For a couple of days, the weather in Apataki was beautiful; the sun shining brightly in the blue sky and the waves of the lagoon lapping gently on the coral beach. Then, the wind shifted to the north again and arrived with a vengeance. The lagoon water churned up, the wind chop grew, the waves produced foam while crashing on shore and it was blowing a steady 30+ knots, with squalls bringing 40-50 knots! The big sailboats on the moorings pitched wildly. Luckily, Mark and I were safely on the blocks and stands by then, “barely” noticing the mayhem inside the atoll. The boat didn’t move at all; we were safely “anchored” on terra firma. It was actually fun to see our wind meter climb higher and higher to wind speeds it had never registered before.
A crazy lagoon in north winds, making hauling and launching a real challenge…
Two days prior, we were promised a morning haulout. By the time their machine was fixed and the boat ramp was cleared of all the coral rubble, which washes up constantly, and taking the long lunch break into account, the day had mostly passed. Initially, we were very relaxed about it, but when 2pm arrived, all the waiting around did get us a bit antsy to get going. Around 4pm, we were instructed to approach the carenage (boat yard), following a path in between coral heads, and once we were close enough to shore (too close for comfort in any other situation), lines held Irie in place, about 5 feet from the beach. The whole lifting us out of the water was a sight to behold, involving a few people, a tractor, and a trailer with soft pads supporting our bridge deck. Alfred worked the controls, son Tony was in the water inspecting and instructing, Alfred’s wife Pauline gave mental support and stood by in case of emergency or language barriers and Nini took care of all the other odds and ends. Alfred’s dad Assam was present as well.
Irie close to shore, with the trailer coming underneath
By the time we were installed on the trailer and pulled higher up the boat ramp, it was 5pm and the work day was over, so we spent the first night on the machine. Another step closer to being hauled and being able to start our projects! And, a first introduction to the massive population of mosquitoes and the hot nights, being sideways to the breeze (our hatches face forward for ventilation). The following morning, we were assigned our own working space and that is where Irie comfortably rested for about a week. Alfred put us in a “nice spot”, next to some trees which would provide shade early afternoon, so we “could keep the work up without being too hot”…
Our home for about a week
Not a bad thought, if it weren’t for a few minor inconveniences: the trees totally blocked our wind generator, so while the heavy weather brought all the electricity needed just in wind alone, we received none; being faced southeast, the breeze rarely entered the boat, so it was hot inside at all times; and just imagine what falls out of trees when it is windy... I’ll just say that we couldn’t collect any of the rain because of natural debris landing and staying on our roof, that our ant population multiplied and thrived on the dead bugs falling out of the sky and that our gecko population tripled as well. And, that mosquitoes LOVE shady areas, so they kept us company from dawn till dusk, cheerfully ignoring the mosquito spray we applied and the coils we lighted.
This Lagoon 450 catamaran was too heavy to get hauled, so they had to fix their problem on the lifted trailer in the water
All that being sad, our stay in Apataki Carenage was one of best haulout experiences we have had in seven years of sailing. And believe me, we have hauled out plenty of times, probably beating the record in the cruising community with an average of 1-2 shore visits a year! Do the math… The climate outside was just about perfect; none of that super-hot and sticky summer weather of the Caribbean. Of course it is beneficial to have a catamaran and work intermittently on the shady sides. The Lau family is very friendly, helpful, accommodating and professional. They have their act together, especially considering this place in the Tuamotus is fairly remote. The usual facilities of a boatyard are absent: the toilet barely works, there is no shower, there is no running water (so no pressurized hoses), every boat receives a big barrel of well water to use for cleaning and rinsing (it gets filled regularly), there are no trash containers (your garbage gets picked up by Nini once in a while) and there is no electricity. You can rent a generator or use your own.
Saildrives are a lot of work, especially when you are meticulous about them
Apataki Carenage is truly a do-it-yourself, bring-it-yourself boatyard. Come prepared! Tony can be hired to do boat work, you are allowed to borrow some tools and they have selected marine items for sale, but it is best to ask ahead of time about particularities and order your bottom paint. They are very responsive by email, but speak limited English. Being able to communicate in French is advised and very helpful. The location is unique, with the clear water of the lagoon a few feet away and the palm trees offering sweet coconut water. Fresh eggs can be bought from grandma and the family offers taxi service to the village. 16 tons is the maximum boat weight they allow and 2 meters the maximum draft, but they are very accommodating if there are special needs. All you need to do is ask.
Rinsing the boat with cups of water – very inconvenient and time-consuming!
How did we and Irie do during our week on the hard? Well, we decided to take it easier than other times and that actually worked. We seem to have gotten more done than ever without losing our moods and being too frustrated. The lack of rain showers helped and we focused on inside and underneath projects on the crappiest day. We spread out the work over time and between us – as usual working as a “well-oiled” team - and realized that a lot can be done when your day starts at 7am and you go to bed at 8pm. More often than not, the work ended around 5pm, with a cocktail on the dock overlooking the lagoon. Yes, we managed to buy a bottle of rum from another cruising couple who left the US not so long ago. J
My favorite boat yard chore: removing the tape after painting
Irie is cleaned, scraped, sanded, washed, painted and waxed. She is stain- and scum-free and “as good as new”. The sail drives underwent the same procedure with different paint and had their seals and thru hulls replaced, and the rudders received new bushings. We were lucky to have another cruiser fix a rip in our jib (which, unfortunately needs replacing) and even managed to bake bread (there is no food on this island) and do laundry. And right now, we are back in the water, relieved about our successful haulout and our shorter project list, and … we are ready to see and enjoy some of these Tuamotus, also called “the dangerous archipelago”!
