Passage Prep, Take Two

It’s a sunny Sunday, here at Maupiti Island, with light northeasterly winds just ruffling the surface of this neon aqua lagoon. Yesterday, we had a fantastic walk, all the way around the island in under four hours, including a stop for lunch at Plage Tereia, over on the west side. We’ve been here for 11 days now, and are beginning to feel the familiar pull westward. No matter how much we love a place, the early-November, beginning of cyclone season, deadline is ever-present, and we know we need to move on. The south swell generated by big winds to the south of us is dropping, making Maupiti’s Passe Onoiau navigable once again. The weather files make it look like Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday will be good days to depart, with southerly winds filling in and backing to some brisk southeasterlies by week’s end. So, we prepare for passage, again.

Yesterday afternoon, I hoisted Mark up the mast for a pre-passage inspection. Today he’s finishing a small engine repair, and fixing a creaky bail on the boom that drives us crazy in rolling seas. We’ve decided to swap the genoa for the jib, and adjust our reefing points on the mainsail, in anticipation of some stronger winds. Tomorrow, I’ll bake some cookies and prepare a few meals in advance, to make sure we’ve got something hot and nutritious to eat during the first few days of passage, when my pesky seasickness makes cooking a little more difficult. Then we’ll stow the outboard, deflate the dinghy (again…) and stow it on deck for passage.

Right now, we’re planning to head straight for Tonga, but that may change depending on wind angle. Although there are a number of wonderful places we could stop en route (as I wrote previously), we’re inclined to keep going if the weather holds. Plus, the waters around Tonga’s Vava’u Group are a known breeding and birthing ground for humpback whales. From July through October, humpbacks from the Southern Ocean come to Tonga’s warm waters, and we’re very much hoping for some whale encounters! We’re hoping to cover the 1400nm from Maupiti to Neiafu in less than two weeks, but we’ll keep you posted as we go…

Here are some photos from our time here at Maupiti, the last I’ll be able to post for a while. I’m also including the link (click here) to a short video that I made, when we snorkeled and dove with giant mantas. Enjoy, and wish us luck on this next leg of our journey!

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Change of Plans

A window of opportunity opened for us last week, so we made a very last minute decision to change our plans. Just as we were finishing our preparations for the passage to Suwarrow: deflating and rolling up the dinghy and securing for a week at sea, having already given away the last of our French Polynesian currency, sent our voyage plan and emails to family and friends and mentally prepared to sail; we received an email from our friends on S/V Estrellita containing the simple message that the pass at Maupiti looked good. Initially, we both said “nice thought, but we’re ready to go”. After an hour of contemplation though, we decided it was too good an opportunity to pass up. We’d both wanted to stop at Maupiti, one of the far western islands of French Polynesia, from the beginning, but really thought conditions weren’t going to allow it. The lagoon has just one pass, which is narrow and open to the south. When the south swell is up, the lagoon fills with the sea washing over the outer reef. All that water has to go somewhere, so currents flowing out of the pass can reach 8-9 kts. When this current meets a southerly swell, and / or strong-ish southerly winds, the pass can be white with standing waves, and thus impassable for boats like us. So… to receive the insider’s line that the pass looked good was a big gift.

We decided that we’d leave Bora Bora in the late afternoon, before dark to allow for a little acclimation and minimize my seasickness. Although it was only 28 nm pass to pass, we thought we might be able to sail slowly and then heave to for an hour or two, ready to check the pass in the early morning light, and continue on to Suwarrow if conditions looked bad. However, the wind picked up after sunset, and we couldn’t go slow for trying. On top of that, I had my worst seasick night since crossing the Gulf of California over 7 months ago, so poor Mark sailed us to Maupiti, then stayed on watch while we were hove to south of the pass for 6 hours! Hindsight being what it is, we should have departed Bora at about 0500, had a ripping downwind sail, and then entered the pass around 9 or 10. So it goes.

