The Tahiti Yacht Club Ball
On the road again and the feeling was intoxicating. I rented my small houses in inner Melbourne. I had money in the bank. A fistful of traveler’s checks. My cameras. A documentary film proposal. And a reel of film to show potential backers. I felt ready for another adventure. I was flying away, escaping, rising into the clouds fortunate and relieved to be flying solo. Melbourne’s Tullamarine airport faded into the hazy distance and the blue Pacific Ocean glinted in the harsh Australian light as I headed for America. I wondered when I might return. My plans were open ended, to travel to San Francisco, and then south to Los Angeles, keep traveling into Mexico and South America and then make my way back to New York City. Hopefully have a film project by then, It’s a long flight to America from the other side of the world, almost twenty-four hours and I decided to break the journey in the French protectorate of Tahiti. The French invaded in 1842 and hadn...