Bora Bora… Just the name conjures up dreams and fantasies of
white beaches, lush surroundings, a turquoise lagoon and tropical paradise. It
is called “The pearl of the South Seas” and “One of the prettiest islands in
the world”, and has turned into many couple’s honeymoon destination, or at
least an “I wish I could go to dream vacation”. Why then is Bora Bora one of
the least favorite islands of cruisers (just like Tahiti – another island
internationally rumored to be paradise, while it does not have much to offer
the tourist)? Are the luxury travel magazines exaggerating? Is the tourism
board of French Polynesia really doing such an awesome job of successfully promoting
this Leeward island in the Society group? Or, are the boaters generally
avoiding this place, because it is known to be touristy? And, are they
therefore not devoting enough time to this island on their way west?
Since Mark and I have decided to spend cyclone season (or until we
sell the boat) in the
Society Archipelago of French Polynesia, we have some time to explore its islands,
combining the necessary (work, daily chores, boat projects) with the enjoyable
(sightseeing, snorkeling, relaxing). Initially hoping to join the 80
+
va’a (outrigger canoes) to Bora Bora during the annual
Hawaiki Nui canoe race
earlier in November, we gave up on that plan when the final day of the race
brought yet more rain. By afternoon, it had cleared up beautifully and
surprisingly, but by then, we wouldn’t have been able to make it before dark. We
sailed Irie to our destination the following day, under blue skies and with
winds ranging from over 20 knots when we left to about 5 knots by the time we
arrived! Sail changes were required and the spinnaker took center stage.
During a big chunk of our first week in Bora Bora, Mark and
I paid for a mooring ball (5000 francs, or $55, per week) at the
Mai Kai restaurant and marina on the west side of the island. In return, we received “free”
internet (which didn’t work as well as expected), easy shore access, use of
their pool, and a reliable mooring in 99 feet of water. Our first impressions
of Bora Bora? An average view, traffic noise, lots of wake – the boat didn’t
stop moving the whole time we were there - from local fishing boats, tour
boats, heavy dive boats and airport ferries, and the penetrating smell of burnt
garbage and compost first thing in the morning and last breath at night. We
even found ashes inside the boat once. But, we were here for the internet and
to work, so we tried to ignore these annoyances, now that our internet
frustration from other anchorages was temporarily diminished.
Twice, we took the dinghy ashore to do some sightseeing.
Keeping our expenses to a minimum, we opted to explore the island by foot,
instead of renting bikes (the best way to see and circumnavigate the island),
and hitching rides along the less interesting parts. We had a pleasant walk to
Faanui Bay, from where we turned inland at the church and climbed the pass for
a nice view over the motus, the many high end resorts, Taha’a and Raiatea. Down
we went on the other side, where we reached Fitiiu Point, and with some
difficulty, two of the handful of canons the Americans left behind after WWII.
At this pretty spot, we had a snack and cooled off a bit in the shade. It was
extremely hot, but the weather was perfect for reaching viewpoints and taking
pictures!
Back down, we walked a bit further to find a little grocery
store with sandwiches – these “casse croutes” are the only affordable food in
French Polynesia - and then the long wait for a ride back around the north side
of the island started. On Bora Bora, hitching rides takes much longer than on
any of the other FP islands and we have to agree that the people appear to be
less friendly here as well. Another drawback of tourism, we feel. But, we made
it to the other side, hiked up another steep hill to a third rusty canon,
walked along the busy road to a small and unimpressive marae, made our own pareo (sarong) with tie dye (batik) at a roadside store, and hitched a last
ride back to return to the Mai Kai.
On day two, we started with a walk again, this time towards
the south and through the capital of Vaitape. In steady traffic, we needed to
wait a half an hour or so before someone picked us up and dropped us at Matira
Beach, which was more impressive than we thought. The sand is white and the
lagoon shallow and lukewarm, with only a handful of tourists wading out waist
deep to cool off. The area was relatively quiet and people enjoyed themselves
on the beach and the water. At this end of the island, a lot of resorts are
located and a vacation atmosphere is present. Mark and I pressed on, in search
of the Belvedere (viewpoint) and a sandwich, which we found in the lesser
healthy version of meat and French fries – yes, all inside the baguette! The
Belvedere eluded us, but instead, we managed to climb over the island again via
a steep dirt road, and once on the other side, the ride back to Vaitape was a
short one.
