Maupiti & Maupihaa : A fine farewell to Fabulous French Polynesia. 

8th – 20th September 2018.

Maupiti : The Up’s and the Down’s

Lying roughly 30 miles northwest of Bora Bora, Maupiti is one of  the western-most islands of the Society group. As we sailed away from postcard perfect Bora, the island disappeared behind us, engulfed in a sheet of light rain. With a total lack of wind we had no choice but to engage the iron sails and soldier on to the monotonous thump of our engines.

Arriving at the Pass Onolau on the southeast side of Maupiti, it was just as we imagined it would be. The southeast swell was rolling in creating a lumpy and confused sea with standing waves and white crested breakers. A formidable sight for the uninitiated.

The lagoon water is in a continuous state of ebb reaching speeds of 9 knots as it rushes towards the narrow pass.  Liam did a sterling job driving the boat in through the doglegged entrance and within minutes we were inside the calm turquoise waters of the lagoon.

        

Standing like a sentinel on centre stage was lofty Mt Teurufaatiu which was just begging to be climbed, but not today for we weary travelers. We motored up to the village, plopped the anchor down across from the church and settled in for the evening, listening to the harmonies of the late afternoon choir practice. Thinking it might be nice to have a meal ashore, Liam did some recon only to be told that despite what our guide book said, the restaurant was closed until Monday at 12pm. So it was back to the galley for you know who.

Next morning we motored down to the reef anchorage on the south corner where the water was much, much clearer. Our Italian friends from Y2K and Obiwan were already there and we’d planned a snorkel safari with them to swim with the manta rays. These majestic creatures  show up like clockwork each morning between eight and ten.

 

                       

 

They line up in an orderly fashion  to have their wings and mouths cleaned of parasites by the tiny fish that inhabit the coral bommies in this part of the lagoon. It’s a bit like going to to the dentist to have your teeth cleaned, though I suspect way less painful.

During the process the mantas swim in slow circles, mouths wide open as the cleaning detail do their stuff. As soon as they are done the rays close their mouths and off they go back out  through the pass to the deep waters of the south pacific.

Next morning we all set off early in the dinghies back up to the village to tackle the mountain before the heat of the day set in. 

Only four of our party of eight reached the summit. It was  definitely no walk in the park and way harder than in looked. Having to scale up over rough terrain and slippery rocks stopped four of us at the halfway point and that was just fine for us. Sweaty, panting, ashen faced person after person descended the trail past us  each saying it was a real feat of endurance to make it to the top. Apparently the last 30 minutes was hand over hand pulling yourself up the escarpment using ropes to reach the summit.  I’m proud to say that Liam made it, though he  looked as though I should have been dialing for an ambulance by the time he got back to us.

 

A delicious lunch at snack Tariona on the waterfront was just the ticket after the hike, even for those of us who only managed the halfway point.

With our possy of five boats getting ready to depart the following day, the next morning was spent topping up fuel tanks, chasing non existent wi-fi and gathering plentiful fruits from the ever so friendly locals whose trees were dripping with ripe mangos and pamlemoose.

Maupihaa : Where everyone knows your name

Departing Maupiti was a piece of cake, no big rollers like there were on our arrival. At a distance of 100 miles further west  the atoll of Mauihaa  lay. This small  low atoll has the reputation of having a very narrow  pass into the lagoon if the swell is up. We most definitely had our fingers and toes crossed  that this would not be the case when we arrived.

Within ten minutes of exiting Maupiti  we’d hoisted the mainsail and our spinnaker had set nicely out the front, pulling GWTW towards her next destination.  All looked good as we ghosted along in light air. Then the inevitable happened. The wind got lighter and lighter, so down came our pretty spinnaker. With the wind dying to nothing before our eyes the mainsail started to flap and one of the batons which runs horizontally across the width of the sail to give it shape, popped out from it’s pocket. So down came the mainsail  and on went the motor. For the next 96 miles the only sound  we heard was the thumping of our yanmar diesel. We were in company of six other boats and we were all motoring, The wind gods had well and truly deserted our little fleet.

