Arriving and cruising in the Tuamotus Archipelago

                                            while leaving view back to Fatu Hiva

 

Before leaving Fatu Hiva I thought it prudent to check the prop and hull below the waterline for fouling, knowing that we may need all the propulsion and performance that the boat could deliver in the passes of the Tuamotu Atolls. There was little to be removed.

 

There was the usual in-consistent wind that accompanies the departure from a high island, that is, wildly varying wind in strength and direction that necessitates much sail and wind vane steering adjustment.

Renate was keen to revisit the atoll of Raroia to renew acquaintances she had made there twenty years ago. On clearing Fatu Hiva’s wind shadow we discovered the trade winds had veered to the SSE at 25knots. As our course for Raroia was 210 degrees true we had to sail hard on the wind into some big seas with two reefs in each sail. The bow was hitting the oncoming sea hard which made for a noisy bumpy start to the trip in which it was difficult to rest well of watch. Around midnight conditions eased and by dawn we had comfortable sailing in 18 knots of true SE wind in sunshine. Sheets were eased and with one reef left in each sail we sped along nicely. Eventually all reefs were shaken out and sheets eased further as the wind veered to the ESE. Taiko continued at her best cruising speed of six to six and half knots past the navigational hazards of Takume reef and Les Iles Du Disappointment.

With 100nm to go another problem with the Monitor wind vane began to develop. There was an hour or two of erratic steering that required frequent course resetting. Then just before dusk we were off course again and I went outside to reset the course only to discover that the servo pendulum blade had broken off and was being towed along on its tether.

Deciding not to make another precarious remedy with one of us grimly poised above the sea on the Monitor’s frame. I immediately retrieved the blade from the water and set the electric auto helm, then put two reefs in the mainsail to make it easier for the auto helm by keeping weather helm to minimum. The electric device coped well for the remaining 100nm.

Monitor wind vanes have a fail safe device known as a breakaway tube to prevent the wind vane being torn out of the stern of the boat in the event of a collision with a whale or a container. We were not aware of hitting anything and I suspect that the unit was hit, while we were absent from the boat, causing an incomplete fracture around the bolt holes that finally gave way. Here the  broken breakaway tube.

Raroia was sighted early in the morning on the 26^th of August and by 0700 hours we could see the current in the pass and were debating whether or not to enter.

Photo current in pass Raroia

Renate is more of a risk taker than I and we began our approach against my better judgement. In her defence I would say that tidal information in the Tuamotus is more of a guestimate, with slack water in the passes difficult to predict. Actually we never really got it right once. We entered the pass against the outgoing current that must have been running at four or five knots. With the engine screaming at full rpm we zigzagged our way across eddies and over falls making slow progress, our speed over the ground falling to zero knots at times. Keeping to the northern side of the pass, where the current was slightly less, we made it to anchor inside the lagoon shortly before 0900 hours. While resting and pausing our journey, to be sure the anchor was well set, we felt pleased with Taiko’s performance in covering 405nm in 72hours.

Later, I set about installing the spare breakaway tube on the Monitor with the, by now, familiar angst of dropping vital parts, that can’t be retained by a lanyard, into the sea.

A brief reconnoitre ashore the next day soon established that, Maupo, Renate’s acquaintance of 20 years ago, was away doing construction work at a pearl farm on the east side of the lagoon. It was resolved to navigate to the east side of the lagoon to track down the gentleman.

Before returning to Taiko we took a stroll around the island hoping to get a look at the pass. It wasn’t possible to get to the pass. We ended up in what passes for the town dump. It is generally regarded as good practice to have renewable energy generation and that capture and storage of solar energy is a good thing; especially for remote communities. Take a look at the photo below. Storage of solar energy is not free, nor is it without environmental consequence. In a remote community who is going to pay for the shipping costs to get these batteries to recycling facility? On every atoll there are many vehicles. I enquired as to how old vehicles were disposed of, to be told that they are buried and that there are many.

Traversing the lagoon was a new and an interesting experience. The lagoon interior was very well charted by our electrotechnical navigation app “i-sailor” with every coral patch correctly shown, even though there where no depth soundings shown. Nevertheless we were cautious, by sailing slowly at about 4knots, under foresail only, with the sun high in the sky.

Going ashore at about 4pm, after anchoring off the pearl farm, we discovered Maupo was indeed present and remembered Renate. Returning at knock-off time we made a present of some pamplemouse and some ukulele strings. It was Friday afternoon. Sunday was day of rest and Maupo and the other workers would be returning to the Village on Saturday afternoon. He invited us to his house to eat and drink with him on Sunday. When asked for a time for a rendezvous he said ‘8am’. When I protested that this was rather early to begin drinking beer he said “okay, coffee first”. Ah well, when in Rome...

The back track across the lagoon was made early the next morning in order to maintain good visibility, without glare, as we sailed north and west back to the village. 

In Raroia we began using the recommended Tuamotus anchor technique of buoying the anchor chain as it is let out. Both of us were concerned that this would have deleterious effects on the holding power of the anchor because there is less chain on the sea bottom. However this turned out not to be the case. After anchoring off the village on the west side Raroia lagoon with the wind from the east at 25 to 30 knots, giving us a very close lee shore, that made me reluctant to leave the boat to go ashore the next day. However the anchor held all night and all day, no problem.

All was well, when the wind blew hard the fenders on the chain were pulled down to lower the angle between chain sea floor. It is a technique we have come to like because you can anchor in depths shallow enough to see your anchor and chain, your chain doesn’t foul on, or damage, coral and at 4 or 5m depth you easily dive down if there is a problem to sort out.

