CAPTAIN’S LOG                     August 21 to September 30, 2014

The Kingdom of Tonga          Vava’U – Ha’Apia – Tongatapu   

 

Samoa to Vava’U: Our 320 mile trip down to Tonga from Samoa was a rough ride, with swells from the east in the 8-10 foot range.  ARGO handles high seas very well, our stabilizers keep her from rolling or yawing very much, but the constant pitching and movement was unpleasant.   It was a beam sea, and some of the swells were so large that we rolled to starboard as they began to pass under us, then leveled at the crest, and then rolled to port and slid down the back side of the wave sideways as it passed under us.  Of course we didn’t leave Samoa without a weather forecast, but it was dead wrong.   Unfortunately a trough had formed and it was blowing around 30 knots for the whole voyage.   No one felt well during the trip, and I got a good dose of sea sickness to boot.  It’s passages like this that make us think fondly of spending our time in a plush hotel in Provence!

Arrival at Neiafu:  We arrived at the town of Neiafu on the Island of Vava’U at 0700 and tied to the custom’s dock.  Before our lines were secured, the immigration, health and customs agents were on the dock and ready for business.   After filling out the customary forms and paying about $100 in various fees, we went ashore.   It wasn’t long before we had arranged telephone service, bought fresh vegetables from the farmers’ market near the dock, and made a short walk down Main Street to see what Neiafu was all about.  What we found was a rag-tag collection of a few stores, three banks, a Western Union office, several bars, restaurants, churches, and souvenir shops.  Neiafu is a waypoint for boaters who are either going south to Tongatapu and New Zealand, or westward to Fiji.   The harbor is very large, clear blue, and deep.  It can accommodate any size ship that can make it past the narrow channel in the reef at its entrance.  When we arrived, there were about thirty boats on mooring balls in the harbor.  At anchor in the western end of the harbor was Paul Allen’s 225 ft. yacht Meduse, one of several he owns.  Along the waterfront were a selection of bars and restaurants, however the Aquarium Restaurant seemed to be the gathering spot for most of the boaters.  Mike, its American owner, was a congenial fellow who gladly provided information about the island and help with anything anyone needed. 

Late in the morning we moved to an anchorage just west of town and anchored in 95 feet of water near Meduse.   Rumor had it that some big shot like Bill Gates was coming, but no one showed up while we were there.  Not to be outdone, we had our own personage to welcome aboard at Neiafu.  Just as we dropped anchor, Mike from the Aquarium called on the VHF to tell us that our intrepid friend Reid Sherard had arrived and was at his dockside restaurant waiting for us to pick him up.  Reid had flown 36 hours from Los Angeles to Auckland, then to Nuku’alofa, and finally on to Neiafu.  He actually arrived a day ahead of schedule.   With him were two bottles of vodka and three printer cartridges (which are unique to the U.S.).  It was great to see our old friend. 

Meanwhile back on Argo, Tyler was diligently washing the sea salt off and readying her for company.   Giving Argo a bath is a lot of work and takes an entire day. We are very lucky to have Tyler onboard; Tyler takes a great deal of pride in his work and makes this yacht shine like no other!  He is a great asset to us!

The weather in Vava’U was in some ways a welcome relief from the searing heat and high humidity we had experienced since leaving Jamaica six months ago.  For the first time we didn’t need air conditioning.   The Tongans told us that it was unseasonable cold:  the temperature was consistently about 77⁰, humidity in the high 60’s, and the sea water temperature was 78⁰.  Despite this perfect combination of factors, the wind blew at 20 mph for days making the water a little too rough and cloudy to enjoy water sports or riding about in the dingy.  This is springtime in this part of the world and transitional weather patterns brought more clouds and wind than usual.  We were disappointed that Reid didn’t have better conditions given the long trip he made to get here.

We found Neiafu to be a very pleasant place with friendly people who were helpful and kind.  Many boating friends that we had met along the way were also there, so we spent a few enjoyable evenings catching up and hearing about their experiences.   Altogether we spent eighteen days at anchor diving, touring the island, talking with friends, whale snorkeling, going to church, feasting, and enjoying all that is. 

The Kingdom of Tonga: The Vava’U Group is the northern most archipelago of the Kingdom of Tonga.  The Kingdom is made up of three island groups: Vava’U to the north, Ha’Apia, in the center lying 60 miles south of Vava’U, and Tongatapu, the third archipelago that lies 60 miles south of Ha’Apia and is home to the kingdom’s capital city, Nuku’alofa.  Altogether the three groups stretch about 160 miles from north to south along the Tonga Ridge, which is formed by the meeting of the Australian and Pacific Plates in the South Pacific Ocean.  Tonga is thought to be moving eastward at 25 cm per year and is gradually sinking into the ocean.

Unlike all the other islands of Polynesia, The Kingdom of Tonga has never been colonized by Westerners.  Tonga is governed by a king who enjoys all the regalia that goes with a monarchy: e.g., nobles, royal lands, money minted with the king’s image on it, royal tombs, a palace, and of course, ownership of the key money making enterprises.  Originally the three island groups were each governed by a Tu’iTonga, a man/god chief.  The Tu’iTonga on Ha’Apia with the help of the Wesleyan Methodists and the British Navy, attacked the Tu’iTonga on Tongatapu and in the twenty year war overthrew him and established a kingdom modeled on the British monarchy.  The chiefs who supported him were made nobles and the Methodist Church and the British were granted special rights.  The king named himself George I (all kings are named George and today we have George VI).  He proclaimed that all land was owned by God and given to him by God for safe keeping.  Of course he took the prime and largest cuts for himself, his cronies, and the Wesleyan Methodists.  Even today all land in Tonga is owned by the king, but some time ago the king granted title to eight acre parcels to individual Tongan males.  Woman may not own land.   

The country has a constitution established in the mid 1800’s.   Until 2006 the king was more or less an absolute monarch and ruled a nation of about 103,000 people.  There were riots and the burning of buildings in 2006 as Tongans demanded greater democratization of the government, but it isn’t clear that anything of substance has changed, although it now has a parliament. 

There are estimated to be about 70,000 Tongans living abroad who send money back to their families in Tonga and this constitutes the largest source of foreign revenue for the country.  About 70,000 people live in the capital of Nukualofa, about 15,000 live on Vava’U, and the balance live on other islands.  Land can only be titled to Tongans, however “squatter’s rights” comes into play when a person moves onto land that no one is paying attention to and resides there for ten years or more.  The original owner loses title.  A Tongan must appear in person on his land at least once every ten years and chase any squatters off or risk losing it.  If a “palangi” (a white person) wishes to acquire property, it can only be leased from a Tongan or noble and leases must be approved by parliament and the king.  Leases are easily obtained and the lessee will eventually get a copy of the lease with the king’s signature and the royal seal in wax at the bottom.  Leases can extend up to fifty years.

As in Samoa, families are large (average ten children) and those members that are ambitious are encouraged to migrate abroad and send money home.  By and large I don’t think Tongans are a very motivated lot, although they are very friendly.   The country is very poor and the brighter people head for Australia, New Zealand or the U.S. if they can get a visa, which is increasingly had to come by.  Most countries feel that they have enough islander immigrants, particularly as some Tongans abroad have been pushed into crime to meet the financial demands of their families at home.  Title to land is devised on a primo-genitor basis, so if you are not the first born male you might as well leave for greener pastures.   Of course at least one lucky soul is obligated to stay home and take care of mom, dad, grandma, and keep an eye on the family’s property.   Despite their obvious poverty, few beg or go hungry.  Tongans take care of each other and are deeply committed to their family.  Tongans seem to be proud people; they have their islands, their heritage, and their religions.  They also have a Western Union office in almost every village of any size, and its sign is the only one in good repair. Aside from having children, they raise pigs and chickens (raise is too strong a verb as they just let them run about and grab one for dinner as needed), cultivate small gardens of taro, kava, bananas, carrots and whatever else will grow.  Most of the land I saw under cultivation was done by human labor: no beasts of burden or tractors.  Driving around the whole island I saw four tractors and one horse.  Undoubtedly there are a few more, but most land is cultivated on small plots on a human scale.  All this is supplemented by fish the men catch. 

