Log of Tamatea

Two Weeks Bareboating in Tahiti

Well, if I don't start now it will be too late. One year ago I resolved to keep a log on the run up to this trip to Tahiti as well as the events on the trip. So, It's the second day already. We'll need a few flashbacks.

Today's the 5th of May. We're tied up to the quay at Utuaroa on the Island of Riatea in French Polynesia. The sky is mostly overcast and the temperature is about 74 degrees. There's a 10 knot breeze and it doesn't get much better.

There are several other sailboats tied up in front of us and behind us. I'm alone on the boat and Jana, Chris and Vicki are in town getting supplies. The quay is lined with coconut palms and a road runs along the key. Tu Moana, a small inter-island cruise ship is tied up about 50 yard from us on its own pier. Other boats are coming in looking for a place to park, but it's getting pretty tight.

The plan is, after getting supplies, to cruise about three hours north to the east side of Tahaa to snorkel and spend the evening at anchor so we can get an early start for Bora Bora.

Last evening, after checking in to Tahiti Yacht Charter we moored off Taravana Yacht club after arriving at the last possible minute before dark. Fortunately we found a buoy, although I think it was private. Anyway, we found a more suitable buoy in the morning. During the night it was very quiet except for a humungous thunder storm that entertained us with lots of lightning nearby and generally dispelled the funk I was feeling after 24 ours without any TV violence. A little adrenaline is better than none.

Well now that I've broken the ice and gotten started on this I can put it aside and go figure out how to use the GPS. I'm hoping that with a little study of the manual and the help of the GPS satellites plus my two hands I'll be able to find my ass. Don't count on it, though.

Sunday Morning…

Plan to sail to Bora Bora this morning.

It's about 6:00. The water is dead calm; no sound not even snoring. I'm sitting at the outside table facing aft. Through the laundry clothes-pinned to the back lifeline is a motu with dozens of over-the-water bungalows. High dollar stuff, something like $900 per night--ouch!

The southern cross has set below the clouds on the western horizon, but the two pointer stars are still in sight but diving toward the cross. No other stars are visible.

As always, everywhere in the world one can hear roosters declaring their mastery of the universe in the distance. A few red and green beacon lights show in the distance.

We made a second trip to the store in Utuaroa yesterday for additional supplies since Sunday is shut down.

We're alone in the anchorage area with the exception of a couple of Sunsail unimaran trash. We try to be tolerant but, I mean really--unimarans!!

There's a light breeze, about 4 knots. The surf on the outer reef is just a distant murmur. High tide must have been in the middle of the night since there is a modest current and a lot of debris is floating by.

Vicki seems to be doing great with her back injury and doesn't seem slowed down at all.

This boat, a Lagoon 38 is very comfortable. The bunks are large and the mattresses seem to be that memory foam sort of material.

I hope Bora Bora is not as built up as we've been hearing. To hear others tell it it is wall to wall hotels, water shuttles, etc. People pay about $1200 a night to stay there which really awes me since this luxurious catamaran is only about $1500 per week for each of two couples.

The sky is lightening now. I hope someone will emerge from below to start the coffee.

Ahhh… Chris just came up and started the coffee. Both heads are being pumped and conversation is starting. Water pumps are buzzing and voila the day has really started and the quiet dawn is gone.

Last night we all got toasted and had a great time doing I don't know what. This is not good. Someone must record the incisive pronouncements and insights of these conclaves. Tonight I will be the designated historian.

Sunday, Bora Bora 5:30 PM

Being the designated historian is a real bitch. I just turned down my first gin & tonic. Never mind that it was warm. Here I am historiating and every one else is making history. We're anchored behind the motu just south of the pass at Bora Bora. The substantial heat of midday has passed and the air is cool and the sun is hidden behind clouds on the horizon.

Jana and Vicki are in the galley making garbage. Chris is in the net reading. Four tonic glasses are staring me in the face as I write this. They are lined up over the sink on the passthrough from the galley to the outside cockpit. I cannot take my eyes off of them. Chris just called back from the net insincerely: "Can I help with anything" and was thus snared into opening a bottle of wine--more fluid fun proscribed for designated historian.

The western horizon is beginning to get showy in preparation for the dunking of the sun into the Tahitian Pacific Ocean.

Now, we've just had a 15 minute conversation on how much water to put with the rice using measurement in grams of rice and milliliters of water.

