Forgotten Were The Letters To
Raiatea, The Officials We Had To Visit.
Shoes, a shirt, a pair of
trousers, cigarettes matches, and a book to read were hastily
crammed into a biscuit tin and wrapped in a rubber blanket, and we
were over the side and into the canoe.
"When shall we look for you?" Warren called, as the wind filled the
sail and sent Tehei and me scurrying out on the outrigger.
"I don't know," I answered. "When we get back, as near as I can
figure it."
And away we went. The wind had increased, and with slacked sheets
we ran off before it. The freeboard of the canoe was no more than
two and a half inches, and the little waves continually lapped over
the side. This required bailing. Now bailing is one of the
principal functions of the vahine. Vahine is the Tahitian for
woman, and Charmian being the only vahine aboard, the bailing fell
appropriately to her. Tehei and I could not very well do it, the
both of us being perched part way out on the outrigger and busied
with keeping the canoe bottom-side down. So Charmian bailed, with a
wooden scoop of primitive design, and so well did she do it that
there were occasions when she could rest off almost half the time.
Raiatea and Tahaa are unique in that they lie inside the same
encircling reef. Both are volcanic islands, ragged of sky-line,
with heaven-aspiring peaks and minarets.
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