Tiny Toau

It was an overnight passage of about 100 nautical miles from Rangiroa to our next stop, Toau.  Toau is a small atoll lying south east of Rangiroa, with a false pass on the western side which makes a secluded and quiet anchorage.  A false pass is a kind of blind alley, or cul-de-sac where there is a break in the outer reef to pass through but it doesn't open completely into the inner lagoon.  What’s formed is a bay, or inlet, and the Anse Amyot in Toau, as it is called in French, is one of the most beautiful examples in these islands.

We left Rangiroa around 1pm to ensure we would exit the eastern pass there in good light.  This left us a few hours before sunset to put out the fishing rod.  Just after we rounded the northern corner of Rangiroa and established our heading for Toau, we heard the reel screaming and I jumped down to the back, only to lose the bite after 20 seconds or so.  But just a few minutes later off it went again, and this time I reeled in a nice Wahoo - now becoming one of our favourite fish to eat. After filleting the wahoo and packing away the meat into the refrigerator, enough for two good meals, we set the lure again, and within 30 minutes it was off once more.  A short fight later and we pulled in a nice yellowtail tuna - not a huge specimen but again enough for two large meals.  It was proving to be a good fishing day!

The passage otherwise was uneventful.  On this side of Toau, there is only one family - Gaston and Valentina, who live here in a small house with a couple of guest bungalows on the north side of the bay.  They maintain a few mooring balls in the bay to allow several boats to moor and make best use of the relatively small area available.  We arrived around 10am and slowly motored into the bay to find the western-most ball available, so we manoeuvred to pick it up.  As we slowed for me to reach the ball with the boat hook, I saw the shapes of two large sharks swimming below in the crystal clear blue water, only 20 feet deep.  I was reminded for a second of our mooring ball fiasco in Guadeloupe where I fell in over-reaching to grab a particularly stubborn ball, and I made sure to double check my grip as I reached down.  In any event, these reef sharks are harmless so would probably have simply thought ‘WTF’ if I had splashed down on top of them.  Safely hooked, I tied off the ball on both bow cleats and we completed our post-passage check list before retiring for a nap, as we often do after an overnight passage. 

The following day we took the dinghy over to introduce ourselves to the infamous Gaston and Valentina - as we found out later in Fakarava after talking to a resident there - ‘everyone knows Gaston and Valentina!’.  No sooner had we said ‘hello’, than Gaston jumped into his ever-ready fishing boat and sped full-tilt out to the open sea.  We looked at Valentina, and she gestured at the flock of large sea birds in the distance and said ‘humpback whales!’.  We too, along with a couple of other dinghies that got the memo, sped out to where Gaston was now bobbing around, in hope of seeing a whale.  It seems the whales scare a lot of fish, which is lunchtime for the birds, so a large group of feeding birds can often mean a whale.  If not, Gaston had hoped, it meant at least a larger fish chasing the smaller fish for the birds.  On this occasion, it was neither. The whale had moved further out to open water, and Gaston broke his handline after hooking some sea monster.  Back at base, we continued our conversation with the pair and enquired tentatively about dinner - the rumour was that this friendly couple would cook guests up a lovely local meal of fish, chicken and lobster if there was enough interest.  In fact they were somewhat busy preparing a lunch, with the help of one of the crew, for about ten guests on a charter catamaran that had anchored in the centre of the bay that morning.  Unfortunately, even after we had canvassed some interest from two of the other boats there for a dinner the following evening, it transpired that G & V were exhausted after the lunch marathon and needed a day or two off from cooking!

No problem, there was a lot here to enjoy anyway.  We immediately jumped into the clear blue water off the back of india to snorkel the extensive coral heads.  There were many beautiful live corals with the usual myriad of colourful fish of all sizes swimming about.  And as expected a shark here and there.  These black-tip sharks would swim into our peripheral vision, in curiosity, but soon speed away when we showed any interest in them.  Most, if not all, of the sharks found in the shallow waters of the reefs and lagoons here are harmless.  One sees reef, nurse, black-tip and white-tip sharks, beautiful animals in there own habitat. Some of the grouper we saw snorkelling here were huge, and some of the biggest we had seen anywhere.  Not safe to hunt and eat unfortunately due to the risk of Cigueterra poisoning.

