Diving into the Tuamotus

Our new windlass purred as it pulled up our anchor at 5am on a Saturday morning and we slipped out of Nuku Hiva, heading south to The Tuamotu’s.   We had timed our departure so we would arrive at our first atoll at slack tide as the narrow entrance can be treacherous with a strong current if timed incorrectly.  

The Tuamotus are a group of sparsely populated atolls, spread over an area equivalent in size to Western Europe but with a combined land area of only 850sq km’s.   They are located just to the north of Tahiti and are part of French Polynesia with probably the atoll that New Zealanders are most familiar with, Moruroa, where the French conducted nuclear weapon testing from 1966 until 1996.  It’s hard to believe anyone would consider it a good idea to destroy these beautiful atolls and the ocean around it.  The 80 islands and atolls had been on my destination list for a long time as the marine life is exceptional in and around the atolls, particularly the abundance of sharks, colourful fish, stingrays and mantarays.   The islands are, in effect, coming to the end of their lives as they are slowly disappearing beneath the sea, accelerated by global warming, with nothing but a line of palm trees and breaking waves on an empty horizon indicating their existence.

Our course took us past the small island of Ua-Pou the last island in the Marquesas chain, with its magnificent rock formations dominating our view for a few hours while we skirted around its eastern side, temporarily sailing into a wind shadow caused by high hills.   Our speed picked up again to over 8knots as we enjoyed some great fast sailing being expertly steered by Hilda the Hydrovane as we continued our passage south.   On day two, after an uneventful but lovely night of fast sailing, I started to feel unwell again and spent the rest of the passage nursing the start of a migraine – this has now become a regular occurrence and I have decided to take preventative measures in future in the shape of strong medication!  

Steve and Hilda took care of the boat and me, while I tweaked the sails, made small adjustments and generally sat in the corner of the cockpit feeling crap!   After 48hrs of sailing the batteries were in need of topping up so we ran the engine to give them a short boost.  I was looking at the monitor to check how many amps were going in and was pleased to see the battery voltage slowly increasing when suddenly all positive input stopped and, although the engine was still running, no charge was going into the batteries.   We discovered that a bolt had sheered on the arm that tightens the fan belt to the alternator so Steve rigged up a temporary fix until we could extract the broken bolt.   Relieved, we continued our passage, maintaining good speed covering over 160nm in 24hrs, moving our expected arrival time forward a few hours so we decided to go as fast as possible to arrive at the slack tide 6hrs earlier than we had originally calculated.   Our timing was perfect and at 5am we were approaching the northern part of Raroia, ready to enter the atoll on the western side at 6am slack water.   Close to the entrance we furled the jib and I turned the key to start the engine ……… nothing happened!   Steve tried to figure out what had happened and together with our good friends on Escapade of London, who were anchored inside the atoll and whom we woke up with a plead for help on the VHF radio, we were able to identify and resolve the issue.   By this time a few hours had passed and, although other boats were still entering the pass, I had lost confidence in the engine and aborted one attempt as we followed another boat towards the pass.    I needed to settle my nerves and regain confidence in the engine, so we motor sailed outside the atoll for a while, deciding to make water while the engine was running and the batteries charging.   It was at this point Steve reached the bottom of his despair as the watermaker refused to build pressure – infact there was probably more pressure in Steve than in the watermaker pump at this moment.   We had reached the lowest point and we were stuck outside being bounced around in the sea where even a pod of big whales that surfaced very close to us, could not raise our spirits.   We needed to get in and sort things out.    After watching another boat enter the pass, I decided to go for it and we lined ourselves up with the markers following a route given to us by another cruiser.   The boat ahead of us radioed to say he was seeing 4knts of current against him, so I knew we had to power up and be prepared for a little bit of skidding as we moved out of the strong flow.   With Steve at the bow, looking out for any bommies (coral heads) and me watching our track, depth and heartrate, we sped into the pass.  To be honest, we have been through worse but when people talk about sailing in the Tuamotus the main topic is the entrance into the atolls so I had been a little overly cautious than was necessary.    We were through and now just had to weave our way through bommies, shallows and disused sunken pearl farm buoys to get to the northern anchorage.    Raroia is 20nm long, surrounded by a reef that is, in the most part, above water level.   These stretches of land are covered in Palm trees with white, coral scattered beaches dominating the intense blue waterscape of the lagoon.   A few houses are hidden in the trees with the islands residents (about 200) surviving, in the most part, off coconuts, seafood and collected rainwater.    A supply ship occasionally visits but times and dates are erratic and any fresh produce not grown on the atoll, is a real luxury.   

Raroia is probably best know for the raft, Kon-Tiki which made landfall here in 1947 having sailed from South America with a crew of six, running aground on the shallow reef.  A small monument was erected by locals to honour the men who successfully steered their small raft from Peru to attempt to prove that Polynesians originated from South America, not Asia as was the widely held view. Although the journey was a success, the theory was not accepted and it is still thought that Polynesians have their ancestry connected to Asia, not South America.

There were already five boats in the northern anchorage when we arrived, all well spaced out infront of a long white beach and stretch of tree covered land.  We could see the sandy bottom easily but the bay was scattered with bommies and rocks which we could also see below the surface, with some of the bommies raising to just below the surface.   We needed to make sure we had enough swing room to avoid any shallow patches and rocks, so spent a long time scoping out the area in an attempt to find a large enough space in sand for us to feel confident we would not hit anything submerged.   Eventually we dropped the anchor, attaching fenders to our chain so it floated off the bottom to avoid getting wrapped around under obstruction below the surface.   We had arrived and heaved a huge sigh of relief after an eventful morning.    