In any case, we dropped the mainsail, and began our approach at about 0630, scanning for the calm middle with binoculars. Although waves were breaking on both sides of the pass, there was no southerly component to the seas, and we could see that tongue of calm water in the middle. Mark took a final look, lined up on the range markers and told me “we’re a go”. So, with a 2-meter beam sea, we rolled into Maupiti’s Passe Onoiau at 0710, with Mark at the helm, laughing and having the time of his life. I was a nervous wreck, but Mark says I hid it well, just calling the range markers and watching the chart for him, and pointedly NOT looking at the surf breaking just 50 feet off our starboard side. And then we were in! It’s so wild to go from rolling seas to the calm of a lagoon in such a short time, and such a relief as well. We motored up the marked channel to the village of Vaiea, and then used “eyeball navigation” to make our way into the anchorage. After we’d anchored and completed our usual arrival chores, our friends came over to share a celebratory breakfast of coffee and crepes. May sound strange, but cooking always relaxes me, so making crepes seemed like the perfect thing to do. Especially since my dear Captain had been up all night, taking my watch while I was seasick!

We’ve been here for a week now, and are likely to stay another. When the weather window opens again, we’ll leave this gorgeous island and continue westward, but until then we’re enjoying doing a little more exploring and a lot more nothing! Mark found our first lionfish on a snorkel outing the first day we were here, and the next day we hiked to the top of the island, for some great aerobic exercise (finally!) and a truly incredible view. Mark’s been getting kiteboarding lessons from Carol and Livia, and yesterday he got up for some good long rides. Not bad for an “old man”, as he jokingly refers to himself!

This past weekend, we took the dinghy back down to the pass for two mornings of snorkeling and diving with giant mantas!! There’s a cleaning station that the mantas come to regularly, and we were able to just watch these graceful giants as they hovered and postured to be cleaned. I watched the mantas furl and unfurl their cephalic lobes, and sit nearly motionless with their gills expanded while the various cleaner fish did their work. Although there were usually just 2 – 4 animals there at a time, we saw 8(!) together at one point. I thought two of the mantas looked like pregnant females, and a local divemaster confirmed it. With the worldwide decline of shark and ray populations, this was very encouraging to see. I shot and edited a short video clip, so you can see for yourselves how graceful they are. Please understand, I was just using our little point-and-shoot Panasonic Lumix…

I’ll post an album of still photos later, once we’ve exhausted our playtime here, and have a plan for moving on. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this short video of the mantas – click here to watch it.

Hoping you’re having a great summer wherever you are, Michelle

Near Miss

Those two little words seem so innocuous in common speech, but every mariner knows immediately that a near miss is a disaster narrowly averted. That’s how we started our day today – with a near miss. It’s more than ironic that I just waxed so rhapsodic about having a Bora Bora Yacht Club mooring during the past few days of intense weather, only to have things go really wrong last night. Before I tell you the whole story though, let me assure you that Mark, Michelle and Cheers are all fine. No injuries, no damages and no lasting mental trauma, just an overwhelming sense in both of us that someone, somewhere is looking out for us. After we were securely moored once again, we stopped to say a quick thank you to Saint Nicholas, the patron saint of sailors, whose Greek Orthodox icon we were given by dear Greek friends, and which adorns the bulkhead of our main saloon.

Here’s the story. I’ve already told you about the crazy winds of the past few days, and about how close we swung to one of our neighbors, but we’d been watching things for more than three days, and were satisfied with the mooring we’d taken. So, last night we took the dinghy around the point to the south of us, to have dinner with our Swiss friends Yvonne and Bruno, on S/Y Momo. The wind picked up during dinner, so we called it an early night, and were back aboard Cheers by 8:30 p.m. We were both pretty tired, as we haven’t been getting great sleep with the gusty winds, and hit the rack early. Around 3 a.m., Mark heard something that alerted his Captain-sense, and went up on deck to have a look around. At about 3:05, he came back down below, and calmly announced, “Sweetie, our mooring broke, and we’re adrift. I need you to get up.” Those of you who have worked with Mark, or know him well, can imagine exactly that calm, cool delivery. That’s the voice that always let me know to snap to it, because it’s really an emergency.

