Author: Scott
As Pam walked away into the Air France’s boarding area to start her journey to the states my mind raced with all that needed to be done here in Tahiti. This would be the longest period of time we have spent apart since the start of our voyage and not only did we create a daunting list of to dos before Pam left, but I also wanted to have the boat in fine shape for Pam’s return.
I hopped on Le Truck and rode into town. First stop, Mc Donald’s to fortify myself for the work ahead. I heard the customer in front of me order a Mc Feast and I could not resist the temptation of stepping away from the old standbys and I ordered my first Mc Feast. I wonder if they sell this big cheesy, mayonnaisey treat in the states? Next I headed back to the boat to tidy up a little. Pam had left the laundry hanging with strict instructions to watch the quilts on the line, so I stepped out to the bow to take inventory. To my horror there was a big gap on the line where once a quilt fluttered proudly in the wind. “Oh no, gone only a few hours and the quilt has disappeared!” I pulled down the remaining laundry and thought of how I would tell Pam that one of the prized quilts she worked hard to find had taken a leap off the boat, never to be seen again. My momentum squelched I headed back below to take a short cat nap. Pam is not a napper and so I had big plans of stealing a few precious naps in her absence. No sooner had my head hit the pillow then I heard our friend Gill from Last Call calling my name from the quay. I roused myself and went outside to see what she wanted. She told me she and Trevor had just walked by and seen our quilt submerged under the quay a few boats to port. I was elated; I would not have to fess up to loosing the quilt! In a flash Gill jumped in the water and swam over to the quilt. Now I am not squeamish but I sure thought twice about what lurked in the murky harbor water, but Gill did not give it a second thought. I protested but she said she was already in her bathing suit and within a few minutes had rescued the sodden blanket. We wrestled it into the dinghy and Gill offered to launder it for me. I must confess I was thrilled with the offer but I knew this was asking a lot from anyone. I protested again but Gill insisted saying she was already in the midst of laundry herself. We paddled the dinghy over to Gill’s boat and hauled the soggy beast on board. The quilt was whisked away and Gill asked about helping me phone the mechanics so she could translate for me. We made a plan to meet shortly and I returned blanketless to Tournesol.
A few minutes later I met Gill and we were off to phone the mechanics. After buying a phone card from the post office we stood at the phone booth and I coached Gill on our engine needs. We were successful on our second attempt and the mechanic would meet at Tournesol the following morning, and he spoke a little English. We walked over to the little round café that sold milkshakes and I offered to reward Gill with a milkshake. The milkshakes were yummy and Gill asked if she could help in any other way. I told her I was just fine and I planned to run off to find a place to get a hair cut. Gill piped up she knew a place and next thing I knew we were on the go again to find the Coifier. We found success with a few directions received in French and in no time I was sheered looking a little less like a homeless yachtie. We walked back to the boat and Gill invited me to attend a free concert with Hawaiian and Tahitian dancing and then maybe dinner at the trucks. Ann and James might meet up with us and it sounded like a fun evening.
When Gill returned to pick me up for the concert she had our quilt with her, all neatly folded. She handed it over to me smelling fresh, clean, and dry. I think it was in better shape than it was before it went in the drink. I stowed the blanket below and we were off to the concert. James had come down with a cold and so it would be just Gill and I. The show was an interesting mix of traditional dancing at the start and then it moved into less traditional. We watched Polynesian dancing blended with salsa and there was even a mind boggling break dancing demonstration. I have been to New York and seen some pretty incredible street dancing but these boys were by far the best I have ever seen. One young dancer could stand on one hand almost indefinitely bounding up and down to the beat of the music. I was impressed! After the show we wondered over to the Trucks for a bite and met up with the rest of the crew from Last Call and Pierce from Splash Tango. I had a steak with Roquefort sauce and we all finished off our meals by heading over to the desert truck and having an ice cream sundae. Pam was gone for only a day and I cleaned her quilt (with a little help), seen wonderful dancing, and eaten like a king. Sooner or later the work would come.
I woke up Friday morning to meet the mechanic and he was right on time. He came over to Tournesol and I managed to communicate or problem with the internal water pump. He quickly assessed the situation while moaning and groaning. He explained to me in broken English he had never fixed an engine like this but he could do it for a minimum of $2500 if we supplied the parts. I thanked him and let him know I would consider his estimate. I knew this job would require a lot of work since the pump was located deep within the engine block, but this just sounded way too expensive to me. I wanted to explore improving on our work-around by buying a better external pump, or finding another mechanic or talented cruiser to help with the repairs. The rest of the day was spent with Ann and James in the industrial area. We each had errands to complete including visiting the chandlery, electronics place, and two hardware stores. James was successful in finding a hose he needed to repair his bilge pump and I managed to find the items I needed. As we returned to the quay we decided we deserved a treat, so we stopped in at a local micro brewery and I had the best beer I have encountered since leaving the states. We ran into Gill on the quay and decided we would seek out another night of free entertainment at the square where we saw the dancing the night before. We agreed we would eat independently and I heated up some of the raviolis we found on sale at the store, not bad, they would make a good addition to food while sailing. We watched another round of dancing and by this time it was all starting to blend together and I think I was a little danced out. When the show was finished we headed over to the trucks again for another night of ice cream. We all sat on a cement block overlooking the harbor and talked and talked. When we finally looked at our watched it was well after 2300 so we all wandered back to our boats.
On Saturday Gill visited again, this time telling me a mechanic she had met while out in town would be by for a second opinion and she also invited me over for dinner that night. Gill has just been awesome! The mechanic came and although he was equally unsure of working on our engine type, he seemed a little more willing to attempt the repair. However, mechanic number two spoke almost no English and could not even give me a preliminary estimate. I made my way over to the Internet and called Pam on Skype, the internet phone service we use when we can. Her trip was going well but she was disappointed to learn of the outcome with the mechanics. I next called Terry our mechanic in the Bay Area to discuss options with him. During our conversation I told Terry about my meetings with the mechanics in Papeete. He advised me the one quote was way too high and although the job was difficult it should take no more than a day and a half to complete the work. He then said he would be willing to fly out and fix the engine for less than the mechanic in Papeete had quoted us. Wow, what an offer to have a known mechanic fly out and fix a difficult problem and then be here to help us tune up the engine… I let Terry know I would talk it over with Pam and get back to him. I phoned Pam again and let her know about Terry’s offer. We agreed this may be a great option for us and so I called Terry back to tell him we were interested and we would start researching plane tickets. The remainder of Saturday was another trip to the industrial area that lasted right up until my appointed time for dinner on Last Call.
Dinner on Last Call was delicious. We had thinly sliced sashimi with wasbi and soy sauce for an appetizer and then wonderful grilled fish with rice and vegetables for dinner. Trevor kept me entertained with stories of his first sailing voyages that led years later to his current expedition. I slept well that night with a full tummy.
Sunday was all about cleaning up the boat. On our last passage our bilge had gotten a little full and when the boat heeled we got some oily water on our cabin floors and in some of our food lockers. I had to completely remove all of the food from under our settees to clean out a small amount of water that had spread out unbelievable efficiently coating many of the supplies. I took the opportunity to rearrange some things and by the end of the day had made Tournesol beautiful inside. Before Pam had left I bragged I would just lay around on Sunday napping and reading, well my planned lounging never happened once my compulsion to clean took control. I had a lonely dinner by myself at Le Retro and went to bed early.
The three remaining days of my time alone in Papeete is just a collage of working on the boat, eating disappointing food and visiting with the folks I had come to know on the quay. The industrial area was beginning to feel like home, and I was beginning to really long for the day when we could escape the quay. As Pam’s arrival drew nearer my spirits improved with the anticipation for finding a solution to the engine problem and finally moving on from Tahiti.
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
Journal Entry – June 30 – July 6, 2005 Another Whirlwind trip to San Francisco
Author: Pam
As I thought, the taxi driver arrived at 5:30 sharp as I was sitting in the dinghy with my bag waiting for Scott to close up the boat, the police did a good job. The taxi ride to the airport was less than ten minutes and cost $20.00, ouch! I flew Air France to LA, cleared customs and flew United to SF arriving on time. I did not want to be back so soon, but I decided on the trip over that though I thought I wouldn’t go home for at least year after leaving that is not how it is turning out and I am just going to go with the flow. My friends Richard and Joan picked me up at the airport and then proceeded to be wonderful hosts for my whirlwind few days of frantic errands, appointments and coordinating engine parts with the mechanic.
I went to the Dr. first thing the next morning for what I was hoping to be just a follow-up visit. She ended up doing another biopsy and cultures and suggested I not leave the states until I had the results. Of course Monday was a holiday and this could slow down the possibility of getting the results by Wednesday. I spent Saturday morning investigating the possibility of changing my ticket and found out there was no option to do so. I decided I would go back to Tahiti without the results if I had to and if I needed to return to the states then I would cross that bridge later. Fortunately, I got the results an hour before I left for the airport and they were negative. Phew.
I ran around non-stop with the list I had come back with. Amazed that we still needed anything after all we have bought over the past eight months. The list required several trips to West Marine, because as per usual they don’t have what you need at the store you went to first. I shopped again at Big Lots, my new favorite bargain store for canned food. Of course, it is stressful to buy canned food and wonder how you will stay within the luggage weight limit. Trader Joes and Safeway were also graced with my presence. I did not have much time for socializing and unfortunately didn’t even get to call some friends. The few friends I did see had to endure a shopping trip or errand, otherwise it wasn’t all going to get done. I can’t even begin to express how blessed I feel, I think I have the best friends on the planet. As an aside, missing my friends and family has been the biggest challenge for me since we left on our trip. I am used to daily contact with my friends and I have not gotten used to not being able to pick up the phone and call.
I did squeeze in going to the movies with Richard and Joan. We went to see War of the Worlds. It had been three months since I had gone to a movie and a lot longer since I had good popcorn at the theater. In Mexico we saw several movies, but they don’t put butter on the popcorn and hot sauce was not the ticket. Unfortunately, I really didn’t like War of the Worlds, but it was still fun to be at a modern theater with a big screen.
I had many phone calls with the mechanic Terry Tucker from Berkeley Marine Center who helped us diagnosis the engine problem while we were at sea. He tracked down the parts we need to fix the engine and a back-up alternator and regulator. Unfortunately, the parts were not in the Bay Area and did not arrive in time for me to bring them back to Tahiti with me. We are considering flying Terry to Tahiti to fix the engine and if that happens he will bring the parts with him, if not we will have them shipped.
As the bags piled up on the bedroom floor I became more worried about my luggage limit. When the day came to pack Richard and I carried everything down to their garage where I could spread out and get organized. It became clear quickly I would be paying to bring an extra bag. The limit was two seventy pound pieces of checked luggage. Richard loaned me an extra bag and I commenced packing. After the bags were nearly full he helped me weigh each bag. They were all over sixty pounds, but less than sixty five. This felt like a good margin for the possibility of a difference in the scales at the airport.
Kathy drove me to the airport with a stop at In and Out Burger for dinner, that was mostly to make Scott jealous, but of course it was yummy. When it was my turn each bag was hefted onto the scale and Kathy saw weights of sixty nine and a half pounds, she thinks the guy may have even picked up on one of the bags slightly, phew again. The guy checking me in had one computer glitch after another. First he had a difficult time getting the bags to be transferred in LA, but with some help from his co-worker and tweaking the date or something like that he felt good about the results. I on the other hand was a bit concerned about the date tweaking, whatever that had been. He then couldn’t get the computer to accept the payment for the third bag. It took a half hour to check-in and the line was huge by the time he was finished with me. Because I had requested assistance with the connection he asked if I would like Kathy to walk to the gate with me. I had no idea they made any exceptions anymore, but he gave her a voucher and we sailed right through security. It was nice to have her company and a chance to spend more time together. It was a red eye flight back and went smoothly and reasonably quickly for an almost eight hour flight from LA. It was a strange feeling buying a round trip ticket from Tahiti, my how my life has changed.
