Undaunted by the dour forecast, we set off on Wednesday afternoon determined to sail for the promised land that is Tahiti. The first challenge standing in our way was the treacherous pass into the atoll that had intimidated more prudent boats, who chose to wait in Rangiroa for a more pleasant weather outlook. However, before we could even tackle the difficult pass, the engine began to badly overheat. Stalling the boat by pointing into the wind, I hopped over the side and attempted to clear the raw water intake that helps to cool the engine. Whether this had any effect is debatable, but at least it made me feel like I was doing something to address the problem. Placing as little load as possible on the engine, we motor-sailed through the pass with impressive waves breaking off to each side of the pass. Once safely clear of the danger, we entered the tumultuous sea and set off for Tahiti. The wind the first night hovered around 20 knots and the violent rocking of the boat gave Eric and Nick a harsh initiation into the wonderful world of blue water sailing. On Thursday morning, the wind built to 25-30 knots and the seas were 25 feet if they were a foot. Battling the elements using a double-reefed mainsail and the staysail, we averaged about 7 knots as we rocketed toward the land of milk and honey. Unfortunately for the captive crew of Audentes, neither milk nor honey sounded very appealing at the time since the entire crew suffered from a nasty bout of seasickness. There are few worse feelings than being seasick and trapped on a boat that continually jolts from side to side while being constantly battered by waves. The cockpit was frequently doused with buckets of seawater and an uncomfortable amount of seawater found its way into the cabin through a variety of leaks in the boat. For an entire day, the attack from the sea was unrelenting. Anna describe the trip as “awful … no fish, no ships.” Eric mentioned that he didn’t think he could handle more than a couple of days of those conditions. Nick was asleep and unavailable for comment. Fortunately, on Friday morning, the wind and waves eased up a bit and the majestic mountains of Tahiti came into view. The relieved crew gratefully anticipated landfall: good food, a stable bed, comely natives, and, most of all, solid ground. Entering the land where the mutiny on the Bounty occurred, it is easy to see why sailors would want to stay in Tahiti instead of enduring the discomforts of life at sea. Luckily, my crew did not quite reach the point of mutiny and, as we approached the pass into Papeete, we dropped the sails and kicked on the engine. Once again, the engine began to overheat and we were forced to kill the engine while attempting to sail our way through the narrow lagoon to the anchorage, nearly four miles away. Progress was painfully slow, but we managed to stay off the nearby barrier reef. While slowly tacking our way up the channel, I had time to go below and tinker with the engine. Eventually, we drifted precariously close to the reef and were forced to turn the engine on again. Thankfully, under a light load, the temperature stayed low and we safely proceeded to the anchorage. Sailing has often been compared to tearing up money while taking a cold shower and this passage did little to disprove this assessment. As usual, the passage resulted in a long list of casualties. As I slowly work my way westward, the number of functioning items on the boat continues to decrease. At this pace, I should be living like a Luddite by the time I reach Fiji. During this short trip, a number of leaks became evident, the wind instrument went haywire, the running lights quit, and the staysail sheet became badly chafed. In addition, prior to leaving Rangiroa, the outboard that I purchased less than nine months ago stopped functioning. As a result, we are now forced to row the unwieldy dinghy roughly ¾ of a mile to shore. My particular dinghy was not designed to be rowed and the poor schmuck that is rowing must kneel on the bow of the dinghy while looking like George Washington crossing the Delaware. The situation is not helped by the fact that the combined weight of the crew currently exceeds 600 pounds. This heft helps with providing manpower for propelling the low-riding dinghy, but our plodding progress through the anchorage tends to draw curious, sympathetic glances from nearby boats. Despite our pathetic appearance, the cheese-eating surrender monkeys in powerboats usually fly by, kicking up large waves that further impede our progress. However, occasionally a kind soul will offer help and it is at times like these that I choose to appreciate the long history of camaraderie between the U.S. and France that existed from the Revolutionary War and carried on through WWII. Lafayette would roll over in his grave if he could see our poor, overloaded dinghy nearly swamped by the inconsiderate frogs. Our anchorage outside of the Marina Tiana is crowded with over a hundred yachts. Facing the island, the forests of masts guard the foothills of Tahiti that lead up to the steep slopes and dramatic valleys higher up. Houses dot the hillside and the island appears to closely resemble Martinique, a French island located in the Eastern Caribbean. Looking away from the shore, waves crash over the surrounding reef and the lovely island of Mo’orea is visible in the distance. It seems that it is fashionable to complain that Tahiti is too crowded, too touristy, and too expensive, but after a couple of months of self-imposed isolation from civilization, I must admit that I like it here. In the Bible, Moses reminds the Jews that in Israel God provided manna, which the refugees from Egypt had never heard of, in order to prove that one does not live on bread alone (Deuteronomy 8:3). In Tahiti, my steady diet of baguettes is supplemented by the delicious pamplemousse that has surpassed cranberries as my favorite fruit. Within a short walk of the marina is a large, modern grocery store packed with everything that someone living in the 21st century would expect a real supermarket to stock. Downtown Papeete may not be the most charming village this side of Ra’iatea, but it offers plenty of options for unfettered material consumption, a variety of prurient enjoyment, and essential human interaction. Furthermore, the island of Tahiti is brimming with breezy cafes showing the World Cup matches live on plasma TV screens. No longer do I need to apologetically cower in the corner of an uppity resort to get my fill of the beautiful game. Instead, I can join the hordes of passionate Europeans hurling obscenities in a variety of languages at the benignly indifferent television. On Saturday morning, I utilized my entire repertoire of profanity as I watched the US-Italy game that quickly deteriorated into a mugging. Either the referee had a rooting interest in the game, the Italian mafia used their considerable persuasive influence, or it was out-and-out the worst officiated game that I have ever witnessed. In any case, the US was denied a well-earned victory and had to settle for a bittersweet tie. The upcoming week promises to be busy and I can only hope that it is a productive one. There is a long list of boat projects that need to be completed before I can continue my journey and Tahiti seems to be the best place until New Zealand to take care of some the more difficult projects. In between working on projects, we hope to enjoy some of the many attractions that the island has to offer. Surfing, hiking to waterfalls, and exploring Papeete are all on the agenda and should provide a much-needed respite from the frustration of boatwork.