Day 127: Tahaa to Bora Bora – 12/05/10

We wake up to a miserable grey day.  There seems little point hanging around in the middle of the sea so we decide to go to the ‘most beautiful island in the world’ (according to the guide books) instead.  The water is crystal clear and a complete lack of wind makes the surface of the water dead calm so we can easily see the anchor and chain lying on the sea bed which makes getting it back up easy for a change (out here anyway).  It is eerily quiet as we gently motor towards the pass in the reef, and there are storm clouds all around us.  It won’t be long until they start to get us!

  Photo:  Dead calm as we head out to the pass in the reef

The sea begins to change as we near the pass as there’s a bit of a rip tide and you can see the disturbance in the water.  Outside the reef the sea is a bit more choppy but still pretty comfortable.  The cockpit cushions are soggy and there’s nowhere dry to sit so after having breakfast I head back to my bed and manage to get a couple of hours’ sleep to make up for the bad night’s sleep last night.

When I reappear, the squalls have caught up with us so now it’s not just grey but wet too - it really would give the coast of Cumbria a run for its money today.  Although it’s not actually as hot, it’s steamy as the rain curtains keep the heat inside the cockpit even though we open up the windscreen every time it deems to actually stop pouring.  At one point it is so dismal that we can hardly see in front of us and Mike has to check the charts and the radar every few minutes as we get closer and closer to the reef which surrounds Bora Bora.  The radar is quite difficult to make out as the heavy rain clouds show up on it as big yellow blobs which look the same as the yellow blogs which indicate land.

Approaching Bora Bora in the pouring rain, it  looks like a big grey rock – nothing like the lush tropical paradise that you see in all the travel brochures.

Photo:  Bora Bora

Luckily as we approach the pass in the reef and have to start looking for the channel markers, the rain stops, and although it stays cloudy the visibility improves enough for us to identify them.  Once through the pass we head south, past the main town of Vaitape and towards Motu Toopua.  The channel is very narrow in places and you can easily make out the nasty looking, boat wrecking coral.  This stuff might be wonderful to snorkel around but is yacht hell when sailing!

Photo:  Red and green markers help you through the reef

We arrive at our chosen anchorage at around 4.30 pm.  In just a few miles, it is the third over-the-water hut type resort that we have seen.  An idea done to death or what?  We anchor and watch a huge digger on the beach rearrange the pristine white sand, unsure whether a new beach is being built or whether it is being moved elsewhere.

Photo:  Beach building?

At 6.20 pm as the sun goes down, the clouds part slightly and we see more sun than we have seen all day.

Photo:  Sun at last!

As everyone was too full to eat the caramelised bananas I was going to make last night, I make them early in the evening.  As we have run out of rum, I add butterscotch liquor instead which seems to go down well.  Another evening is spent in front of the TV eating.  Deserted anchorages may look beautiful but they do curtail the evening’s activities!!

 

Our position is:  16 deg 31 min S, 151 deg 46 min W

Distance so far:  6847 nautical miles

Day 126: Raiatea to Tahaa - 11/05/10

We had been going to do some more snorkelling before we left but it’s not really bright enough to make this worthwhile so after breakfast we get the anchor up and head to Tahaa, the sister island of Raiatea, the smell of garlic, herb and olive bread cooking to accompany our journey.

The two islands are separated by a couple of miles of dodgy navigation; channels, coral, hundreds of floating coconuts and markers showing the airport’s flight path across the water.  At the edge of the reef, surfers lie in wait for the breakers and in the distance we have our first glimpse of Bora Bora.

    Photos:  Surfers, breakers, coral reefs and Bora Bora

Mike calls on the VHF to check that it is OK to cross the flight path but no one bothers to answer, so we cross anyway, hoping that some low flying aircraft doesn’t clip our mast on the way.  Around the Raiatea Yacht Club we can see lots of WARC boats, gathered there for the start of the Tahiti Pearl Regatta tomorrow.  (Mike decided not to bother entering this.)

We arrive around lunchtime at the Tahaa Yacht Club and pick up one of the moorings.  We have been told that this establishment has ‘crazy Tuesday parties’ but I have to say it looks anything but crazy at lunchtime.  Not one person is in the bar, and checking on the internet (which we managed to get free for one of the only times in French Polynesia) it says (although it hasn’t been updated since 2007) that Tuesdays are Polynesian evenings, and that doesn’t exactly sound crazy either.  Added to that, I think that if I eat any more poisson cru, I will begin to smell like raw fish myself.  So we give it a miss.  At least I manage to get three days’ worth of blog published before we pull up the anchor.

