I have yet to see Fiji. I am in quarantine on Juniper until later today. How do I feel? Peaceful, pleasant, perfect. Like I could exist here forever. Alone. On this water without the touch of land. Like being able to sit in the cockpit and stare at the unicorn clouds and constellations with the sound of goats in the background, is enough.
It’s a very strange thing to admit, but I don’t mind this feeling. This freedom. This knowing that I am enough as I am, wherever I am, however I am, because I am. I feel at ease, whole, settled. My skin is a home that I no longer ache to shed. Distraction an escape, I no longer desire.
As you know well, I was lonesome before, often, too often. Like a lone flamingo in a pit of pythons, but the spell of the sea shook that shadow from me.
Then again, it’s hard for me to ascertain if I changed out there dwarfed among the waves. If nature allowed me to connect further to myself, and everything else. Or if it’s just this change in scenery that leaves the impression of some internal change.
I don’t feel jittery on the water in Fiji, like I did in French Polynesia. I could feel the history of French Polynesia like a pang. I think everywhere on earth has a history of heartbreak, but the waters of French Polynesia must be truly sad-eyed; with the diseases and guns and alcohol brought by early explorers and merchants, the loss of lives in the French-Tahitian War, the fallen gods resulting from missionaries “saving souls” and sinking Tikis, the Tahitian queen- nicknamed “eye-eater”- made powerless by the French administration, the German bombardment during WWI, and the radioactive fallout resulting from the 210 nuclear weapons detonated in the Tuamotus.
I like the vibration here in Fiji much more. Is it me or is it this place? Perhaps both?
Some boat neighbors have come to welcome me. The men working on the barge next to me, nicknamed me Olie and always invite me over for kava, though I never accept. The Navy and nurses visit often, they bring me fruits and vegetable and once a pizza.
I’ll have you know that I devoured that medium-sized pizza, as if it was mother’s milk, with no ounce of guilt! And I eat so much fruit a day that I will be astonished if green sprouts don’t shoot out of my ears and eyes. My body was so depleted after the voyage, it’s as if can’t get get enough nourishment and sleep now.
I kept a secret from you while I was at sea. I don’t know why. Perhaps I didn’t want to be judged, but I don’t care anymore how I am perceived. Judge me. Judge all of me. I work to sail and I can’t sail if I don’t work and furthermore I like my work. I’m a story teller. I direct documentaries and online series, and produce TV shows.
It’s part of my life’s balance. It’s part of my mission on earth.
Just before departing Bora Bora, I was offered a job directing a short online series. I’m freelance, so when the fruits are offered, I accept, regardless of where I am on the water. I asked the client if they could give me 14 days to sail my boat to Fiji. They agreed.
When I realized that I was going to miss my intended arrival, which is a total oxymoron when it comes to sailing, I asked work if they would allow me to conduct my pre-interviews through satellite email, instead of face to face online interviews. It took several days for them to accept. They agreed to this arrangement on the morning of the lightening storms. So in the midst of sailing through the squalls against a reversal of the trade winds, I wrote interview questions and fired them off to the interviewees.
So there’s my secret. I began working from sea.
During my time in quarantine, I have written three scripts based on those pre-interviews. These scripts will shape the documentary story that I bring to the screen and they will guide my on-camera interviews.
It’s Monday here. I will got to land soon, to clear into Fiji. As soon as I am officially here, I will work on the engine with a proper mechanic. I had a dream that it was the impeller. In the dream I could see that one side of the rubber star, the upper right side, was broken. I’ll tell you if that dream is true. How magic, would it be if every dream I dreamt from now on revealed a waking truth! Or have my dreams always done so, and it’s just that I was never really awake before?