7. A Snake Slithers Aboard

November, 1999

Kate stomped back to the stern, fuming. The nerve of that man! Hopefully she could simply avoid him for the rest of the journey.

She went up to her tiny cabin first and retrieved the one book she had brought with her. It was tattered, spine long broken. It was her absolute favorite; reading the familiar pages was like chatting with a good friend. It never failed to comfort her, and comfort was what she was looking for at the moment. The cabin was quite warm, and made her stomach clench just a bit. Most of her sea sickness had disappeared with the magical leaves that Hina had given her, but she didn't want to push it.

She went back down the stairs to the saloon. When she had seen it with Hina earlier, it had been empty. Now there were two crewmen and the cook, Tane, sitting at a table playing a dice game of sorts.

They all looked up when she entered and greeted her. One of the crewmen stood, introducing himself.

"Maeva, welcome. I am Arenui. This is Tamahere and Tane. Welcome to the Iriata. Please let us know if there is anything you need."

Kate was charmed by the greeting. She remembered Hina had told her that Arenui had been with the Iriata the longest, and that Tamahere was related to Anapa and Hina.

"Thank you so much. I was just planning to do some reading."

"Then I hope we do not disturb you. Tane has placed some water and Rotui fruit juices on the counter if you desire refreshments."

Kate looked around the saloon. Like the boat and its owners, it showed its age. Yet, it was also very comfortable looking. The main entry faced the back of the boat. There were two tables set up on one side; one sat six people, the other four. The latter was currently occupied by the men playing their game. The tables themselves were battered, and the chairs were fixed in place, presumably due to their presence on a ship.

Another door in the wall opposite to the entrance led to the galley kitchen that Tane was responsible for. There was a counter on half the wall here that was used as a sideboard. This was where the drinks were set out.

The rest of the room had various armchairs, and even a couple of recliners grouped in a rough circle. There was seating for six; not quite enough for everyone on the ship, but she supposed there was always at least one person on duty. A third door in the side wall led to the crew's room. There were bunks for them all and a small toilet room; Hina had showed her the accommodations briefly on their tour earlier.

She chose to skip the drinks for now; not yet certain her stomach was settled. She picked a comfortable looking armchair and relaxed as she read, tuning out the chatter of the men as they teased and harassed each other over their game.

Forty minutes later, a shadow fell over her. Looking up she saw that Tamahere was standing awkwardly in front of her.

"I'm sorry, Miss Kate, to interrupt. We are approaching Mo'orea and I thought you might like to see it."

"Oh, yes. Thank you. Where should I go?"

"Either up to the bridge or to the bow. It is a beautiful island with much to see."

Kate would have preferred to be in the open air, but the bow was where she had left the insufferable Rick Rodgers. She was torn.

"Wouldn't I be in the way if I were in the bow?"

"Not at all. I will be up there as we approach Vai'are. I will let you know if you need to move."

She decided that if Tamahere was in the bow as well, there was little chance that Mr. Rodgers would bother to speak to her. Mind made up, she ran up to her small cabin to return her book before picking her way to the bow. No one else was on the deck with her, she noted with a sigh of relief. She leaned on the rail, drinking in the emerald isle in front of her.

Tamahere was right; Mo'orea was magnificent. It was surrounded by a reef system and had rocky spires reaching out of the sea. As she gazed at the beautiful island, she felt rather than heard him approach her. Without even looking she knew who it was. She tensed, ready for battle once again.

"The tallest peak is called Mount Tohi'e'a, near the center. You can see it from Tahiti," he said. His voice was neutral; a tour guide relaying information, nothing more.

"It's too bad you won't see either of the two main bays. Opunohu Bay and Cook's Bay are both on the northern side. If you look at a map or a picture from overhead, Mo'orea looks a bit like a heart, with the bays as its openings. But we are going to Vai'are, which is on the eastern side of the island."

She did find the information interesting. His motivation in telling her was the mystery here.

"James Michener said Mo'orea was 'a monument to the prodigal beauty of nature', and based the mythical Bali Ha'i on it. And none other than Arthur Frommer said it was the most beautiful island in the world," he trailed off. Tour guide time had come to an end apparently.

She turned halfway, stiff and unwelcoming.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I just thought you might like to know. And to prove I do have some manners." He smiled in a disarming way, and she had a sudden flash of understanding about what he was trying to do.

"Look, just to be clear, I'm here for the experience of the islands. I have no interest in you. I'm not looking for an island fling."

"I'm… flattered? However, I'm not trying to get in your pants, as pleasant as that might be. I'm here to work. And part of that job on this trip is to be nice to the passengers. Of which you are one. This is me being nice to you. So, I'll leave you on that note."

