“On the outward journey the trade winds carry us, we should be there in 24 hours. But on the way back facing the wind it’s a different story” Yves the captain informs us.
Needless to say it is very hot under the tarp but there’s nowhere else to sit. Quickly, everybody takes their places and the dance of vomiting overboard (or in situ) starts. The rough sea, under a cooperating 20 knot-trade, disturbs us all. I quickly try to catch Shade before she…oops too late, she vomits on my shirt just one meter from the side. Obviously I won’t get to change clothes or clean up in the toilet. My bag is buried I don’t know where under the tarp, where the “every man for himself” rule is in effect and seasickness is mandatory. It’s ruined Carine who has stayed hidden during the whole trip. Pierre is used to shooting on race boats so he is fine, Greg our cameraman does not yet seem to realize we’re moving, eye to the viewfinder as he tries to interview anyone who’s not succumbed. As far as I am concerned, Shadé at all of four years old, demands to be in my arms during the whole trip (who’s the boss?)
Flat islands take their time to emerge on the horizon, and my eyes, reddened by last night’s lack of sleep don’t help. When I finally see a verdant strip in the distance, I understand why green is the color of hope.
It takes hours for the coconut forest to become clear. We enter the fluorescent lagoon by the only pass in the atoll. Unloading our bags takes a few hours and we are finally dropped on a little deck covered by a roof made of coconut branches.
Bruno, who heard about our arrival on the coconut wireless, is waiting for us on the deck. His almost 70-year-old frame, muscular and lean as a rake, ripples as he loads our bags onto the island’s only trailer. Bruno, even though the only white man on the island, belongs here, you can tell right away
“Welcome! I don’t get to see visitors every day, especially so young!” he says with a large smile popping out of his huge beard.” And, you’ve brought the sun!” he adds, “El Nino has been affecting us for around a year; we really feel it here, it’s been raining for months. You will see the island is flooded in places, it has become difficult to get around even on foot” he continues while his tractor wheels half sink in the mud. Here, there are no paved roads, no water or electricity, except at Bruno’s.