The climate here is more temperate than all the other islands we have visited, and for the first time we have seen fruits and vegetables that we are more accustomed to seeing at home.   Each village has at least one church, and Sunday is an observed day of rest, religion, family and feast.  Their school system has managed to teach the English language to almost everyone over the last twenty five years.  The government provides primary school, and the religious sects, particularly Moorman and Wesleyan Methodist, provide secondary schools, although you have to belong to the church and tithe in order to send your children to the church’s school.  Driving around the countryside, you can see large noble estates, but most parcels are about eight acres in size and cultivated by a family for subsistence.  The churches in Tonga are shamefully medieval in the power and wealth the clergy wields, and in the way people are forced to give money to them.  The Mormons seem to be very aggressive and have built a facility at virtually every cross road.  Homes are very basic except for those of the local church ministers or government officials. Large houses (the size of a typical American suburban home) are either owned by nobles or church ministers.  The villages are not kept up as they are in the other parts of Polynesia, and on the smaller islands of the Ha’Apia Group cyclone damage from last summer’s storms is considerable.

Vava’U Group:   Coming into Vava’U was very different than the other islands we had visited during the last six months.  The island is not volcanic.  It is a coral island rising abruptly about 300 feet from the ocean’s surface to a flat plain that is covered in dense jungle.  From the sea, the islands look like huge stone monoliths with dramatic cliffs; beaches are present only where the cliffs give way to a little bay or indentations in the rock.  The water is crystal clear, and the bays and passages between the islands are deep sapphire blue and the islands colorful.  Here, in the shelter of the islands and the warm waters of the Mid-Pacific Ocean, Humpback Whales come to give birth and breed each year.

Whales:  Vava’U is most well-known for “swimming with whales”.  There are two or three outfitters who are licensed to take tourist on “whale dives”.   A dive is actually a surface snorkel and is an all day ordeal in which eight or so snorkelers accompany a guide, four at a time into the water to swim next to a cow and calf (usually).  Males are difficult to swim with because they are on the move and are often breaching or pushing each other around in an effort to attract the attention of a female (what’s new?).  Would-be swimmers wear wet suits and ride around for hours in the open boat until an appropriate female and calf are spotted.  Then the boat stops a hundred yards or so from the mother, and if she doesn’t swim off, four snorkelers at a time quietly enter the water with a guide and swim over to within fifteen or twenty feet of the whale.   Females with newborns often rest for part of the day so as to let the little one nurse and safely play.  As you swim toward the leviathan you can see how big these creatures are; 100 plus tons suspended just at the water’s surface with the majority of their body hanging perhaps 100 or more feet below.  You first see their giant black backs with a prominent spine, as you look downward you see the spine lead to the tail a hundred feet or so below in the blue water.  The black upper body changes to a white underside with huge folds in its skin.  The breathing hole is at the water’s surface and is about one third of the length of the body and behind the head.  Forward of the breathing hole the head rests suspended in fifteen or so feet of water and is a strange, but familiar shape.  The eyes are on the side of the head well back of its huge jaw line that is covered in barnacle like growths.  The little calf swims about its mother turning and twisting as it goes, and then pausing for refreshment if desired.  Calves drink about 50 gallons of a yogurt type mother’s milk each day and grow rapidly.  The adjective “little” really doesn’t apply as they can be thousands of pounds within weeks.  During our dives we were within ten or fifteen feet of these huge, beautiful animals.  On one of our dives we spent perhaps a half an hour within feet of a mother and calf.  The baby came so close to us and was so frisky I thought it might injure us, not knowing its own youthful strength.  After all the divers returned to the boat and were drying off, we watched the mother and baby at the surface of the water.  I saw the mother’s tale flukes rise high in the air, an indication of a deep dive.  I assumed she was leaving.  We were only a hundred yards or so from her.  A moment or two later she erupted straight up out of the sea, turning her immense body laterally over in the air, and then crashed down yards from our boat. It was awesome…spell binding…breathtaking…like nothing we had ever seen or imagined.  It was as though she was offering us one last glimpse into her world.  After a few moments to collect our wits, we departed thankful for the experience and emotionally closer to our origins in the natural world.  

The whale’s world underwater in Vava’U is silent, tranquil, warm and slow moving.  Occasionally you can hear the whales sing.  Sometimes you can see the males breaching, or pushing each other about in a contest of strength, or, more aggressively, slamming each other with their giant heads in an attempt to prove dominance.  For them this is not play, but the vital, essential business of life.  It’s also no place to snorkel!

We have posted videos and pictures of our whale dives on www.tischtravels.com

Feasts:  Like Samoans, Tongans love a feast.  Aside from their private Sunday family gatherings, entrepreneurs offer feasts to tourists several days a week at different locations around the islands.  We decided to go to one on Sunday at the En’toi Botanical Garden.  The proprietors picked us up in their rickety old, filthy van and drove across the island through the little villages with the shiny new Moorman facilities to their sea side establishment.  The owner, Halima (?), was celebrating his 69^th birthday that day, so the feast was preceded by a speech in which he recalled growing up in the village and not knowing anything about the outside world, not even that it was round.  He thanked providence for his good fortune to become the Assistant Secretary of Agriculture during his career, for his wonderful children, and apologized to his wife Lucy for being less than a perfect husband.  With that, the feast was underway and one by one the eager guests proceeded to the buffet and began selecting from a variety of Tongan dishes including suckling pig, curried fish, poultry, taro, bread fruit, curried vegetables, and other dishes.  After the feast, I looked about and saw several pictures of Halima during his career meeting Pope John Paul in Rome in the company of other Tongan dignitaries including HRH the King.  He told me that he had actually met the Pope twice, and many other dignitaries from around the world as well.  Not bad for a country not bigger than a small town in mid-America!

Our 25^th Wedding Anniversary:  We celebrated our 25^th wedding anniversary here in Tonga.  Rebecca found a nice resort established a few years ago by a sail boating couple from Switzerland who were apparently ready for life on the hard.  Normally they are booked several weeks in advance, but somehow Rebecca got us in.  Kathryn had called them from NYC to try to arrange a surprise, like a bottle of champagne or a local musician to play for us, but nothing like that was available in Tonga.  We moved ARGO to an anchorage off shore and dingied in for a lovely dinner complete with a table cloth and a beautiful flower centerpiece.  Rebecca’s dish was quite interesting: a whole red snapper split down the back from head to tail and baked.  It was very artistic as it looked like a large, pink, spiral ribbon.  It was delicious.

Diving the Ship Wreck:  Just west of our anchorage at Neiafu was a wreck that sunk about twenty years ago in 125 feet of water.  This ship apparently had caught on fire and the captain and engineer stayed aboard to try and save her. Both died when she sank.  Wrecks are common in this part of the world. In Nuku’alofa we counted nine wrecks in the harbor.  In the third world maintenance is not a valued practice on anything much less a ship, and cyclones sweep thru these parts every year.  Many ships drag their anchor during big storms and wind up on a reef and break apart.  Compounding matters, often the crews are made up of local men and when a cyclone arrives, they abandon their ship to take care of their families. 

Tyler and I dove the wreck on a sunny morning.  I had never done that sort of diving before; it was a little spooky, given that at two people lost their lives.  The water wasn’t very clear, but we could see her lying broken on the bottom.  She was known as the Clan McClellan, a relatively large ship of a few hundred feet.  We explored the decks above 100ft in depth, seeing her railing and mast and thinking of the hopes that she carried with her and the tragedy of her demise.  