A few days ago, we motored Irie to the east side of the
lagoon, where the scenery improved, and the colors of the lagoon beckoned. This
pretty area also attracted a lot of over-the-water-bungalow resorts, so the
traffic was still pretty much non-stop and the boat was seldom stable. The
smell of burnt trash from local houses was still part of our mornings and
evenings. Upon our dinghy explorations towards the motus, “tabu” signs screamed
at us to not set foot on the sandy beaches ashore. “Tabu” means “prohibited” or
the equivalent of “private”, even though - as far as our understanding goes -
beaches in French Polynesia are public. We were not going to risk it; some of
these places have hordes of vicious dogs to keep visitors out. Instead, we went
for a swim in the light blue shallows, where the water was pleasantly warm and
the perfect depth to sit down and enjoy the scenery, with our heads just above
the water surface.
We moved further to the southeast area of the lagoon; a
truly beautiful place. We haven’t dared to check out the palm fringed beaches
yet, but the resorts are located at a safe distance away, it is more peaceful
here and the colors of the majestic lagoon range from aquamarine to cobalt
blue. The weather has been gorgeous for a while, making us suspicious; we
haven’t had this incredible weather for so many days in a row, since the
Caribbean! Nevertheless, we’ll take it… We checked out the coral garden, which
was less impressive than the one in Taha’a and, of course, very touristy, but
it was a nice destination for a snorkel, and especially that day, the water was
crystal clear, the only time since we have been here. Usually, the visibility
in the lagoon water has been poor.
As a summary so far, I could see why people come here on
vacation, but you’d have to stay in one of the expensive resorts – on a motu if
you like privacy, exclusivity and romance - to make it your worthwhile and to
fully enjoy the scenery and water activities. As for a cruiser, the SE of Bora
Bora is definitely the place to be, but only catamarans seem to make it “all the
way” out here, and I am sure that it is possible to find a similar spot as the
one we have found right now in some of the other Societies. We might be
spoiled. A daytrip to explore the mainland is also worthwhile; as the following photos will prove. For me, the
dazzling colors of the surrounding lagoon on a sunny day and the majestic peaks
of Bora Bora’s mountain can keep me entertained and enthralled, as long as it
is peaceful around us and the smell of garbage burning is absent. Unfortunately, the internet in our most recently found Shangri-La is
insufficient and frustratingly intermittent, so we will soon have to move
again!
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| Approaching Bora Bora and its surrounding lagoon with Irie |
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| Va'a rower "taking" Irie's wake to help his progress in the lagoon |
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| Church of Vaitape with Bora's iconic mountain (Mt. Otemanu) behind |
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| Sunset on the west side of Bora Bora, with motu Tapu |
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| Va'a in the lagoon with motu Tapu in the background |
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| Most local boats on Bora have their own lift system |
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| Mt. Otemanu seen from a different angle, while hiking |
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| One of the American canons left behind after WWII; Taha'a and Raiatea are seen in the background |
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| One of the views the US soldiers had from their bunker on the hill |
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| Site of the canons on the peninsula, with a view over the lagoon and - since after WWII :-) - its fancy resorts, with Taha'a on the horizon |
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| Creating our own sarong with linoleum prints |
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| Va'a paddlers in the shallow lagoon at Matira Beach |
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| One of the many over-the-water-bungalow resorts - this one is the Intercontinental on the mainland |
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| Unhealthy lunch: French fries on French bread! Where are the veggies?? |
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| Making (lunch) friends on the beach |
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| The colors of Bora Bora lagoon, with Taha'a in the background |
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| Walking back across and over the hill with full bellies |
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| Tourist sailboat in front of the St. Regis resort, on the east side of the lagoon |
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| Forget about stepping foot on one of these motus... |
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| I don't think anyone will chase us off here on these pointy rocks! |
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| Don't worry, pups, we are leaving! |
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| Bora Bora in the early morning light (east side) |
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| Sunset from Irie in the southeast corner of the lagoon |
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| SE side of the lagoon by - very clear! - day |
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| Approaching the coral garden and its tourists - the water was unbelievably clear that day! |
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| This is what happens when fish are fed... they multiply! :-) |
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| Kind of trigger fish I cannot identify |
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| Sofitel motu with over-the-water bungalows |
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| Irie in the SE lagoon anchorage on a very pretty day - who would not want to buy her and spend some time here? :-) |
About 30 miles east of Bora Bora in the Leeward Society
Islands, lies another, little known atoll, also with a mountainous interior. It
is called Maupiti, which has one village, Vai’ea, and about 1200 inhabitants.
The Polynesians say it is like Bora Bora was 30 years ago, for some cruisers
the island is one of their highlights in the Pacific, but most sailors skip it
on their way west, mostly because of its notorious pass to access the lagoon
and safe harbor.
