Log 9 - Tuamotus to Societies
(August 8, 2004 - latest)
AHE
RANGIROA
TAHITI
August 8, 2004 - August 25, 2004 (Dana)
On August 8, we quietly motored out of Taiohae Bay to begin our 500 mile voyage
to the Tuamotus. The Tuamotu archipelago is made up of 76 coral atolls, 30
of which are permanently uninhabited and 46 of which support small populations.
An atoll is a ring-like coral island and reef that encloses a lagoon. Atolls
were once volcanic islands around which coral reefs formed, but after thousands
of years, the volcanic island has eroded away until it is completely submerged,
leaving only the ring of coral remaining at sea level. Some of the atolls
have unbroken circular reefs, but many others consist of a chain of coral islets
(motus), with gaps that can be used as passes for boats to enter the
lagoon. Rain is the only source of fresh water on these atolls, and the
coral soil means the produce that can grow there is limited. However,
coconut palms thrive in the Tuamotus, the fishing is good, and the lagoons are
home to most of the pearl farms that supply jewelry stores throughout "Tahiti
and her islands".
The nature of the Tuamotus requires that they be navigated with extreme care to
avoid colliding with the reefs, which could tear up a hull and swallow a boat in
a blink of an eye. In fact, over the past few hundred years, so many ships
have mistakenly ran into and wrecked upon the atolls of the archipelago that it
has been referred to as the "Dangerous Archipelago". The primary cause of
such wrecks is that the atolls rarely rise more
than 10 feet above sea level (with coconut palms adding another 50-75 feet of
height), and so they are visible at best for 7 to 10 miles in clear weather and
at worst for only 100 yards in
darkness or rainy weather. Therefore, boats
navigating through the archipelago must keep a close lookout. For those
wishing to enter into the interior lagoon of an atoll, there's an added
challenge of navigating the passes through the reef, which usually must be done
at slack water (the time of which can be estimated based on things like
moonrises and low and high tides) to avoid strong currents and agitated waters
that can overpower a vessel. In addition, even once you've made it into
the pass, there are scattered coral heads to avoid hitting and you must watch
the water for changes in color indicating shallow depths or jutting coral heads.
For that reason, it is advisable to enter on a clear day with the sun at such an
angle that it is not glaring in your eyes. Nonetheless, so long as proper
care is taken, sailors should have no trouble navigating the Tuamotus. And
once anchored safely inside the inner lagoon, the atolls treat you to an
enchantingly unique environment of bright jade and blue waters thriving with
marine life, motus covered in coconut palms, and small villages with locals
(mostly black pearl cultivators, copra producers and fishermen) who tend to be
warm and welcoming to cruisers.
After getting under way from Nuku Hiva we studied our charts and cruising books
to decide which atolls in the Tuamotus to stop at, and which passes to use.
There are so many we would have liked to have visited, but we felt like we had
to restrict ourselves to a limited schedule to fit in both the Tuamotus and the
majority of the Society Islands before leaving for Hawaii in early November.
So we picked two -- Ahe and Rangiroa. The four-day voyage getting to Ahe
was quite pleasant. The weather was calm so we sailed some and motored
some, but there was very little swell so it was a comfortable ride. During
the night of the 10th we left our fishing line out and caught a large squid,
which made for tasty calamari the next morning after draining him of loads of
ink and dislodging his suctiony tentacles from the cutting board. The rest
of the day was leisurely, as we didn't want to arrive at Ahe until slack water
the next morning. So we had a spa day, giving ourselves manicures and
pedicures and luxuriating in a warm freshwater shower. By nightfall, the
seas were extremely calm and glassy with all the stars reflected perfectly on
the surface. We passed through patches of bioluminescence different than
any we'd seen. Usually, we see a sparkling luminescence or a green glow
that lights up when the water is activated by our hull, a dolphin, a hand, or
anything else passing through it. But this night, we saw patches of
luminescence coming alive like giant spotlights being turned on under water, and
suddenly there would be large circular patches of lit water all around us.
With our sails down and our motor off we let ourselves drift along and enjoy the
serenity of the calm night and the spectacle of the bioluminescence and
reflected stars in the water all around us, as well as dozens of stars shooting
through the sparkling sky overhead.
Shortly before sunrise, we started motoring to arrive at the pass at the time we
calculated for slack water. As the sun rose and we made our way along the
coast of Ahe, we saw another boat,
Freelance, headed for the pass as well. Freelance is a 90-year
old gaff-rigged wood boat with a tanbark (reddish) mainsail that we had seen in
Taiohae Bay and watched with some awe and amusement.
