Since this morning we’ve been suffering from perfection.
We’re gliding along easily at 4 to 5 knots, light wind on the
port beam, seas a flat and comfortable 1-2 feet. All sails are up with virtually
no heel and we’re holding a steady course for Tahiti. Blue skies with puffy
white clouds, shorts and tee shirts weather, but not sweating either. We have
all the cockpit awnings rolled up and everything is dry.
Not much of a post so far, but this is day 6 of our passage from
Taiohae Bay in the Marquesas Islands. We will probably reach Papeete, Tahiti on
Monday morning. Today is Saturday. We expected the whole trip to take 6 days but
once again the wind has been out to lunch.
We’ve had days when there hasn’t even been enough to fill the sails and they make
an awful racket. The boat rocks gently on the waves as we burn up the ocean at
2 knots, and each time the boat rocks the sails slap as they fill from alternating sides.
That’s usually the time when I alter our heading just enough to keep the sails
working better. Sometimes it takes us 30 degrees off course, but we can usually make
it up later if we’re still early into the passage.
We left Taiohae Bay at 4:30 pm last Sunday and motored a few
miles down the coast to Daniels Bay. I’d heard it was pretty spectacular and
was keen to at least get a glimpse of it before dark. The entry was quite
disconcerting because you appear to be heading straight for the towering
volcanic shoreline with the surf crashing up against it, but we eased into the
bay and found it was indeed spectacular. At moments like this you can’t help
but wonder what would happen if the engine failed. It’s way too deep to set an
anchor before hitting the cliffs, so the only option would be to get some sail
up and use it to veer off to the inner bay itself.
It had an eerie feel about it that was enhanced by the lack of sunlight reaching
into the crevices of the 1000 ft high cliffs, but further in we could see a small
beach where the forest meets the shore. I’d expected a village and maybe a dock,
possibly some local fishermen, but there was nothing. In the season there would
be a few yachts there, no doubt, because you can hike inland for a couple of hours
and see the second highest waterfall in the world.
Next time.
We powered out and had the sails up just as it got dark. Seas were big and
uncomfortable because they roll in for thousands of miles across the Pacific Ocean
and bounce off the massive rocky cliffs, creating disturbed water for miles around.
Initially we had good wind, but as the days progressed it died away. We’ve had more
rain on this passage than before too, which still isn’t much.
The main challenge for this passage is picking our way through
the Tuamotu Archipelago. It’s a long strip of coral atolls stretching for
hundreds of miles, right across where we need to go. They’re also known as the
Dangerous Islands because they’re only a few feet above sea level and the
highest point is usually the tallest palm tree, maybe 60 ft. They can be big
too if you include the surrounding reefs of the lagoons, maybe 40-50 miles
across. But you only see the bit above sea level with palm trees on.
Fortunately with GPS we know accurately where we are, but many of
the charts were surveyed centuries ago so the atolls sometimes aren’t so sure
where they are!
After picking our route to pass west of Ahe and then go for a 20
mile gap between Rangiroa and Aratua, we decided to be over cautious and timed
our transit so we’d go through in daylight. It also meant we’d get to see some
of the atolls.
As it happened the wind died completely on Friday evening so we
fired up the engine and at 800 revs we were doing 4.1 knots, a perfect speed to
take us through the islands at around 8am.
It all went exactly to plan so doesn’t make for a very interesting story.
In fact we could have easily done the transit at night because the radar showed us
exactly where the atolls were. I’m just not sure that radar would alert us to the reefs
just under the water, but the route we’d chosen had exposed reefs so it all went well.
A few of the atolls are big enough to have a landing field and they now get a small
amount of tourism, but most of the atolls are too small to support much of a population.
Many have just 40 or 50 people living in a village on fish and coconuts, sometimes a bit
of other fruit too. No rivers or springs so all water is from rainfall, and precious.
They make copra from the coconuts and a small trading vessel will call in to pick it up
and drop off some supplies periodically.
I really wish we had more time to explore a few of them.
And the dead poppy seed?
Sandy made some great bread this morning and after I woke up from
my off watch/post island transition catch up sleep, I went down to make a cup of
coffee and a sandwich. There were 2 loaves there and she adds all kinds of seeds
to the recipe. One of these was a sweet loaf with cinnamon that she wanted me to
try. While I was buttering it I noticed one of the poppy seeds on the other loaf
migrating across the top of it, at a fair pace too. I literally blinked a few
times but it was still moving so I tried to nail it with the knife. The cheeky
thing leapt clear of the loaf onto the bench top and I got it on the third try.
They’re quick but not very bright, these pesky little fruit flies.
If he’d just sat still his camouflage was perfect.
We’re winning the war, one at a time, but I do wonder how many
sluggish ones we’ve eaten.
Until next time...