Huahine’s Best Kept Secret

When Mark and I were driving south to Avea Bay with Irie a few weeks ago, we spotted a pretty looking beach to port. Apart from a local boat dragged upon the white sand, the area was deserted. Three new mooring balls had been placed in front of the beach, clear of the shallowest coral patches. We poked our nose in to check it out, liked what we saw, and agreed to stop here on the way back north to Fare. The bay would be a good weekend destination, since WiFi was not available, but we could still grab emails over a slow 2G connection (thanks to our Wirie^pro :-)).

So, last weekend, we motored up to this special place. Irie was the only boat to pick up a mooring and onshore, a local family was hanging out on the beach and having fun in the shallow water. It didn’t take long before we donned our snorkel gear and jumped into the refreshing, turquoise water. We explored some of the reefs, where – despite the poor visibility – we could make out some interesting fish and creatures. The closer to the beach, the warmer the water, and most of the way, it felt as if we were swimming in a bath tub. Not as refreshing as expected! On the beach, we met Siki, the caretaker of this government owned property. He told us many stories, "animatedly" drawing numbers in the sand to explain something further. For the rest of the afternoon, I practiced my French and Mark learned a thing of two, being immersed in the language. One of the other beach visitors happened to be a Frenchman who gave us a ride back to Haapu a couple of weeks ago. Huahine is a small island!

That night, we saw the sun set and the moon rise to the chatter of birds in the jungle-like vegetation onshore. Later on, there wasn’t a sound and the sea was flat. We couldn’t even hear the breaking reefs, since the ocean swell had been minimal. No wind means no waves… It also means that it is incredibly hot, inside as well as outside. The peace was complete in this little piece of heaven. No locals playing music on the beach, no smoking fires, no commotion or traffic noise. When we went to bed, I even turned off our little bathroom fan and hid the loud ticking clock of our bedroom. Total silence and nobody around; this is one of the main reasons to live on a boat!

The second day of our stay, we took the dinghy to shore before 8am, to go for a hike before the sun was out in force. It was already incredibly hot, but we hoped for some shade on the trail. Siki arrived with his va’a (outrigger canoe), loaded with bags of coconuts. He had been collecting them since 4:30am. It was one of his jobs and a cargo ship was due to arrive the same day to transport the coconuts to Tahiti. He showed us how to reach the viewpoint close by and explained a thing or two about the resort that used to occupy this slice of paradise. A cyclone had wiped it out in the nineties and some remnants were still visible. The view from the top of the rock was pretty nice!

Afterwards, Siki lead us over an overgrown path, hacking away with his machete, to a dirt road. We followed it, meeting locals along the way, and took in more views of Bourayne Bay. He was taking us to a wild patch of pumpkins, but once we arrived, none were to be found. The track was being widened and the pumpkin patches diminished. We caught up with the main road around Huahine Iti, before turning back and taking a different trail to the beach. It is possible to get here overland, but the path is hard to find. The only other way to reach this nice stretch of beach is by boat. Right before returning to the bay, Siki hacked down an enormous stack of bananas and carried it to our dinghy. Mark and I rinsed the stack in the salty lagoon to get rid of any critters (and saw a massive spider run away over the water) before loading the dinghy up. We were also given some papayas.

Uru (breadfruit)

Later that day, we brought some stuff to shore to give to Siki. He promised to swing by in his va’a the following morning with an uru (breadfruit), knocked two young coconuts out of a tree for us, and handed me a bracelet he made earlier. Sure enough, after we woke up and got started with some work the next morning, we heard someone call “ia orana!” Siki’s head popped up and he off loaded his canoe, dunking everything in salt water first: breadfruit, pamplemousses, limes, and a massive soursop. We couldn’t thank him enough (mauruuru, mauruuru, mauruuru!) and promised to return in the future. With a boat full of fresh fruit, but nothing else to eat, we headed back to Fare, Huahine’s only “city” and supermarket.

Irie moored at Hana Iti beach

Siki transporting bags of collected coconuts on his va'a

One more climb to get to the top of the rock for a nice view

Bourayne Bay, cutting Huahine in half

Papaya trees are everywhere on Huahine!

Siki trying to find a pumpkin for us

Can you believe this bamboo is only a few years old?

