By Ali Coombe
Our family leaves at first light to take advantage of the calmer seas of early morning. A 20-foot fiberglass boat with outboard engine, called a "canoe" by the local people, will take us 20 miles across the sea from Honiara to our village on Big Gela Island.

We are waiting on the beach with our water supply and box of food at 8 a.m. when the "canoe driver" arrives. However, he decides to go into town to do some shopping. By the time he returns, we have sweated off our sunscreen and drunk all our water. We need a bathroom, but there's none on the beach. Worst of all, the seas are now rough.
Our driver tosses several 20-kilo bags of salt, sugar, rice, etc. into the already full boat. It begins to rain. There's no cover on the canoe, but we choose to go anyway. Our other option is wait up to six weeks for a larger ship with a captain willing to drop us at the village.
An hour out to sea, waves begin breaking over the bow. Seawater drenches the people seated up front. In the stern, men can't bail fast enough. Despite their efforts, the overloaded boat is in danger of sinking.
We don't usually see ships on this route, but today we see one, and the driver flags it down. Timing the waves, men hand the children up to the ship's deck. Next they transfer the women and then our cargo which, like us, is totally soaked. My husband Taylor decides to stay with the canoe and driver, trusting they can make it to shore without the load of people and cargo.

The children and I sit on the deck shivering as wind rips through our wet clothes. Nearly everyone is seasick. I watch the canoe as it crests a wave and then disappears into the trough of another and wonder if I'll ever see my husband again.

Translators Taylor and Ali Coombe work with the 13,000 Gela-speaking people on Big Gela, one of the Solomon Islands.