1st Mar

Moved to another island overnight.

Quite a few people felt seedy last night, so I was not alone.

It turned out that they took their sweet time to get there, so we were literally crawling along. Must be something to do with the departure and arrival slots.

Somebody suggested that if we had powered along at a decent clip, there would have been less rocking. Who knows?

Once we woke up, all was well.

We had met a couple two nights ago at dinner, John and Lynn. They had been doing snorkelling, jet skiing and all sorts of athletic excursions. I have taken to calling him G.I. Joe.

Anyway, I decided to be a bit G.I. Joe myself today. I am going jet skiing.

We meet in the theatre, with a bunch of people doing other excursions, and head down to level 3 to hop onto the tender.

Did I mention that these tenders are the lifeboats from onboard. There seem to be a range of different types, depending on need. There were the landing craft from the first island, and these are the more traditional enclosed numbers with windows and a roof. You can even go upstairs onto the roof to sit if you want some more baking.

Off we go for the 3 minute ride to the dock. There are a few stalls set up to sell you pearl jewellery and clothes. Sarah might enjoy this. Something else I didn't mention. Sarah is not with me today. There was no way to convince her to sit on the back of one of these things. G.I. Joe will say she has over-thought this. Again.

Anyway, no time to loiter. Got to hop onto another boat. This one has whale and dolphin watch on the side. Are you sure this is the right boat? Yes, let's go.

So we are off, putt-putting our way past the ship, around the headland. We soon get to another inlet, where we will be moored tomorrow. There is one of the Love Boats parked here. The Ocean Princess. Past that we go. I can see some more of those Bures on sticks, heading out towards the reef. There are navigation markers keeping us well away from them. Must be a posh hotel, wanting to keep the noisy peasants away from the pampered elite.

While I am sitting in this boat, I let my arm hang over the side. Don’t worry, no “Jaws” moment here! The spray is coming up the sides, and occasionally onto me. Then I notice something odd. You know how when you wade into a pool or the sea, it takes a moment to acclimatise? Not the “Brass Monkey” mid-winter kind of acclimatising you find in Southland. Just that whole Canterbury “Ooh, it’s not too bad. It’s ok now. It’s quite nice really” kind of acclimatising. Not here. This actually feels like a warm bath! I know! I will never get used to the sea being hot. Just like that whole ice-cream at midnight in KUL thing. “Does not compute, Will Robinson!”

So we get past the hotel, and back to hug the shore. Soon we are pulling into another hotel, this time not so delicate. There are jet skis lined up, along with some other craft.

2 surfboards lashed together, side by side. Then 2 beach chairs on top, with a canopy overhead. Then an outboard motor plugged on the back. They look like something Tim the Toolman would make, except his outboard would be massive.

Half the group that came on our boat are getting onto these golf-buggies with water wings. Now it's our turn to saddle up.

There seems to be a woman in charge of this wee business, and she is asking us if we can drive. Well, yeah. Oh, you mean THESE things? No, not really. Too late, I have been drafted into the 'advanced' group. Oh, crap!

Actually, I have ridden one of these before. At Akaroa, in a previous life.

Just like a horse, getting on without looking like a plank is harder than it looks.

So I make it in one piece, and end up facing the right way. Bonus.

There is a strap to put around the wrist, the other end connected to a dead man switch. Fall off, and the engine cuts out. Hit the go button, and twist the grip to rev a little. Nothing. It doesn't twist. I'm sure the last one I rode was just like motorbike controls. Not this one. The only other choice is the handbrake lever. Yep, that's the throttle. Ok. Ready to set off.

We start slowly, following our guide, getting the hang of the controls. I'm 3rd of 4 jet skis following him. They call them wave runners here. I'm still figuring out the combination of steer and lean to get the turns right. We start getting faster, and I'm keeping up. The guy behind me, not so much. Never mind, it's not a race. Just as I think I'm getting the hang of it, I hit a series of waves thrown up by someone ahead, and scare the bejesus out of myself. Bang, bang, bang.

Oy vey!

Because I don't swim, I am nervous about turning too sharply and capsizing it. As you may know, there are 2 types of jet ski. The stand up model that bounces around and folds like a clam when you fall off. And you will fall off. That's why I will only ever try the other type. The more sedate, big-arsed sit-down model that can take a passenger. That's what I'm on. All the other punters came in pairs, so 2 to a bike. I'm here alone, as previously discussed.

These are really fun. And kinda scary. I want one of these things when I grow up!

So off we go, zigging, zagging, chasing the guy in front. I don't know how far around the island we went. Maybe half way. Eventually we stop and regroup, and start back. Our guide decides that our advanced group can go on the OTHER side of the reef. Say what?

Suck it up, people. Let's play!

Through a gap in the reef, and suddenly we are in open sea. Cool. Waves are bigger. Bang! Keep in line, keep up. A few spots of rain, then suddenly we are going full noise, open sea, rain storm. Why can't somebody invent sunnies with wipers? At least I'm wearing my sunnies. Not getting rain in my eyes. Still hard to see where I'm going, though.

As quickly as the rain started, it was over. I'm soaked, but I'll be dry in a couple of minutes. We soon pull into a motu for refreshments. The learners class and the golf cart squadron have beaten us to it. A snack of sliced pineapple, juice, and a pitstop. Where we parked our bikes, a stingray comes up to us. Then another, and then a third. People are petting them, the guides are feeding them. Cool.

On our way back, our guide asks us to stop, and gather around. There are some sharks wandering around, and we just float there and watch them for a couple of minutes as they swim under and around us, engines off. No danger, just respecting another critter in the water. Then it’s back to the mainland, and we are done. I have a new respect for the gunfighters of the old west. Boy, my trigger finger is tired!

Actually, I'm quite buggered. Trying not to kill myself was exhausting!

As we were heading to dinner, we met John and Lynn, as well as the two couples from the first night dinner, who were here on a tour organized by Brown University. Sarah refers to them as The Academics.