We arrived at the pass at 10am and yes, at a mere 60 ft wide, it was very narrow but the edges of the reef were clearly defined, all we had to do was stay in the middle and we’d be OK. The current through this pass is constantly ebbing  at a rate of up to 6 knots but with two engines and flat seas it was easy to navigate.

Once inside the waters of the lagoon were flat, flat, flat and what a joy it was to turn off the engine! Peace and quiet at last. Very few cruisers stop here, but it is definitely worth a visit. The atoll was devastated by a direct hit from a cyclone in the late ‘90’s and many of the villagers moved away. Now only four families are left comprising of a whooping sixteen people many of whom are related.

Most cruising boats that call into  Maupiti, our previous stop, are usually asked by the locals if they would be willing to take either supplies or human cargo or both to the families who still reside there as the atoll only gets a supply ship  visiting every 6-8 months, and that is very weather dependent. Four of our little fleet were asked and of course obliged.

In return for the generosity from the cruisers the families put on a dinner ashore. For us it was a lavish banquet of BBQ-ed  reef fish, tuna pate, coconut crabs, poission cru and fresh lobster, We cruisers brought side dishes  and deserts to complement the meal. It is a wonderful experience meeting this isolated community who make us all feel so welcome and love to laugh and  socialize with people other than their own families.

         

After a few days in the north anchorage we made the move to the south east corner of the lagoon for better protection from some forecast strong winds coming our way. It was a perfect anchorage in 10ft with a sand bottom, palm trees ashore, sandy beaches and clear waters.

One afternoon we had a great beach BBQ of parrot fish kebabs and fresh damper bread cooked over coals, with new found friends aboard the NZ cat Chaos, their two kids and adopted Red Beaked Tropic bird named Bob.

They had rescued Bob from the sea and certain death some two months prior.

He was just a baby who’d fell from his cliff face nest and still could not fly or feed himself. Everyday the kids would cast a net and catch small fish for him and they took him on regular outings in the dinghy and on the paddleboard hoping he would soon be strong enough to spread his wings. To date Bob is still on board.

On another excursion ashore I met Edward who was lying in a hammock reading a book . Edward  spoke perfect english and has lived alone in his one room house for sixteen years. We sat and chatted under the trees a while and he cut down a fresh coconut for me to drink.

He then showed me a large coconut crab he had caught the evening before. It was a beauty. As I was leaving he asked if I’d like it and said that  if I came back at 5pm he’d have it cooked up for me. I offered to pay him for his trouble but he insisted that it was a gift for just taking the time to sit and talk. As I left I noticed an empty box of low priced red wine on his fire heap and made a mental note of that for later. Liam and I both went back to  collect the crab and gave him a much nicer bottle of red wine. His face and eyes lit up and he thanked us profusely as we said our goodbyes.

Tomorrow we’ll be leaving for Palmerston in the Cook Islands, a run of 540 miles and three nights at sea. and crab cakes will definitely be on the menu.

We have absolutely enjoyed our time in French Polynesia and it is sad to leave.The generosity of the people and the places we’ve visited in this far flung isolated country have all been special and will have a place in our hearts forever.

All good things come to an end sometime and new adventures and destinations lay ahead. It’s time to move on.

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Breathtakingly Beautiful Bora Bora

27th August – 8th September 2018

Our trip over from Raiatea to Bora Bora was most definitely not one of our best, the trip itself just was fine but the trifector of failures wasn’t an upside by any means.

The conditions were such that we decided tp roll out our big reaching sail, the screecher. Having just spent over US$500  on “in the nick of time“ repairs to it while in Tahiti we figured we’d give it a go. All was looking rosy as our boat speed slowly increased and GWTW took the bit between her teeth and headed for the iconic island of Bora Bora. We were settling into a nice rhythm when a strange sound filled the air. Confused at first as to what it was, I lifted my gaze forward and upward and there  was the culprit. The head of our screecher was systematically delaminating and becoming threadbare.

Daylight shone through where once was mylar fabric. The repairs had held up ok,  the failure was near the head of the sail, quite a surprise. So sadly, it was money down the drain on the repairs. Now the challenge was to furl it before what was left totally separated from the furling foil. Slowly but surely we got it furled though it did look a bit like a dog’s breakfast by the time we’d finished. With the wind increasing we had no choice but to sort the mess out once we arrived.

