Author: Pam
We woke up at 0600 to make the last preparations to be ready to go by 0730. At 0715 we checked in with Mico Verde and found we had all been efficient and were ready to head out for what we hoped would be a one day sail of 40 miles. We put up the main sail with one reef and with the engine running sailed off of the mooring just behind Mico Verde. Once we were out of the pass we were sailing at 4-5 knots and life was looking good. I spent the morning finishing and proofreading the document for Sail magazine and sent it off on schedule.
The challenge of sailing between two islands presented itself around 1300 and we lost the wind almost entirely. In total we ran the engine for five hours intermittently for the rest of the trip. This was the longest we had used it with the external pump. Despite our nervousness the temperature never went above 140 degrees, which is actually very low. As we crawled along toward Bora Bora the hope of arriving before dark was getting bleaker and the idea of heaving to outside for the night was not very appealing either. We decided to head toward the pass and make our decision based on the daylight we had left when we were at the entrance. As we approached the sun was very low in the sky, but MicoVerde came to the rescue. They gave us the heading and offered to come out in their dinghy to guide us in. We decided to go for it and by the time we were half way through the pass it was dark. Stephanie and Warren had anchored in a cove just to the right of the entrance, so we decided we would anchor near them for the night and move to a mooring at the yacht club in the morning. With their help we slowly started poking around in the very small and as we soon found out very deep cove looking for a spot to anchor under 60 feet. After a few minutes of going around in circles we were also met by Trevor on Last Call and Dot’s husband on Neliandrah, both were alongside in their dinghies making suggestions. After several passes we determined Mico Verde may have gotten the last spot shallow enough for our ground tackle, so it was decided we would raft up to them for the night. It ended up being a smooth and painless process with our dinghy heros helping with handling the lines. As mentioned before Mico Verde is a 32’ Westsail, she turned out to be a perfect partner in crime for Tournesol. Phew, what an adrenal rush to come into an unknown port after dark, I keep saying we are never going to do that again and of course we would never have attempted it without assistance. Mico Verde had arrived two hours earlier, they of course had no worries with their engine and drove straight through when they lost the wind.
We made a simple dinner of beef stew and instant mashed potatoes (another one of Scott’s favorites) and then walked the four steps over to Mico Verde’s cockpit to decompress. The one day sails are probably the most stressful, there is never enough room for light wind if you don’t want to or can’t use the engine. None the less we are thrilled to be in Bora Bora, our last stop in the Society Islands.
Monday, August 15, 2005
Sunday, August 14, 2005
Journal Entry – August 14, 2005 One Day on Tahaa (ta-ha-ah)
Author Pam:
After a good night’s sleep dancing on our mooring ball we woke up early to get started on another writing assignment. We have been invited by a journalist at Sail magazine to be featured as part of an article she is writing about sailors with disabilities. She sent a list of questions to answer via e-mail, we had not been able to connect on the telephone. It is always an interesting exercise to answer questions about the bigger picture of how the trip is going, challenges, successes, our motivation… It will be interesting to see how our thoughts and experiences change over time. The article will run in the November issue of Sail and we are very excited to be included in perhaps the first article of this nature and in such a well respected sailing journal.
We worked on our project until 1100 and then headed to shore with Stephanie and Warren to go explore the fourth Society Island we have the privilege to visit. As on most of the islands so far there is one road that leads around the perimeter of the island, the question is whether you turn right or left. We opted for left and started walking toward the head of the bay where a few sailboats were reportedly anchored. It was a beautiful sunny day, perfect for a Sunday stroll. We found the streets virtually empty, only an occasional car, scooter or bicycle. We walked by a large flat wooden box full of dried coconut, we finally got to see copra up close. At one time copra was the largest exported product from the islands, this apparently isn’t as true anymore. Copra is the source for coconut oil used in everything from cooking to soap. It smells a bit funky during the drying process.
As we approached the head of the bay we walked through the town. The bank is open Tuesday and Thursday from 0800 to 1000 and there was no access to an ATM on Sunday and perhaps there is only access during business hours. There was a very attractive church, a school and one small café. If there were other businesses they were not obvious. The street, waterfront and private homes were all immaculate, there was no trash and lots of flowers.
As our hike progressed so did our hunger. I wasn’t feeling very optimistic we would find a restaurant open on Sunday. In French Polynesia most everything is closed on Sunday or if it was open it closes before church services start. As we were walking by an inconspicuous building we heard the sound of dishes clinking and smelled garlic wafting from inside, it seemed promising or perhaps we would walk in on a family Sunday dinner. We walked alongside the building toward the water and discovered a very quaint patio café and it was open for lunch. The food was good, beautiful view and the service slow which was very relaxing.
We all probably felt like a nap, but there was still the hike back to the boats. On the way back we happened on a pearl farm that was open and poked our heads in. For sure if Scott and I had been out and about alone, we probably wouldn’t have discovered the restaurant or the pearl farm. We were invited in by a woman with an Australian accent who offered to give us a short pearl farming 101 lecture. It is a very complex and costly process to grow pearls involving many steps including surgery performed usually by a professional from Japan. When we arrived back to the boats Warren and Stephanie came over for a closer look and comparison of Tournesol to Mico Verde and a cold drink. We made a plan to buddy boat to Bora Bora the next morning and agreed on a 0730 departure. Scott and I spent the evening in full circle continuing to answer the questions for Sail and cooking pasta with clam sauce for dinner.
Tahaa is a beautiful little island well worth a visit. The craggy peaks combined with the lush vegetation make it another striking south pacific slice of paradise. There is a vanilla plantation on the other side of the island that offers tours, but we opted to keep moving and not pay a visit. Maybe next time.
After a good night’s sleep dancing on our mooring ball we woke up early to get started on another writing assignment. We have been invited by a journalist at Sail magazine to be featured as part of an article she is writing about sailors with disabilities. She sent a list of questions to answer via e-mail, we had not been able to connect on the telephone. It is always an interesting exercise to answer questions about the bigger picture of how the trip is going, challenges, successes, our motivation… It will be interesting to see how our thoughts and experiences change over time. The article will run in the November issue of Sail and we are very excited to be included in perhaps the first article of this nature and in such a well respected sailing journal.
We worked on our project until 1100 and then headed to shore with Stephanie and Warren to go explore the fourth Society Island we have the privilege to visit. As on most of the islands so far there is one road that leads around the perimeter of the island, the question is whether you turn right or left. We opted for left and started walking toward the head of the bay where a few sailboats were reportedly anchored. It was a beautiful sunny day, perfect for a Sunday stroll. We found the streets virtually empty, only an occasional car, scooter or bicycle. We walked by a large flat wooden box full of dried coconut, we finally got to see copra up close. At one time copra was the largest exported product from the islands, this apparently isn’t as true anymore. Copra is the source for coconut oil used in everything from cooking to soap. It smells a bit funky during the drying process.
As we approached the head of the bay we walked through the town. The bank is open Tuesday and Thursday from 0800 to 1000 and there was no access to an ATM on Sunday and perhaps there is only access during business hours. There was a very attractive church, a school and one small café. If there were other businesses they were not obvious. The street, waterfront and private homes were all immaculate, there was no trash and lots of flowers.
As our hike progressed so did our hunger. I wasn’t feeling very optimistic we would find a restaurant open on Sunday. In French Polynesia most everything is closed on Sunday or if it was open it closes before church services start. As we were walking by an inconspicuous building we heard the sound of dishes clinking and smelled garlic wafting from inside, it seemed promising or perhaps we would walk in on a family Sunday dinner. We walked alongside the building toward the water and discovered a very quaint patio café and it was open for lunch. The food was good, beautiful view and the service slow which was very relaxing.
We all probably felt like a nap, but there was still the hike back to the boats. On the way back we happened on a pearl farm that was open and poked our heads in. For sure if Scott and I had been out and about alone, we probably wouldn’t have discovered the restaurant or the pearl farm. We were invited in by a woman with an Australian accent who offered to give us a short pearl farming 101 lecture. It is a very complex and costly process to grow pearls involving many steps including surgery performed usually by a professional from Japan. When we arrived back to the boats Warren and Stephanie came over for a closer look and comparison of Tournesol to Mico Verde and a cold drink. We made a plan to buddy boat to Bora Bora the next morning and agreed on a 0730 departure. Scott and I spent the evening in full circle continuing to answer the questions for Sail and cooking pasta with clam sauce for dinner.
Tahaa is a beautiful little island well worth a visit. The craggy peaks combined with the lush vegetation make it another striking south pacific slice of paradise. There is a vanilla plantation on the other side of the island that offers tours, but we opted to keep moving and not pay a visit. Maybe next time.
Saturday, August 13, 2005
Journal Entry – August 13, 2005 – One Of Those Days…
Author: Scott
We should have just stayed in bed. As the day wore on, this became my mantra for the day. Some days are absolutely superb, like the day we swam with the sharks and rays. Then some days start out badly and just keep getting worse, and today was one of those days.
We woke up with lots to do as we were leaving Huahine and heading over to Tahaa. Tahaa is a bonus because we had decided to mark it off our list because it was inside a barrier reef that it shared with Raiatea and our first instinct was to just sail around the reef to Bora Bora, but with some input from Mico Verde and a little chart work we decided the pass into the reef was safe for us. The pass lies directly between two motus (small islands) making a very clear channel for us to enter the barrier reef.
We should have taken the hint when we looked over the side of Tournesol and saw the lagoon percolating with angry wavelets and the winds were starting to howl, and maybe we should have more closely considered the unpredictable state of our dinghy engine, but we threw caution to the wind (quite literally) and jumped in the dinghy with our backpack and camera to get a few final pictures of Huahine and to make one last stop at the grocery store in town, though neither of these missions was a high priority.
