Slipping n’ Sliding the Paradise Night away

November 4, 2022

Ali Fox, C-Watch, Adult
Morgan Hayman, A-Watch, Adult
Stella Streufert, C-Watch, Claremont McKenna College Super Senior

4 November

Ship's Log

Noon Position
16°43.8’S x 151°26.5’W

Ship Heading & Speed

Weather / Wind / Sail Plan
Rain! Pouring rain!

Description of location
In Papeete, Tahiti!

Souls on Board

All blogs from S-305

The morning began at Paradise Night.

Our legs were feeling fresh. New. Not new like fresh out of the packaging. New like new baby horse legs. What we’re trying to say is that our legs were used to walking 100 ft in one direction, so we were due for a break after 7 blocks.

Looking back, it’s hard to say for sure what actually drew us into “Paradise Night” that Wednesday at 1300. But somewhere deep down, we must have known. This was exactly where we were supposed to be.

We sat on land for the first time in 37 days, people-watching the Moorea ferry come and go and the chickens cross the road, a Hinano in one hand and a lychee juice carton in the other, listening to the croons of Céline Dion, and taking in the ‘50s themed mural walls of Charlie Chaplin and a slightly off looking Marilyn Monroe. The vibes were right.

Our laughter bounced off these walls, as we reminisced about the seemingly far away but actually just hours previous memories of the gybes we made, the griddle we cleaned, and zoops we scooped.

Magic happened in that room that day. Laughter and beer refilled our souls. We were rejuvenated. And we all knew we would do the whole trip over again in a heartbeat.

Poetry interlude (thanks to E. Rogers for the inspiration)


Land still here 

It’s still, here  


A couple hours later, we found ourselves with the rest of the ships company.

Picture this.

A crowd mulls around three superb food trucks (Captain Kevo convinced approx 33% of us to order the steak frites; Ali says they did not disappoint) near the water.

Background: a line of palm trees and then the dock and boat… (not ours)

This boat docked was chalk full of (also bald) (bald sees bald) macho men deadlifting weights for over 45 minutes to house music (think Love tonight by Shouse) next to all the fancy water toys on their yacht, for their even bigger, other yacht.

All of a sudden, it starts to downpour. Our crepes and steak frites are getting wet. We have to make a split second decision, to run from the rain or to face it, like the sailors we were born to be.

A month crossing the whole freakin’ Pacific Ocean flashed across our minds. We were changed beings. We were shellbacks. A whole new world of possibilities had opened up to us.

One brave soul from our numbers (to remain unnamed) took the flightless leap.

And just like that, we were all flying.

Sailing across the ocean before, but we were now sailing across the pavement. It’s like our shoes lost all their tread, three bounds down the tile plaza, a surfers pose, and we could slide for miles. This was it; the moment our bald heads and minds had dreamt of.

With our little hairs (progress update 3/8 cms growth) aching for flight (see blog post from October 23rd), our hearts full of love for the sea and each other, and our tummies full of crepes and steak frites, we took to the rain with what we’ve been taught on the Robert C. Seamans all along: With love, gratitude, and boldness. And with STOKE for life. Caw caw.

Ali Fox, C-Watch, Adult  

Morgan Hayman, A-Watch, Adult 

Stella Streufert, C-Watch, Claremont McKenna College Super Senior  

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