After 5 long squall-ridden days at sea, we make our final approach to Penrhyn at first light of day on Wednesday, May 15. Because the land is so flat, we cannot catch even a glimpse of the island on the horizon until we are one hour away. It is the largest atoll of the Cook Islands, measuring over 7 miles across the center lagoon, but has a very small, narrow and low-lying land mass (less than 200 yds wide from inner lagoon side to open sea) which forms the outer ring. The inner lagoon varies from 20 to 260 ft deep, however is riddled with hazardous small coral head �"islands,�" which are tricky to navigate, hence the importance of entering the lagoon in broad daylight. It takes us over an hour to negotiate the small opening passage through the outer wall of the atoll and dodge the coral heads before we reach our anchor site near the village of Omoka. We anchor in 30 feet of crystal -clear azure water, only to be immediately encircled by black tipped reef sharks, checking out these new intruders to their quiet home. I guess we will wait for our first dip in the otherwise very inviting water. There is not another yacht in sight, apart from a few aluminum local fishing boats, pulled up on the beach, so I guess we are the only visitors. At first glance there are no signs of life on shore in any direction, but after some minutes, we hear the buzz of motor bikes. Soon we are visited on the boat by the local policeman, doing double duty as the customs officer. Paperwork, passports, fees and more fees, then the quarantine nurse, and more fees, then we are officially able to go on land. Ian, knowing that there are no �'official�' fuel outlets on Penrhyn noticed earlier a govt diesel lift tractor on the wharf, so after arranging with the double duty policeman to deliver some of the donated clothes etc. from Alaska and perhaps his 10 year old son may like a new boogie board asked how could we obtain some diesel, �"No problem�" said the policeman I will speak to the Govt admin, so pay them a visit tomorrow. Anxious to go ashore and stretch their land legs, Shy and Mimi are ferried to shore by dingy, having reconsidered their first impulse to swim across in the shark-infested waters. Ian and I opt for relaxing in the shade of the boat deck in the sweltering 90 + degree tropical sunshine. We relax, then grill dinner for our first relaxing meal in days. Many hours later, darkness falls and still no sign of Shy and Mimi. There are no stores, bars, restaurants or internet to distract them, besides, what is the worst thing that could happen on an island of ~100 people? No cannibalism reported for many years, so we figure they can manage, and we know they will not try to swim back to the boat in the dark. Eventually they return bearing bags of coconuts and big grins on their faces , with tales of a very warm welcome by the locals at the community center, complete with an amazing feast and fabulous harmonies from the church choir- they are quite mesmerized by the extraordinary friendliness of the local inhabitants, a theme which will be repeated many times over the next few days.