Life in the Tropical Climes of Huahine

At 6am, Mark’s internal clock wakes him up. Starting work early has three advantages: the cooler temperature still allows a decent level of concentration, office hours in the US and Europe are way ahead, and he doesn’t have me around to distract him. An hour or so later, I join him at the table to do some work on the computer as well, after having a look outside to appreciate the beautiful surroundings. Mid-morning, we have a small breakfast and then, it is back to our computers, or we do boat chores or run shore errands. It is already very hot and nothing can be done without sweat streaming down our faces, whether we are inside the boat or outside in the cockpit or on land.

After a late lunch, we feel lazy, but napping is not our thing, so we try to read, write emails or relax a bit, before it is shower time. We jump in the ocean around 4pm, when it is still hot enough to enjoy our “bath” and our towel has time left to dry outside. Sometimes we swim to the beach and back for some exercise, or, on a cloudy day, we go for a little walk to collect fruit. At 5pm the day is mostly done and we have a glass of yummy juice with a little snack, while we prepare and cook an early dinner. By 7pm, we are in bed. It is dark – the relentless sun finally gone - and we enjoy a TV show or a movie on the laptop. Mosquito netting keeps the buzzing creatures out. 9pm is bed time, and after a night with many interruptions because of rain, wind gusts, visiting cargo ships, noise on shore or waking up in sweat, the cycle starts over again.

Fridays are different. Mark drops me off in the town of Fare, where I try to sell some unneeded household items and make a bit of money for the evening happy hour at the Yacht Club - the happening place in French Polynesia. Sometimes, we grab a bite to eat as well, or we meet new friends, like last Friday, when Melissa and Scott invited us over for a fun evening on their boat Kaimana. Our last bottle of Tequila was put to good use, something we “regretted” the following day!

During this monotonous life in the tropics, we are surprised and inspired by the “special events” that occur once in a while. On the evening of Mardi Gras, our friends Marie and JP invited us over for traditional French crêpes on their boat Domino, and Chinese New Year was celebrated with fireworks in Fare – something that was absent here on December 31^st.

One morning, I rented a bike and pedaled up to the marae of Maeva. This time, I followed a hiking trail up a hill to see some different ruins. It was a pleasant walk, mostly in the shade, but the humidity was high in the jungle. To cool off, I biked to the edge of motu Ovarei and snorkeled the coral garden, which held some pretty surprises. The ride back at noon was brutal without any shade, but at home, more refreshing salt water awaited!

On the weekend, we moved Irie back to Avea Bay, to celebrate Mark’s birthday and to prepare for our sail back to Tahiti.

Va'a in Fare

Marie of MV Domino, making yummy crepes

Marie and JP on MV Domino, their impressive, self-built motor yacht

MV Domino in Fare's mooring field

Va'a at dusk with Raiatea in the distance

Loads of coconut husks, after the coconuts are taken out to export as/for copra

View from motu Ovarei towards the mainland of Huahine

Marae Manunu on the motu

Windward coast along motu Ovarei

Hot and sweaty ride back to town along the airport

Local vendors pass the time playing ukuleles

The water off Fare (and Huahine) looks beautiful

Snorkel time, off motu Ovarei

Orange-finned anemone fish brushing against an anemone

Sixbar wrasses on the reef

Passage ways through the coral reefs

Fakarava to Tahiti – A Two Day Trip in Pictures

It took Irie 50 hours to sail from South Fakarava to Taina Marina in Papeete, Tahiti. Our experiences of that trip can be read in the posts underneath. The first 24 hours went well, then the conditions mellowed and the second night was a relatively slow one, with Tahiti waking up when we rounded the north coast. Once close to the land, where the mountains dominate, the wind disappeared slowly with us stubbornly sailing on at 2 knots, until it totally disappeared and we had to motor the last hour towards the mooring field. The sky was blue and the sea was flat. Tahiti, here we are!

Passing the resort in Tetamanu Village on our way out of Fakarava Lagoon

Fakarava south pass with the wind (15 knots) and the tide (2 knots) coming in - not too challenging!

Yvan Bourgnon passing us on the way to Tahiti in Ma Louloute, doing 14 knots!