Going to Church in Neiafu: Religion is the center of community life in Polynesia, much like it is in the American south.  Here there is practically a church on every corner.   One Sunday we decided to go to church and see what a service in Neiafu was all about.  The church we visited was a Catholic Church.  It was built on the most prominent hill in the town and from the front looked like something you might find in Italy.  The façade was Italianate in design, very ornate with painted pictures of Christ on the bell tower.  It was built on a hill that required climbing about twenty five steps to reach the entrance, and the climb made the church all the more imposing.   Behind the facade was a more modest structure, sort of a pole barn with a white metal roof.  Inside were pews and a couple of statues and shrines, very typical of a modest Catholic church.  The service began when the choir started to sing, and that was something to behold and the real reason for our visit.  The choir constituted at least a quarter of the people in the church, but the quality of their singing was second to none.  They were terrific.  A procession then began when the priest, proceeded by a small retinue of elders and officiates, made their way down the aisle to the altar.  The church was packed and people were standing outside.    Men wore traditional Lava-lavas with a ta’ovala skirt wrapped around their waist.  The ta’ovala is a grass cloth traditional garb woven from mulberry tree bark as in the Samoan tapa making process that I wrote about in my Samoan blog.  The women were, of course, dressed in their finest, and they too wore a sort of grass skirt over their western dress, but much lacier and also made of tapa. Going to the church was a wonderful cultural experience for us. 

A Drive-about:  One of our friends, Adam Paskowitz Captain of Spirit of Adventure, mentioned that he had taken a dune buggy/go-cart tour on the back roads of Vava’U.   Rebecca and I thought it might be fun so we arranged for a tour.  The little company was run by a family of ex-pats trying to eke out a living in Neiafu.  We arrived at the appointed hour and we met our guide Joshua.  Joshua had grown up in New Zealand but had a Tongan father.  His father owned some property in town including a distillery of sorts, and at his death it became Joshua’s.   So Joshua came back to Tonga to claim his birthright. Things weren’t going all that well for him, but he knew the island well and spoke impeccable English, so off we went.

We should have known better as the cart was a death trap. I could hardly get into the thing, but anyway we rode over hill and dale, past the ubiquitous Moorman Church and basketball court, past the cemeteries with their huge quilts memorializing a recently deceased person, past the little hand tilled fields of taro, eventually finding the cow path Joshua was looking for.  This path took us several miles off the beaten track—through the dense jungle, past little subsistence farms to some of the most beautifully natural and unspoiled sights we have seen. One such place was a gorgeous cliff overlooking the sea.  The cliff had been eroded in a most unusual way by centuries of the relentless pounding of the sea.  About fifty feet above the sea was a huge circular hole about twenty feet in diameter in the cliff’s outcropping. On the prominence above it roosted hundreds of fox bats – fruit eating bats about a foot long that hung in the branches on the trees above.   

Ha’Apia Group: The Ha’Apia Group lies about 65 miles south of Vava’U.   We left our anchorage early in the morning and enjoyed a lovely cruise, one of the best we have experienced down to Ha’Apia.  It was a bright sunny day with calm seas and whales breaching along the way.  Our trip took about eight hours and we arrived at Haano Island.  Approaching these island takes great care and should only be done when the sunlight allows one to see all the coral heads and reefs.  We cautiously entered the anchorage with all hands focused on any signs of danger.  We were all very surprised by the geology of these islands compared to Vava’U; Ha’Apia Islands are flat sand atolls rising no more than five feet above the sea’s surface and covered in jungle and shrubs.   As I mentioned, surrounding the islands are extensive coral reefs, which makes them unpopular with boaters.  When we arrived we were the lone boat on the island.    After a pleasant and restful night at anchor, we went ashore the next morning to reconnoiter the little village of Haano.  Once ashore, we quickly appreciated that it had been terribly damaged by a cyclone the previous season.  As we walked through the little village, we saw men rebuilding a water tower, and some of the people whose homes were destroyed living in tents.  It was a very poor area in the best of times, but now it was devastated.  After walking about and greeting the people we met, we decided to move along to the next island of Lifuka and the capital pf Ha’Apia, Pangai Village.  

Tyler’s 30^th birthday:  We thought that Piangai would have a little more to offer, and since it was Tyler’s 30^th birthday we wanted to find a town with a suitable celebratory establishment.  We picked our way through the coral heads and reefs and anchored a mile or so offshore.  Our friends Jeff and Sherry on Grasshopper showed up in the anchorage shortly after we arrived to help celebrate, and we all went into Pangai Village.  The village itself was also heavily damaged by last January’s cyclone and people were living in very dilapidated circumstances.  The town seemed all but abandoned.  Dogs roamed the streets everywhere, which made us feel uneasy, particularly if they were to form packs.  As on other Polynesian islands, these dogs are a very sturdy breed and look to be part pit-bull.  On one street ten or fifteen of these dogs formed a pack and took off after a pig.  They nipped at it and badgered it.  Finally as they became more brazen and aggressive the pig must have sensed that the game could turn lethal at any moment, and with that, turned tail and outran the dogs in making its escape.  As we walked further along the only human activity we saw was centered on little food markets run by Chinese proprietors.  Older Tongans distrust the Chinese grocers because they sell alcohol to the young men, who in turn get drunk, rowdy, and fight.  As we turned the corner toward the Mariner’s Café, we heard a commotion and saw a serious fist fight erupt between two young men who had obviously been drinking.  We wanted to get away from the fight and the men who were hanging around watching, so we hurried on to the café only to find it closed.  A few minutes later the loser of the fight staggered by with the aid of an inebriated friend, his head bleeding profusely from a gash administered by his opponent with a wrench.  As soon as the little crowd disbursed, we headed back to Argo where Rebecca made a wonderful birthday dinner complete with filet minion, mashed potatoes, corn, and a fruit pie for dessert with candles for Tyler.  

The next day we moved south about thirty miles to the island of Haafava.  This island has a protected lagoon, like the Tuamotus. We entered the lagoon over a very narrow channel in the reef and anchored near the small dock the islanders use to bring in supplies.  The lagoon’s bottom was littered with coral heads and rocks, so Tyler stood lookout on the bow pulpit and we picked our way around until he found a patch of sand and we dropped anchor.  After settling down we found the area absolutely beautiful, but the wind was up and made for a rolling anchorage.  Tyler and Rebecca went for a swim and we all took the dingy for a spin later in the afternoon.  The view from Argo was absolutely beautiful.  We were surrounded by other islands and, more closely in, coral reefs.  The ocean swells were crashing on the reefs, and off in the distance we could see the silhouette of the only active volcano in Tonga, which made for a spectacular vista. 

As beautiful as it was, it was time to continue south toward Tongatapu and prepare for our passage to New Zealand.  Our wonderful friends Melanie and Curtis Hoff were meeting us in Nukualofa.  They planned on joining us for the final passage to New Zealand and the conclusion of our great adventure.  

Tongatapu Group: These are the main islands of the Kingdom of Tonga and site of its capitol Nuku’alofa.  The city is on the south side of a very large bay that is open to the north.  There are many reefs, coral heads and islands scattered about, but so far the charts have been accurate and we haven’t bumped into anything.  We anchored a little over a mile from the city’s docks and inner harbor, which are in a shambles and littered with sunken wrecks.  Several abandon, rusting Japanese fishing vessels are tied to a dock and bear witness to Tonga’s naval prowess; they confiscated the ships because the Japanese violated Tongan territorial waters.   We anchored off Pangiamotu Island at Big Mama’s Yacht Club.  Out front is a sunken bow of a large ship that went down here in a cyclone about twenty years ago. It acts as an artificial reef and attracts a lot of colorful fish.  People come out to see the fish, enjoy the beautiful beach and swim in the crystal clear water.  Mama is a very large lady, sort of like Aunt Jemima.  She owns the tikka bar here, which looks inviting, but the food is horrible.  At this end of the bay I counted nine partially sunken ships. 

