It turns out that trying to understand the shipping schedule in Tuvalu is a bit like trying to discuss the meaning of life in a nightclub – both parties ask the right questions, then follows lots of noise and wildly exaggerated hand gestures, but ultimately no one has a clue what is going on and so the answer is never reached.   After peering into my crystal ball, consulting the Rosetta stone, and asking for some local assistance, I came to the conclusion that I needed a ticket for route (ii) whatever that meant...