Tahiti and Moorea, June 16 through ???

Tahiti and Moorea are the two principal windward islands in the Society Islands archipelago of French Polynesia. They are only 15 miles apart. Latitude 38, the organizers of the loosely knit Puddle Jump Rally across the Pacific, organizes a Tahiti-Moorea Rendezvous every year to welcome those who have crossed the Pacific from the Americas that spring. The event started this year in Tahiti on Friday, June 22, and then there was a little race of sorts over to Moorea on Saturday, followed by activities and meals on Saturday and Sunday. We didn’t want to miss it, so we regretfully left the Tuamotu on June 16 to get to Tahiti in time to get settled before the festivities began.

Getting There

The rhumb line from Taou to Papeete, Tahiti was only a little over 200 miles, a two night overnight passage for us.  After crossing the Pacific, that didn’t seem like much, so I guess we were a little nonchalant about it.  The weather had been unsettled the whole time we were in Toau, sometimes raging with short interludes of calm.  We kept watching the weather reports. But no good weather window appeared that would allow us enough time to get to the Rendezvous.  (That is why we sailors hate appointments). There was a front passing through, but it was suggested that if we hurried, we would probably make it to Tahiti before the winds shifted all the way backwards around the clock to the SW, the least comfortable portion of the front.  Predict Wind, our chief weather source through Iridium, suggested that the average winds would be light for a day or two if we didn’t delay. So off we went on June 16.

Well, we had no such luck. The first day was nice, but the second day was hell.   We actually started off from Taou motoring with no wind early in the morning.By noon we had 17 knots true from the north, and we were sailing wing on wing.  It was a good afternoon sailing.  The only real excitement was when we realized a whale had decided to court Cool Change.  It was a lone whale. At first, we only heard its breathing; then we saw it.  He swam along at a respectable distance from us for a while, and then we found him swimming in parallel with us at the same speed, only about six feet from our hull.  Then he started crossing back and forth in front of our hull, very close.  We held our breath, thinking we would certainly bump into him, but he seemed to have it all under control.  Somehow I never got a picture or video of him, even though he was with us for at least two hours.  I think I was just too concerned to grab the camera about what he might do next.  We tried everything we had heard of to shake him: we turned the motor on and then off, we turned the depth sounder off, and we changed course, but none of those tricks worked.  I guess he just liked Cool Change.  Her hull is somewhat like the shape of a whale, you know. And she sure is a pretty green.  Who wouldn’t like her?  Haha! As night fell, he finally disappeared.  Later, we discovered that at least one other boat making the same passage at the same time had the same experience.

But after that, the winds kept shifting from one direction to another, mostly “backing,” as we refer to it in the northern hemisphere, when the winds shift backwards around the clock from E to NE to N to NW to W to SW and finally, when it is over, back to the E. And the winds kept changing strength, too. Just when we had the right sail configuration for a certain wind strength and direction, it would shift. It was a lot of work to keep changing sails.  By late evening, the winds had shifted to the NW and then the W.  We had squalls all night long. In the spaces of time between the squalls and the wind shifts, the wind would die and we would motor. The next thing you knew, by the second afternoon, we had big beam seas and were sailing fast on a beam reach. Then later in the afternoon, the wind shifted again to the SW and we were sailing close-hauled, unable to lay a course directly to Tahiti. We went from sailing dead downwind at the start, to close-hauled by the second afternoon.

The worst came, however, just before nightfall on the second day. The skies had been darkening all day as squalls blew through, but by late afternoon, we found ourselves surrounded by dark, towering clouds on every horizon except a little corner of the southeast quadrant.  Even though it was daytime, we turned on the radar to get a picture of the extent of the squalls. They were large and deep and they were everywhere.  There was no escape.  Then, off to the north of us about 4 miles away, the squall decided to form a waterspout – a tornado on the sea.  A big funnel cloud had swooped down into the ocean, lifting sea water up into its clutches in a broad circle as high and as wide as a large cruise ship.

