Travel – HandsOnDeck

The Final Push Home

Imagine this – you are riding a wild bucking bronco, in your beloved home, on a steep incline and you are told to cling onto the saddle for four days, holding your best china in one hand, without breaking anything. Now add to the mix the need to prepare food, wash and perform other duties without falling off the horse! That’s what it felt like for us on the passage to NZ. It all started quite differently……

We left Fiji early in beautiful sunshine with very little wind having prepared three days of meals, completed all the necessary pre-arrival requirements for NZ and carefully stowed things away for the anticipated nine-day passage. Our weather router, John, sent us a synopsis of the weather we could expect for the next couple of days and provided us with lat/long co-ordinates for points we should try to aim for based on the forecast wind direction. Each morning we were to send John our updated position via email, with details of the conditions we were experiencing, and he would then confirm our new waypoint or tell us how we were tracking and what weather we could expect over the next 24hrs. It was a service we were glad to have bought, as John was able to predict windshifts and strength before some of the weather models had updated their data. Also as a fellow sailor who regular sails between Fiji and NZ, John was a great knowledge bank we could draw on.

As soon as we were through the reef which borders Fiji’s main island of Vitu Levu, we were in the wind and heading for the first waypoint. Our friends on SV Diva, Chris and Jenn, were following us but we had no doubt they would soon overtake us in their beautiful 60ft Deerfoot yacht. This proved to be the case as the wind turned as we arrived at our first waypoint 24hrs later and they slid past us making the most of the gentle breeze and flat seas. For the next few days, we remained within 10nm of each other, talking on VHF even when we couldn’t see each other on AIS and it felt comforting knowing another boat was close by if either of us needed help.

Over the first few days we had to motor as the wind was fickle with the constant swell taking any wind that was in the sails and we soon grew tired of the constant banging of the main and jib as it filled and then was emptied again! The weather was still warm, and we took it in turns to keep a watch out for any other boats or dark ominous clouds on the horizon, making the most of any wind that appeared and turning the engine off as quickly as we could. The wind was always in front of us on our port side so, when the wind increased, we had to get used to living on a permanent lean!

Each night we participated in a SSB (Single Side Band) Net run by Gulf Harbour Radio. Patricia and David provide a nightly monitoring and communication service, free of charge, for any boats heading to NZ, Australia or anywhere in the Pacific. They are fellow sailors who love to pass and receive information to help other sailors on passage. It is a fabulous service, run from their home in Gulf Harbour with Patricia offering encouraging comments and taking position reports while David comments on weather. Each night we were able to follow other yachts’ journey and get information from those not far ahead of us regarding the conditions they were experiencing so we could understand what we may expect as we approached their location.

By the fourth day we were starting to head south west towards our third waypoint provided by John in strong winds and short sharp seas. As I look back at the emails I sent and comments on the nightly Net, I was getting increasingly concerned about how far west we were heading. At one point it looked like Australia was a more viable option than NZ as the south east winds continued to batter us. In addition to the winds increasing, the waves were also building as we bashed into them on a continuous seesaw. So now we were not only dealing with healing over, but we were also having to contend with the boat bashing into 3m swell every couple of seconds making the boat, and us, shudder each time we slammed down on a wave. I needn’t tell you how unpleasant and concerning it was as we remembered a number of friends and fellow cruisers who had experienced rig issues recently!

The weather was getting considerably cooler and in the evenings we wrapped up in warm clothes, woolly hat and a blanket to keep watch under dark, moonless skies while the one off watch snuggled under a duvet in our aft cabin. Two of the features we love about Cerulean really came into play on this passage – our lovely cabin in the back of the boat and our deck saloon which meant we could stay warm and dry below when the weather turned for the worse. Having our comfortable bed in the back of the boat meant we slept really well without the noise and bouncing at the front of the boat as Cerulean slammed down on a wave.

On day eight, as if by magic, just as we were approaching the waypoint provided by our weather router, the wind turned more east, so we were able to start turning towards NZ. With the change in wind direction came squalls and we contented with 30knot gusts right on the nose which, believe me, is not pleasant! Steve had been feeling unwell for a few days and had developed a nasty cough and runny nose. He was slowly starting to feel better when we noticed that the two strops that hold the bottom of our jib furler in place, had become loose and there was no alternative but to go forward and repair it. With the boat crashing down on building winds we stopped the boat by heaving-to and letting Cerulean sit side on to the wind with the main sail filled but the jib backed. Steve edged forward and worked stoically under huge pressure and in the worst conditions while feeling unwell. He once again saved the day, and we were soon back sailing again.

The wind started to die at midnight on the eighth day and the calm and quiet of the boat moving through the water at 6knots was fabulous after the craziness of the last few days, however with the drop in wind, the direction had also changed so we were no longer heading east and, if we continued on this course we would now be heading down the west coast of the North Island! However, the wind died a lot faster than we had anticipated so by 4am we were motoring, and this is when the advantage of having an aft cabin is cancelled out! The noise from the engine is loud and trying to sleep with the constant drone of the motor and whirl of the prop is a challenge. Our forward berth was filled with stowed items, so it was currently not an option to decamp to an alternative cabin. We still had just over 200nm to get to Opua and this meant almost two full days of motoring, so our hope now was that, instead of just a few hours earlier when we hoped the wind would abate, we now wanted to have some more wind as we can usually sail faster than motor! To make matters worse, as the sun came up, so did the waves so now the gentle rocking had become more intense as we continued our journey closer to land.

By mid-morning we were sailing again heading south east at a sedate but comfortable speed until the wind died in the late afternoon and on came the iron sail again! We motored throughout the night in a glassy sea, where the millions of stars were reflected in the water we cut through. It was a magical last night at sea after a challenging passage, even if the motor was on.

The wind increased a little during the day but not enough to turn off the engine while still maintaining speed to ensure we arrived in Opua in daylight. We motor sailed, enjoying good speed, and cleared Cape Wiwiki on Purerua Peninsula and passed the historic town of Russell making 7knots under full jib, charging towards Opua in fading light. As we furled the jib and continued motoring towards the dock, we heard a “Whoop Whoop” and cheering from the shore. Steve and I were both surprised and over-joyed to see Steve’s mum and sister, rugged up against the chilly wind, standing on the bank close to the marina, waving furiously as we chugged by on our way to the quarantine dock. Sadly we were unable to hug them as the quarantine dock is separated from the mainland and we had to remain there until check-in formalities were complete, which would start in the morning.

We had arrived. Over 20,000nm under our keel, 37 countries visited and a lifetime of memories created. As we stepped onto New Zealand soil for the first time, a huge sense of achievement and emotion overwhelmed us. This marked the end of an almost four year adventure and we had achieved what we had originally set out to do, but now our future is uncertain except for the certainty that more long distance sailing will continue to be part of our lives with many more adventures to come!

Waiting for a window

After a day of recovery after Lynn and G left, we started preparing for our passage to NZ. One of our sails needed a few repairs, the rig needed to be checked, lines replaced and the boat generally prepared for this long anticipated and, slightly feared, final sail home.

We talked to our weather router and established a possible departure at the end of the week, five days away. We decided to head to Musket Cove, a small island close by with a popular anchorage for yachties, so we could clean underneath the boat and enjoy some down time before the long sail.

Musket Cove on Malolo Island, is only 15nm sail from Denerau, and has a number of resorts, serviced by regular ferries and tourist boats. The large bay has two reefs in the centre which divide the area into three distinctive anchorage areas. In front of the resorts is a busy channel servicing most of the ferries and pleasure activities for the resort guests. A couple of mooring buoys give easy access to the beach and resort facilities, which are normally open for yachties to use. The centre area offers a large anchorage with a short dinghy ride to a good dinghy dock and a popular yachties bar. The third area is a quiet, secluded anchorage close to the big island of Malolo. We chose the centre anchorage as we were, once again, using our small outboard on our dinghy as our bigger, main engine had been out of action since Tonga and we had been unable to get the necessary spare part.

One afternoon I smelt burning while in the boat. It is not unusual, in fact very common, to see fires on the shore and plumes of smoke hanging over the anchorages is a regular event. This smelt like burning plastic and we frantically went around the boat checking wiring ana d cables to make sure it was not a fault on board. Steve went outside and reported it was stronger outside so we assumed the smell was coming from some unseen fire on land. Later I noticed something, I thought bird poo, on one of our solar panels and on investigation found that one of the cells had melted. We immediately disconnected the panel and considered ourselves very lucky that the outcome was not alot worse.