I got sucked into the conversation and drew on my vast knowledge of cooking and metric measurement to help these poor garbage makers to make the necessary decisions. Now the conversation has turned to a discussion of how next time we'll make room in the luggage for a rice cooker as well as a salad shooter. It is universally agreed among the cooks that the best way to do this is to have me leave my Speedos behind-- or was it leave my behind behind?-- aw, shit, I'll be the designated his historian tomorrow.

Well, the cooks just discovered a bag of ice in the refrigerator. What a surprise!

Now it's Thursday and we're at the southwestern corner of Bora Bora Lagoon. South of us about 600 yards away is a little hotel with about 30 fares overwhelming the little motu that marks the bottom of Bora Bora atoll. The high central mountain of Bora Bora is to the north, its peak disappearing into the clouds. On three other sides there are jungly islands with hotels and houses lining the beach. To the west it is open for a couple of miles to the western atolls.

We're anchored in a shallow, coralhead studded area mostly deep enough to be safe but with one nasty coral head lurking behind us waiting for the anchor to drag so it can pounce on us and munch up our rudders and keel.

There's not too much chance of our dragging, however since even after 5 days (or is it 6) there has really been hardly a breath of wind. With the exception of a few hours on our passage here we have motored exclusively. When there is no cloud cover it is very hot out of the shade. The air temperature is about 88 to 90 degrees. The water is about 82 degrees. When we get hot we either jump overboard for a while or dump a bucket of seawater over our head.

Evenings, nights and mornings are beautifully cool and the glassy lagoon is surreal in its beauty.

Yesterday we had planned to spend the night near Bloody Mary's so we could rent a car to sightsee with today. After due consideration over lunch at Bloody Mary's we decided instead to spend the rental money on gin. We stopped by the general store to score the gin (at a stylish $60 a fifth), some ahi,

fruit and other goodies and headed back down here. The trip back here was marred only by a collision with a coral head. (My fault for traveling with poor visibility.) We didn't sink and didn't do too much damage to the keel so we anchored for the night and did things with the gin that made it worth $60 per bottle. We did find, however, that we were anchored on the freeway between the motus where the Four Seasons is constructing about 400 over the water fares. With those that are already built around the motus, I estimate there will be roughly one point two zillion units on Bora Bora and her motus. If they are ever all filled at the same time the entire Bora Bora lagoon will resemble po'paa soup. Po'paa is Tahitian for Gringo.

Along with the construction comes noise. There is the constant back and forth of motor boats moving workers to the construction sites and back; a rock crusher is hard at work on a nearby hilltop noise-polluting the area around it for a good mile in every direction.

With all that said, this place is very wonderful still, yet I will never come back here to Bora Bora. There have to be other places in this vast ocean that have escaped the pollution of greed and the infection of people with too much money. There should be a law that only we yachties be permitted here and the rest of the world should remain at home building boats and sails and stuff that we need to pursue our lifestyle. It wouldn't hurt if more people worked on bringing the price of gin down, either.

The noise and traffic goes down after about 10pm. The sky is an ode to every cliché about star-spangle, brilliant, diamond-studded, gorgeosity. The Southern Cross wheels proudly across the firmament embedded in the milky way. In the north the big dipper lies out upside down clearly pointing out where the North Star is playing hide and seek. Venus is the evening star and in the very early morning Jupiter is at the zenith drawing all eyes to Scorpio nearby. Haven't yet been able to find Uranus (you make the joke, I'm tired of doing all the work) or Mars and don't know if they're in the night sky now, but plan to keep looking.

We have been eating very well. Not what you'd expect, though. Instead of fresh-baked baguettes every day, we get baguettes at the market that taste like they were produced in the Wonder Bread factory in Katmandu, and then shipped to us in a caravan of swimming camels. The butter is great, though. It's from New Zealand. The produce is from Chile, New Zealand and California. The fish is mostly local and it is outstanding. Jana and Vicki have whipped up meal after mouth watering meal while on board. Healthy stuff, too. Still, I can't help noticing, speaking as one of the two dishwashers on board that good healthy meals require a minimum of 14 pots, 8 dishes, assorted spoons and stuff all of which needs to be washed in a one foot by one foot sink using nothing but two tablespoons of fresh water.

Friday, still in paradise. Another hot day creeping over the western horizon. Glassy water with only a hint of wind.

