June 2004 2004

Hello everyone,

I had thought first of doing it in the Stade de France, the gigantic stadium built near Paris : on June the fourth, I celebrate my birthday, sixty years and, by the way, my thirty years of sailing, and soon 15 years on board my yellow catamaran Banana Split. I had thought of the Stade de France, as have done a few of our French stars, such as French rocker Johnny Halliday' finally, I have preferred a deserted atoll in the Tuamotu islands of Polynesia : it has more or less the same oval shape, but it's less crowded!

-In May, do what you wish-, a French proverb says. That's exactly what I have tried to do: first, I have continued shooting my next documentary about Polynesia.

We have flown all around Tahiti and the Leeward Islands , including Bora Bora . We have filmed waterfalls, ancient temples of Polynesian religions, dances and celebrations, birds and flowers. We have visited the house of James Norman Hall, co-author of -Mutiny on the Bounty-, the Museum of Black Pearls, the Botanical Garden; we have filmed happy children diving from the top branches of a purao tree into pools of clear water, kite surfers jumping all over the place, hanging from their strange parachute. We have visited hotels on piles and lovely boarding houses in local people's homes, places to dream about. We have eaten lots of Tahitian Poisson cru (marinated fish) and drunk from a few green coconuts... and I shall try to put it all in the next film!

Then I left behind the shooting's madness to return to Banana Split, that had waited for me in Hao, in the Tuamotus; a few days were enough to bury inside the boat all the provisions, food, drinks, spare parts I had sent from Papeete on the local freighter, and Banana Split at last was ready to sail again, to lose itself among the atolls of the Tuamotu archipelago, casting anchor in the lee of islands among which my preferred one hasn't even got a name on the chart. It is still home only to a few Noddi terns, boobies and fairy terns, and its beaches are still bordered with bright green trees bearing small sweet-smelling flowers, called tafano.

It's a whiff of the short lived, yet delicious perfume of these flowers that I would like to send you, if the Internet would allow to zip perfumes and to send them by e-mail. Until that day, I send you my best Trade winds regards