We socialized with other cruisers at a beach bar near the dinghy dock. Being aware little bity things come out in the evening I went hunting for some of my preferred repellent and, while gabbing a tool for Steve, discovered a bottle in his tool cupboard. Thinking it must have been put in there by mistake, I liberally sprayed myself with the repellent and headed out. It was only later that I discovered Steve had re-purposed the bottle and I had sprayed myself with a lubricating oil (not THAT kind…) used to service winches, not wenches! It seemed to keep the bugs away, but our bed sheets may never recover!

We spent a few days, joining a large group of other cruisers, watching the rugby world cup games and cleaning the bottom of the boat while keeping a watchful eye on the weather. Our weather router advised us there was a possible window developing in a couple of days, so we returned to Denerau to provision and make an appointment with customs to check out on the Friday morning. We decided to treat ourselves to a meal out on our last night in Fiji and checked the weather while waiting for our meals to arrive. While the weather looked good for most of the passage, the forecast for our predicted arrival day in NZ looked awful, with the tailwinds from cyclone Lola, an early cyclone expected to hit Vanuatu, mixing with a depression over NZ and causing terrible conditions on our arrival. What was most worrying was the different weather models were agreeing on this forecast and we suddenly became very uneasy about leaving Fiji the next day. We contacted our friends on SV Diva whom we were buddy sailing to NZ with, and together agreed it looked foreboding. In the morning we contacted our weather router who responded quickly telling all boats considering leaving later that day to cancel departure and wait for the next window. I was relieved as the weather on arrival in NZ was my biggest concern and with a forecast this bad, I did not want to risk the boat, or our lives purely because we were eager to start the passage. While the final decision to leave is always ours, we pay for professional advice so have to put a great deal of faith in their more experienced knowledge of the weather.

We returned to Musket Cove to watch the rugby world cup final and continued to monitor the weather from there. As it transpired, the decision to wait was the right one as extremely strong wind battered the north of NZ for two days and we would have been caught in the middle of it all. It was awful watching the progress of a few boats who had decided to continue with their planned departure and were left to face 50knot winds and huge seas as they struggled off the coast of NZ with one boat, who we didn’t know, having to be abandoned with the solo skipper rescued in horrendous conditions.

While waiting for the next opportunity to depart, we explored a few other islands in the Yasawa’s as well as snorkeling a few of the reefs. The clarity of the water was superb, and we had not seen coral as good or healthy, since Bonaire. The reefs were full of fish, and we saw Eagle rays, turtles, squid and lots of colourful fish. One morning we left Mama Island early and anchored on the NE side of a tiny sand bar called Nukuimana Reef. We had the place to ourselves and enjoyed a few hours of snorkeling the beautiful coral in crystal clear water before several tourist boats arrived mid-morning so we pulled anchor and headed to a quiet anchorage on the north of Malolo where we were once again the only boat and were able to continue cleaning our hull.

Another departure window was opening, so we headed back to the mainland, this time returning to Saweni where, unlike the previous time we had anchored here, we were the only boat when we arrived in the early afternoon. We lost no time heading ashore and walked along the railway line towards the port town of Latoka. Here, we made use of the excellent supermarkets and fresh fruit and veg market and stocked up on everything we would need for the next few weeks, intending to do one more fresh shop the day of our departure.

The next day we awoke to a beautiful, windless morning in the bay and once again returned to the beach, this time following the rail track in the other direction, towards Vuda, where there is a big marina and several friends we wanted to catch up with. One particular boat of friends was DanceMe a Belgium boat we had crossed the Atlantic and Pacific with and caught up with in Colombia, Panama and Marquesas. They were on their way from Niue to Tonga when they were dismasted and they had to cut away not only the mast but all their sails and, with enormous damage on the boat, motored the remaining 300nm to Tonga. In Tonga they were helped to build a jury rig (makeshift mast and rigging) and were donated sails and other essential items by fellow cruisers. They then sailed 500nm to Fiji – the closest place where replacements and repairs could be organized – maintaining a speed of around 3.5knots a day. Hans and Lisbeth are the most positive people you can meet and it was lovely to see them again and have the opportunity to see the temporary rig. Losing your mast is any sailors worst nightmare and often ends with abandoning ship, so to hear the story of what happened in the first few minutes after the dismasting was interesting from a learning perspective and based on what they told us, we went out and bought a thicker blade for our grinder, just in case!

Fiji has one of the strictest checking in/out procedures we have encountered and, once the paperwork is completed, insist you immediately return to your boat and leave the country. The weather was still looking ok for a departure on Saturday, although a Monday departure did currently look more favourable, but with past experience telling us that, with Monday a few days away, all that could change and we now had appointments we needed to keep in NZ, we left Denerau in beautiful sunshine one Saturday morning to commence our last passage home. This one is not the longest passage but would be the one that pushes us and Cerulean to our limits and the one we had feared the most.

Fiji – sisters and misters!

Our arrival in Fiji felt like our 3.5yr sailing journey was really coming to an end. With only one more passage to reach New Zealand and the official start of Cyclone season only a matter of weeks away, we knew our time in Fiji would be short. My sister, Lynn and her partner G, had already previously sailed to Fiji in their boat and had a wealth of experience and knowledge we could draw from while spending precious time with my wonderful sibling!

The date of our long anticipated re-union arrived, but the strong winds we had raced to stay ahead of when we left Tonga, were still pounding the south coast of Vanua Levu, making it easier to stay a couple more nights in the marina before venturing out into less protected waters. We spent a day exploring the island by car, venturing down unsealed potholed roads to find waterfalls, rainforest and other hidden treasures. Fiji has a similar problem with Mongoose as NZ has with Possums and we saw plenty of the animals as they ran across the road into the grass verge. They were introduced from Jamaica in 1883 to control a rat problem which was affecting the sugar plantations but, as is often the case when animals are introduced, those creatures become more of a problem, as they have no natural predators but get a taste for some of the native species!

The winds eased a little and, on checking the forecast, realized the weather was not going to allow us to head to the isolated and beautiful Lau Group, as we had hoped, so we decided instead, to head to the northern part of the other main island in Fiji, Viti Levu, which would protect us from the strong southerly winds. Along the way we stopped at a couple of islands, including Makogai – a small island surrounded by a reef with a traditional village hidden in the trees about 7km from where we were anchored.

Makogai was used as a leper colony from 1911 until 1950, accommodating upto 700 patients shipped there from the British colonies of the Pacific, including NZ. Sadly it was a one way trip for the patients and the neglected graveyard we walked through, is testament of the many nationalities that were housed on this small island. In 2016 cyclone Winston destroyed most of the old Leprosarium buildings but the foundations and old walls are now used to house a breeding programme for Giant Clams and we were given a quick tour of the various ponds accommodating different ages/sizes of Clams, some with vivid colours.

Lynn and G had visited the island before and remembered the Chief, so we set off, armed with a small bundle of Kava roots, to present a gift to the village. The ceremony of Savusavu consists of sharing a cup of kava, lots of clapping of hands and listening to the Chief speak. At the end, he thanked us for the gift and for honoring their tradition, saying we could stay as long as we wished and gave us permission to swim, snorkel or roam the island. Sadly, the weather dictated we needed to once again keep ahead of the next front that was approaching, bringing more strong winds from the south, so we headed to the sheltered northern anchorages of Viti Levu, with a surrounding reef protecting us from the rolly seas. As we sailed the well marked channel we put out our fishing line and much to our surprise and delight, caught a beautiful Spanish Mackerel and, with G’s fishing expertise, he and Steve managed to haul it on deck – our first catch of the Pacific and one that fed us for three meals! What a gift!

Now in the shelter of the island, we headed out to explore the Yasawa Group of islands, popular with holidaymakers from Australia and NZ. Most of the islands have resorts, or cater for day trippers, and have been given names to entice those wanting to experience tropical paradise – names like Robinson Crusoe Island, Treasure Island, Survivor Island, Castaway Island and Blue Lagoon. We were now in tourist central, the busiest place we had been since leaving Europe, but it didn’t feel over-run or too commercialized, probably because the local people are just so amazingly friendly and welcoming! Everywhere we went we were met with a loud “Bula!” and cheerful, genuine smile so you couldn’t help but smile back and feel the warmth of their welcome.

