:lat=-10.929183:lon=-141.668017:
Time: 1735UTC, COG 220T, SOG 5.3kts, Distance Remaining: 411nm
As a side note I want to apologize for the crappy quality of the photos in the previous blog (I will improve them in the future) and for the old location status "Ua Pou" to the right. Blame the lack of (decent) internet in our last anchorage. We are underway now and Mark will update our position on the map daily.
The weather looked promising when we lifted anchor in Hakamaii, Ua Pou around 8am this morning. While the villagers went to church, I hauled Mark up the mast to check the rigging and by the time the service finished, we were underway. The land effect kept our progress to a minimum for quite some time. A massive pod of dolphins sent us off towards the Tuamotus. Floating in the water, swimming back and forth, they got slightly bored with our idleness in the water, but they didn't give up. When we finally gained some speed, so did they. It was a sight to behold.
Ua Pou became smaller, while the distance to the atoll of Apataki slowly shortened. By 1pm the last island of the Marquesas was gone, swallowed up by the clouds. We were all alone in the big, wide ocean. We checked the instruments. We adjusted them. We checked the sails. We adjusted them. We ate fruit. Lots of fruit. As usual at sea, we need to consume bananas as quickly as possible. They are turning yellow as we speak! When the sun makes us drowsy, we take a nap.
A few hours into the trip, the weather did its own Pacific thing again: it changed without any reason. The wind speed dropped five knots and later on even ten (!) knots, the direction became less favorable. At one point, it shifted 60°! All of a sudden we couldn't stay on course anymore. Our speed dropped from an expected 6 knots to 5.5 (required to get there in four days), to 5 and less. By 4pm we were sailing under main sail only and barely doing 3 knots. Half a knot of that was current. Now what? And, today was supposed to be our fastest day, since the wind speed is predicted to go
down...
We hoped for more wind. We asked for more wind. We screamed for more wind. All the while wondering how the breeze could be so inconsistent and unpredictable on this ocean. There were no squalls nearby and we were far from the equator! Our only explanation were the gray clouds in the area or a weather system further away. By 6:30pm, my bedtime, our situation had improved some and we were sailing under full sails again. A boobie (brown and white seabird) landed on the solar panels and joined us for the ride.
Fast forward six hours. Irie is cruising along at more than five knots. The wind keeps fluctuating a bit, there are some squalls around and a skinny moon tries to pop out. Wherever not obscured by clouds, the stars twinkly. Our winged hitchhiker is still here, taking a nap, and so is Mark. We are comfortably sailing for now, so no complaints! :-)
Moorea is a beautiful island in the Society group of French
Polynesia. Only 15 miles removed from Tahiti, its dramatic contour is visible (and
luring) from there on clear days, and as a destination it is only a three-four hour
sail or a one hour ferry ride away. Moorea is a “high” island surrounded by
coral reefs. Its body consists of sharply outlined peaks, green hills and white
sand beaches. Between shore and reef, the lagoon presents smooth clear waters
of all shades of blue. Because of its close proximity to Tahiti and its
plethora of things to see and do, Moorea attracts heaps of tourists. You see
them being transported in vans, buses or pick-up trucks onshore and being
ferried on tours with lagoon and whale watch boats, dive boats or jetskis. On
busy days, Irie has to swallow a lot of wake and bounciness, but usually, the
anchorage we are in right now is pretty quiet and we are the only boat around;
a rare sight in Moorea! We enjoy privacy and comfort in a sublime setting.
The underwater highlight of Moorea is called “Stingray
City”, a dedicated area where stingrays – and now also an increasing amount of
reef sharks – gather. The reason: tour operators feed the rays who, in return,
love to be around people and even climb on them, offering tourists the
opportunity to touch and stroke these gentle creatures and take amazing
pictures. Some rays even climb all over the people standing and swimming in the
shallow water, so we’ve heard. Not a fan of feeding wildlife (even though the
stingray feeding has been an attraction on Moorea for over twenty years), Mark
and I parked our dinghy amongst the tour boats, and I jumped in the water to
see what all the fuzz was about. Mark remained dry above the water surface,
because the circling sharks – outnumbering the sting rays – put him off from
jumping in. The fact that a tourist had been bitten by a shark here a week
prior supported his decision. 
I saw some stingrays swimming about, but most must have been
tired from all the commotion and feeding earlier in the morning, because they
were resting on the bottom, covered with white sand. Since we didn’t have any
food to give them, they went about their business after the initial curiosity and
anticipation hearing our outboard engine upon our arrival. Even though I
managed to stroke one of the bigger residents, I was a little disappointed that
they didn’t “climb all over me”. Like in South Fakarava in the Tuamotus, many
black tip reef sharks were present – in this tranquil climate I almost had to
urge to pet them as well – but they just swam around and kept their distance.
Maybe coming over earlier in the morning, before all the tourist hubbub starts,
provides better interaction with the velvety and gracious stingrays? 
