The Preparation. The whole exercise of producing forty-two Vietnamese style spring rolls took Sue and expert friend, Van, almost 4-hours. Time spent shopping for ingredients in the morning was not included in that total, nor were the inordinate delays for giggling time. There were no recipe books in sight. Van grew up with much experience at home in Vietnam working what we view as exotic culinary magic, she takes this in her stride. Sue's cries of how do you know when it is right were met with “It looks right, smells right or tastes right” nothing is documented, but Sue has cheated by taking photos and notes.

The Cooking. Chopsticks appear to be the only utensil required apart from a grater and very sharp knife during preparation. Once the rolls were made, four egg yolks binding the ingredients, tightly enclosed within rice/tapioca wrappers, it was time to heat a pan of oil to gently simmer for a long, long time.

The Testing, oops, Tasting. Van's partner, Tim tore himself away from boat tasks aboard s/y Burasari to partake in a meal for four. Grated salad with spicy home made dressing, rice cooked Vietnamese style, of course, and the piece de resistance, the Spring Rolls. Superb! Delicious! Sue wants to make them again without the benefit of the master-chef in attendance...but she has warned Andy... he won't be getting this treat too often at four-hours to put a meal on the table.

Baie d'Anaho entices a long northerly ocean swell into her embrace. Waves funnel inwards, ricocheting between rocky faces to the left and right. Reflections combine to produce a confused motion deep into the bay. A widening zone opens out to provide a reasonably protected anchorage for around fifteen boats. The more comfortable region is pronounced, fifty metres too far out and the swell is perfectly pitched to induce an oscillation in many shapes of cruising boat's hulls. The photo shows a cluster of anchored craft to left of centre. A few boats can anchor on the opposite side of the bay, but if the wind comes more northerly even that can make for an unpleasant roll.
Over the craggy mountain pass lies the village of Hatieu. A zig-zag trail saunters through trees and scrub that is closely grazed by herds of shaggy coated goats. Each group led by an impressive male sporting large curved horns. Prospective usurpers roam cautiously on the periphery, sizing up their nemesis for the challenge that must one day come. Lizards dart before our boots as we scale to the 160-metre high pass. Not terribly high, but seemingly so upon the return hike when laden with shopping.
From atop the hills views are spectacular. This photo looks north-east towards Mexico, 3000-miles over the horizon. Trade winds lift moist air over the relief, droplets condense, clouds form and occasionally a brief deluge of rain hammers down. The air clean and cooler a resurgent tropical sun rapidly heats and evaporates the atmosphere into a cloying clammy humidity, until the trade winds resume after the squall and deliver a most welcome cooling flow of air.

A local farm sends produce to Hatieu three times per week. No road, no vehicular transport. Wooden saddles on horseback offer a place to secure sacks of goods. From Hatieu they are whisked across island to the market in the main town of Taiohae, where we shall head to soon.

In the small village at Baie d'Anaho a beautiful airy church sits beside the strand. Frangipani blooms exude their heady fragrance. The mountainous backdrop provides an awe inspiring setting to a scene that must have remained somewhat similar for a century or longer.