Kijana (14 page)

Beau and Josh were clearly struggling for energy. Josh found it difficult to even pick up the camera. They both needed food and decided they had to break our promise and eat some damper. It was no good living off the land if the land could not provide for them.

We watched Gayili intently as she made damper, flattening it like a pizza and covering it in the hot sand by the fire to bake. Josh decided he'd give it a go, so Gayili showed him how. Josh proudly offered Banduwa the first taste of his damper.

‘Taste like lady,' he said slowly, as if he was unsure of the wording.

‘Ahhh ... lady-
damper
!' he said again, this time more confidently.

We burst into laughter. Even Gayili was able to raise a giggle.

‘I'll take that as a compliment,' declared Josh as he shared it around. I desperately wanted some but I couldn't. We had one day to go, so I picked up the drag net and mustered some support to help me go netting.

That afternoon saw us back at camp with a catch of fish in readiness for the feast.

The meal was to be cooked in an underground oven, so a pit was dug in the sand and lined with rocks. A fire was started in the pit, which eventually died, leaving bright red coals and hot stones. Meanwhile, what had once been Uncle's frozen fish, were now thoroughly thawed and combined with our recent catch of mullet and chunks of potato and pumpkin. The coals were covered with green leaves that would not burn with the heat. The food was placed on top of the leaves, then more leaves, a length of stiff bark, and finally a heap of sand was pushed on top to form our underground oven.

David and Ian lit another fire on the beach and sat with Ricky, who cradled the yakala that Banduwa had made. Ricky, we discovered, was reputedly the best yakala player there was. Earlier in the day he'd taken the yakala and cut 25 centimetres off it. He blew a few tunes and seemed satisfied. Now it sounded right! And Banduwa didn't seem to mind.

Mika helped Banduwa paint the children's faces before it was time to begin. After Ricky had warmed up, half a dozen sets of clap sticks began their beat, through which Ricky wove the deep drone of the yakala.

The boys and younger girls then began to dance. It was a magical time, helped along by the bright pink sun setting behind the dancers. Cedric led the dancers. He had transformed from the larrikin of the first day to a serious performer. His rigid knees and stern face reflected the seriousness of the spirit world he was imitating. Sand flicked from his feet as the performance climaxed. Cedric's body relaxed as he looked to Gayili for approval. It seemed Cedric the boy was dancing like a man.

Our time with Gayili and her family was drawing to a close. The thought of it made me sad. We'd made some good friends during the week. We'd told stories from our different worlds and shared common jokes.

But it was not only the end of our time with the Yolngu people that made me feel so melancholy. Our time with Gayili had cemented the end of the
Kijana
crew as it currently stood. I recalled an Aboriginal custom where it was necessary to leave the elderly or sick behind, when the tribe had to move on to fresher hunting grounds. I felt almost the same.
Kijana
would be leaving the safe waters of Australia and entering the Spice Islands of Indonesia. The girls were holding us back and they had to be left behind.

My decision was made – the girls had to go. The incidents of falling asleep on watch and going back to the boat for food provided enough hard evidence to convince the office it wasn't working. I would call them as soon as we got back to town.

The dance finished and the underground oven was opened. Steam rose from the pit and carried with it a smell that made the mouth water. Everyone scrambled around the feast and selected pieces of fish and vegetables to put on their bark plate. I reached for a piece of fish and put it in my mouth. It was superb. I went to get more but stopped when I saw the colour of the fish I'd just tasted. It was red, not the grey of the mullet we'd caught. I was eating one of the frozen reef fish brought over by Uncle. All that discipline and I'd stumbled at the final hurdle. It didn't matter any more, I didn't have anything to prove to anyone. I hesitated for a couple of seconds then skewered the biggest supermarket potato I could see.

That night I slept well for the first time in a week. We'd been living on the beach for six days and it was only now that we were faced with the prospect of leaving that it felt like our home.