Fuck!  Our sails were doused because the wind where we were had died again, probably the calm before the storm, literally.  We motored our little hearts out as fast as Cool Change could move us.  We were heading SW and the squall with the water spout was to the north of us, apparently heading approximately South.  So our hope was, we would get west fast enough that it would pass behind us.  Fortunately, the waterspout eventually dissipated before the squall reached us, but unfortunately, that squall merged with the squall directly in front of us to form one hell of a storm.  The rain started coming down, gently at first, and we knew were were entering the squall.  Then the winds picked up, from 1o knots to 15 to 20 to 25, and then before you knew it, the winds were 40 knots!  Rick was inside the companionway with the companionway slats partially placed, braced on the stairs.  I was outside in the cockpit, tethered in, but I was huddled underneath the dodger looking at the chartplotter information that was repeated on the iPad.  Neither of us had ever seen 40 knot winds and seas before.  I could see from the chartplotter data that the winds were coming from the SW, but it was hard to tell the direction of the swells; they were big, but their tops were chopped off and they seemed to swell like boiling oil from every direction.  The rain by now was coming down in bullets that hurt my skin, so I asked Rick to pass me a towel to cover my shoulders and shield my face.  I could barely distinguish the sea from the air above it, since spray and mist from the foaming seas combined with the rain to cloud the distinction.

After what seemed like hours but was probably only about 15 minutes, we were through the edge of the squall and into the middle of it, where the wind “calmed” to a mere 25 knots or so (still quite powerful, especially on the nose). During the 40 knot winds, Cool Change had slowed from motoring at about 5.5 knots down to no more than about 1.5 knots; we were almost at a standstill.  There was no way I was going to the helm to do anything until the winds calmed below 40 knots unless the need was life preserving, but once the winds dropped to 25, we were both able to get out there and deploy the staysail.  I am glad we didn’t have the staysail deployed when the 40 knots hit, as I am not sure how Cool Change might have responded – I think it is best to be bare poled with those winds.  We briefly considered turning around and heading downwind, but that felt like it would just prolong the agony, and the seas were so confused that it didn’t seem like it would help with the sea state anyway.  Once we deployed the staysail, our pace picked up to a respectable 4.5 to 5 knots. We sailed through and out of the squall within a couple more hours, and then found ourselves on the other side of the front, I guess.  The seas were remarkably flat, the night sky was clear and full of stars, and the wind was too light to sail. It was a little chilly.  We motored. By 0800, we were motoring two miles from the entrance to Papeete Harbor, Tahiti.

At first I was angry at PredictWind for misleading us into thinking we would have light winds, but then I studied PredictWind further and realized they quote not only average winds, but also, “gusts,” and something called “CAPE,” which apparently measures the amount of potential turbulence. I had downloaded data on gusts but I didn’t bother looking at it – I should have.  Everyone who says that PredictWind understates the actual wind they experienced, probably hasn’t been looking at the “gusts” information.  I have since been told that if “gusts” and “CAPE” are high, expect unsettled weather and unexpected turbulence.  Next time, I will check that!  Nevertheless, there really wasn’t a good time to have left to make it to the Rendezvous in time; friends who left the Tuamotu before and after us in that 10 day period or so, experienced similar conditions, although not many had the opportunity to experience 40 knot winds!  One singlehanded friend had his anchor become dislodged in one of those squalls, and had to go forward in wicked winds, all alone on his boat, to fix it so it wouldn’t make a hole in his hull.  We were just glad that Cool Change behaved so well and stood her ground. Nothing broke or came dislodged.

The Rendezvous

We had remained in contact with a handful of boats that crossed the ocean with us, communicating with them via Iridium or InReach during the crossing and seeing them in various anchorages since we arrived.  But there were a number of others behind us or ahead of us that we hadn’t seen since Mexico. We were looking forward to the Rendezvous to reunite with kindred spirits.

It was great so see so many faces of people we had met in Mexico who dared to take on the same, somewhat dangerous adventure of crossing the largest open ocean in the world, and discover that they, too, had survived. Indeed, as far as I know, there were no losses of boats nor lives in the Spring, 2018 Pacific crossing.  At the same time, the Rendezvous marked the beginning of the end of cruising together with most of the friends we had made of the bunch. The great majority of North Americans, including Canadians, could only remain in French Polynesia for three months, so most were leaving shortly after the Rendezvous was over.  Even those who could stay longer, like the Norwegians, Swedes and Danes we met, have the goal of New Zealand by November,  so they don’t have a lot of time to loose to cover all that ocean.  It is sad seeing them go, knowing our cruising venues will probably not cross again.  Most of them will be in New Zealand by cyclone season, while Cool Change will remain in French Polynesia.