We sailed as far north as Drawaqa Island, which is in the middle of the Yasawa Island chain. There is a channel on the northern side of the island where Mantarays pass through as the tide falls. Leaving Steve on the boat to recover from a pulled muscle, Lynn, G and I went in search of Manta’s. Eventually we found one, swimming underneath us as it kept a wary eye on the numerous tourists who had joined us in the water. They are such beautiful, graceful animals gliding with effortless ease as they feed on invisible plankton. Some interesting facts about Mantarays. They are often seen in “trains” where one female is chased by several males in a mating ritual; Female Mantas reach sexual maturity between 8-10yrs old; They give birth to one pup once every 2-3yrs; They don’t lay eggs, but the eggs are kept inside the female for 12-13 months before hatching internally when the female gives birth to a pup.

Lynn and G had booked flights home so, after three wonderful weeks together, we headed to the marina in Denerau for a last night together. G and Steve gave it more of a nudge than Lynn and me, staying up all night talking rubbish and drinking the remains of all our alcohol! It was a perfect send-off to the crazy-adult-kids who left us with heavy hearts and lots of washing up!!!

Now things were going to get real as we started to prepare for our hardest passage to date, our final journey to New Zealand with unpredictable winds and changeable weather conditions during the 1200nm, eight-day passage. Things were starting to get interesting!

Vava’u quick stop. Bula Fiji!

Twelve years ago, just after the first Christchurch earthquake, I chartered a catamaran in Vava’u with seven friends. I remembered it as a very special time and particularly significant as it was the first time I had chartered, or captained, a yacht bigger than 22ft! My return to Vava’u would be the first time since leaving the UK that we were sailing in a location I had previously visited on a boat, so I was excited about going back.

After spending a week on the small, friendly island of Nuiatoputapu, we entered the pass through the protective reef at 10am on a Saturday morning, ready for the 180nm sail to Vava’u, a group of islands to the south of us. The conditions were pretty sketchy with Cerulean slamming into the heavy seas, until we rounded the northern most part of the island and were able to head south. We were once again sailing in the company of Freya and we kept in regular radio contact with Susan and Todd throughout the passage, which turned out to be in perfect weather conditions. After a fast and enjoyable overnight sail, we arrived at the entrance to Vava’u on Sunday morning, dropping the sails as a large whale breached beside us with a now very familiar heavy breathing sound, and headed up the well-marked channel to Neiafu where we picked up a mooring close to the dinghy dock.

The next day we checked in to Vava’u, a quick process as we were already checked into the country. Other boats arriving in Tonga from another country have to first head to a fisherman’s dock near the container terminal, aptly nicknamed the “Dock of Doom” as there is a sunken vessel at one end of the wharf and a shallow patch at the other which need to be avoided on approach. We were thankful we were able to miss out on that adventure, for now!

Very little had changed in Neiafu over the 12yrs since I was last there. It still had the feel of a sleepy town while being the main centre for people living on the surrounding islands. The low level structures along the waterfront were mostly commercial buildings with small houses further up the hillside. A large church, selection of schools and produce market seemed to be the main focus of the town. The cheerful children were dressed in smart school uniform, with the boys wearing a tupenu or sarong, giving us a cheerful “Malo e lelei” as they past us.

Surprisingly, the once bustling charter boat business now comprised of only two boats, both of which were not being used for the period of our stay. Covid had destroyed the charter boat industry and, together with the erratic and unreliable flights from Nukualofa, had made the business untenable. Such a shame, as the area is a beautiful cruising ground, but a bonus for us as it meant the anchorages were empty except for our friends!

The anchorages have been given numbers by previous charter boat companies, and this system of naming them has continued with even locals referring to the number when identifying them on the busy daily cruisers radio Net. We headed out to a nearby bay with our Swedish friend, Tomas who had been joined by his son, Daniel. They picked us up in their dinghy and we headed to Swallow Cave in the early afternoon – the best time to visit to allow the lowering sun to emphasize the blue water while swimming through the tall cave entrance. We waited for tour boats to leave before jumping in the deep water and swimming through bright sun rays as they played with the blue of the clear water.

One afternoon we took a long dinghy ride with Tomas and Daniel to find Mariners Cave, an underwater entrance to a large cave hidden in the cliffs. We had a vague idea where the entrance was, but Steve boldly swam close to the rocks to find it. He found a dark hole about 2m below the surface, so Tomas and Daniel joined Steve in the water to investigate. I stayed on the dinghy as diving into a dark hole through an underwater tunnel into a cave, not knowing how far you had to swim, was way beyond my comfort levels, so left it to the boys to tell me about it afterwards! I watched as first Tomas, then Steve and finally Daniel all duck dived and didn’t reappear for several minutes. I could only assume they had found the way into the cave as I sat watching fruit bats soar above me! Finally they appeared again, all full of excitement and satisfaction at what they had achieved.

We were watching the weather again as we were meeting my sister in Fiji in 10 days time and wanted to make sure we allowed plenty of time to make the two and a half day passage. One afternoon friends on SV Diva told us they were leaving the next day for Fiji as the weather was going to close in by the end of the week. We had arranged to go swimming with whales with a group of friends in two days, so were reluctant to consider leaving before that, but on looking at the weather it started to look clear we would need to leave the next day too otherwise we could be stuck in Tonga for a little while – not a bad thing normally, but when family is visiting, it does become a problem. We talked to our weather router and made the decision to leave that afternoon so spent a busy morning preparing food, us and the boat for the 417nm passage in between friends calling by to say a hurried goodbye. We were told we needed to take the boat to the “dock of doom” close to where immigration has an office in a large warehouse. We aimed for the middle of the dock, putting lots of fenders in place while we rushed to check out, hoping the process would be quick as Cerulean was blown against large black tyres on the dock. The officials were in no hurry and trying to make them increase their speed is futile so we had to practice patience in between Steve running back to check on the boat! It appears the reason they want the boat at the dock is to ensure you leave as soon as the check out procedure is complete and no amount of reasoning, and we heard a number, seems to make any difference! Eventually we were free to go and the warm smiles from the previously sullen officials, made our early impatience seem petty as we headed back to Cerulean and pushed off the dock. SV Diva called us on the radio, surprised to see us joining them as we both exited the pass out of Vava’u together. We were sad to leave but also happy to be starting our last multi-day sail before our final journey to New Zealand.

Leaving Tonga behind us we were keen to get into a rhythm as quickly as possible. This passage was straight forward accept for navigating through a group of small islands about 80nm from our destination in Fiji, Savusavu. We had calculated that, if we averaged 5knots, we would arrive at the first island in the dark and have to navigate our way through the shallows and small islands in very little light. If we could increase our speed and arrive in the late morning, instead of early evening, we would be able to get through the worst of the obstacles in daylight.

The wind was perfect and we set our two headsails, gathering speed as we left behind the shadow of the islands, racing SV Diva as we slowly overtook them. It’s always very satisfying to see how well Cerulean performs when pitched against another, bigger boat. The wind and conditions continued to be excellent and we broke our record for distance covered in a 24hr period, making 170nm on our first day. We were now sure we would make landfall at the islands in daylight and on the morning of the third day we spotted the first island in the Lau group. We would have loved to have stopped here but it is not possible to check into the country in The Lau islands and many boats have been handed heavy penalties for spending a few days exploring before checking in at Savusavu and the thought of a heavy fine was a big incentive to keep going!

On our last night we had to slow the boat down to ensure we arrived in daylight. We rounded the headland close to Savusavu with SV Diva beside us as we sailed up the harbour together.

Our friends on SV Carina, whom we had met in Nuiatoputapu, called on the radio as they spotted us approaching the mooring buoys. They gave us sound advice about the strict immigration process, waiting until we are properly processed before leaving the boat or allowing anyone to visit, warning us that the customs official are very proactive in ensuring boats comply with their process and heavy fines are administered for those who ignore them. We had already completed an extensive 13 page pre-arrival form, complete with photographs of the boat and boat papers, so hoped everything was in order to speed up the process. Four boats, including us, waited for the officials to come on board, using the time to tidy up Cerulean and ourselves! It didn’t take long for customs, health and immigration to visit and, after taping up our honey and garbage (with instructions not to dispose of it until we reached Nadi or Suva, we were given permission to leave the boat. However, our cruising permit would not be available until three working days and, as we had arrived on a Friday, this meant Tuesday would be the earliest we could leave SavuSavu.

