#20 Fixing stuff & island hopping – The Society Islands

Tahiti

Tahiti is the most developed and “civilised” island in the whole of the south Pacific.  It boasts the best supermarket East of Australia and New Zealand, a massive Carrefour superstore selling everything you could possibly need to restock your boat including loads of home brand products that also grace the shelves in Paris.  The first time we entered the store we were mesmerised by the fruit and veg section, a long aisle of green that was a feast for the eyes after the meagre pickings in the Tuamotus where you would dance a jig if you found a manky old cabbage for sale.

Tahiti also has all the services a yacht could need such as sail makers, engine mechanics, riggers and marine electricians.  This was pretty handy as after 5,000 miles of Pacific sailing there was plenty of work to do on Kilauea to get her ship shape again.  We managed to snag the last berth available in the city marina with our stern facing the promenade and, behind it, the main street of Tahiti.  The sounds, smells and sights of being in the heart of a city was overwhelming at first after the solitude of the Tuamotus but we loved the change of pace and, let’s face it, unlimited wifi, electricity and water!

Each morning, Lottie would cycle off along the promenade on one of our fold up bikes clutching a long baguette bag (yes there is such a thing) Parisian style while we waved from the boat soon to return with a basket brimming with fresh baguettes, croissants and, occasionally, a circle of camembert for lunch.  A soon as breakfast was cleared away the kids would “go to school” which for them was taking their books and laptops to the marina lounge to use the free wifi and desks. Then the first tradies would arrive and the boat jobs would begin.  We had 10 days until our next guests arrived and so the clock was most definitely ticking. All in all we achieved the following jobs:

• Serviced heads (toilets)
• Repaired main sail bag
• Repaired gennaker sail
• Installed chart plotter at port helm (replaced under warranty)
• Replaced spinnaker halyard
• Replaced cathodes on prop
• Replaced 3rd reef line
• Serviced both engines
• Picked up new propeller
• Resolved engine battery charging issue
• Fixed sliding door
• Deep cleaned boat (inside and out)
• Bought and installed new fishing rod for starboard side
• Replaced spear for speargun
• Re-fueled
• Re-provisioned
• Filled up gas bottles
• Filled up water tanks
• Changed water maker filters
• Machined a new pin for bowsprit
• Picked up new fitting and re-install bowsprit
• Bought wakeboard
• Bought new paddleboard and two paddles
• Bought subwing
• Made a fort in Jasmine’s room

We did manage to have some fun time as well.  Its funny what you miss living on a boat and one of these was the ability to watch a movie at a cinema.  I was desperate to watch the second Top Gun, the original being one of my favourite movies of all time, and we found a cinema within a stone’s throw of the boat that was not only showing it but also had viewing time that had it in English rather than dubbed in French.  Our marriage was definitely in jeopardy when the movie started in French and it appeared Lottie had bought tickets to the wrong viewing but just before lawyers were contacted the technician realised his mistake and restarted the movie, this time in English. Crisis averted, marriage saved.  We timed our visit with the start of Heiva, a month long festival of Polynesian culture embracing dance, singing and art.   There was an exhibition from the Marquases archipelago happening in town so we trotted along. Viewing the wood carvings and listening to the music we were instantly transported back to one of our favourite places.  The drum and dance show was an explosion of noise, aggression (from the men) and sensual dancing (from the women) that was absorbing to watch.

In no time at all, it was time to pick up Jon and Sue from the airport.  Jon is one of my oldest friends (in both senses of the word -sorry mate). He was the person I sat next to on my first day as a graduate civil engineer back in the 90s and he became both a mentor and firm friend almost from day one.  He taught me everything you ever needed to know about road design (many of you may wonder how much really there is to know but trust me, its a lot) but also about drinking and hiking and football and rock climbing and music amongst other things.  “The Lovely Sue”, as his wife is known to us, has one of the kindest hearts you could come across.  I got a text from Jon a couple of weeks before they arrived, “just a reminder, Sue doesn’t eat meat” (challenge accepted, the freezer is full of fish anyway) “and you remember she doesn’t swim don’t you?”. Hmm OK.  “You do know we need to do several ocean passages between islands including an overnighter?” I madly typed back, “no problem mate, she trusts Captain Al.” Gulp. I couldn’t help wonder if Sue was indeed as trusting as Jon said or perhaps would be in for a bit of a shock when she got onboard her floating home for the next two weeks.  Oh well, too late now!