The grocery store visit was routine, but we did manage to find canned beets and black olives, fixings as good as gold to doctor up a salad (in my opinion). We got our intended photos, mostly of completely useless things like the grocery store and internet café. Back at the town dock we jumped in the dinghy and guess what, I bet you guessed it, the ------ engine would not start - BIG SURPRISE. After many pulls of the starter cord, much tender stroking and cooing, and a few pointed obscenities, the creature came to life, but with only about half the normal power of its already humble four horsepower. If the engine wanted to take it easy today, that was good enough for us, and we headed back to Tournesol. While we were shopping the wind had continued to build and the fetch in the lagoon continued to increase and it soon became obvious we were in for a very wet ride back to the boat. We kept our heads held high as the dingy filled with water as we putted agonizingly slowly across the lagoon, with bottles and jars sneaking out of their grocery bags for a refreshing morning swim in the tub. Every few seconds a wave would come rolling over the bow of the dink and into our laps filling our traveling baby pool even more. When we finally inched up to Tournesol the dinghy must have been over half full of salt water. While Pam tied our painter line to the boat, I happened to glance down and noticed our bright yellow camera case floating in the dinghy like debris from a vessel lost at sea. No worries because we keep our camera in a watertight, waterproof, expensive, and reliable Pelican case. We heaved our waterlogged groceries aboard and looked around in disgust to see what could be salvaged from our soggy purchases. One of Pam’s prized boxes of angel hair pasta was transformed into tangles of slippery slimy worms. Just then I piped up with my relief that our new camera was so well protected in the Pelican case, and opened it to show off the fully functional and preserved gadget, but to my horror the foam on the inside of the case was suspiciously damp. “No problem”, I said to myself, “it is only a little damp”. I tentatively tried to power on our new baby and it lay cold and quiet in my hands, there was no little electronic tune and the whir of the camera coming alive and focusing, just a dead camera carcass staring back at me. “Oh no”, I moaned, “it can’t be damaged; it was in a Pelican case”. Both Pam and I stood there among the wreckage of our groceries, in shock, holding the lifeless body of our camera and looking down at it like it was the shattered body of a baby bird that had dropped out of the sky. Maybe we can… Well there were lots of maybe attempts that morning and they all led to one conclusion, the death of our new and beloved camera.
We finally managed to get things stowed and we headed out from Huahine at 1130. The passage over to Tahaa was only 18 miles, but we had rough conditions under a cloudy sky the entire trip. We managed to make 5.5 knots with only a partially furled headsail flying, and the turbulent conditions did nothing to lift our sour mood. When we came to the pass, I took up my station on the bow of the boat to issue steering commands back to Pam over the walkie-talkie. Normally I have a lot of gear to help with this task, and today I was holding a walkie-talkie, monocular, VHF radio, and GPS. As our bad luck would have it, no sooner had I stepped up to the bow when a renegade jib sheet smacked my left hand, giving me a perfect view of our bright yellow GPS sailing six feet in the air, with the battery compartment door and batteries dramatically exploding away from the mother ship, then all of the debris plummeting downward for their eventual splash down. Now we could add the demise of our GPS to our earlier camera loss.
The entry through the reef, with swirling surf on either side and the lush motus, would normally have been a stunning scene but all I could think of was the second loss of the day. Once through the pass we sailed into the bay and were given radio instructions from our friends on Mico Verde to find the mooring balls in front of the Hibiscus Restaurant. This would be our first experience catching a mooring ball together since we practiced this skill in class, and the exercise went smoothly, only requiring two attempts, not bad for a blustery day. We had officially arrived the island of Tahaa at 1630.
We quickly got settled, both a little shell shocked from the grueling trip and loss of our camera and GPS. We invited Warren and Stephanie over for a refreshment and recounted our journey and losses to them, an experience that all sailors can relate to. Later we all met for dinner at the restaurant. The Hibiscus Restaurant is well known in the islands for their role as a turtle sanctuary. The owner takes in injured turtles from fishermen and revives them to later be released in the sea. On our way into the restaurant we had a look at the turtle pens and saw a few of the gentle creatures paddling around in the clear water. Dinner was a set menu of fresh caparccio, grilled parrot fish with fresh vegetables (our first lagoon fish served whole) and a choice of delectable desserts (I had the vanilla Creme Brule). While we enjoyed our dinner we all marveled at how expertly Pam picked every morsel of meat from her fish body, leaving only the bare frame intact. It reminded me of my childhood, watching a cartoon cat hold a fish by the tail, dip it into his mouth and pull out the spotless white skeleton. Pam is undoubtedly the most talented and refined Maine blooded seafood machine that I have ever seen. During dinner we were also asked to sign the log of all visiting yachts, and we had good fun looking back on other cruisers entries from past years. The dinner helped rebuild our attitudes, making it easier to survive one of our toughest days out cruising.
We should have just stayed in bed. As the day wore on, this became my mantra for the day. Some days are absolutely superb, like the day we swam with the sharks and rays. Then some days start out badly and just keep getting worse, and today was one of those days.
We woke up with lots to do as we were leaving Huahine and heading over to Tahaa. Tahaa is a bonus because we had decided to mark it off our list because it was inside a barrier reef that it shared with Raiatea and our first instinct was to just sail around the reef to Bora Bora, but with some input from Mico Verde and a little chart work we decided the pass into the reef was safe for us. The pass lies directly between two motus (small islands) making a very clear channel for us to enter the barrier reef.
We should have taken the hint when we looked over the side of Tournesol and saw the lagoon percolating with angry wavelets and the winds were starting to howl, and maybe we should have more closely considered the unpredictable state of our dinghy engine, but we threw caution to the wind (quite literally) and jumped in the dinghy with our backpack and camera to get a few final pictures of Huahine and to make one last stop at the grocery store in town, though neither of these missions was a high priority.
The grocery store visit was routine, but we did manage to find canned beets and black olives, fixings as good as gold to doctor up a salad (in my opinion). We got our intended photos, mostly of completely useless things like the grocery store and internet café. Back at the town dock we jumped in the dinghy and guess what, I bet you guessed it, the ------ engine would not start - BIG SURPRISE. After many pulls of the starter cord, much tender stroking and cooing, and a few pointed obscenities, the creature came to life, but with only about half the normal power of its already humble four horsepower. If the engine wanted to take it easy today, that was good enough for us, and we headed back to Tournesol. While we were shopping the wind had continued to build and the fetch in the lagoon continued to increase and it soon became obvious we were in for a very wet ride back to the boat. We kept our heads held high as the dingy filled with water as we putted agonizingly slowly across the lagoon, with bottles and jars sneaking out of their grocery bags for a refreshing morning swim in the tub. Every few seconds a wave would come rolling over the bow of the dink and into our laps filling our traveling baby pool even more. When we finally inched up to Tournesol the dinghy must have been over half full of salt water. While Pam tied our painter line to the boat, I happened to glance down and noticed our bright yellow camera case floating in the dinghy like debris from a vessel lost at sea. No worries because we keep our camera in a watertight, waterproof, expensive, and reliable Pelican case. We heaved our waterlogged groceries aboard and looked around in disgust to see what could be salvaged from our soggy purchases. One of Pam’s prized boxes of angel hair pasta was transformed into tangles of slippery slimy worms. Just then I piped up with my relief that our new camera was so well protected in the Pelican case, and opened it to show off the fully functional and preserved gadget, but to my horror the foam on the inside of the case was suspiciously damp. “No problem”, I said to myself, “it is only a little damp”. I tentatively tried to power on our new baby and it lay cold and quiet in my hands, there was no little electronic tune and the whir of the camera coming alive and focusing, just a dead camera carcass staring back at me. “Oh no”, I moaned, “it can’t be damaged; it was in a Pelican case”. Both Pam and I stood there among the wreckage of our groceries, in shock, holding the lifeless body of our camera and looking down at it like it was the shattered body of a baby bird that had dropped out of the sky. Maybe we can… Well there were lots of maybe attempts that morning and they all led to one conclusion, the death of our new and beloved camera.
We finally managed to get things stowed and we headed out from Huahine at 1130. The passage over to Tahaa was only 18 miles, but we had rough conditions under a cloudy sky the entire trip. We managed to make 5.5 knots with only a partially furled headsail flying, and the turbulent conditions did nothing to lift our sour mood. When we came to the pass, I took up my station on the bow of the boat to issue steering commands back to Pam over the walkie-talkie. Normally I have a lot of gear to help with this task, and today I was holding a walkie-talkie, monocular, VHF radio, and GPS. As our bad luck would have it, no sooner had I stepped up to the bow when a renegade jib sheet smacked my left hand, giving me a perfect view of our bright yellow GPS sailing six feet in the air, with the battery compartment door and batteries dramatically exploding away from the mother ship, then all of the debris plummeting downward for their eventual splash down. Now we could add the demise of our GPS to our earlier camera loss.
The entry through the reef, with swirling surf on either side and the lush motus, would normally have been a stunning scene but all I could think of was the second loss of the day. Once through the pass we sailed into the bay and were given radio instructions from our friends on Mico Verde to find the mooring balls in front of the Hibiscus Restaurant. This would be our first experience catching a mooring ball together since we practiced this skill in class, and the exercise went smoothly, only requiring two attempts, not bad for a blustery day. We had officially arrived the island of Tahaa at 1630.
We quickly got settled, both a little shell shocked from the grueling trip and loss of our camera and GPS. We invited Warren and Stephanie over for a refreshment and recounted our journey and losses to them, an experience that all sailors can relate to. Later we all met for dinner at the restaurant. The Hibiscus Restaurant is well known in the islands for their role as a turtle sanctuary. The owner takes in injured turtles from fishermen and revives them to later be released in the sea. On our way into the restaurant we had a look at the turtle pens and saw a few of the gentle creatures paddling around in the clear water. Dinner was a set menu of fresh caparccio, grilled parrot fish with fresh vegetables (our first lagoon fish served whole) and a choice of delectable desserts (I had the vanilla Creme Brule). While we enjoyed our dinner we all marveled at how expertly Pam picked every morsel of meat from her fish body, leaving only the bare frame intact. It reminded me of my childhood, watching a cartoon cat hold a fish by the tail, dip it into his mouth and pull out the spotless white skeleton. Pam is undoubtedly the most talented and refined Maine blooded seafood machine that I have ever seen. During dinner we were also asked to sign the log of all visiting yachts, and we had good fun looking back on other cruisers entries from past years. The dinner helped rebuild our attitudes, making it easier to survive one of our toughest days out cruising.
