Moko

On Tuesday morning, our last in Kauehi, our little gecko snuck along the edge of the wall above our kitchen windows and watched two small flies that were trying to get out through the glass. After a few minutes, he scurried to the edge of the glass and waited. Soon we saw his head dart out toward a fly. Missed! Another jab with the head. Missed again. On the third try, the fly was gone. The second fly was dispatched in the same manner. This is the first daytime hunting expedition we've ever seen. Maybe he's feeling more comfortable. We have decided to rename the gecko. Olga was too Germanic for a tropical creature. Moko is the Puomotu word for gecko, and it rhymes, beside. Moko doesn't seem to mind his new name.

We have the mountains of Tahiti filling up our horizon and should be anchored by late afternoon. It was a short (only two nights) sail from Kauehi to here and the wind and temperatures were pleasant. Once anchored, we hope to clean the boat, check into the country, buy fuel, and get water. I'll pack, take a few hours to see the city, and Brian might check out the nearby surf spot. I fly out on Sunday night and Brian's first installment of surf buddies arrives on Monday.

Our fridge is filled with husked green coconuts, gifts from our friends Marie (not Madi) and Leon on Kauehi. When we left, they put a shell lei around Brian's neck and a necklace with seashell flowers around mine. I feel honored to have been welcomed by such genuinely nice people. The night before we left, they came aboard Nomad with the dozen coconuts they'd picked and husked for us. Marie had gone out swimming that afternoon and collected clams to bring us. They were raw and cleaned in a tupperware. She squeezed lime juice over them all and soon we were snacking.

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