Charlotte prepared the guest cabin, leaving a pair of towels and Kilauea t-shirts on the bed and as they stepped on board she draped flower leis over the heads while I prepared a stiff rum cocktail for Jon and a G&T for the Lovely Sue. Their grins said it all, their holiday had begun.

We spent the next day driving around the island in a van I’d hired that could take all 6 of us.  The highlight for me was visiting Point Venus where 253 years ago Captain Cook set up camp to observe the transit of Venus across the sun in order for astronomers  to calculate, amongst other things, the size of the solar system itself.

The next day we left the dock with the boat in the best shape it had ever been with absolutely everything beautifully clean and working flawlessly.  That lasted about 20 minutes until our port engine transmission stopped working.  Un-fricking-believable! I felt that familiar sensation of despair and helplessness rising up in me that usually accompanies something breaking on the boat.  Gathering myself together, I quickly jumped overboard to check the prop was still there (it was) and called the volvo mechanic to meet us at the fuel dock to diagnose the problem.  It didn’t take him long to work out that the “damper” needed replacing.  The nearest one was in France and a few phone calls, emails, and a draining of the bank account later we had one on order due to arrive in 2-3 weeks.  The next problem was finding a mechanic that could replace it but that little problem would have to wait.  In the mean time we had a holiday to deliver and we would just have to accept that we were down to one engine again!

By the time we puttered out of the lagoon that surrounds Tahiti and motored the few miles across the oily calm sea to Moorea island we had lost so much time it was getting dark and not only that, the mother of all rain squalls smashed into the boat.  We anchored in pitch black and torrential rain amongst a few other boats in the anchorage. I had wanted to give Jon and Sue the best holiday and was pretty depressed about how it had started but they and Charlotte soon cheered me up with some rum based drinks, a steak and chips dinner and reassurances that this was all part of the adventure they had bought into and they were having a great time.

Moorea

We anchored in three different spots in Moorea and had some pretty cool sealife encounters.  The first was with a pod of spinner dolphins that had swam into the bay.  This dolphins of this species are famous for leaping out of the water and spinning around before splashing into the back down again.  Jon and the kids leapt into the sea to try to swim with them but every time they did the dolphins swam the other way.  There followed me trying desperately to manoeuvre the boat with just one engine to pick them up again which is next to impossible in a catamaran. As the engines are offset from the centreline when you gun the engine at slow speeds the boat just rotates.  This would make anchoring, taking a mooring ball and berthing in a marina extremely challenging for a while.

We found a spot in crystal clear shallow water where the tourist boats feed stingrays and sharks and decided this would be the perfect environment to introduce nervous non-swimmer Sue to snorkeling.  I grant you that on paper this seems like an odd decision and so it turned out.  For some reason the rays in particular were really attracted to Sue and started congregating around her as she stood knees trembling in the shallow water. All you could hear was the odd screech and squark through her snorkel as the massive rays rubbed their wings against her.  Husband Jon was soon banished for “not helping!” and replaced with Lottie who held Sue’s hand as the sharks circled sensing the fear. Fair play to Sue though, she was a good sport and stayed put (possibly routed to the spot in terror I grant you) and let the sea life swim around her for several minutes before politely asking (ok begging) to be allowed back into the dinghy. Sue’s G&T was especially strong that evening.

Near the sharks and rays we found a huge and abandoned hotel resort and decided to explore.  It was heartbreaking to see all the chalets boarded up and beautiful reception area gathering dust.  The resort was almost certainly a victim of COVID and the loss of jobs alone would have had a big impact on this small island’s economy.  In one corner of the resort was a turtle sanctuary that was still operational and it warmed the heart again to see the care given to those animals damaged by propellers and suffering various other ailments.