She was sailed by a single handler who didn't like to use his motor, so we would
watch him tack back and forth very slowly making his way into and out of the
bay. One time while he was slowly tacking his way in, we watched from our
boat, then took Ker-Les to the dinghy dock, walked to town, ran some
errands, bought baguettes and cheese, walked back to the dinghy dock, then saw
him still sailing, only about half way into the bay. He was a perfect
picture of patience, independence and love of traditional sailing. So when
we saw him this morning heading for the pass at the same time we were, we
figured he of all people knew what he was doing and must have calculated slack
water to be at the same time we did.
As Freelance sailed for the pass, we radioed hello and motored slowly
past to begin our first entry into an atoll. I was at the helm, and Chris
was aloft standing on the top ratline to get a clearer view of the depths and
obstacles beneath the water's surface, as well as to capture some video of the
event. We approached from about a mile off at just the right angle to
clear the outer reef and the breakers rolling onto it. The pass was indeed
fairly slack and calm, and the only thing a little hairy about it was how close
we came to land as we passed between the motus on either side. As we
motored through the only deep area between the motus, land rose above the water
less than a boat length to our port, and shallow water with coral heads near the
surface were immediately to our right. But we easily made our way into the
inner lagoon, where a well-marked channel helped us avoid coral heads while
crossing to the opposite side where we could anchor off Tenukuiara Village.
While selecting a spot to drop the anchor, we quickly noted that even the
anchorage area was dotted with unmarked coral heads, and we carefully dodged
them and selected a spot where we could have enough swinging room without
bumping into one.
Once
we were settled at anchor, we prepared our welcome drinks and watched
Freelance sailing through the channel. Eventually, he gracefully
tacked into the anchorage and adjusted his lightweight jib to maneuver to a spot
a little beyond us and drop his anchor, all flawlessly, and perfectly
silhouetted in the morning sun. Chris in particular was in awe, and now
had a new hero. Less than an hour later his new hero was rowing over to
our boat to say hi and we invited him to join us onboard. He
was Bruno, a
Frenchman from Corsica who lived in Canada for several years and so he spoke
English very well, albeit with a thick but endearing French accent. He's a
movie set designer by trade, but has always dreamed of sailing around the world
and has been living his dream life for the past year or so. He
looks, however, like he's been sailing all his life, with a deep tropical tan,
long curly hair and a shell necklace hanging on his usually shirtless chest.
After the introductions, we exchanged admiration for each other's boats and wood
boats in general, and how cool it was that our two wood boats were the only two
boats at this beautiful little spot in the world. Chris then told Bruno
how impressed he was with his abilities and the fact that he sailed through the
pass and into the anchorage. Bruno explained that he loves to sail and
never used his motor much (partly to save on fuel costs), but now his engine
isn't working so he couldn't use it if he wanted to. When we think of all
the cruisers whose trips come to a halt when something as unnecessary as their
refrigerator or air conditioning stops working, its refreshing to see someone
who just continues on unwaivered when something as major as his engine stops
working. What amenities do you really need on your boat anyway?
Bruno's motor actually could be easily fixed, but I think he enjoys the purity
of sailing without it. Chris then went on to say how it was also
impressive that under sail he managed to arrive at the pass at exactly the time
of slack water. To that Bruno replied: "Oh, was that when slack
water was supposed to be? I just went to bed for the night and decided
that if I was near the pass when I woke up I'd go in, otherwise I'd go on to
Rangiroa. I woke up and there it was!" This would come to be Bruno's
M.O. -- to acknowledge his luck and instinct more than his own skills. He
claims his nose is his radar (he instinctively wakes up if there's another boat
or land in the vicinity), and rarely attributes any of his accomplishments to
his own prowess. But part of that may be just Bruno's entertaining way of
telling stories, always with a smile and humor. When pressed, he'll admit
that he does take some precautions, and was going to skip Ahe if the currents in
the pass looked too rough to sail through.
About an hour into our visit with Bruno, we noticed a surprisingly large cargo
ship heading our way, and then we were told we'd have to move further from the
village quay so the ship would have room to maneuver. We re-anchored
further away, then eventually Bruno returned to his boat and we were quickly
enticed to explore the new underwater environment around us. We snorkeled
just in the anchorage area, but there were plentiful coral formations and even
underwater pearl farms to check out. We also discovered for the first time
pahua, giant clams with large overhanging lips in a variety of bright colors
that they suck in as they clam up when someone approaches. Of course we
also checked our anchor, and made sure there were no coral heads that we would
swing into if the wind direction shifted. We were clear, but Bruno's
Freelance was flanked by a good-sized coral head (potato, as he calls them)
on each side. That night, he swung into one of them, scratching his hull a
bit, so in the morning he pulled up anchor and drifted over to a clearer spot.