Towards sunset on day 2, while flying the spinnaker, we caught a decent size mahi mahi (dorado)

Sailing west - into the sunset

Approaching Venus Point in Tahiti around 6am - the island is waking up

Irie still had to go a long and slow way to the east side of the island

Sunrise in our not too rippled wake

Moorea - 15 miles from Tahiti - at dawn

A whole bunch of fish before we reach the reef and the mooring field: time to throw out the fishing line one more time (in vain)

House boats inside the reef and Moorea in the background

Tuamotus - Societies: Day 2: Uneventful

Not sure what happened to the weather, but are we ever, here in the Pacific? The stationary front NOAA has been predicting for days either did not exist, or we sailed right  through it without noticing... Instead of the 20-25 knots from the east which we were anticipating, it has been blowing about 10 from the east-southeast, varying about 30° to keep us on edge. The drop in wind started last night - with some annoying boom banging and sail flogging - and is still present. We flew the spinnaker during the day, which pushed Irie forward at 4-5 knots. At the same speed we are now slowly closing in on Tahiti. No need to purposefully slow us down anymore; we plan to reach the coast at daybreak before moving on to Taina Marina. And, no need to complain in these mellow and comfortable conditions!

Other than some sail changes, mealtimes and naps, there is not much going on at sea. Oh yeah, we did catch a decent size mahi mahi (dorado) close to sunset, the cleaning up of which took some time. While the moon is getting fuller and the sky is as bright as ever, I can see the first lights of Tahiti. The hustle and bustle of Papeete, French Polynesia's capital, will soon engulf us. Mark and I plan to go crazy in the Carrefour Hypermarket (We haven't seen a big - and affordable - grocery store in 15 months), are looking forward to eating out (which we have done only once this year, right before we left Taiohae in Nuku Hiva) and plan to accomplish a few important and outstanding boat projects. We can't wait! :-)

Anse Amyot in the Toau Atoll

The things we do for internet! In the Caribbean we would move anchorages and make sure there is WiFi before we would stay a bit, but here, WiFi being VERY rare if not non-existent, it works differently… On Fridays, the post office in the village of Apataki is only open from 7:30 to 9:30 am. And, the post office is the only place where one can buy phone cards (“Vini cards”), which Mark and I use to get on the slow and unreliable 2G network. Even though it works poorer than in the remote Kuna Indians territory of the San Blas islands (believe it or not!), it is our only option of staying connected out here. We pay about $5 for 100Mb and depending on our location and the quality of the signal, this will last us two weeks or 2 days!

On this particular Friday with light winds, we left the boatyard area at 6am to slowly sail directly downwind to the village. We had to go east (to leave the lagoon) to go west. Within half a mile of the dock, before reaching the pass, we dropped the dinghy in relatively choppy waters and I quickly jumped in and drove to town to buy a few phone cards and highly needed supplies. Only, the store was closed, a frequent occurrence, so – for the first time ever – we relied mostly on cans for food the following week. Once the dinghy was strapped back on and the boat ready for another sail, we crossed the SW pass at slack tide and entered the ocean, while locals were wishing us “bon voyage”.

Based on weather reports it was supposed to be a comfortable, easy, 3 hour sail, in 10-15 knots of NE winds - upwind in one tack - to reach Anse Amyot in Toau. Sails up and engines off, we pointed Irie’s bow to our destination, only to find out that this was definitely not going to work! The wind came from the SE, the exact direction of where we needed to go. What followed was a seven hour sail tacking back and forth (all the way to the back or ocean side of the boatyard!), covering another 50 miles, instead of the required 17. The weather was lovely, the wind speed perfect and the sea conditions comfortable, but, at the end, we still needed to motor for an hour to make the mooring field before dark.

Anse Amyot has a very easy approach, with no pass or currents to worry about. You have the option of picking up one of the dozen or so mooring balls for about $7 a night (or acceptable and favored goods by the owners of the balls) or for free if you eat a meal ashore when their restaurant is open, or of anchoring between the coral heads. Since we have decided to go for “easy” wherever possible in the Tuamotus, we grabbed a mooring ball, which, because the wind died the next two days, took off some of our fresh paint immediately and kept going bang bang bang against the pristine blue hull. Still better than being surrounded and splattered by an oil slick like the previous two times after we put antifouling on, though! The flies were horrendous until the wind picked up again.