To get to the city we took our tender about a mile and a half across the bay to the inner harbor, and then the inner-inner harbor or boat basin.  Instead of a proper, safe floating dock, they have taken scrapes of old wood and hobbled things together to build a walkway and floated it on old oil barrels.  It is rickety and wobbly.  The planks are unevenly spaced so that one could easily trip and fall through a space into the filthy water, or, if you get off center as Rebecca did, one end of a plank could give way; she nearly fell in.  Once the dock is negotiated the main road to town is near at hand, and the town center is about a fifteen minute walk.  Along the paved road are venders selling fruits and vegetables, taro, watermelons and fire wood; hundreds of neatly stacked piles of cut wood for cooking fires are stacked next to the road.  This is in contrast to optical fiber cable being installed along one of the main streets downtown.   

Like the harbor, Nukualofa suffers from aesthetic deprivation.  It is shabby and without many of the staples of everyday life that we had hoped to find here.  They have a very fine farmer’s market with all sorts of things we haven’t seen on other islands, like lettuce.  I was looking around for a Tonga cap, and asked the local cap embroiderer where I could find one or if he could make one for me? He looked at me as though I were nuts.  Who wants a Tonga hat?  All their caps have American or other foreign sports’ team logos on them.  ­­­­­­­Here, people identify with the west.

The next day we took a tour of the island.  I have put pictures of these sights on www.tischtravels.com. The first stop was the Royal Palace (19^th century Victorian style summer home), then the Royal Tombs (it looks like a normal Tongan cemetery, where the soil is mounded over the body, but large stone statues of the deceased kings in European military garb stand over the graves). There were several beautiful coastal sites to see including blow holes and natural arches, and finally the Ha’amonga Trilithon, which is an ancient stone arch similar in some ways to Stone Hedge, which marked the ceremonial center where the Tu’iTonga presided.  Every village has at least one Moorman school, basketball court and meeting hall, and maybe a Catholic and or Wesleyan Methodist Church.   There are also the odd Seventh Day Adventist and Jehovah’s Witnesses’ meeting halls as well.   In Tonga the haves live well, the rest are serfs.

Leaving Tonga:  Our friends Melanie and Curtis Hoff joined us in Nuku’alofa for the ride south to New Zealand.  It was very symbolic in the sense that they came down to Stuart, Florida and waved good-bye to us from the bridge as we left America, and now they were joining us on our final leg of the journey to New Zealand.   Because the trip to New Zealand is long and fraught with the possibility of difficult seas, we offered them the chance to just meet us in Auckland, but they wanted to come along and we were very happy to have them. The Hoffs are boaters who have cruised the U.S. East Coast extensively, so we all studied the weather files and decided unanimously to leave as soon as possible after fueling Wednesday at noon.  Our passage involved threading the needle between three potential storms that were expected to form while we were at sea.  A low was due to make its way across our course bringing with it very high winds and high seas (13ft.), but if we left Tonga on Wednesday afternoon we felt there was a good chance that we could get south of it.  Tonga offers us the possibility of buying tax free fuel if we buy it on the way out, so Wednesday morning we hooved to a crumbling cement dock at the harbor (after helping an itinerate boater move to a mooring) and arranged to take on fuel.  To get the tax free permit we had to check out of the country with customs, which meant checking out with immigration (whose office was across town), then to the Harbor Master’s office to pay port charges (a real rip off at about $200 USD for a week at anchor), then to the Total Petroleum facility with $14,000 in Tongan cash.  My pockets were bulging with money, but that is the only way they do business.  To get the Tongan money, we had to go to the bank on Monday and convert our dollars.  Lucky for us, in Tonga you can convert without charge up to $10,000 Tongan per person.  So Rebecca and I each took USD’s and converted it so that we had enough to pay Total.  The tax free fuel price was the equivalent of $3.90 per gallon, which wasn’t too bad (they sell it in liters and we bought about 8,000 liters).

The fuel truck was due at noon, but arrived about an hour late (it’s on Tongan Time), and it took about an hour to fuel; in the end Argo was full!   We left Nuku’alofa on the incoming tide at about 14:30 on September 24 bound for Auckland, New Zealand and the end of our voyage. 

Our next Captain’s Log describes our experience with a Force Ten Gale on our way to Auckland.

CAPTAIN’S LOG                     August 21 to September 30, 2014

The Kingdom of Tonga          Vava’U – Ha’Apia – Tongatapu   

 

Samoa to Vava’U: Our 320 mile trip down to Tonga from Samoa was a rough ride, with swells from the east in the 8-10 foot range.  ARGO handles high seas very well, our stabilizers keep her from rolling or yawing very much, but the constant pitching and movement was unpleasant.   It was a beam sea, and some of the swells were so large that we rolled to starboard as they began to pass under us, then leveled at the crest, and then rolled to port and slid down the back side of the wave sideways as it passed under us.  Of course we didn’t leave Samoa without a weather forecast, but it was dead wrong.   Unfortunately a trough had formed and it was blowing around 30 knots for the whole voyage.   No one felt well during the trip, and I got a good dose of sea sickness to boot.  It’s passages like this that make us think fondly of spending our time in a plush hotel in Provence!

Arrival at Neiafu:  We arrived at the town of Neiafu on the Island of Vava’U at 0700 and tied to the custom’s dock.  Before our lines were secured, the immigration, health and customs agents were on the dock and ready for business.   After filling out the customary forms and paying about $100 in various fees, we went ashore.   It wasn’t long before we had arranged telephone service, bought fresh vegetables from the farmers’ market near the dock, and made a short walk down Main Street to see what Neiafu was all about.  What we found was a rag-tag collection of a few stores, three banks, a Western Union office, several bars, restaurants, churches, and souvenir shops.  Neiafu is a waypoint for boaters who are either going south to Tongatapu and New Zealand, or westward to Fiji.   The harbor is very large, clear blue, and deep.  It can accommodate any size ship that can make it past the narrow channel in the reef at its entrance.  When we arrived, there were about thirty boats on mooring balls in the harbor.  At anchor in the western end of the harbor was Paul Allen’s 225 ft. yacht Meduse, one of several he owns.  Along the waterfront were a selection of bars and restaurants, however the Aquarium Restaurant seemed to be the gathering spot for most of the boaters.  Mike, its American owner, was a congenial fellow who gladly provided information about the island and help with anything anyone needed. 

Late in the morning we moved to an anchorage just west of town and anchored in 95 feet of water near Meduse.   Rumor had it that some big shot like Bill Gates was coming, but no one showed up while we were there.  Not to be outdone, we had our own personage to welcome aboard at Neiafu.  Just as we dropped anchor, Mike from the Aquarium called on the VHF to tell us that our intrepid friend Reid Sherard had arrived and was at his dockside restaurant waiting for us to pick him up.  Reid had flown 36 hours from Los Angeles to Auckland, then to Nuku’alofa, and finally on to Neiafu.  He actually arrived a day ahead of schedule.   With him were two bottles of vodka and three printer cartridges (which are unique to the U.S.).  It was great to see our old friend. 

Meanwhile back on Argo, Tyler was diligently washing the sea salt off and readying her for company.   Giving Argo a bath is a lot of work and takes an entire day. We are very lucky to have Tyler onboard; Tyler takes a great deal of pride in his work and makes this yacht shine like no other!  He is a great asset to us!

The weather in Vava’U was in some ways a welcome relief from the searing heat and high humidity we had experienced since leaving Jamaica six months ago.  For the first time we didn’t need air conditioning.   The Tongans told us that it was unseasonable cold:  the temperature was consistently about 77⁰, humidity in the high 60’s, and the sea water temperature was 78⁰.  Despite this perfect combination of factors, the wind blew at 20 mph for days making the water a little too rough and cloudy to enjoy water sports or riding about in the dingy.  This is springtime in this part of the world and transitional weather patterns brought more clouds and wind than usual.  We were disappointed that Reid didn’t have better conditions given the long trip he made to get here.