Later that day, the kids of the village decided to check out their newest
residents. They started off by sending three girls on a reconnaissance
mission. After paying a visit to Bruno, they kayaked over to our boat and
we let them onboard. The three girls -- Jennifer (pretty and sweet, never
having visited cruisers before), Natalia (the outgoing and confident
spokesperson) and Soledad (a quiet, pretty girl who was a tomboy and wore no
shirt) -- where polite and friendly, and all around ages 8-10. They spoke
no English but were very patient with our French as they asked lots of questions
and explored our boat. As nightfall approached, we said they could return
the next day and we'd take them sailing in Ker-Les, and gave them a time
of 2pm to come by.
The
next day was a Friday, but the village kids were on summer vacation so they were
not in school. Instead, as we discovered glancing over to Freelance,
Jennifer, Soledad, Natalia and three boys were all on Bruno's boat, climbing
around like little monkeys and jumping off his spreaders. Around noon,
they couldn't wait for 2pm any longer and started kayaking and swimming over to
our boat. We let them all on, and the girls presented us with four black
pearls as a gift, which we appreciated very much. The six then proceeded
to explore Ker-Mor and before we knew it they were climbing our ratlines
and jumping off our spreaders. At one point there was a kid sitting on
each spreader and a couple more coming up the ratlines, and, never having
thought we'd ever allow a kid on the spreaders at all, we instead found
ourselves insisting loudly that there could only be one kid on the spreaders at
a time. While Chris kept an eye on the three boys and Soledad playing
above deck, I showed Jennifer and Natalia around below and gave them a couple
gifts - Natalia a tank top and Jennifer a red bandana. Jennifer looked so
cute and pleased in her bandana that I whipped out my pirate costume
paraphernalia and dressed them up. 
We took pictures and hung out while
Chris set up the sailing rig on Ker-Les. The rest of the
afternoon, we took turns sailing with the kids, eating popcorn and pamplemousse,
supervising as little hands rummaged through our stuff and basically trying to
keep the kids (mostly the boys) from getting completely out of hand. At
the end of the day, we literally had to kick them off the boat, and we collapsed
of exhaustion but having had a fun time.
As Saturday rolled around, a third cruising boat entered into our anchorage, the
large fiberglass Beneteau sloop Drala Magic, breaking up our little wood
boat monopoly. We had met Roy (owner) and Charlie and Victor (crew) of
Drala Magic back in Nuku Hiva (they came to our wedding), but we had never
spent any time alone with them and gotten to know them, a deficiency we'd have
the pleasure of alleviating shortly. After sailing Ker-Les to a
reef and snorkeling in some amazingly bright shallow waters, a quietly kind boy,
Wilson, kayaked over to get a closer look at us and then had some fun pushing us
back to the anchorage with his kayak
behind Ker-Les, which had become underpowered by light winds. We
had him drop us off at
Drala Magic, and we climbed onboard and joined Bruno in visiting with our
new neighbors.
The
more we've gotten to know the Drala Magic guys, the more we love them.
One of the most endearing things about them is how different they all are, but
how well work together as crew and as friends. Roy, the sixty-something
year-old owner, was born in England, then lived in Canada, then in the U.S.,
where he started a very successful company and worked day and night to earn as
much money as possible. He had fancy homes, fancy friends, an obscene
amount of expensive clothes, etc. Work and money were everything to him,
until he and his wife divorced and he decided he wanted to change his life even
more. He sold the business to her, and moved to Cabo San Lucas. At
some point he bought Drala Magic and decided to go cruising around the
world, and he's never been happier. Enter Victor, the twenty or
thirty-something year old Mexican who used to be Mr. Cabo party animal working
at Señor Frog's and living with female strippers. At some point, he
decided to change his life by stopping drinking, the five year
anniversary of which he's now celebrating. That of course does not make
him any less fun to be around, and he is a happy and likable guy. Victor
met Roy in Cabo while working in a restaurant then ran into him a year later, at
which point Roy had bought the boat and asked Roy if he wanted to crew.
By the next morning he was packed and ready to go. Charlie, a forty-something
American who used to work for a pharmaceutical company in San Diego, came on a
while later. Charlie is a spiritual guy who is very in touch with his body
and emotions. He has a loving and deep-thinking personality, with an
impressively healthy and energetic body to boot. Sometime after a divorce,
he found himself like Roy and Victor living in Cabo, working as a licensed
masseur and health educator of sorts. After one of his massage clients
told him about Roy and that he should consider crewing with him, he likewise
ditched land-life to round out the Drala Magic team.
