9Emily sees Jack off at the airport and returns to the boat. We are leaving the same day with a few hours to wash clothes, buy food, buy wire for new tent pegs, check emails, refuel and re-water. I dally over my emails.
‘Come on, we still have to put the water in the tanks.’ Emily prods.
She folds her things away neatly in our tidy boat. Dad motors us out past the old fishing boats, away from the cacophonous wharf. I pull up the main with delight, and follow its flapping all the way up the mast. Two weeks at anchor was quite long enough for the headsail; it leaps out jubilantly to catch the wind. Dad turns Dream-maker away from the wind until the breeze is straight across the beam, then I take the helm while he sets the wind vane.
‘Now I’ll show you both something of Fiji. You’ll see ho