Next up Jimmy our raymarine chart plotter, (named after the great navigator James Cook), decided that after 14 years he was done with navigating and called it quits right there and then. Obviously Jimmy was in cahoots with our screecher of the same age. Just as well we’d bought a backup plotter before we left the USA, just in case. With only a few miles left ‘till we got to Bora, the replacement would be getting plugged in tomorrow. We still had our iPads to use for navigation, so no worries there.

Our third and final strike in this ballgame happened when the fisherman of our crew, who will of course remain nameless but not blameless, very uncharacteristically  decided to leave the port side trolling line out while coming in through the pass in the hope of snagging a suicidal fish. Well there was no trophy fish for dinner, however he did manage to catch and strangle our port side propeller while we were backing down to set the anchor. Trying to reverse a cat using one engine is almost futile as the boat wants to rotate in a circle. So we ran out a heap more chain and left well enough alone while we regrouped to assess the situation.

It was most definitely time for a gin & tonic. What a cluster f **k of a day we’d had. Oh, and “welcome to Bora Bora”, the god of mishaps must have been saying to himself.

       

With the onset of a Maraamu (the prevailing south-east trade winds on steroids) due tomorrow afternoon we had to extract the digit and sort out a few things. The major one was getting the fishing line untangled from the prop shaft so we’d have a useable port engine. This turned out to be a far from simple exercise. As the line had wrapped around the shaft and tightened, it actually pulled the shaft back and along with it our engine which moved backwards round 1/4 of an inch or so, quite minor but still noticeable when the engine mounts were inspected. A similar thing happened in Cuba with a mooring line and actually destroyed the engine mounts while moving the engine some distance aft.

After more than an hour of tedious, tiring work in the water, pretty much all of the fishing line was removed. It was frustrating but essential work. The port engine remains a little out of position but no real drama, and can likely be rectified when we next haul the boat. There is now an absolute ban on trolling inbound through any pass anywhere. Installing the spare plotter and tidying up the screecher to a respectable look were a piece of cake compared to the underwater problem.

Well the Maraamu blew like the clappers for the next seven days and nights and us along with everyone on a boat in Bora hunkered down. For us it was just a pain in the arse,  but we really felt for the folks on the charter boats whose schedule just doesn’t allow them the luxury to sit it out for a few days. We watched many of them take to sea in the midst of the high winds and the accompanying ugly seas of up to eight feet as they battled to get back  to their charter base in Raiatea. As much as we’d have rather been getting on with  exploring what was on offer we filled in our time rather well. Menial chores which never make it to the top of the list were attended to and with a warp speed internet signal beaming into  GWTW courtesy of the Hilton Hotel, researching and  booking marinas and flights for while we’ll be in NZ at the close of this year’s cruising season was an absolute breeze.

Finally the wind stopped and the beautiful lagoon returned to how it looks in the brochure, perfect that is. So we headed around to the mooring balls outside Bora’s famous restaurant, Bloody Mary’s.

  

The list of rock, pop and movie stars who have lingered over a drink at the bar or a meal here is quite outstanding. Think of anyone in “the business” and their name is likely etched into the board of fame at the entrance. Having been boat-bound for an entire week we ‘d planned on a night out  of dinner and drinks but some well heeled person had booked out the whole place, bar included for seventy of his closest friends, bummer for us.

Disheartened at our poor timing and with dinner plans now out the window, we hiked up to the signal station on the hill above the anchorage. Talk about  mind blowing views over the lagoon, there aren’t enough superlatives to describe what our eyes could see.

   

That scene will be etched into our memories forever. We did get to experience BM’s the following day when we stopped in for a few signature drinks, a Bloody Mary of course and lunch. Would our names end up with the rich and famous too? Probably not.

After a quick stop in the main town of Vaitape  for some much needed fruit, as well as a visit to the Gendarmerie to lodge our exit  documentation for our imminent departure from French Polynesia, it was time to have a gander at the east side of the lagoon.

