Tuesday 24 November 2020

The last of the Tuamotus...

After the beautiful anchorages and diving of Fakarava, the time had come to move on.  We have somewhat of a schedule to exit the Tuamotus and spend a few weeks exploring the as-yet unvisited by us Marquesas, before our passage to Hawaii in November.  An early morning exit from the South pass of Fakarava was in order to meet the slack tide and avoid a turbulent exit.  As it happened we timed it perfectly and motored easily into the South Pacific Ocean to find three other boats leaving almost at the same time.  Our plan was to sail to Faiite, a small less frequently visited atoll just 13 miles from Fakarava and spend perhaps one night there.


It was a gentle sail over to Faiite, and as always we took a chance on the state of the pass, instead of trying to plan our entrance for slack tide, as we do our exits.  When we approach we can usually tell how fast the lagoon water is leaving or entering the lagoon by watching the standing waves created at the mouth of the pass.  India is sufficiently powered and stable enough to power her way through almost any opposing current, even if it reduces our forward speed significantly.  As it was today - we were watching the standing waves and starting our approach into the pass when we looked back and saw a huge humpback whale playing in the surf.  Until you see one of these majestic oceanic creatures up close, it’s hard to imagine just how big they are.  As they frolic and roll in the upper layers of the ocean they look like small islands until they raise a fin into the air, or breech their tale.  As this one raised its fin high into the air, it appeared to be waving us ‘goodbye’ and safe passage!  A beautiful early morning greeting to Faiite.


A humpback whale waves to us...

As expected, we made slow progress through the narrow pass, slowing to only 1.5 knots at times, but before long we found ourselves inside the lagoon looking for a good spot to anchor.  The tiny village here is situated on the south border of the pass, so we took a right turn after the pass to anchor close to the village.  There were many pearl farms in the shallow waters, and where there weren’t farms there were treacherous bommies and coral shelves, so it took a moment of concentration to find a suitable place to drop anchor.  Finally we were in.  Honestly, Faiite is one of the less interesting atolls, so we intended to quickly visit the village and maybe swim and snorkel around the boat, before leaving the next morning for Tahanea.  The village was quaint, but very sleepy, being a Sunday.  Apart from a small array of houses, the obligatory school and church, and a couple of small ‘magasins’ - grocery stores - there was little to see.  Once back at the boat we jumped in to snorkel the beautiful clear water, and immediately saw a problem.  Even in 35 feet of water we could see that the anchor chain was wedged under a large coral outcrop and would likely be difficult if not impossible to raise from the boat.  Chances were it would even wrap and jam more as the day went on and the boat moved around, leading to the dreaded ‘Devil’s knitting’ tangle.  Luckily we have Scuba gear on board, and I would not recommend anyone anchoring in the Tuamotus without it, so it only took a few minutes to don the tank and dive down to free the chain from its coral prison so we could rest easy knowing no drama was ahead of us.



The pretty village in Faiite

And a sleepy one at that



The following morning, just after daybreak, we weighed anchor and took the slack tide ride out of the pass, to head east to Tahanea. This was the atoll that we visited on our passage from Panama, and held a special place in our hearts as our French Polynesian landfall.  We were eager to go back as it was stunningly beautiful, uninhabited, with crystal clear water and a myriad of wildlife both above and below the water’s surface.  The 45 mile ride was almost due east, and since the prevailing winds are easterly, we unsurprisingly motored almost all the way there, arriving mid afternoon and passing quickly through the most westerly of the three easy passes into the lagoon.  When we arrived we were alone, and anchored not far from the very spot we first dropped anchor all those months ago.  Everything looked as it was then, and we couldn’t wait to explore this time round, as we were unable to leave the boat before.  We relaxed for the evening while another large charter catamaran joined us at anchor later.  Tahanea is really a gem in the Tuamotus and one of our favourite atolls, perhaps along with Toua.


We had been watching the weather closely as one has to pick narrow windows to move eastwards in these parts, and unfortunately a good window with sailing winds was approaching two days hence.  This meant we only had two nights and a full day to enjoy Tahanea. We intended to make the most of our day however and were up early to dinghy over to the middle pass and explore the beach.  The coral and rock formations, sculpted by the seas over millions of years, are just incredible and line most of the land in these atolls, especially on the outside where the Pacific breakers relentlessly pound the shores.  We flew the drone and took video here so we could better see the land and shore features, including the topography of the passes.  We noticed on the way through the pass the day before there were a few huge Manta rays swimming effortlessly on the surface, so planned to take a drift snorkel in the pass at slack tide that afternoon to see if we could find them again.  Before that, we took the dinghy to the east pass to explore an incredible blue lagoon we had spotted when arriving.  After anchoring the dinghy on the rocky shore, we walked through knee deep, crystal clear, sun-warmed waters into the tiny inland lagoon with its fine sand bottom, giving it the incredible blue hue.  A quick lunch back at the boat, and we were off again on the planned trip to the pass to see the Mantas!  We had only been in the water a few minutes and we found them, as expected, gliding along the western wall of the pass.  The water was only 40- 50 feet deep in the pass and so clear that the bottom, as well as the sides of course, was easily visible.  We took two or three dives along the pass and filmed the Manta rays each time - huge, relaxed and fearless creatures moving with such grace through their underwater world.  Together with the drone footage we took earlier, we were able to use the underwater GoPro footage and many still photographs to make a great collage video of our day in Tahanea.  We wished we could stay a few days more, but our schedule and the wind was waiting…


A birds eye view of the central pass in Tahanea

Our isolated anchorage - the dark spots are the 'bommies'

More of the central pass

'You're gonna need a bigger boat.....'

