Hauled out at Apataki Carenage - As Flat As It Gets

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)

One Step Closer to Hauling Out

The only reason Mark and I started our Tuamotu cruise in the atoll of Apataki is because they have a haul out facility here and we planned to take Irie out of the water to improve a few things under the waterline and to paint her bottom again. Yes, we did this a little over a year ago in Panama, to avoid having to do it again in French Polynesia, but the Pacific Ocean is a harsh environment for sailboat bottoms! The passages are long, taking a bit of paint off every trip, and the growth of algae and other green slime is gigantic, especially in the Marquesas. So much so, that we had to spend 1-2 hours a week cleaning the waterline and scraping Irie’s bottom, in the dark, seasick making harbors.

What we had in mind was to enter the lagoon of Apataki upon arrival, spend a few days on a mooring of the boatyard to rest and acclimatize and then get hauled in the beginning of March. It didn’t quite work out that way. For ten days, we moved to all corners of the atoll, dealing with crappy weather and uncomfortable anchorages. We learned they couldn’t haul boats in anything other than NE to SE winds – it was blowing hard from the N and NW those days - and not too strong at that. And, that they actually couldn’t haul boats at all presently, because the storms had kicked up coral on the boat ramp that needed to get cleared with the tractor, which was waiting for a replacement part.

Super crappy 6-hour motor trip from the village to the NW of Apataki

At the village dock, we had a stable, horizontal experience which didn’t last long due to weather. After a hair rising and uncomfortable six hour trip, we arrived at Apataki’s NW shore and found flat waters for a couple of days, until the wind shifted a bit to the east and we were rocking again, all the while having to listen to the chain grating over coral or rock, 55 feet down, and stressing about getting the anchor or the chain jammed in its crevices. It was too deep to see what was going on. With difficulties, we managed to retrieve our anchor, which was wrapped around two coral heads, and no damage was done. We later learned that our neighbor broke his massive windlass while trying to up anchor! The reward for last week’s hassles were some patches of reef which were incredibly colorful and teaming with fish, making them worthwhile to explore and snorkel.

Finally some colorful and healthy reefs!

It was a beautiful, sunny day when we sailed the 17 miles from the NW corner of Apataki to the boatyard on the south, traversing the lagoon. Google Earth helped us plot a course around the reefs and the visibility was great. All the conditions were perfect for a fun and relaxed sail to our destination; the only downfall being all the pearl farm buoys along the way. Having to hand steer, be on the look-out in the blazing sun for three hours, straining our eyes and avoiding floats cannot be called “relaxing”, but it was a lovely sail apart from that.

Constantly watching for pearl farm floats

Once we picked up a mooring ball in front of Apataki Carenage, we soon found out that this part of the lagoon is as choppy as ever. Irie was bouncing all over the place, making sleeping difficult. As a result, we can’t wait to get hauled out of the water, which must be a first in history! Nobody looks forward to spend a week or more on the hard, where it is humid and hot, with no breeze and with plenty of mosquitoes and other creepy crawlies. But, hey, at least the boat will stop moving for a change. Imagine not having to hold on each time you walk around your house and try to be productive… I think that is worth some extra sweating and scratching at this point!

Apataki Carenage, the “prettiest” boatyard in the world

NW shore of Apataki

One of the many giant clams

In the Tuamotus black tip and white tip sharks are abundant. This picture is taken from the beach.

Cooling off (and keeping the sharks company) after cleaning the bottom of our dinghy

Snorkel time!

Regal angelfish – so pretty…

Roundhead parrotfish (initial stage)

Moorish idol

My coral garden – a short swim away from Irie

Going for a walk near the “carenage” – the beaches are made of dead coral

Our new friend Anaho

And It Did Get Worse

Didn’t I say we were safe at the dock of Apataki village? And that we could sit this weather system out over there? Well, I was wrong. And, didn’t I say that things can always be worse? Here, I was right!

With all the rain, the dock was a bit cleaner, and with a steady north wind, the mosquitoes stayed away, while we were pinned to shore. Every three hours – day and night - we needed to adjust our fenders, because of the tides moving Irie up and down and the funky currents moving us forward and backward. But, it was flat and comfy. On our first day of planned rest, we discovered that our credit card was used fraudulently, somewhere in the US. Great… This seems to happen to everyone at least once, but how do you deal with it from the middle of the Pacific?

The advantage of “living” in a village is that you can just walk off the boat and enter the one phone booth. Unfortunately, in French Polynesia, you cannot call an operator for a collect call from public phones, as we found out soon enough. To make a long, tedious, patient and frustrating story short: it took us ALL day to get through to an operator from a landline of a friendly villager to call our US bank collect. After the last hour, we understood that they would send new cards to Mark Kilty, Poste Restante, Village Niutahi, 98762 Apataki, Tuamotus, French Polynesia! We will see if and how that materializes!