So, in approximately two and a half seconds, I went from deep sleep to on deck in my jammies, flipping on instruments and asking if I could start the engine. Mark already had the radar warming up, and the masthead strobe flashing to alert anybody that might be watching that we were adrift and getting things figured out. I got the GPS and depth sounder turned on, while Mark fired up the electronic chart and pulled the paper chart out of the nav station. Engine on, switch to running lights and, of course, this would be the one moment when our nav computer and GPS didn’t want to talk to each other! So Mark used his years of experience to figure out right where we were using the paper chart and radar. Winds were still blowing 20 knots and gusting to 30, so we slowly crept back in to the small cove where we’d been moored, and anchored behind the fleet of yachts, in about 90 feet of water. Thankfully, the bottom here is fine coral sand, so the holding was FABULOUS! We put out most of our 300 feet of chain with our trusty 45-pound CQR anchor, and held through to dawn. As I’m sure you can imagine, Mark couldn’t go back to sleep, so he stood an anchor watch, while I curled up on the couch (settee) for a short nap. We both went out on deck to watch an amazing sunrise, preceded by a view of the crescent moon very near Venus, Jupiter and the star Aldebaran – really beautiful.

So, long story short, this is the closest we’ve ever come to losing Cheers, but, as the saying goes, “all’s well that ends well”, and we’re all fine. Mark and I have spent the day marveling that we didn’t hit even a corner of the EIGHT boats we drifted by… or the first reef that’s just to the south of us… or the reef next to the main channel that was just a quarter mile away from us when we fired up the engine… Like I said, someone is watching out for us, no doubt about it. So, thank you dear friends and family for your kind and supportive thoughts, they really mean the world to us.

This will be our last post from French Polynesia, as we’ve decided to head west tomorrow. Looks like we’ve got good winds for the next week, so it’s time to take advantage of them and go. A few Australian boats left today, and there are several more of us leaving tomorrow, followed by another contingent on Wednesday. We’ll post our position every day, and make blog posts whenever wind and seas allow time at the computer. For the moment, we’re planning to head for Suwarrow Atoll, located at 13 degrees 17 minutes South, 163 degrees 8 minutes West, but the wind, seas and weather forecast may cause us to change our minds and head straight for Tonga – we’ll keep you posted. Please enjoy this last set of photos from the Society Islands, and wish us fair winds and following seas.

Hoping all is well in your corner of the world, Michelle

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Waiting on Weather

Well friends, it’s been a week (almost) since we arrived here in Bora Bora, and the weather is positively abysmal. We’ve managed to knock off some of the projects on our pre-passage “to do” list, and enjoy a little bit of socializing at the Heiva festivities, but it’s been a wet and wild few days for sure. When we looked at the GRIBs (weather files) last week from Raiatea, and saw a nasty front headed our way, we knew we wanted a secure spot to ride it out. Bora Bora is the westernmost of the Iles Sous Le Vent (literally, Islands Under the Wind, the Leeward group of the Society Islands), and the island where most yachts make their official “checkout” from French Polynesia. With so many boats arriving and checking in to the country at about the same time that we did, we knew there would be a LOT of boats headed to Bora to checkout. Many cruisers also want to take in the famous singing and dancing performances of Bora’s annual Heiva Festival, as well as celebrate Bastille Day here on July 14^th. In any case, we figured that it was about to get busy, so we wanted to get ahead of the pack and hoped to score one of the island’s coveted moorings.

Well, we did, and we’re feeling super fortunate to have arrived just in time. Last Monday we departed Taha’a Island at sunrise, and motor-sailed over to Bora. We entered the pass before noon, and took one of the moorings at the new Mai Kai Marina, which were offered free until the 14^th as a promotion. After feeling how exposed this location was to the prevailing southeasterlies, I called the Bora Bora Yacht Club around the corner, to see if they had moorings available. The answer was yes, so we slipped the mooring at Mai Kai, made a pit stop at the fuel dock for our last duty-free diesel, and headed for the BBYC. When we arrived, there were about 8 moorings available, but by the end of the day Tuesday, the last one was full, and there were more boats arriving. After having a terrible (and unsuccessful) time trying to find space in Papeete, we’re feeling very grateful that this worked out. Grateful to be on a secure mooring in this 90-foot deep lagoon, rather than putting the wear on our anchor and chain. Grateful for the short ride to the dinghy dock, and a leg-stretching walk into town. Both of these things have meant a lot, as we’ve experienced particularly nasty, squally weather since last Thursday. Intermittent downpours, wind gusts as high as 53 knots (reported by another boat), and crazy williwaws (downdrafts off the mountain) that heel each boat over in turn, and send all of us skidding sideways on our moorings. I would LOVE to have a time-lapse video of this, taken from up on the hillside! The good news is that we’re tucked up right beside the island, so there’s no fetch, which means no wind waves. The bad news is that when the gusts hit, the boats don’t always move in the same direction, so we’ve come uncomfortably close to our neighbors on a couple of occasions.

