Kijana (35 page)

Beau suddenly demanded to know why everyone was in such a heavy mood. I didn't really want to start unloading all the shit in my head, and I didn't want to dredge up the Josh incident of the previous day. So I offered the lame excuse that we were sad that Maya only had a couple of days left before her time was up.

All that succeeded in doing was sending Beau into orbit. He unleashed a torrent of abuse at me. Everything came out. Being forced to hide his smokes, every decision influenced by the office, the constant gloom because Maya wasn't allowed to join us. He nearly exploded at me.

‘It's your trip more than anyone's. It fucking pisses me off. You talk about all this stuff . . . you know – about living your dream – you're full of shit! When you first told me about this trip I thought it was brilliant, 'cos we were doing it
our
way. I don't believe you anymore. You're in love but you won't stand up for her. You're a fucking wimp ...'

His words cut deep and I could see the look of horror on Maya's face. But I should have expected it. Just as I could rely on Beau on the boat, I could also rely on him to force me to face anything too awkward and confronting.

He continued his tirade: ‘... and we're meant to be filming
everything
, why don't we film this, it's been the fucking
real
trip . . . but no one will ever know ...'

Josh immediately fired back.

‘Beau, the reason you are here is because there's an office back home working their arses off so we can all be here – they don't get paid unless we make the docos to sell. We have to do what they want sometimes because they're the reason we're out here. If you want me to film you being a drunken dickhead I'll do it, but that won't get our docos sold,
OK
!'

It was an argument that had been presented to Beau many months earlier, yet he still found it hard to accept. To him, having to set up shots for the camera made things fake and betrayed the true meaning of the trip, especially when we asked him to repeat an action. It went against everything he was aiming for on a spiritual level.

Beau was livid, this time with Josh.

‘See that's what I mean, out of everything we've done, why not film this. It's probably the most important discussion we'll have.'

‘We're out of tape,' Josh replied. I knew we weren't, for we had plenty of tape, but Josh wanted to get Beau off his case.

I jumped back into the fray in an attempt to calm things. ‘Beau, I know what you're saying but you've said it over and over. I get the point . . . You can stop, OK. If you don't want to act out something for the sake of capturing our experiences, then don't. But understand that Josh and I have to! We can't always be as “real” as you!'

I knew as soon as the words came out of my mouth that it was a mean thing to say, but he was bringing up more problems than I was willing to face.

‘That's it,' he declared, ‘I'm going, I'm leaving as soon as we get back to Phuket. This trip is fucked.'

I knew he meant it and I knew he was right. Kijana had a lot of problems, not just the obvious financial ones, and they were only beginning to surface. I was mostly to blame that it had come to this, for throughout the trip I'd run away from our problems. When something came up, instead of confronting it, I'd let it fester. My problem was that I was always in the middle. I couldn't please everyone. Taking one side meant opposing another, as I'd just shown by ridiculing Beau. The thing I wanted the most – peace and harmony – appeared to be impossible to attain.

We solemnly tossed sand on the fire and headed back in the dinghy to
Kijana
, heading straight to our cabins without so much as a whisper. Maya seemed too shocked to offer me any solace. It was the worst night of my life, far worse than any of the early nights on the trip. Everything that made up my world felt damaged, and I felt paralysed by what had happened.

The tourists returned early the next morning aboard the first longboats, crawling and sprawling over our broken dream. I didn't care – they could have
The Beach
. I wanted to get away from Maya Bay as fast as we could to leave our awful experience behind, so we set sail without setting foot on her shores again. Anyway, Maya had to return to Phuket to catch her flight the following day, with Beau intending to go through with his threat and leave soon after.

Josh untied
Kijana
's mooring line from the buoy while I started the motor and pointed the bow towards Phuket. It was an awful trip, with no one speaking unless absolutely necessary.

By the time we arrived in Phuket we were back on talking terms, but it was strictly a logistical conversation – where to anchor, the time of Maya's flight and where Beau should call the office to tell them of his decision to suddenly leave.