Over coffee we tallied up the grocery/liquor bill to see how the first week went. Not too bad, about $1500 US including the restaurant meals. The arithmetic has helped us to relate Tahitian money to US money in understandable format.

For instance: Renting a four passenger air conditioned car on Bora Bora is 4 bottles of gin. A lunch at Bloody Mary's is two bottles of gin. A kilo of potatoes is a Corona. A kilo of fresh ahi is a Hinano and a stiff gin and tonic.

Since we've been motoring I'm estimating our fuel bill will be about two bottles of gin and a merlot.

Today we will leave for the west side of the island to have dinner at Bloody Mary's and then be ready to take off early for Raiatea. Sure, a night at Bloody Mary's and we'll be lucky to find our dinghy for the 100 yard ride to the boat. Anyway, looks like we'll be motoring all the way to Raiatea. We'll provision there and get ready to sail to Huahine on Sunday. Everything is closed on Sunday so we'll continue from the north pass on Huahine to the bay at the south of the island.

I for one will be saying goodbye to Bora Bora forever. As wonderful as it is even after the obscene development over the last 10 years, it is clear that it will get much worse before it gets better.

I wish I could adjust my memories to take me back to Bora Bora of 35 years ago when I was cruising the South Pacific on a 34' Jim Brown Searunner Tri, but we know how that goes…"You can't blow home again."

There are still many undeveloped islands in the South Pacific that can bring to mind the more basic world of the Polynesian South Pacific. It just takes a little more effort to reach them. The rewards for the more adventurous traveler can be exceptionally rewarding. It is clear that any easy access to natural beauty is destined to be sliced, diced and pureed by our form of capitalism that places human values a poor runner up to 'bottom line'. Too bad, but it's the truth.

I think future generations may dub this era the 'Halliburton' era. Our entire society worshiping at the alter of wealth in the form of oil, cheap labor, easy bucks, political correctness and George Bush the Decider.

Saturday and we're underway for Raiatea. Wind is from about 115 degrees, (Trade Winds) and that's our desired course so we'll be tacking to make the pass at Raiatea. Sailed out of the pass at Bora Bora about 8:30 so expect we'll be in the pass at Raiatea about 3:00 to 4:00 if the wind holds steady at 13 knots.

Dropped $250 at Bloody Mary's last night. They have an awesome choice of fresh fish. They cook it adequately and the service is OK and cheerful.

With that said there are some real problems I have with them. The prices, of course and they served a glass of wine that was unacceptable and did not remove it from the bill as any other top restaurant would do. The music, which they play a bit too loud, is an eclectic mix of Tahitian traditional, gangsta rap, and a half dozen other genres. The music sequence is cleverly designed to play at least one cut you like no matter what your preference is every 10 or so cuts. Of course that means that you will cleverly be required to listen to 8 or 9 cuts that you hate to hear the one you like.

For a "yacht club" that supposedly caters to cruisers and charterers they are virtually clueless as to what we enjoy. For example we took advantage of the free mooring for the night. They turn on their outside speakers to blast their misbegotten music out over the anchorage until about 2 am.

Now that we're clear of the island I'll try to summarize my feelings about this visit. Thirty five years ago when I was cruising in these waters and spent over two months anchored in the lagoon of Bora Bora the atoll was paradise. There was one small hotel and a Club Med outpost resort allied to the main one on Moorea. There were a couple of small restaurants and a small yacht club where cruisers could get water and swap books and stories.

By contrast the Island is now more like Coney Island. The same beauty is there, the same sweet people are there, but alas, the central mountain which symbolized the majesty of Polynesia has been replace by an overshadowing monolith of greed. Every motu now has its hotel with dozens of over-the-water fares. If you approach any of the motus you must first get permission from the owner and motoring up to a likely little beach in the dinghy you will probably see a sign saying: "Private Property. Keep out" (tapu)

There are currently hundreds more over the water complexes under construction and the entire west side of the reef is being developed. Formerly it was a long string of little motus with no one on them that were there for anyone to enjoy.

I would estimate that the Four Seasons alone is building over 400 units. If all of the units in place and under construction are ever filled the little airport will be overwhelmed with flights and the pall of garbage burning smoke that now is an occasional annoyance will periodically drift over these units to disgust their high paying guests.

Of course with all of the over-construction the lagoon is alive with boats shuttling workers to and from the construction sites. The buzz of their engines are only quiet during the wee small hours of the morning when everything is still when with a good imagination one can think about how it once was.