As I thought, the taxi driver arrived at 5:30 sharp as I was sitting in the dinghy with my bag waiting for Scott to close up the boat, the police did a good job. The taxi ride to the airport was less than ten minutes and cost $20.00, ouch! I flew Air France to LA, cleared customs and flew United to SF arriving on time. I did not want to be back so soon, but I decided on the trip over that though I thought I wouldn’t go home for at least year after leaving that is not how it is turning out and I am just going to go with the flow. My friends Richard and Joan picked me up at the airport and then proceeded to be wonderful hosts for my whirlwind few days of frantic errands, appointments and coordinating engine parts with the mechanic.
I went to the Dr. first thing the next morning for what I was hoping to be just a follow-up visit. She ended up doing another biopsy and cultures and suggested I not leave the states until I had the results. Of course Monday was a holiday and this could slow down the possibility of getting the results by Wednesday. I spent Saturday morning investigating the possibility of changing my ticket and found out there was no option to do so. I decided I would go back to Tahiti without the results if I had to and if I needed to return to the states then I would cross that bridge later. Fortunately, I got the results an hour before I left for the airport and they were negative. Phew.
I ran around non-stop with the list I had come back with. Amazed that we still needed anything after all we have bought over the past eight months. The list required several trips to West Marine, because as per usual they don’t have what you need at the store you went to first. I shopped again at Big Lots, my new favorite bargain store for canned food. Of course, it is stressful to buy canned food and wonder how you will stay within the luggage weight limit. Trader Joes and Safeway were also graced with my presence. I did not have much time for socializing and unfortunately didn’t even get to call some friends. The few friends I did see had to endure a shopping trip or errand, otherwise it wasn’t all going to get done. I can’t even begin to express how blessed I feel, I think I have the best friends on the planet. As an aside, missing my friends and family has been the biggest challenge for me since we left on our trip. I am used to daily contact with my friends and I have not gotten used to not being able to pick up the phone and call.
I did squeeze in going to the movies with Richard and Joan. We went to see War of the Worlds. It had been three months since I had gone to a movie and a lot longer since I had good popcorn at the theater. In Mexico we saw several movies, but they don’t put butter on the popcorn and hot sauce was not the ticket. Unfortunately, I really didn’t like War of the Worlds, but it was still fun to be at a modern theater with a big screen.
I had many phone calls with the mechanic Terry Tucker from Berkeley Marine Center who helped us diagnosis the engine problem while we were at sea. He tracked down the parts we need to fix the engine and a back-up alternator and regulator. Unfortunately, the parts were not in the Bay Area and did not arrive in time for me to bring them back to Tahiti with me. We are considering flying Terry to Tahiti to fix the engine and if that happens he will bring the parts with him, if not we will have them shipped.
As the bags piled up on the bedroom floor I became more worried about my luggage limit. When the day came to pack Richard and I carried everything down to their garage where I could spread out and get organized. It became clear quickly I would be paying to bring an extra bag. The limit was two seventy pound pieces of checked luggage. Richard loaned me an extra bag and I commenced packing. After the bags were nearly full he helped me weigh each bag. They were all over sixty pounds, but less than sixty five. This felt like a good margin for the possibility of a difference in the scales at the airport.
Kathy drove me to the airport with a stop at In and Out Burger for dinner, that was mostly to make Scott jealous, but of course it was yummy. When it was my turn each bag was hefted onto the scale and Kathy saw weights of sixty nine and a half pounds, she thinks the guy may have even picked up on one of the bags slightly, phew again. The guy checking me in had one computer glitch after another. First he had a difficult time getting the bags to be transferred in LA, but with some help from his co-worker and tweaking the date or something like that he felt good about the results. I on the other hand was a bit concerned about the date tweaking, whatever that had been. He then couldn’t get the computer to accept the payment for the third bag. It took a half hour to check-in and the line was huge by the time he was finished with me. Because I had requested assistance with the connection he asked if I would like Kathy to walk to the gate with me. I had no idea they made any exceptions anymore, but he gave her a voucher and we sailed right through security. It was nice to have her company and a chance to spend more time together. It was a red eye flight back and went smoothly and reasonably quickly for an almost eight hour flight from LA. It was a strange feeling buying a round trip ticket from Tahiti, my how my life has changed.
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Journal Entry June 25 – June 29, 2005 First Week in Tahiti
Author: Pam
On Saturday we woke up and pondered the day ahead of us. We already knew you can accomplish very little business on Saturday in French Polynesia, so we had resolved ourselves to boat chores and exploring. Around midday our friend Tom from Medusa came by the boat to say hello, he had heard from Dan also on Medusa we were here (Dan had come by soon after we had arrived). Tom was aware of our engine problem from Nuku Hiva and he offered to show us where the industrial area of the island was, so on Monday we could hit the ground running. We set out for a hike to the northeast section of the island where all of the boat services reside. We scoped out Sopom, a company that had been recommended by Grasal while we were still on the crossing. All of the stores were already closed for Saturday afternoon, if they had been open at all. As we were leaving the parking lot of Sopom we asked a woman where the yacht club was and were the boats in the small marina next to Sopom part of the yacht club. The answer was no and the yacht club was miles away. We were interested in the possibility of moving the boat to the yacht club that we had read about in the cruising guide. As we started to leave the parking lot, she offered to give us a ride and the next thing we knew we were in her car with her two young children giggling about speaking English with me. We didn’t get much past hello and what is your name. They were very cute. After some confusion of where she was driving us, she finally dropped us and Tom off near the Internet café, Tom needed to check his e-mail. We had already decided we would go for a beer and catch up on Medusa’s and Tournesol’s trip from Nuku Hiva…. We went to Le Retro, located on the waterfront, not far from the boat. We ordered beers and given the option of big that is always Scott’s preference. Well, of course when the bill came we found out the “big” beers cost $9.00. Welcome to Tahiti. What I can’t figure out is why beer that is supposedly Tahitian (Hinano) costs so much, even in Tahiti. It was one thing when it had to be brought by boat to Nuku Hiva, but this remains a mystery to me. We had a great time catching up and getting to know Tom better and our walk was a very helpful orientation to an important part of the Island.
On Sunday we spent most of the day on the boat, there is absolutely nothing open though it is a very touristy area. We did learn the Market is open until 0900 and it is suppose to be the best day to go, so we will check it out one Sunday while we are here. After walking around for a while we came back to find the wind had come up and was pushing Tournesol and several other boats into the quay. We were very concerned about the windvane and with the help of another cruiser we took a mooring line out to a buoy to hold Tournesol more forward. In the meantime, the German boat next to us took a big hit into the quay and unfortunately got a big scrape on the transom. Several cruisers, including Scott boarded their boat to move fenders aft to prevent more damage until they retuned. When they did return needless to say, he was very disappointed to find an ugly white scratch marring their beautiful blue gelcoat.
Monday of course brought the routine of checking in. Fortunately and unlike our experience in Mexico all of the officials are located in the same building. We went to the Gendarmerie first and filled out the necessary forms. Then a copy of that form is taken to Customs and then finally to the Port Captain. It went very smoothly and we met several other cruisers who were behind us during the entire process.
No surprise it was McDonald’s for lunch. I must say it is nice sometimes to have food that you know what it will taste like. I have eaten more McDonald’s on this trip then I have in my entire adult life. We headed off to the industrial Area during the afternoon with high hopes of finding a mechanic to look at the engine and the outboard. Long story short, everywhere we went they sent us somewhere else. Also, it was the strangest customer service experience. We would enter a store and no one would pay any attention to us, it felt as though they did not care if they had our business or not, this combined with when we finally did have or try to have a conversation they sent us somewhere else. We left the industrial area with hand drawn maps to the other places we should try. We were very discouraged and reminded how difficult it is to take care of business and problems in a foreign country.
The fun of seeing cruisers you have met in other ports continued when Gill from Last Call came by to say hello. She lived in Tahiti twenty years ago and speaks a little French. She offered to help in any way she could to find a mechanic to look at the engine. She is really friendly and it was nice to see her again.
As mentioned in Nuku Hiva food served from mobile trucks is very popular in French Polynesia. Well, in Tahiti there is a nightly event made out of the food trucks. Just at the end of the Quay approximately 15 trucks pull in and set up for business, each has a few tables, lights, signs… The primary food served is Chinese, especially Chow Mein. However, there is crepes, pizza, steak and ice cream… We decided to give the trucks a try, we had heard from some people it is the only place they eat. We had the Special Chow Mein, it was good, but a bit too greasy. I am sure we will give the trucks another try, it is a hot spot for the locals so there has to be something to it.
In Nuku Hiva we decided I would make a trip back to the US when we got to Tahiti. The Dr. in Mexico said I should get a check up within a few months and we wanted to try to get the engine parts we need. Tahiti seemed like the best option, since waiting until New Zealand would be too long. I bought a ticket on line, but unfortunately the only “reasonable” deal I could get was a paper ticket. Who gets paper tickets anymore? Well, tickets bought on-line that involve multiple carriers are paper. So, it meant the ticket was sent to my credit card billing address, which is currently my friend Dwayne’s address which of course is in the states. He had to send the ticket via DHL to Tahiti to be held at the DHL office. He did a great job working out the details, it was not easy to make happen. So, on Tuesday the day was all about figuring out where the DHL office was and retrieving my ticket. We hunted down the bus stop for Le Truck, the public transportation system and hopped on a “bus” that was going by the airport. It costs 130 cfp (approx. $1.30 per person) during the day and 200 cpf at night (apparently it is more expensive due to less people riding at night). The Le Trucks seem to be a husband and wife team, the husband driving and the wife hanging out of the window answering questions and taking the fare. They sit in the front cab and the passenger section has a low ceiling and benches to sit on. I think they are all a bit different from each other, but the one we rode to and from the airport had three benches. Once we arrived at the airport after difficult communication with the information desk we finally found out the DHL office was actually back out on the main road. We found the office and retrieved my ticket, much to our relief, I am leaving on Thursday.
We have not been able to plug the boat in, because though our boat is wired for 220 volts the outlet for the plug is of course different. We walked along the Quay to investigate how other boats were plugged in and while inspecting Red Sky’s plug ended up in a conversation with Charles. He told us he cut the end off his 30 amp cord and wired the plug he bought in the industrial area to the cord. We decided since we were desperate for power this sounded like the best solution. They don’t sell the 16 amp cords here unfortunately. So, off to the industrial area again in search of the plug. It turned out Red Sky had bought the last plug with rubber housing, so we settled for the one with plastic. When we retuned to the boat Charles came over and helped Scott perform surgery on our cord. Crossing our fingers we plugged in the cord and prayed for power. Nothing happened. We had the boat wired for 220 volts right before we left, but we had no way of testing it until we reached a foreign port. We called the Harbor Master to make sure our power was turned on and they sent a maintenance guy right over. He discovered Charles and Scott had one wire backwards and after he made that change, reset the breaker we had POWER for the first time in 46 days (other than what the sun produced).
As promised we dropped off the tinned (as they say in England) corned beef and some books to Novia. While visiting they invited us to dinner the following evening.
