A big black headline hung in the air.
GERMAN TOURIST MISSING IN NUKU HIVA
It's gotta be a mistake. I hope it has nothing to do with Baju. Please let it have nothing to do with our friends.
This can't be blood the water here is far too blue.
Stef's picture was on the front page of the paper the next day. I've been holding my breath for a week. Sending out unheard messages of hope & companionship in desperate times. And condolences.
They found his remains the following weekend. Stefan Ramin, 37 - murdered in Nuku Hiva, Marquesas.
The foreign press is screaming cannibalism. The Tahitian people are beyond appalled at this. It's insane, isn't it? Both sides act exactly how you'd expect. The local media covering their asses & rediculous sensationalism abroad, with a whirlwind in between where good information is lost in the bullshit.
It hit me very hard. I feel like I've had the wind knocked out of me.
None of this makes sense. It could just have easily been any of us. It could easily have been me.
The scenario was that of dozens I had played out in the past several weeks on these islands. They put their trust in someone, looking for a sweet real Polynesian experience. It has only ever been extremely rewarding for me. It only takes one time, the wrong person, to change everything.
The very last thing I had written was
“I could do worse than to put my faith in Tahitians."
Clamouring for direction, something, anything.
Feeling destructive, foolhardy & wreckless. Don’t look down, keep climbing.
Trying to do something to stop from spinning...
No - losing control, trying to take back control.
Disassociation. Things are calm up above. Take some time to clear your head.
Stef was a super cool guy, & brilliantly nice. His & Heike were always very hospitable. Stef had been sailing all his life, while this was Heike’s first experience. They had taken 3 years getting this far from Germany. They were set out to explore the world in it’s fullest. They were the first to congratulate us on the Pacific crossing. Stef was the only one outside the crew who had been at the helm of Paramour. He had a quirky sense of humour. On the whole passage we’d joke about something he always said that conveniently mixed 3 languages – “oh ja oh ja for sure for sure claro.”
He was a good man. He was living the dream.
How could this happen.
We are glad Heike was there with our friends on Aquamante. She wasn’t alone. I sent her a couple messages, offering to help if at all possible. Work would ease my restless soul.
I wish for one more day to give my love & repay debts…
Life is short but sweet for certain.
This story's old but it goes on & on until we disappear
We are the risen after the storm
Rest in peace
Washed up on the beach
This is the end.