Siki handing Mark an enormous stack of bananas

Going home with what is easily the biggest stack of bananas we were ever given!

 

Spotted boxfish (male)

Humongous sea cucumber with his mouth open

Pretty patch of coral

Yellow boxfish (young adult) hiding

Yellow boxfish checking me out

Massive soursop (courasol)

Free bananas on Irie!

Marquesas - Tuamotus: Day 2 - All about Wind

:lat=-12.562500:lon=-143.258133:
Time: 1735UTC, COG 220T, SOG 6.0kts, Distance Remaining: 276nm

We had to ask our fellow traveler to leave. He spent the night on one of our solar panels and was still cleaning his feathers there, when the sun rose higher and higher. Any shadow on the panel - even the one of a bird - restricts its input greatly and we need all the electricity we can get. The wind generator is hardly doing anything in this kind of breeze. Yes, we should have charged those boat batteries before we left...

Today, the wind was lighter than predicted, but its angle being 30° off - in the "wrong direction" (more behind us) - had bigger consequences for our speed. We did manage to keep both sails up, but moved slowly towards our destination. We have always said "It's better to have a comfortable trip that takes a bit longer, than a fast and bumpy one!" On this journey, however, if we don't make it in four days and six hours, we will have to "stay out" another 16 hours. I will explain why in another blog. It might be time to fly that spinnaker when the sun comes up!

When you sail, it is all about the wind. Forget the rain in squalls. Sure, it is wet and inconvenient, but it is the wind in them that messes things up. The same goes for waves and swell. The sea would be dead calm if it isn't for the wind. The harder it blows, the more uncomfortable the ocean becomes and the choppier the anchorages get. The wind decides how fast you sail and where you can go. And, how comfortable the ride is.

I realize the weather is not always perfect in the Caribbean, but at least the predictions are pretty accurate and the wind consistent. Often, we arrived at our destination quicker than planned and the trips were straightforward. That might have had something to do with the fact that we never had the wind behind us going up and down the island chain, but, nevertheless, unobstructed by land, the wind was reliable. Downwind sailing is easier, but slower, and we have been looking forward to it on this ocean.

The wind can be your friend, your enemy or your acquaintance. When we plan our trips, it is based on the wind promising to be our best friend, if not a good friend. That's why we leave when we leave! Once at sea, reality kicks in and the wind becomes more of an acquaintance. It pushes us along and is
friendly enough to help us out, but it doesn't go out of its way or really cares about us getting there fast or direct. At some intervals it becomes our enemy, working against us with annoying shifts, becoming fluky or dropping out altogether. Or by going crazy, blowing hard and kicking up the seas. Luckily that doesn't happen too often and - knock on wood - real storms have stayed away.

As for tonight, the wind seems to have freshened a bit. It appears to do so after the sun is down and we hope to make up some speed during these twelve hours. After a few squalls, I am settling into my nightly routine. In the Caribbean, a squall meant shortening sail and picking up speed. Here in the Pacific, a squall causes wind shifts and then sucks up everything, leaving the boat bobbing aimlessly, sails flogging, boom banging, until the previous conditions resume. Usually.

All our fruit has turned yellow. Maybe I should have specified our preference of unripe fruit when asking for it? No scurvy for us, and if someone would like to share our 70 ripe bananas, 4 full-size papayas, 8 sweet and juicy grapefruits or 10 massive mangoes, you know where to find them: about halfway between Ua Pou and Apataki!

Explorations around Hapatoni, Tahuata

Teii is a Marquesan man from Tahuata, who lives in Hanatefau Bay, the place where sailboats anchor to visit Hapatoni and surroundings. He lives in a little hut onshore. It is a beautifully located wooden structure with two walls and a roof. The only things inside are his mattress with a mosquito net draped around it, some neatly folded clothes on a shelf and some utensils. He has an outdoor kitchen area, a fire pit and a fresh water spring with an unlimited supply of lovely tasting water. Apart from the hordes of mosquitoes it is a cool place indeed, facing the onshore breeze. “Do you get wet when it rains?” was one of the questions we had for him. He does, but then he just moves further away from the part that gets wet.