Getting “settled” close to shore before getting on the trailer
Irie getting pulled out of the water by the tractor
Being moved to “our shady spot”
Hermit crabs abound – we have never seen or avoided stepping on so many of them (especially at night)!
The “cocktail pier” during nice and mellow weather
Anaho keeping us company and being cute next to one of our rudders
Nini shoveling the coral to clear the boat ramp
As good as new and almost ready… And very pretty! J
Rudders back in place. Now we are ready to splash (launch)!
Irie getting back in the water (photo by Pauline Lau)
Good overview of the haulout facility – yes, those black spots are shallow reefs (photo by Pauline Lau)
There we go! Irie back in the water where she belongs… (Photo by Pauline Lau)
It was mid-April when Mark and I arrived in Tahiti with Irie,
after many months of being in French Polynesia. Just like every cruising boat
that stops in this developed island with the biggest city we had seen since
Panama City more than a year prior, our list of boat projects was big and our
online-to-do-agenda even bigger. Of course, our priority back then was getting
Mark to a specialist with a long visit to the States – and break from the boat
– as a result. But, before that decision was made and from the moment we
arrived back on our floating home in Tahiti mid-August, life was super busy.
We checked in with customs and the harbor master, dealt with
Mark’s “carte de séjour” (his residency card- usually Americans can only stay
in the country for three months), bought and installed new anchor chain, replaced some running rigging, fixed the raw
water pump on one of the engines, acquired material to stuff our brand new
cockpit cushion covers, re-attached a wood panel in one of the bunks, filtered bad
fuel, and worked on personal projects. After a lot of walking and searching, we
found and fixed the wooden board under the sliding door. We did an extensive
“spring cleaning”, scrubbed the waterline every two weeks, and filled our boat
back up with food and drinks. We ordered a new jib online (not an easy feat to
get all the measurements right), bought miscellaneous parts in the local Ace
hardware stores and chandleries, and made multiple trips to the hospital and
several doctors. 
In the meantime and since we have been back on Irie, the
usual chores never end: laundry, grocery shopping, cleaning, cooking, dishes,
maintenance… Though tasks like this take up about an hour or so when you live
ashore, on a boat, every single one of them can add up to half a day if not
more. Sometimes you have to work around the weather (rain, heavy wind, choppy
anchorage), so tasks you planned on doing are postponed once again… We were
immediately sucked into the boat life with engine and outboard maintenance, a
stove top replacement, the installation of a new toilet seat and solenoid,
cleaning the decks and the waterline (yet again and ongoing – the Pacific is
rich with nutrients), getting gasoline, diesel and water, filling our fridge
and cupboards while spending a lot of money, hoisting our new jib on a windlass
morning, helping our friends with their rigging project, and so on. 
Having decent WiFi is a must for us, and Tahiti offers it at
a high price. Almost everything is expensive in French Polynesia: a load of
laundry costs $5, plus $15 to use the facilities (Tahiti Yacht Club), or $9 with a chance that your mooring breaks loose (Taina Marina), a gallon of gasoline is $8, canned products cost about $2
a piece, fresh meat and alcohol – other than beer - are unaffordable, so we
stick to vegetables and subsidized foods, like baguettes, chicken, rice and
pasta, and are very selective about what we buy. We rarely go out for dinner,
but we do spend about $80 a month on internet, however. Yes, our priorities are
a bit different from others out here. :-)
After a three month break from the boat life, we have
re-established our habits and customs of 7 years of cruising aboard Irie. The
saltwater bucket is introduced again for dishes, we shower in the ocean and
rinse with fresh water from our sun shower, we lower the dinghy and drive ashore
for errands and lift it back up at night, we are very careful using water and
electricity, we keep an eye on the position of our solar panels, listen to the
buzzing of the wind generator and collect rainwater, we have a hard time
finding things in our fridge, we watch movies on our laptop and each time we
need some item out of a cupboard or the fridge, we have to move several other
things first. And, there is the fact that we are long not retired and have to be
able to survive, of course.
The “tradition” of spending days on end on our computers was
started when we arrived in the US in May (well, we actually started this habit, commitment
and “need” about 5 years ago!), and continues back on the boat here in the
Society Islands. I have been writing a lot and articles are being published in
well-respected and prominent sailing magazines, while Mark is extremely busy
with computer and Wirie work. Yes, he is still running, and working on, the
business (The Wirie) we started in 2009, and some days – as you can imagine –
this is harder than others. 
With so much stuff going on – and our lives being so different
from other cruisers – I sometimes wonder why we choose to live on a boat. Add
to that weeks of crappy weather (a lot of wind and rain did fill our boat
batteries and fresh water tank, thank you, but now we are ready for some sun!) –
it will take a while to get our tan back – and an easier and more comfortable
lifestyle comes to mind. But, then there will be some pleasant weather, the
misty and impressive view we have been staring at turns into the scene of a
hiking adventure, or a marine animal will cross our path. And, we smile in
admiration and appreciation at the life we have chosen. It is the path less
taken, less lived, and less convenient, but it can be pretty rewarding! 