It’s on this side of Bora that  paddock after paddock of overwater bungalows stretch out over the picture-perfect turquoise waters like tentacles of an octopus. Here you can check-in to any of the brand name hotels, the Four Seasons, Le Meridian, Intercontinental, Sofitel etc. Or if your credit card doesn’t self combust spend a few nights at the home-away-from home for the super rich and super famous, The St Regis Resort. It will only set you back a many thousands of dollars per night, but hey whose counting? 

          

So we decided to check out what all those bucks got you and anchored right in the tranquil lagoon behind the St Regis, meters away from these absurd costing bungalows. We didn’t get the to sample the culinary delights or the spa and massage,  but we did swim in the same waters as the mega rich, had the same romantic views, listened to the same annoying sound of jet skies zooming pasts and quite possibly drank the same French wines. The same stars twinkled above us and as the sun rose next morning we treated to the same view  as the people with deep pockets over towering Mt Otemanu.

The cost for us for the identical surrounds that these people pay through the nose for was absolutely nothing. A little while later we jumped into the dinghy and went in search of the manta rays which reportedly show up early morning in a shallow channel not far from the hotel, but alas no mantas today. So off we motored to the southeast corner of Bora and anchored in the clearest pale blue water we’ve ever dropped the hook in.

Pure white sand sat just two feet under our keels. It was really something. Another dinghy trip to see eagle rays was again fruitless so we headed over to a small motu to investigate the coral gardens. At last success. There were hundreds of fish of all sizes. The small ones were not shy and it was a right in your face experience.

    

  

Everything comes to and eventually and so too has our time here in Bora. There looked to be a good weather window approaching over the next couple of weeks so our minds were now turning towards the next few legs across the Pacific. It was Friday afternoon and we needed to get back around to town to have our passports stamped and pick up our clearance papers from the Gendarmes. Sadly, this will mark the end of our eleven month stay in this wonderful country.

Our final evening was spent back at Bloody Mary’s enjoying  a few exotic Happy hour cocktails and a few plates of delicious bar food.

With papers in hand officially we are no longer in French Polynesia. Unofficially, if the conditions are right, we will call in at two more islands, Maupiti and Mopelia.

They will be our final stops in French Polynesia before heading to new destinations as we sail west into the setting sun.  

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Raiatea & Taha’a

15th - 26th August 2018.

It was a straight shot  under motor across the windless calm sea from Huahine to Raiatea’s Iriiru Pass. As we entered the pass the local outrigger boys were waiting in the wings and started paddling their sleek racing outriggers towards our stern. We knew the drill. We’ve played it many times. These fellas like to push themselves to their limit paddling in our wake for as long as they can keep up. Sometimes we have one paddler but being a cat we often have two, one for each transom. It’s sort of unofficial training for competitions and we see it happening everywhere. They get a very good workout and if they look like they are doing it easy we ease the throttles forward just a smidge. Even so, they still follow until they drop their oar on their lap and can go no more.

In the fading afternoon light we headed straight for Vairami Bay and dropped the hook in 32 feet of thick mud. Then the heavens opened and down came the rain, by morning the mud flowing down from the hills was starting to infiltrate the dark waters of the bay. It was like a giant brown blob threatening to engulf everything in its path, including us, so we changed locations and moved out to the clear waters of the reef for the night.

Next day it was time to play tourist so off we went to Faaroa Bay to explore the Aoppomau River, the only navigable river on the island.

It’s not a long river but in places it gets quite shallow necessitating our dinghy motor to be lifted. The river wends its way towards the hills through thick overgrown jungle with low hanging tree branches just waiting to give you a good kick in the head if you’re not on the ball. While below, the waterline tree roots and submerged logs demand careful navigation. We travelled as far as we dared before the vines and trees impeded our path.

On the way back we stopped at a veggie farm we’d heard about from other cruisers. Andre the owner greeted us on the river’s edge and secured our  dinghy line. He was more than happy and very proud to show us around.

   

He had quite a variety of crops growing, There were all the usual suspects, bananas, coconuts, mango and papaya, but he also grew beans, potatoes lychees and a long coffee been type fruit the name of which escapes me. Andre piled us high with fruit and veg and we left with a bagful for only 1000cfp which is roughly $10. Pretty good value we thought.