Now, we’re poring over weather forecasts of every shape and size, trying to pick a window to begin the next leg of our journey. This is where things begin to get interesting… From Bora Bora, there are several options for boats headed west – the “Southern Route” through Rarotonga and the Southern Cook Islands then on to Tonga, often via the tiny state of Niue; the “Northern Route” to Suwarrow Atoll and the Northern Cook Islands, usually to Western or American Samoa, or both; or, as many boats seem to be choosing this season, a middle route, that hopes to include Suwarrow, but then drops back south to the Vava’u Group of Tonga. There are a few issues that have arisen this season, making a challenge of any choice. We’ve all just received news that Rarotonga is essentially closed to cruising yachts this season, as they are dredging their harbor (which is open to the north) during the period of primarily southerly winds. Not such bad news, as most of us had already decided to shoot for the northern route, after watching too many Lows and Fronts pass over the Southern Cooks so far this season. You see, the South Pacific Convergence Zone, or SPCZ, lies between Bora Bora and Tonga, and we’re all trying to minimize our contact with its squally downpours and shifting winds. After years of watching the weather to plan the details of each week’s trip when we were working with Lindblad, we’ve both become a little obsessive about checking as many sources as possible, as far out as the forecasts will let us. So, we download weather files, talk to each other, and strategize on a departure date. Although it’s hard to imagine with the crappy weather we’re having today, we’re thinking that Thursday might be our day. It looks like we’ll have another frontal passage tomorrow and Tuesday, and then the winds appear to settle into easterlies and southeasterlies, at least for a few days. Of course, with the strong winds we’ve been experiencing, we know that seas will be bigger than we’d like, predicted to be in the 8 – 12 ft. range. However, we need to leave as soon as we can, since we’ve officially checked out of the country, and are only able to stay because of the “irregular situation” of the foul weather. Ahhhh, the joys of sailing in the South Pacific… I have to say, this hasn’t really been the Bora Bora of my dreams. Although, I can’t help but feel incredibly fortunate that we’re not among the folks who chartered a sailboat here for a just this week!

All that said, we’re doing well here aboard Cheers. We’re learning to stay fluid in our decision making, doing our best to enjoy our last days in French Polynesia and, most of all, we’re remembering to laugh with (not at) each other.

Bora Bora Bound

Today we left our lovely spot on the southeast side of Raiatea, after a fabulous morning swim, planning to stop and get fuel in town, and then stage for a crossing to Bora Bora tomorrow. Except it’s Sunday… doh! So… no fuel today. We then motored up to the “Taravana Yacht Club”, on the south side of Taha’a Island, expecting to find a funky little outpost where we could tie up to a mooring ball, and maybe go ashore for a drink at sunset. Well, we found the mooring, but the “Yacht Club” is no more. A large, hand painted sign reading “Ferme, Access Interdit! Closed, Access Prohibited! Tabu!” greeted us at what must have once been the dinghy dock. Bummer. We have no idea what the story is, as there were cruising boats here last year, but we’ve definitely seen other signs of the global economic crisis since we’ve been here. Anyway, we’re staged for our run to Bora Bora tomorrow, and planning to depart at first light for the 28nm trip.

You see, while most folks book a weeklong dream vacation on Bora Bora, we’re going there to officially check out of the country, and to hole up for a frontal passage. Yep, we’ve been watching our various weather sources, and it looks like a nasty low pressure system is going to pass just south of us, hitting us with some strong winds for a couple of days. Since we’d rather not set out on our passage to the northern Cook Islands with 5-7 meter seas predicted, we’re planning to wait it out… at Bora Bora. Methinks there are worse places to wait for better weather? In any case, we still need to get fuel, and I’d really love to do some laundry before setting out on passage again. So, we’ll hope for the best, and find a secure spot to moor, or anchor, in case of the worst. And we’ll let you know how it goes.