She turned, relief washing through her that he'd been the friendlier version of Rick Rodgers and that he was now leaving. Relief that was momentary when his low voice rumbled through the air once again.

"One more piece of advice."

She jerked back around.

"What?" she snapped.

He smirked, knowing he had gotten to her. "Watch the reef area closely; there's usually a ton of dolphins swimming around them."

He turned and sauntered off; once more she was left standing with her mouth open. Had she actually just misjudged him again? He was so maddening. One minute employing inappropriate double entendres then the next minute he was actually being nice. Shaking her head clear of him, she turned back to the wonderful view. When she saw the reef encircling the island she found herself following his advice. Damned if she didn't see a pod of dolphins, just as he'd predicted.

She remained in the bow after they docked in Vai'are, watching as the men swung into action to load the last of the cargo. It was an interesting process; they used the crane to swing the pallets from the dock to the open hold, then the men in the hold (Rodgers and Tamahere) secured it down. She couldn't tell what was in the pallets, but had been told their new passenger was starting a new farm of sorts.

It took about thirty minutes for everything to be moved and stowed away. The men climbed out of the hold, both quite a bit dustier than when they had gone in. The first mate, Ari'i, then gave them some more directions, which she couldn't hear. They both disappeared down the gangway while Ari'i went back up to the bridge.

They returned a few minutes later, both laden with several heavy looking trunks, and followed by a very good looking man who appeared to be in his thirties. He was small to average height, with dirty blond hair that was carefully coiffed. He was dressed casually in khakis and a white polo shirt. He was barking out directions to the men, so Kate knew he must be the man they had been waiting to join them, Henri Grollet.

She watched as the three men disappeared to the back of the boat; two struggling under the burden of the luggage, while their new passenger continued to harangue them as they went. Once they disappeared, her attention was drawn back to the village of Vai'are. She watched as the high speed catamaran that whisked passengers back and forth from Papeete came flying in. It docked, disgorging the happy tourists that were taking advantage of the close proximity of Mo'orea to Tahiti.

About ten minutes later she heard some shouting from the stern. It was Ari'i. He was directing the other crewmen as they prepared to cast off. Tamahere climbed up to the bow and gave her a nod as he went about his business. They were underway within minutes, headed back into the open ocean.

"What did you think of Mo'orea, Miss Kate?"

"It looked beautiful. I wish I could have spent some time there, but I know we were in a hurry to get going."

"Yes, Monsieur Grollet, our new passenger, seems to be in a rush over everything."

Tamahere was looking down at the main deck as he spoke. She followed his eyes and saw that their new passenger was now being led from cargo hatch to cargo hatch. At each one, Arenui and Rick would open the hatch that covered the hold so that Mr. Grollet could see inside. Each one seemed to have some fault, as he would gesticulate wildly and emphatically until Rick disappeared down the ladder. She couldn't see what he did, but it would apparently appease their passenger; that is until they reached the next hold.

Tamahere gave a snort. "I should go help. But I'm not sure I want to be around this guy much. Too bad Arenui and Hopo got stuck showing him the cargo holds."

The men below them had now reached the cargo hold with the chickens. If M. Grollet had been upset by the previous cargo hatches, he was apoplectic over the chickens. Tamahere and Kate watched as Rick disappeared into the hold while Arenui and the Frenchman argued. Well, it appeared that Arenui listened, while the other man berated him.

"Poor Hopo. I'm really glad I'm out of harm's way up here with you."

"What do you think he's mad about? How many possible ways can you stack chickens in a hold?"

"Who knows? All I know is the smell in that cramped hold is indescribable. Hopo is going to be in a really bad mood. Can't blame him."

Curious about the American, and knowing she couldn't ask the man in question, she turned to Tamahere.

"Hina said that Anapa gave Mr. Rodgers a Polynesian name. Hopo? Does it have any particular meaning?"

Tamahere looked at her questioningly. "All ma'ohi, or Polynesian names, have significance. My name, Tamahere, means 'the loved child'. Anapa means 'the sea sparkling under the sun', and Hina means 'the great-granddaughter'."

"And Hopo?"

He gave a bit of a wicked grin before answering her. "Hopo means 'great white albatross.'"

Kate stared at him for a second before they both burst into laughter. Unfortunately, their mirth drew the attention of Arenui, who shouted at Tamahere to come help them.

"I must bid you nana, or goodbye, Miss Kate. Arenui, 'the big wave', bids me to join them. Please be careful up here alone."

Kate wandered up to the second level of the superstructure about an hour later and saw Hina's workshop door was open. She approached and found Hina busy preparing a mixture of dried plants.

"Hina, may I be of help?"

"E, yes, of course. Sit, please." After Kate had taken a seat next to her, she continued. "This is a nono, which we use both for drinks and for medicines."