One afternoon Teii invited us and some other cruisers over for lunch/dinner. Since he is located on a lee shore with massive boulders bordering the bay, landing the dinghy and ourselves was a wet and slippery affair. But, we made it and he had plenty of fresh water to rinse off. The afternoon was social and pleasant, with tasty local food – fatty pork boiled in salt water and coconut milk, bananas boiled in water and rice. We brought some homemade alcohol and a precious box of wine, which he and his cousin were very happy about. By the time we clambered the rocks back to our dinghy, the sun reached the horizon and the tide had dropped. Waves had been crashing into our little inflatable, which had been pushed back and forth onto the boulders. Not a great scene. The dinghy was half full of seawater, the fuel tank floated upside down and the stern anchor was stuck in the rocks. Luckily, the engine did start and we made it home safely, with our rusty stern anchor. We vowed never to visit Teii this way again.

The following day, the family of SV Iona, and Mark and I put the dinghies at the protected dock of Hapatoni, about ¾ mile south of the anchorage, and walked to Teii’s place through the cute village and over the hill. He was awaiting us and led us to well-hidden petroglyphs in the humid forest.  A big stack of bananas became ours, when he hacked the tree down above the ancient rock. An easy way to get to the fruit! Afterwards, he whacked the tree in pieces with his machete and shoved it into the forest to clean up the mess. Since every banana tree only carries one stack of bananas, this is the way it is done. He joined us into the village, where we met one of his cousins, a traditional dancer and artist. Together we gathered some avocadoes, coconuts, limes, a breadfruit and soursop. The day proved to be another good example of the hospitality and friendliness of the Marquesans, and I got to practice my French.

After a day of rest and boat chores, it was time again for more exercise. Mark, Chris, Katie, Leili and I (Chris’ son Dylan stayed home, tired after all the hiking from the previous days) followed a different rocky road out of town and kept climbing until we reached the crest of a big hill. The views were nice and, despite the heat and the humidity, we all felt good after the effort. Another stack of bananas was retrieved the local way to guarantee our vitamin intake and to replace the pamplemousses and oranges from Hanamoenoa. Once our fruit is finished, we’ll have to head back there!

Irie in the Hanatefau anchorage

Irie facing sunset and the ocean – on a lee shore

Cemetery of Hapatoni village

Church of Hapatoni

A neat path out of Hapatoni village

This landslide recently took place and – unfortunately – colors the bay brown

After a snorkel along the edge of the Hanatefau bay

Tricky landing and dinghy parking to visit Teii

Lunch at Teii´s place: Teii, cousin Mark, Pierre, Liesbet and dog “Mon Chien”

Pierre starts Teii’s grill

Chris, Katie, Leili (on Katie’s back) and Teii before our walk to the petroglyphs

Marquesan petroglyphs in the forest

Ancient spot to mix natural paints and sharpen tools

Katie and Leili visiting Irie for some fresh pretzels

View of Hanatefau Bay and the sailboats from the hike up a hill

One of the roads out of Hapatoni village

 

Food and Entertainment

The weather has cleared up a bit, here in Hanamoenoa, Tahuata, but a decent swell is still rolling into the bay, making landings with the dinghy on the beach quite challenging. The manta rays have not come back (yet) and the weather has been too crappy to go for a snorkel or a dinghy excursion. This means that our time had to be filled with other entertainment.

One evening, Valentine and Thor on SV Yum Yum, who we briefly met in the Galapagos months ago, invited everyone in the bay over for "movie night". Loaded with popcorn and drinks, we all gathered in the cockpit of their roomy catamaran. Thor had installed a massive screen and soon we were enjoying the movie "Chocolat" with superb quality, movie theater worthy! Only, we were in an uninhabited bay in the middle of the South Pacific. The only disappointing part was that, while looking at the giant representations of chocolate, candies and scrumptious food of a massive variety, we only had homemade popcorn and oven-baked cake, while we all craved more.