In the meantime, here are a few photos from our time at Huahine and Raiatea, enjoy. Wishing you well, Michelle

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The Sacred Isle

After nearly a week of unsettled weather at Huahine, we departed yesterday morning for the 20 nm sail across the channel to Raiatea. As the second largest of all the Society Islands, Raiatea is now the capital of the Leeward Island group, and shares a navigable lagoon with Taha’a, just to the north. Prior to European contact, Raiatea was the religious, cultural and political center of what is now French Polynesia. Legend holds that Raiatea was the ancient Havai’i, or Sacred Isle, from which all of eastern Polynesia was colonized. It’s also said that the great Polynesian voyages to Hawaii and New Zealand set out from Raiatea. Raiatea was also certainly Captain James Cook’s favorite island, as he visited on all three of his voyages, spending more than a month here on his third voyage, in 1777.

Winds were light, and seas were sloppy (as usual) on our passage, so we ended up motor-sailing for half the run, arriving at Passe Iriue, on Raiatea’s east coast, in the early afternoon. By now, entering the passes into the lagoons has become somewhat routine for us. We watch the swell breaking on the reef on both sides of the pass, but have learned to see the smooth water that will allow us access to the calm lagoon inside. We’d planned to anchor at a spot just inside the pass, but found two mega-yachts trailing a fleet of jet-skis, RIBs and sport fishing launches already there, a sure sign for us to move along.

We continued south for another hour, and found our spot just inside the reef to the northwest of Passe Teavamoa, known as the “sacred pass”. Just to the west of our anchorage, on the shore of Baie Opoa, was the sacred marae of Taputapuatea, one of the largest and best-preserved “temples” in all of French Polynesia. Scanning the shore with binoculars we saw the temple platforms, paved with black volcanic rocks, and imagined the approach of large va’a (Polynesian voyaging canoes), carrying chiefs from throughout Polynesia. It’s believed that fires lit on the temple platforms acted as beacons to these navigators, and possibly lined up as range markers for entering Passe Teavamoa. As sailors, and now ocean navigators ourselves, this site captured our imaginations in much the same way that the Temple of Poseidon on Cape Sounion had, a place filled with the spirit of ancient sailors.

Today, we went ashore to visit the marae site, and see it close-up. We found that it still holds cultural importance, but more as a park than a temple. We’re in the midst of the festivities for the annual Heiva celebrations on each of the Society Islands, and today’s event was obviously a big bocce tournament. Teams clad in matching t-shirts bearing the names of the island’s villages competed on a large grassy field, while a woman called play by play over a loudspeaker, in both French and Tahitian. We paddled the dinghy in to the wooden pier, and all the kids that had been jumping into the water stopped to watch our approach. Once we had the boat tied up, and were a respectable distance away, a few of the braver kids climbed aboard and inspected our gear, leaving just a little sand and small muddy footprints behind as evidence. The site was wide open, and very well maintained, with ample signage in French, Tahitian and English, explaining the various structures. We walked dow
n to the shore beyond the welcoming marae, between two platforms where the high-ranking individuals would have been seated, and looked out to sea, almost exactly through Passe Teavamoa. Turning around, Mark spotted what may have been one of the signal fire platforms, in perfect position to be a back range. We didn’t have a guide, so couldn’t say for certain that’s what we were looking at, but it sure made sense to us. Anyway, that’s our story, and we’re sticking to it!

