The Atua Man: A Novel

Mata‘i reached Tahuata in the morning and sailed into Vaitahu. A red-roofed church stood at one end of the cove and the tin-roofed houses spread out from there. The mountains rose gently from the lee shore, and the terrain was dryer, with yellow meadows between the valleys dense with jungle. And the water was exceptionally clear. Three yachts were anchored off the beach. Larry saw the yachts anchored in the bay and European people on the beach. That whole picture turned Larry off, and he tacked back out to sea.

“What now?” Melanie was videotaping the beach and turned her camera on Larry.

“I think Gauguin’s pink beach is just up the coast,” Larry said in to the camera. “Let’s play there and forget all these strangers.”

Two hours later Mata‘i inched close to a pristine beach. The aquamarine water was so clear that twenty feet looked like two. Jason took a continual sounding, measuring the depth moment by moment. He was sure they were going to run aground. When the Mata‘i finally dropped her hook, she was just a few feet from shore. Dense coconut trees framed a quarter mile of pink sand, and every one of the crew felt like they were the first people on Earth. Larry kept the dinghy in its chocks, and as soon as the stern anchor was set, to keep the boat from swinging on to the sand, all four denizens of Mata‘i dove overboard and swam to a beach that had no footprints. The rest of that day was spent in the water, snorkeling and exploring. It was so salty and buoyant it took no effort to float.

While Jason watched a cowrie make faint tracks in the sand, and contemplated picking it up as a souvenir, he thought about how great Larry’s gift was to bring them here. This was how Larry expressed love; by sharing his vision of paradise. Jason decided to leave the shell in its natural environment.

Melanie felt guilty making footprints in the sand but got over it. She made sand angels instead of snow angels, and later, Jason and David built sand tikis at the waterline. When not in the water, the three of them lounged in the cockpit while Larry tended to one of his never-ending projects. The Mata‘i was Larry’s most enduring relationship.