I wholeheartedly hope that most of these developments fail miserably and that the companies which inflicted them take it in the shorts.

In retrospect Bora Bora to me is like that special girl friend from teenage days who is beautiful, sweet and unspoiled. You know, the one you take to the prom and think is the most wonderful creature on God's earth.

Years later you wonder what ever happened to her and in your heart you still think she is there in that pristine state, still the ultimate goal of your adolescent dreams.

That's the Bora Bora I remember from 35 years ago. Now she's still beautiful but is a bit blowsy with way too much makeup and is not nearly attractive now with her heels in the air and a line of greedy clients waiting for turn at her.

Well, that's enough of an unpleasant thought. I still enjoyed the old girl even if she's fallen from my pedestal.

I should mention an incident from a couple of days ago. Jana and Vicki we're doing some grocery shopping. In some way that is not entirely clear to me Vicki tripped on an inner tube on the floor of the store (OK, don't ask me how or why it was there or why Vicki tripped) Now, falling on her back is not an activity that thrills Vicki as she's dealing with a ruptured disk as it is. Jana who was strategically placed to "catch" Vicki started the preventative move that would break Vicki's fall--that is ease her to the ground. Vicki with catlike reflexes managed to fall backward onto the inner tube that tripped her thus breaking her fall and keeping her from further injury. Now both ladies are sprawled on the floor surrounded by Tahitians and Po'Paa. I'm sure that in a moment or so both would have sprung up to do a curtsey and solicit donations from the crowd for their entertainment, but at that moment Chris arrived on the scene. He looked over his two shopping companions reclining on the concrete floor. He was quiet for a moment or two distracted as he was from picking out postcards and asked in a genuinely curious tone: "What are you doing?" Neither of the acrobats had an answer.

4:30 and we're again anchored on the east side of Tahaa so we can get an early start for Huahine. Our 'very special' anchorage is polluted with about 10 other boats.

We just made it under the wire to Uturoa and were the last to receive fuel before everyone went home for the weekend. Since no one works on Sunday the timing was perfect. The ladies are now working up some very special tacos with fresh ahi as the main ingredient. After that I'm sure that gin will appear and the real life of charterers will begin.

Chris just got commandeered into doing cocktails. I need to keep at this writing until all the chores are done.

Huahine

Sunday, Avea Bay on Huahine

Got underway from Tahaa this morning about 9:00. Moderate wind had us motor-sailing for Huahine. We covered the 27 miles in 3.5 hours and were in Avea Bay by 3:00 pm.

We marveled at how unspoiled Huahine seemed after the time we spent on Bora Bora. On the way to Avea Bay we passed the one hotel over the water with about a dozen units. It looked very luxurious and well laid out. If I were of a mind to spend upwards of $1500 a day for a room this would probably be it. Of course that would never happen.

There's not much wind so it's pretty hot and we are all waiting for the 4pm cocktail hour at the Tamatea saloon.

It's Wednesday morning early. We're still anchored a mile south of Fare on Huahine. It's a great spot about a quarter mile away from the island and a quarter mile from the reef. The anchorage is moderately secure so there's no problem on that score since the winds are still so quiet.

Last night it rained frequently and this morning is mostly cloud covered. That makes it cool and fresh. The roosters are crowing and the muted roar of the surf on the reef is a constant background.

Yesterday was just about ideal and that bears explanation.

We are out of the channel so there is no traffic; no boats, no fishermen, no water skiers, no parachute riders. Just privacy.

The weather was pleasant with partly cloudy skies and 5 knot wind to keep things cool. We kayaked out to the reef and had fabulous snorkeling, the best we've seen. The water was clear and fresh and cool coming over the reef with each wave. The coral was healthy and surrounded by the dozens and dozens of fish species, plants and animals that the nutrient rich water supports. The depth was about 5 feet and some of the coral heads came to the surface of the water so no great skill was required to hover and observe this rich demonstration of how abundant the sea life can be. So the day was spent snorkeling, swimming, reading, eating, drinking and talking. How could it get any better?

I feel as though I'm just getting into the rhythm of this place and now, in a day or so it will be over. A wonderful real-life, real-time experience stuffed into the limited storage of picture, word, and memory.

So that begs the question: "What is the next wonderful real experience to be?".

I hope I have the wisdom to find it in each day as I live it and not be limited only to experiencing daily beauty on exotic vacations.

