This is a Job, not a Vacation

Bill in the midst of multiple realities.

Gaston and crew getting some below ground drainage works going.

Steve doing his amazing framer magic.

Without a doubt there is a lot of work going on here, the moments at the beach or cruising around the villages are of excellent quality, that is what makes working in this hot (now winter, December would be 10 degrees warmer, i.e. sun-baked) environment a must-do-if-can situation. Breezes are frequent and shade is also available, so if the remodel part were done or eliminated the percentage of perfect moments would be quite high, you’d just need the cash to match them, the high price of basic commodities on these islands never fails to shake you. Oh yes, a good mosquito net and an extra large hammock would also be nice to have, I’ll write that down on the next-time-list.

We have all been so excited about the job these past days that the ritual mid-day beach recesses have vanished, how could this be? Charlie has been on task and working quick and clean, even if his hour management is a little off, he is blending into the job mode. Steve and Roger are on a silent yet noisy quest to get this framing up up up. With the foundation footings behind them deck framing and roof framing are whipping together. Claude and Barbara, not carpenters, are doing as much as they can, cutting their design on the top of the fence posts, getting supplies (local and in Papeete), handling visitors, cleaning up messes, keeping the most current design ideas and procedure in our face, and organizing the tool area. I am doing the interior remodeling and back-up project management which includes taking photos. We are all hustling together with noted progress recharging our tanned and sweating bodies.




Claude showing us the glass block tiles that will become the new indoor shower wall, the outdoor shower will be in the patio to-be-made near this same space.
Without Barbara’s dedication to planning and organization the show would be just limping along, instead we are pedal to the metal getting multiple tasks opened up and engaged. The supply pipeline is also kept primed this way, due to the nature of materials’ availability here searching and ordering must always be far ahead of les boys on the job.

We got so deeply into the job recently that five days went by before we could soak ourselves in the nearby lagoon (480 easy feet from our deck to where the water meets the sand). We all know that there is a time limit here, a day, a couple of weeks away is coming where we will be packing up and moving out. The place must have a roof, be lockable, and the original interior rentable for the next eight months while Claude and Barbara take care of their affairs in Port Townsend and New Zealand. Somehow they have made this itinerant schedule work for them, and it is a kind of work. They are always on, open to the universe, willing to play with it, or as Claude would say, willing to “biff” things, that means toss it, dump it, give it away, move it, in order to keep momentum and move forward to what ever the great energy has in store, this is courage. Claude loves to talk with people and is quite jovial, yet at the same time, when it comes to making deals, expediting specialty tasks such as plumbing or electrical, or conducting trans-oceanic financial affairs (albeit not large), he is shrewd and efficient, shaking out the best deal, usually resulting in a win/win arrangement.

On a completely different note, doing remodel work, which is a special art unto itself in the world of construction, always involves the demolition of old construction and exposure to various unknown, although not unexpected, hazards. Nasty materials, extremes in dust and noise, dangerous debris being moved around in areas that look more like war zones force one to stay alert and ready for surprises. Under these conditions one accepts the occasional scrape, cut, or poke which breaks the skin and draws blood, as part of the profession. In a tropical area such as Moorea the occurrence of what is an acceptable wound takes on a new dimension, it doesn’t behave the same as it would in the more temperate climes. The cut or wound is warm; it stays warm and wet in a juicy way. Bugs, little flies, and powdered demolition debris are instantly attracted to the reddened area. Because of the heat it is quite uncomfortable to wear the amount of protective clothing usually considered standard. Washing the damaged area is a must, putting an antibiotic ointment on it immediately then spraying it with insecticide to keep the bugs from feeding on it come along with putting on a band-aid. Lurking in the background is the fear that your wound could upgrade itself into a staff infection, thus festering, becoming more painful, going deeper into your body. A staff infection must be treated with great respect, uncontrolled it can cause blood poisoning, turn into the difficult to control flesh-eating disease, and occasionally lead to death.

So, when remodeling in a tropical environment, one might have a beautiful blue lagoon only 480 feet away and thousands of coconuts hanging from the palms, but hot sweaty work is hot sweaty work, and infections on the skin are just as common as infections in the guts. The availability of food is limited and very different from the temperate diet. One naturally eats the tasty fruits and locally caught fish, yet this requires refrigeration if not eaten immediately and also doesn’t quite give you the full feeling you are used to. In particular, here in this French colony, white bread is the standard, very light and empty. There are completely familiar food items for sale in some of the stores, the packages of junk food chips etc. along with very French connoisseur bad-for-you items, it is all so expensive you think there is a trick of some sort, like a 75% discount at a secret insider register, that kind of thing but there isn’t.