We left the following morning, and sailed everyone back to Nhulunbuy, where we thanked our friends and said our goodbyes. Then I headed to town to make the call to the office to tell them of my decision.

I hesitantly dialled the office number and my voice was soon being broadcast on the speakerphone to those in the office. I told them how the bond among the guys was getting stronger, but the relationship between the guys and the girls was getting worse. I could not keep going this way, I told them, for I was at my wits' end.

They simply told me to hold on.

‘Don't say anything just yet' until there is a clear plan, they said. A plan for
what
? I suppose they needed time to let it sink in. Meanwhile, I had to keep my mouth shut and not mention my conversation to the others, least of all the girls.

Back at the boat, as we prepared to leave Nhulunbuy the following morning, Mika asked if she could talk to me – alone. She asked me straight out whether I wanted her on the boat. I answered truthfully – no. She didn't respond, instead heading up on deck to sit on her own in the dark. Fifteen minutes later she came into the cabin and announced to everyone that she would be leaving the boat in Darwin. So much for the office's plan! The following morning we weighed anchor and began the five-day leg to Darwin.

It was the most miserable leg of the entire trip. The weather was overcast and no one spoke. Beau, Josh and I spent most days on deck huddled behind the steering wheel, while Mika and Nicolette rarely came out of their cabin. There was no ‘dinner' together, as previously.

Nicolette didn't say much at all. I wondered what she was thinking. Josh made an effort to make things less miserable, spending time sitting with Nicolette and joking with her as best he could.

The fourth of July came and nearly went. Late in the evening I remembered the significance of the date. Not because it was American Independence Day, which may have been significant to Nicolette, but because it was Josh's birthday. I double-checked with him if it was the right date, then wished him a happy twenty-second birthday. He glumly told me it was the worst birthday of his life.

As we sailed past Melville Island, a few hours out from Darwin, I checked the emails, hoping for some word from the office. Suddenly, Nicolette swept into the cabin and demanded to know if I wanted her to stay on the boat. I couldn't lie to her, so I said no. She said she would leave with Mika once we arrived in Darwin.

A heavy mood hung over the boat as we entered Darwin's Fanny Bay. Mika and Nicolette had gathered their stuff and were ready to leave. We entered Cullen Bay Marina and tied up to a floating pontoon. Mika and Nicolette loaded their possessions into the dinghy and Josh took them ashore. There was no farewell between Beau, myself and the girls, just relief that they were off and that maybe we would be free to find and film paradise.

Forget the plan, my email to the office said, both the girls were already off. The office immediately organised their flights back to Melbourne and Flip, the publicist, was called back from holidays that day to work out a strategy to let the public know. The aim, of course, was to keep it as low-key as possible.

The interest in what had happened was high. All the daily newspapers across Australia covered the story, and I did quite a few radio interviews. I was honest in what I told them. Things hadn't worked out with the girls, so they had decided to leave. I didn't reveal how they'd driven me crazy and that I'd discovered that I certainly wasn't the best captain to have ever sailed the seven seas when it came to people management.

The one question most people wanted to know was who would replace Mika and Nicolette? The guys knew we could sail the boat on our own, as that's what we had virtually done since day one. So we didn't necessarily need people with sailing experience. In fact, we didn't really want to take a ‘sailor' with us. We liked our routine and most sailors we'd met were the cliquey type who used sailing terms way too often for our liking. The three of us were relaxed and we wanted people who could fit into that groove. Attitude was the most important attribute. But how could we judge that until we were out sailing with them? It was a case of once bitten, twice shy.

I wanted Maya to come on board but I hadn't mentioned that to the others. How could I, especially with the problems we'd had with Mika and Nicolette. It would look like I wanted them off so Maya could come on board. That wasn't the case and I certainly didn't want anyone thinking it was. Josh asked me about her joining and I said, yes, of course I wanted her to join. As far as Beau and Josh were concerned, she had as good a chance as anyone of fitting into our groove.