We found Neiafu to be a very pleasant place with friendly people who were helpful and kind.  Many boating friends that we had met along the way were also there, so we spent a few enjoyable evenings catching up and hearing about their experiences.   Altogether we spent eighteen days at anchor diving, touring the island, talking with friends, whale snorkeling, going to church, feasting, and enjoying all that is. 

The Kingdom of Tonga: The Vava’U Group is the northern most archipelago of the Kingdom of Tonga.  The Kingdom is made up of three island groups: Vava’U to the north, Ha’Apia, in the center lying 60 miles south of Vava’U, and Tongatapu, the third archipelago that lies 60 miles south of Ha’Apia and is home to the kingdom’s capital city, Nuku’alofa.  Altogether the three groups stretch about 160 miles from north to south along the Tonga Ridge, which is formed by the meeting of the Australian and Pacific Plates in the South Pacific Ocean.  Tonga is thought to be moving eastward at 25 cm per year and is gradually sinking into the ocean.

Unlike all the other islands of Polynesia, The Kingdom of Tonga has never been colonized by Westerners.  Tonga is governed by a king who enjoys all the regalia that goes with a monarchy: e.g., nobles, royal lands, money minted with the king’s image on it, royal tombs, a palace, and of course, ownership of the key money making enterprises.  Originally the three island groups were each governed by a Tu’iTonga, a man/god chief.  The Tu’iTonga on Ha’Apia with the help of the Wesleyan Methodists and the British Navy, attacked the Tu’iTonga on Tongatapu and in the twenty year war overthrew him and established a kingdom modeled on the British monarchy.  The chiefs who supported him were made nobles and the Methodist Church and the British were granted special rights.  The king named himself George I (all kings are named George and today we have George VI).  He proclaimed that all land was owned by God and given to him by God for safe keeping.  Of course he took the prime and largest cuts for himself, his cronies, and the Wesleyan Methodists.  Even today all land in Tonga is owned by the king, but some time ago the king granted title to eight acre parcels to individual Tongan males.  Woman may not own land.   

The country has a constitution established in the mid 1800’s.   Until 2006 the king was more or less an absolute monarch and ruled a nation of about 103,000 people.  There were riots and the burning of buildings in 2006 as Tongans demanded greater democratization of the government, but it isn’t clear that anything of substance has changed, although it now has a parliament. 

There are estimated to be about 70,000 Tongans living abroad who send money back to their families in Tonga and this constitutes the largest source of foreign revenue for the country.  About 70,000 people live in the capital of Nukualofa, about 15,000 live on Vava’U, and the balance live on other islands.  Land can only be titled to Tongans, however “squatter’s rights” comes into play when a person moves onto land that no one is paying attention to and resides there for ten years or more.  The original owner loses title.  A Tongan must appear in person on his land at least once every ten years and chase any squatters off or risk losing it.  If a “palangi” (a white person) wishes to acquire property, it can only be leased from a Tongan or noble and leases must be approved by parliament and the king.  Leases are easily obtained and the lessee will eventually get a copy of the lease with the king’s signature and the royal seal in wax at the bottom.  Leases can extend up to fifty years.

As in Samoa, families are large (average ten children) and those members that are ambitious are encouraged to migrate abroad and send money home.  By and large I don’t think Tongans are a very motivated lot, although they are very friendly.   The country is very poor and the brighter people head for Australia, New Zealand or the U.S. if they can get a visa, which is increasingly had to come by.  Most countries feel that they have enough islander immigrants, particularly as some Tongans abroad have been pushed into crime to meet the financial demands of their families at home.  Title to land is devised on a primo-genitor basis, so if you are not the first born male you might as well leave for greener pastures.   Of course at least one lucky soul is obligated to stay home and take care of mom, dad, grandma, and keep an eye on the family’s property.   Despite their obvious poverty, few beg or go hungry.  Tongans take care of each other and are deeply committed to their family.  Tongans seem to be proud people; they have their islands, their heritage, and their religions.  They also have a Western Union office in almost every village of any size, and its sign is the only one in good repair. Aside from having children, they raise pigs and chickens (raise is too strong a verb as they just let them run about and grab one for dinner as needed), cultivate small gardens of taro, kava, bananas, carrots and whatever else will grow.  Most of the land I saw under cultivation was done by human labor: no beasts of burden or tractors.  Driving around the whole island I saw four tractors and one horse.  Undoubtedly there are a few more, but most land is cultivated on small plots on a human scale.  All this is supplemented by fish the men catch. 

The climate here is more temperate than all the other islands we have visited, and for the first time we have seen fruits and vegetables that we are more accustomed to seeing at home.   Each village has at least one church, and Sunday is an observed day of rest, religion, family and feast.  Their school system has managed to teach the English language to almost everyone over the last twenty five years.  The government provides primary school, and the religious sects, particularly Moorman and Wesleyan Methodist, provide secondary schools, although you have to belong to the church and tithe in order to send your children to the church’s school.  Driving around the countryside, you can see large noble estates, but most parcels are about eight acres in size and cultivated by a family for subsistence.  The churches in Tonga are shamefully medieval in the power and wealth the clergy wields, and in the way people are forced to give money to them.  The Mormons seem to be very aggressive and have built a facility at virtually every cross road.  Homes are very basic except for those of the local church ministers or government officials. Large houses (the size of a typical American suburban home) are either owned by nobles or church ministers.  The villages are not kept up as they are in the other parts of Polynesia, and on the smaller islands of the Ha’Apia Group cyclone damage from last summer’s storms is considerable.

Vava’U Group:   Coming into Vava’U was very different than the other islands we had visited during the last six months.  The island is not volcanic.  It is a coral island rising abruptly about 300 feet from the ocean’s surface to a flat plain that is covered in dense jungle.  From the sea, the islands look like huge stone monoliths with dramatic cliffs; beaches are present only where the cliffs give way to a little bay or indentations in the rock.  The water is crystal clear, and the bays and passages between the islands are deep sapphire blue and the islands colorful.  Here, in the shelter of the islands and the warm waters of the Mid-Pacific Ocean, Humpback Whales come to give birth and breed each year.

Whales:  Vava’U is most well-known for “swimming with whales”.  There are two or three outfitters who are licensed to take tourist on “whale dives”.   A dive is actually a surface snorkel and is an all day ordeal in which eight or so snorkelers accompany a guide, four at a time into the water to swim next to a cow and calf (usually).  Males are difficult to swim with because they are on the move and are often breaching or pushing each other around in an effort to attract the attention of a female (what’s new?).  Would-be swimmers wear wet suits and ride around for hours in the open boat until an appropriate female and calf are spotted.  Then the boat stops a hundred yards or so from the mother, and if she doesn’t swim off, four snorkelers at a time quietly enter the water with a guide and swim over to within fifteen or twenty feet of the whale.   Females with newborns often rest for part of the day so as to let the little one nurse and safely play.  As you swim toward the leviathan you can see how big these creatures are; 100 plus tons suspended just at the water’s surface with the majority of their body hanging perhaps 100 or more feet below.  You first see their giant black backs with a prominent spine, as you look downward you see the spine lead to the tail a hundred feet or so below in the blue water.  The black upper body changes to a white underside with huge folds in its skin.  The breathing hole is at the water’s surface and is about one third of the length of the body and behind the head.  Forward of the breathing hole the head rests suspended in fifteen or so feet of water and is a strange, but familiar shape.  The eyes are on the side of the head well back of its huge jaw line that is covered in barnacle like growths.  The little calf swims about its mother turning and twisting as it goes, and then pausing for refreshment if desired.  Calves drink about 50 gallons of a yogurt type mother’s milk each day and grow rapidly.  The adjective “little” really doesn’t apply as they can be thousands of pounds within weeks.  During our dives we were within ten or fifteen feet of these huge, beautiful animals.  On one of our dives we spent perhaps a half an hour within feet of a mother and calf.  The baby came so close to us and was so frisky I thought it might injure us, not knowing its own youthful strength.  After all the divers returned to the boat and were drying off, we watched the mother and baby at the surface of the water.  I saw the mother’s tale flukes rise high in the air, an indication of a deep dive.  I assumed she was leaving.  We were only a hundred yards or so from her.  A moment or two later she erupted straight up out of the sea, turning her immense body laterally over in the air, and then crashed down yards from our boat. It was awesome…spell binding…breathtaking…like nothing we had ever seen or imagined.  It was as though she was offering us one last glimpse into her world.  After a few moments to collect our wits, we departed thankful for the experience and emotionally closer to our origins in the natural world.  