This also proved to be a great spot for our SDPs - if you remember that’s ‘Sit Down Paddleboards’.  We rowed them like pros from one side of the pass to the other, over the reefs, to the neighbouring Motus, and everywhere in between.  A good workout for us lazy sailors.  Also the weather here was perfect for drone flying - almost no wind and bright blue skies,  We spent some hours one day flying the drone all around, both during the day and at sunset, and made some beautiful footage to show the layout of the Anse Amyot.  Before we left, we wanted to find out more about the pearls we had seen Valentina sorting a day or two earlier.  At her table in the shade she had sat with a plastic tub full of bags of pearls of all sizes and colours.  Since Dara had fallen in love with the Polynesian pearls, we were determined to buy some for a necklace at some point, to match the bracelet we had bought in Taha’a a couple of months previously  So, finding Valentina at a lull in her usual busy day, we asked about the pearls. Yessss! Of course you can see them!! And they are for sale too!!!  So it was we spent a lovely hour or so, poring over all the different pearls in Valentina’s plastic tub. They literally were all sizes and colours.  Dara painstakingly looked at every pearl in the size range 8-10mm, looking for the most round examples, the glossiest ones, and the most interesting colours.  She was able to pick 65 beautiful examples, enough to make a generous necklace, and we struck a deal with Valentina which made us all happy.  I think she has given each of them a name, but see the photo below to spot your favourite.

That evening, G & V offered to cook lobsters for us, on the grill with garlic butter, along with four others from two other boats.  We met before sunset, bringing cocktails to share, and also some gifts to offer, which is traditional for the local inhabitants, since they rarely see some of the luxuries we are used to.  We brought an old pair of sunglasses. (always useful in this climate), some olive oil, corned beef, after sun lotion, writing journal and pens, and a spare 12V battery I had been storing for a while.  We drank and chatted for a while as the lobsters slowly grilled to perfection. We learned all about the menagerie they tend here - chickens, pigs, bees, puppies and kittens.  The chickens and pigs are for food, and they eat the super cute little piglets at about eight months old - we were invited back for a suckling pig roast next time!  The bee hives in particular were flourishing and we bought a jar of honey they make themselves.  Shortly after sunset we took our three lobsters back to the boat, to eat with salad and garnishes, only to hear later that we missed some fun as a slightly tipsy Gaston and a couple of equally tipsy guests tried to retrieve a chicken from a tree...   Never a dull moment in paradise.

The Hotel Rangiroa

 Arriving from Tikehau on a twenty mile motor sail just off the wind to the east, we tucked into the tumultuous Avatoru Pass on the northern boundaries of Rangiroa.   Steering india elegantly through the reefs impinging the entrance, we surfed swiftly through the narrows past the main pier and red spired church at the end of town.  The wrecked sailboat at the western most corner visibly confirmed that the wider turn at the eastern end of the channel was the correct path in the Y that formed along two sides of a small island as we swept past and emptied into an immense and translucent royal blue lagoon.  Coming in from a long day on the agitated seas, stunning Avatoru is one of the most exciting and scenic passes we’ve ever seen.

Rangiroa, meaning ‘Vast Sky’ in the local dialect, is an enormous atoll in the northern Tuamotos, so vast that it has its own horizon.  Not only is it the largest atoll in French Polynesia, it is reputed as the second largest atoll on the planet.  It is large enough in area to fit the entire island of Tahiti inside of its lagoon.   In many ways unique, this atoll is well known for spectacular diving and snorkeling, vast marine life, two deep and navigable passes, scenic motus encrusted with jagged lava sculptures, and the only commercially producing vineyard in French Polynesia.

So where does one begin to explore this particularly inviting paradise?  On high recommendation, we wandered into the village at the far end of the main atoll near our anchorage to a small pension and restaurant called Relais Josephine.  We found refreshment on a wooden deck overhanging the other pass, Tiputa.  Relais Josephine has the best viewing platform around where it is possible to dine, have a beer or sip a glass of the local wine, all with a front row seat to a frolicking family of dolphins and the stampede of local dive craft on the incoming tide.  What a spectacle!  And the local wine?  The Rose Nacarat is exquisite!

Tiputa Pass

Avatoru Pass

Relais Josephine also rents bicycles, so the next day we set off across the flat roads of the largest motu from one end to the other (about 12.5 Km) on our rusty retro steeds.  It was a breezy day but still very hot, with sunburn inducing, skin piercing rays.  It is a fun way to explore the island and the most common way to get around amongst the tourists and locals alike.  We stopped to admire the church and pier we buzzed on our way in through the channel on the far side of the motu, and visited a few pearl shops and grocery stores and had a fresh fruit smoothie en route.  A great way to get a little exercise while exploring the nooks and crannies of Rangiroa!

Most days, we tied the dinghy to a mooring at the appropriately named ‘Aquarium’ nearby for a snorkel.  A healthy coral reef flows outward from the small island at the bottom of Tiputa Pass and inside of the currents are numerous schools of tropical fish in myriads of colors and shapes and a diversity of healthy sponges and corals and always a few black tipped sharks.  We’ve become accustomed to them as they follow us around.  Ever timid, they dart away when we chase them, much like playing with a friendly stray pup.  Soon we were visiting our favorite territorial reef fish every day, so familiar we became with this giant aquatic museum, and it never grew tiresome.  One day David spotted a giant and very menacing brown eel halfway out of its cove in the rocks.  We wanted to take a closer look.  Even though I am familiar with eels from my SXM days and I know that they are somewhat blind and breathe with their mouths wide open, fangs exposed, lending to the alarming optics, we left him alone.  I have seen them rush out when provoked and I estimate this monster at six feet long by the size of its head! 