Wednesday we spent the day preparing for my trip to the US. We had to tear almost every inch of the boat apart so I could pack from the cockpit lazarette to the V-Berth. We found unfortunately the V-Berth had gotten wet on the passage from Nuku Hiva, not a big surprise since we took thousands of gallons of water over the bow. By the end of the day the boat was a disaster and we could hardly move. We did manage to get my suitcase packed finally and we were both exhausted and a bit testy by the end of the day. I think we were both thinking a short break after 24/7 on a small boat would be good for us. We finished the task at hand in time to get ready to go over to Novia for dinner. We have no access to a public shower here and bug showering in the cockpit is not an option with all of the foot traffic, car traffic and closeness of the other boats. Hmmm. We do have access to a tap and have a hose strung to the boat. I decided the best idea was to sit on the bow and shave my legs and wash my hair. Well, all of this happened in the daylight and during Splash Tango’s cocktail hour. I couldn’t see them, but I could hear they were out in their cockpit, I just went quickly about my business and figured I might be the cocktail hour entertainment. It was the best hair washing method outside of a conventional shower, I will miss the hose when we get back underway. It was a welcome break to head over to Novia for dinner. We had a very nice evening with Ann and James comparing stories of our crossings and plans for the upcoming future. They are surely going to be fun cruising friends throughout the South Pacific. We left their boat with the trade bag for the corned beef, canned chicken, tuna, crab and pate and some books. Works for us! We did keep five or six cans of corned beef to barter with in Tonga, we’ll see what happens there.
Gill stopped by that evening to say hello and wanted to know how I was getting to the airport. We wanted to take Le Truck, but we had been unsuccessful finding out how early it runs. She offered to hail a taxi and ask the driver to come at 0530 the next morning. This sounded like a good plan, especially since we know there are taxis, but they are so non-descript we have not actually seen one on the road that we know of. So, she set out to hail a taxi. One came by she thought, but it turned out to be the police. Well, since they had pulled over in response to her hail, she had to tell them why she had hailed them. Their response was to say they would go back down the street to the taxi stand and request a taxi for the morning and off they went. A few minutes later they came back to confirm they had made the request and we should expect a taxi at 5:30. I went to sleep feeling pretty confident that if the police put in the request a taxi surely would come and probably on time.
On Saturday we woke up and pondered the day ahead of us. We already knew you can accomplish very little business on Saturday in French Polynesia, so we had resolved ourselves to boat chores and exploring. Around midday our friend Tom from Medusa came by the boat to say hello, he had heard from Dan also on Medusa we were here (Dan had come by soon after we had arrived). Tom was aware of our engine problem from Nuku Hiva and he offered to show us where the industrial area of the island was, so on Monday we could hit the ground running. We set out for a hike to the northeast section of the island where all of the boat services reside. We scoped out Sopom, a company that had been recommended by Grasal while we were still on the crossing. All of the stores were already closed for Saturday afternoon, if they had been open at all. As we were leaving the parking lot of Sopom we asked a woman where the yacht club was and were the boats in the small marina next to Sopom part of the yacht club. The answer was no and the yacht club was miles away. We were interested in the possibility of moving the boat to the yacht club that we had read about in the cruising guide. As we started to leave the parking lot, she offered to give us a ride and the next thing we knew we were in her car with her two young children giggling about speaking English with me. We didn’t get much past hello and what is your name. They were very cute. After some confusion of where she was driving us, she finally dropped us and Tom off near the Internet café, Tom needed to check his e-mail. We had already decided we would go for a beer and catch up on Medusa’s and Tournesol’s trip from Nuku Hiva…. We went to Le Retro, located on the waterfront, not far from the boat. We ordered beers and given the option of big that is always Scott’s preference. Well, of course when the bill came we found out the “big” beers cost $9.00. Welcome to Tahiti. What I can’t figure out is why beer that is supposedly Tahitian (Hinano) costs so much, even in Tahiti. It was one thing when it had to be brought by boat to Nuku Hiva, but this remains a mystery to me. We had a great time catching up and getting to know Tom better and our walk was a very helpful orientation to an important part of the Island.
On Sunday we spent most of the day on the boat, there is absolutely nothing open though it is a very touristy area. We did learn the Market is open until 0900 and it is suppose to be the best day to go, so we will check it out one Sunday while we are here. After walking around for a while we came back to find the wind had come up and was pushing Tournesol and several other boats into the quay. We were very concerned about the windvane and with the help of another cruiser we took a mooring line out to a buoy to hold Tournesol more forward. In the meantime, the German boat next to us took a big hit into the quay and unfortunately got a big scrape on the transom. Several cruisers, including Scott boarded their boat to move fenders aft to prevent more damage until they retuned. When they did return needless to say, he was very disappointed to find an ugly white scratch marring their beautiful blue gelcoat.
Monday of course brought the routine of checking in. Fortunately and unlike our experience in Mexico all of the officials are located in the same building. We went to the Gendarmerie first and filled out the necessary forms. Then a copy of that form is taken to Customs and then finally to the Port Captain. It went very smoothly and we met several other cruisers who were behind us during the entire process.
No surprise it was McDonald’s for lunch. I must say it is nice sometimes to have food that you know what it will taste like. I have eaten more McDonald’s on this trip then I have in my entire adult life. We headed off to the industrial Area during the afternoon with high hopes of finding a mechanic to look at the engine and the outboard. Long story short, everywhere we went they sent us somewhere else. Also, it was the strangest customer service experience. We would enter a store and no one would pay any attention to us, it felt as though they did not care if they had our business or not, this combined with when we finally did have or try to have a conversation they sent us somewhere else. We left the industrial area with hand drawn maps to the other places we should try. We were very discouraged and reminded how difficult it is to take care of business and problems in a foreign country.
The fun of seeing cruisers you have met in other ports continued when Gill from Last Call came by to say hello. She lived in Tahiti twenty years ago and speaks a little French. She offered to help in any way she could to find a mechanic to look at the engine. She is really friendly and it was nice to see her again.
As mentioned in Nuku Hiva food served from mobile trucks is very popular in French Polynesia. Well, in Tahiti there is a nightly event made out of the food trucks. Just at the end of the Quay approximately 15 trucks pull in and set up for business, each has a few tables, lights, signs… The primary food served is Chinese, especially Chow Mein. However, there is crepes, pizza, steak and ice cream… We decided to give the trucks a try, we had heard from some people it is the only place they eat. We had the Special Chow Mein, it was good, but a bit too greasy. I am sure we will give the trucks another try, it is a hot spot for the locals so there has to be something to it.
In Nuku Hiva we decided I would make a trip back to the US when we got to Tahiti. The Dr. in Mexico said I should get a check up within a few months and we wanted to try to get the engine parts we need. Tahiti seemed like the best option, since waiting until New Zealand would be too long. I bought a ticket on line, but unfortunately the only “reasonable” deal I could get was a paper ticket. Who gets paper tickets anymore? Well, tickets bought on-line that involve multiple carriers are paper. So, it meant the ticket was sent to my credit card billing address, which is currently my friend Dwayne’s address which of course is in the states. He had to send the ticket via DHL to Tahiti to be held at the DHL office. He did a great job working out the details, it was not easy to make happen. So, on Tuesday the day was all about figuring out where the DHL office was and retrieving my ticket. We hunted down the bus stop for Le Truck, the public transportation system and hopped on a “bus” that was going by the airport. It costs 130 cfp (approx. $1.30 per person) during the day and 200 cpf at night (apparently it is more expensive due to less people riding at night). The Le Trucks seem to be a husband and wife team, the husband driving and the wife hanging out of the window answering questions and taking the fare. They sit in the front cab and the passenger section has a low ceiling and benches to sit on. I think they are all a bit different from each other, but the one we rode to and from the airport had three benches. Once we arrived at the airport after difficult communication with the information desk we finally found out the DHL office was actually back out on the main road. We found the office and retrieved my ticket, much to our relief, I am leaving on Thursday.
We have not been able to plug the boat in, because though our boat is wired for 220 volts the outlet for the plug is of course different. We walked along the Quay to investigate how other boats were plugged in and while inspecting Red Sky’s plug ended up in a conversation with Charles. He told us he cut the end off his 30 amp cord and wired the plug he bought in the industrial area to the cord. We decided since we were desperate for power this sounded like the best solution. They don’t sell the 16 amp cords here unfortunately. So, off to the industrial area again in search of the plug. It turned out Red Sky had bought the last plug with rubber housing, so we settled for the one with plastic. When we retuned to the boat Charles came over and helped Scott perform surgery on our cord. Crossing our fingers we plugged in the cord and prayed for power. Nothing happened. We had the boat wired for 220 volts right before we left, but we had no way of testing it until we reached a foreign port. We called the Harbor Master to make sure our power was turned on and they sent a maintenance guy right over. He discovered Charles and Scott had one wire backwards and after he made that change, reset the breaker we had POWER for the first time in 46 days (other than what the sun produced).
As promised we dropped off the tinned (as they say in England) corned beef and some books to Novia. While visiting they invited us to dinner the following evening.
Wednesday we spent the day preparing for my trip to the US. We had to tear almost every inch of the boat apart so I could pack from the cockpit lazarette to the V-Berth. We found unfortunately the V-Berth had gotten wet on the passage from Nuku Hiva, not a big surprise since we took thousands of gallons of water over the bow. By the end of the day the boat was a disaster and we could hardly move. We did manage to get my suitcase packed finally and we were both exhausted and a bit testy by the end of the day. I think we were both thinking a short break after 24/7 on a small boat would be good for us. We finished the task at hand in time to get ready to go over to Novia for dinner. We have no access to a public shower here and bug showering in the cockpit is not an option with all of the foot traffic, car traffic and closeness of the other boats. Hmmm. We do have access to a tap and have a hose strung to the boat. I decided the best idea was to sit on the bow and shave my legs and wash my hair. Well, all of this happened in the daylight and during Splash Tango’s cocktail hour. I couldn’t see them, but I could hear they were out in their cockpit, I just went quickly about my business and figured I might be the cocktail hour entertainment. It was the best hair washing method outside of a conventional shower, I will miss the hose when we get back underway. It was a welcome break to head over to Novia for dinner. We had a very nice evening with Ann and James comparing stories of our crossings and plans for the upcoming future. They are surely going to be fun cruising friends throughout the South Pacific. We left their boat with the trade bag for the corned beef, canned chicken, tuna, crab and pate and some books. Works for us! We did keep five or six cans of corned beef to barter with in Tonga, we’ll see what happens there.
Gill stopped by that evening to say hello and wanted to know how I was getting to the airport. We wanted to take Le Truck, but we had been unsuccessful finding out how early it runs. She offered to hail a taxi and ask the driver to come at 0530 the next morning. This sounded like a good plan, especially since we know there are taxis, but they are so non-descript we have not actually seen one on the road that we know of. So, she set out to hail a taxi. One came by she thought, but it turned out to be the police. Well, since they had pulled over in response to her hail, she had to tell them why she had hailed them. Their response was to say they would go back down the street to the taxi stand and request a taxi for the morning and off they went. A few minutes later they came back to confirm they had made the request and we should expect a taxi at 5:30. I went to sleep feeling pretty confident that if the police put in the request a taxi surely would come and probably on time.
Friday, June 24, 2005
Journal Entry June 22 - 24, 2005 - Tahiti At Last!
Author: Scott
The evening of the 22nd turned out to be a small celebration of our eminent arrival in Papeete. First we were treated to a lovely bug shower before dinner. It always feels so nice to get the salt off your skin and to enjoy that squeaky clean feeling that comes from precious fresh water. Even though we had just made pasta with clams, we decided to repeat one of our favorite meals. The pasta was delicious and we even opened our last bottle of red wine that was tucked away under the nav seat. Dinner was eaten out of our big white non-skid bowls in the cockpit, with us each polishing off at least a pound of pasta covered in parmesan. The warm evening had a strangely calm feeling in the wind and as we finished up our celebratory meal the wind lulled to a whisper and the sails started to slat. Surely this was just a momentary lapse while the giant wind forces sighed and rested for a minute. We washed up and prepared for our watches and yet the wind never returned at any substantial force.