It's always a struggle to avoid becoming inured to the wonder around us. Routine dulls our sense of wonder, and it seems we need an occasional jolt to re-experience it. We think that if we lived here in Huahine that every day would be fabulous, but it would only be so until our senses decided that it was routine and so hid most of it from us. We live in Tahoe or Grass Valley where the beauty of nature is all around us and yet we seldom stop to take it all in. We go about our business, preoccupied with our non-problems, and often the only real pleasure of the day is Bush Bashing--Don't get me wrong, there is a lot of pleasure in that.

Now the Sun's trying to rise above the hills but the clouds keep it hidden and a little rain squall is freshening the air and I sit here patiently, ever so patiently waiting for the welcome sound of Chris stirring from sleep so he will climb up into the galley and start the day with his special elixir blend of coffee.

Clearly Chris makes the best coffee I have ever had. Rich and strong and satisfying to the soul.

The gustatory experience on this cruise has really been exceptional, not because of multiple high dollar restaurant meals, but because of the expertise and innovation of Jana and Vicki.

For instance last night was exceptionally delicious. Brown rice steamed perfectly; myriad vegetables diced and sautéed with chunks of chicken and fresh ginger.

Chris is up now. A couple of hundred yards away a lone paddler is out enjoying the morning in his one man outrigger canoe. He's got a fishing pole so guess he's planning on fresh fish for breakfast. I watch him through the laundry pinned to the stern lifeline fascinated to see if he has any luck. It's raining heavily now and the coffee is almost ready. The paddling fisherman is standing up in his little outrigger to put on a raincoat. The laundry has been pinned up to the lifelines for days, now. It gets wetter and wetter each rainstorm but I guess it keeps it from getting moldy.

I suspect Jana's awake and reading just awaiting the smell of coffee to motivate her to climb out of her bunk and help start the day. I hate to stop writing now since I feel I should keep recording the efforts of the fisherman who repeatedly casts and retrieves his line--so far with no success. Still, coffee does call and so stand by for the off switch.

Back after breakfast of eggs, rice, Chinese vegetables, crunchy baguette, butter and freshly brewed coffee. Time to digest for a while before a kayak trip to the reef aquarium.

Everybody digests in their own way. Chris reads, Jana reads, and I write.

Looking out the window in the salon I see a breeze picking up and all of the laundry pinned to the lifelines has started desperately to let us know that it wants to be un-clothes-pinned and brought in. It's being largely ignored and so will have to endure another cycle of rain and then drying.

Vicki is doing here daily exercises. This consists of waving water bottles around in the air and of clutching one of them to her chest while she does crunches. She seems to take long rests between sets. I think she really likes lying in the shade and not exercising more than she likes to exercise.

There has been a strong intellectual component to our activity on this cruise. We have grappled with many important questions.

Why do dogs bark at night? How much water do you add to rice to cook it? How much water do you add to cereal to cook it? Is that really the Southern Cross? Isn't that other constellation the Southern Cross? Are you really sure that's the Southern Cross. How do you know it's the Southern Cross? Did you Google it? We also put a lot of conversational energy in solving the ills of the world. Came up with some good solutions besides the obvious one of get rid of that boob and his cronies in Washington.

It seems that all would be OK if everyone just would do their job and learn English. Well we sometimes just sit in the net and sing 99 bottles of beer on the wall.

Some interesting statistics are that I'm right 67.222% of the time. That's straight from Readers Digest.

We all agreed that it is a great inconvenience to be without Google to lean on. That's fine, but how do you assure yourself that Google isn't lying or mistaken? These are heavy questions that should be worked on if the gin holds out.

Thursday enroute to Tahaa from Huahine.

Sailing on a broad reach at about 8 knots for Tahaa. Wind 16 to 20 knots from the north. Chris is sailing the boat and has a creditable smile on his face.

Last night has a few glitches while we were anchored about a mile south of Fare. During the night a very large swell developed from the southwest. This caused a lot of water to enter the lagoon and resulted in about a 3 knot current at our anchorage. Fortunately our anchor was well set and we didn't drag. We did face a dilemma, however, in raising anchor since our windlass does not work correctly and frequently requires removing the chain from the capstan to manually rotate the mechanism. This is almost impossible to do with a strain on the anchor. We did figure out a way to make it happen, however and the anchor came up like greased moray eels.

The end, for now…