Friday, August 12, 2005
Journal Entry August 9 - 12, 2005 R&R on Huahine (hoo-ah-heen-ay)
Author: Pam
First of all when you are trying to pronounce the places we are visiting, keep the following in mind. You pronounce each vowel and boy are there a lot sometimes in one word. A is ah, E is ay, I is ee, O is o, U is oo, well at least this is close. Before we left Mexico we heard the names of many of the places we would soon visit and they went flying over the top of our head. I have found out I might as well wait until I am going there to try to attempt pronouncing something with fourteen vowels.
Huahine is the place visited so far that gets the prize for seeing the least square miles. Between the weather, the dinghy engine, boat chores and perhaps laziness we did not venture past the main street through the very small town. There is a decent sized and stocked grocery store, so we were able to get a few provisions. We are becoming more and more uncertain about our food options between here and New Zealand. Without another trip to the store we could make it to NZ on what we have on board, but we will be bored by the time we get there.
The outboard engine continued to give us trouble during our entire stay. The positive side is Scott now knows how to perform surgery on all of the internal parts of the engine, including taking apart and of course putting back together the carborator. It looks like this diagnosis is proving to be true. Klaus from Wanderlust spent at least an hour helping Scott trouble shout the beast on Tuesday. He was very determined to help us get it going so we could all meet up at the Snack Bar later. We were looking forward to getting to know him and his wife Florence, they are on their way home to France. As irony would have it, they did not make it into shore later that day, their outboard died on their way in. Hopefully our outboard ailment isn’t contagious. On their way out of the lagoon the next day they drove right up beside Tournesol (a maneuver we would never attempt) to give us their contact info, hopefully we will see them again along the way.
Tuesday afternoon Scott was swimming and giving the tarp we had used for the anchor a bath when the couple from a boat anchored nearby swam over to say hello. Unbeknownst to us there was a green and white 32’ Westsail anchored just a few feet away, also from the US. Stephanie, Warren and Scott treaded water like seals while I sat on the side of the boat and we began what was clearly the beginning of a new friendship. There was a nice connection almost immediately, which I would attribute to our closeness in age. We don’t meet a lot of people close to our age, most everyone is older. We are looking forward to getting to know Mico Verde (little monkey), we have very similar itineraries for the near future so crossing paths or even making a passage together is likely. We hung out with Stephanie, Warren and Jack from Fleetwood on Tuesday evening. Incidentally Jack is single handing from Los Angeles to Vietnam.
Thursday we seemed to be wearing our meet the local’s magnet. In the morning we jumped in the dinghy and headed in what we thought was the general direction of a water tap on shore that Warren had told us about. I remembered it was supposed to be near canoes, Scott remembered it was supposed to be near fishing boats. Hmmmm, it didn’t help that we didn’t even remember the same bits of information. When we got close to shore we actually came across canoes on racks and a fishing boat in close proximity, well this seemed promising. We crawled up on shore and began to walk along the shoreline looking for a water tap. It became clear fairly quickly we might as well be looking for a needle in haystack. We walked back and forth along a stretch of beach front that felt promising, but produced nothing. I don’t even know how many times we each walked in both directions, but I can only imagine how it must have looked to an onlooker and sure enough there was at least one. After I am not sure how long we had been there a young woman approached me and I assumed was asking me in French what we were looking for. Ugh, I don’t even know the word for water in French or Tahitian, so I resorted to my usual attempt at charades. I only got a blank stare until we brought the two jerry cans out of the dinghy. The light went on and she motioned for Scott to move the dinghy to the boat landing and for me to follow her. The next thing I knew we were in her yard and she was filling the jerry cans with her hose. She motioned it was ok to drink and told me the word for water in Tahitian is oh (spelling). Who would think getting ten gallons of water could turn into such an adventure. We would have liked to get more water, but we will wait for the next convenient and perhaps more obvious opportunity.
We went to shore for dinner at the Snack Bar and just as we were thinking about leaving the two guys who were performing local music struck up a conversation. One of them spoke quite good English and clearly liked the opportunity to practice. The other guy was expressive and passionate about “his” island and insisted on sharing his French fries with Scott (who had just eaten a pile of his own), both are natives. Before we knew it we were surrounded by friends of theirs and were filled with stories of the past. One of the musicians worked for the vanilla plantation and said he wanted to bring me some vanilla the next day. We said we would come by to say hello. We got back to the dinghy, holding our breath Scott gave the now infamous pull, nothing. He turned on his charm, but to no avail. The beast barely even coughed. There was a young local girl sitting on the dock talking on her cell phone when we got in the dinghy. When it wouldn’t start after the umpteenth try, she leaned over and asked if we needed help and the next thing we knew she called to one of her friends nearby. In a matter of minutes our dinghy woes turned into the evening entertainment for the teenage population of Huahine, it was like they were multiplying. Every time I looked up on the dock there were more kids laying on their stomachs, leaning over the edge of the dock and staring down at us. The next thing we knew their was a teenage boy and a boy of maybe ten in the dinghy with us, the ten year old was pulling on the starter cord with all of his might. It was quite the scene. Finally Scott said lets move away from the dock and see what I can do. I didn’t exactly hear it that way, I thought he was suggesting we row back to the boat, which was fine with me. We said goodbye to our support team and began rowing. Once we were a few feet from the dock Scott wanted to stop. With the current that was pushing us into the pass and the fishing boat that I was aware was preparing to leave I found I was not comfortable sitting out there while he continued to troubleshoot. After some frustration with one another we ended up paddling all the way back to the boat. Fortunately it wasn’t windy and I like the exercise. Scott was less than amused, even with all of his cleaning, blowing and sucking on hoses, dissecting the innards it looks like the outboard is going to be the bane of our existence until we get to New Zealand. Ugh.
The weather was beautiful when we first arrived, the boat hardly moved at anchor. Late Thursday night the wind picked up and by Friday it was blowing a hoolie as our friends on Novia would say. It rained off and on all day. We stayed on the boat all day on Friday, in case the anchor dragged and of course Scott spent more time performing voo doo on the outboard. We did chance it and go to shore Friday evening since we said we would come by for the vanilla. True to his word I was presented with fresh vanilla pods and the lei he was wearing. I have to admit I assumed it was going to be of the bottled variety, but come to find out the pods are far more precious than the already processed potion. I now have in my possession at least $25.00 worth of vanilla pods. I am hoping to get Rachel’s recipe for vanilla sauce, it is apparently to die for. As we were leaving a couple from Australia said hello and invited us to join them. Why not. We sat down and watched the Snack Bar turn into the Friday night dance party. Scott’s dance partner was a local woman of probably seventy years old and boy could she shake her boody. After he danced with her once, she was his new best friend and kept his name on her dance card. My dance partner wasn’t a day over sixty, he was from Tahiti and was visiting his daughter. The couple we were chatting with had house swapped with a family and were leaving on Sunday after chillin in Huahine for three weeks. Hopefully we will see Robbie and Don again in Australia, they were a hoot.
The people who live on Huahine are very proud and friendly. It was easy to fall into the relaxed pace and environment and before we knew it five days have gone by.
First of all when you are trying to pronounce the places we are visiting, keep the following in mind. You pronounce each vowel and boy are there a lot sometimes in one word. A is ah, E is ay, I is ee, O is o, U is oo, well at least this is close. Before we left Mexico we heard the names of many of the places we would soon visit and they went flying over the top of our head. I have found out I might as well wait until I am going there to try to attempt pronouncing something with fourteen vowels.
Huahine is the place visited so far that gets the prize for seeing the least square miles. Between the weather, the dinghy engine, boat chores and perhaps laziness we did not venture past the main street through the very small town. There is a decent sized and stocked grocery store, so we were able to get a few provisions. We are becoming more and more uncertain about our food options between here and New Zealand. Without another trip to the store we could make it to NZ on what we have on board, but we will be bored by the time we get there.
The outboard engine continued to give us trouble during our entire stay. The positive side is Scott now knows how to perform surgery on all of the internal parts of the engine, including taking apart and of course putting back together the carborator. It looks like this diagnosis is proving to be true. Klaus from Wanderlust spent at least an hour helping Scott trouble shout the beast on Tuesday. He was very determined to help us get it going so we could all meet up at the Snack Bar later. We were looking forward to getting to know him and his wife Florence, they are on their way home to France. As irony would have it, they did not make it into shore later that day, their outboard died on their way in. Hopefully our outboard ailment isn’t contagious. On their way out of the lagoon the next day they drove right up beside Tournesol (a maneuver we would never attempt) to give us their contact info, hopefully we will see them again along the way.
Tuesday afternoon Scott was swimming and giving the tarp we had used for the anchor a bath when the couple from a boat anchored nearby swam over to say hello. Unbeknownst to us there was a green and white 32’ Westsail anchored just a few feet away, also from the US. Stephanie, Warren and Scott treaded water like seals while I sat on the side of the boat and we began what was clearly the beginning of a new friendship. There was a nice connection almost immediately, which I would attribute to our closeness in age. We don’t meet a lot of people close to our age, most everyone is older. We are looking forward to getting to know Mico Verde (little monkey), we have very similar itineraries for the near future so crossing paths or even making a passage together is likely. We hung out with Stephanie, Warren and Jack from Fleetwood on Tuesday evening. Incidentally Jack is single handing from Los Angeles to Vietnam.
Thursday we seemed to be wearing our meet the local’s magnet. In the morning we jumped in the dinghy and headed in what we thought was the general direction of a water tap on shore that Warren had told us about. I remembered it was supposed to be near canoes, Scott remembered it was supposed to be near fishing boats. Hmmmm, it didn’t help that we didn’t even remember the same bits of information. When we got close to shore we actually came across canoes on racks and a fishing boat in close proximity, well this seemed promising. We crawled up on shore and began to walk along the shoreline looking for a water tap. It became clear fairly quickly we might as well be looking for a needle in haystack. We walked back and forth along a stretch of beach front that felt promising, but produced nothing. I don’t even know how many times we each walked in both directions, but I can only imagine how it must have looked to an onlooker and sure enough there was at least one. After I am not sure how long we had been there a young woman approached me and I assumed was asking me in French what we were looking for. Ugh, I don’t even know the word for water in French or Tahitian, so I resorted to my usual attempt at charades. I only got a blank stare until we brought the two jerry cans out of the dinghy. The light went on and she motioned for Scott to move the dinghy to the boat landing and for me to follow her. The next thing I knew we were in her yard and she was filling the jerry cans with her hose. She motioned it was ok to drink and told me the word for water in Tahitian is oh (spelling). Who would think getting ten gallons of water could turn into such an adventure. We would have liked to get more water, but we will wait for the next convenient and perhaps more obvious opportunity.