The winds grew to be so light and unpredictable we had to use the electric auto pilot to navigate while I slept. Normally we don’t have to fret about using the auto pilot, as it uses a very economic level of power, but now every amp counts. During my watch I hand steered Tournesol as we plodded along under full main and 80% jib. Our watches continued like this all night, with us making less than three knots an hour towards Tahiti.
The morning brought with it the beautiful island of Tahiti clearly in sight, but also came doubt of reaching Papeete before nightfall, we held our hopes high nonetheless. We spent the entire day taking turns hand steering and reading Pat Henry aloud. It began to feel exactly the same as it had when we were approaching Nuku Hiva. We were going to get close, but it soon became clear we would not arrive in Papeete today, so much for our dinner celebration the night before, but the pasta was yummy. As the sun started to set we mused about getting another dolphin visitation to consol us for languishing at sea just off of our destination. The dolphins never came but we were rewarded with the most spectacular sunset since the sky turned red off of Los Muertos. The sky turned a beautiful golden hue with dark clouds strung across the skyline and then the sky burst with reds and purples. We must have taken forty pictures of the beautiful sunset. When we finally complete this journey we are going to have millions of sunset photos.
We enjoyed the sunset but decided to skip dinner since nothing was going to come close to satisfying us as our pasta had the night before. As night approached we had only 21 miles to Papeete, normally a distance easily reached in a single night’s sail, but we had no expectations that could be jinxed, we were resigned to whatever the wind would offer up
Again we hand steered not wanting to sacrifice any progress with the wind vane and not using the power hungry auto pilot at all. Because we were hand steering our watches were two hours on and two off. When I came on for my second watch at midnight the wind suddenly kicked in with gusto. The moon with huge in the sky and the stars were out, I put on my headphones and the boat shot ahead. Unfortunately the wind was off our bow and we were going to have to tack our way into Papeete, but at least we were sailing again. The sails were illuminated from the moon and the wind was building to a steady twenty knots with water ripping along the hull and I was dancing in the cockpit listening to Billy Joel’s greatest hits blaring in my headphones while I enjoyed some of the best sailing of the entire voyage. When Pam’s watch came up I reluctantly gave her the wheel, a far cry from many other watches where desperate longing for sleep was the only thought on my mind. Pam continued the fun and hand steered to the headphones. We would tack at an angle taking us away from the island and out to sea, just to tack back with the island directly ahead with lights glistening on the black hills. It is unnerving to feel the water screaming by with land directly ahead staring down at you. Even with the GPS telling you that you have miles to spare it is a very spooky feeling. On Pam’s final watch she had me come up and assist her in changing course so she would not have to face the looming black hillside approach. As we sailed through the night we had a new sensation to contend with, huge jetliners were flying overhead and landing and departing Tahiti’s Faaa airport. On Pam’s watch a plane flew lower and closer to her than ever before. We were experiencing a little sensory overload as we had hardly heard a plane in the last month and a half and now we had them sounding as though they were about to land on top of Tournesol.
As the sun rose Tahiti was spread before us with sheer mountain peaks of brown and purple, steep and craggy. The mountains towered high and then plunged straight into the blue water. The island was absolutely beautiful. As we came even closer the landscape revealed lush green on hillsides and in the valleys. To our starboard was a flat section of the island and the Papeete harbor. Also to starboard was the wind and so we had to continually tack our way closer to the harbor entrance, gaining very gradual progress. It is funny how we can survive the monotony of a 31 day crossing but the last hours of a passage can drive us up the wall with anticipation. We read more Pat Henry while each minute crawled by. Finally we were a few miles from the harbor entrance ad we started to get the boat ready for our arrival. The entrance would bring us through a passage in the barrier reef and then into a busy foreign harbor. It amazes me every time we arrive to a destination that we will be looking for a spot on the earth we have never seen, with only a GPS and charts to assure us of the location of the bay or harbor. We were now less than two miles out and we could still see no sign of the entrance. This is normal for us but the tension always mounts. At one mile out we would start Tournesol’s sickly engine and dowse our sails, then bring the boat through the reef and hopefully to the quay. Once at the quay we would have to try our hand for the first time outside of sailing class at docking stern to or Med mooring the boat. Med mooring is a different strategy for docking boats where the boat is tied to a wharf from the stern and uses a bow anchor to stabilize the front of the boat. This tricky maneuver requires the crew to drop the hook and then back the boat up to the wharf. Tournesol does not like to back up, and she would be like a blind hippopotamus trying to back up and sit on a thimble, yikes! We reached the one mile point and I went below to start the engine. Now, we have existed for 43 days without any battery charging system to supply power other than our solar panels. When I turned the key the starter gave a great whine and shuttered but was just a hair to weak to turn over the engine. Each attempt to start the boat only weakened the batteries more and it became chillingly clear we were not going to have an engine to bring us at last into the harbor. We had the harbor entrance a mile away with only our sails to bring us through a reef in an unknown harbor. We considered our options and decided a tow was the only safe choice. I got on the radio and called the harbor master on VHF and quickly got a reply with a strong French accent. We explained we were visually impaired, on a boat with a disabled engine and would require a tow. You might think this would ruffle the feathers of most people, but the voice on the radio didn’t miss a beat and told us to come closer to the entrance and then standby for a tug. Neither Pam nor I wanted to get closer to a boat crunching coral reef but we followed instructions and carefully sailed closer, ready to tack away at any time. Sure enough as we approached the entrance we could finally see, a small tug came roaring up to us. There is nothing more disconcerting than having any boat bigger than yours come rushing up to you, but the crew of the Tahitian tug were real pros. They knew we could not see well and it became clear that language was going to be a barrier, but we managed to exchange lines, and get securely tied using very exaggerated hand signals. They then pulled us humbly into the Papeete harbor. When we reached the quay they side tied us to them without inflicting a single scratch on Tournesol and brought us near the quay. They instructed us to drop our anchor and they then backed us to the dock so we could tie off our stern lines. We reached Tahiti at 1330 local time. Our first Med mooring was not quite authentic, but we were tied off and could finally rest, get our engine sorted out, and experience all that the bustling city of Papeete had to offer. We were going to have to put on our brakes for a spell however, because the harbor master instructed us to stay on our boat and an official would be by to check us in, so we waited and then waited some more. While we cooled our jets we got the boat shipshape in the tropical heat and watched people meander by, with some pointing at our American flag or speaking in French with the occasional “San Francisco’ slipping out. It was a little like being at the zoo, but this time we were the lions in the cage. A German boat approached the quay to our port and though I was officially supposed to stay on the boat, I jumped on the quay to assist them with parking their 50 plus something beautiful blue hulled boat. At first their approach looked good, but they hesitated with their lines and success dwindled as they started to drift with a cross wind into innocent and tired little Tournesol. The husband was screaming in German at his wife, Pam was on the boat fending off the blue behemoth, and me and a growing group of sailors were trying to pull the brute off of Tournesol. Eventually they gave up and pulled away for a second attempt. In the end it took three attempts but our neighbor was finally tied to the quay, and Pam and I considered ourselves a little lucky for cheating on our arrival. We finally radioed the harbor master and they had apparently forgotten about us and it was now 1600. We were told we could check in later and we were finally given permission to leave the boat.
As we crawled onto the quay over our wind vane we were greeted by a couple from the boat Novia. Novia had been out in the Pacific with us during our crossing and we heard them almost daily on the Amego Net. We learned they were Ann and James and they told us we had come up and passed them on the crossing and they were shocked to learn we were also a 32’ boat and that they had envisioned us as a sleek 40’ something boat, and their egos were a little bruised. We confessed that we thought they were a big boat and that we were glad there were other little guys out crossing the Pacific with us. We agreed we should hook up later and Pam and I headed off to explore. Our first cultural shock occurred when we approached a crosswalk to cross the major highway running along the coastline and cars voluntarily and obediently stopped for us. If we were New Yorkers we would have instantly dropped dead from amazed shock. Apparently pedestrians have the right of way in Tahiti and it is effortless to cross busy intersections with no stop lights, a blind person’s paradise. I wanted to walk back across the street just to make the cars stop again, he-he. We wondered along the waterfront and explored, coming across a taxi stand. We decided that we would try to find Dragon Dor a Chinese food restraint that had been recommended to us in Nuku Hiva by our friend Antoni. The cab driver admitted the restaurant was walking distance and pointed us in the general direction. After a few more sets of directions we were seated in a dim and most importantly air-conditioned restaurant with yummy smells wafting from the kitchen. We ordered a ton of food with gusto. Then culture shock number two hit with all of the food arriving to the table at the same time in less than five minutes. Egg rolls, soup, and entries sat there smelling delicious competing for our attention. We ate until not a single grain of rice remained.
We waddled back towards the boat and then we ran into Novia again. This time we stood on the quay and gabbed for at least a half hour. They told us of the local geography and important things like where to check in, where the store was, and most importantly that there was a Mc Donald’s only a block away! Somehow the conversation turned to the crossing and food and they boldly admitted their love for canned corned beef, gross. After I recovered from my repulsion we offered to bequeath some of our corned beef to them and they actually offered to repay us with other food, hallelujah, McDonalds and no more corned beef. We also leaned they had had engine trouble and they were towed in by the same tug, we wee starting a regular 32’ engine failure club. We eventually said goodnight and climbed aboard Tournesol for a well deserved sleep. When sleep came it was the deep sleep of nothingness for this tired dog.
The evening of the 22nd turned out to be a small celebration of our eminent arrival in Papeete. First we were treated to a lovely bug shower before dinner. It always feels so nice to get the salt off your skin and to enjoy that squeaky clean feeling that comes from precious fresh water. Even though we had just made pasta with clams, we decided to repeat one of our favorite meals. The pasta was delicious and we even opened our last bottle of red wine that was tucked away under the nav seat. Dinner was eaten out of our big white non-skid bowls in the cockpit, with us each polishing off at least a pound of pasta covered in parmesan. The warm evening had a strangely calm feeling in the wind and as we finished up our celebratory meal the wind lulled to a whisper and the sails started to slat. Surely this was just a momentary lapse while the giant wind forces sighed and rested for a minute. We washed up and prepared for our watches and yet the wind never returned at any substantial force.
The winds grew to be so light and unpredictable we had to use the electric auto pilot to navigate while I slept. Normally we don’t have to fret about using the auto pilot, as it uses a very economic level of power, but now every amp counts. During my watch I hand steered Tournesol as we plodded along under full main and 80% jib. Our watches continued like this all night, with us making less than three knots an hour towards Tahiti.
The morning brought with it the beautiful island of Tahiti clearly in sight, but also came doubt of reaching Papeete before nightfall, we held our hopes high nonetheless. We spent the entire day taking turns hand steering and reading Pat Henry aloud. It began to feel exactly the same as it had when we were approaching Nuku Hiva. We were going to get close, but it soon became clear we would not arrive in Papeete today, so much for our dinner celebration the night before, but the pasta was yummy. As the sun started to set we mused about getting another dolphin visitation to consol us for languishing at sea just off of our destination. The dolphins never came but we were rewarded with the most spectacular sunset since the sky turned red off of Los Muertos. The sky turned a beautiful golden hue with dark clouds strung across the skyline and then the sky burst with reds and purples. We must have taken forty pictures of the beautiful sunset. When we finally complete this journey we are going to have millions of sunset photos.
