The big Three-Oh, Being Homeless and Ill and Sonadora

Helen: Haven't written for a while as we've spent most of the last couple of weeks being homeless and arguing with C. It's not much fun being a sailor with no boat and having to try to make your worldly possessions fit into bags which are blatently too small every couple of days and then go begging to the next set of friends to see if you can stay on their floor/sofa/deck for a couple more days. C really doesn't like being dependent on people, and Tahiti is such an expensive place to find accommodation that we couldn't afford to not stay with our friends. So. Not fun.

But now we have a new home. :). You'll laugh when I tell you it's on a yacht (Sonadora - dreamer in Spanish) that we met across the Pacific and that C and I swore we'd never crew on as we thought the owner was v strange! But, we were desperate so we came to say hello...and it turns out we were wrong. The skipper is, as we thought, a little dotty, but she's lovely. This is her second time round the world on this boat (big roomy catermaran) - first time was with her husband, but he's unfortunately dead now so she needs crew. It is a bit like sailing with your grandma (she insists we make our beds in the morning and set places for breakfast, and the kitchen smells like my great aunt's flat in Hove) but she really looks after us and, most importantly, she's really sociable. So unlike Stuart. We've had folk over for dinner a few times already, she says we can invite our friends round for drinks and she's always at Happy Hour. And, best news of all, our rudderless hippie Swedish friend from Panama/Galapagos (Anton) has joined us as crew. With his guitar and harmonica. So we've been keeping the neighbours awake singing English folk songs all night. Should be fun all the way to NZ.

Two other things to tell you about - I'm now officially OLD. Turned 30 over a week ago. Actually, it was a lovely day - in the midst of our homelessness nightmare we got rescued by friends on a v luxurious 63ft ketch and taken to Moorea - next island along - less stress, less traffic and people. Turns out one of the owners is (we think) English aristocrat with cordon bleu training. She was wonderful, showed me how to make salads I actually like (yup, that's SALADS I LIKE you didn't misread - she has such a well stocked larder - artichokes, capers, crab, balsamic vinegar, Fortnum's tea...) and she baked me a cake for my birthday (didn't even get a card from C :( ). Her partner is a v laid back American with a Southern drawl. Also lovely. We got totally spoiled for 3 days. Won't forget my 30th for a long time!

And then we had to re-enter the real world...and we got sick! First time since leaving the UK for me, and C has only had a cold in that time (also since we've been on Tahiti - must be all the germs from all the PEOPLE!). Carole (new skipper) had asked us what our health is like - we told her in good faith that we're generally pretty healthy...and then first night on board we were both throwing up and running to the loo all night! She's a nurse though so looked after us with tea and boiled sweets til we were better.

Right, that'll do for now - better go and help with boat chores - the boys are down in the engine room getting grubby changing filters - poor Anton - not something you want to be doing with a hangover. I get to check the stores and make a shopping list - pink for girls and blue for boys. Going out to see the opening of the Heiva this evening - the Polynesian cultural festival - C says it'll be rubbish and why does he have to go and see a load of dancing anyway - I told him not going would be like being in Edinburgh during the festival and not going to see a show. So I won and we're going. (Think this decision will come back to haunt me though and be used as justification for him buying a(n expensive and unnesseccary) diving knife that I think is a waste of time).

Looking forward to it as our friends Rahula are in town and Marco (from the Canaries) might pop by too...

Hxx

PS met some truly awful Brits the last couple of nights - ex pilots who are now ex pats in Malaysia/Indonesia. All they wanted to do the whole time was tell stories about how many women they'd slept with whilst getting very undignifiedly drunk.