We went to shore for dinner at the Snack Bar and just as we were thinking about leaving the two guys who were performing local music struck up a conversation. One of them spoke quite good English and clearly liked the opportunity to practice. The other guy was expressive and passionate about “his” island and insisted on sharing his French fries with Scott (who had just eaten a pile of his own), both are natives. Before we knew it we were surrounded by friends of theirs and were filled with stories of the past. One of the musicians worked for the vanilla plantation and said he wanted to bring me some vanilla the next day. We said we would come by to say hello. We got back to the dinghy, holding our breath Scott gave the now infamous pull, nothing. He turned on his charm, but to no avail. The beast barely even coughed. There was a young local girl sitting on the dock talking on her cell phone when we got in the dinghy. When it wouldn’t start after the umpteenth try, she leaned over and asked if we needed help and the next thing we knew she called to one of her friends nearby. In a matter of minutes our dinghy woes turned into the evening entertainment for the teenage population of Huahine, it was like they were multiplying. Every time I looked up on the dock there were more kids laying on their stomachs, leaning over the edge of the dock and staring down at us. The next thing we knew their was a teenage boy and a boy of maybe ten in the dinghy with us, the ten year old was pulling on the starter cord with all of his might. It was quite the scene. Finally Scott said lets move away from the dock and see what I can do. I didn’t exactly hear it that way, I thought he was suggesting we row back to the boat, which was fine with me. We said goodbye to our support team and began rowing. Once we were a few feet from the dock Scott wanted to stop. With the current that was pushing us into the pass and the fishing boat that I was aware was preparing to leave I found I was not comfortable sitting out there while he continued to troubleshoot. After some frustration with one another we ended up paddling all the way back to the boat. Fortunately it wasn’t windy and I like the exercise. Scott was less than amused, even with all of his cleaning, blowing and sucking on hoses, dissecting the innards it looks like the outboard is going to be the bane of our existence until we get to New Zealand. Ugh.
The weather was beautiful when we first arrived, the boat hardly moved at anchor. Late Thursday night the wind picked up and by Friday it was blowing a hoolie as our friends on Novia would say. It rained off and on all day. We stayed on the boat all day on Friday, in case the anchor dragged and of course Scott spent more time performing voo doo on the outboard. We did chance it and go to shore Friday evening since we said we would come by for the vanilla. True to his word I was presented with fresh vanilla pods and the lei he was wearing. I have to admit I assumed it was going to be of the bottled variety, but come to find out the pods are far more precious than the already processed potion. I now have in my possession at least $25.00 worth of vanilla pods. I am hoping to get Rachel’s recipe for vanilla sauce, it is apparently to die for. As we were leaving a couple from Australia said hello and invited us to join them. Why not. We sat down and watched the Snack Bar turn into the Friday night dance party. Scott’s dance partner was a local woman of probably seventy years old and boy could she shake her boody. After he danced with her once, she was his new best friend and kept his name on her dance card. My dance partner wasn’t a day over sixty, he was from Tahiti and was visiting his daughter. The couple we were chatting with had house swapped with a family and were leaving on Sunday after chillin in Huahine for three weeks. Hopefully we will see Robbie and Don again in Australia, they were a hoot.
The people who live on Huahine are very proud and friendly. It was easy to fall into the relaxed pace and environment and before we knew it five days have gone by.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
Journal Entry – August 9, 2005 - Update Message, Out of Order
Author: Scott and Pam
This is just a quick update on our current location and situation. As I write this message we are about 30 miles from Huahine Island, and about 50 miles from Moorea Island and our last anchorage. It is 0430 and we are sailing under full main and 80% jib at 5 knots. We were FINALLY able to leave Tahiti on July 26! We were not able to properly repair our internal water pump problem, but we believe we have a work around that will suffice until we reach New Zealand. We do have a functional engine and the ability to recharge our batteries with the alternator. We are making great progress on turning our journal notes into journal postings, now that we are able to focus on other things besides the engine, and we should be current with the journal soon. We have had some very exciting things happen in the last few weeks including: extensive media coverage in Tahiti, an opportunity to spend time with the local association for the blind, and swimming with manta rays. If we are able to access an affordable and adequate Internet connection in Huahine, we will be posting a number of new photos and a few videos to the website. Thanks for following our adventure!
Cheers,
Scott and Pam
This is just a quick update on our current location and situation. As I write this message we are about 30 miles from Huahine Island, and about 50 miles from Moorea Island and our last anchorage. It is 0430 and we are sailing under full main and 80% jib at 5 knots. We were FINALLY able to leave Tahiti on July 26! We were not able to properly repair our internal water pump problem, but we believe we have a work around that will suffice until we reach New Zealand. We do have a functional engine and the ability to recharge our batteries with the alternator. We are making great progress on turning our journal notes into journal postings, now that we are able to focus on other things besides the engine, and we should be current with the journal soon. We have had some very exciting things happen in the last few weeks including: extensive media coverage in Tahiti, an opportunity to spend time with the local association for the blind, and swimming with manta rays. If we are able to access an affordable and adequate Internet connection in Huahine, we will be posting a number of new photos and a few videos to the website. Thanks for following our adventure!
Cheers,
Scott and Pam
Monday, August 08, 2005
Journal Entry – August 8, 2005 – Cheeseburger in Paradise
Author: Scott
This morning we were both a little groggy from lack of sleep. We both struggle with sleep on the first night of a passage after time at anchor. We can not complain about the wind. We sailed at 4 to 5 knots with a single reef in the main and 80% jib until we reached Huahine. I spent the day a little nervous because for some reason I remember the puddle jumpers in Mexico talking about sailing through passes and for some reason Huahine’s passes stuck out in my mind. There are two passes into the lagoon at Fare Village, the main southern pass and the northern pass. After examining our cruising guides and speaking with Starship on the radio, we decided to opt for the less traveled northern pass. When I visualized passes through reefs when I was back in Mexico, I pictured giant walls of coral with small clefts chiseled through to make a skinny opening, making transiting a pass like entering a walled city. What I have come to learn is that most passes are very unimpressive and yet still very threatening, with very low lying coral, often only visible by the presence of breaking waves. The reality of these passes is no doubt less ominous, but from a visually impaired person’s perspective they are far more menacing because they are less visually daunting. I would gladly take a fifty foot high wall of coral to thread my way past rather than the sneaky hidden reefs, lurking ready to tear the keel off Tournesol. Today’s trip into the Huahine lagoon turned out to be a little nail biting but fairly straightforward. On the land there were two white leading markers that I could see with a telescope from the bow. We also had assistance from Starship, Frank and Rachel met us in their dinghy as we entered the lagoon and led us over to where many of the boats were anchored.
I know we have expounded on the clear and beautiful water of the South Pacific quite a bit, but it seems to me as we travel to each new island we find water even more pristine than the last place, overtaking the rank of the most incredible water we have ever seen. Huahine is no exception, as we entered the lagoon there was a stark difference between the deep blue of the channel and the baby blue water of the lagoon. As we approached the lagoon we could see all of the cruising boats hovering with their anchors biting into the fringe of the lagoon, while the boats floated over the shallow blue water. I yelled to Frank and asked if it was too shallow to anchor and he said that it was shallow but would be fine, there is only a six inch tidal difference in the lagoon, so if we find an acceptable spot with a few feet to spare under the keel, we are home free. Our first attempt at anchoring left us with only about eight inches between the boat and the sandy bottom, so we gave it a second attempt and settled in eight feet of water, leaving two feet eight inches to spare. Plenty of room! Tournesol is now anchored in the shallowest water she has experienced since I have owned her.
As soon as the hook was down I took my usual plunge to check the anchor and marvel at the unbelievable water. I took a swim around the entire radius of our anchor looking for coral heads that could potentially injure Tournesol if we were to swing into them, but we were free and clear. Our next order of business was to clean up the boat and get settled so we would not be late for a very important event, HAPPY HOUR! Long before we actually got to Huahine, we had heard from other cruisers that Huahine has one of the best bars in the South Pacific and libations are half price between five and six each evening, this is huge in the land of six dollar beer.
Settled into Huahine, we jumped in the dinghy and zoomed over to the “Snack Bar” the famous happy hour spot. We were soon joined by Frank and Rachel from Starship. No sooner had we got down to some serious yarn spinning when a guy walks up to us and tells us that he is celebrating because he just got out of the hospital. Now we don’t have a clue who this guy is and Frank and Rachel are showing only vague recollection but we go with it and listen to his story. Apparently our new friend was hit while on a motorcycle by a car passing too close and got smacked upside the head with the passing cars side rearview mirror. He ended up staggering to the hospital, where he spent the night, and now he was back at the bar to anesthetize his injuries. The whole story sounded like a Jimmy Buffet song. Speaking of Jimmy, we also were told that this very bar was the place where JB wrote “That One Particular Harbor”. Now, I do take stores like this with a grain of salt, since I think I have eaten in at least three bars that are the home of the song “Cheeseburger in Paradise”. Speaking of cheeseburgers, guess what the “Snack Bar” specializes in? You probably guessed it, cheeseburgers, and not just any cheeseburger, but the best cheeseburger we have eaten in French Polynesia and it is only $6.00. What a place! We sat there with our toes in the sand, chowing down on cheeseburgers and perfect fries, savoring the Hinano, and watching the sun set over the “that one particular harbor”.
As we sat there enjoying the South Pacific evening we were introduced to another local character, one of Huahine’s founding mothers (so we were told). She had heard our tale, because she was definitely in the know. I got the feeling nothing happened in French Polynesia without our new friend having the skinny. We were given hugs of welcome and then she flitted off wearing her giant hat and sheik outfit.
When the time came to make our way home, we headed to the dock with Rachel and Frank. You have to remember that we had no problem with the dinghy on our inbound trip and absolutely flawless results with the beast in Moorea, but just when we were feeling a little confidence in the wicked weasel, no go Joe. We pulled and pulled and all we got was a tired arm. Eventually we gave in and Starship gave us a tow back to the boat. We went to bed happy for making another landfall but apprehensive of the newest dinghy dilemma.