Returning to Cheers for lunch, we surveyed our anchorage a little more closely, using the sounding lead that Ross and Andrea gave us as a wedding gift all those years ago. Mark decided that there were just a few too many coral heads, too close and too shallow to feel good about staying another night, so we raised the anchor and continued south… to an anchorage that we’ve dubbed “Pure Paradise”! I promise to post photos when we next have internet, but for now I want you to imagine the following: you’re anchored in a huge pool of clear turquoise water, just 12 feet deep of pure white sand, for hundreds of meters in three directions. Ahead of us, about half a mile, is the fringing reef, complete with booming surf. Behind us, some 100 meters, is the navigable channel, which drops from our 12-foot plateau to over 100 feet deep in less than a boat length. On the other side of the channel, a half -mile away, is the rugged southeast shore of Raiatea Island. This was another one of
those places where we just laughed together after we set the hook, because it’s so beautiful and we feel so incredibly grateful to be here. The sun was out all afternoon, so we went for a swim and a dinghy ride after lunch. We watched the clouds and glassy smooth surface of the lagoon turn pink at sunset, and, after dinner, went out on deck to see Scorpius, Crux, Sagittarius and Centaurus in the bright haze of the Milky Way. The surf crashing on the outer reef provided the soundtrack for our evening stargazing. These are the moments, dear friends, that we cherish. They don’t come every day, or at every island, so we try to absorb every second when we get them.

Tomorrow we’re hoping to snorkel just inside the outer reef, and to explore the funny looking motu that’s out to the northeast of us. The forecast looks pretty good, so we’re going to take a play day before we have to start preparing in earnest for our next big passage – to Tonga. We have a few projects, as well as the usual fuel / provisions / laundry chores that need to be completed prior to departure. At the moment, we’re planning to complete our official check-out from French Polynesia at the end of next week, and then hoping for a weather window for the week-long passage to Suwarrow Atoll… but more on that later.

Hoping you had a fabulous 4th of July, Michelle

Chercher un connecteur par gaz de cuisine…, Or, Living the Dream

self-portrait from the Moorea Belvedere

The other day, Mark was visiting one of the other boats that we’d met as part of the Pacific Puddle Jump group, swapping stories of our time in French Polynesia. We’ve all had many amazing experiences and seen some beautiful sights, so it’s fun to share our excitement and gratitude for all of it. However, on this particular day, the conversation turned to some of the more mundane aspects of this cruising life. The other couple commented that they hadn’t expected it to be so challenging just to deal with the “basics”, and we had to agree. So far, I’ve shared the highlights and special moments of our adventure here on this blog, what Mark and I jokingly refer to as “living the dream”. While we certainly aren’t expecting much sympathy for our challenges, I thought some of you might be interested to hear about the day-to-day aspects of our cruising life, and some of the reality behind the “dream”.

While cruising in Mexico, we’d spent weeks away from marinas and services, but always returned to a fuel dock, a fresh water wash down, and plenty of lavanderías. We certainly knew that we weren’t going to find marinas here in French Polynesia, and expected to be mostly self-sufficient, especially in the remote Marquesas and Tuamotus island groups. However, we’ve been quite surprised by some of the challenges we’ve faced. Laundry, for example, has been ridiculous. Many boats that we’ve met have washing machines onboard, so aren’t bothered by the complete lack of Laundromats, but that’s not the case for us. The space, power and water requirements to have a washer onboard are beyond us, but we still like to have some clean laundry once in a while! We’ve only been able to take laundry out for service (of dubious quality…) in Hiva Oa, Marquesas; Fakarava, Tuamotus; and Cook’s Bay, Moorea. In Papeete, I was able to wash my own laundry in the marina machines… for a mere $8 per washer load, and their dryers were essentially non-functional, so the boat became a giant clothesline for the day. This means I’ve been able to wash the sheets and towels just 4 times in nearly 4 months, and have spent more than $160 for the privilege! We’ve adapted by wearing the same clothes for far more days in a row than we would otherwise, and by doing the occasional load of hand laundry. Chalk this one up to experience, and remember that we’re not spending any money on moorage, so the budget is still intact.