We moved into Nawi Island Marina as we had some repairs to organise and needed easy access for the tradespeople. The marina was so new it was still being built. so we were one of just 15 boats able to enjoy the facilities including fabulous showers which were quite luxurious, while waiting for my sister, Lynn, and G to arrive – and boy did we make use of the long showers!! We snorkelled “Split Rock” with friends, feeding the fish stale bread and were amazed by the number of Soldier fish that surrounded us, nipping at our limbs as we quickly fed them! In the evening we ate out, trying many different places including one that came highly recommended by a number of friends, as it was cheap and excellent Indian cuisine. We arrived with friends and quickly ordered from their extensive menu. While we were waiting for the food to arrive a rat ran across the roof rafters over our heads. Sadly it was all over for me after that as I am terrified of rats in any shape or form – alive, dead, squashed or tame! I could not take my eyes off the hole in the roof that the rat had disappeared into, its vial tail making several appearances as I squirmed in my seat, desperate to get out of the place!

Over 34% of Fiji’s population is Indian. A military coup in 2006 removed the democratically elected PM who was of Indian decent. Frank Bainimarama led the coup, which arose due the fear that Fiji could become less “Fijian”, and declared himself PM soon afterwards. He has remained in power ever since, although ‘democratic” elections have taken place they are heavily favoured to the large political parties, making it extremely hard for those of Indian descent to win an election. You get a small sense of the cultural differences when walking around the large produce markets, as the Polynesian Fijians have a very laid back approach to sales, welcoming you with a friendly “Bula!” and warm smile while allowing you to make up your own mind whether you want to buy anything from their stall. In contrast, those of Indian descent are, in general, alot more proactive in ensuring you spend your money with them, often going out of their way to be helpful, while ensuring sales are made with them, or within their community of market stalls.

At last it was time for Lynn and G to arrive. We had added them to our crew list and sent them all the relevant forms so they would not have any issues arriving in Fiji on a one-way ticket. They had spent time sailing in Fiji on their boat pre-covid so we were looking forward to having, not only experienced sailors on board, but family who knew the country and the challenges of navigating in Fiji waters. It was time to start exploring!

Tonga – it’s not all plain sailing!

We had anticipated a fast sail with winds from the ESE and a point of sail that Cerulean enjoys, so left early with Freya a short distance ahead as we motored out of the harbour. The wind stayed light until we rounded the western most point of the island when a beautiful easterly wind welcomed us and we put out our full sails and headed as far east as we could. The conditions were perfect and I enjoyed hand steering for a few hours with a wide grin as we watched the miles melt away and even discussed the possibility of having to slow the boat down if this speed continued. At around sunset we put a reef in the main, followed about an hour later by a second reef as well as a couple in the jib as the wind increased and swung more to the south with building waves. When night fell conditions were worse and the sea had started to build, with waves crashing over the boat as we slammed into the rolling surf. It was a horrible night. I was seasick and we were slowly getting pushed further and further west. As day dawned and conditions continued to deteriorate I suggested we give up on Tonga and head straight for Fiji. Our weather router informed us conditions would remain the same for the next few days so we would be better continuing to our original destination. As the day progressed we realized we were not going to make Niutoputapu in daylight, so we tacked and, as evening fell on our second night, we hove-to under the shadow of Tafahi, a perfectly proportioned island with a triangular shaped mountain rising up from the sea. As we hove-to and stopped the boat, peace and quiet reined down! It was almost magical how we gently rocked, instead of slamming, in the waves and the wind seemed to abate as we very slowly drifted. We took it in turns to sleep and both of us had good solid rests between keeping an eye out for Freya who was doing the same as us a few miles west.

As it started to get light, the sea had calmed and we continued sailing towards Nuiatoputapu which we could see about 7nm away. As we drew close we started to see lots of whales – just the puff of water from when they breathe out, at first and then more of the whale’s body until we saw a pod of about seven heading straight for us. I altered course so we cut infront of them and then changed back to our original track so they continued on their way behind us. All of a sudden one of the humpbacks lept out of the water, twisted onto its side and splashed down sending a cascade of water over us!

The entrance into the harbour is well marked but quite narrow and large rolling waves were breaking on either side of the pass as we entered. Once in though, the waters are protected and sheltered with a large bay where one other boat was already anchored. Shelly and James on SY Carina came over to introduce themselves and let us know about the check in process. Shelly kindly made a phone call to arrange for immigration, health and customs to come at 3pm as well as organizing a sim card to be delivered to us on the dock the following morning. As there is no ATM or means to exchange money, on the island we were asked to offer goods in exchange for the SIM card. Promptly at 3pm we saw a couple of cars pull up on the dock as Steve and Todd headed out in the dinghies to collect the four officials. Apart from one of the health workers, all the visitors were on the large size and helping the three women onto the boat, wearing long black skirts and woven overskirts as they hauled themselves out of the dinghy onto our small stem platform and then climb the steps to get into the boat was an interesting exercise! All the officials were very formal until documents were completed and papers stamped and then they became warm and friendly smiling widely, showing their gold capped teeth. We were asked to pay 200 pa’anga to cover the cost of the health workers visiting the boat, which we reluctantly paid, handing over US$70. As the two officials had done nothing more than get a ride in our dinghy it was quite perplexing what we were actually paying for! Needless to say, we completed the process and were now officially in Tonga.

The next morning we met Shelly and James at the dock and went to meet Tiu who worked for the local mobile phone company, at her house. As we walked along the road, pigs greeted us as they roamed freely each sow having numerous piglets chasing after her as she foraged for food on the beach, in gardens and on the roadside. Thin, unloved dogs also scavenged for food being chased by hoards of painfully thin puppies – it seemed like every female dog we saw had a brood of puppies and we heard that, like the pigs, these often end up on the dinner table, making me very glad I don’t eat meat!

Tiu lived in a home with a cluster of small shacks – one for sleeping in, one for cooking and one for eating in. The dusty yard housed an outhouse and washing line where pandanus were drying in the morning sun. Pandanus are the long leaves used to weave the traditional and formal clothes worn by Tongans, as well as the beautifully woven bowls and mats seen in markets around Tonga. The leaves are cut from plants grown on the island, wrapped in bundles and taken to the beach where they are left in the sea to be bleached for a week. The women then collect them, leave them to dry in the sun before cutting them to size and coiling them into packages to be sold in Nu’kulofa when the supply ship arrives.

Tiu was a happy, hard working woman with two young girls she was raising on her own while her husband worked in Australia on a fruit orchard. She exchanged a SIM card and 10GB of data for some items of food and a few old tee shirts. She was happy with this trade and we were happy to be plugged in to the World again! Tiu drove us to the dock and, on learning they had never been on a boat, invited them to jump in the dinghy and join us on board. The children were very excited about being on board and looked all over the boat, asking lots of questions as they opened doors and cupboards with eyes getting wider as they took in everything!

Later that day the dinghies from the three boats were dispatched to collect our BBQ hosts from the dock. With Madam O in SV Carina’s dinghy, her niece, Fahia perched with Freya in their small wooden tender and Fahia’s 11yr old son, Mal in our dinghy, we headed in convoy for the small uninhabited island close to the reef. We had to negotiate a number of shallows to reach a small beach, haul ourselves and all the food onto the beach and set about finding firewood under instructions from our hosts. With Mal swinging a large machete, Steve was worried about how many limbs he would return with as they collected coconut leaves to weave our plates and food platters. The fire was lit and lobster, crab and sausages loaded on to a grill while Madam O sat weaving a large platter from the fresh coconut leaves in between sipping from a can of beer mixed with rum! It was a lovely afternoon spent in good company with the occasional whale making an appearance on the other side of the reef!