Irie on a mooring ball in the reef strewn waters

During the calm days, the sea was flat and of the clearest blue. The water of the lagoon so azure that the underside of the wings of white birds appeared to be blue from the reflection! Snorkeling was amazing, with healthy corals – whole “forests” of it - and a multitude of colorful fish; the occasional reef shark sneaking by, big groupers strolling about and sucking remoras favoring Irie’s bottom. When the weather turned nasty again, the place was well protected and comfortable enough to sleep at night. The fresh breeze filled our boat batteries; the rain our fresh water tank.

Coral gardens

Over the weekend, the owners of the mooring field (Valentine and Gaston) and their neighbors (four people in total living on this motu) left to go vote in Fakarava, one of the biggest atolls in the Tuamotus. Mark and I cooked meals for the dogs and split coconuts with an axe to feed the pigs. We made sure all the animals had enough to eat and, on the hottest day, took an extra trip ashore to “shower” the panting pigs and piglets with rainwater from the barrel. It felt great to take care of the property and the animals and it made us long for a simple life ashore.

Mark splitting matured coconuts near the pig pen

Once the weather clears up and the wind has a northern twitch to it (in the forecasts anyway), we will try to reach Fakarava, about 45 miles from here and hopefully no more than a day sail away. There, based on written and personal reports, a few stores, “decent” internet and world class snorkeling await us. It is one of the highlights in the Tuamotus and we hope to spend a decent amount of time there.

Greeting Rocky on the dock of Valentine and Gaston

Fish abound in the Pacific!

Healthy coral is easier to find than in Caribbean waters

Group of Remoras living with and under Irie

Pigs and piglets love coconuts (or don’t know of any other food)

One of Gaston’s fish farms

The resident dogs of Anse Amyot awaiting our arrival

Going for a walk with the dogs in the palm rich interior, on the sharp coral ground – we haven’t seen any sand in the Tuamotus yet!

Some facts about Irie's Pacific Crossing

If you have never crossed an ocean, and 6-8 foot waves are all you've experienced while sailing (as was the case with us, prudent Caribbean sailors, always waiting for a good weather window to move), the Pacific will be an eye opener. Whatever its name indicates or whichever stories you have heard, this is real ocean sailing. This ocean is not a peaceful one (where did that name come from?) and should not be underestimated. Cross swells of over 12 feet, winds of 30 knots, confused seas, bumpy wind chop and squalls are very common. We were on all points of sail at some time or another and could not stay on course regularly either, when the wind came from dead behind or in front of us. Some days are sunny; the nights are chilly.

Irie's passage can be broken down into 5 parts: a few days of being becalmed in flat seas and barely moving, eleven days of uncomfortable and unsettled conditions, while making good, but bumpy progress, a couple of fair "transition" days, three days of comfortable and peaceful, albeit slow sailing, and two awful days of beating into wind and waves during stormy, squally, windy and frustrating (many wind shifts, constantly varying wind speed, high and rough seas) weather when a front/low pressure system passed overhead.

Amongst cruisers, this particular trip west is called "the Milk Run" because it is supposed to be an easy, straighforward, downwind journey. For us it was as much a milk run as there was a milk man around: not. I do have to specify here that Mark and I sailed from the Galapagos to the Gambier islands, instead of the Marquesas, French Polynesia's most popular arrival destination. The route to these more northern islands is said to be less challenging than the one to the Gambiers. Reports of frequent squalls and confused seas reached us from that area as well, though, but no fronts go that far north and you don't sail on a beam reach (uncomfortable wind and waves from the side).

Irie Trip info and tidbits:

* Route: Galapagos islands - Gambier islands, French Polynesia

* Distance: 2938 miles

* Time: 21 days, 0 hours, 0 minutes (May 7 - May 28th, 2013 )

* Hours under engines: 12 (half getting into the anchorage of Rikitea)

* Hours under sail: 492

* Average speed: 5.8 knots

* Wind direction: SSE-SE-E-ENE, when front passes: all directions

* Wind speed: an average of a perfect 15 knots, but we never saw 15 knots, instead it blew a weak 10 knots or a heavy 25-35 knots!

* Squalls: 42

* Favorable current: 0 knots: a few days + 0.5, a few days - 0.5 early on

* Sail configuration: spinnaker, main (reefed at night and during heavy weather) and jib

* Sail changes: multiple times a day.

