Marquesas - Tuamotus: Day 3 - From Fun to Frustration

:lat=-14.079483:lon=-144.466200:
Time: 1735UTC, COG 214T, SOG 4.0kts, Distance Remaining: 162nm

The first two days of a longer voyage are always the hardest. You have to get used to constantly being in motion, having to hold on to something at all times and staying up half of the night. All you really want to do is sleep; there is not much interest in anything else and the night shifts take forever. On day three some kind of routine has been established and you feel more inclined to do something productive, like taking a shower, making more fruit salad, or fish, for example.

From the moment the sun came up, we flew our spinnaker (colorful light air sail), while being able to keep the main sail in place. We managed to maintain five knots of speed in ten knots of wind and stayed on course. Not bad! It was a lovely day with sunshine and blue skies, void of squalls. The
sea was as comfortable as it gets, while still being "sailable" and we both enjoyed the ride. We did have to run the engine for a bit to charge the batteries, a necessary evil, but easier than rigging our little generator up.

In the afternoon, Irie drove through a big school of tuna. We did hook one: a fat and tasty yellow fin! But, from the moment we hauled him aboard, he got off the hook. No sushi for us - what a shame and disappointment. Luckily, we still had other food, which we cooked ahead of time. And, lots
of fruit, of course. :-)

Because of the light winds, we wanted to fly the spinnaker as long as possible during the day. Just as I finished up the dishes and we were ready to take the sail down, a squall surprised us with some wind and lots of rain; the exact situation you try to avoid when the spinnaker is in place (and the reason we take it down at night)... With fluky winds, it might end up in the water, where you can run over it, or in heavy winds, it might rip. In this case, we saved it from dipping in the salty ocean and managed to take it down. Everything - us included - was soaking wet, and enjoying turned into annoying.

The wind never restored itself and with the jib instead of the spinnaker we lost speed regardless. During Mark's shift, we moved 10° off course at 4 knots. At midnight, it was my turn at the helm and I was welcomed by a radar screen cluttered with squalls. One rainstorm after the other arrived, sucking out the little wind we had. For hours I sat in the rain and wished for the wind to come back. Floating on an ocean doing less than 2 knots is frustrating to say the least. Not only are you not making any progress, but - no matter how calm the sea - the incessantly flapping sails and erratically banging rigging would drive the most patient person crazy! Plus, no sleep for the person off watch either.

Finally, some breeze arrived, albeit 50° more northerly than predicted, which had us sailing 35° off course. Not something we could make up easily. I watched the phenomenon for another hour and then decided to get rid of the jib all together and adjust course. We had lost enough time and ground. And that's where we are at right now: sailing along at 3 knots and still 15° off course. When the sun wakes up at 6am, we will hang our spinnaker out to dry, if it is not too squally. The mainsail will have to come down and then there's hoping for another fun sail and making Apataki in time...

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!