Maiden Voyage by Tania Aebi

Author:Tania Aebi
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ballantine Books

8

Officials almost always became a little embarrassed to find themselves alone with me on Varuna, and those from Vanuatu customs and immigrations were no exception. I had called the authorities on the VHF and a white launch with black capital letters forming the word POLICE on the side headed out toward us shortly thereafter.

Two ebony-black men in white uniforms and glossy patent leather shoes jumped off their tender and aboard Varuna and, realizing I was alone, timidly snuck a peep down into the cabin where Dinghy and Mimine were licking themselves. I smiled and talked with them, recounting my near sinking disaster while filling out all the entry forms for a new port of call. Still not completely sure that I was really by myself, they got back on their tender, shaking their heads, and pushed off.

“Oh, welcome to Vanuatu,” they called, speeding away. “Enjoy your stay.”

I waved back and looked toward the area where they had directed Varuna to anchor. Farther up around the bend of the bay, sailboats swung around their anchor chains and, closer, several more were tied up to the seawall. Turning on the engine, we slowly motored past a shallow reef toward the other boats and, just past the cleared channel, turned on the depthsounder to help find a place to anchor.

The sounder kept pinging 90–100 feet as Varuna circled the other boats. “This must be wrong,” I said to myself and decided to let the hook go anyway in a clear spot. “All these boats can’t be anchored in such deep water. What kind of anchorage would this be?” Putting the engine in neutral, I ran up to the foredeck to pay out Varuna’s entire 100 feet of chain, letting it slide through my hands on its descent. At the end of the chain was another 20 feet of rode and I stopped the flow at that point, waiting for the anchor to catch the bottom.

The noise of the engine was muted on Varuna’s bow, and the late-afternoon silence was broken by the first sounds of stirring night insects. This place was so quiet. Soft voices wafted over the calm waters and a group of people were sitting on the deck of their boat, watching Varuna and smiling. The anchor chain was perpendicular to the water, hanging straight down as we drifted back. It hadn’t even touched the ground.

As I heaved it back in, my muscles easily handled the dead weight. It was effortless to do anything physical after being at sea and, wondering if people on the other boat thought I was strong, I went back to the tiller and continued my search for a shallower spot. Farther along, several boats were tied to moorings just off a small island in the harbor and I thought I recognized one of them from Tahiti. Just then somebody got into the dinghy attached to its stern and motored my way. It was Christoph, a roving singlehanded and swinging bachelor I remembered from Papeete. It was great to see a familiar face.

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