Kate watched and listened closely to Hina as she showed her how to prepare different plants for various conditions. Hina explained that Polynesian myths told of how plants, fruits and vegetables came from human bodies.

"For example, the 'uru,' or breadfruit. Its trunk came from the body of a man, branches and roots from his limbs, leaves from his hands, fruit from his head and the almond from his tongue. Due to the particular link with humans, the plants kept the shape of the organ from which they came from. Thus, each part of the plant is best used to cure the area of the body it came from." Hina pointed to some illustrations of a breadfruit tree in a book of the flora of Polynesia as she discussed the parts of the plant with Kate, then continued.

"Moreover, a disease is considered to be an alien fluid which introduces itself in the body of a person that broke a tapu, or a forbidden practice. This negative fluid is the source of an imbalance that the tahu'a, or priest, will have to cure. Once a cure is accomplished, both the mind and body are considered to be free of disease," she related. Kate was fascinated. It was a practice so rooted in the culture, and unlike anything she'd been exposed to in New York.

Kate spent the rest of the afternoon with Hina, soaking in as much as she could. It was a fascinating discussion, to be sure. As the light abruptly faded from the small window, Hina set her tools down.

"Ah, sunset in the South Pacific. It is quick here, due to the short distance to the equator. The sun's rays are more perpendicular, so dark falls quickly."

"When will we reach our next port?" Kate was fuzzy on the details from when Anapa had explained things earlier.

"We will go to Tupua'i next. It is the most populated of the Austral islands and the administrative seat. Then we will go to Raivavae. That is the destination of Monsieur Grollet, who you will meet at dinner. We will be in Tupua'i in about three days, if the weather holds."

"Why are we going to Tupua'i first?"

"I have some business there and Anapa is nervous that the cyclone building to the east may affect us. If it gets worse he will want to go around it and we may not get a chance to go back to Tupua'i anytime soon."

"And Raivavae is quite beautiful?"

"It is one of the most beautiful and wildest islands in French Polynesia. I cannot wait for you to see it. Now, let us put down our work for the night. Dinner will be served in about a half hour or so in the saloon. It will not be anything formal of course, but there is time if you wish to freshen up. Mauruuru tiare."

"Mauruuru?"

"It means thank you."

"And tiare?"

"Flower."

Smiling, Kate offered her thanks and then headed to her cabin for her bag before going to wash up in the washroom on this level. While she had conflicting feelings about the other American on the ship, she was finding the Polynesian crew to be absolutely delightful.

Rick was grumbling, but was careful to keep it to himself. He had been polite, though displeased, when he was perfunctorily ordered to carry the extremely heavy trunks of their new passenger up to his cabin. Rick had no idea what the man could have possibly packed to make them so heavy.

Then, just as he'd been ready to escape for a while and write (being off duty now that the ship was underway), he'd been caught again. Arenui had grabbed him so as not to be left alone with their odious guest. Not that he blamed Arenui; he probably would have done the same in his place. Still, it was annoying.

The man had wanted to check every cargo hold. Never mind that his precious cargo was mostly barrels of who knew what and tools; items that were nearly impossible to damage. Every hold they opened the man saw a problem. So much so, that Rick began to have serious heartburn as they approached the chicken hold.

Sure enough, as they pulled back the netting, the man had gone apeshit. His rapid fire French was too fast for Rick to understand most of it, so he had been relegated to descending into the hold while Arenui tried to calm the guy down.

There was absolutely nothing wrong with how they had secured the chickens. They had hauled livestock before; this was not his first chicken rodeo. Yet M. Grollet didn't want them stacked the way they had them. This meant Rick had to unhook each cage and reposition it. If they had been heavier crates, it would have been impossible to do while underway; too dangerous with the ship moving. Alas, it was possible to do, and so he did it. Luckily, he had only moved about five of the forty when he saw Tamahere climbing down to help.

"Just in time," Rick smirked at him.

"Yeah, well I was perfectly happy watching you do all the work from the bow. Until Arenui caught me laughing at you," retorted Tamahere.

"Serves you right. Now you and I have the pleasure of doing Monsieur Grollet's bidding."

"What is his problem? I saw he made you do something to every cargo hold."

"Want my opinion?" Rick asked as he grabbed another cage, "He's an asshole. And since he's an asshole, he can't help but spread his shit everywhere he goes."

That got Tamahere laughing so hard that he had trouble standing. Which earned them a rebuke from the men above, who thankfully couldn't hear their conversation over the loud squawking of the very unhappy chickens.

Two hours and forty angry chickens later, they were done. He was filthy once more. Angry chickens have diabolical means of getting even with people who are trying to reposition their cages.