 

Next up on the must see list was Marae Taputapuatea, now unless you are Polynesian that’s a heck of a mouthful to pronounce. A marae is the religious, cultural and governing  centre of a village, and this marae would have to be up there in the top two restored sites we’ve seen since arriving in French Polynesia. Also known as  the “Heart of the Polynesian Triangle”, it dates back to the 17th centaury and is dedicated to Oro, the god of war who dominated the Polynesian religious beliefs throughout the 18th century.

Any marae constructed on the other islands had to include stones from this site as a symbol of allegiance and spiritual lineage.Taputapuatea was the centre of spiritual power  in the Polynesian world and its influence spread far and wide to include the Australs, the Cook Islands and New Zealand.

 With our brains spinning from the overload of cultural info it was time to head to the tiny motu of Nao Nao, a pretty little spot on the south east corner of Raiatea. We spent three lovely peaceful days anchored here on the sand flats. There were plenty of small reefs to explore just a short swim away from the back of GWTW. The water was lovely and clear and the fish life, although mainly the small guys, were as are always fun to watch..

 

 

Over the coming days we travelled further north along the west side to  the island of Taha’a which is to the north of Raiatea but still inside the encircling reef which surrounds both islands, two for the price of one so to speak. Taha’a is relatively small compared to it’s big sister but no less impressive.

Inside the western edge of the reef are a couple of small motus. One has a rather ritzy resort with the usual overwater bungalows but between it and the next motu lies a small inlet from the sea known as the coral gardens. We had a late afternoon snorkel here, or rather a crawling snorkel. You beach or anchor the dinghy, then follow the trail to the ocean side of the inlet, wade in and float downstream back into the lagoon The water here is very shallow and the canyons of coral are like a maze with many dead ends. It was a lot of fun and there were a ton of fish but one run was enough for us.

   

That evening we celebrated our 33rd wedding anniversary, with a lovely meal of BBQ salmon, and clinking glasses of delicious NZ Matua Sav Blanc  as the sun set over a backdrop of Bora Bora.

We stayed around this area for another few days visiting one of the two rum distillery's in the bay but no purchases were made this time time.  We also did a tour of the Iaorana Pearl Farm which was excellent. I’d wanted to see the workings of a farm since arriving in Polynesia last year.. When you take a tour you realize  just how involved the process from oyster to stunning pearl necklaces is.

This farm employs eighteen staff,  three of whom are highly skilled Chinese grafters who every day harvest the  800 pearls from the oysters and then  re- graft ( implant) the same shells with a new nuclei (seed).  These oyster shells are then returned to the water for another two to four years before they are retired and various parts of the oyster muscle and shell are pensioned off for spare parts, mostly to the souvenir industry.

We spent out final night in Taha’a on a mooring ball just off the Hibiscus Hotel in Haavene Bay treating ourselves to a dinner ashore and some very fast internet. Liam had already dinghied in to sus out what was on offer and he was told that there was meat and fish and desert and to arrive at 7pm. The meal turned out to be a bit of a lucky dip as there was no menu, so no choice in the matter at all.

We sat for at least 30 mins before any action came our way and then plates of food arrived with no hint of what would be coming next. It was the strangest restaurant experience we’ve ever had but the food was very good. Lucky we like fish because their was no sign of any red meat. The two couples at the next table were equally as surprised as we were. But like I said the food was excellent. The fee for the mooring ball which we’d read in the cruising guide, was at no cost if you ate in the restaurant  but that turned out NOT to be the case and  to our surprise  was added to our bill. The ball cost us an extra $15.

We left the following morning and headed back over to Raiatea and the main town of Uturoa where we stayed two nights on the town dock for free. No one came to collect a fee, so that was a bonus. We did a flurry of last minute provisioning and caught up for lunch with  French cruising friends who we met during our stay in Guatemala four years ago. They have since sold their boat and have taken up residency here and built a drop dead gorgeous house over looking the lagoon with views across to Huahine. Seeing them after such a long time was great and it truly felt like we’d never parted.

It was time to get moving once again and with GWTW bulging at the seams with provisions and fuel tanks ditto, we bid Raiatea goodbye in our wake and pointed our bows towards the iconic island of Bora Bora.

Follow us on our tracker at :

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