This morning we were both a little groggy from lack of sleep. We both struggle with sleep on the first night of a passage after time at anchor. We can not complain about the wind. We sailed at 4 to 5 knots with a single reef in the main and 80% jib until we reached Huahine. I spent the day a little nervous because for some reason I remember the puddle jumpers in Mexico talking about sailing through passes and for some reason Huahine’s passes stuck out in my mind. There are two passes into the lagoon at Fare Village, the main southern pass and the northern pass. After examining our cruising guides and speaking with Starship on the radio, we decided to opt for the less traveled northern pass. When I visualized passes through reefs when I was back in Mexico, I pictured giant walls of coral with small clefts chiseled through to make a skinny opening, making transiting a pass like entering a walled city. What I have come to learn is that most passes are very unimpressive and yet still very threatening, with very low lying coral, often only visible by the presence of breaking waves. The reality of these passes is no doubt less ominous, but from a visually impaired person’s perspective they are far more menacing because they are less visually daunting. I would gladly take a fifty foot high wall of coral to thread my way past rather than the sneaky hidden reefs, lurking ready to tear the keel off Tournesol. Today’s trip into the Huahine lagoon turned out to be a little nail biting but fairly straightforward. On the land there were two white leading markers that I could see with a telescope from the bow. We also had assistance from Starship, Frank and Rachel met us in their dinghy as we entered the lagoon and led us over to where many of the boats were anchored.
I know we have expounded on the clear and beautiful water of the South Pacific quite a bit, but it seems to me as we travel to each new island we find water even more pristine than the last place, overtaking the rank of the most incredible water we have ever seen. Huahine is no exception, as we entered the lagoon there was a stark difference between the deep blue of the channel and the baby blue water of the lagoon. As we approached the lagoon we could see all of the cruising boats hovering with their anchors biting into the fringe of the lagoon, while the boats floated over the shallow blue water. I yelled to Frank and asked if it was too shallow to anchor and he said that it was shallow but would be fine, there is only a six inch tidal difference in the lagoon, so if we find an acceptable spot with a few feet to spare under the keel, we are home free. Our first attempt at anchoring left us with only about eight inches between the boat and the sandy bottom, so we gave it a second attempt and settled in eight feet of water, leaving two feet eight inches to spare. Plenty of room! Tournesol is now anchored in the shallowest water she has experienced since I have owned her.
As soon as the hook was down I took my usual plunge to check the anchor and marvel at the unbelievable water. I took a swim around the entire radius of our anchor looking for coral heads that could potentially injure Tournesol if we were to swing into them, but we were free and clear. Our next order of business was to clean up the boat and get settled so we would not be late for a very important event, HAPPY HOUR! Long before we actually got to Huahine, we had heard from other cruisers that Huahine has one of the best bars in the South Pacific and libations are half price between five and six each evening, this is huge in the land of six dollar beer.
Settled into Huahine, we jumped in the dinghy and zoomed over to the “Snack Bar” the famous happy hour spot. We were soon joined by Frank and Rachel from Starship. No sooner had we got down to some serious yarn spinning when a guy walks up to us and tells us that he is celebrating because he just got out of the hospital. Now we don’t have a clue who this guy is and Frank and Rachel are showing only vague recollection but we go with it and listen to his story. Apparently our new friend was hit while on a motorcycle by a car passing too close and got smacked upside the head with the passing cars side rearview mirror. He ended up staggering to the hospital, where he spent the night, and now he was back at the bar to anesthetize his injuries. The whole story sounded like a Jimmy Buffet song. Speaking of Jimmy, we also were told that this very bar was the place where JB wrote “That One Particular Harbor”. Now, I do take stores like this with a grain of salt, since I think I have eaten in at least three bars that are the home of the song “Cheeseburger in Paradise”. Speaking of cheeseburgers, guess what the “Snack Bar” specializes in? You probably guessed it, cheeseburgers, and not just any cheeseburger, but the best cheeseburger we have eaten in French Polynesia and it is only $6.00. What a place! We sat there with our toes in the sand, chowing down on cheeseburgers and perfect fries, savoring the Hinano, and watching the sun set over the “that one particular harbor”.
As we sat there enjoying the South Pacific evening we were introduced to another local character, one of Huahine’s founding mothers (so we were told). She had heard our tale, because she was definitely in the know. I got the feeling nothing happened in French Polynesia without our new friend having the skinny. We were given hugs of welcome and then she flitted off wearing her giant hat and sheik outfit.
When the time came to make our way home, we headed to the dock with Rachel and Frank. You have to remember that we had no problem with the dinghy on our inbound trip and absolutely flawless results with the beast in Moorea, but just when we were feeling a little confidence in the wicked weasel, no go Joe. We pulled and pulled and all we got was a tired arm. Eventually we gave in and Starship gave us a tow back to the boat. We went to bed happy for making another landfall but apprehensive of the newest dinghy dilemma.
Sunday, August 07, 2005
Journal Entry August 6th & 7th, 2005 Moving on from Moorea
Author: Pam
We thought we might stay five days when we first arrived in Moorea, it has now been twelve and it is time to continue moving through the Society Islands. It has been nice to experience another side of the island. It is amazing how different this bay is from Cooks Bay, the road is better maintained and there is more room to walk (in most places) on the shoulder, however the cars still drive like the Indie 500. There are no businesses except for the Sheraton and another Pension that we heard about, but did not actually see. There is a very small store near the beach where you land the dinghy, very reminiscent of the stores in Nuku Hiva, there really isn't anything we would want to buy, except for maybe a baguette.
After bacon and eggs for breakfast we spent the morning beginning the boat chores to prepare to leave, this is all quite routine now and usually goes smoothly unless we have an unusual project to complete before heading back to sea. We spent some time roaming around in the dinghy taking pictures of Tournesol as she sat proudly in the most beautiful water we have seen so far on this trip. It is so clear I also just wanted to take pictures looking into the water to try to capture the magnificent color. In the early afternoon we went to shore and turned right on the road to walk to the head of Oponuhu bay. It was a beautiful walk along the waterfront. When we reached the head of the bay we discovered a couple of boats anchored there as well. There is nothing, but a small beach area, like at the mouth of the bay there are no businesses. On the way back we walked by a woman and her daughter selling non other than fresh tuna at the end of their driveway, but with much dismay we had to pass up the opportunity for a tuna fix. We already had steak for dinner and not enough ice to keep it until tomorrow. I was sad, but Scott was probably relieved, he has been an excellent fish trooper.
It was still warm and beautiful when we got back to the boat. We decided to go for a swim and take a shower. We had filled up the sun shower and it had been sitting on the deck for a couple of days and was nice and warm. We hung it from a ring on the mast at a height we could stand under. In our bathing suits we stood on the bow and took the first warm shower we have had in quite awhile. It was lovely and comes out ahead of the bug shower for me. Though you are wearing your bathing suit it will still take some getting use to standing on the bow for the world to see. Not that I think anyone much cares, most everything goes when it comes to getting the life stuff accomplished. The day ended with that yummy steak dinner with rice and corn on the side, the tuna was a distant memory.
On Sunday we pulled up the hook at 1130 and headed out of the pass of Oponuhu Bay on our way to Huihine, our first overnight passage in a while (120 miles). The sail started off slow, with very little wind for the first twenty miles. We did not want to use the engine so we crawled along. Most of the other cruisers we had talked to in Moorea plan to leave around 4:30 to make landfall before dark the next day, we decided with limited use of the engine we wanted more of a margin. We were passed by two other sailboats shortly after dark, they were obviously motor sailing. The boat Promises hailed us on the VHF to say hello, they were motoring and making water. We have heard that is often the justification for motoring.
The wind picked up steadily during the night and with that came some squalls with rain. By early morning we were making good speed. Neither one of us slept well, a combination of the first night at sea, squally weather and the most boat traffic we have seen in the South Pacific.
We thought we might stay five days when we first arrived in Moorea, it has now been twelve and it is time to continue moving through the Society Islands. It has been nice to experience another side of the island. It is amazing how different this bay is from Cooks Bay, the road is better maintained and there is more room to walk (in most places) on the shoulder, however the cars still drive like the Indie 500. There are no businesses except for the Sheraton and another Pension that we heard about, but did not actually see. There is a very small store near the beach where you land the dinghy, very reminiscent of the stores in Nuku Hiva, there really isn't anything we would want to buy, except for maybe a baguette.
After bacon and eggs for breakfast we spent the morning beginning the boat chores to prepare to leave, this is all quite routine now and usually goes smoothly unless we have an unusual project to complete before heading back to sea. We spent some time roaming around in the dinghy taking pictures of Tournesol as she sat proudly in the most beautiful water we have seen so far on this trip. It is so clear I also just wanted to take pictures looking into the water to try to capture the magnificent color. In the early afternoon we went to shore and turned right on the road to walk to the head of Oponuhu bay. It was a beautiful walk along the waterfront. When we reached the head of the bay we discovered a couple of boats anchored there as well. There is nothing, but a small beach area, like at the mouth of the bay there are no businesses. On the way back we walked by a woman and her daughter selling non other than fresh tuna at the end of their driveway, but with much dismay we had to pass up the opportunity for a tuna fix. We already had steak for dinner and not enough ice to keep it until tomorrow. I was sad, but Scott was probably relieved, he has been an excellent fish trooper.
It was still warm and beautiful when we got back to the boat. We decided to go for a swim and take a shower. We had filled up the sun shower and it had been sitting on the deck for a couple of days and was nice and warm. We hung it from a ring on the mast at a height we could stand under. In our bathing suits we stood on the bow and took the first warm shower we have had in quite awhile. It was lovely and comes out ahead of the bug shower for me. Though you are wearing your bathing suit it will still take some getting use to standing on the bow for the world to see. Not that I think anyone much cares, most everything goes when it comes to getting the life stuff accomplished. The day ended with that yummy steak dinner with rice and corn on the side, the tuna was a distant memory.