After
visiting with the guys on Drala Magic, and yelling at kids who swam over
to our boat and Bruno's while we were away to get off, Chris and I dinghied
ashore and spent the rest of the day exploring the atoll while, unbeknownst to
us, the boys took our dinghy out for some touring of the bay. The next day
was Sunday, and the kids' last day of vacation before going back to school, so
they came out in full force to visit us on Ker-Mor once again. We
were busy doing other things, but told them that they could go rowing in our
boat as long as they didn't go out further than a certain identified distance.
When the boys took it further than they were supposed to, all bets were off and
Chris hailed them back to the boat where he retrieved back Ker-Les and sent them
on their way. We made the boys who broke Chris' rule swim back, while I
rowed the girls and the youngest boy to shore. Once there, the kids wanted
to give me a tour of their village, which they did, a whole bunch of little
people swarming about me. The girls all wanted to hold my hand so I had
one or two of
them on each side, and those that weren't holding my hand wanted to carry
something of mine like my camera case or water bottle. It must have been a
funny sight to the local adults to see me touring around with my swarming posse.
We visited their school, they picked coconuts and fruit from trees for me,
showed me a shark's head in the lagoon, etc. Eventually, we made our way
to Jennifer's house so I could meet her mom. When we arrived, Jennifer
showed her some pictures I had printed out for Jennifer of all the activities
we'd been doing. Jennifer's mom was very kind and thankful that we had
been warm hosts to her daughter, and asked if Chris and I could come by the next
morning before we left for Rangiroa to say goodbye. I said of course, and
the kids escorted me back to the dinghy.
The morning of the 17th, we, Freelance, Drala Magic and a fourth
cruising boat that had arrived, Horace (which magically tamed the local
kids one afternoon where we saw them all quietly coloring on deck), all prepared
to sail overnight to Rangiroa. When Chris and
I were ready to go, we dinghied ashore and walked to Jennifer's house. Her
mom was there to greet us and then whispered to Jennifer through the window that
we were there. After a minute or two Jennifer came out with two bunches of
shell necklaces she had made and put them around our necks. Her mom said
she'd been working on them all evening. After that we spoke at length with
her mom (who spoke no English). She was very kind and wished we were
staying so she could make dinner for us and introduce us to all the local foods.
In retrospect, I'm not quite sure why we didn't just stay an extra day, but its
hard to reverse to a decision that its time to move on. She thanked us for
being so friendly to Jennifer, and making her first experience visiting a
cruising boat a good one. She said that Jennifer took quite a liking to
us, and was very sad we were leaving. We took quite a liking to Jennifer
as well, and took her address so we could keep in touch. We said we'd wave
to them as we sailed out of the bay, exchanged hugs and kisses, and headed back
to Ker-Mor.
Raising our anchor took some fancy footwork with Ker-Mor to unweave the
chain from the numerous low coral heads it zigzagged around over the past five
days. But after 20 minutes or so we got it up and were waiving back at
Jennifer, her mom and her little sister as we pulled away from the village to
cross back through the lagoon and exit the pass at slack water. But now
that Chris had seen Bruno sail through the pass, there was no way we were going
to motor. We hoisted our sails and eased through the channel and the pass
to Chris' delight. Freelance, Horrace and Drala Magic
were not far behind us, but we all disappeared from each other's view by
nightfall.
We
arrived at Rangiroa, the largest atoll in the Tuamotus, before sunrise.
"Rangi" has two passes to choose from, Tiputa and Avatoru, each of which has
anchorages nearby that we planned to visit. However, we arrived at the
first pass, Tiputa, while it was still dark, so we continued on to the further
Avatoru pass to enter shortly after sunrise, around the time of slack water.
Again, thanks to Bruno, now we had to sail through passes. This time, even
though it was approximately slack water there was a strong current to fight and
not a lot of wind to power us, so we inched through at about 1 knot, with Chris
aloft taking video again. It took us about an hour to go 3/4 mile, but we
did it without the motor. Once inside the lagoon, we said screw it and
turned the motor on so it wouldn't take the whole morning getting to an
anchorage. The first spot where we dropped anchor turned out to be
uncomfortably windy and rolly, so we ended up continuing on to a more protected
spot back by
Tiputa. There, we reunited with Freelance, Horrace,
and
Drala Magic (all of which came in the Tiputa pass at sunrise) and about 10
other boats anchored in the roomy nook of the huge lagoon, big enough to hold
the island of Tahiti.