Unfortunately, the Rendezvous event itself lacked organization and planning, so promises weren’t kept, the schedules were off, the meals were insufficient to feed all who had paid for them, the cocktails were late in coming, and too much priority was placed on info-mercials for future destinations and services.  The meals were tasty, however, and the shows, games and sporting events were really fun. And of course, the reunion with cruisers was the best.

We sailed over from Papeete to Cooks Bay, Moorea early Saturday morning ahead of the race because it takes us longer than most and we wanted to get a good anchoring spot in shallow water.  We ended up anchoring outside of the bay between the barrier reef and the island, in 10 feet of water.  That was perfect for us, because otherwise, the organizers would have required that we anchor in 60 feet of water in the center of the bay, too deep for us to feel comfortable with only 200 feet of chain.

Some of the highlights of the event, besides seeing friends, were the Polynesian dancing performances and the outrigger canoe races.  We gathered together a crew of two more ambitious sailors and, together with two skilled Polynesian outrigger students, we formed a team of six we named Cool Runnings.  We were quite proud of not coming in last, and had a ball racing an outrigger in the bay.

Rick captured a dance by the men at the Saturday evening show at the Rendezvous.  Baryshnikov, it ain’t.  These are some of the most masculine dancers ever.

Moorea

They call Moorea, Tahiti’s “little sister.”  Tahiti, especially Papeete, is lucky to have her.  Papeete is a necessary evil, with all the shopping and provisioning and services you need, but it really isn’t very charming.  Everyone flies internationally into Tahiti, so that is the island that has the international reputation, but it is really the other islands in the Society Islands that are most tourists’ final destination.

Moorea, on the other hand, is charming.  We decided to stay there for several after the Rendezvous had concluded.  We rented little 50 cc scooters for the day and drove the 60 kilometer circumference of the island and up to a lookout called Belvedere.  Our friends Roy from Mabrouka and his new Swiss crew member, Danielle, joined us in their boat for a few days. We went snorkeling and ate out at some of the fancier islands resorts. We explored several anchorages in preparation for our son Dan’s visit, intending to bring him back to Moorea with us.

Papeete, Tahiti

Concerned about a weather system about to blow in, we decided to head back to Papeete, Tahiti.  We are here now, as I write this.  The marina in downtown Papeete is quite convenient for just about everything, and it has good showers and decent internet once you get the hang of how to make it work for you.  The docks are like legos, however, and we wouldn’t want to be here during cyclone season, but at this time of year, it is fine.  The only problem with this marina is that they don’t take reservations, and during the high season, they are always threatening that they will be full.  So far we have been lucky but we are a little concerned about leaving before our son Dan gets here for fear we won’t get back in to pick him up, or later, to take him back to the airport.  We are hoping that the departure of many of our North American friends, whose visas are expiring, will free up some room soon.  We applied for long term visas, so we don’t have that worry.

(picture of marina)

While we are here in Papeete, we are taking advantage of what it has to offer.  One of the events happening in Papeete this July is the Heiva, a competition of traditional dancers, singers and musicians from all over French Polynesia. We went to the opening night of the contests.  The dancing was spectacular.  We weren’t supposed to take pictures but I managed this short video:

Outside the performance hall, there was food and trinkets being sold, and additional dance performances.  I captured a few pictures of the dancers there too.

We also are taking advantage of the opportunity to buy pretty much anything we want here.  There are large grocery stores and even big-box stores, but some of the best fruit and vegetables can still be found at the traditional market.

Just for Fun: Silly Little But Sometimes Annoying Differences

I haven’t found French Polynesia that exotic compared to, say, Thailand, maybe because French is spoken and therefore seems more familiar, even though I have lost my command of French if I ever had it.  But just when you think you have the hang of things, and it is not quite so different from home, something springs up to remind you that you are in a foreign land. Here are some examples:

So, that is it for Tahiti right now. Our son Dan is scheduled to arrive here on July 20 for 10 days so we might just stay here in the marina to get some maintenance work taken care of, or we may get out to explore more anchorages on the Island of Tahiti before Dan comes. Either way, we should have a little more to add about Tahiti and Moorea later.