On Sunday we pulled up the hook at 1130 and headed out of the pass of Oponuhu Bay on our way to Huihine, our first overnight passage in a while (120 miles). The sail started off slow, with very little wind for the first twenty miles. We did not want to use the engine so we crawled along. Most of the other cruisers we had talked to in Moorea plan to leave around 4:30 to make landfall before dark the next day, we decided with limited use of the engine we wanted more of a margin. We were passed by two other sailboats shortly after dark, they were obviously motor sailing. The boat Promises hailed us on the VHF to say hello, they were motoring and making water. We have heard that is often the justification for motoring.
The wind picked up steadily during the night and with that came some squalls with rain. By early morning we were making good speed. Neither one of us slept well, a combination of the first night at sea, squally weather and the most boat traffic we have seen in the South Pacific.
Friday, August 05, 2005
Journal Entry August 5, 2005 - Swimming with Sting Rays and Sharks
Author: Scott
Today was one of the best experiences we have had on the journey to date. We woke up with plans to go with Last Call to swim with the sting rays. We had heard a lot about the experience from other cruisers and from Trevor on Last Call, we also had the experience the other night where we got to feed them from the steps of the restaurant, but today we were going to actually get in the water and swim with the big guys. Trevor and his wife Leslie showed up in their big dinghy along with Trevor’s brother and sister in law. We looked down at the dinghy unsure if we would comfortably fit, but also knowing our dinghy was most likely not up to the challenge of driving around the island to the lagoon. Trevor said we would all fit with no problem, so we piled in, and he was right. Trevor has the biggest dingy we have ridden in yet. We all sped off towards the lagoon, motoring through incredibly clear and beautiful water. It looked like you could just reach down and touch the coral that was really twelve feet down. Trevor drove the dinghy fearlessly; not needing to slow down even when the corral looked like it was just inches below the dinghy. We could see colorful fish darting around the coral heads, and about half way to the lagoon we were all treated to an incredible sight. Just outside of the reef there was a whale jumping high into the air. Normally when something like this happens Pam and I get to watch the sighted people full of excitement relaying the details to us, because it is next to impossible to catch something like a whale doing tricks in a monocular, but as fate would have it, as I put the monocular to my eye and zeroed in the whale broke the surface right in my small field of vision. I was able to see him thrust his body out of the water almost to its tail, then fall back to the water with a huge splash. A second later I caught his tail sticking straight out of the water. I handed the monocular to Pam and she was also able to catch a glimpse of the majestic mammal. What a treat!
As we approached the lagoon the water changed colors until the dinghy was hovering over water bluer than the most pristine swimming pool. As soon as we had the dinghy anchor overboard our visitors started to arrive. The sting rays were beautiful. Imagine creatures that are in pure harmony with the water, fluid movement effortlessly gliding silently. They were splendid examples of elegance and they were right below us waiting for us to come and play with them. Their topsides were a dull gray on curving diamond shaped bodes, with long stringy tales aerodynamically following behind them. They have eyes on the top of their bodies that give you the impression they can see everything above and around them all at once. I was in the water, dawning full frog gear in seconds. This was Trevor’s fourth visit to the rays and he was as delighted as though it was his first experience ever. Trevor grabbed a plastic bag full of raw fish and started handing out snacks for the rays. Now, the rays obviously knew what we were up to, because no sooner did I put my hand under the water than a four foot ray swam up to me, lifted its body out of the water, and came down with its mouth right on top of my hand. With a quick and powerful vacuum slurp, the piece of fish in my hand was transported into the stomach of the ray. This gave me my first chance to feel the velvet soft white underside of these placid animals. We learned we did have to be cautious about where we stepped because although the rays are very calm normally, if we were to accidentally step on their long rat like tails, they would immediately whip them up and sting the backs of our legs, a pain that is supposed to be excruciating. After about ten minutes of swimming with the rays Pam abandoned the camera and tentatively joined us in the water. Pam never quite got to the feeding of the rays, but did muster up the courage to pet them while others fed. While we were feeding the rays a group of black tipped reef sharks were lurking in the deeper water just a few yards away from the dinghy. Apparently the rays manage to keep them away while they are feeding. Once I learned the sharks were harmless to humans I was off in search of my first up close and personal interaction with a shark. I was able to get within a few feet of these serious looking dudes. What a day, whales, sharks and rays at the same time! The experience is up there on my list of most incredible life experiences. After at least an hour of frolicking with sea life we all returned to the dinghy.
Trevor wanted to take us over to walk on the motus and to see the pristine water. Motus are small islands, often making up part of a barrier reef of a larger island. We had two motus in close proximity to the lagoon where we were feeding the rays. We beached the dinghy and all walked ashore and set off on an attempt to circumnavigate the motu. The trip was a little challenging at times, but we had a wonderful walk around the small island. This place was just what I always imagined it to be like if we were marooned on a tropical island, Gilligan and the Skipper would be right at home. We also had an opportunity to take some of the most striking South Pacific pictures thus far.
Our trip back in the dinghy was even faster than our trip in the morning; we were back to Tournesol in a flash. We said goodbye to Trevor and his crew, as they were going to pull up the hook and move on to Huahine. Pam and I decided we would spend the rest of the day exploring land in our new surroundings. We paddled our dinghy to shore, and actually met up with Trevor a final time, as he was also visiting land before his departure. Trevor clued us in on a place to tie our dinghy to a tree, but we opted to roll it ashore with the new dinghy wheels. On shore there was a sunbather who greeted us, we learned her name was Dot from Neliandrah, and she and her husband were soon ending a ten year circumnavigation in Australia (her husband is 76, not sure of her age). Dot gave us the skinny on the area, and we all agreed we should get together on one of our two boats.
Dot gave us directions to the Moorea Sheraton, a hotel we have heard much about, and so we set off down the road in search of the Sheraton and maybe a little lunch. Along the way we had great views of a coconut farm, and the beautiful lagoon. At the Sheraton we walked out to the beach and took a look at their famous over the water bungalows (some with glass floors) and admired the property before settling down for a beachside lunch. Lunch turned out to be less expensive for French Polynesia than I had expected. Although almost everything is exorbitant here, there seems to a smaller difference in price between mediocre food and fine food. Of course I sampled the cheeseburger and Pam had a steak sandwich. After lunch we made our way over to the hotel’s business center for a quick email update, and had to pay $10 for fifteen minutes, ouch!
The rest of the afternoon was spent on Tournesol. We went for a refreshing swim, and enjoyed a clear and lovely evening on the boat.
Today was one of the best experiences we have had on the journey to date. We woke up with plans to go with Last Call to swim with the sting rays. We had heard a lot about the experience from other cruisers and from Trevor on Last Call, we also had the experience the other night where we got to feed them from the steps of the restaurant, but today we were going to actually get in the water and swim with the big guys. Trevor and his wife Leslie showed up in their big dinghy along with Trevor’s brother and sister in law. We looked down at the dinghy unsure if we would comfortably fit, but also knowing our dinghy was most likely not up to the challenge of driving around the island to the lagoon. Trevor said we would all fit with no problem, so we piled in, and he was right. Trevor has the biggest dingy we have ridden in yet. We all sped off towards the lagoon, motoring through incredibly clear and beautiful water. It looked like you could just reach down and touch the coral that was really twelve feet down. Trevor drove the dinghy fearlessly; not needing to slow down even when the corral looked like it was just inches below the dinghy. We could see colorful fish darting around the coral heads, and about half way to the lagoon we were all treated to an incredible sight. Just outside of the reef there was a whale jumping high into the air. Normally when something like this happens Pam and I get to watch the sighted people full of excitement relaying the details to us, because it is next to impossible to catch something like a whale doing tricks in a monocular, but as fate would have it, as I put the monocular to my eye and zeroed in the whale broke the surface right in my small field of vision. I was able to see him thrust his body out of the water almost to its tail, then fall back to the water with a huge splash. A second later I caught his tail sticking straight out of the water. I handed the monocular to Pam and she was also able to catch a glimpse of the majestic mammal. What a treat!
As we approached the lagoon the water changed colors until the dinghy was hovering over water bluer than the most pristine swimming pool. As soon as we had the dinghy anchor overboard our visitors started to arrive. The sting rays were beautiful. Imagine creatures that are in pure harmony with the water, fluid movement effortlessly gliding silently. They were splendid examples of elegance and they were right below us waiting for us to come and play with them. Their topsides were a dull gray on curving diamond shaped bodes, with long stringy tales aerodynamically following behind them. They have eyes on the top of their bodies that give you the impression they can see everything above and around them all at once. I was in the water, dawning full frog gear in seconds. This was Trevor’s fourth visit to the rays and he was as delighted as though it was his first experience ever. Trevor grabbed a plastic bag full of raw fish and started handing out snacks for the rays. Now, the rays obviously knew what we were up to, because no sooner did I put my hand under the water than a four foot ray swam up to me, lifted its body out of the water, and came down with its mouth right on top of my hand. With a quick and powerful vacuum slurp, the piece of fish in my hand was transported into the stomach of the ray. This gave me my first chance to feel the velvet soft white underside of these placid animals. We learned we did have to be cautious about where we stepped because although the rays are very calm normally, if we were to accidentally step on their long rat like tails, they would immediately whip them up and sting the backs of our legs, a pain that is supposed to be excruciating. After about ten minutes of swimming with the rays Pam abandoned the camera and tentatively joined us in the water. Pam never quite got to the feeding of the rays, but did muster up the courage to pet them while others fed. While we were feeding the rays a group of black tipped reef sharks were lurking in the deeper water just a few yards away from the dinghy. Apparently the rays manage to keep them away while they are feeding. Once I learned the sharks were harmless to humans I was off in search of my first up close and personal interaction with a shark. I was able to get within a few feet of these serious looking dudes. What a day, whales, sharks and rays at the same time! The experience is up there on my list of most incredible life experiences. After at least an hour of frolicking with sea life we all returned to the dinghy.
Trevor wanted to take us over to walk on the motus and to see the pristine water. Motus are small islands, often making up part of a barrier reef of a larger island. We had two motus in close proximity to the lagoon where we were feeding the rays. We beached the dinghy and all walked ashore and set off on an attempt to circumnavigate the motu. The trip was a little challenging at times, but we had a wonderful walk around the small island. This place was just what I always imagined it to be like if we were marooned on a tropical island, Gilligan and the Skipper would be right at home. We also had an opportunity to take some of the most striking South Pacific pictures thus far.
