Conni arrives tomorrow. Hurray!

I took Darden to the yacht club dock this morning and he took a taxi to the ferry. The airport, constructed during WW2, is on a "motu", as I've mentioned. The price of a ticket necessarily includes the price of a ferry ride to the airport or to shore. Poor guy, he was almost late: the driver saw money in the street and waited on traffic to clear to grab it. Phil said that Darden was getting frantic and arrived about 2 minutes early. Yikes!

When I asked Darden if he'd had a good time, he responded cryptically, "it was the trip of a lifetime." Well, so would have a few days with CIA interrogators, but I hope that he meant it in a positive sense. Darden? Some of the magic of living on a heeling boat going to windward for days on end has passed for me, so I hope that it was, at least, instructive.

Phil leaves Friday and Lovely Conni arrives tomorrow at some time. To provide Darden with some more Bora Bora time and to miss some messy weather, we opted to stay here until crew changes were completed, but that meant that everyone had the Bora Bora to Papeete flights to arrange. Necessary but somewhat costly in time and money.

For the last two days, I've been fighting with our water maker and after some lengthy email help from the designer, Rich of CruiseRO Watermakers, we got it sorted out and were making our usual 20+ gallons/hour of fresh water from saltwater. It's a trick worthy of a wizard, I think. Remember the old mariner's line, "water, water everywhere but not a drop to drink!" Well, not any more. Darden, Phil got it wrong and we had at least 30 gallons in the port tank. Jeez, that thirsty day-and-a-half was unnecessary.

As I sit here at the club and look out at the mooring field, I see a few anchor lights in the distance, and nearer, the patrons' tables aglow with the interesting egg-shaped table lights. Shadowed forms huddle around the lights, exchanging quiet words, mostly in French. The tables are over the water, so the effect is quite magical. Tiny fish are brought to the surface by the lights and treats, and they draw the attention of any youngsters in the company. Attention is followed by bits of baguette, of course, explaining the willingness of the fish to be here. Where's Pavlov?

After dinner, I'll motor back to the boat, doubtlessly impressing the diners, and enjoy a quiet night dreaming of my sweetie joining me tomorrow. I can't tell you how much I've missed her, her talents in navigation, sailing, logistics, and all the rest. Weather will keep us here for a few days, but that's a good thing sense she'll need some time to accommodate to the boat life again. She's had to prepare herself, buy and pack items that we need, work almost full the, and get our lives ready to be gone for the next month. I think that I owe her a beer, or glass of wine, anyway.