Mike and I are both awake early but there’s not much point getting up as we have to wait for the diver. In the night there was quite a lot of wind and rain, the only consolation being that we didn’t have to worry about our anchor dragging! As they say, every cloud has a silver lining!
I am talking to my brother-in-law, Terry, on Skype, sitting in the cockpit, when I notice a dive boat in the distance, although it is earlier than the time he promised, but when I can see it is making a bee line straight towards us I call Mike. Sure enough, it is Marc from Blue Nui Dive. He has just finished his second dive of the day and is now here to save the day.
Photo: Our rescuer, Marc, arrives
He ties his boat to Jeannius (obviously not wanting to put an anchor down here – sensible man) – puts his dive gear on and goes to investigate. Mike goes to wait at the helm ready to gently motor Jeannius forward to take the strain off the anchor chain so Marc can lift it and I go to the bow, big toe ready for action with the windlass button. After a few minutes, Marc comes back up, beckons Mike forward and tells me to start pulling the chain up then disappears back down again.
We keep going slowly forward, the chain keeps coming …… and coming …… and eventually I see the anchor appear but with our hurricane line looped around it. Marc has detached it but a loop has formed with the slack and I need to get it off so that I can pull the anchor right back into its rest. I dash to the stern and get the boat hook and poke if off. Marc is waiting out to the port side of the boat with the other end, keeping it out of the way of the propeller and I pull it in. We are free! With the extra person and that person not being attached to the boat by a long piece of breathing tube, the whole thing took less than fifteen minutes, and poor Mike struggled for nearly six hours yesterday.
Marc goes off to his base at the Manihi Pearl Beach Resort and we follow. We have to anchor somewhere for a few hours and are not about to risk putting the anchor down here again. Marc said it is sand and rock rather than coral heads over by the hotel so it seems a sensible place to go. It is one of the typical luxury hotels here. Little cottages built on stilts facing the open ocean, accessed by decked paths. Beautiful.
Photo: View of part of the resort from Jeannius
We put the anchor down, not without a level of trepidation, wait for half an hour or so to make sure that it settles properly, then get in the dinghy to see Marc and have a look around. The resort is picture postcard beautiful – thatched cottages, white sandy pathways, infinity pool, palm trees, lush vegetation – and it all comes at a price – 300 euros a night for the cheapest room in low season without meals. Still beautiful though, made all the more beautiful by having Jeannius is all the photos! Biased or what?
Photos: Jeannius adding to the beautiful views
Photo: Posing? Moi?
Marc arrives and we thank him profusely for his help. We stand and chat for a while, picking his brains about local islands and more specifically, pearl farms and pearls themselves. As he used to manage a pearl farm and his girlfriend is a pearl grafter, he gives us lots of information. Apparently nearly all the pearls farms in Manihi have now gone out of business (I thought they all looked abandoned when we arrived) although there are still some in Fakarava (phew) but he says that the best place to get the champagne pearls that I want is in Australia where they specialise in them. Mike’s wallet might have a reprieve then!
Marc is extremely knowledgeable about diving and gives us all the places to go in Fakarava, but warns us about the sharks there as people keep feeding them when they are in the water. Apparently three people were bitten yesterday. Three! In one day! There’s no way I am going in the water. If you need a diver here, Marc’s your man – what he doesn’t know about diving (and pearls) isn’t worth knowing! He can be contacted on 96 42 17.
Photo: The lovely Marc and I
We say our goodbyes and go back to Jeannius. My heart is in my mouth when we get the anchor up but all is OK. We make our way towards the pass out of the lagoon and can see, even from a distance, that the out flowing tide is quite fearsome.
Photo: The sea churns through the pass as the tide runs out
It’s actually quite scary going through the pass but I have the presence of mind to film it. Apart from a small area just inside the lagoon which is only 20 feet deep, the rest is over 50 feet but the churning of the water is quite incredible and you can feel the pull of the 5 knot current as it drags us out and from side to side, the stern of the boat slewing like a mini slalom. I am relieved when we get through even though we have loads of clearance below and to either side.
We put the main sail up but have the two reefs in, and the full genoa. There’s quite a bit of breeze, and not actually in quite the right direction so we will have to change course half way there. I go for a sleep in the afternoon, but of course, don’t manage to drop off and eventually come up and Mike goes down instead. I am sitting in the cockpit watching the sun go down when I notice that the wind is steadily dropping, but looking at the instruments, I can see that we have the same wind as before but our speed has slowed dramatically. I look at the course indicator and realise that Samantha is pre-menstrual and therefore away with the fairies again – she has put herself into standby rather than steering to the wind. Although I know how to correct this, I had failed to notice what course we were actually steering and run to get Mike. By the time he comes up the boat has changed direction (the sun now going down on the other side of the boat – bit of a giveaway, that) and Mike has to put the engines on to push the boat back onto the right course. Bloody Samantha!
The sea is extremely uncomfortable and we are going almost directly into the wind – going to St Martin conditions again. The waves hit the boat at the most uncomfortable angle and make the most amazingly horrible, load noise, like a series of mini explosions. It really does sound like she is going to break apart at times. Yuk. There are frequent squalls that bring heavy downpours, but as quickly as the salt is washed off the boat (and believe me there’s a lot) the next waves put it all back on again.
Mike goes back to bed for another couple of hours and I stand watch, glaring at the autopilot, although at least I know our course now. When Mike comes back up we have some supper then he takes the first watch and I go down to sleep. Sleep? Fat chance!
Our position is: 15 deg 17 min S, 145 deg 45 min W
Distance so far: 6318 nautical miles
No comments:
Post a Comment