Page 33 - Exile-ebook

32 AN EXILE OF THE MIND MELTING TONES OF THE PACIFIC 33

The stunning island of Moorea in French Polynesia. Dutch-flavoured Curaçao was our the stunning island of Moorea.
first port of call, ratty and unkempt A long whistle blast from the
shoulder, thinly disguised in a leath- decks deep within the ship’s bowels. under the Caribbean sun. At the Rangitane below was a reminder
er scabbard. I was about to embark The voyage to Godzone took five open market I focused through the for those ashore to hurry back to the
on a venture of endless mysteries. weeks across the mercurial oceans lens of my camera to see a chopper- ship before she sailed.
My parents, dazed by the speed of of the Atlantic and Pacific. wielding woman lunging towards Long black hair whipped my face
events, realized that they may never In the dining room a long table me. Not having the presence of as we dashed down the hill and I
see their eldest again. Two weeks groaned under an orgy of food. In its mind to take the photograph I held tightly the slender waist of
earlier, I casually told them I was centre a dolphin leapt out of a large turned and ran, not sure of her a Tahitian goddess on a
off to the Land of the Long White ice block and melted to the size of intentions. speeding motor scooter.
Cloud. My mother asked which pub a mackerel by second sitting. On an We were able to step Passengers cheered and
was that then? earlier voyage I would have sailed in on land again in Tahiti. An wolf-whistled from the
This was the era of ocean liners steerage on a simpler menu of salted island with a French ship’s decks above. And
and long passages plying the seas meat and ship’s biscuits. flavour, where I doggedly with a cheery wave and a
between England and countries The airless cabin was shared with set off to walk up a steep flash of teeth, my friend’s
Down Under. Romance, perilous three other young men already plot- hill in the midday swelter. lovely daughter scooted back
adventure and intrigue lurked in ting mischief to relieve their boredom Out of the blue a large beaming home. From their hilltop home her
every exotic foreign port. Cheaper on the long journey. Piercing shrieks Tahitian materialized with a cold family could be seen waving madly as
cabins were designed to maximize were heard early one morning. The beer. Rivulets of condensation the ship headed out to sea.
passenger numbers rather than ‘Ladies’ and ‘Men’s’ toilet signs had sparkled on the bottle as I gulped There were many girls riding
comfort. There were no portholes to been switched during the night and it down and a marvellous day was scooters in Papeete. This was the
view bumpy waves at sea level from the toilets suddenly became unisex. spent on his veranda overlooking South Seas I had dreamt about. And