We enjoyed the sunset but decided to skip dinner since nothing was going to come close to satisfying us as our pasta had the night before. As night approached we had only 21 miles to Papeete, normally a distance easily reached in a single night’s sail, but we had no expectations that could be jinxed, we were resigned to whatever the wind would offer up
Again we hand steered not wanting to sacrifice any progress with the wind vane and not using the power hungry auto pilot at all. Because we were hand steering our watches were two hours on and two off. When I came on for my second watch at midnight the wind suddenly kicked in with gusto. The moon with huge in the sky and the stars were out, I put on my headphones and the boat shot ahead. Unfortunately the wind was off our bow and we were going to have to tack our way into Papeete, but at least we were sailing again. The sails were illuminated from the moon and the wind was building to a steady twenty knots with water ripping along the hull and I was dancing in the cockpit listening to Billy Joel’s greatest hits blaring in my headphones while I enjoyed some of the best sailing of the entire voyage. When Pam’s watch came up I reluctantly gave her the wheel, a far cry from many other watches where desperate longing for sleep was the only thought on my mind. Pam continued the fun and hand steered to the headphones. We would tack at an angle taking us away from the island and out to sea, just to tack back with the island directly ahead with lights glistening on the black hills. It is unnerving to feel the water screaming by with land directly ahead staring down at you. Even with the GPS telling you that you have miles to spare it is a very spooky feeling. On Pam’s final watch she had me come up and assist her in changing course so she would not have to face the looming black hillside approach. As we sailed through the night we had a new sensation to contend with, huge jetliners were flying overhead and landing and departing Tahiti’s Faaa airport. On Pam’s watch a plane flew lower and closer to her than ever before. We were experiencing a little sensory overload as we had hardly heard a plane in the last month and a half and now we had them sounding as though they were about to land on top of Tournesol.
As the sun rose Tahiti was spread before us with sheer mountain peaks of brown and purple, steep and craggy. The mountains towered high and then plunged straight into the blue water. The island was absolutely beautiful. As we came even closer the landscape revealed lush green on hillsides and in the valleys. To our starboard was a flat section of the island and the Papeete harbor. Also to starboard was the wind and so we had to continually tack our way closer to the harbor entrance, gaining very gradual progress. It is funny how we can survive the monotony of a 31 day crossing but the last hours of a passage can drive us up the wall with anticipation. We read more Pat Henry while each minute crawled by. Finally we were a few miles from the harbor entrance ad we started to get the boat ready for our arrival. The entrance would bring us through a passage in the barrier reef and then into a busy foreign harbor. It amazes me every time we arrive to a destination that we will be looking for a spot on the earth we have never seen, with only a GPS and charts to assure us of the location of the bay or harbor. We were now less than two miles out and we could still see no sign of the entrance. This is normal for us but the tension always mounts. At one mile out we would start Tournesol’s sickly engine and dowse our sails, then bring the boat through the reef and hopefully to the quay. Once at the quay we would have to try our hand for the first time outside of sailing class at docking stern to or Med mooring the boat. Med mooring is a different strategy for docking boats where the boat is tied to a wharf from the stern and uses a bow anchor to stabilize the front of the boat. This tricky maneuver requires the crew to drop the hook and then back the boat up to the wharf. Tournesol does not like to back up, and she would be like a blind hippopotamus trying to back up and sit on a thimble, yikes! We reached the one mile point and I went below to start the engine. Now, we have existed for 43 days without any battery charging system to supply power other than our solar panels. When I turned the key the starter gave a great whine and shuttered but was just a hair to weak to turn over the engine. Each attempt to start the boat only weakened the batteries more and it became chillingly clear we were not going to have an engine to bring us at last into the harbor. We had the harbor entrance a mile away with only our sails to bring us through a reef in an unknown harbor. We considered our options and decided a tow was the only safe choice. I got on the radio and called the harbor master on VHF and quickly got a reply with a strong French accent. We explained we were visually impaired, on a boat with a disabled engine and would require a tow. You might think this would ruffle the feathers of most people, but the voice on the radio didn’t miss a beat and told us to come closer to the entrance and then standby for a tug. Neither Pam nor I wanted to get closer to a boat crunching coral reef but we followed instructions and carefully sailed closer, ready to tack away at any time. Sure enough as we approached the entrance we could finally see, a small tug came roaring up to us. There is nothing more disconcerting than having any boat bigger than yours come rushing up to you, but the crew of the Tahitian tug were real pros. They knew we could not see well and it became clear that language was going to be a barrier, but we managed to exchange lines, and get securely tied using very exaggerated hand signals. They then pulled us humbly into the Papeete harbor. When we reached the quay they side tied us to them without inflicting a single scratch on Tournesol and brought us near the quay. They instructed us to drop our anchor and they then backed us to the dock so we could tie off our stern lines. We reached Tahiti at 1330 local time. Our first Med mooring was not quite authentic, but we were tied off and could finally rest, get our engine sorted out, and experience all that the bustling city of Papeete had to offer. We were going to have to put on our brakes for a spell however, because the harbor master instructed us to stay on our boat and an official would be by to check us in, so we waited and then waited some more. While we cooled our jets we got the boat shipshape in the tropical heat and watched people meander by, with some pointing at our American flag or speaking in French with the occasional “San Francisco’ slipping out. It was a little like being at the zoo, but this time we were the lions in the cage. A German boat approached the quay to our port and though I was officially supposed to stay on the boat, I jumped on the quay to assist them with parking their 50 plus something beautiful blue hulled boat. At first their approach looked good, but they hesitated with their lines and success dwindled as they started to drift with a cross wind into innocent and tired little Tournesol. The husband was screaming in German at his wife, Pam was on the boat fending off the blue behemoth, and me and a growing group of sailors were trying to pull the brute off of Tournesol. Eventually they gave up and pulled away for a second attempt. In the end it took three attempts but our neighbor was finally tied to the quay, and Pam and I considered ourselves a little lucky for cheating on our arrival. We finally radioed the harbor master and they had apparently forgotten about us and it was now 1600. We were told we could check in later and we were finally given permission to leave the boat.
As we crawled onto the quay over our wind vane we were greeted by a couple from the boat Novia. Novia had been out in the Pacific with us during our crossing and we heard them almost daily on the Amego Net. We learned they were Ann and James and they told us we had come up and passed them on the crossing and they were shocked to learn we were also a 32’ boat and that they had envisioned us as a sleek 40’ something boat, and their egos were a little bruised. We confessed that we thought they were a big boat and that we were glad there were other little guys out crossing the Pacific with us. We agreed we should hook up later and Pam and I headed off to explore. Our first cultural shock occurred when we approached a crosswalk to cross the major highway running along the coastline and cars voluntarily and obediently stopped for us. If we were New Yorkers we would have instantly dropped dead from amazed shock. Apparently pedestrians have the right of way in Tahiti and it is effortless to cross busy intersections with no stop lights, a blind person’s paradise. I wanted to walk back across the street just to make the cars stop again, he-he. We wondered along the waterfront and explored, coming across a taxi stand. We decided that we would try to find Dragon Dor a Chinese food restraint that had been recommended to us in Nuku Hiva by our friend Antoni. The cab driver admitted the restaurant was walking distance and pointed us in the general direction. After a few more sets of directions we were seated in a dim and most importantly air-conditioned restaurant with yummy smells wafting from the kitchen. We ordered a ton of food with gusto. Then culture shock number two hit with all of the food arriving to the table at the same time in less than five minutes. Egg rolls, soup, and entries sat there smelling delicious competing for our attention. We ate until not a single grain of rice remained.
We waddled back towards the boat and then we ran into Novia again. This time we stood on the quay and gabbed for at least a half hour. They told us of the local geography and important things like where to check in, where the store was, and most importantly that there was a Mc Donald’s only a block away! Somehow the conversation turned to the crossing and food and they boldly admitted their love for canned corned beef, gross. After I recovered from my repulsion we offered to bequeath some of our corned beef to them and they actually offered to repay us with other food, hallelujah, McDonalds and no more corned beef. We also leaned they had had engine trouble and they were towed in by the same tug, we wee starting a regular 32’ engine failure club. We eventually said goodnight and climbed aboard Tournesol for a well deserved sleep. When sleep came it was the deep sleep of nothingness for this tired dog.
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
Journal Entry June 22, 2005 The Tuamotu Pass and The Storm
Author: Scott
As I sit here writing this journal entry it is around 1400 local time, the sun is scorching down on us, and we are making a little over one knot of boat speed. I just asked out of nowhere where the ice cream was. Pam looked at me as though I was from Mars but now we can’t get the idea out of our heads. Pam will have the chocolate chip and I will have my old La Paz standby of coconut and chocolate please. How is it possible that we are traveling so slowly today when this entire trip has been such a wild high speed whirlwind?
Early yesterday morning we made the decision to “go for it”! We had originally planned to skirt the entire Tuomoto island group because of the many low atolls. Atolls are formed when volcanic activity that has produced an island or dome ceases and very slowly erosion breaks down the island structure back down to the sea. This process takes so long to occur that while the island thrives, above the surface reefs made from millions of sea creatures including coral polyps build to surround the island. As the island continues to decay and sink under the surface it leaves a lagoon in the middle of the reefs that had surrounded the island. This sometimes complete and often partial ring that is left behind is an island atoll. These atolls are often covered with rich soil and make a perfect home for the growth of the coconut palm tree. To a sighted sailor, waves crashing on the low lying reefs of the atoll and coconut trees rising out of the ocean are often the only signs to indicate they are approaching an atoll island, and neither of these visual signs are visible to us. Therefore, we are very cautions of atolls. After carefully assessing the charts and talking to cruisers in Nuku Hiva, I learned there was a twenty mile channel between the island atolls of Rangiroa and Arutua that would literally serve as a clear path through the center of the Tuamotu group and save us at least a day at sea and provide far superior winds on our way to Tahiti. Twenty miles sounds like a lot but when you are legally blind, have no local knowledge, and only hare charts and a few cruising guides to help direct your decision, you don’t make any decision lightly. Another factor to consider was the very limited use of our radar while we are on such a power budget due to our sick engine. On the positive side we have a great GPS plotter, and we could use our engine if it was absolutely necessary to continuously use radar or to avoid anything if we got too close. Taking all of this into consideration we decided it would be safe to take the twenty mile pass. The wind was blowing near twenty knots and we were sailing a close hulled under a single reefed main with our gennoa reefed down to about 60%. Almost immediately we started to wonder if we could endure the barrage of noises and pounding that would be necessary to navigate the pass up wind. I fell off the wind slightly after an hour and this minimized the noises and ruckus caused from beating into the wind. Most of the trip was sailed well over six knots with almost constant vigilance given to the GPS. The result was a perfect sail through the Tuamotu Archipelago under a blazing full moon without even a single tack needed to shoot the channel. We were thrilled. Even though this might be only a minor navigational accomplishment for most sailors, for us it was nail biting triumph. When and if we sail to Tonga or Fiji, our challenges will be far greater and require rock solid navigation, but for us our trip through the Tuamotus was a great confidence builder.