The whale’s world underwater in Vava’U is silent, tranquil, warm and slow moving.  Occasionally you can hear the whales sing.  Sometimes you can see the males breaching, or pushing each other about in a contest of strength, or, more aggressively, slamming each other with their giant heads in an attempt to prove dominance.  For them this is not play, but the vital, essential business of life.  It’s also no place to snorkel!

We have posted videos and pictures of our whale dives on www.tischtravels.com

Feasts:  Like Samoans, Tongans love a feast.  Aside from their private Sunday family gatherings, entrepreneurs offer feasts to tourists several days a week at different locations around the islands.  We decided to go to one on Sunday at the En’toi Botanical Garden.  The proprietors picked us up in their rickety old, filthy van and drove across the island through the little villages with the shiny new Moorman facilities to their sea side establishment.  The owner, Halima (?), was celebrating his 69^th birthday that day, so the feast was preceded by a speech in which he recalled growing up in the village and not knowing anything about the outside world, not even that it was round.  He thanked providence for his good fortune to become the Assistant Secretary of Agriculture during his career, for his wonderful children, and apologized to his wife Lucy for being less than a perfect husband.  With that, the feast was underway and one by one the eager guests proceeded to the buffet and began selecting from a variety of Tongan dishes including suckling pig, curried fish, poultry, taro, bread fruit, curried vegetables, and other dishes.  After the feast, I looked about and saw several pictures of Halima during his career meeting Pope John Paul in Rome in the company of other Tongan dignitaries including HRH the King.  He told me that he had actually met the Pope twice, and many other dignitaries from around the world as well.  Not bad for a country not bigger than a small town in mid-America!

Our 25^th Wedding Anniversary:  We celebrated our 25^th wedding anniversary here in Tonga.  Rebecca found a nice resort established a few years ago by a sail boating couple from Switzerland who were apparently ready for life on the hard.  Normally they are booked several weeks in advance, but somehow Rebecca got us in.  Kathryn had called them from NYC to try to arrange a surprise, like a bottle of champagne or a local musician to play for us, but nothing like that was available in Tonga.  We moved ARGO to an anchorage off shore and dingied in for a lovely dinner complete with a table cloth and a beautiful flower centerpiece.  Rebecca’s dish was quite interesting: a whole red snapper split down the back from head to tail and baked.  It was very artistic as it looked like a large, pink, spiral ribbon.  It was delicious.

Diving the Ship Wreck:  Just west of our anchorage at Neiafu was a wreck that sunk about twenty years ago in 125 feet of water.  This ship apparently had caught on fire and the captain and engineer stayed aboard to try and save her. Both died when she sank.  Wrecks are common in this part of the world. In Nuku’alofa we counted nine wrecks in the harbor.  In the third world maintenance is not a valued practice on anything much less a ship, and cyclones sweep thru these parts every year.  Many ships drag their anchor during big storms and wind up on a reef and break apart.  Compounding matters, often the crews are made up of local men and when a cyclone arrives, they abandon their ship to take care of their families. 

Tyler and I dove the wreck on a sunny morning.  I had never done that sort of diving before; it was a little spooky, given that at two people lost their lives.  The water wasn’t very clear, but we could see her lying broken on the bottom.  She was known as the Clan McClellan, a relatively large ship of a few hundred feet.  We explored the decks above 100ft in depth, seeing her railing and mast and thinking of the hopes that she carried with her and the tragedy of her demise.  

Going to Church in Neiafu: Religion is the center of community life in Polynesia, much like it is in the American south.  Here there is practically a church on every corner.   One Sunday we decided to go to church and see what a service in Neiafu was all about.  The church we visited was a Catholic Church.  It was built on the most prominent hill in the town and from the front looked like something you might find in Italy.  The façade was Italianate in design, very ornate with painted pictures of Christ on the bell tower.  It was built on a hill that required climbing about twenty five steps to reach the entrance, and the climb made the church all the more imposing.   Behind the facade was a more modest structure, sort of a pole barn with a white metal roof.  Inside were pews and a couple of statues and shrines, very typical of a modest Catholic church.  The service began when the choir started to sing, and that was something to behold and the real reason for our visit.  The choir constituted at least a quarter of the people in the church, but the quality of their singing was second to none.  They were terrific.  A procession then began when the priest, proceeded by a small retinue of elders and officiates, made their way down the aisle to the altar.  The church was packed and people were standing outside.    Men wore traditional Lava-lavas with a ta’ovala skirt wrapped around their waist.  The ta’ovala is a grass cloth traditional garb woven from mulberry tree bark as in the Samoan tapa making process that I wrote about in my Samoan blog.  The women were, of course, dressed in their finest, and they too wore a sort of grass skirt over their western dress, but much lacier and also made of tapa. Going to the church was a wonderful cultural experience for us. 

A Drive-about:  One of our friends, Adam Paskowitz Captain of Spirit of Adventure, mentioned that he had taken a dune buggy/go-cart tour on the back roads of Vava’U.   Rebecca and I thought it might be fun so we arranged for a tour.  The little company was run by a family of ex-pats trying to eke out a living in Neiafu.  We arrived at the appointed hour and we met our guide Joshua.  Joshua had grown up in New Zealand but had a Tongan father.  His father owned some property in town including a distillery of sorts, and at his death it became Joshua’s.   So Joshua came back to Tonga to claim his birthright. Things weren’t going all that well for him, but he knew the island well and spoke impeccable English, so off we went.

We should have known better as the cart was a death trap. I could hardly get into the thing, but anyway we rode over hill and dale, past the ubiquitous Moorman Church and basketball court, past the cemeteries with their huge quilts memorializing a recently deceased person, past the little hand tilled fields of taro, eventually finding the cow path Joshua was looking for.  This path took us several miles off the beaten track—through the dense jungle, past little subsistence farms to some of the most beautifully natural and unspoiled sights we have seen. One such place was a gorgeous cliff overlooking the sea.  The cliff had been eroded in a most unusual way by centuries of the relentless pounding of the sea.  About fifty feet above the sea was a huge circular hole about twenty feet in diameter in the cliff’s outcropping. On the prominence above it roosted hundreds of fox bats – fruit eating bats about a foot long that hung in the branches on the trees above.   