The
anchorage at Tiputa was crystal blue and picturesque, and a nearby resort with
the over-the-water bungalows that are so popular in French Polynesia extended
out towards the boats. It seems everyplace we go we discover some new form
of marine life, and here it was unicorn fish, which we would feed from our boat
to get a closer look at them and their "horns" poking up out of the water as
they snatched bread. Tiputa also had a small spread-out town with a
grocery store, an amenity we had not had access to since Taiohae Bay. So
we excitedly bought fresh baguettes (always a bargain at around 45¢ each) as
well as diet coke and other highly over-priced food items. Unfortunately
for Drala Magic, the store did not sell any alcohol so they took their
dinghy a couple miles to the next town to renew their precious Hinano beer
stores. The event was cause for celebration, so they had us and Bruno over
for dinner. Two nights later, we had the whole gang over to our boat for
apps and drinks, and we hung out and talked all night, and awaited a text
message on our sat phone informing us of the outcome of a major back surgery my
dad was undergoing. When word arrived, we all toasted my dad and were
thankful for good news.
Aside
from grocery shopping and bonding with Bruno and the Drala Magic guys,
the highlight of Rangiroa was the snorkeling. Our first day of snorkeling
Chris snorkeled the pass, a unique experience where you float with the incoming
current, while I manned the dinghy. The current, however, was being
uncooperative by going out instead of coming in. But we enjoyed a show
being put on by some dolphins playing in the pass' waves, and then moved on to a
nearby motu where we anchored the dinghy and enjoyed clear views of colorful
fish and varied coral formations. The next day Chris manned the dinghy as
I snorkeled the pass, catching up with Victor, Charlie and Bruno who were doing
the same. But again, the current was being uncooperative by going the
wrong way. I decided to stick with it anyway, and Chris left me in the
hands of our friends and their dinghy as he headed back to the boat for a rest.
Victor, Charlie, Bruno and I stayed in the pass for a while, then returned to
the motu that Chris and I had snorkeled the previous day. Those three
turned out to be fun to snorkel with, partly because they look so serious in
their full snorkeling regalia: wet-suits; gloves; knives strapped to legs;
etc. But also because they seem to have unusually good eyes for spotting
things underwater. Victor in particular, will appear out of nowhere and
hand me a cool shell or show me sharks that I hadn't even noticed swimming
nearby. But Chris and I manage to find interesting things as well, and
have a growing shell collection that Chris ambitiously seeks to grow when we're
snorkeling though bored by it on beaches. This day, I also managed to find
the toothy grin of a large moray eel about 2 feet from my face as I passed over
a coral formation. That was a little too close for comfort, and I turned
around to go watch some sharks instead. What I enjoyed most though were
huge schools of brightly-colored fish that took an interest in us when Victor
dispersed some crackers and remained swimming all around us long after the
crackers were gone. One large school would follow the guys down to a rock
and swim all around them in a big circle, a great view of which I enjoyed from
above. At the end of it all, we hauled ourselves into the dinghy while
light rain created a bright rainbow, and Charlie dropped us off at our
respective boats to warm up.
Two
days later on the 23rd, Chris and I left Rangiroa for Tahiti, our first stop in
the Society Islands. The first day of our 2-night / 3-day trip was a
little choppy, and on day two we were hit with several squalls. Later
that afternoon, Chris said with some relief "the seas are calmer now".
Immediately afterward, a rogue wave splashed over the side and drenched him.
By nightfall, the winds had increased and during my watch I observed the waves
building to intimidating heights. Large swells can be fairly comfortable
if they are spaced far apart, but when winds are newly freshened the swells tend
to be closer together and these were breaking and tossing us around
uncomfortably. Nonetheless,
Ker-Mor handled the waves beautifully, surging up and over them with a
graceful force. The winds continued building overnight, and we were reefed down
on our approach to Tahiti. It was not until our jib tore away from its boom that we decided to whip out our handheld wind meter and see exactly how
strong the winds were. Lo and behold, they were blowing consistently in
the 30's and gusting into the 40's. Thankfully, as soon as we entered the
Papeete pass, the barrier reef calmed the seas and the lee of the island
blocked the winds. We entered the harbor, hung a right, and
followed the channel between the island and its barrier reef to an area called
Maeva Beach as pirogues sliced through the lagoon all around us.
August 25, 2004 - September 30, 2004 (Chris)
[coming soon]
Back to
Log 8