That night Beau and Josh wandered off separately to get dinner at one of the many food stalls on the island, while Maya and I wanted to make the most of our time together, spending it in the comfort of a hotel on the other side of the island. As we sat down to dinner, she wanted to know what was going to happen. I assured her it would work itself out.

‘But how?' she asked.

‘I don't know, it just will, OK. Trust me!'

She continued to push but I had no more answers. I became agitated by her questioning until I eventually snapped at her. She burst into tears and stormed off down the street, which made me feel even worse. When faced with tears by Mika and Nicolette I'd never known what to do, except be annoyed. But Maya's tears affected me differently. I followed her out of the restaurant in utter distress. In my head I knew she was being an annoying emotional girl, but, unlike with Mika and Nicolette, this time I cared.

Back in the hotel room I apologised for making our final night together so miserable. I still couldn't answer her questions about how I was going to solve the trip's problems, but once we kissed I at least felt better.

The following morning we returned to
Kijana
to collect Maya's bags, then Josh, Maya and I grabbed a taxi to Phuket airport, leaving Beau to pack his bags for his flight home the following day.

When it came time for her to board the plane, Maya and I shared our last few moments together. She tried to hide her tears, while I wished mine would come. But they remained locked away by some biological survival system, switched on while I maintained my air of being the unaffected leader of Kijana.

As she walked through the security gates, Josh yelled to Maya at the top of his voice: ‘Your genital herpes cream is at the bottom of the small backpack. Make sure you apply it during the flight.' She broke into a smile, which broke my heart, then disappeared onto the plane.

Beau had packed by the time Josh and I got back to
Kijana
. I held no grudge against him, for I knew he needed to go. The compromises made to be on
Kijana
were too much for him and I was proud he'd taken a stand for something he believed in.

The office hadn't said much when he'd told them he was leaving, but I knew the departure of yet another crew member was killing any chance of selling our documentaries. Their immediate concern was that Josh and I find new crew as soon as possible – a concept a million miles from my mind.

Our last night as a trio would have been too uncomfortable and confronting for us to spend together, so we accepted an invitation to join a group of yachties at a barbecue on the beach. We ate dinner, then mingled with our dining companions. Most of them were older than us – tanned women with short hair and wrinkles and husbands cradling a beer and chatting about self-steering systems. It was interesting conversation but not what I was seeking. Chatting about our next port of call seemed too surreal, and explaining that Beau was heading home in the morning even more so.

One of the Australian couples was being visited by their son, Jake, and daughter, Mandy, who were both around our age, so we spent most of the time sitting with them. When it got dark and the mosquitoes started to bite, the oldies headed to bed, so the five of us decided to make a night of it. Jake wanted to hit the nightclubs of Patong, while Mandy came along to keep an eye on her younger brother.

We hailed a passing passenger truck heading for Patong Beach, the well-known sleazy area of Phuket, with its night markets, strip shows and restaurants. We climbed onto the luggage racks on the roof without the driver seeming to care. The refreshing evening air blasted through our hair as we climbed the hills and passed the beaches lining the coast. It was a moment of pure freedom as I watched the landscape pass us by.

Looking around at Beau and Josh, I reflected on the times we'd shared the same feeling. Like the relief of making it off the reef, having pulled through together. It had been a spiritual experience and no one else could understand that feeling other than those who had been there. Or the adrenaline of shooting a wild pig, then the sudden guilt at what we'd done; our joint frustration at the girls; whacking the river stones in Borneo and the solitary nights on watch knowing the rest of the crew were safely asleep under one person's command. These were the real moments of paradise – things we'd shared together, not places we'd sailed to.

My thoughts were interrupted when the driver stopped on the main strip of Patong, signalling for us to jump off. We joined the hordes of tourists, families, backpackers and Thai hustlers on the crowded footpaths.