We spent a week on Nuiatoputapu enjoying the company of the very friendly and generous locals. We spent a lovely afternoon at Fahia’s home being taught how to weave and later headed to Tiu’s home to teach her how to make pizza. I shooed the pigs and puppies out of her kitchen and, using the limited ingredients available, showed Tiu and her daughter how to make a simple pizza dough, topping it with anything available! Her only kitchen knife was so blunt the onion was more squashed than cut! I returned to the boat as it was put in the oven – a very old gas one that didn’t seem to get very hot! I left strict instructions to wait until it started to get brown on top, but it appears this was lost in translation as the photos Tiu sent me showed a very undercooked pizza that she shared with family and neighbours, all who seemed to love it and were still alive the next day…! It was a fun experience with various members of Tiu’s large extended family coming to watch. We later prised the blunt kitchen knife out of Tiu’s young daughter’s hand and sharpened it, giving it back to Tiu but fearing we had just left them with another potentially lethal situation!

It was a wonderful week and we felt privileged to have had the experience on this small Tongan island. When it came time to leave Madam O came down to the dock and checked us out of the island while Tiu gave us a large parcel of pandandus we had offered to deliver to her cousin in Neiafu, our next stop. We waved goodbye to Tiu on the dock and pulled up the anchor in the morning, following Freya out of the pass.

Talofa Samoa!

The sail had been a mixed bag of fast and slow sailing, rolly seas, sail changes, sunshine and rain! As we converged on Apia, SY Sonny – a catamaran that left Suwarrow at a similar time – came into view and we made the final approach together, both being instructed to wait outside the entrance to the harbour for an hour while the World Outrigger championships raced in the protected waters of the bay. Eventually we were allowed to enter, giving us refuge from the blustery wind and waves which both dissipated as we entered the sheltered waters of the country’s capital, Apia.

Check-in was quick and easy with officials visiting the boat, drinking most of our orange juice, and guiding us into the very small marina. The officials remained business like and stern until we were checked in and then the veil lifted and they smiled, welcomed us, chatted, drank more juice and reluctantly left! We had been told of boats being refused entry if their departure papers from the previous port did not mention Apia as the next port of call. Fortunately we had amended our papers, changing the next port from Niue to Apia, before departing Suwarrow. The change was made by the Ranger at Suwarrow and I was so concerned this crossed out amendment would not be accepted, I had taken photos of Ranger Harry with the amended document as proof we had not done it ourselves! Fortunately everything was in order and a couple of hours after arriving, we were free to explore.

Samoa consists of two main islands and several small, mostly uninhabited ones. The international dateline runs between American Samoa and Samoa (previously known as Western Samoa) so 23hrs and 65nm separates the two countries! But the main separation came when Samoa was fought over with Germany, UK and USA tussling each other for controlling rights over the country. In 1900 it was agreed that the Eastern part of Samoa would split away to be controlled by USA, and the rest would belong to Germany. During WW1, New Zealand were tasked with performing “a great and urgent imperial service” to seize control of Samoa, which they continued to rule over until 1962 when independence was awarded.

The Scottish author, Robert Louis Stevenson, chose to live in Samoa in 1890 until his death in 1894. We visited the beautiful home he built in lovely grounds above Apia and had an excellent talk describing his life in Samoa and the history of the house since his death. We made a pilgrimage to his grave at the top of a nearby hill which had been his wish and probably final challenge for his understanding wife. The steep hill was covered in forest and had no pathway to the summit so locals lined up and carried the coffin over their heads, passing it from hand to hand in a river of people. Although he only lived in Samoa for four years, he made a lasting impression on the small country and is still revered and respected.

Samoa has some beautiful and impressive waterfalls and we hired a car together with our friends on SY Skyfall, visiting a few of the spectacular cascades, swimming above one before the water tumbled over a high ravine to a deep circular pool far below.

While driving through the countryside we noticed houses with large tombs in their gardens housing parents or loved ones who remain a centre of the family even after death. Mothers are respected, honoured and held in high regard in Samoan culture and, although male and female have definite roles, women are treated well and are usually the leader of the family. Houses have an “Open House” either connected to a home or in the centre of a community of houses. These are buildings without walls that are meeting spaces, a place for people to gather, eat, talk or celebrate. In the evenings you see families gathering to share food and in the day women sit on the floor and weave together. Everywhere we went we were greeted with a cheerful “Talofa” and beautiful welcoming smile, which was normally followed with questions and genuine interest in getting to know us. The people are just wonderful and we really enjoyed stopping to talk and spending time asking questions and answering theirs!

On the northern side of the island is the large To-Sua Ocean Trench, accessed by a long wooden ladder which lowers you 15m into the ground. Climbing onto the ladder is a feat in itself as you need to commit to climbing over a steep cliff onto the first rung and then lower yourself, in my case slowly, to the platform at sea level. I was not overly confident but managed it and was glad I had when we cooled off in the beautiful water at the bottom.

Every morning at 0845hrs the police force march from their central police station in Apia to the Government Buildings to raise the flag at 0900hrs. It was a great spectacle to watch with the police band playing, on this occasion, Waltzing Matilda (don’t ask me why they chose that piece of music!) as the men and women marched in unison through the busy streets.

Just beside the Government Buildings is a Cultural Village with an excellent daily programme demonstrating traditional weaving, cooking and tattooing. We watched a young man getting his torso and legs tattooed, where black dye was tapped into his skin by a sharp stick struck hard by an expert artist. The man had no say in the final design as the tattooist created the young man’s story in traditional designs, starting with his shoulders and continuing to his back, stomach, buttocks and legs, finishing above the knees. The role of a tattooist is one passed down through generations and there are very few Samoans now trained in this specialist skill. The young man being tattooed was supported by family as he lay perfectly still and very quiet during the process, while the tattooist was supported by two young men, possibly his sons, who carefully watched the design taking place and learned from their master. By the time we saw him, the tattoo had already taken four days with another nine until it was complete and, judging by the big bruisers spreading across his body, a number of painful hours lay ahead, all of which he had to endure without making a sound. The process is considered a right of passage to manhood, although less young men are having traditional tattoos due to the cost – thousands of US$ – and time taken.

After a week of sightseeing, socializing, enjoying the fabulous cafes/food and watching the World Outrigger Competition, it was time to go. We cleared out the day before we were leaving as we wanted an early start, paid for the marina and prepared food for the 30hr sail to Niutoputapu, a small island in the north of Tonga and about 170nm sail south. Once again we would be sailing with Freya on the next leg of our journey. Samoa was a lovely surprise. The people, reasonable prices, excellent food and interesting culture made it one of Steve’s favourite destinations in the Pacific to date. Tonga lay ahead of us to the South which is often the direction of the wind, but we were choosing a weather window with more westerly in it – or so we thought!

Suwarrow – An Island to Oneself

The passage from Maupiha’a to Suwarrow was beautiful. We had perfect winds that filled our sails all day and all night. Seas that were gentle and no rain or squalls to deal with on our moonlit night passages. We sailed in the company of Freya who stayed right beside us as we flew our two big jibs, until their spinnaker halyard broke at midnight when they had to scramble to retrieve the waterlogged sail . To start with we were reminded of the heady days of sailing with SY Ruffian where our boats were so perfectly matched we finished beside each other after a multi-day passage. With Freya severely handicapped with one sail down, we pulled ahead and were soon out of radio range as we sped towards Suwarrow.

Suwarrow was, until the 1970’s, named Suvarrov after a Russian ship that “discovered” the atoll in the 1700’s. It lies over 500nm north of Rarotonga and is part of the Northern Cook Islands territory. In the 1950’s a New Zealander named Tom Neale chose to live on the island for six years in complete isolation, cut off from the outside world. His book, An Island to Oneself, has become a South Seas classic as it details the trials and tribulations of his solitary life in this beautiful, wild and unforgiving place. Two rangers now live on Suwarrow for six months and are responsible for looking after the atoll and making sure visiting yachts conform with the strict regulations while in the isolated National Park.