Beautiful, serene Manta Rays


The next day saw us with an early start, and exiting the middle pass, again at slack tide, to make the 50 mile sail North East to Makemo, our next port of call.  Makemo is a large atoll with a pass on the Western end, and another on the North East side where the main town sits.  We were aiming to make the Western pass before nightfall, and although we picked the weather window hoping to sail all the way, we struggled and ended up sailing only half of the way, and using the motor and the main sail (‘motor-sailing’) the remainder.  Nevertheless we arrived a little before dark, and anchored just inside the Western pass.  This spot proved to be extremely uncomfortable however as we were being buffeted by the waves and swell picking up along the whole length of the atoll east to east, about 25 miles.  Early the next morning we weighed anchor and took off, happy to be out of the ‘washing machine’.  We had been told of a beautiful anchorage halfway down the Northern side of the lagoon, just inside a small headland.  It was 8 miles so we were able to reach it in about two hours.  This turned out to be a much quieter and more tranquil spot and we were happy to spend a couple of nights just relaxing and taking in the beauty of Makemo.  We had heard that Makemo had good provisioning and after a few weeks in the smaller Tuamotus we were ready for some of the scarce fruit and vegetables that might be on offer.  A few miles further down the Northern side of the lagoon and we came upon the main town Pouheva, next to our exit pass.  Although not the prettiest anchorage next to the large town quay, it proved very convenient as we had anchored next to a river outflow where we could enter with the dinghy and tie up on a rock only a couple of hundred yards from the magasins, with their fresh vegetables and freshly baked baguettes.  We had heard previously that Makemo was one of the friendliest towns in the Tuamotus and over the next few days we came to understand why.  Even though we are in the midst of Covid throughout the world, the locals here are incredibly welcoming.  Everybody takes the time to say ‘Bonjour’ or ‘Io Rana’ and smile, a real big genuine smile.  The small town is enchanting with a lovely school, a college and a beautiful catholic church.  There are several magasins, a bakery and even a local with a vegetable garden and an egg farm.  We needed to provision a little, enough for the next two to three weeks while we make our way through the final Tuamotu atolls then a three day passage to the Marquesas.  This was to be the last hint of civilisation before the Marquesas and we made the most of it.  There is a lovely artisan craft market on the quay, and we bought a small souvenir - a polished oyster shell Christmas tree ornament - before we left. The ladies looking after the market were so nice and gave us a small bunch of flowers for the boat as a gift!


The lovely catholic church in the friendliest Tuamotu - Makemo

Back of said church

The lighthouse in Makemo


After our short stay in Makemo, we had only one more atoll to visit before the Marquesas passage - Raroia. This atoll is on the North East corner of the Tuamotus and is famous for being the first landfall made by Thor Heyerdahl on the Kon-Tiki raft after his epic 101 day crossing from Peru in 1947.  After arriving in Raroia one grey morning, we were surprised to find how difficult it was to find a good anchor spot.  The charts and soundings were a little off, and the low light meant it was harder to safely navigate through the numerous bommies we found here.  We wandered about for an hour or so, down to the town area, back up to the pass, then finally further North in search of that perfect spot.  We finally settled a couple of miles north of the pass next to the motu, and behind a large, prominent bommie in about 50 feet of water.  Here we would stay until a good weather window to make the 400 mile passage to the Marquesas presented itself.  There were very few boats here in Raroia, partly due to its remoteness and also because of the lack of easy anchoring, but that always suits us nicely.  As always each atoll has a character of its own, and Raroia did not disappoint.  The crystal clear water was perfect for snorkelling, and we took advantage of being close to that huge bommie to explore.  It was full of live coral and teeming with pretty coral fish of all shapes, sizes and colours.  Again, fantastic snorkelling right off our back porch!  The spot where the Kon-Tiki crash-landed into the outer reef of Raroia is marked by a small monument,  but it was several miles away on the other (eastern) side of the lagoon, and due to the abundance of bommies and our timing for the weather, we chose not to visit.  Within just a few days, the winds were predicted to turn from North East to more East, at around 15-20 knots, which have us a good chance to make the 400 mile passage North under sail.  The Marquesas is a relatively compact group of islands, and our plan was to sail as east as we could make it, and see where we ended up.  Not very scientific it seems, but in order to make best use of the weather, it was a good enough plan.  From wherever we landed, we could then plan our grand tour around the islands before ending up in Nuku Hiva - our exit portal for Hawaii!  Read about that next time…




Here you can see the huge bommie next to us, rising up from 60ft depths



Some stunning drone views of our anchorage in Raroia