Once we went on a trip from
Avarua harbour to Ngatangia
harbour. We anchored in the
lea of Motu Namu.
At night we slept on the boat
and during the day we swam
and explored the motu.
It was the best holiday
we had.
dugout canoe was kept at Muri, turned
upside down on the grass above high
water mark and it had to be carried
down to the water’s edge every time
we raced. Our Dad taught us to be
competitive, rig our canoe, step the mast
and be responsible for our equipment.
Details were checked, like the bailer tied
with a reef knot onto the canoe, all the
halliards tight, the pullies running freely,
the outrigger secured, the battens in the
sail, the spinnaker and pole stowed in
the hull, and the tiller in place.
On calm days we would sail the lightest
crew. On windy days all four girls sailed.
Before we climbed into the canoe Dad
drew a map in the sand to set our course.
He made us turn our heads so we could
feel the wind on our faces. We would
look out at the lagoon and watch the
way the wind was blowing. If it was
blustery the wind rippled the surface.
We watched the pennants on the marker
buoys and talked about the tide.
Once the race started Dad always
walked along the beach and kept us
in his sight. On wild days when the
wind was blowing south-easterly and
we had to tack to Titikaveka on a low
tide, a decision had to be made to reef
the sails or take a risk to sail on with
a full set. Dad would let us choose
unless he thought it was dangerous,
then he would suggest that we reef the
sails. This was very exciting at times.
It meant we needed the whole crew.
Linda, who was five, would have added
little to the weight but was valuable
as bailer, because she could stay in the
canoe while the rest of us climbed out
as far as possible on the outrigger. Our
skipper, Marie, kept us as close to the
wind as possible as we flew across the
lagoon with the outrigger out of the
water. On the windward tack when the
outrigger was on the downwind side we
stacked out to keep the outrigger from
ploughing into the tide.
We didn’t have much weight so the
skipper had to keep a keen eye on the
wind to hold a steady course.
A huge hazard on the Titikaveka leg
was the Doctors’ reef. It ran across the
lagoon from the outer reef almost to the
beach, with one break about half way
along its length that we had to find and
sail through. Our canoe had a fixed keel
and so drew about two and a half feet.
The look out in the front of the canoe
stood up and held onto the halyard to
get a better look at the coral heads and
estimate whether the keel would clear
the coral. If it was not possible to sail
over it the skipper had to be told. Flying
towards a coral head or trying to get
through the Doctor’s reef was always a
challenge because we only had seconds
to make decisions and a bad decision
could lose speed, or we could get stuck
on a coral head and have to jump out
of the canoe onto the coral head and lift
the canoe free.
I do remember being scared one time
when the tide was particularly high
and we were all concentrating because
visibility was bad, when we realised
that we were almost in the breakers, so
we had to forgo speed and tactic and
concentrate on safety. We did win races.
As each child left to go for her New
Zealand adventure the next person
stepped up to skipper the boat, until the
boys eventually continued the tradition
on their own. They sailed sunbursts with
retractable centre boards making coral
heads much less of a hazard.
They were fun days!
The illustration in this story is
indicative of those on Joan’s Playing
Cards of the Cook Islands. Packs of
those cards are available from selected
retailers. See Joan’s advertisement on
page 13.
Joan’s art can also be viewed at
The Furniture Centre.
Escape Magazine • 13