That night, after dinner, we motored out of the lagoon into the sunset and sailed overnight to the next island in the chain, Huahine.  Most impressively, Jon and Sue declared that they would like to do a night watch and I was more than happy to give them the dog watch (12-3am).  They did magnificently, waking me up at an appropriate time when the wind shifted in strength and direction so that we could adjust the sails.  There were some big seas running and whilst the family were dab hands now it suddenly struck me how confronting it must have been for Jon an Sue to sail towards the seemingly limitless horizon into the night on the big ocean swells.  All the more impressive that they completed their watch admirably.

Huahine

After anchoring in a beautiful blue lagoon at the south west corner of the island off a resort we decided we would hire electric bikes and circumnavigate the island. As it was, all they had were three electric bikes, one normal bike and a rather racy looking scooter. Jasmine and I bagged the scooter on the basis we clearly looked the coolest in motorbike helmets and despite Jon’s attempts to be chivalrous, Lottie insisted on pedal power. Vehicles secured this rather odd convoy set off up the road, the electric bikes of Jon and Hugo racing off at the front, then a more sedate and regal Sue, curly hair flying out behind her like a cape and a huffing puffing Lottie at the rear. Jasmine leaning out of our scooter shouted a few encouraging words to her before her not so chivalrous husband opened up the throttle and shot off up the road in pursuit of the boys.

One of the highlights of the tour was visiting a small vanilla farm. We stopped at a little shack which was vaguely where we were told the farm would be an asked an old tramp where it was. Turns out the shack was the farm and the old tramp was not only the farmer but also an excellent guide explaining how each vanilla flower is fertilised by hand using a paint brush and showing us pods at various stages of readiness. Not only did we pick up some incredibly fragrant vanilla pods but he also gave each of us a pamplemousse which was jolly nice of him.

30km and numerous hills later,  our dusty convoy completed the circuit and pulled back into where we had started. A slightly frazzled and wild eyed Lottie collapsed into a comfy chair in the resort’s bar demanding “first a water, then a cold beer”. We had a very enjoyable meal that night all the more for having earned it, some more than others admittedly.

Leaving Huahine we caught our only fish in the entire Society Islands, the worst record for all the archipelagos we had visited. Unusually it occurred while we were still in the lagoon before we had exited the pass. Jon manned the screaming real and had a great fight with what turned out to be a beautiful Giant Trevally, the first of this type of fish any of us had caught. Despite these fish being great eating we reluctantly threw it back due to the ever present risk of cigueterra in these waters.

Raiatea and Ta’haa

The next island up the road was Raiatea, an extremely important place for Polynesians it being the spiritual and geographical heart of Polynesia. First stop for us was Faaroa Bay. After anchoring the boat we jumped in the dinghy and headed up what is the only river cruise you can take in these islands. It was like something straight out of jungle cruise and you expected an anaconda to hang down from a tree at any moment.

Randomly, in this narrow overgrown river we came across a very neat and study concrete dock with massive bollards that could have held back a cruise ship. Tying up the dinghy we found ourselves in a beautiful botanical garden. We never quite worked out why here of all places in the middle of the bush miles from the nearest village there would be a meticulously attended garden such as this but we enjoyed strolling around just the same.

When we got back to the dingy a rather happy looking man was beckoning to us from the other side of the river. “Come and see my farm!” he was calling excitedly so we paddled across the river, tied up to a tree and scrambled up the bank. While the gardens were ordered and tidy, the farm was the complete opposite. Crops seemed to be planted completely at random as if a school of children had been let loose one day each child with a few plants and told to find a spot wherever they could and plant them. He was clearly proud of what he had achieved and rightly so. Everything was so lush! He leapt up a coconut palm one moment and the next we were all quenching our thirst on delicious coconut water straight out of the nut. Next, he cut down some lychees and showed us how to pop them out of the husks and then hacked at some sugar cane with his machete to give the grinning kids something to chew on as we continued the tour. By this point we were getting so many samples we couldn’t keep up and our backpacks were getting more and more laden as in went bananas, guava, soursop, papaya, pamplemousse and some fruit we had never seen before.