One of the other challenges has been the acquisition of various necessary liquids – gasoline, diesel, water and propane, or cooking gas. Diesel and gas have been minor hassles, just requiring the muscle to schlep the jerry jugs to and from the gas station in the dinghy. Water has been a bit more of a challenge, mostly because of the difficulty finding potable sources. Yes, we have a water maker, and we use it as our primary source for water, converting the abundant seawater around us into fresh, potable water in our tank. However, we’ve tried to supplement with water from shore when possible, especially when we’re in an anchorage with a lot of other boats, or, as happened the other night after a ferocious frontal passage, we have a lot of silt and mud in the water. So, we’re always on the lookout for a place to fill our jerry cans and solar showers, and then apply the previously mentioned muscle to schlep the jugs from Cheers to dinghy, from dinghy to beach, from beach to spigot, from spigot back to beach, back to dinghy and back to Cheers, before emptying them into our tank. The whole process can easily take half a day…

The other liquid that we’ve had a little adventure procuring is propane. In the Marquesas, we had 3 of our 4 bottles filled for us. Easy. Our next fill was a little more challenging, as we (read, Mark) had to rent a cylinder from the local store, and fill our tanks by gravity. First, though, we needed to complete the hose connection that we’d started in Mexico, to be able to connect the tank with the European fitting to our bottles, with the American valves. And here, dear friends, is where we reach the title of this post. Armed with my little French phrasebook, and the bit of French I’ve been able to learn while here, we hit the hardware stores of Moorea, in search of a connecter. I’ve done fairly well with market French and can exchange greetings with the locals, but the hardware store? I did it all the time in Mexico, where Mark had me be his “crutch” when searching for tornillos and manguera, but in French? Well, I’m proud to say, I did it! Je précis un connecteur par gaz. Oui, par remplir un tanque de gaz de cuisine. Voila! They understood what we needed, and completed the assembly of our gravity feed hose! I’m sure I sounded like a cavewoman, or an infant, as far as grammar is concerned, but I got the point across and we were on our way. Of course, it’s never quite that simple, and Mark had to make several modifications to the hose with plumbing bits that he had in his spares bin, before the thing actually worked without spewing butane into the atmosphere. After spending most of the day on this project, hoisting the large tank first into a tree onshore, then back to the boat and up into our rigging, and then tending the fill of each of our gas bottles, Mark finished the chore. Thank goodness he’s a patient man…

The other basics, such as trash and groceries, have been less challenging. We’ve found trash receptacles, and even recycling bins, on most islands, for the disposal of the small amount of trash we generate. During our entire month-long Pacific passage, we only filled one large kitchen trash bag, primarily with plastics, tin cans and glossy paper. I keep a “slop bucket” (large plastic jar with a lid) for all food waste, and that goes overboard when we’re out at sea. It can get pretty full after a week in an anchorage, but it’s much better than filling the trash bag. All paper and cardboard gets torn into tiny bits, and goes overboard as well, when we’re out at sea, of course. I save glass jars for reuse, and glass bottles get the bottom knocked out with the handle from our adjustable backstay, and then sunk at sea. Many cruisers toss tin and aluminum cans overboard as well, but I just can’t do it. I remove the bottoms from the tin cans and flatten them before throwing in the trash. As for aluminum… this is where I make a strong pitch for going to great lengths to try and recycle. The power consumed in the production of a single new aluminum can is far greater than what’s used to recycle the old ones, so the thought of tossing aluminum on to the sea floor just doesn’t sit well with me. Although I don’t have hard statistics, I’d wager that there are currently enough aluminum cans in circulation globally, that new aluminum wouldn’t need to be mined, or processed, if all cans were recycled. I’ve heard the argument that many places in the world don’t have recycling facilities, but… my observation has been that enterprising individuals in many poor parts of the world collect these cans, and find a way to make a little money… so, I believe there’s ample reason to separate out those aluminum cans, make some space for them onboard, and get them to shore whenever there’s the slightest possibility of recycling.

As for groceries, we’ve been eating like kings! Fresh baguettes, reasonably priced French cheeses, charcuterie and wine, and FAR more locally grown fresh veggies than I’d been led to believe! Yes, the imported pears are expensive, but the local pineapples and papayas are not. We’re still eating the staples that I stocked in Mexico, and just supplementing with fresh foods on occasion. We discovered a seasonal, locally produced pastry called firi firi(sp?) recently. Like a homemade coconut doughnut, formed as a figure eight, they’re delicious for breakfast!

Of course, we’re still amazed daily by the sunrises, sunsets and views of tropical beauty from our cockpit, so the “challenges” are just part of the adventure. Enough for now, I hope you enjoy the photos and story! ~ Michelle

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