Sure, she didn't fit any of the roles we had designed in the Kijana mission statement, such as extreme sports coordinator, mechanic, etc. But we'd discovered they were just words anyway. An adventurous attitude was more important than any specialist skills.

So, we had one girl and needed someone else. Or did we? We thought about it and came up with an idea. Why not leave the fifth position open for people we met along the way to come with us for short stints. After a couple of months if things weren't working out we could say their time was up. If we got on well, we could ask them to stay for the rest of the trip. It was a great idea.

We stood at three consecutive payphones in Darwin, each dialling the number for the conference call with the office to discuss our plans. We stood and listened as the job description for new crew members was read out to us. We were told we needed someone who could write the web updates, be a mechanic, sailor, researcher, female and preferably someone who wasn't Australian.

We were digesting the impossibilities of finding such people in Darwin, when they delivered a bombshell. The deal with the American book publisher, worth $100,000, had fallen through. The fact that we no longer had an American on board was being blamed. It was a huge blow. We'd been counting on that money to pay for virtually everything. We basically now had nothing in the bank. It meant the documentary series had to be sold immediately to cover food, fuel and the wages of the office staff.

As we digested this news, Josh suggested Maya as a crew replacement. I looked over at him as he listed the reasons. We didn't need a sailor, we needed someone we could get along with. He explained that he and I could write the web updates and we had plenty of time while sailing to read about the interesting places to visit, so we didn't need a researcher. Beau was doing great with the cooking and together we were a strong team.

But the office were firm. No way, we were told. Imagine what people would think. As soon as Mika and Nicolette get booted off then Jesse's girlfriend comes on board. We had to think about our image for the sake of our sponsors.

But they offered one small concession. If we kept going, filmed more and got the documentary series sold to secure our finances, then maybe Maya could be considered. I was not surprised by what they said, and I had no choice but to accept it.

We had two weeks in which to find a crew member who could quickly join us, so most likely they would already be travelling. The fifth position could be left open for someone we met while in Indonesia, our next destination.

Losing the publishing deal was a big blow, but at least we heard some good news during the call. We'd received more than two million hits on the web page – people logging on to see the video clips and read the updates. A lot of those, we were told, were from school children. It was the first feedback we'd had about how the updates were going. It was just the tonic we needed as we set about finding a new crew member and getting the Kijana adventure back on track.

I had to call Maya and tell her she would not be joining us. It was difficult, because I couldn't even tell her who was. It was a bit like saying anyone was better than her. ‘Someone with a foreign accent,' I said in passing as I tried to play it down.

I wondered what Josh and Beau thought about our conversation with the office. Most times I spoke to the office on my own and filtered what I was told to the crew. I was, after all, a part-owner of the business, captain of the ship and director of the filming, so I had to keep some stuff to myself. But after the conference call with the office I wondered what Beau and Josh were thinking about the workings of the trip. The trip was never designed to be so political, but they were now very much caught up in it. I wasn't surprised when a few days later it came out.

Kijana
had been hauled out of the water in Darwin to repair the damage to the keel. Beau and I were under the keel ripping off a plank with screwdrivers, while Josh climbed about the place trying to find the best angle to shoot some footage of us at work. Like so many times before, Josh asked Beau to hide his cigarette. Beau reluctantly butted it out, then took out his frustration on the keel.

‘It doesn't look natural,' Josh said referring to the angry scowl on Beau's face.

‘Well, what do you want me to do?' Beau asked. I could see he was getting pretty steamed up.

‘Just do what you were doing before, as if I wasn't here.'

‘This is what I mean,' Beau said, in a huff. ‘This is what I hate about the trip. We're meant to be making honest docos out here, but it's not honest. It's not real. When Jesse first told me about this trip what I loved about it was that we were real people going on a real adventure without make-up or any of that stuff. But this is fake. We're meant to be inspiring young people by being ourselves but I have to hide a stupid cigarette. It's bullshit.' He settled down a bit and started working again.