Our trip back in the dinghy was even faster than our trip in the morning; we were back to Tournesol in a flash. We said goodbye to Trevor and his crew, as they were going to pull up the hook and move on to Huahine. Pam and I decided we would spend the rest of the day exploring land in our new surroundings. We paddled our dinghy to shore, and actually met up with Trevor a final time, as he was also visiting land before his departure. Trevor clued us in on a place to tie our dinghy to a tree, but we opted to roll it ashore with the new dinghy wheels. On shore there was a sunbather who greeted us, we learned her name was Dot from Neliandrah, and she and her husband were soon ending a ten year circumnavigation in Australia (her husband is 76, not sure of her age). Dot gave us the skinny on the area, and we all agreed we should get together on one of our two boats.
Dot gave us directions to the Moorea Sheraton, a hotel we have heard much about, and so we set off down the road in search of the Sheraton and maybe a little lunch. Along the way we had great views of a coconut farm, and the beautiful lagoon. At the Sheraton we walked out to the beach and took a look at their famous over the water bungalows (some with glass floors) and admired the property before settling down for a beachside lunch. Lunch turned out to be less expensive for French Polynesia than I had expected. Although almost everything is exorbitant here, there seems to a smaller difference in price between mediocre food and fine food. Of course I sampled the cheeseburger and Pam had a steak sandwich. After lunch we made our way over to the hotel’s business center for a quick email update, and had to pay $10 for fifteen minutes, ouch!
The rest of the afternoon was spent on Tournesol. We went for a refreshing swim, and enjoyed a clear and lovely evening on the boat.
Thursday, August 04, 2005
Journal Entry – August 2 - 4, 2005 – Unexpected Move on Moorea
Author: Scott
Tuesday August second was just one of those days where we didn’t do much worth mentioning. The highlight of the day was filling our gas can for the dinghy which has been working exceptionally well on Moorea. Otherwise, it rained off and on throughout the day and we hung like slugs on the boat.
We did manage to get out for dinner. We walked to the local pizza place with Frank and Rachel from Starship. As we sat eating our pizza all the lights went out, so the owner of the shop and other patrons illuminated the dining area with their car headlights. The power stayed out during our entire walk home with cars racing at us at full speed, thank goodness Frank brought a flashlight.
On Wednesday we set out early for the fuel dock. On the dock is a funky shower and faucet unit. Not being shy we decided to take advantage of taking a shower and doing laundry standing out on the dock for the world to see, of course we weren’t out there in our birthday suits, but close enough. When we were squeaky clean, Pam moved into laundry mode and I trotted over to the gas station to snatch up some of the pineapples that had been rumored to be delicious. You get 8 little locally grown pineapples for 500 francs, not a bad deal for expensive French Polynesia. My next task was to try to find MORE FRESH FISH for the Fish Goddess Pamela, she had not consumed any sea life for at least a day and was in desperate need, so I jumped in the dinghy and cruised over to the fish dock. On my way I heard a shout from Last Call and diverted my course to see what was up. They called me over to tell me they had read about us in Sailing Magazine and Leslie told me to come aboard so she could show me. It turns out they keep back issues of sailing magazines onboard and they had the issue of Sailing that covered our voyage late last year. Trevor also asked me to help him with a computer problem; they had lost the sound on the computer. The volume problem was a quick adjustment and I was off in search of fish again. Bad news for the Fish Goddess, no fish at the inn! It was going to be a tense moment breaking the bad news, I hoped she wouldn’t flail around in desperation and jump off the dock in a mad hunt for fish in the bay. She actually took the news better than I thought, only moaning a little. The laundry was all finished and we filled two jerry cans with water, but decided we would only use the cans for washing or showers, as the water was a little murky from the recent rains.
In the afternoon we had plans to attempt our twice thwarted hike to Belvedere lookout, but as we were preparing to leave the mountain became shrouded in rain again. It looked like the mountain gods of Moorea were dead set against us visiting the mountain. We rebounded quickly and decided to walk back to the Pineapple Plantation for a second look and taste at the gift store. The walk was lovely as we managed to stay in the sun ahead of the rain. We were treated to a rainbow as we looked back behind us, however this also meant our laundry left out to dry was now getting a second fresh water rinse.
When we reached the gift shop, there were far fewer people in the store than on our last visit. We poked around a bit and ended up at the tasting bar for a few tastes of liqueurs that we could not remember tasting in the barrage of tastes we were given on the last trip. At first our impression of the woman serving us was that she was completely indifferent to our existence. We said hello and without a word she plopped two glasses in front of us as she gave us random tastes. Everything soon changed however, as we stood there sampling our hostess must have made some deductions about our identity because she shyly asked us in a whisper if we were on a boat. We told her that we were visiting on a sailboat. A smile came to her face and she then quietly asked us if we were those people on television who were sailing around the world and couldn’t see. Again, we told her she was correct, and within a second all barriers were dropped and she started asking all sorts of questions. We learned that the Pineapple lady’s name was Tara and that she was the manager of the gift shop and had worked in the store for ten years. Tara has lived on Moorea all her life and is very proud of her home. Now we were getting information about the island and suggestions of what liqueurs to buy and lots of friendly chit chat. We eventually moved on to pay and learned they could not accept a credit card for our purchases because the machine was down due to the power outage the night before. Well, now we were in a pickle, we were almost $20 short of cash. We quickly looked at our items to find some sacrifices and we were just about to return our items to the shelf when Tara walked over and asked us how much we were short. After telling her, she tapped on the calculator for a second and magically our purchases equaled the money in our pocket thanks to Tara’s special employee discount. Our next obstacle was the weather, we looked outside and it was raining cats and dogs. Tara said she would give us a ride to the bank so we could get some more cash and then back to our boat. Our new friend was full of help and support. We waited on a wooden bench with lizards carvings and waited for the staff to close up shop and then Tara told us to follow her to her car. As we drove in the rain we chatted about the children on the island. Pam was interested because she had not seen many children. Tara told us that many of the children on Moorea stay indoors a lot, caught in the influence of television and computers. Apparently if we wanted to catch sight of the children we needed to keep a watch as they walk to and from school. Tara took us to the other side of the bay and we got a quick look at the small town and I got a much needed visit to the ATM. We were then dropped off at the grocery store near our boat and we said our goodbyes to Tara.
The mission at the store today was to make a second attempt at locating fish for the Goddess, and this time we were successful. As we paid for our fish my mind wandered back to the seal we saw perform in Nuevo Vallarta and how the shiny black guy was rewarded with fish. There must be something that could work to my advantage from this common uncontrollable craving for fish. “Pam will you do the dishes tonight, I have a fresh piece of red tuna for you, okay now balance the ball on your nose…” We finished off the day with a very fat and happy Fish Goddess.
Thursday turned out to be our last day in Cook’s Bay. We spent the morning on the boat keeping watch because the wind was up, but we emerged at noon to get a bite at the café by the dock. We had called up Starship and Last Call to see if they wanted to join us. Last Call said they would meet us over at the café. We had a quick lunch of (you probably guessed it) tuna sandwiches. Last Call showed up just as we were finishing up. Leslie asked us if we were interested in following them over to Oponuhu Bay, they knew we were nervous about the reef and said they would not mind guiding us in. We were thrilled with the offer and quickly agreed.
We immediately stepped up the pace of the day and quickly completed the necessary errands to be ready to depart in just a few short hours. We made a final trip to the grocery store, bought ice, and tried without success to use the very slow Internet café.
The trip over to Oponuhu bay was a little wild and rolly, as soon as we left the safety of the barrier reef we were quickly tossed abound by waves hitting us on the beam, it was just the kind of trip that would turn a person prone to seasickness green in seconds. Little Tournesol tried like a champ to keep up with Last Call but we were certain that they were holding back and wallowing in the waves to stay with us. The sun came out for our trip over to Oponuhu and we were treated to fantastic views of the volcanic peaks and rich valleys of Moorea, again we were transported to a fairytale land with splendid mountainscapes and the sun setting on the deep blue ocean. It turns out that the channel into Oponuhu bay was very clearly marked and easy to navigate. We headed over to the mouth of the bay where a number of yachts were anchored just outside of the bay but inside of the barrier reef. Our first anchoring attempt was in twelve feet of turquoise water, but we were just a little too close to a neighboring boat for comfort, so we pulled up the anchor for a second attempt. Just as the anchor hit the bow roller, the other boat hoisted their anchor. I called over and asked if they were leaving and yes indeed they were. If we would have hesitated for even a minute we could have stayed anchored on our first attempt. On our second attempt we had to circle around to find a suitable spot, but finally we found our new home.
Once we were settled the water called to me and I had to go swimming in the bluest water we had scene thus far on the voyage. The water was warm, clear and beautiful. Back onboard we shared a simple dinner of broccoli and cheese soup and fell asleep in one of the calmest anchorages we have ever visited.
Tuesday August second was just one of those days where we didn’t do much worth mentioning. The highlight of the day was filling our gas can for the dinghy which has been working exceptionally well on Moorea. Otherwise, it rained off and on throughout the day and we hung like slugs on the boat.
We did manage to get out for dinner. We walked to the local pizza place with Frank and Rachel from Starship. As we sat eating our pizza all the lights went out, so the owner of the shop and other patrons illuminated the dining area with their car headlights. The power stayed out during our entire walk home with cars racing at us at full speed, thank goodness Frank brought a flashlight.
On Wednesday we set out early for the fuel dock. On the dock is a funky shower and faucet unit. Not being shy we decided to take advantage of taking a shower and doing laundry standing out on the dock for the world to see, of course we weren’t out there in our birthday suits, but close enough. When we were squeaky clean, Pam moved into laundry mode and I trotted over to the gas station to snatch up some of the pineapples that had been rumored to be delicious. You get 8 little locally grown pineapples for 500 francs, not a bad deal for expensive French Polynesia. My next task was to try to find MORE FRESH FISH for the Fish Goddess Pamela, she had not consumed any sea life for at least a day and was in desperate need, so I jumped in the dinghy and cruised over to the fish dock. On my way I heard a shout from Last Call and diverted my course to see what was up. They called me over to tell me they had read about us in Sailing Magazine and Leslie told me to come aboard so she could show me. It turns out they keep back issues of sailing magazines onboard and they had the issue of Sailing that covered our voyage late last year. Trevor also asked me to help him with a computer problem; they had lost the sound on the computer. The volume problem was a quick adjustment and I was off in search of fish again. Bad news for the Fish Goddess, no fish at the inn! It was going to be a tense moment breaking the bad news, I hoped she wouldn’t flail around in desperation and jump off the dock in a mad hunt for fish in the bay. She actually took the news better than I thought, only moaning a little. The laundry was all finished and we filled two jerry cans with water, but decided we would only use the cans for washing or showers, as the water was a little murky from the recent rains.