During the night that followed, a massive squall hit us. 30+ knots of north wind smashed us against the dock and churned up the channel. Generally a pretty well protected spot from the North, East and South, the combination high winds and funky currents created chaos and Irie was wildly pitching attached by four lines to a cement dock. Again, not a good scene and this time, there was no getting away, even if we wanted to. Luckily, the storm only lasted half an hour, but we learned our lesson.  

When I jumped ashore to fix the fenders again at 4:30am – straight out of bed, so buck naked – there was already a fisherman on the dock. Oooops.  In the morning – after retrieving the latest weather forecast with 20 – 30 knots of predicted northwest winds (add 5 knots to be more accurate) – we decided to leave once more. Just imagine 48 hours of what had been crazy and dangerous during 30 minutes. The only other alternative was an anchorage at the north end of the atoll, 15 miles away. We hoped to get there in three hours…

Since we needed to leave immediately, there was no way of waiting for less wind or slack tide. A few strong guys pushed us off the dock and there we went! In strong opposing currents of 4 knots, Irie was jerkily pushed left and right. Mark did a great job steering us through the eddies (little whirlpools) and preventing us to turn sideways. The small engines were on full throttle, while we tried to get out of the pass and into the lagoon. What followed was an even more hair rising experience to head north to safer grounds. We ended up having to motor for many hours, and it wasn’t one of those “turn the engines and the auto pilot on and relax” kind of trips! We don’t even like motoring in the first place.

No, the event was slightly more exciting. Maybe interesting to the adventurous spirit reading these posts, but less so for the ones being in the midst of them. Mark and I had to drive into the wind and into the waves the whole time with 100% concentration. He had to hand steer (the autopilot could not manage these conditions), while I was vigilantly on the look-out. No time to eat or drink, get sun protection or a rain coat. Before long, the full on storm and weather system was upon us. This is when a cruiser is usually safely holed up somewhere comfortable… We had left too late.

The wind was blowing 30 – 40 knots; the lagoon waves were 6 feet high and close together! During the constant squalls – with even bigger bursts of wind – the rain was driving down and pelting our faces and bodies. Waves were crashing over the bow and into the cockpit, swamping us. I was on deck, fully exposed to the elements (which included enough sun to filter through the clouds and burn my skin and scalp – I lost my bandana overboard early on - during those hours), with little visibility. While Mark focused on the instruments (our luck was having accurate charts of the Tuamotus!), I stared ahead, looking for pearl farm buoys, waiting to foul our propellers. And, this way we continued on, missing reefs and maneuvering around floats, while shivering from being cold and tasting salt water. For six hours! That’s how long it took us to cover those 15 miles. Do the math… I will not repeat here what either of us screamed during this dreadful day. All we wanted upon arrival in Apataki was to have some rest before starting work in the boat yard.

What we learned the hard, Tuamotu way is that from the moment there is any kind of north wind, you motor north, into wind and waves, and, if there is any kind of south wind, you do the opposite. Point is, you always end up motoring head into anything blowing, because that’s where you will find protection. Or, you have to be really good at knowing what the weather men mean with their ambiguous forecasts and plan well ahead! At 4pm, we had enough light to drop the anchor away from the reefs – there might be some coral heads underneath us since we are anchored in 58 feet of water and can’t see the bottom – and had breakfast, lunch and dinner all in one. Then, we went to bed for our first decent night of sleep in ten days! At least we are safe and comfortable – for now! And, it seems to be pretty here as well! 

The Wrong Atoll at the Wrong Time

Mark and I seem to be on a streak of bad luck with the weather these days. During our five day crossing from the Marquesas, we barely had enough wind to get here (the reason: a suddenly popped up weather system not too far away) and now, well… you’ll have to read on.

Arriving in the Tuamotus

The last day of February, the wind slowed us down enough to arrive in Apataki close to slack tide. Once we found the cut into the lagoon, entering the SW pass was easy. The “Current Guestimator” was pretty accurate. The tranquil setting of the pearl farms, the abundance of palm trees, the clearest water we have seen since Bonaire, and a few people greeted us. A supply ship had just left the village dock, where we planned to tie up and stay one or two days to rest up a bit and do some internet and shopping. We lucked out on that part: space at the dock and delivery of fresh, expensive food. Internet? That’s always a problem. So, please, bear with us when the layout or the pictures on the blog are a bit crappy.

Motoring through the SW pass in Apataki

The people of Apataki are extremely friendly and we are greeted everywhere and handed food, fresh produce and fish based on who we meet and where. The ripe bananas we had left were given in return. The initial relief and happiness to be in the Tuamotus was tempered a bit by life at the dock. We have not tied up to anything in years and now we remember why. The cost is not an issue here, since being at the village quay is free, but the dock is filthy, the big black bumpers leave nasty marks on Irie’s hull, the lines and fenders need attention because of the tides, we have zero privacy, there is the threat of rats boarding and the mosquitoes are a pest. The constant noise of the village generator, right next to the boat, makes talking difficult.