At 1pm, when we were four miles from the entrance into the atoll, we radioed the park ranger to ask permission to enter the pass. Usually this is just a formality so I was very surprised to get a response saying access was denied due to the limit of yachts anchored in the bay being reached. We were asked to wait outside the atoll until the morning when boats would be leaving. This was not welcoming news as we were tired after a four day passage and had been looking forward to our arrival. The wind had dropped to nothing at this point and trying to heave-to with no wind was impossible. We dropped the sails as they were banging in the swell and this made our rolling even worse as we drifted in the windless ocean. By 4pm Freya had joined us and we talked about how we could handle the swell and wait! At 4.30pm the radio burst into life and the ranger informed us a boat leaving so we could now enter the lagoon. Amazingly, and very kindly, our Australian friends on Matilda had heard of our predicament and decided to bring their morning departure forward to the evening to allow us entry into the anchorage. Sadly, this meant we left Freya rolling in the ocean on their own, while we sped towards the atoll and into the flat, calm seas of the lagoon. A dolphin welcomed us as we made our approach, battling 3knots of outgoing current as we tried to avoid large eddies on the way in. As the sun set, we dropped our anchor close to several friends boats, and heaved a very grateful sigh of relief while still feeling guilty about Freya who were rolling around outside the reef.

Suwarrow is everything you would expect an isolated tropical paradise to be. The only way to visit Suwarrow is by private boat, so the privileged few of us are able to enjoy its clear warm waters, thousands of nesting sea birds, beautiful coral and, once again, whales in the lagoon, playfully passing in front of the anchorage. If there was any island you would expect to find Robinson Crusoe, it is here – it meets all the described and imagined personas of a castaway island, it is uncanny, yet here we were taking a few days out of “civilization” to enjoy time in a place that time seems to have forgotten!

Harry and Teina are the current island Rangers, responsible for keeping visiting yachties in check and being the guardians of the National Park. They live on Suwarrow from June to November and are responsible for counting and monitoring seabirds and turtles during egg laying season. They are kind, helpful and modest people, sharing their passion for traditional Cook Island customs as well as their love of nature. The only time we saw them unhelpful was when they felt their position was disrespected when a yachtie didn’t ask permission to enter the pass or ignored their instructions and rules, but once they felt included and respected, their initial officious manner softened.

We were surrounded by friends in the anchorage and between snorkelling sessions, boat hopped as we all soaked in the incredible beauty of the place. I celebrated my 60^th birthday in Suwarrow, surrounded by new friends at a pot luck dinner organised on the beach. We feasted on a variety of food and dishes that, although lacking a lot of fresh vegetables, was a luxury many of us hadn’t experienced for some time!

On the morning of my birthday we collected our friends, Lee and Tamara on SY Athena in our dinghy and headed to the pass – our mission was to find the elusive but documented, manta ray cleaning station which come into the lagoon to get cleaned by wrasse fish which diligently nibble off dry skin and parasites as the rays patiently stay still for long periods – it’s like a day spa for mantarays! We had heard of other cruisers having wonderful experiences close to the pass and, with Lee egging us in his persuasive, adventurous, enthusiastic way, we ventured further and further into the fast flowing waters. At first sight of a ray under the boat, Lee leapt into the water leaving the rest of us glancing at each other wondering if anyone else would follow. Tamara and I lowered ourselves into the fast flowing current and tried to catch up with Lee as he followed the mantaray back into the lagoon. On seeing large grey sharks below us, we again looked at each other and returned to the dinghy. A couple of days earlier a cruiser had been attacked by one of the sharks who took exception to being pushed away and circled around the swimmer, charging at him and biting his ear. Another cruiser came to his rescue and, with blood dripping from his wound, he was hauled into the dinghy. Tamara and I did not fancy a similar interaction so retired to safety! Once out of the current and pass, we all jumped into the water again and waited. Lee was freediving below us when I suddenly saw his movements change and he started frantically swimming in the opposite direction. We all turned, unsure what was behind us, as a large shape came into view swimming fast towards the pass. It was a humpback whale with baby, swimming silently beside us – quite amazing to have such an unexpected close encounter! It turned out not to be the only encounter we would have as, later that day, a humpback, possibly the same one, came into our anchorage and swam around the boats for about 45 minutes. Those lucky enough to have paddleboards had an amazing experience with the whales swimming underneath them numerous times before heading back out to sea.

We had planned to leave the next day for Niue where our good friend, Kim, was joining us. As we prepared to depart, we talked again to our weather router who had warned us of potentially bad weather to the south. We discussed, studied, discussed and decided to follow our weather routers advice and stay north. This was a hard decision to make as it meant letting Kim down and missing out on a place we really wanted to explore with her. Kim was wonderful and, although deeply disappointed, understood our decision – one that later proved to be the right one as we heard of other cruisers who were unable to get ashore during the same period due to high winds.

Instead of heading south, we sailed west and set our course for Apia in Samoa – a place we had not had not intended visiting or researched, so spent the passage learning more about it. We left with a number of other boats heading in the same direction which made for good company at the start of the 500nm passage.

At around midnight on the last evening, we crossed the dateline so we missed out on 15 August all together, another huge milestone reached and significant point in our journey. We were now just one hour time difference from NZ and home felt so much closer.

Maupiha’a – life on an isolated atoll

Spending three months in French Polynesia was a dream. There are not many people who are able to travel as freely as we have in some of the most beautiful and remote places on earth. We know how lucky we have been to have the time to enjoy and explore over ten islands and numerous atolls in our time here, but that doesn’t take away from the feeling that we have only scratched the surface and, in hindsight, I wish we had decided to apply for the longterm visa while in Panama as having that extra time would have made all the difference, exploring more, visiting more atolls and really getting to know each place we visited. French Polynesia covers such a vast area, it is impossible to do it justice in three months! One lasting impression was how wonderful it is to see a region that has not allowed major development to detract from the natural beauty of the place. Big hotel groups are limited to single level chalets – usually built over the water, offering exclusive accommodation to those able to pay US$3000 per night, but we also saw a number of failed operations with chalets being left to decay over the crystal clear waters that once attracted wealthy guests. Towns are kept very traditional with no big stores or multi-national fast food places dominating the landscape. I think the only place we saw a MacDonalds was on Moorea and that was a sad sight to see!

It felt like The Society Islands were not ready to see us go as we made very slow progress in light winds, taking almost all day for Bora Bora to fade out of sight. The wind picked up as the sun sank below low cloud on the horizon in front of us, as we picked up speed and headed west. It turned out to be a lovely sail with flat seas and a beam reach in about 10-15knots of wind – the perfect conditions for Cerulean and us! We were headed to a small atoll, still just in French Polynesia, called Maupiha’a where eight people live, farming copra (coconut). They are completely cut off from civilization, apart from visiting yachts who bring supplies and help where possible. A supply ship comes once a year to ship the cobra to Tahiti for processing, but will only come when there is 14.5 tons to collect. Eight adults work six days a week to cut, collect and dry the cobra and have a satellite phone to call the main administration centre on Maupiti, a small island 100nm east, to request the ship comes to collect. (We later discovered there had been a fallout and one family had been ostracized by the other three couples, meaning only six adults were collecting coconuts and processing them). In the meantime, the eight residents live off fish, coconut crabs, coconuts and fruit and vegetables grown on the island. We had been told they would welcome certain items so had stocked up on flour, sugar, mayonnaise, instant coffee, rice and onions to give to Norma, the Mayor of the island.

The low lying atoll is hard to see and we didn’t get a sight of it until we were about five miles from the most eastern point. As we approached the narrow pass into the atoll, it started to rain, making visibility hard, so we waited for the cloud to clear before attempting the narrow, challenging pass.

With Steve on the bow and talking to me in the headphones, we started our approach, keeping in the middle of two visible white sticks which mark the edge of the reef. Waves broke on either side as we motored through the channel with large eddies trying to pull us to one side of the channel. We increased the revs on the engine as the outgoing current increased at the same intensity as my stress levels! We crawled through the pass at about 3knots, weighing up going faster to have more grip in the water v’s being cautious incase we hit the reef! We made it through and Steve was able to see obstacles below us to guide us into deeper water – a huge relief to be in the calm blue waters of the atoll.

We headed to the north where we could see one other boat anchored and a few houses hidden in the trees. Along the way terns screamed their welcome and brown boobies attempted to land on our pole which we had left out, seemingly believing it would be a perfect perch for them to view unsuspecting fish we disturbed in the water below. It was very amusing watching them attempting to land and, when they won that battle, trying to stay on the slippery pole as they had to continue to fly to stay still – obviously not what they were expecting so soon disappeared with a disgruntled squawk!