* Gallons of diesel used: 9

* Gallons of water used: 47, including 5 gallons to rinse off after showering and 2 gallons for laundry

* Other boats encountered: 2

* Objects encountered: 1 floating pole with a black flag, some garbage, and one whale shark (we think)

* Planes spotted: none

* Fish caught: 1; a smallish mahi mahi, too rough to fish most of the time

* Lures lost: 3

* Sea life "scooped up": 5 squid, 38 flying fish

* Flying fish whacking Mark on their way into the cockpit: 3

* Time zones traveled through: 3

* Latitude travel: from 1°S to 23°S

* Longitude travel: from 90° 58' to 134° 58' W

* Days of having fun: Mark: 1, Liesbet: 4

* Seasickness medicine taken (Liesbet, who used to be very prone to motion sickness): 5 days - 3 days preventive, 2 because of nausea

* Sky: blue, grey or black

* Water: deep blue

* Waves hitting the bridgedeck: Too many to count

* Books read: Mark 6, Liesbet: 1

* Movies watched: Mark 7, Liesbet: 2

* Casualties ("boat bites"): bloody toes, scratched eye, bruised legs, bumped heads, sore knees, burnt arm - nothing serrious or unusual

* Things we have learned/realized during this passage:

  - Why people take planes to cover 3000 miles

  - How long one can go without a shower (6 days)

  - That it takes a long time of not washing up before one gets smelly (> 6 days) *

  - That we really, never ever get bored; I was going to remove my "Boobie blue" nail polish from my toes, one toe every day. I arrived in the Gambiers with 8 blue toes and the trip sure took longer than 2 days...

  - That crossing the Pacific Ocean is not a leisurely "sit back, relax, and enjoy the weather and the ride" kind of sail

  - That this was the longest amusement park ride of our lives (not in a fun way)

  - That sailing is not easy

  - That the wind is never consistent

  - That living in a "stable" house with conveniences must be so nice

  - That it was much colder than expected, especially at night. Winter clothes and comforter needed!

  - That a passage to the Marquesas would have been easier and more comfortable (a confirmation of what we knew)

  - That the days are short and the nights long (Southern Hemisphere winter)

  - That there is little time or energy to do the things you like or plan to do, because of exhaustion or sea state

  - That the Pacific doesn't harbor as much wildlife (whales, dolphins, ...) as we thought

  - That one cannot be in a hurry

* in non-sweaty, Southern Hemisphere conditions

A Magnificent Sail

Mark and I moved from Contadora, the “main” and most touristy island of Las Perlas, to the east side of the biggest island in the chain: Isla del Rey. The distance was only about 15 miles and all we hoped for was some wind and no current against us, something we seemed to always “time right”, meaning it has been taking us forever each time to switch anchorages, even though the distances are short.

On this beautiful sunny day with deep blue skies and not a white puff of a cloud, we had a magnificent sail. Not in the way of speed or it being invigorating – there just is not enough wind for that in this area, gone are the trade winds -  but magnificent in the way of our surroundings. There was barely 6 knots of wind from the north, so behind us, and we had pulled the spinnaker up. The seas were flat; the ride was smooth, comfortable and very pleasant. We didn’t mind only doing 2.5 knots, one or more of which was current; the brand new autopilot didn’t mind doing all the work.

It took us about 7 hours to reach our next destination Espiritu Santo, but the last couple of hours were filled with entertainment on top of relaxation. While Devil Rays were jumping and doing summer saults all around us (they leap out of the water and do acrobatics in the air!), we spotted some whales in the distance. Through binoculars, we saw them take turns breathing (“Look at the water spout!”), breaching (“Wow, he’s coming out of the water”), sliding along the surface (“His body is huge!”) and disappearing (“Watch the forked tail!”). It was an awesome spectacle and we are starting to believe the stories about an abundance of sea life in the Pacific Ocean.

We also noticed big, turbulent spots in the water, where hundreds of fish had gathered. The areas looked like breaking waves. Unfortunately, we were going too slow to catch anything. I should probably mention the birds as well: pelicans, frigate birds, birds of prey, they are ever-present at all times of the day and in large numbers. The other day, I spent an hour on the beach and counted at least ten different species of birds, while lying on my back in the powdery sand. To finally be surrounded by all these amazing creatures is a joy and – for me – one of the main reasons why I (still) live on a boat!