Irie at the village quay – it looks pretty enough :-)

The first night we were here, we barely slept because of some of these reasons. The locals hung out next to our cockpit, until 11pm, once in a while interrupting us for conversation. At 5am, fishermen were surrounding us on the dock and were swimming under the boat, banging there flippers and floats onto the hull. Good morning! We really wanted some peace, some beautiful surroundings, and were sick of the dock life already after one day (which was an enjoyable day nevertheless), so we decided to leave for an uninhabited motu on the south side of the lagoon for two days of beauty and relaxation. Bad idea.

The water is like an aquarium, with fish eating the algae we already collected during our last sail

We knew there was wind predicted from the north (usually there are east winds here), which meant no protection (these atolls are big!), but it was only supposed to blow 5 knots and once it would get worse (there would be some crappy weather later on, because of the same system), we would go to the boat yard – the reason for us being in Apataki. That was the plan. Based on our experiences in the ocean, light winds were super light winds and squalls did not have any wind in them. We thought we would be fine. We should have known better.

It was extremely cloudy, but we lucked out with a sunny period, right at around slack tide, which allowed us to leave the dock, enter the lagoon and motor the 7 miles to motu Ruavahine. Surrounded by squalls, we dropped our anchor in 16 feet of amazingly clear water accentuated by the last rays of sun above us, and settled in with our butt towards the beach. It was beautiful here and I couldn’t wait to snorkel on the reefs behind us, an activity we hadn’t done in over seven months! Yes, that’s how long we were in the murky waters of the Marquesas… As soon as we had finished lunch, however, we were in trouble.

Ruavahine surrounded by squalls

First, the wind shifted 180°, coming from the south and putting Irie in 52 feet, towards the depths of the lagoon. Safer than in front of land, but we did not have enough anchor chain out for this change in depth and couldn’t let out more, because once we would turn back, we would hit the reefs with a longer rode. Sitting at the shortest scope ever (an unsettling 2:1, instead of our usual 5:1), we sat tight and held our breath when the first of many squalls needed an hour to pass. Not sure what to do – there are no good options for anchorages in Apataki – and it becoming later and later, we watched the instruments. Slowly, the wind turned back north and the depth decreased. The predicted north wind was back. And… picked up. With a 5 mile fetch, the waves quickly built and Irie started to pitch up and down. Not liking the idea of being on a lee shore (butt towards land) in bad weather, we felt like we could just manage the uncomfortableness. Then, the wind turned to the northwest and the distance of the land in front of us was 20 miles! That is a long way for the waves to grow before they reached us! Did I mention yet that these lagoons are big? A bad scene indeed. 

Not much later, the anchorage became a nightmare. One squall after another passed, with winds of 25 knots in it. Irie wildly jumping up and down, 3 foot waves smashing against the hulls and hitting the bridge deck, everything was tossed around and the place became untenable. But, we were stuck and had to sit it out. Needless to say, we did not sleep a bit last night as well. It had been calmer out on the ocean and the movements of the boat were comparable to sailing upwind in choppy seas. It was a very stressful and dangerous situation and we also figured out they would not be able to haul Irie out of the water in these conditions. It was by far the most uncomfortable anchorage we have been visited in seven years and the most dreadful day and night. Mark would probably agree if I say that it was his most awful birthday ever as well…

So, now we are back at the village quay, with our fishermen friends, the generator as background noise, and the mosquitoes as company. We will wait here until this system passes. It is raining hard and the wind has pinned us down against the dock, so we couldn’t leave even if we wanted to. But, it can always get worse! At least we and the boat are safe and it is flat calm – the boat has not been so stable in many many months. We are alive and comfortable. What more do we need?

There is the SW pass!

Celebrating our arrival in the Tuamotus

Our friend Irwin in the boat basin, with engine trouble

This picture is taken above the water, and – yes – the ray and fish are in the water!

Going for a swim off the village on the day of our arrival

Church of Apataki village

Mark is cleaning the fish, given to us by the fisherman next to him

Sunset over the SW pass in Apataki

Trip Marquesas - Tuamotus: Pictures

Pod of dolphins showing us the way to the Tuamotus

Bye, bye Ua Pou and Marquesas

A winged hitchhiker

And in the morning, the boobie is still there!

One of many squalls

Not such a great way to start the night shift: surrounded by squalls

Pretty bad rainstorm

Day 4: becalmed!

With less than 5 knots of wind, we have to fly the spinnaker at night to keep moving (at 2-3 knots)

Passing our first atoll ever

Last sunrise before arriving at Apataki