Photo:  Carole and John keep watch

We motor round to the east side of Tahaa and go to anchor at a motu that was recommended but are shooed away by one of the locals.  Not knowing quite why he doesn’t want us there, but not wanted to piss anyone off, we move away.  Mike actually finds that it is easier to anchor in what looks like the middle of the sea – it’s just 18 feet deep and crystal clear.

Photo:  A tiny motu is the only bit of land any where near

Mike goes to snorkel over the anchor, and Carole and I go for a relaxing swim with the help of a noodle or two.  Suddenly every man and his canoe seems to be in the same square mile as us.  As Carole points out “as soon as you get your tits out there are more men in canoes than you can shake a stick at”.  And yachts, as a Moorings boat comes very close, gazing in wonder at the two nubile maidens (yes, that’s Carole and I) frolicking in the water.

Mike, now out of the water and dry, offers us a drink and we both agree to a gin and tonic.  You’ve never seen us swim so fast back to the boat to get them.

  Photo:  Sundowners in the sea

Drinks in hand, we float off again although by now, there is a bit of a wind blowing and the tops of the waves keep flying off into our drinks, the only remedy being to drink them faster and turn our backs to the wind.  I do this and then discover that I have been drifting further and further away.  I kick gently and try to swim backwards still clutching my drink (it is a large one and too strong for me to knock back).  Eventually John has to come out and drag me back by the noodle.  It isn’t painful.  Mike thoughtfully ties a rope to Jeannius and throws the other end out, so I finish my drink tethered to the boat.

Photo:  Tied to Jeannius to finish my G n’ T

In the distance we can see storm clouds gathering again and as we watch, a beautiful rainbow develops from the reef.

Photo:  More rain on its way

As we sit in the salon later in the evening, heavy squalls dump shedloads of water onto us.  This is the most rain that we have had since leaving St Lucia.  Thank goodness we weren’t out enjoying that crazy Tuesday evening at the yacht club - we would have been drowned in the dinghy.

 

Our position is:  16 deg 38 min S, 151 deg 25 min W

Distance so far:  6815 nautical miles

Day 125: Raiatea – 10/05/10

We decide to go snorkelling today so to build us up (like we need it?) Carole makes a hearty breakfast.  Scrambled eggs, bacon and haggis.  Yes, that’s right – haggis!  Carole (a good Yorkshire lass who live in Scotland) has brought a tin of it with her and as Mike and I are haggis virgins, we are told we have to try it.

While she cooks, I put on a load of washing.  Mike and John get the first serving as obviously both us girls are busy!

Photo:  Mike tucks into a hearty breakfast

By the time mine is ready, Mike has finished his and pronounced this particular brand of tinned haggis as extremely delicious.  I eye it somewhat suspiciously but I’m game.

Photo:  Haggis, and not a sheep’s stomach in sight

I have to say I agree.  It’s lovely.

By the time the second load of washing is out to dry it’s almost 12.30 pm so we get into our snorkel gear and are about the leave when a motor boat speeds over to the island, and the hounds of the Baskervilles (the pack of dogs on the island) go berserk.  This time, however, their tails are wagging and Carole correctly surmises that the owners, or workers, are arriving.  We wait to see if the arrivals are eaten or licked (they are licked excitedly) then figure that it’s safe to get in the dinghy and go round to the other side of the motu.

Photo:  The water’s clarity makes seeing the bottom easy

Photos:  Proof that I go snorkelling

I am the first one over the side of the dinghy.  The water is clear and warm and I immediately swim off to the nearest head of coral.  The coral formations are actually more impressive than the fish, which, although lovely and with amazingly bright colours, are no more impressive than those I have seen elsewhere.  The brain coral is the largest I have ever seen.  In fact, it looks like it has been manufactured out of concrete and stuck there for the tourists.

We swim around for some time, searching for nice shells (we only find mangy ones – all the good ones are for sale in the shops!).  What I had forgotten, though, is that getting out of the dinghy into the sea is easy;  getting out of the sea and into the dinghy, however, is something else!   Mike has thoughtfully put down the rope ladder, but when I try to use it my legs just go straight under the dinghy.  He tries to pull me over the side but I am laughing so hysterically he gives up.  In the end I settle for standing on the propeller of the outboard motor and throwing myself over the top, landing in a twisted but still giggling heap.  By the time we get back to Jeannius half the afternoon has gone and the crew panic because they’ve missed lunch.  A quickly thrown together meal of cold meats, cheese, crisps and olives soon quieten them down though, then it’s off for an afternoon kip!

By the time I wake up, it’s dark and John is preparing dinner (I really will be the size of a house!).  We have confit of duck, red cabbage with ginger and mashed potato, then sit and watch some comedy TV before collapsing back into bed.  It really is all go!!!