Before long, we were signed up for a couple of SCUBA dives with Dive Rangiroa in the Tiputa Pass.  Having watched the progression of professionals from the decks of Relais Josephine, we thought it prudent and infinitely more enjoyable and trouble free to dive with a company rather than risk the strong currents on our own with a small dinghy.  It was the right decision for the aforementioned reasons but also saved time and disaster being led to the most advantageous spots to see the varied marine life at its best.  Our first dive was mid morning.  Having battled the incoming seas on the powerful dive boat outbound Tiputa Pass, we were briskly deposited on the exterior reefs just before the tide turned.  It was a steep slope into a deep blue abyss but the wall of reef leading towards the pass was vibrant with abundant marine life.  We followed along the wall at a leisurely pace stopping to admire a large puffer fish and a plethora of other fish each more colorful than the last, until the current grabbed us at the entrance and swept us inside.  Putting on the brakes as best as we could we slipped into a series of caves.  There we could easily pause and adjust our vision to the fish taking refuge in the motionless shadows.  It was exhilarating and we quickly signed up for the sunset dive on another day to see the sharks and dolphins!  This dive deposited us on the wall again but further out.  As the light fades, the sharks come up from the depths to feed.  We were pleasantly amused by an onslaught of hundreds of petite black and white damselfish appearing like a swarm of butterflies on a wildflower field until the first shark arrived.  Soon it was a cavalcade of Black Tips and Lemon Sharks and a couple of white finned sharks as well.  I stopped counting at sixteen when we reached the pass.  Our Divemaster, Alex, motioned for us to hold position on some dead corals in the current while he banged on a rock, presumably to call the dolphins.  And just when we had almost given up, they appeared!  A family of five or six!  I was so excited to see them and get them on film while fighting the strengthening current that I blew through my air reserve!  They are magnificent and I had never seen them while IN THE WATER.  I managed to film them in the dimming light at a distance but to see them is a moment I will never forget.

Around this time a very friendly couple from a neighboring sailboat stopped by india to say hello.  Vicky is British and has traveled the world by sailboat and Greg hails from California, also very well traveled on his own sailing vessels.  They were a great source of information and super fun company.  They told us they were headed to a notch on the south end chain of motus to shelter from a Mara’amu Blow coming our way.  We had been thinking along the same lines, so followed them over a day later after our second dive and a chance to buy fresh citrus from the Marquesas from the visiting supply ship.  Not only was it a great place to hide from the weather but we found the enchanting lagoon and rugged windward coast with the incredible lava formations sculpted by nature.  We passed the time climbing around and exploring the amazing scenery together by day and entertained each other with food and drinks and delightful conversations in the evenings.  After the blow, india headed out first to take in the notable tourist attraction of the Blue Lagoon on the western end of Rangiroa.   After a beautiful downwind sail of 12 NM, we were in for a surprise that evening as the wind picked up around the very exposed anchorage causing the waves to roll in and dump on this western most edge of the atoll.  Our first inclination was to get the hell out, another small monohull did just that, but we decided to tough it out for the night since we were already there and scrambled into the dinghy early the next morning to see the famous Blue Lagoon.  It was panoramic, calm and certainly beautiful.  The locals had cultivated a shark tank for the tourists outside the entrance channel.  We watched the snorkelers squeal and jump out of the local tourist rigs into the shark infested waters for a moment on our way out, but by that time we had seen what we came for and were anxious to be on our way!  Is wasn’t as secluded and pristine as the other small lagoon we had found earlier in the week and we hope the locals keep that one to themselves!

Our penultimate anchorage was tucked up in the lee of the Avatoru pass where we entered the atoll from Tikehau on our very first day.  We hoped to find some shelter from the next batch of weather coming our way and maybe pick up some cell service while waiting out the blow.  It was closer to the town of Avatoru, and on good recommendation we found fresh vegetables, fuel for the dinghy, and it was only a mile’s walk to the Vin de Tahiti Wine Cave.  The anchorage was lined with coral and pretty sand beaches of cocotiers.   We enjoyed our stay but the uncooperative weather and unfavorable wind direction was causing uncomfortable delay for our next destination of Ahe to the Northeast, so we decided to scrap it altogether and head Southeast to Toau with the next weather window instead.  Beautiful as it was, it was starting to feel like Hotel Rangiroa, where we were checked out and ready to go, but never able to leave.  We had spent almost six weeks in Rangiroa, the longest time we’ve spent anywhere else in French Polynesia.  Other destinations were calling, so we moved to our original anchorage as soon as the weather broke to time our exit out of the eastern Tiputa pass.

