I had letters to deliver in Raiatea, and officials to
see, and there was Charmian down below getting ready to go ashore.
By insistent signs I indicated that I desired no more than a short
sail on the lagoon. Quick was the disappointment in his face, yet
smiling was the acquiescence.
"Come on for a sail," I called below to Charmian. "But put on your
swimming suit. It's going to be wet."
It wasn't real. It was a dream. That canoe slid over the water
like a streak of silver. I climbed out on the outrigger and
supplied the weight to hold her down, while Tehei (pronounced
Tayhayee) supplied the nerve. He, too, in the puffs, climbed part
way out on the outrigger, at the same time steering with both hands
on a large paddle and holding the mainsheet with his foot.
"Ready about!" he called.
I carefully shifted my weight inboard in order to maintain the
equilibrium as the sail emptied.
"Hard a-lee!" he called, shooting her into the wind.
I slid out on the opposite side over the water on a spar lashed
across the canoe, and we were full and away on the other tack.
"All right," said Tehei.
Those three phrases, "Ready about," "Hard a-lee," and "All right,"
comprised Tehei's English vocabulary and led me to suspect that at
some time he had been one of a Kanaka crew under an American
captain.