The islands of Raiatea and Ta’haa share the same outer reef which means you don’t need to head into the ocean to travel between the two much to Sue’s happiness. We anchored off the western side near the famous coral gardens a popular and unique snorkeling spot formed between two small islands. Waves strike the outer reef and water is forced into the shallow channel between the two islands resulting in a constant gentle and cleansing current rich in nutrients perfect for the formation of healthy coral. You walk “upstream” along a path on one side of the gardens, jump in and then let the current take you along any one of dozens of little channels between clumps of beautiful healthy coral and hundreds of fish. Once you’ve drifted to the downstream end you simply hop out the water and walk up the path to have another go on the ride. Whilst it was popular and got quite busy with tourists we loved this place taking the ride over and over again and never having the same experience twice.

The day was capped off with sundowners watching the sunset over the mystical single peak of Bora Bora resting on the horizon to the west, the island that we would visit the very next day.

By now the ocean swell was so big there were warnings being issued by some of the weather agencies. Not daunted, we motored out of the pass on Ta’haa’s eastern side with enormous barreling waves any Hawaiian big wave surfer would be proud of crashing into the reef a stone’s throw either side of us.  We had a fast but lumpy sail between the islands with the hardest part being entering the pass at Bora Bora.  With such a big swell running, there was a lot of water streaming out of the cut and with our one engine we were rather like a person with one leg trying to hop up a steep hill.

Eventually we made it into Bora Bora’s tranquil lagoon and picked up a mooring outside the famous Bloody Mary’s restaurant when we had a fancy meal planned for the evening to celebrate our last passage as a team.

The next day I was determined to give Jon a great snorkelling experience and had done some research as to where the best spots were. The first spot was OK the highlight being an eagle ray but it was the next one that delivered something really special.  Again we spotted and eagle ray and following it we were led to another then a couple more then a group of five and gradually out of the blue a shoal of approximately 50 eagle rays appeared, all flying in formation just above the seabed.  The bigger ones acted as sergeant majors patrolling along the ranks and making sure each ray was positioned in formation correctly.  Watching these creatures was mesmerising but eventually we were worried our rumbling tummies would scare the rays off so we reluctantly tore ourselves away and dinghied back to the boat for breakfast grinning happily after that unique experience.

We moved moorings to a place we called “the swimming pool” due to its incredibly clear and azure water.  We found another spot where sting rays and sharks gathered and had great fun swimming with them.  The Lovely Sue declined this time opting to read her book in the sun instead, far more civilised. 

I had promised Jon that we would do our best to find manta rays to swim with.  There were two spots that looked promising, one that was well known and shown on the charts and the other was a tip off I’d had from a yachtie friend.  We only had time for one location.  Agonising over this, we picked the more well known one.  Getting to the spot we couldn’t even see the seabed let alone any mantas.  We saw a dive boat anchored and asked them where we should look.  “Just find the bubbles coming from the divers and follow them down” was the friendly reply.  They’ll be with the mantas.  We eventually found the stream of bubbles and I dove down around 10m until I saw the divers huddled on the seabed looking towards me.  Turning round I almost bumped into one of the largest of these creatures I had ever seen, maybe 4m wingspan just gently cruising along the sea bed.  Out of breath now, I had to rocket to the surface.  Unfortunately, poor old Jon couldn’t dive deep enough to get a viewing, his manta experience would have to wait until another day. Ironically, we tried the other spot after Jon had left and found them swimming just below the surface. Arrgghhh!

Bora Bora airport is unusual in that it is on an island with no road or land access at all.  The only way to get to or from the airport is by boat and I thought that a last ride in the dinghy would be a fitting way to send Jon and Sue off back to New Zealand.  We were all sad to see them go, they’d been such great guests and had taken to boat life with gusto, especially the cocktails at sundown tradition.  We especially enjoyed the nights they cooked us dinner and played their eight desert island discs where we’d drink rum late into the night and put the world to rights.

Next instalment we head off to the most remote island community we have ever visited where we would hunt sea-life in the day and cook it on bonfires at night.