Tikehau - a bad day in paradise...

After a few relaxing days in Mo’orea, we headed back to Pape’ete in Tahiti, to our original anchorage near the airport where we had initially arrived in French Polynesia back in early May.  We wanted to take advantage of passing through Tahiti to do a little provisioning as this would be our last real stop in civilisation before our up-coming 2000 nautical mile passage to Hawaii.  As luck would have it, and as the deconfinement was now well under way, we were able to buy tickets in Pape'ete for the annual Heiva - a festive celebration of the traditional Polynesian dance and music art form.  It was a magical evening of colour and movement, well attended by the local population, glad that life was returning to normality.

Heiva in Tahiti - the colours!

Our plan was to immediately move to the Tuamotus - a large group of atolls in a string from north west to south east, where we would spend 10-12 weeks before making a final move to the Marquesas - the smaller group of volcanic islands in the east of Polynesia which would have marked our originally intended landfall after our Pacific crossing, but now would be the final staging point before the Hawaii passage.  With the south east prevailing winds of winter called the Mara’amu, any movement eastwards requires some planning and often waiting for a gap in the strong headwinds.  Our track to the first of our Tuamotu atolls, Tikehau, was north east from Tahiti, so we just needed the wind to be a little south of east to make the move.  We picked a window and jumped - leaving in the morning from Point Venus in the north of Tahiti for a 24 hour sail.  The wind was a little stronger than we anticipated, so as we settled into the sail we found ourselves with two reefs in the mainsail, reducing the overall sail area and making the boat more controllable in higher winds, and even reefing the Genoa a little.  We made fast and furious progress in the high winds and big seas, and arrived at the westerly pass in Tikehau right at dawn, making the 180-odd miles in under 24 hours.

The pass at Tikehau, like many throughout the Tuamotus, can be tricky.  There are many factors in play that make them easy at times, but potentially disastrous at others.   All the atolls have a ring of coral and sand motus (islets) around a large central lagoon, which can be between 20 and 100 feet deep and many miles wide.  The surrounding sea breaks and washes over and between the motus to fill the lagoon, so the pass(es) - and there are often only one or two - typically have a fast outgoing current all the time as they drain the excess lagoon water.  On top of this, there are local tides adding to or subtracting from that effect, then wind and waves in addition.  And if all that wasn’t enough of a challenge, the passes are always narrow, often less than 200 feet wide with coral reefs and rocky outcrops on the sides, and sometimes shallow.  As it was this morning at Tikehau, everything was against us, including a head wind of 26 Knots, the outgoing current was probably six knots against us, and with both engines at 3/4 throttle we made only about two knots of forward progress.  At that speed it seemed to take forever to move through the pass, although only 1/2 mile or so long, but eventually we broke out from the maelstrom waters in the pass to move into the much more calm interior lagoon.  It was another six miles of relatively calm motoring through the lagoon, in lighter wind and some waves, to reach our anchorage just outside the main village of Tikehau.

As the winds were still quite strong, we found the anchorage to be fairly ‘rolly’ as the motus of the atoll don’t offer much protection against the wind.  The next day we moved north east a little where some heavily palmed motus promised maybe a little more shelter.  We found a few other boats here, and it turned out they were almost all kite boarding fans so we spent a couple of days surrounded by boards whizzing through the waves.  The Tuamotus offer perfect conditions for kite boarding almost everywhere as we subsequently discovered, and oddly enough when it is an activity you don’t participate in yourself, it seems more of an annoyance than anything else.  Having said that, I mean to give it a try before we leave the Tuamotus, and I’m sure will find it addicting.  

My new sport perhaps?

As the winds still hadn’t abated, we went in search of more shelter and after a gentle 15 mile motor sail we arrived at the Garden of Eden in the north east corner of the lagoon.  This area was much more sheltered and with only a few boats a nice, comfortable distance away.  The so-called Garden of Eden in normal times is a vegetable growing farm, with a small resort, where one could buy vegetables on the dock, but since the start of lockdown has been closed and actually looked quite dilapidated.  I hope eventually it will reopen, as I am sure it was a welcome source of scarce vegetables for both the local communities and visiting boats alike.

Aside from crystal clear waters, beautiful beaches and a great kite boarding destination, Tikehau is quiet, with only a small village with few amenities and just a couple of small resorts.  We had our fist real taste of lagoon sailing here, where one of you has to be positioned on the bow at all times on the look out for the potentially boat-crushing pinnacles of coral that rise from 40 or 50 foot depths to lie just below the surface - the dreaded ‘bommies’.  These give away their presence easily in sunlight because of their lime green appearance, and sometimes a wave break, but without constant attention they could easily prove to be the cause of a very, very bad day in paradise…

Pink sand everywhere