To crown our victory or maybe it was to quell our ego a bit Neptune then threw out our most challenging weather to date. As we came tearing through the pass our pace continued into morning. As dawn broke the surrounding clouds massed behind us in huge heaps of dreary murk, our boat speed increased with the signs usually associated with a squall, but this was no squall coming. We were already sailing under a conservative sail plan and did not feel a sail change would be necessary. Soon we were enveloped in rain, wind, and spookiness of all, large waves that were hammering against the port bow. We had checked the weather the prior day using software that allows us to see both a weather chart and gives us a textual weather report, and though I saw a stationary front, I saw nothing to indicate what we were currently having dished out to us. We had the good sense to move the computer from the nav station but since we had never had a good swamping we still left a number of other items sitting out in the open. Before we knew it we had waves breaking over the cap rails, and finally over the dog house and we had to close up our companionway with our hatch boards due to weather for the first time ever. A large wave hit on the port side and caused the wind vane to jibe the boat, which was mercifully minimized with our boom brake, but it was time to let Hans take a break and I suited up in PFD, tether, and harness to brave the wind and rain. No sooner had I come on deck and taken over the steering than we got our biggest swamping ever. A wall of warm green water hit me above the head and crashed down into the cockpit sending me sprawling forward. I managed to catch on the combing on the opposite side of the cockpit, and the emotion my body chose to serve up to handle this experience was a cackle. It hit me that I was both a little scared and having the time of my life at the same instant. Thank goodness for my tether. The next thirty minutes spent at the wheel felt like two hours with wave after wave breaking on the boat and water either sloshing in the cockpit or showering down over the dodger. Pam was down below providing water triage to the soaked interior of Tournesol. Eventually the weather subsided to a fresh and steady breeze and I was able to relinquish control back to the wind vane. Just prior to arrival of the storm, I had made a cup of tea that I was not able to bring outside with me. As I reentered the cabin I was treated to my warm and soothing drink that I had no way of knowing while I prepared it, just how wonderful it would eventually be.
The remainder of the day was spent under cloudy skies insulting our need to charge our batteries with our solar panels. I made an early dinner of clam chowder while Pam read out loud. When dinner and dishes were complete I headed to bed early, exhausted from our triumph of the Tuamotus and our stormy morning.
So here I am today at the computer amazed at how fickle the weather can be. All day it has been hot with teasingly little wind and flat seas. There is a bug shower in today’s future, though the name bug shower now creeps me out a little with Pam’s visit from our I’m sure one and only friend the other day. If anything our bug visitor has made us even more fanatical about keeping Tournesol clean, even if our friend originated as hitchhiker on a piece of fruit from Nuku Hiva. So I will sign off now with only 60 miles to go and hoping our next Journal entry will be from the exciting and unknown to us port of Pepeete Tahita.
As I sit here writing this journal entry it is around 1400 local time, the sun is scorching down on us, and we are making a little over one knot of boat speed. I just asked out of nowhere where the ice cream was. Pam looked at me as though I was from Mars but now we can’t get the idea out of our heads. Pam will have the chocolate chip and I will have my old La Paz standby of coconut and chocolate please. How is it possible that we are traveling so slowly today when this entire trip has been such a wild high speed whirlwind?
Early yesterday morning we made the decision to “go for it”! We had originally planned to skirt the entire Tuomoto island group because of the many low atolls. Atolls are formed when volcanic activity that has produced an island or dome ceases and very slowly erosion breaks down the island structure back down to the sea. This process takes so long to occur that while the island thrives, above the surface reefs made from millions of sea creatures including coral polyps build to surround the island. As the island continues to decay and sink under the surface it leaves a lagoon in the middle of the reefs that had surrounded the island. This sometimes complete and often partial ring that is left behind is an island atoll. These atolls are often covered with rich soil and make a perfect home for the growth of the coconut palm tree. To a sighted sailor, waves crashing on the low lying reefs of the atoll and coconut trees rising out of the ocean are often the only signs to indicate they are approaching an atoll island, and neither of these visual signs are visible to us. Therefore, we are very cautions of atolls. After carefully assessing the charts and talking to cruisers in Nuku Hiva, I learned there was a twenty mile channel between the island atolls of Rangiroa and Arutua that would literally serve as a clear path through the center of the Tuamotu group and save us at least a day at sea and provide far superior winds on our way to Tahiti. Twenty miles sounds like a lot but when you are legally blind, have no local knowledge, and only hare charts and a few cruising guides to help direct your decision, you don’t make any decision lightly. Another factor to consider was the very limited use of our radar while we are on such a power budget due to our sick engine. On the positive side we have a great GPS plotter, and we could use our engine if it was absolutely necessary to continuously use radar or to avoid anything if we got too close. Taking all of this into consideration we decided it would be safe to take the twenty mile pass. The wind was blowing near twenty knots and we were sailing a close hulled under a single reefed main with our gennoa reefed down to about 60%. Almost immediately we started to wonder if we could endure the barrage of noises and pounding that would be necessary to navigate the pass up wind. I fell off the wind slightly after an hour and this minimized the noises and ruckus caused from beating into the wind. Most of the trip was sailed well over six knots with almost constant vigilance given to the GPS. The result was a perfect sail through the Tuamotu Archipelago under a blazing full moon without even a single tack needed to shoot the channel. We were thrilled. Even though this might be only a minor navigational accomplishment for most sailors, for us it was nail biting triumph. When and if we sail to Tonga or Fiji, our challenges will be far greater and require rock solid navigation, but for us our trip through the Tuamotus was a great confidence builder.
To crown our victory or maybe it was to quell our ego a bit Neptune then threw out our most challenging weather to date. As we came tearing through the pass our pace continued into morning. As dawn broke the surrounding clouds massed behind us in huge heaps of dreary murk, our boat speed increased with the signs usually associated with a squall, but this was no squall coming. We were already sailing under a conservative sail plan and did not feel a sail change would be necessary. Soon we were enveloped in rain, wind, and spookiness of all, large waves that were hammering against the port bow. We had checked the weather the prior day using software that allows us to see both a weather chart and gives us a textual weather report, and though I saw a stationary front, I saw nothing to indicate what we were currently having dished out to us. We had the good sense to move the computer from the nav station but since we had never had a good swamping we still left a number of other items sitting out in the open. Before we knew it we had waves breaking over the cap rails, and finally over the dog house and we had to close up our companionway with our hatch boards due to weather for the first time ever. A large wave hit on the port side and caused the wind vane to jibe the boat, which was mercifully minimized with our boom brake, but it was time to let Hans take a break and I suited up in PFD, tether, and harness to brave the wind and rain. No sooner had I come on deck and taken over the steering than we got our biggest swamping ever. A wall of warm green water hit me above the head and crashed down into the cockpit sending me sprawling forward. I managed to catch on the combing on the opposite side of the cockpit, and the emotion my body chose to serve up to handle this experience was a cackle. It hit me that I was both a little scared and having the time of my life at the same instant. Thank goodness for my tether. The next thirty minutes spent at the wheel felt like two hours with wave after wave breaking on the boat and water either sloshing in the cockpit or showering down over the dodger. Pam was down below providing water triage to the soaked interior of Tournesol. Eventually the weather subsided to a fresh and steady breeze and I was able to relinquish control back to the wind vane. Just prior to arrival of the storm, I had made a cup of tea that I was not able to bring outside with me. As I reentered the cabin I was treated to my warm and soothing drink that I had no way of knowing while I prepared it, just how wonderful it would eventually be.
The remainder of the day was spent under cloudy skies insulting our need to charge our batteries with our solar panels. I made an early dinner of clam chowder while Pam read out loud. When dinner and dishes were complete I headed to bed early, exhausted from our triumph of the Tuamotus and our stormy morning.
So here I am today at the computer amazed at how fickle the weather can be. All day it has been hot with teasingly little wind and flat seas. There is a bug shower in today’s future, though the name bug shower now creeps me out a little with Pam’s visit from our I’m sure one and only friend the other day. If anything our bug visitor has made us even more fanatical about keeping Tournesol clean, even if our friend originated as hitchhiker on a piece of fruit from Nuku Hiva. So I will sign off now with only 60 miles to go and hoping our next Journal entry will be from the exciting and unknown to us port of Pepeete Tahita.
Monday, June 20, 2005
Journal Entry June 20, 2005 Passage to Tahiti
Author: Pam
One mystery has been solved. In the early morning on Friday we passed another brightly lit stationary “city” in the middle of nowhere. We learned from Sally and Don after sharing our encounter on the crossing with the mysterious Atlantis like station that it was in fact a squid boat. Apparently they use bright lights to lure the squids into flying onto the boat or into nets. We are not sure how it works exactly, but it is strange to encounter one when you haven’t seen anything for days. Apparently they are very popular off the coast of Asia. We saw another one on Saturday night. We joked about stopping by to see if they had any ice to spare, since ours has melted.
It has been interesting being back to sea. We were both ready to leave Nuku Hiva and move on to the many other beautiful islands in the South Pacific. The weather has been a mixture of sun and clouds. The wind has been very good and we have averaged 6 to 7 knots of boat speed much of the time. We have also had the ever present waves to go with this wind. It was fairly calm on Sunday, but otherwise the boat has been rolling and bumping over, under and up against waves. We have once again spent a fair amount of time down below, it has either been too hot in the cockpit or too wet with the waves crashing over the rail.
We have both been fairly lethargic as well. We mulled this over on Sunday and decided though we had a nice time on Nuku Hiva it really wasn’t quite the relaxing landfall after 31 days at sea as we had expected, with the distraction of the engine, the outboard and of course our workout ferrying water. However, this does not mean we did not immensely enjoy our mini vacation on land. We have been reading ferociously, I read two books in four days, this may be a record for me. We also started reading “By the Grace of the Sea” by Pat Henry. We had the pleasure of meeting her in Puerto Vallarta. She was the first American woman to complete a solo circumnavigation via the canals. She left Acapulco, Mexico when she was 48 years old and completed her journey in eight years. It has been fun reading about her puddle jump and experience in the South Pacific. We have found we are having many parallel challenges and experiences and look forward to visiting the places she describes in the South Pacific and around the world.
On the critter front, it looks like there will be one for the duration of this trip. I have been nursing my many no-no bites. They found me quite tasty and they left nasty bites that takes quite a while to go away. There is no fish report, Scott has not thrown the line over yet. It looks like (though you hate to put it in writing) that we may finally have the dreaded coch roaches or coch roach in this case. I left the serving spoon for the rice on the counter and when I came back down below and turned on the light to wash the dishes something small, black and really fast scurried behind the stove. I would like to think it was a sun spot left over from the day, but it sure behaved like a shhhh don’t say it. Early on we learned there are two kinds of cruising boats, the ones that get bugs and the ones that lie and say they never have had any bugs. Perhaps I didn’t drown the coconuts for long enough. In any event we immediately put out four traps in our little galley, we figure more is definitely better and we have not seen another one since.
On the second night we ate our second and final fresh meal of the passage. I rubbed garlic, black pepper and olive oil on the four small pork chops and cooked them in a frying pan. They were really good, too bad it was too wild to BBQ. On the third night we had my favorite non fresh dinner, pasta with clams. I could eat that everyday, especially when it gets down to some of the other canned delicacies. Scott tackled one of the pamplemousse (note spelling correction) with gusto. He cut it in half and then cut around the edge to dislodge the giant portion of citrus. He basically dissected it in the end, but the pieces were large and very yummy. It is definitely sweeter than grapefruit in the states, I even thought it tasted a bit like blackberries. We are still uncertain of the proper way to eat this intriguing fruit, but it looks like we will enjoy the four we have left.
The nights have been absolutely beautiful, with a nearly full moon to guide us. Before leaving for the crossing I hadn’t given much thought to the terms “puddle jump” or crossing the “pond”. Now that I have experienced being out here I have become fascinated with feeling like we are always in the middle of a puddle, pond or a bowl as Pat Henry referred to it. You always feel like there is a perfect circle drawn around you. I wonder how much smaller our circle looks to us then someone with normal sight?