The anchorage remained quiet and we enjoyed a few days of relaxing in a beautiful environment, spending time with friends, exploring the narrow strip of land that separates the internal “lake” from the rolling surf of the Pacific Ocean.   Huge crabs scurried from the water and under trees as we crunched our way across a coral beach to reach the northerly exposed coastline of the island.   A wide coral plateau gave the island protection as waves broke further out to sea and then gently rippled across the shallow waters, giving the water colours of blues and green in the afternoon sunshine.   Sadly plastic bottles were scattered along the beach having been washed ashore and left to decompose in the hot sun.   I started to collect them and made a small pile of the jetsam on the beach, but could not remove the rubbish as we had no idea when we would be back in a place where we could dispose of it.   

Curious black tip sharks swam around the boat, only about 1 metre in length, but big enough to keep me out the water for the time being until I could overcome my fear of swimming with them, something I was determined to do, as seeing sharks in the water in the Tuamotus is inevitable, so I had to get over my irrational fear of them!

We spent a few blissful days in quiet isolation, apart from our wonderful community of cruiser friends. When it was time to leave Raroia we went in convoy with two other boats – Traveller and Saoirse – heading out of the pass an hour before slack time with an outgoing tide, being swept out with a 5knot current before being deposited off the sleigh ride in deep water – It felt like a ride on WaterWorld as we saw our speed increase to 11knots at one point!    Sails were raised and we set a course for Fakarava, nearly 200NM due west and one of the largest atolls in The Tuamotus’s.   The wind was blowing 10-12knots from the south east and with a current helping us we made great speed, just keeping pace with the two faster boats as we all enjoyed one of the most memorable, special and magical sails of our trip so far.     We were treated to a beautiful sunset, watching as the sun slowly disappeared over the western horizon while in the east, an incredible moonrise with the full moon lighting up the sky as it appeared over the ocean’s horizon.      The night sail under a full moon and clear skies in flat seas and steady wind was perfect and our speed hardly dropped below 6knots as we seemed to glide over the water, remaining in VHF radio contact with both our other buddy boats.  

The entrance into the north pass of Fakarava is well marked, deep and easy to navigate and we arrived at 3pm while we still had good light and a favourable current sweeping us through the pass.   The anchorage is in the atoll’s main town of Tokelau and is about 5nm from the entrance and is large with lots of space and good hold in sand with the occasional rocks to avoid.   A supply ship is scheduled to come every Wednesday and the anchorage normally fills up on the Tuesday as cruisers try to stock up on fresh vegetables and produce, but it hadn’t arrived the week we were there so supplies were very limited in all the shops.   Eggs are delivered twice a week so we ordered a dozen of the precious items from the boulangerie, which we collected on a Monday along with fresh baguettes which we needed to order the day before as they ran out very quickly!   Fortunately, as our fresh fruit and vegetable stocks were almost gone, the small town had some excellent restaurants and we enjoyed a number of meals out with friends at a variety of places along the beachfront.

Together with our friends, we headed to the Pearl Farm to listen to a free talk which takes place on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays at 10am, giving excellent information on how the pearls are created and farmed.   It is a complicated process over 12-14 months, starting with a “Master” selecting an oyster with the boldest, blackest colour inside their shell.   That oyster is sacrificed and its flesh is grafted into the shells of 20 others along with a “seed” made of mollusk shell from the Mississippi River.  These seeds are implanted into the oyster who will then act as the surrogate host, coating the seed with a shell which matches the colour of the grafted flesh.   The oysters are then returned to the farm for between 12 – 14 months, the time it usually takes for the seed to be coated to create a round black pearl.   Not all the pearls are perfectly round or completely black with many having imperfections or sometimes the seed is not completely coated with pearl.   We were given the opportunity to buy an oyster of our choice and keep the pearl that was extracted, so took our chances and selected a large shell which we hoped housed a happy oyster and black pearl.   It’s not really a great life for an oyster as not only are they implanted with a foreign object which they are forced to coat with the DNA of another oyster that was murdered infront of them, but then they are eaten after giving up the pearl they have been nursing for a number of months! 

We motored south, following a channel that hugged the thin strip of land, to Hirifa – a cluster of houses but no village – on a beautiful sandy beach and a real tropical paradise in clear blue water, dropping the anchor in a magical spot with million dollar 360 degree views of long sandy beaches, turquoise waters and palm trees leaning over the clear water .    There was a fabulous community of cruisers here with children boat hopping and sailors enjoying beach BBQ’s and socializing together plus there was the opportunity to learn to free dive, which Steve eagerly enrolled in together with our friends on Traveller and Saoirse. Steve turned out to be the star pupil, staying underwater much longer than his classmates and enjoying the experience.

The Southern Pass, located a couple of miles from Hirifa, is a world heritage protected area with the most incredible diving and drift snorkelling in pristine coral amongst plenty of colourful fish and lots of sharks.   I was nervous on the first drift, not knowing how I would react when seeing a shark, let alone a big shoal of them, but once I was in the water and able to see the amazing world below the surface, I relaxed and enjoyed the experience of being pulled along by the strong current as lots of black tip sharks swam past us and schools of colourful fish weaved through the coral.   The coral shelf stretched out below us for as far as the eye could see, and groups of sharks swam against the current, heading out of the lagoon not taking any notice of us or the other fish. It was an amazing experience, which we repeated numerous times with friends each time seeing different fish and creatures as we were washed down in the current, gathering speed as we followed the stream around the corner towards our anchorage.   It was a life moment I will never forget – a magical carpet ride over a world below the water! Fakarava was proving to be an incredible place but we had one more atoll to visit before moving on to The Societies and this one will be remembered for quite different reasons!