About every other day, someone decided to make dinner or lunch, so the eating was still good. It's amazing how creative one can be with a small selection of vegetables and staples. At least, Mark and I still had
vegetables. Plus, we started a new "green" experiment: sprouting beans. Fruit was another story. So, one afternoon, we bit the bullet and decided to go ashore with our dinghy to find vitamins. During a lull in the swell, we revved the engine, hit the beach, quickly jumped out and pulled as hard as we could. We avoided getting swamped, and, other than a wet bum for me from pulling the boat too strongly and not backing off quick enough, falling to the ground, we remained unscathed. Together, we set out exploring inland a bit and discovered a plethora of fruit trees. We collected pamplemousses (big, sweet grapefruits), oranges, mangoes, lemons and coconuts until we couldn't carry any more. Once back on the beach, the sea had "grown" substantially, massive breakers rolling and crashing onto the yellow sand. We decided to play safe (avoid getting flipped over by the foamy waves) and walk the dinghy out, past the rollers, pushing and swimming a bit more, before climbing - or slithering - back inside the tubes. Fully loaded with unripe fruit, we arrived back at Irie in one piece.

On Tuesday, the sun was back and the ocean seemed to be a bit more agreeable. Mark and I motored the dinghy along the southern shore of Tahuata, to visit its main town Vaitahu. Hopping ashore was a bit tricky, but we had a nice little walk. The town is very small and quiet, but it has a pretty, interesting looking church and a decent store with fresh French bread. Nothing too special, really, but it was a pleasant excursion and we got rid of our garbage, while obtaining some more food. In the afternoon, Irie was the only boat left in Hanamoenoa Bay and we truly enjoyed the peace and beauty all by ourselves. That was until our "dish washing bucket" broke after filling it in the sea and carrying it back into the cockpit. Gallons of salt water flooded our four plants, which were just starting to recover after previous incidents like falling in bleach, dealing with salty air during passages and waves entering the cockpit. Our snorkeling trip was rightfully delayed, while we tried to save our garden with lots of fresh water.

Sea Life in Hanamoenoa Bay, Tahuata (Marquesas)

When Mark and I first arrived in Hanamoenoa Bay in the island of Tahuata, after escaping the murky waters of Atuona, it appeared to be paradise. The anchor set easily in the sandy bottom, which we could see from 30 feet above. The water had a turquoise color, while the sandy beach ashore harbored many palm trees. According to the cruising guides, this bay was a cruisers' favorite with great snorkeling and fresh fruit and coconuts for the picking a few steps inland from the beach. It would be a great place to clean the inches of growth, collected during our week in Hiva Oa, off Irie's bottom.

After being a week in this pretty spot, we still have not been able to take the dinghy ashore and have spent most of our time indoors, on our boat or others, since it has been raining for days. Again. A relatively big swell has been rolling into the bay, making dinghy landings impossible, because of the crashing waves. The monohulls are rockin' and rollin', day and night. It became too uncomfortable for Pitufa, so they left. We are very happy to be on our cat! We barely feel the motion, can do any boat projects we prefer during the day and sleep like babies at night, especially after a social gathering.

So, what have we been doing the last week? Other than some boring projects and chores onboard, we had some amazing experiences early on. Last Sunday, when other cruisers in the bay decided to take their dinghy to a small town, 2 miles away, to attend a Marquesan church service, Mark and I and our friends from SV Kril decided to stay home. I wanted to finally sleep in. We would be glad with our choice. Mark got up around 7:30am, took a look outside and appeared back downstairs next to the bed. He grabbed his swim trunks, gave me a kiss and said "I'm going for a swim. There are manta rays near the boats." Now, how am I supposed to sleep in after hearing those words? After a quick look outside and seeing the tips of wings break the surface next to Mark and Michael from Kril, I - and Ursula - soon joined the group for a most awesome experience. For an hour, the four of us just hovered near the water surface and watched, photographed and filmed three majestic manta rays while they were feeding. Their massive mouths open and their wing spans as wide as our bodies were long, they didn't mind us as they approached, circled around, dove down and reappeared. As Ursula remarked: "We were just an obstacle in their soup." None of us needed to move, while the morning show took place. Amazing, and better than church!