The only pass (cut in the outer reef) to enter Maupiti’s
lagoon is located on the south side of the atoll. This is also where the
surplus lagoon water leaves through on an always outgoing tide. With the
predominantly south west swell of the Pacific Ocean coming into the pass, this
combination can be very dangerous, causing standing waves and making the pass
inaccessible and deadly at times of high winds and big swells. Needless to say
this is a tricky pass and a quite narrow one at that! All the guidebooks warn
that entering the pass should be attempted in less than 20 knots of wind and a
swell lower than 6ft. Mark and I waited for such a moment in Bora Bora, but as
we have long known since being here: the weather predictions are rarely
accurate.
Leaving from the leeward side of Bora Bora, it was dead calm
the morning we decided to sail to Maupiti. The forecast called for 10-15 knots
of wind and a 4ft swell: ideal! “If there is no wind, we are not going!” Mark
said, when we lifted anchor at 7am. Not wanting to motor for six hours, I grudgingly
agreed, hoping that we could at least make another attempt later in the week if
we had to turn back that morning. It is always a double edged sword: no wind
meant not getting there under sail, but perfect conditions to enter the pass.
But, we wanted a decent amount of wind to sail there swift and comfortably… If
the wind and the swell would be too high, however, and the pass therefore
inaccessible, one would have to tack and beat back into that strong wind (no
fun and a tiring and long effort) all the way to Bora Bora, getting in at
night!
We didn’t bother setting any sails, since we had no idea
what the ocean conditions were and, if we needed to fly the spinnaker, the
mainsail would have to be dropped again anyway. Once outside Bora Bora’s pass,
we motored for half an hour, when the wind cleared the island and filled in.
For the first bit, we managed to stay on course with both sails, but then we had
to furl the jib in and let the (bigger) main out to collect as much wind as
possible from dead behind us. A preventer was rigged to avoid an accidental
jibe. We considered rigging the spinnaker, but were too lazy at that moment and
our decision proved to be a good one. At times the wind was blowing over 20
knots and we were happily cruising along at 5 knots with one sail! Of course
the waves started to grow with the wind increase, to about 6-7ft, and we began to
realize the downside of our steady progress: what would happen at the pass? 
We gave the southeast corner of Maupiti a wide berth as
recommended by the guides and started to approach the pass dead on under motor
and with a tightly trimmed mainsail. The conditions had mellowed a bit and the
visibility was OK. Our concentration was solely on the pass. Forget about the
charts; navigation is purely visual here! Lining up the first set of range markers
perfectly, Captain Mark did a great job steering us through the entrance, in
between breaking reefs. At the first set of green and red markers, we lined up
the second set of range markers to guide us into the dogleg of the channel.
From there on, the water was calm and the rest of the way very well-marked and
straightforward. We had safely arrived in Maupiti! We dropped the hook in front
of the church and took a breath, while grey clouds gathered and the rain began
to fall. Even though Mark said the whole experience was a bit nerve racking
and not something he’d want to do again, through the photographer’s lens, it
didn’t look all that scary! :-)
Maupiti is relatively small and encircled by one road of
about 7 miles. Most of the people live along the south and east coast of the
mainland, while five motus and exposed reef frame the lagoon. One cloudy day,
Mark and I set out to walk around the island and see what we could find. Not
much, but it was good exercise. Except for a few churches, a school, some small
grocery stores, a covered market place, a bakery and one government building,
the village of Vai’ea consists of private houses and friendly locals. We passed
high cliffs, tons of breadfruit, coconut, banana and mango trees – all in
season! – and lots of empty space. On the west side of the island, we ventured
out to the only beach, a white sandy stretch called Tereia, to take a break in
the shade, before returning to our dinghy at the conveniently located floating
dock in town.
This last Sunday, we woke to blue skies at 6am and decided
to tackle the mountain top in the middle of the island. About an hour later,
our “Kiwi” friends Monique and Garth (from New Zealand) on SV Heartbeat (now
the second sailboat in the atoll) joined us for this endeavor. In the span of
roughly two hours, we climbed the nearly vertical trail and steep rocks, where
help was provided by knotted ropes. While we sweated like crazy (the heat and
humidity are not to be underestimated in the tropics), drank heaps of water and
took a couple of breaks, the view improved with every step we took! When we finally
arrived at the top, the surroundings looked awe-inspiring; truly breathtaking.
Mark and I agreed it was right up there as the best view we’ve seen in the
Pacific. Photos were snapped, snacks were eaten and enjoyment was had, while
gazing at the expansion underneath us. High up, the breeze cooled us down
enough to spend about 45 minutes on the top, but the sun was still burning like hell.
The descent was as challenging as the hike up, and brutal on the knees and
other joints. It took us a good hour to head all the way back down, but we all agreed this incredible experience was worth every huff and puff!