One mystery has been solved. In the early morning on Friday we passed another brightly lit stationary “city” in the middle of nowhere. We learned from Sally and Don after sharing our encounter on the crossing with the mysterious Atlantis like station that it was in fact a squid boat. Apparently they use bright lights to lure the squids into flying onto the boat or into nets. We are not sure how it works exactly, but it is strange to encounter one when you haven’t seen anything for days. Apparently they are very popular off the coast of Asia. We saw another one on Saturday night. We joked about stopping by to see if they had any ice to spare, since ours has melted.
It has been interesting being back to sea. We were both ready to leave Nuku Hiva and move on to the many other beautiful islands in the South Pacific. The weather has been a mixture of sun and clouds. The wind has been very good and we have averaged 6 to 7 knots of boat speed much of the time. We have also had the ever present waves to go with this wind. It was fairly calm on Sunday, but otherwise the boat has been rolling and bumping over, under and up against waves. We have once again spent a fair amount of time down below, it has either been too hot in the cockpit or too wet with the waves crashing over the rail.
We have both been fairly lethargic as well. We mulled this over on Sunday and decided though we had a nice time on Nuku Hiva it really wasn’t quite the relaxing landfall after 31 days at sea as we had expected, with the distraction of the engine, the outboard and of course our workout ferrying water. However, this does not mean we did not immensely enjoy our mini vacation on land. We have been reading ferociously, I read two books in four days, this may be a record for me. We also started reading “By the Grace of the Sea” by Pat Henry. We had the pleasure of meeting her in Puerto Vallarta. She was the first American woman to complete a solo circumnavigation via the canals. She left Acapulco, Mexico when she was 48 years old and completed her journey in eight years. It has been fun reading about her puddle jump and experience in the South Pacific. We have found we are having many parallel challenges and experiences and look forward to visiting the places she describes in the South Pacific and around the world.
On the critter front, it looks like there will be one for the duration of this trip. I have been nursing my many no-no bites. They found me quite tasty and they left nasty bites that takes quite a while to go away. There is no fish report, Scott has not thrown the line over yet. It looks like (though you hate to put it in writing) that we may finally have the dreaded coch roaches or coch roach in this case. I left the serving spoon for the rice on the counter and when I came back down below and turned on the light to wash the dishes something small, black and really fast scurried behind the stove. I would like to think it was a sun spot left over from the day, but it sure behaved like a shhhh don’t say it. Early on we learned there are two kinds of cruising boats, the ones that get bugs and the ones that lie and say they never have had any bugs. Perhaps I didn’t drown the coconuts for long enough. In any event we immediately put out four traps in our little galley, we figure more is definitely better and we have not seen another one since.
On the second night we ate our second and final fresh meal of the passage. I rubbed garlic, black pepper and olive oil on the four small pork chops and cooked them in a frying pan. They were really good, too bad it was too wild to BBQ. On the third night we had my favorite non fresh dinner, pasta with clams. I could eat that everyday, especially when it gets down to some of the other canned delicacies. Scott tackled one of the pamplemousse (note spelling correction) with gusto. He cut it in half and then cut around the edge to dislodge the giant portion of citrus. He basically dissected it in the end, but the pieces were large and very yummy. It is definitely sweeter than grapefruit in the states, I even thought it tasted a bit like blackberries. We are still uncertain of the proper way to eat this intriguing fruit, but it looks like we will enjoy the four we have left.
The nights have been absolutely beautiful, with a nearly full moon to guide us. Before leaving for the crossing I hadn’t given much thought to the terms “puddle jump” or crossing the “pond”. Now that I have experienced being out here I have become fascinated with feeling like we are always in the middle of a puddle, pond or a bowl as Pat Henry referred to it. You always feel like there is a perfect circle drawn around you. I wonder how much smaller our circle looks to us then someone with normal sight?
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Journal Entry – June 16 – Departure Note
We left Nuku Hiva today for Papeete Tahiti, we may take a quick trip to Rangiroa in the Tuamotu Archipelago. Papeete is about 760 miles from Nuku Hiva. We will be posting position reports along the way. We will continue to post our Journal entries in chronological order; we should be caught up in a few days.
Journal Entry – June 15, 2005 – Last Full Day on Nuku Hiva
Author: Scott
Today was our last full day on Nuku Hiva. On prior days we had schlepped 70 gallons of rat water onto the boat and we now have 36 bottles of drinking water, so we are done with the water provisioning. Today we focused on acquiring fresh food provisions and completing all the necessary boat chores to depart. Our first order of business was to tidy up the boat for departing. On deck we disassembled and stowed the giant rain catcher, which never got a chance to be used for anything other than a sun shade. We moved the ice chest from its strapped down position in front of the mast, to be used in the cockpit until we ran out of ice. We cleaned down below and Pam stowed the water and fresh fruits.
With these chores complete we took the dinghy to the quay (without any major engine trouble). Once on land I immediately realized I had left my shoes on the boat, and not wanting to temp fate with the dinghy I decided when in Nuku Hiva do as the locals do and I carried on with bare feet. Our first stop on land was to return to the Gendarmerie to check out. Our checking out experience was much smoother than checking in. We simply gave our boat name, they verified that we only had two crew, and we were told we could leave. Wow! That was it, no other formalities necessary. Next we headed almost all the way around the bay to the little food truck we learned about on our tour with Don and Sally. We had gotten assistance from Marianne back at the hotel, and had a translated copy of their offerings. Unfortunately, they did not have any of the items we originally intended on purchasing but after a conversation in Frenqlish with the owner we managed to procure an already roasted chicken and four small uncooked frozen pork chops. The trip to the food truck was greatly improved with my order of a pineapple milkshake, it was divine! We then rushed over to the local store we visited a few days earlier so we could buy ice and onions before they closed for the lunch break. Most business on Nuku Hiva close between 1130 and 1430 for a lunch period similar to the Mexican siesta. We made it with time to spare only to find out that they did not have ice, but they still had Pam’s prize onions that she had been coveting since our last visit. What we did not realize is those all important onions were going to cause a big hole in our day. You see since we could not get ice at this store, we were going to have to kill three hours until we could visit the other stores after the lunch break. So, our fresh items would have to hold out until we could get some ice, but Pam had remembered to bring our insulated cooler bags along so our food items would make it without any loses.
We decided we would eat lunch at Moana Nui (the egg pizza place), but no pizza is served at lunchtime. Pam had citrus chicken and I had a chef salad, both meals were well prepared, but eating only took about forty five minutes so we were forced to languish in the warm tropical breeze with Hinano (Tahitian beer) to wet our whistles. We endured this torture until the real torture of the no-no’s drove Pam from the restaurant. We then walked across the road and settled on a big lava rock to watch the local kids surfing in the large breakers that spectacularly crash along the rock strewn shore. Just why weren’t these kids in school, and did their parents know they were surfing on a shore with perilous rocks just a few feet from where they were swimming? I thought to myself that this was just what I would have been doing when I was a boy living in Santa Monica. We sat and watched enjoying the lovely weather and energy of the kids surfing until we had finally eaten up most of our waiting period for the store to reopen so we could get our ice. We returned to the scene of the crime where I returned the exorbitant $60 case of beer. When I asked for ice the clerk slid open a cooler and pulled out bags of crushed ice that looked suspiciously as though they had been made of frozen tap water. I asked if the ice could be used for cooking and drinking and she replied that yes it was safe. We paid $6 for three little bags of ice, cooled off our other purchases, and returned to the dinghy.
Glad to be back on the water and off my feet in Polynesian training. We had no problems with our dinghy returning to the boat. We put our purchases away and made ready for a visit from Stephan and his girlfriend Gorete, who we had invited over for a little farewell get together. I noticed as I stowed the ice in the ice chest that our supposedly clean ice was not only made of tap water, but it was dirty water. There would be no using this ice for cooking or drinks, and it cold only be used for keeping things cold. We put together a few appetizers of chips and salsa, and we even sacrificed the one and only sacred jicama from Mexico. I mixed up some margaritas and we were soon joined by our new friends. Gorete is Brazilian and though she speaks French, Portuguese and Spanish fluently she knows very little English. Gorete managed the conversation with no problem and we all had a nice night under a nearly full moon. I was able to finally verify the shape and location of the Southern Cross and Stephan also showed us how to find the Scorpion constellation. Our guests left around 2000 and Pam and I had a snack and then hit the hay after a long day on Nuku Hiva.
Today was our last full day on Nuku Hiva. On prior days we had schlepped 70 gallons of rat water onto the boat and we now have 36 bottles of drinking water, so we are done with the water provisioning. Today we focused on acquiring fresh food provisions and completing all the necessary boat chores to depart. Our first order of business was to tidy up the boat for departing. On deck we disassembled and stowed the giant rain catcher, which never got a chance to be used for anything other than a sun shade. We moved the ice chest from its strapped down position in front of the mast, to be used in the cockpit until we ran out of ice. We cleaned down below and Pam stowed the water and fresh fruits.
With these chores complete we took the dinghy to the quay (without any major engine trouble). Once on land I immediately realized I had left my shoes on the boat, and not wanting to temp fate with the dinghy I decided when in Nuku Hiva do as the locals do and I carried on with bare feet. Our first stop on land was to return to the Gendarmerie to check out. Our checking out experience was much smoother than checking in. We simply gave our boat name, they verified that we only had two crew, and we were told we could leave. Wow! That was it, no other formalities necessary. Next we headed almost all the way around the bay to the little food truck we learned about on our tour with Don and Sally. We had gotten assistance from Marianne back at the hotel, and had a translated copy of their offerings. Unfortunately, they did not have any of the items we originally intended on purchasing but after a conversation in Frenqlish with the owner we managed to procure an already roasted chicken and four small uncooked frozen pork chops. The trip to the food truck was greatly improved with my order of a pineapple milkshake, it was divine! We then rushed over to the local store we visited a few days earlier so we could buy ice and onions before they closed for the lunch break. Most business on Nuku Hiva close between 1130 and 1430 for a lunch period similar to the Mexican siesta. We made it with time to spare only to find out that they did not have ice, but they still had Pam’s prize onions that she had been coveting since our last visit. What we did not realize is those all important onions were going to cause a big hole in our day. You see since we could not get ice at this store, we were going to have to kill three hours until we could visit the other stores after the lunch break. So, our fresh items would have to hold out until we could get some ice, but Pam had remembered to bring our insulated cooler bags along so our food items would make it without any loses.
We decided we would eat lunch at Moana Nui (the egg pizza place), but no pizza is served at lunchtime. Pam had citrus chicken and I had a chef salad, both meals were well prepared, but eating only took about forty five minutes so we were forced to languish in the warm tropical breeze with Hinano (Tahitian beer) to wet our whistles. We endured this torture until the real torture of the no-no’s drove Pam from the restaurant. We then walked across the road and settled on a big lava rock to watch the local kids surfing in the large breakers that spectacularly crash along the rock strewn shore. Just why weren’t these kids in school, and did their parents know they were surfing on a shore with perilous rocks just a few feet from where they were swimming? I thought to myself that this was just what I would have been doing when I was a boy living in Santa Monica. We sat and watched enjoying the lovely weather and energy of the kids surfing until we had finally eaten up most of our waiting period for the store to reopen so we could get our ice. We returned to the scene of the crime where I returned the exorbitant $60 case of beer. When I asked for ice the clerk slid open a cooler and pulled out bags of crushed ice that looked suspiciously as though they had been made of frozen tap water. I asked if the ice could be used for cooking and drinking and she replied that yes it was safe. We paid $6 for three little bags of ice, cooled off our other purchases, and returned to the dinghy.