The other boat in the bay belonged to Elaine and Crawford from the UK and later, on board their boat, we met Mayor Norma and Harry who were using starlink to call their daughter in Maupiti. It was lovely seeing the delight on their faces to have a rare conversation with family and then receive photographs of grandchildren they have not seen for some time.

The next day was Saturday and, as Seventh Day Adventists, it was their day of rest when they stop harvesting coconuts and preparing copra, so they invited us to visit their home. It felt like they were real life Robinson Crusoe’s as we approached the small tin shack they call home, with internal walls of mesh hung from rafters, decorated with shells. The kitchen is outside with the sink and workbench facing the blue clear water of the lagoon – a view that would be hard to beat anywhere!

Harry guided us through the coconut trees to the other side of the narrow stretch of land they live on, to the wild windward side where the deep ocean crashes on a small reef and coral beaches. The sound of the sea moving washed up coral was only drowned out by the screech of hundreds of Sooty Terns that had been disturbed by our appearance. The Terns spend most of their lives at sea, returning to land only to breed and lay their eggs on the ground, sometimes not bothering to attempt to make a nest while others had gone to great efforts. Eggs and chicks were scattered everywhere so we picked our path carefully as we followed Harry along the beach. It felt like we were in a scene from a horror movie as birds filled the sky above us, screaming at us as we moved through their nesting area. I was relieved when we left them in peace to raise their chicks, chicks that when full grown would return to land in a few years – it was an unforgettable experience. One Harry does most days as he collects their unfertilized eggs as part of their regular diet – if placed in water, fertilized eggs will sink. They explained that a dog killed all their chickens so now Tern eggs are the only kind they eat. I mentally added eggs to the list of provisions I would give them!

Returning to the house, Norma showed us a huge coconut crab they have been fattening up for the last three weeks. The underbelly was blue with a sac Norma excitedly called Froie Gras so must be a huge delicacy. Later we returned to Norma and Harry’s for dinner with fellow cruisers, Elaine and Crawford. Norma had decorated the table in her house with beautiful flowers and proudly welcomed us into her home as we sat down at a table ladened with food – some we had brought, but most included ingredients foraged from the environment we were in. The coconut crab we had met earlier took pride of place on the table as it easily fed six of us, cooked in coconut milk and spices which was delicious. After clearing the remains of the crab off the table, Norma took the lid off a large pan with a flourish and proudly presented us with a whole lobster each. It was delicious and we felt very honoured to have been invited, not only to share the wonderful food, but to be in such a stunning location as we watched the sun go down over the lagoon.

There is a tenuous link to my home town of Lyttelton on this small atoll. There is a wreck on the outside of the reef of notorious German first WW warship Seeadler that ran aground in 1917, captained by the colourful Count Felix von Lucknor, who was later imprisoned on Ripapa Island in Lyttelton Harbour. He has an amazing story which is too long and unbelievable to write about here, but worth reading about – why has no movie been made about this man? He was the real German equivalent of Hornblower!

We decided to extend our stay for a few days as our friends on SY Freya were arriving and the winds looked quite light – it was not a hard decision to make! On our last full day a humpback whale came into the lagoon and entertained us for a while. As night fell we heard the now familiar sound of a whale surfacing close by and the black shape of a large mammal in the calm water behind the boat. It was a wonderful final gift from this magical atoll!

A full moon sank in the clear morning sky and, as we watched the sun rise, we pulled up anchor before heading towards the pass with SY Freya. We waved to Harry and Norma as they stood on the beach watching the last two boats in the anchorage leave. Now they would be on their own again until the next adventurous cruisers arrived, hopefully bringing more supplies and speaking better French than any of us! This was a perfect farewell to The Societies as we headed out to our next destination, an even more remote uninhabited atoll 600nm NW in the middle of the Pacific!

High Society

We left Fakarava and headed to another atoll, Faaite, 15nm to the south with our NZ friends on Te Kinga. There was no wind and the sea was flat calm as we motor sailed towards the low lying atoll, entering the narrow pass on slack tide. Numerous small fishing boats created a slalom course for us as we approached the entrance, forcing us to slow down and admire the crystal clear water as we glided over healthy looking coral close to the land. We negotiated the entrance, meandering round boomies into an anchorage close to the small main town of Hitianau, except it really wasn’t an anchorage due to the shallow patches and boomies everywhere not giving us enough room to swing a cat, let alone a 43ft boat! Together with Te Kinga we circled around the bay numerous times, trying to find a clear patch of sand, big enough to drop our anchor and for us to circle around it without hitting anything under the water. Eventually we found a patch we hoped we suffice, dropped the anchor and floated all our chain so only 10m was on the bottom, the remaining 30m was floated using our fenders but fortunately no wind was forecast so we felt confident we would be fine.

The settlement of Hitianau has a checkered and interesting recent history. In 1987 a cult moved on to the atoll with the religious leader convincing locals that the devil was amongst them, resulting in six deaths when members of the community were burned alive by being thrown into a fire. The next time the atoll was thrown into the spotlight was a few years later when a yacht ladened with cocaine ran aground on the reef. Police were informed when a fire started on board and over half a ton of drugs were discovered, believing that more had been lost in the fire. In a scenario similar to Whiskey Galore, it was later discovered that locals had raided the boat and hidden the drugs. It only became apparent when the Mayor noticed a number of locals acting strangely and called in the police from Tahiti to investigate, resulting in the discovery that a number of the 250 residents were addicted to cocaine.

Walking around the sleepy town today, it is hard to imagine its colourful past. People mostly use tricycles as their main mode of transport, everyone smiles and greets you in passing, neat houses line the dusty roads and fishermen take their small boats out to catch just enough fish for the locals to eat. On the day we arrived the supply ship was in, so we joined a small line of locals on the dock and bought fresh fruit and vegetables from the boxes displayed by the ships crew. We even bought fresh eggs which was a bonus as we were fast learning to buy them whenever we saw them! We ordered fresh baguettes to collect the next day and were invited into a local home by a father and son who proudly showed us around there waterfront property. In exchange, we gave them the fishing line we had collected when crossing the Pacific and were very happy it was going to good use!

The weather forecast showed some significant wind and building seas were coming, so we decided to leave with Te Kinga and head back to Fakarava for a few nights. We had originally intended to stay another night and leave for Tahiti from Faaite but with seas building it meant the pass could become treacherous. As it was, we left with the outgoing tide and were swept through the pass at speed, waving to the fishermen at the entrance as we were carried past them. On the passage back Te Kinga caught a couple of tuna which they generously shared with us, donating a large steak which fed us for four meals!

Tahiti was calling us, so we reluctantly left The Tuamotu’s ahead of a front bringing strong winds and enjoyed a 36hr passage, arriving in Tahiti mid morning. My son, Jak and his wife Juliette, were due to arrive in a few days, so after doing laundry, a big shop at Carrefour and mandatory clean, tidy and sort of the boat, we moved into Papeete Marina. The marina operates on a first-in-first-served basis so securing a berth feels like winning lottery, particularly when you listen to others hard-luck stories and pleas for a space. We were lucky as our friends on Freya were leaving and we arranged a smooth exchange which, even though we did this with military co-ordination, another boat waiting in the wings almost tried to swoop into the berth ahead of us!

The marina is located in the centre of the biggest city in The Society Islands so getting fresh produce, doing laundry and preparing for Jak and Ju’s arrival was easy. While we waited I was invited by our friends on Cygnus Cygnus to attend Heiva, an annual festival of Polynesian Culture and we enjoyed a night of traditional dance and music with mesmorising drumming, fast knee knocking by the men and impressive bottom wiggling by the women.

While in Papeete we caught up with lots of friends. On one occasion we were meeting an Aussie/Irish contingent for lunch in a restaurant and were hidden away upstairs catching up on a couple of months news. On coming up for air, we noticed that a group of other friends were sitting at another table having lunch and we called them over. You know when you are with fellow cruisers when one of the friends walks over is carrying a bucket and, on noticing this, one of the Irish/Aussies says, “That’s a really nice bucket…”! I wonder what we will consider important in the real world!