Day 124: Huahine to Raiatea – 09/05/10

We leave around 9.30 am for our trip to Raiatea, just over 15 miles in the distance.  Mike goose wings out the two genoas as what little wind there is, is right behind us.

It’s slow going.  We have the occasional burst of wind but mostly it’s so gentle that we go very slowly indeed.  I cook lemon and garlic chicken Caesar salad for lunch and we all spend the day lazing around the cockpit.

We arrive at the pass into the lagoon around the island at about 2.30 pm and immediately have to make way for a huge ferry coming out of the same channel.

Photo:  Me on lookout duty

Photo:  Waves breaking onto the reef at the channel entrance

Photo:  Getting a photo of the boat coming the other way

Photo:  Yep – that one!

Photo:  Children playing on the channel markers

Once through the channel we turn left and motor down the east coast of the island, passing motus (tiny islands) on the way, where the coral reef pokes up enough for vegetation to form and a couple of what appear to be pearl farms.

   Photo:  Carole and John grabbing some shade and breeze

Photos:  Lush vegetation on Raiatea – you realise why when you see the rain clouds

Photo:  Pearl farm inside the reef

I disappear off for a quick lie down and am woken a couple of hours later to be told that the crew want cake, so I get up and put a ginger cake into the bread maker.

We eventually get to our chosen anchorage, a motu named Noa Noa.  The anchor goes down in what looks like sand, and while I sit and admire the view, John snorkels over the anchor to make sure that it really has set.  The motu appears deserted except for a pack of dogs although people obviously work or live here as there is a ‘Private – keep out’ notice, a French flag flying on the beach and a couple of buildings which are just visible through the palm trees.  We watch as the crew of another boat ignore the warnings and swim ashore.  Suddenly all hell is let loose as the dogs notice them and as a pack, charge down the beach snarling and barking – not a wagging tail among them.  The couple beat a hasty retreat back into the water.

Photo:  Admiring the view

As the sun sets, the sky turns a beautiful pale pink tinged with mauve, and the smell of the ginger cake emanating from the galley is wonderful. 

Photos:  Noa Noa at sunset

When it is ready, the reality is not quite as good.  The old baking powder obviously wasn’t working (given the number of ‘bricks’ we produced), so we bought a new packet.  This stuff works so well that the cake rises beyond all expectations, and when Mike attempts to tip it out of the tin, it completely falls apart.  Realising that it will dry out really quickly in this state and become inedible, the crew fall upon it like vultures.  In pieces and unsightly it may be, but it still tastes good.  In the end we have eaten so much that no one feels like having dinner.

Photo:  The remains of the ginger cake – 7 pm

By the time we all go to bed, it has all mysteriously disappeared.  I’m definitely going on rabbit food when Carole and John have gone!!

 

Our position is:  16 deg 54 min S, 151 deg 25 min W

Distance so far:  6791 nautical miles

Day 123: Huahine – 08/05/10

I’m out of bed even before I have had my second cup of tea because we are going exploring today.  After a quick breakfast, we are, in time honoured fashion, just a few minutes later than Mike had planned – probably my fault as usual.

Carole and I do a bit more food shopping while John and Mike go and sort out the car.  We spot a fresh vegetable stall opposite the supermarket, and rather than run the gauntlet of the flies in that particular section of the aforementioned shop, we choose a couple of lettuces and a bunch of green beans.  Unfortunately the lady who owns the stall has disappeared off to the toilet (while we are busy choosing the best lettuce) leaving us in the hands of her dear friend, who, although very good at smiling, doesn’t seem able to serve.  Ten minutes later, the stall owner re-appears (hopefully with nice clean hands) and relieves us (excuse the pun) of 820cpf (just over £6).

By the time we have finished the supermarket run, the boys have returned with a nice little car.  Mike takes the shopping back to the boat while Carole and John wander through town and I stay by the car at the dock, watching the kids playing some kind of three a side football game.  Today is apparently a day of festival, a commemoration of something historical we couldn’t work out, that involves an island half marathon (cycling and running), kids playing everywhere, strange Polynesian rap music (mixed even more strangely with French versions of old songs like “Itsy, Bitsy, Teeny, Weeny, Yellow, Poker-dot Bikini”), lots of communal eating and everything else being closed, as we find out later driving around the island.  However, at this point we fail to understand the significance of ‘closed for festivities’.

We drive to the north of the island, past the airport (quite an impressive little building for such a small island) and along the strip of land between the sea and the large lake.  Suddenly the vegetation on the side bordering the sea opens up and a beautiful deserted beach appears, with storm clouds in the distance.