Glad to be back on the water and off my feet in Polynesian training. We had no problems with our dinghy returning to the boat. We put our purchases away and made ready for a visit from Stephan and his girlfriend Gorete, who we had invited over for a little farewell get together. I noticed as I stowed the ice in the ice chest that our supposedly clean ice was not only made of tap water, but it was dirty water. There would be no using this ice for cooking or drinks, and it cold only be used for keeping things cold. We put together a few appetizers of chips and salsa, and we even sacrificed the one and only sacred jicama from Mexico. I mixed up some margaritas and we were soon joined by our new friends. Gorete is Brazilian and though she speaks French, Portuguese and Spanish fluently she knows very little English. Gorete managed the conversation with no problem and we all had a nice night under a nearly full moon. I was able to finally verify the shape and location of the Southern Cross and Stephan also showed us how to find the Scorpion constellation. Our guests left around 2000 and Pam and I had a snack and then hit the hay after a long day on Nuku Hiva.
Journal Entry – June 16, 2005 Goodbye Nuku Hiva
Author: Scott
We awoke ready to leave. We were a little sad to say goodbye to the place we had spent so much time anticipating on the crossing but it was time to move on now. It was interesting how this place that was such a mystery to us on our trip from Mexico felt so well know to us now. In twelve short days we had managed to meet a number of great people, pamper ourselves at the hotel, reacquaint ourselves with food that does not come out of a can and even find a temporary solution for our engine trouble. There will be much to remember on Nuku Hiva and unlike Mexico it is likely that neither of us will make it to this remote spot again, but I guess you never know for sure.
We made final preparations to depart, stowed the dinghy and outboard, lashed everything down, and put everything it its place. I had a little setback when checking the engine I noticed the new belt we had used to drive the alternator had twisted requiring me to completely remove it and then install it again. This was not the setback; the problem came when the boat rolled and all my tools and screws flew off the counter into the engine compartment and required a massive hunt that took nearly two hours.
It was now past noon and with a little trepidation we fired up the engine and proceeded to hoist the anchor. Pam steered us out of the bay with me giving directions from the bow and we emerged into a fresh fifteen knots of easterly wind. We made it out onto the sea with no problem and Stephan’s exterior pump worked like a charm. We will still only use the engine whenever it is absolutely necessary but we have much more confidence than we did upon arrival. We logged our actual departure time as 1350 local time.
As we settled into our life back on the sea we were immediately plunged back into the conditions we had become accustomed to on our crossing. The trades continued to blow an average of 14 knots with waves large enough to occasionally dowse the cockpit and one open hatch. We were sea creatures again! We settled into our respective books and read until the sun began to set. Dinner was our freshly roasted chicken purchased the prior day with rice and corn. After dinner we relaxed in the cockpit enjoying some “chill time” with our Puddle Jump CD that got so much play during our crossing. The moon was nearly full and all the stars were out in full force. The water was brilliantly lit with flashes of white water glowing from the moonlight. .
We awoke ready to leave. We were a little sad to say goodbye to the place we had spent so much time anticipating on the crossing but it was time to move on now. It was interesting how this place that was such a mystery to us on our trip from Mexico felt so well know to us now. In twelve short days we had managed to meet a number of great people, pamper ourselves at the hotel, reacquaint ourselves with food that does not come out of a can and even find a temporary solution for our engine trouble. There will be much to remember on Nuku Hiva and unlike Mexico it is likely that neither of us will make it to this remote spot again, but I guess you never know for sure.
We made final preparations to depart, stowed the dinghy and outboard, lashed everything down, and put everything it its place. I had a little setback when checking the engine I noticed the new belt we had used to drive the alternator had twisted requiring me to completely remove it and then install it again. This was not the setback; the problem came when the boat rolled and all my tools and screws flew off the counter into the engine compartment and required a massive hunt that took nearly two hours.
It was now past noon and with a little trepidation we fired up the engine and proceeded to hoist the anchor. Pam steered us out of the bay with me giving directions from the bow and we emerged into a fresh fifteen knots of easterly wind. We made it out onto the sea with no problem and Stephan’s exterior pump worked like a charm. We will still only use the engine whenever it is absolutely necessary but we have much more confidence than we did upon arrival. We logged our actual departure time as 1350 local time.
As we settled into our life back on the sea we were immediately plunged back into the conditions we had become accustomed to on our crossing. The trades continued to blow an average of 14 knots with waves large enough to occasionally dowse the cockpit and one open hatch. We were sea creatures again! We settled into our respective books and read until the sun began to set. Dinner was our freshly roasted chicken purchased the prior day with rice and corn. After dinner we relaxed in the cockpit enjoying some “chill time” with our Puddle Jump CD that got so much play during our crossing. The moon was nearly full and all the stars were out in full force. The water was brilliantly lit with flashes of white water glowing from the moonlight. .
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Journal Entry June 14, 2005 Limes, Coconuts and Pomplumousse
Author: Pam
As planned we rowed out and back and checked out of the hotel. When we were leaving the hotel we ran into Marianne, she is the head waitress and had been very nice to us. We had brought some stickers and bubble gum to give to her for her five daughters and we were planning to look for her on our way back down the hill (her house is on the way). Before leaving the hotel she gave us a big bag of ice and said she would meet us at our dinghy with some fruit she wanted to give to us. We waited a little while and she hadn’t come yet, so Scott rowed out to the boat again with the last of the water (we schlepped 70 gallons in total) and to meet Stephan who was coming by to start the engine to see if the pump was going to work. On his way out Stephan came by and gave him a tow to the boat. They tried the pump and found only one small leak that Stephan said would be no problem to fix. In the meantime, Marianne came down to the beach carrying a bucket of limes from the tree in her yard, two coconuts (Scott is anxious to try the juice of a young coconut, I don’t care for it) and five pomplumousse. What is pomplumousse? It is a large green grapefruit about the size of a soccer ball. They are sweeter, but still taste like grapefruit. They are huge and I have not figured out how two people eat one. The pomplumousse is our first new fruit or vegetable experience. While chatting with Marianne she asked how we were doing for drinking water. I told her we needed to buy some and asked which store she recommended. She said she had twenty four extra bottles of water we could have, she just needed to find someone with a car to get it down to the beach. I was stunned, but we have read you should not decline an offer it is considered rude. It was also going to be a huge help, because we really hadn’t figured out how we were going to get the water from the store to the dinghy, there are no taxis. We made arrangements to meet again at the beach at 17:00 to pick up the water. So, back to the boat with the fruit and to figure out the rest of our day. While Scott and Stephan finished up with the engine I sat in the dinghy and held all of the fruit in the water in a net back for bug control. This took a while, you can only put so many pomplumousse in one net bag. At 15:00 we headed into shore with Stephan following to make sure the outboard made it to go to the bank and the store to buy a few more waters to go with what we would later get from Marianne. After getting cash from the bank we paid Stephan and headed off to the store. We bought twelve more waters, two sodas and a case of beer. When we got outside Scott realized with horror the beer had cost $60.00. Yikes! This beer we did not need, they were very nice and refunded our money. Lesson learned, ask first. When we had so much to carry we were offered a ride by one of the guys who worked at the store. He pulled up in the most beat up vehicle I have ever ridden in. Scott being the gentleman sat in the back of this small jeep like creature, honestly he got the better deal. The seats were practically down to the springs and the driver wore his seatbelt pulled across him, but not attached to anything, so I did the same. They are apparently very strict about seatbelts on Nuku Hiva. We made it back to the dinghy and back to the boat with our bottled water in time to row over to the beach again to meet Marianne to pick up the water. As promised she was there with two cases of 1.5 liter bottles of drinking water. We still couldn’t believe our good fortune and her heartfelt generosity. She will be leaving Nuku Hiva on June 22nd, the hotel has transferred she and her husband to the property on Raiatea. We will probably stop by Raiatea so we can say hello to Marianne, we like the idea of already knowing someone there. Once back on the boat we rushed around to make some soup and change to go to shore again to watch the dancing and drumming. It was our first taste of the local culture and art of music and dance. They were practicing for the upcoming festival and competition in July, they were really great, even without traditional costumes. The men do one dance where they are calling the pig and apparently this is something all boys learn to do as a rite of passage into manhood. They eat the leaves of bread fruit and the bitterness causes something in there vocal cords to break so they can make a very low and husky noise to imitate the pig. It was quite impressive. If you are exhausted after reading this journal entry, you can only imagine how we felt as we fell into bed.
As planned we rowed out and back and checked out of the hotel. When we were leaving the hotel we ran into Marianne, she is the head waitress and had been very nice to us. We had brought some stickers and bubble gum to give to her for her five daughters and we were planning to look for her on our way back down the hill (her house is on the way). Before leaving the hotel she gave us a big bag of ice and said she would meet us at our dinghy with some fruit she wanted to give to us. We waited a little while and she hadn’t come yet, so Scott rowed out to the boat again with the last of the water (we schlepped 70 gallons in total) and to meet Stephan who was coming by to start the engine to see if the pump was going to work. On his way out Stephan came by and gave him a tow to the boat. They tried the pump and found only one small leak that Stephan said would be no problem to fix. In the meantime, Marianne came down to the beach carrying a bucket of limes from the tree in her yard, two coconuts (Scott is anxious to try the juice of a young coconut, I don’t care for it) and five pomplumousse. What is pomplumousse? It is a large green grapefruit about the size of a soccer ball. They are sweeter, but still taste like grapefruit. They are huge and I have not figured out how two people eat one. The pomplumousse is our first new fruit or vegetable experience. While chatting with Marianne she asked how we were doing for drinking water. I told her we needed to buy some and asked which store she recommended. She said she had twenty four extra bottles of water we could have, she just needed to find someone with a car to get it down to the beach. I was stunned, but we have read you should not decline an offer it is considered rude. It was also going to be a huge help, because we really hadn’t figured out how we were going to get the water from the store to the dinghy, there are no taxis. We made arrangements to meet again at the beach at 17:00 to pick up the water. So, back to the boat with the fruit and to figure out the rest of our day. While Scott and Stephan finished up with the engine I sat in the dinghy and held all of the fruit in the water in a net back for bug control. This took a while, you can only put so many pomplumousse in one net bag. At 15:00 we headed into shore with Stephan following to make sure the outboard made it to go to the bank and the store to buy a few more waters to go with what we would later get from Marianne. After getting cash from the bank we paid Stephan and headed off to the store. We bought twelve more waters, two sodas and a case of beer. When we got outside Scott realized with horror the beer had cost $60.00. Yikes! This beer we did not need, they were very nice and refunded our money. Lesson learned, ask first. When we had so much to carry we were offered a ride by one of the guys who worked at the store. He pulled up in the most beat up vehicle I have ever ridden in. Scott being the gentleman sat in the back of this small jeep like creature, honestly he got the better deal. The seats were practically down to the springs and the driver wore his seatbelt pulled across him, but not attached to anything, so I did the same. They are apparently very strict about seatbelts on Nuku Hiva. We made it back to the dinghy and back to the boat with our bottled water in time to row over to the beach again to meet Marianne to pick up the water. As promised she was there with two cases of 1.5 liter bottles of drinking water. We still couldn’t believe our good fortune and her heartfelt generosity. She will be leaving Nuku Hiva on June 22nd, the hotel has transferred she and her husband to the property on Raiatea. We will probably stop by Raiatea so we can say hello to Marianne, we like the idea of already knowing someone there. Once back on the boat we rushed around to make some soup and change to go to shore again to watch the dancing and drumming. It was our first taste of the local culture and art of music and dance. They were practicing for the upcoming festival and competition in July, they were really great, even without traditional costumes. The men do one dance where they are calling the pig and apparently this is something all boys learn to do as a rite of passage into manhood. They eat the leaves of bread fruit and the bitterness causes something in there vocal cords to break so they can make a very low and husky noise to imitate the pig. It was quite impressive. If you are exhausted after reading this journal entry, you can only imagine how we felt as we fell into bed.
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