The day spent with Maupo, his wife, brother and nephew was a jolly affair with music and singing and reminiscences of people and boats that had long since passed by. Thoroughly enjoyable, the time seemed to pass so quickly. Maupo’s brother, Alfonso, was so pleased to get new strings for his ukulele that he changed them immediately before playing, explaining that he had not had new strings for five years! I change my mandolin strings about every four months.

The time came to leave. Maupo needed to go back to work and we boarded Taiko, shipped the dinghy and made ready to shoot the pass with last of the out going current, in the late afternoon. The flow was stronger than expected but we had no trouble maintaining steerage way as we sped out through the pass, bound for Makemo. The wind was blowing steadily from ESE at 20knots, our course was WSW, which put the wind a little aft of the beam, conditions Taiko loves. There were 81nm to cover, but we were going too fast, 8 knots from time to time, to arrive in daylight with a manageable ingoing current. The decision was made to triple reef each sail in an attempt to slow down. In the event it didn’t avail us much. 81Nm in 15hours. We arrived early morning with a much stronger ingoing current than desired.

Here the current entering Makemo

However, the pass was deep wide and unobstructed by under water obstacles. You might ask, why was I worried if the current was carrying us forward? The answer is that it is a terrifying experience to find yourself being born onto a previously unseen obstacle with four knots of current underneath you. In such circumstances the only escape is to turn around to face the current and ferry glide across the current like a white water kayaker. If you can do it in time. As luck would have it, the pass was easy and we came to anchor nicely off the quay in 4m of water.

When we arrived at Makemo a two week lockdown was declared by the government and all yachts were required to remain in place for the duration. The navy was patrolling the atolls to enforce this.

Renate was delighted to discover that there were two German ‘buddy’ boats tied to the town quay when we arrived. Gentoo and Wolo (We Only Live Once). The Municipal Police were happy to allow the yachts alongside the quay to form a ‘bubble’. They made nightly patrols at 8pm to make sure we were all accounted for. 

 

 

Renate was pleased to be able to have long conversations in German that were punctuated only occasionally, for my understanding, with English. There was lots of socialising and boat visiting, once we were talked into coming alongside like the other boats. Beer tasting was a popular activity. So much so, that the two German skippers decided to contact Coopers’ to try to get some beer kits and brewing equipment sent to them in French Polynesia. We have not yet heard whether they have been successful. Later, a couple of French boats joined us. With good company present, the time in lockdown passed quickly. This was the best period of socialising we had had for a long time.

Suddenly, it seemed, almost half of September had slipped by and it was time to continue westwards. It was sad to say goodbye to the good people we had met but frequent goodbyes are part and parcel of the cruising lifestyle.

At 1700 hours on the 13^th of September the anchor was aboard and Taiko was headed toward the pass. The exit was uneventful and a course was set for the uninhabited atoll of Tahanea. In an attempt to sail slowly so as to arrive at the pass at slack water Taiko was triple reefed in both sails. Again, this didn’t seem to make much difference. In 20 knots of Easterly wind Taiko covered the 82.4 nm in 14 hours. Tahanea Middle Pass is deep wide and unobstructed, causing us no anxiety while entering with a strong flooding current. Anchored in shallow water among the coral heads with a buoyed chain we were looking forward to snorkelling in the gin clear water.

To me, atolls differ only in their shape and size and the navigability of their passes. However, Tahanea was something special. I guess that being uninhabited the fish life is more prolific and less timid. Jettisoned kitchen scraps caused a flurry of activity from many different fish species.

 Martin checking out a coral

When ever we were in the water at Tahanea sharks were always present and seemed to follow us from one location to another. They never looked aggressive or threatening but I found it a little unnerving at first. Later, I considered that perhaps they followed because a snorkeller might precipitate a feeding opportunity by scattering smaller prey as we passed by. They were never closer than ten meters and we never saw them catching a creature.

After getting used to the presence of so many sharks we found great enjoyment in snorkelling and diving, the beauty and variety was superb. The visibility excellent.

All underwater pictures were made in Tahanea

Our next destination was the UNESCO heritage, famed diving and snorkelling paradise of Fakarava, a very long atoll that runs SE to NW. We planned to enter through its southern pass and exit by its northern pass, ever conscious of our need to keep making progress west ward. Fakarava’ s southern pass was 50nm from Tahanea. As there would be only 50 nm to sail, which we decided to leave Tahanea in the dark. We had our incoming track to follow and felt that we would encounter no difficulty. Unfortunately neither of us had considered that in coming and out going tides run completely differently so that following our in coming track in the dark had us passing through the worst area of large standing waves. A lot of water came on board in that whirlpool to overwhelm our fore deck dorade; a salty wet bed resulted.

We tripled reefed again in an attempt to go slowly. Still too fast, we had to heave to 10 nm from Fakarava for three hours. Our i-pad track records 56.5nm 12.5 hours, top speed 8.4knots, average speed 4.5knots, which includes the three hours hove to. Given a reasonable sailing wind Taiko is fast comfortable passage maker.

Fakarava was not as interesting as Tahanea for us. We drift snorkelled the south pass on an incoming tide while towing the dinghy but found it less interesting than our previous experience. The fish we saw where few and rather small. We spend several days trying to find some vegetables other than bok-choy and pink aubergines, with little success. It was helpful to use the internet, get our laundry done and have our empty gas cylinder filled at Fakarava Yacht Services. We also rented bikes here to go for a long bike ride on the atoll’s single road. We enjoyed the exercise and the day out.

We received a message from our friends on the vessel Fourth Dimension saying that they would be sailing from Moorea to Huahine and would like to meet up with us next Monday for Happy Hour at the Yacht Club in Fare. So it was time for us to say goodbye to the Tuamotus and set sails for the Society Islands.