Ha’Apia Group: The Ha’Apia Group lies about 65 miles south of Vava’U.   We left our anchorage early in the morning and enjoyed a lovely cruise, one of the best we have experienced down to Ha’Apia.  It was a bright sunny day with calm seas and whales breaching along the way.  Our trip took about eight hours and we arrived at Haano Island.  Approaching these island takes great care and should only be done when the sunlight allows one to see all the coral heads and reefs.  We cautiously entered the anchorage with all hands focused on any signs of danger.  We were all very surprised by the geology of these islands compared to Vava’U; Ha’Apia Islands are flat sand atolls rising no more than five feet above the sea’s surface and covered in jungle and shrubs.   As I mentioned, surrounding the islands are extensive coral reefs, which makes them unpopular with boaters.  When we arrived we were the lone boat on the island.    After a pleasant and restful night at anchor, we went ashore the next morning to reconnoiter the little village of Haano.  Once ashore, we quickly appreciated that it had been terribly damaged by a cyclone the previous season.  As we walked through the little village, we saw men rebuilding a water tower, and some of the people whose homes were destroyed living in tents.  It was a very poor area in the best of times, but now it was devastated.  After walking about and greeting the people we met, we decided to move along to the next island of Lifuka and the capital pf Ha’Apia, Pangai Village.  

Tyler’s 30^th birthday:  We thought that Piangai would have a little more to offer, and since it was Tyler’s 30^th birthday we wanted to find a town with a suitable celebratory establishment.  We picked our way through the coral heads and reefs and anchored a mile or so offshore.  Our friends Jeff and Sherry on Grasshopper showed up in the anchorage shortly after we arrived to help celebrate, and we all went into Pangai Village.  The village itself was also heavily damaged by last January’s cyclone and people were living in very dilapidated circumstances.  The town seemed all but abandoned.  Dogs roamed the streets everywhere, which made us feel uneasy, particularly if they were to form packs.  As on other Polynesian islands, these dogs are a very sturdy breed and look to be part pit-bull.  On one street ten or fifteen of these dogs formed a pack and took off after a pig.  They nipped at it and badgered it.  Finally as they became more brazen and aggressive the pig must have sensed that the game could turn lethal at any moment, and with that, turned tail and outran the dogs in making its escape.  As we walked further along the only human activity we saw was centered on little food markets run by Chinese proprietors.  Older Tongans distrust the Chinese grocers because they sell alcohol to the young men, who in turn get drunk, rowdy, and fight.  As we turned the corner toward the Mariner’s Café, we heard a commotion and saw a serious fist fight erupt between two young men who had obviously been drinking.  We wanted to get away from the fight and the men who were hanging around watching, so we hurried on to the café only to find it closed.  A few minutes later the loser of the fight staggered by with the aid of an inebriated friend, his head bleeding profusely from a gash administered by his opponent with a wrench.  As soon as the little crowd disbursed, we headed back to Argo where Rebecca made a wonderful birthday dinner complete with filet minion, mashed potatoes, corn, and a fruit pie for dessert with candles for Tyler.  

The next day we moved south about thirty miles to the island of Haafava.  This island has a protected lagoon, like the Tuamotus. We entered the lagoon over a very narrow channel in the reef and anchored near the small dock the islanders use to bring in supplies.  The lagoon’s bottom was littered with coral heads and rocks, so Tyler stood lookout on the bow pulpit and we picked our way around until he found a patch of sand and we dropped anchor.  After settling down we found the area absolutely beautiful, but the wind was up and made for a rolling anchorage.  Tyler and Rebecca went for a swim and we all took the dingy for a spin later in the afternoon.  The view from Argo was absolutely beautiful.  We were surrounded by other islands and, more closely in, coral reefs.  The ocean swells were crashing on the reefs, and off in the distance we could see the silhouette of the only active volcano in Tonga, which made for a spectacular vista. 

As beautiful as it was, it was time to continue south toward Tongatapu and prepare for our passage to New Zealand.  Our wonderful friends Melanie and Curtis Hoff were meeting us in Nukualofa.  They planned on joining us for the final passage to New Zealand and the conclusion of our great adventure.  

Tongatapu Group: These are the main islands of the Kingdom of Tonga and site of its capitol Nuku’alofa.  The city is on the south side of a very large bay that is open to the north.  There are many reefs, coral heads and islands scattered about, but so far the charts have been accurate and we haven’t bumped into anything.  We anchored a little over a mile from the city’s docks and inner harbor, which are in a shambles and littered with sunken wrecks.  Several abandon, rusting Japanese fishing vessels are tied to a dock and bear witness to Tonga’s naval prowess; they confiscated the ships because the Japanese violated Tongan territorial waters.   We anchored off Pangiamotu Island at Big Mama’s Yacht Club.  Out front is a sunken bow of a large ship that went down here in a cyclone about twenty years ago. It acts as an artificial reef and attracts a lot of colorful fish.  People come out to see the fish, enjoy the beautiful beach and swim in the crystal clear water.  Mama is a very large lady, sort of like Aunt Jemima.  She owns the tikka bar here, which looks inviting, but the food is horrible.  At this end of the bay I counted nine partially sunken ships. 

To get to the city we took our tender about a mile and a half across the bay to the inner harbor, and then the inner-inner harbor or boat basin.  Instead of a proper, safe floating dock, they have taken scrapes of old wood and hobbled things together to build a walkway and floated it on old oil barrels.  It is rickety and wobbly.  The planks are unevenly spaced so that one could easily trip and fall through a space into the filthy water, or, if you get off center as Rebecca did, one end of a plank could give way; she nearly fell in.  Once the dock is negotiated the main road to town is near at hand, and the town center is about a fifteen minute walk.  Along the paved road are venders selling fruits and vegetables, taro, watermelons and fire wood; hundreds of neatly stacked piles of cut wood for cooking fires are stacked next to the road.  This is in contrast to optical fiber cable being installed along one of the main streets downtown.   

Like the harbor, Nukualofa suffers from aesthetic deprivation.  It is shabby and without many of the staples of everyday life that we had hoped to find here.  They have a very fine farmer’s market with all sorts of things we haven’t seen on other islands, like lettuce.  I was looking around for a Tonga cap, and asked the local cap embroiderer where I could find one or if he could make one for me? He looked at me as though I were nuts.  Who wants a Tonga hat?  All their caps have American or other foreign sports’ team logos on them.  ­­­­­­­Here, people identify with the west.

The next day we took a tour of the island.  I have put pictures of these sights on www.tischtravels.com. The first stop was the Royal Palace (19^th century Victorian style summer home), then the Royal Tombs (it looks like a normal Tongan cemetery, where the soil is mounded over the body, but large stone statues of the deceased kings in European military garb stand over the graves). There were several beautiful coastal sites to see including blow holes and natural arches, and finally the Ha’amonga Trilithon, which is an ancient stone arch similar in some ways to Stone Hedge, which marked the ceremonial center where the Tu’iTonga presided.  Every village has at least one Moorman school, basketball court and meeting hall, and maybe a Catholic and or Wesleyan Methodist Church.   There are also the odd Seventh Day Adventist and Jehovah’s Witnesses’ meeting halls as well.   In Tonga the haves live well, the rest are serfs.

Leaving Tonga:  Our friends Melanie and Curtis Hoff joined us in Nuku’alofa for the ride south to New Zealand.  It was very symbolic in the sense that they came down to Stuart, Florida and waved good-bye to us from the bridge as we left America, and now they were joining us on our final leg of the journey to New Zealand.   Because the trip to New Zealand is long and fraught with the possibility of difficult seas, we offered them the chance to just meet us in Auckland, but they wanted to come along and we were very happy to have them. The Hoffs are boaters who have cruised the U.S. East Coast extensively, so we all studied the weather files and decided unanimously to leave as soon as possible after fueling Wednesday at noon.  Our passage involved threading the needle between three potential storms that were expected to form while we were at sea.  A low was due to make its way across our course bringing with it very high winds and high seas (13ft.), but if we left Tonga on Wednesday afternoon we felt there was a good chance that we could get south of it.  Tonga offers us the possibility of buying tax free fuel if we buy it on the way out, so Wednesday morning we hooved to a crumbling cement dock at the harbor (after helping an itinerate boater move to a mooring) and arranged to take on fuel.  To get the tax free permit we had to check out of the country with customs, which meant checking out with immigration (whose office was across town), then to the Harbor Master’s office to pay port charges (a real rip off at about $200 USD for a week at anchor), then to the Total Petroleum facility with $14,000 in Tongan cash.  My pockets were bulging with money, but that is the only way they do business.  To get the Tongan money, we had to go to the bank on Monday and convert our dollars.  Lucky for us, in Tonga you can convert without charge up to $10,000 Tongan per person.  So Rebecca and I each took USD’s and converted it so that we had enough to pay Total.  The tax free fuel price was the equivalent of $3.90 per gallon, which wasn’t too bad (they sell it in liters and we bought about 8,000 liters).