Every late afternoon, we notice frigate birds hovering over the water and realize the tunas are back! We see groups of little fish "run" on the water surface with their tail, being attacked from above by a frigate bird - which is very successful in scooping a fish up with every dive without ever touching water - and from beneath by a much bigger predator. Then, a massive tuna surfaces, splashes on top of the water or - very spectacular! - leaps out in a perfect arc, pretending to be a dolphin, with a fish in its mouth! If only they did that close to Irie and we had a fishing net ready! One time, Mark jumped in the dinghy and trailed a line behind in the hopes of catching one of the chasers, but it was not to be.

We also snorkeled along the rocks a couple of times to see big amounts of colorful fish, and we swam ashore to be greeted by the infamous nonos, accompanied by mosquitoes. Nonos are tiny biting flies, renowned for hanging out on Marquesan beaches and keeping the tourists away, discouraging beach
vacations and beach parties. Next time we go hunting for fresh fruit, we will have to wait for the swell to settle down, put on long clothes and spray ourselves with bug repellent. Or, we can borrow Kril's full wetsuits, booties and hoods, in which they successfully scoured the beach and the woods yesterday!

Aukena: A Mix of Fun, Work, and Pretty Views (part 2)

After our successful rudder project (we’ll do the other one another time), Mark and I lifted both of our anchors and moved Irie back to our original anchoring spot off Aukena. Within a half hour of settling in the tight sandy spot and clear water, we went to shore to meet Antonio. Mark was serious about his work commitment, indeed! We borrowed a rake and a machete (cou cou in Mangarevan) and Antonio showed us the correct location and direction of the overgrown trail to the point. After he brought us a couple of papayas, a knife and a big bottle of rainwater to sustain ourselves, we rolled up our sleeves, put utility gloves on and started the task of clearing and cleaning up the path.

For four hours with a short lunch break in between, Mark hacked away with his new tool, picked up bigger debris on the trail, cut dead wood and overhanging branches and pulled weeds. I followed with the rake, turning the 1 km trail winding through the forest into one that is now easy to find and follow, without having to trip over roots and rocks, fall into holes or stumble over dead wood and fallen coconuts. It was a good workout, concluded with a rest on the pretty beach at the end and – for me – a short (no wetsuit!) snorkel along some amazing life coral and beautiful tropical fish. So far, the coral formations in this area seemed to be in the best shape.

The walk back to Antonio’s shed was an easy one! Our footsteps disturbed the freshly raked area and we hoped many more would follow.  We shared a beer with our new friend, who rewarded us for all the work with a mountain of fruit! In three runs, we managed to carry all the papayas, limes, bananas, coconuts and sugar cane to the dinghy. After splitting the bounty with Pitufa, it would still be hard to eat all this goodness before it went bad. We are still trying. Instead of a pamplemousse a day, we now devour a papaya, some bananas and a couple of limes daily. The project sure was a healthy one for the body, inside and out!

The following day was our last one on Aukena and Mark, Christian and I decided to climb the highest hill. According to Antonio, there was a trail to the top. Based on our experience with “the other trail”, we should have known better. Our guide showed us the way for about 20 minutes and then we were on our own, with no indication of where to go and how to go about it. As we’ve done twice before on other Gambier islands, the three of us ended up bush-wacking, crawling, slipping, scrambling, and scratching our way up, grabbing for roots, rocks and branches (sometimes to have them pulled out, crumble, or break) until we reached the pine trees on the ridge. From then on, the walk was made easier by the lack of vegetation. Once on the top, the view was spectacular. We rested a bit and waited for the sun to peek out, just enough to take a few pictures of the surrounding islands and shades of blue.

The trip down went faster, utilizing our butts often. We had collected a big amount of scratches (why wear long clothes when there is a “path”?), contributed to the pile of dirty cloths some more and were spent yet again. We didn’t mind staying indoors the rest of the afternoon. The sky turned grey and the wind picked up. It was time to return to our base camp in Rikitea to sit out some nasty weather again…

Mark taking a quick dip after the sweaty trail blazing

My personal coral garden along Aukena's south coast

Interesting formations and colors

Coral and fish alive!

Smooth golden trunkfish

Mark and Antonio, behind a bounty of fruit

Long clothes would have been better for this brushy hike up

The island of Akamaru as seen from the top of Aukena

Irie (left) and Pitufa (right) down in the anchorage

Where to store all our freshly obtained fruit and how to eat it all?

 Two pictures are needed to capture our healthy stores!