After we'd wandered into an open-air bar, Jake asked about our adventures, so we happily recounted tales of places we'd visited and things we'd seen. Jake and Mandy stared wide-eyed at our recollections, obviously envious of what sounded like the ultimate adventure. Not surprisingly, Mandy asked why Beau was leaving. I shrugged my shoulders, not wanting to go into it, preferring to leave it to Beau to explain. He struggled to put his reasons into words and began to get frustrated. Mandy and Jake looked on as Beau worked himself into an angry state as he told them about ‘fakeness' and Maya. I stayed out of it. If Beau wanted to bring it up, then he could deal with it himself. Josh cut in, telling Beau he was starting to rant and rave.

‘We just want to have a fun night,' Josh said. I agreed. We'd been through all this before, and all I felt like doing was having one last memorable night together.

‘Just give it a rest, OK Beau,' I said in a pissed-off tone.

But he wouldn't, turning his attention to me and continuing where he left off from at
The Beach
.

‘I thought this trip was about being honest . . . ' I said nothing in response, so he continued.

‘Do you love Maya or not? Why don't you stand up for what you want?'

I could feel Josh's rising anger and glanced at our new friends, Mandy and Jake, embarrassed by what they were witnessing.

I turned and began to walk away, but Beau ran and grabbed me in a bear hug.

‘Answer the question!' he yelled.

‘Get off me,' I said, as I prised his arms apart and attempted to walk off again.

I'd taken three steps when I felt a blow to the right side of my face. I turned around in time to register it was Beau, just before his second punch connected with my cheek.

Never in my life had I been punched, and never in my wildest dreams did I expect the first punch would be thrown by Beau.

‘What the fuck do you want?' I screamed like never before. It came from the bottom of my lungs, its primal twang seemingly sobering up every partygoer within 50 metres.

Before he could answer, two security men interrupted, asking us to leave the bar area.

‘I just want to talk to him,' Beau tried to explain as they looked to me with a puzzled expression. It hadn't looked like much of a conversation so far.

‘OK, we'll go outside,' I said to them, trying to maintain some composure.

We found a wall to sit against and I prepared for a God-almighty argument. I was going to give it to him, cut him down to size, tell him what a little shit he was and how he was as much to blame for Kijana's problems as anyone. But Beau had run out of steam. He couldn't put a sentence together, let alone an argument. Instead, he began to sob, gasping for breath as if he'd been thrust under a cold shower.

The only way to describe it was that something inside him had broken. All that anger, confusion and disappointment – it had exploded inside him and here was the result. Any aggression I felt towards him disappeared in an instant. He was no longer a crazed boxing Buddhist who I should be afraid of, but just a confused boy who needed someone to share his troubles with.

After a minute or so he was able to speak. He explained, through his tears, that he wanted to know if we were still friends. He wanted permission from the captain to leave the trip and he needed confirmation that he was making the right choice. He wanted me to face the problems that had existed on the trip since the day it began and he needed a brother who cared as much about him as he did about me. A punch was the only way he knew how to say all of that.

I realised then that I faced a monumental choice. If I agreed with Beau, and gave my blessing to him leaving, I was conceding that leaving was the right thing to do. It was a case of choosing between forgetting all our woes and forging ahead with Kijana versus Beau and Maya.

I was standing at the biggest crossroads of my life.

Throughout the trip I'd taken inspiration from the Yolngu custom of leaving the sick behind when survival of the tribe was the priority. It was why Mika and Nicolette departed, and why Beau now had to go. They had to be cut out for the good of Kijana. I now realised I was one of the sick people. It was no use blaming everyone else for Kijana's woes. I was the one who had made all the promises and selected the crew. Kijana may have been my dream, but now I was standing in its way.

All of a sudden, the person I thought I was – adventurer, leader and wanna-be visionary – disintegrated. I felt the complete opposite of all of those things as my own sobbing overtook the noises coming from Beau. He was taken aback by my breakdown and stared in amazement. I'd never been so open with another human, not even my brother. My emotional tap had been turned on and I felt like I was washing myself clean.