Disaster number two came on Easter Monday. Wanting to spend the afternoon away from writing (I was having a major crisis of confidence at the time, we can call that disaster number three) we decided a little quality time was in order, and took the boat out to explore our wider surroundings and indulge in a little snorkelling. I won’t wax lyrically about the scenery here, since no matter how much I try I will never be able to convey how stunningly gorgeous it really is. Pristine beaches, verdant islands, sparklingly clear turquoise seas… and a very unexpected coral shelf into which our propeller happily crunched. Luckily we weren’t travelling at speed at the time, as we were caught up in, well, waxing lyrically.
So now we were drifting, sans power, though as luck would have it in the direction of our own island. That was the good news. The bad news was that no way in a million years were we going to make our own beach. In fact, we were heading straight for a vertical rock face. It was time to drop anchor and call the local version of International Rescue, led by Sione, Reef Resort's man-of-all-trades, and seen standing. Unfortunately for us, they were all over in Neiafu visiting fellow church members in hospital when we phoned, but after much misunderstanding with the language, come they did and what you can’t see in the image are the ladies and younger children sitting in the cabin in full Sunday best.
Okay, now on to disaster number four. Having removed the damaged prop, Jas was on the way into town the next day to get it repaired when he had a puncture. Not really surprising, given the state of the roads in parts, but worse was to come when he discovered the spare was equally as flat. Thankfully no one was around to hear the language.
And finally we come to disaster number five. A writing error which meant hours and hours of reworking entire chapters of Ruby and Lilith, for while I’d allowed for some six weeks to send a letter from England to New Zealand – remember it is 1928 – I hadn’t allowed the same time for a reply. The result? All the action went out of sync. My mood wasn’t help by the suggestion of a certain person that perhaps the returning correspondence could have been sent by email. No? What about a text then?
This week will be so much better!