One Week in Polynesia

 I woke this morning and realized not only are we in French Polynesia but we’ve been here for a week. Actually, it was the moment after I walked out into the cockpit, admired the mist on the mountains, and then picked a banana from a bunch we have hanging outside that I realized we are really here.

It’s a realization that hits regularly. We had a bunch of the boats over for Cinco de Mayo (on, err, May 5) and just about everyone made the comment, “We are in the Marquesas!” And then when we go for our daily walks or hikes (Barb and I have walked in the am when there is no big hike planned) at some point someone will do something remarkable—like notice an avocado tree, or discover a tiki hidden in the jungle—that we’ll become aware of where we are all over again.

This sense of happy discovery is a good thing—because we’re not yet any closer to owning a rudder. We got one (utterly outrageous) quote from a French Polynesian shipyard (our first true case of sticker shock…) so we’re casting the rudder net a bit wider.

 As far as sticker shock goes, while it is expensive here, we felt well prepared (the files section at the Pacific Puddle Jump group had excellent cost comparison spreadsheets) and we stocked up ahead of time on the costly stuff and are only replenishing with the affordable options (dairy, lamb, baguettes, some tinned goods). We’re finding fruit ranges from free to medium expensive and the fresh veggies that we do find (mainly tomatoes, green beans, lettuce, cucumber, onions and potatoes) are about double what we paid in Mexico.