Day 3 · At Sea · 9 April 2007

A day at sea sounds restful until someone keeps feeding you.

Then it becomes a test of character.

After our first stop in Fakarava, we had a full day onboard the Aranui 3. I spent time in our small cabin typing stories while waves slapped against the porthole. The engine purred, the ship rocked, and the ocean splashed so steadily that I nearly fell asleep several times.

This would have been peaceful if I had not also been trying to remain productive.

The ocean was winning.

Exercise, Technically

I did a small amount of exercise in the morning.

Very small.

A token gesture.

This would not have mattered except that the Aranui food was incredible and appeared in heroic quantities. Breakfast was buffet-style with fruit, pancakes, bread, and cereal. Lunch and dinner brought appetizers, main courses, and desserts that showed no concern whatsoever for waistlines.

My hope was simple: that I would not have to roll myself off the ship at the end.

The Children Take Over the Aranui

There were nine children onboard.

Five of them were ours.

According to one crew member, we were the largest family they had seen on the vessel. This made us either a charming novelty or a logistical warning sign.

The children loved the onboard activities. The ship even arranged early lunch and dinner for them so they did not have to wait until the adult dinner at 7:30 PM. This was wise. Hungry children at sea are not passengers. They are weather systems.

Since it was Easter Monday, they coloured eggs and judged an adult Easter egg colouring contest. They also played games, swam, watched a video, and generally proved that children can turn any ship into a floating summer camp if given enough juice and supervision.

The Itinerary Is a Suggestion

We attended our first major orientation for the Marquesas portion of the trip. We were told to ignore other itineraries because the actual schedule changed depending on cargo, tides, and the practical reality of running a ship that was not just carrying tourists but keeping remote islands supplied.

That was one of the most interesting parts of the Aranui.

This was not a cruise ship pretending cargo was decorative. The cargo mattered. The schedule depended on it.

In Hiva Oa, for example, we were told the ship had to enter and exit the pass at high tide. At low tide, it would sit only about 80 centimetres above the ocean floor.

That is not much margin.

That is the kind of number that makes a person look out the window and think kind thoughts about the captain.

Ready for the Marquesas

Nearly all excursions were included: hikes, 4×4 trips, traditional meals, and shore visits. Only a few things, like scuba diving, museums, and horseback riding, cost extra.

After a day of eating, resting, organizing, and watching the children enjoy their floating kingdom, we were ready for the Marquesas.

Or at least ready enough.

The ship rocked on. The porthole splashed. The meals kept coming.

And somewhere ahead, remote volcanic islands were waiting.