He went up to the common room to wash and change. His shift would start in another few hours, right after dinner. He just wanted a nap at this point, so after he cleaned up he climbed into his bunk and was sound asleep within moments.

He woke up fifteen minutes before dinner time. He was starving, as lunch had been a hurried affair due to their arrival at Mo'orea. He hoped Tane really knew what he was doing in the kitchen.

After washing his face, he exited the bunkroom into the saloon. When he saw that he was one of the last to arrive, he wasn't surprised. However, seeing that M. Grollet had already claimed a seat, and that it was right next to Kate brought up an unexpected surge of annoyance. Stopping to examine it, he was sure it was due to the great chicken escapade from earlier. Certainly it had nothing to do with Kate herself. She had made it perfectly clear earlier that she wanted nothing to do with him. And since he'd sworn off women and their complications, that was just fine with him.

He took an open seat near Tamahere and Arenui at the smaller table. Ari'i was still on duty, waiting to be replaced by Rick. Anapa and Hina were sitting at the larger table with Kate and M. Grollet.

Tane had carried out some of the dishes already, and Rick had to admit they smelled wonderful. He poured himself a glass of juice and one of water; he'd found he had to drink a lot more than he was used to now that he spent so much time in the sun and performing physical labor.

He nearly dropped a glass when the sniveling voice of his chicken nemesis, M. Grollet, slithered through the saloon. "Monsieur Rodgers, Capitane Anapa tells me you are américain, just like the lovely Katherine here. Is this true?"

"I've never known Anapa to lie," was Rick's terse answer. He had told only Anapa and Hina the full reasons why he was in Tahiti; the other crewmen had no idea who he really was. He had absolutely no desire to share his story with this obnoxious man.

"Ah, that seems highly unusual, does it not? You have been working on this ship for 10 months, no?"

Rick nodded again. Fortunately, Tane came out with the rest of the meal and M. Grollet was prevented from asking more probing questions while everyone filled their plates. There was a variety of fresh fruits, as usual, and papaya chicken. For dessert Tane had prepared a faraoa coco, or coconut bread.

As Rick neared the end of his meal, he couldn't help but notice how much attention M. Grollet was paying to Kate. She seemed to be somewhat receptive, in the sense she hadn't slapped him so far; clearly M. Grollet was more tolerable company to her than Rick.

Ari'i called down via the intercom to ask Anapa to come to the bridge. He was worried about some weather reports. Hina went with him, and a brief silence descended on the saloon. Rick was about to grab some more faraoa for later, when he heard his name being called again.

"Monsieur Rodgers, you say you have been working here for ten months. Where in America are you from?"

Rick felt he had to answer. He didn't want to seem rude, though these questions were out of line, in his opinion.

"New York."

"Ah, the city or the state? You see my dear, I have some knowledge of America as well." Grollet addressed the last of his statement at Kate, who just nodded noncommittally.

"The city."

"And were you a crewman on a boat in New York?"

"No."

"And what is it that you did?"

"I was…self-employed." That was true, more or less.

"You must not have been very successful, if you ended up on the other side of the world on an old cargo ship." Grollet tittered, clearly amused by his own wit.

Rick was annoyed, and a bit angry, at the impertinence of the man. However, he had no desire to set him straight. It would just cause more problems in the end.

"I guess not. If you'll excuse me?"

He grabbed his bread and climbed up to the bridge. His shift wasn't due to start for another half hour, but he highly preferred the company on the bridge to that in the saloon.

Kate watched Rick leave. She felt a bit guilty, though she hadn't been the one asking the questions. Her seat next to M. Grollet made her feel complicit in the thinly veiled verbal attacks. Which was ridiculous; she didn't even like the American sailor.

"He seems to have a thin skin. Makes me wonder why he is hiding in the South Pacific, eh?"

"Monsieur Grollet, need I remind you that I am also from New York and currently here in the South Pacific? I am not hiding from anything. Why do you think he must be?"

"Ah, my darling Katherine, please call me Henri. We have only just met, but I feel that I have known you for some time. And I certainly want us to know each other far better. As for M. Rodgers, well, it is an entirely different scenario, no? You are here for vacation and will unfortunately soon return. Yet, he has been here nearly a year and is working as the least senior crewman on a cargo ship. I wonder if he is running from the law? Or from an unsavory relationship?"

"I think, whatever it is, it's none of my business and none of yours either. If he wanted us to know, he would have told us. Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to lie down for a while."

As she walked away, she missed entirely the speculative gleam in Henri's eyes. He hated mysteries, and the American sailor presented him with the only mystery he was likely to find on this voyage. He would figure him out sooner rather than later.

Thoughts are greatly appreciated. Thank you to all reviewers.