Page 2 of The Sailor in Polynesia
I should be happy, right?I thought. I was in a beautiful place, doing exactly what I wanted to be doing. It was just me and my sailboat,Welina, setting off to explore the world.
My phone pinged again.
It’s okay if you aren’t happy. You can sellWelinaand come home.
Don’t say things like that! You’ll hurt her feelings!
Hers or yours?
Ouch.
Tough love, Miamati.
Miamati was the nickname Dad had given me because I was a high-energy tomboy, always running around like a Maserati. James slipped into using my nickname when he worried too much about me.
I’m fine, I swear. It’s an adjustment period. Don’t you have work to be doing?
Right, I’M the family slacker. ;)
That’s me, professional bum.
You’re only a professional if you are earning money. When are you going to post another video?
Geez, this is why I never message you! All it is is work work work.
It comes from a place of love. And don’t think I missed you avoiding my questions. But you are saved by the bell—I have to run to a meeting. I’ll give the ’rents a hug from you. Love you!
Love you too, Sir James.
Just to spite my brother, I stripped off my clothes and leaped into the water next to my boat.I’ll show you fun.
* * *
It wasn’t that I didn’t have things to do. There wasalwayswork to be done on a boat: small repairs that needed to be made and regular maintenance to keep her in good condition.
There was also a big decision that I was putting off: money.
My divorce had left me with meager savings,Welina, and the only remaining revenue stream in my failed marriage: a moderately successful sailing vlog.
Liam had easily turned the vlog over to me. He had hated it toward the end, but I thought he would fight for it, just to be contentious.
Welina, I had to fight for, which made my blood pressure rise just thinking about it. I was the sailor, not Liam. This whole trip had been my idea. I doubted he would ever set foot on a sailboat again.
The solution to my money woes should have been easy: publish a new video. It was not so simple.
Last week I’d motored over to the closest village, ten miles across the lagoon as the crow flies. Man could not live on bread alone, but a diet of nothing but coconuts wasn’t going to work either, and the little village was my best choice.
Watching myself on camera used to be so much easier. I pulled up a clip I’d filmed during the trip and hit play.
My long red hair was up in a ponytail, and the wind caused it to whip around behind me like a whirlwind. I stood at the helm, the island a narrow strip of land behind me.
“I’ve just left Tiera... Teava...”
On-camera me took a deep breath and started again.
“I’ve just left Tearavero, the village on the atoll of Kauehi. You can see it behind me.”I held up a finger and pointed over my shoulder.“I’ve gotten some provisions, but there’s not much. I was able to trade for some fish, which was nice. Since it’s just me”—my voice wobbled here—“and there are tons of sharks in the Tuamotus, spearfishing is definitely not a good idea, so I, ah, need to rely on trading with fishermen or canned food for protein.”
I hit the pause button and closed my eyes. It didn’t feel like me anymore. I looked uncomfortable, and it wasn’t just the missing dynamic of a second person. The feeling weighed on me all the time, this lingering idea that Liam had ingrained in me that I wasn’t good enough.