Photo:  Beautiful beach with storm clouds gathering on the horizon

Photo:  Obvious excitement from me at finding a deserted beach!

Photo:  Blue skies in the other direction though

The beach is an absolute treasure trove of coral and shells.  We pick up a couple of nice pieces and take our booty back to the car.

A little further on we find one of the Marae sites.  This one is unfortunately devoid of any information so we have no idea whether this is the full thing, or the only remaining part of a larger one.

Photos:  Marae

Further down the road we stop at a bridge over a river.  Here, stone fish traps have been built, as well as little huts over the river where fisherman wait to spear the fish as they swim past.

Photos:  Fishing village with traps and spearing hidey holes

The heavens suddenly open and it absolutely throws it down.  I am naturally first to the car, belting along as if I might melt (as if the heat isn’t causing that to happen to me already), while the other three wander along getting soaked.

Our next stop is an extensive marae that spreads on both sides of the road and down to the sea. 

Photos:  Marae at Maeva on Huahine’s north coast

Photo:  Museum (shut) at marae site

Walking back along the road to the car, hundreds of land crabs scuttle to their holes as we approach.  One unfortunately, leaves it too late and is caught out in the open, and freezes as we near him, not sure which way to run.  Mike bends down and aims a finger at him.  The plucky little fellow raises himself up on his hind legs and waves a claw at Mike, looking as fierce as he can manage.

Photo:  A very pissed off land crab – look at that expression!

Having had our laugh, we stand back and watch him try to push himself into the nearest hole, which unfortunately isn’t big enough for him to get into.  No doubt when we leave, he finds his proper home.

We come to the Belvedere view point at the top of Huahine Nui.  I decide to climb up on the log rail to get a better picture which is probably not a good idea, but I do it anyway.  Wobbling precariously (not helped by John whacking the pole – that’s another life lost) I get the shot.  The view over to Huahine Iti is spectacular. 

Photo:  Looking from Huahine Nui to Huahine Iti

  Photo:  Baie de Maroe, between the two islands of Hauhine

By now we are starting to feel somewhat peckish, and driving around, begin to understand the consequences of everything being closed for festivities.  Even the bloody restaurants are closed.  We can’t even find a supermarket now to buy some bread and ham.  Every village we pass through has a communal eating area, full to the brim with locals all stuffing their faces.  We start to wonder whether we can gate crash but they definitely have the air of “bring your own dish” and if we turn up empty handed – well, remember, the Polynesians used to be cannibals!

Photos:  Views over the coral reef surrounding the island

Eventually we arrive at the village of Parea.  The bay here is where some of the other WARC boats have been anchored.  We park the car and walk over to the beach, where, hoo-bloody-ray, there is a restaurant and it’s open.  We sit quickly before they can say they are closing and order lunch.  We all end up with sea food of one type or another.  Sitting at our table on the beach, we can see Tucanon anchored in the bay.

We drive back towards Fare and I remember that there was a particular view we passed when it was raining that I would like to photograph now that the sun is out, so we drive back towards Maeva.  Stage right, enter Elga. 

Elga is a large, waddling, sarong wearing, toothless crone, with enough hair sprouting from the many warty moles on her face to make a wig.  (It’s easier to see why Gauguin was attracted to 14 year olds when living in French Polynesia when you see some of the alternatives!)  She steps out into the road in front of our car, waving her arms and gabbling in unintelligible French.  Mike stops the car to see what the problem is, and Elga flings open the back door, suddenly knowing enough English to say “push up” and makes it very obvious that she is going to climb into the back seat regardless of whether Carole and I move.  Realising that I am about to be sat on, I move over quickly and Elga heaves her not insubstantial bottom into the car.  Breathing out enough cigarette fumes for us to be concerned about passive smoking, and pulling up the hem of her sarong to wipe the sweat from her brow, she tells us she wants to be taken to Faaie, a town some miles on.  I explain that we are only going half that distance, but she is adamant.  So am I.  In the end, the only way we can get her out of the car is stopping a few miles ahead and telling her that this is where we are going sight seeing.  She finally accepts this, and the last we see of her is her stepping into the road to stop each passing car.  We watch from a distance noticing that we were the only silly blighters who actually stopped.  Even the police car carries on its way.  She must be known in the area!

We reward ourselves on the way back by buying ice creams in the only supermarket we have found open on the island.  Back in Fare, the half marathon runners are arriving back at the finish line and the band is in full swing.  We return the car to Avis and dinghy back to Jeannius.

Carole and John cook us a Mexican dish and not much later, we retire to our respective cabins.