In the afternoon we had plans to attempt our twice thwarted hike to Belvedere lookout, but as we were preparing to leave the mountain became shrouded in rain again. It looked like the mountain gods of Moorea were dead set against us visiting the mountain. We rebounded quickly and decided to walk back to the Pineapple Plantation for a second look and taste at the gift store. The walk was lovely as we managed to stay in the sun ahead of the rain. We were treated to a rainbow as we looked back behind us, however this also meant our laundry left out to dry was now getting a second fresh water rinse.
When we reached the gift shop, there were far fewer people in the store than on our last visit. We poked around a bit and ended up at the tasting bar for a few tastes of liqueurs that we could not remember tasting in the barrage of tastes we were given on the last trip. At first our impression of the woman serving us was that she was completely indifferent to our existence. We said hello and without a word she plopped two glasses in front of us as she gave us random tastes. Everything soon changed however, as we stood there sampling our hostess must have made some deductions about our identity because she shyly asked us in a whisper if we were on a boat. We told her that we were visiting on a sailboat. A smile came to her face and she then quietly asked us if we were those people on television who were sailing around the world and couldn’t see. Again, we told her she was correct, and within a second all barriers were dropped and she started asking all sorts of questions. We learned that the Pineapple lady’s name was Tara and that she was the manager of the gift shop and had worked in the store for ten years. Tara has lived on Moorea all her life and is very proud of her home. Now we were getting information about the island and suggestions of what liqueurs to buy and lots of friendly chit chat. We eventually moved on to pay and learned they could not accept a credit card for our purchases because the machine was down due to the power outage the night before. Well, now we were in a pickle, we were almost $20 short of cash. We quickly looked at our items to find some sacrifices and we were just about to return our items to the shelf when Tara walked over and asked us how much we were short. After telling her, she tapped on the calculator for a second and magically our purchases equaled the money in our pocket thanks to Tara’s special employee discount. Our next obstacle was the weather, we looked outside and it was raining cats and dogs. Tara said she would give us a ride to the bank so we could get some more cash and then back to our boat. Our new friend was full of help and support. We waited on a wooden bench with lizards carvings and waited for the staff to close up shop and then Tara told us to follow her to her car. As we drove in the rain we chatted about the children on the island. Pam was interested because she had not seen many children. Tara told us that many of the children on Moorea stay indoors a lot, caught in the influence of television and computers. Apparently if we wanted to catch sight of the children we needed to keep a watch as they walk to and from school. Tara took us to the other side of the bay and we got a quick look at the small town and I got a much needed visit to the ATM. We were then dropped off at the grocery store near our boat and we said our goodbyes to Tara.
The mission at the store today was to make a second attempt at locating fish for the Goddess, and this time we were successful. As we paid for our fish my mind wandered back to the seal we saw perform in Nuevo Vallarta and how the shiny black guy was rewarded with fish. There must be something that could work to my advantage from this common uncontrollable craving for fish. “Pam will you do the dishes tonight, I have a fresh piece of red tuna for you, okay now balance the ball on your nose…” We finished off the day with a very fat and happy Fish Goddess.
Thursday turned out to be our last day in Cook’s Bay. We spent the morning on the boat keeping watch because the wind was up, but we emerged at noon to get a bite at the café by the dock. We had called up Starship and Last Call to see if they wanted to join us. Last Call said they would meet us over at the café. We had a quick lunch of (you probably guessed it) tuna sandwiches. Last Call showed up just as we were finishing up. Leslie asked us if we were interested in following them over to Oponuhu Bay, they knew we were nervous about the reef and said they would not mind guiding us in. We were thrilled with the offer and quickly agreed.
We immediately stepped up the pace of the day and quickly completed the necessary errands to be ready to depart in just a few short hours. We made a final trip to the grocery store, bought ice, and tried without success to use the very slow Internet café.
The trip over to Oponuhu bay was a little wild and rolly, as soon as we left the safety of the barrier reef we were quickly tossed abound by waves hitting us on the beam, it was just the kind of trip that would turn a person prone to seasickness green in seconds. Little Tournesol tried like a champ to keep up with Last Call but we were certain that they were holding back and wallowing in the waves to stay with us. The sun came out for our trip over to Oponuhu and we were treated to fantastic views of the volcanic peaks and rich valleys of Moorea, again we were transported to a fairytale land with splendid mountainscapes and the sun setting on the deep blue ocean. It turns out that the channel into Oponuhu bay was very clearly marked and easy to navigate. We headed over to the mouth of the bay where a number of yachts were anchored just outside of the bay but inside of the barrier reef. Our first anchoring attempt was in twelve feet of turquoise water, but we were just a little too close to a neighboring boat for comfort, so we pulled up the anchor for a second attempt. Just as the anchor hit the bow roller, the other boat hoisted their anchor. I called over and asked if they were leaving and yes indeed they were. If we would have hesitated for even a minute we could have stayed anchored on our first attempt. On our second attempt we had to circle around to find a suitable spot, but finally we found our new home.
Once we were settled the water called to me and I had to go swimming in the bluest water we had scene thus far on the voyage. The water was warm, clear and beautiful. Back onboard we shared a simple dinner of broccoli and cheese soup and fell asleep in one of the calmest anchorages we have ever visited.
Monday, August 01, 2005
Journal Entry August 1, 2005 Wind, Rain and a Big Cat
Author: Pam
During the night the wind and rain escalated, our calm serene anchorage turned into a different place entirely. Early in the morning we stuck our head out of the companionway to check on the other boats and our position in the anchorage. There was a catamaran anchored near by that seemed to be swinging a lot on their anchor and within an hour it was obvious they were dragging. We went out on deck to keep an eye on their progress in getting their anchor set and ended up being involved in a situation that got out of hand. The wind was up to at least 30 knot gusts and the cat did not have the engine power to move against the wind. They also did not have a windless and the man on board was on the deck pulling the anchor by hand. Before we knew what was happening the cat was sitting on Tournesol’s anchor chain and bearing down on her bow. The four of us were trying to fend the two boats off of one another. The next thing we knew the captain of the cat was standing on our anchor chain to gain leverage and in an instant fell in the water. I know in that moment Scott and I both felt the same emotion as we encouraged him to move away from the boats, the boats were not more important than his life. Finally there was a lull in the wind allowing the boats to separate and they were able to motor a safe distance away. It was a particularly difficult situation, they did not speak English (we didn’t even know what language they were speaking) and it is very difficult to fend off a catamaran due to how low the boat is in the water. While they were pulling away from Tournesol another boat anchored nearby pulled up their anchor and moved to give them plenty of room. They finally anchored safely and no one else dragged their anchor the rest of the day.
The rain fell heavily all day and we stayed inside, except for the periodic peek outside. At one point I looked out to find the water around Tournesol completely brown. At first I thought there was a strange light from the sun, but quickly realized it was mud runoff from all of the rain. It was a completely different anchorage then we had arrived in a few days ago. The rain continued steady throughout the day, but the wind settled down in the early afternoon. We decided in the late afternoon to venture out and try to get some fish for dinner. Dressed in shorts and a light rain jacket we headed over to pick up Rachel on Starship to go to shore. We docked at the fish market and were delighted to find they had mahi mahi. We then decided to go to the grocery store, Rachel wanted to get a baguette. We went to both stores and as often happens that time of the day they were all out of baguettes. It was just as well, I don’t know how she would have gotten it back dry, we all looked like drowned rats when we got back to the boats.
Scott cooked the mahi mahi on top of the stove in butter and white wine. It was a delicious treat after such a dreary day.
During the night the wind and rain escalated, our calm serene anchorage turned into a different place entirely. Early in the morning we stuck our head out of the companionway to check on the other boats and our position in the anchorage. There was a catamaran anchored near by that seemed to be swinging a lot on their anchor and within an hour it was obvious they were dragging. We went out on deck to keep an eye on their progress in getting their anchor set and ended up being involved in a situation that got out of hand. The wind was up to at least 30 knot gusts and the cat did not have the engine power to move against the wind. They also did not have a windless and the man on board was on the deck pulling the anchor by hand. Before we knew what was happening the cat was sitting on Tournesol’s anchor chain and bearing down on her bow. The four of us were trying to fend the two boats off of one another. The next thing we knew the captain of the cat was standing on our anchor chain to gain leverage and in an instant fell in the water. I know in that moment Scott and I both felt the same emotion as we encouraged him to move away from the boats, the boats were not more important than his life. Finally there was a lull in the wind allowing the boats to separate and they were able to motor a safe distance away. It was a particularly difficult situation, they did not speak English (we didn’t even know what language they were speaking) and it is very difficult to fend off a catamaran due to how low the boat is in the water. While they were pulling away from Tournesol another boat anchored nearby pulled up their anchor and moved to give them plenty of room. They finally anchored safely and no one else dragged their anchor the rest of the day.
The rain fell heavily all day and we stayed inside, except for the periodic peek outside. At one point I looked out to find the water around Tournesol completely brown. At first I thought there was a strange light from the sun, but quickly realized it was mud runoff from all of the rain. It was a completely different anchorage then we had arrived in a few days ago. The rain continued steady throughout the day, but the wind settled down in the early afternoon. We decided in the late afternoon to venture out and try to get some fish for dinner. Dressed in shorts and a light rain jacket we headed over to pick up Rachel on Starship to go to shore. We docked at the fish market and were delighted to find they had mahi mahi. We then decided to go to the grocery store, Rachel wanted to get a baguette. We went to both stores and as often happens that time of the day they were all out of baguettes. It was just as well, I don’t know how she would have gotten it back dry, we all looked like drowned rats when we got back to the boats.
Scott cooked the mahi mahi on top of the stove in butter and white wine. It was a delicious treat after such a dreary day.
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