Jak and Ju’s much anticipated arrival happened at 5am one morning, just as it was starting to get light, and I ran into their warm embraces with huge excitement much to the amusement of the marina security guard who was alerted by my squeals of delight! As we were having breakfast on deck a friendly turtle popped up beside the boat followed by a pod of dolphins that joined in the celebrations as we were leaving the harbour later that day! A great start to their visit with levels of excitement high which would continue for the duration of their two weeks stay with us. Together we explored Moorea where we swam with sharks and stingrays, went on long dinghy rides, explored some of the inland region, snorkeled in clear waters and introduced Jak and Ju to some of our friends. We did an overnight sail to Huahine in conditions that were far from the perfect seastate I was hoping for with Ju, always cheerful and positive, incapacitated with seasickness, only emerging from her uncomfortable looking cocoon curled up on the saloon seating, once we were safely in the blue protected waters behind the island. We hired bikes and circumnavigated Huahine, pushing the old one-speed bikes up the one steep hill on the island – Jak breaking his bike as he tried to pedal up the sharpest incline! We watched blue-eyed eels as they stared back at us in a shallow river, were mesmorised by brightly coloured fish from a dock and marvelled at the shades of blue in the bay. We sailed down to the most southerly bay and watched an octopus change colour to match the coral around it, spending a very windy night on a mooring buoy which we had raced to pick up ahead of another boat I was convinced would try to beat us to it, only to discover they had picked up a much better mooring further inland!

On we sailed to Taha’a, inside a large reef it shared with its neighbour, Raiatea. We enjoyed sundowners watching beautiful sunsets over nearby Bora Bora, drift snorkelled the Coral Garden, tasted local rum at the nearby distillery, listened to a local band play with local women joining in the dancing, visited a pearl farm and a vanilla plantation with processing plant, celebrated Bastille Day by visiting a festival in a small village, played games and laughed together. Finally, we sailed to Bora Bora – a place I had wanted to visit since the early 1980’s when I watched a TV show called Tales of the Gold Monkey set, apparently in Bora Bora and I was mesmorised by its beautiful scenery and handsome lead! When researching for this blog I discovered it was actually set in Bora Gora – wherever that is – and I must’ve been hearing the place wrong!!! Well, it made me look up Bora Bora, stick a pin in my imaginary map of the globe and dream of the exotic location! Now we were sailing there, and I couldn’t have been more excited. As we rounded the south westerly corner of the reef, Bora Bora presented itself in all its beauty and travel brochure glory! The emerald blue waters set against a dramatic crater rim of an extinct tall volcano was breathtaking.

We met up with Tomas and Corine who guided us through narrow channels to a stunning anchorage in Baie Tehou. We took the dinghies towards the reef and stood chest deep in water as numerous black tipped sharks and huge stingrays circled around us. In the evening we had sharks around our boat and we swam in the clear warm waters, soaking up the extraordinary sights and experiences of this truly magical island. Tomas’s friend, Corine, was leaving the next day so the six of us went into Vaitape, the main town, to explore and have lunch. There is very little in the town, which shows that even with the many luxury resorts on the island, very little of that money spills over into the local economy – yes, there are jobs for the locals, but most of those are menial with the majority of the well paid jobs going to French or other nationalities.

Having said that, The Societies have not been spoiled by large, ugly hotels. Most of the buildings we saw were single, or at most, two storied buildings which were built to fit in with the landscape although did restrict access to some beautiful parts of the lagoon. It is not possible to fully circumnavigate the island as the far south is not navigable, so we meandered our way to around the island and stayed in the south east corner, visiting a French Canadian who had established a Coconut Factory. It was really just a small shack where he lived with his local wife and two gorgeous young children and operated a press to extract oil from coconuts grown on Bora Bora. He added essence of other plants to the oil to make medicinal cures for burns, bites and increase energy levels. His property stretched the width of the motu from blue lagoon to the battered windward side and he allowed us to explore, walking through his tendered garden and tall trees to the thunderous waves on the Pacific side. We collected shells, watched crabs, waded in a huge rock pool where sharks hunted the trapped fish and coral broke the surface of the water.

All too soon we were preparing for Jak and Ju to leave us. It had been a wonderful, memorable and fun time together, laughing, exploring, playing games, doing quizzes, talking and sailing. We needed to get fuel so suggested we drop them at the fuel dock for an easy walk into Vaitape where they could catch a free ferry to the airport – the only way to access the airport is by water. Our attempts to get fuel turned into an unhappy series of events as the cashiers would only allow us to use our tax free certificate if we provided copies of the certificate, boat papers and entry permits. They didn’t have a photocopier, would not accept electronic copies and didn’t know of anywhere who would copy them, so we left without filling our tanks! That’ll show them! It was not the final goodbye I had pictured for Jak and Ju but at least they were able to have an unfiltered insight into the trials and tribulations of cruising life!

We waved to Jak and Ju as we motored away from the dock and headed out the pass, back into the rolly, unprotected waters of the Pacific Ocean. We were headed for Raiatea as we had an appointment with a tradesman who could try and discover what was wrong with our steering as I was very concerned about a grating sound that occasionally caused the wheel to jerk. We had unsuccessfully and frustratingly been trying to find the source to no avail and now needed to urgently have the steering assessed to see if it was safe to continue to New Zealand. So a few days later we had a shipwright named Fred scratching his head too, trying to find the source of the problem, resulting in us getting hauled out the next day to check the integrity of our rudder. We only just fit in the slipway where three men dived into the clear water and positioned slings under Cerulean. As we were lifted we were pleasantly surprised by how clean Ceruleans bottom was – Steve had done a great job keeping the growth off and while we could we scraped barnacles and weed off the harder to reach places, cleaned the propeller and shaft and checked the anodes – all looking good! The rudder was jiggled and wiggled hard, resulting in the noise becoming apparent, thankfully not from the rudder but, after a thorough check, found the offender to be our autohelm! We were happy to have found the culprit – an easy fix – and hugely relieved there was nothing wrong with our steering, in fact the opposite as it was given a big thumbs up as being in perfect condition! Our time in French Polynesia was coming to an end. We were given 90 days in the country when we arrived in The Marquesas and were told the only way to stay longer was to apply for a longstay visa prior to arriving in French Polynesia. As it turns out, getting an extension is easier than we believed, all you have to do is tell the Gendarmerie you have a problem with your boat and it will take a couple of months for the parts to arrive – bingo! Although we had all the supporting proof that we had an issue with the boat, we decided we would not ask for an extension as time was ticking and there were still lots of other exotic islands to visit.

We filled with fuel, reprovisioned and started the long process of checking out. French Polynesia has a quite antiquated check in/out procedure. We were told that, after checking in at The Marquesas, we had to complete the process once we arrived in Tahiti, which we duly did and were emailed a form as proof of this. We were then advised we needed to seek permission if we were leaving Tahiti/Moorea to go to the outer islands and intended checking out of those islands, which we also did and were sent confirmation back. We stayed the night in Raiatea’s main town of Uturoa on the town dock in the town centre, ignoring the advice we were given on arrival that we had to leave by 4.30pm, as we had been told we were allowed to spend one night there for free. On Saturday morning we headed to the gendarmerie, completed numerous forms and were asked to return on Tuesday to collect our zarpe – no one asked for the other forms we had been given in Papeete.

We decided to spend a few days exploring Raiatea and headed towards The Botanical Gardens which are located down a meandering river edged with palm trees. After walking through the gardens we crossed to the other side of the river and met Andre, a local man who has been creating a large fruit and vegetable garden on land he leases at a peppercorn rent from the government for the last 35 years. He has created a fabulous food basket, offering his hard won bounty to anyone who shows an interest in his garden. We came away with bananas, beans, ginger, turmeric, pumpkin and plenty of exotic fruit which Andre encouraged us to try. We gave him a donation which he accepted with a smile but he often feeds people who are unable to give money.

We received an email on Monday telling us our exit papers were ready so on Tuesday we returned to the town dock and completed our check out with the gendarmerie. It was quick and easy with them stamping our passports and presenting us with our zarpe. We were now officially checked out of French Polynesia and ready to sail west for the next leg of our journey back to New Zealand. We had been lucky enough to spend three months exploring French Polynesia. Every place we visited had its own special feel and memorable moments. To share these places with friends and family made them all the more incredible and as we sailed away from The Society Islands, we felt a mixture of sadness and excitement. Sadness as we would have loved to have spent more time in these beautiful (but expensive) islands, but excitement at the adventures that still lay ahead of us.

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!