The fuel truck was due at noon, but arrived about an hour late (it’s on Tongan Time), and it took about an hour to fuel; in the end Argo was full!   We left Nuku’alofa on the incoming tide at about 14:30 on September 24 bound for Auckland, New Zealand and the end of our voyage. 

Our next Captain’s Log describes our experience with a Force Ten Gale on our way to Auckland.

CAPTAIN’S LOG   September 21-29, 2014

Encountering a Force Ten Gale

At Sea in South Pacific off the coast of New Zealand: Leaving Tongatapu required negotiating the channel between the reefs and Eau Island to the east.  The channel was boiling with an inrushing tidal current the severity of which we hadn’t seen since cruising Desolation Sound in British Columbia in 2011.  Once outside the channel we could see the waves crashing on shore and the blow holes spouting huge mists of water in the air.  After about an hour we reached the open sea and the real show began; the largest swells I have ever seen and only imagined came rolling toward us.  They were somewhere around 20ft high on a moment of 12sec.   They were massive mountains of water rolling at 30 mph under our keel.  It was truly a spectacular, awesome, spellbinding sight!  Argo was first lifted up by the waves, then she rolled over the top and came running down the backside.  It really looked like a somewhat smaller version of the waves shown in the movie The Perfect Storm.  Despite the size of the swells, our travel over them was pleasant due to their long moment.  Swells of that size are both things of beauty and amazement, and at the same time, terrifying.  As we moved along, the seas subsided to a more normal state; we had twenty knots of wind and 8 -12 ft. seas on the forward port quarter for the balance of the day.  We all took meclizine to combat sea sickness and as a result we were all sleepy, but not sick.  I slept like a baby as Tyler stood the night watch.  My crew mates, however, reported not sleeping so well that first night.

The next day things began to calm down and by the second full day our passage was very pleasant.  We downloaded a weather file from the satellite and confirmed that we were on track to avoid the worst of the storms that lay ahead.  The current in this part of the ocean can be as high as 2 knots on our nose.  It must be because of the upwelling of cold water from the Tongan Trench, which is one of the deepest parts of the ocean at 32,000 feet deep.  We ramped up our RPMs to 1500 to try and maintain a speed of at least 8 knots, but often we would barely make 7 knots.  We tried to maintain as much speed as possible to sneak past the rough weather emerging to our south; occasionally we made over 9 knots when the current slacked off.  During the third, fourth, and fifth day the ocean was like a lake, but our weather files showed the potential for rough seas as we approached New Zealand.  We made plans to alter our course for the northern port of Opua if things turned sour.  Meanwhile Rebecca and Melanie were cooking up some fantastic meals in the galley.  Before we made landfall in New Zealand, we had to eat all our meat and vegetables or the kiwis would confiscate it. 

Force Ten Gale:  Around 11:00 on September 29, with only 60 miles to go to Great Barrier Island, the radar picked up the image of a storm ahead.  The seas were calm, the barometer was 1014, and the wind was only 10 knots.  The forecasts had been very accurate during our passage and we were updating them four times a day via satellite.  We anticipated seas of 10-12 ft., which is no big deal for Argo; as it turned out, the actual weather we confronted was twice that forecast.  I put a picture of the weather chart on www.tischtravels.com so you can see what we wound up facing.  By 12:00 the seas had changed direction and were building as expected, and the wind was nearly 20 knots.  By 14:00 the wind was about 45 knots +/-, and the seas continued to build.  By 15:00 the winds were sustained over 45 knots and mostly in the 50 to 60 knot range, with top winds at 63.3 knots.  Seas became tremendous at 20 to 30 feet at 8 to 12 seconds.  They were huge, steep; mountains of water stair stepped by the ferocious wind, rolling toward us at 30 mph, sucking the water up from beneath and leaving in their wake a deep and treacherous valley.  The wind roared in a frightening howl, the ocean was a tumultuous, angry caldron.  I tried to position Argo to quarter the waves.  Suddenly a massive rogue wave slammed over our bow into the pilothouse windows.   My adrenaline shot up.  By now the wind was over 60 knots and I began to contemplate an emergency scenario.  At this point everyone was in the pilothouse helping me evaluate options; lucky for us Curtis Hoff has a PhD in marine engineering and many years of boating experience.   His council was very helpful.  I asked Tyler to call the Coast Guard and report our position; ultimately we reported to Maritime Radio Great Barrier Island every hour until we reached safe waters nine hours later.  In the meantime I focused on sea keeping issues; guiding Argo in a direction and speed that prevented her from being broadsided by one of those giant waves, or falling into a trough and pitch-polling.  From the pilot house we could see the giants coming our way; at first we could look up to the waves’ crest above our roof line.  It seemed as though they were going to crash into us, but then we would roll to starboard, be lifted to the top, see the combing crest and watch the crest flow under us.  We would then fall off the back of the wave, roll modestly to our port side and slide down into the trough.  Argo performed perfectly.  After a half hour or so we became concerned that by quartering the waves on our bow we were inextricably moving into the storm.  By this time we had been in the storm about 5 hours.  We hoped the wind would subside and the storm would blow out to sea, but instead it was intensifying.  We had to turn around and try to approximate a course toward land.  We discussed the pros and cons of coming about in these dangerous seas, but in the end I decided to take the risk. Turning is perhaps the most dangerous maneuver a captain can execute in a storm of this severity, but we had to do it.  The sun was setting and we didn’t want to lose the light.  We looked for a softening of the waves and found a moment in which to bring her about and put her stern to the waves.  Although we were afraid she might be breached over the stern or take a wave broadside, that never happened.  In fact, after the turn, Argo road the seas more comfortably than before.  We stayed on this course for about an hour.  By now it was 1900 and we had been in the storm for 6 hours, but we were much more confident in Argo and our ability to survive and ride out the storm.  At this point I decide we had to return to our original course, which would take us to the outer fringes of the storm and eventually to Auckland, but this required another turnabout.   After executing the turn, we were finally on course for Auckland again.  Argo was riding relatively well given the circumstances.  The sun had set, it was pitch black outside and the wind was screeching; we had five hours to go!  An hour or so later Tyler reported that the sea water pump for the hydraulic system had stopped functioning.  Without this pump the hydraulic system would soon overheat, we would lose our stabilizers, and we would be in serious, perhaps catastrophic danger.  Once again I had to turn Argo stern-to and position her so that we could turn off the stabilizers before they closed down due to overheating.  I found that Argo was most stable in this position.  So we turned on our spot light, determined the exact wave direction, waited for the right moment and initiated the turn with wide open throttle.  She made the turn between waves quickly and we found a very stable position for her to assume.  Tyler sprang into action:  he removed the strainer and the cover plate to the impeller: everything was OK.  Then he took the input hose off the heat exchanger thinking that perhaps it sucked in some air and became air locked; again everything seemed OK.  So we turned the system back on and, thank God, it worked.  At this point we needed to turn Argo back into the waves and resume our course toward Great Barrier Island and safe anchorage still five hours away.  Now it was pitch dark on the ocean.  We were in the middle of this terrible storm and waves were coming at us.   Argo road the waves perfectly, up and down, up and down.  Once in a while a rogue wave would slam us near the stern and spin us off course, but Argo took the pounding and we moved relentlessly toward safe harbor.  Every hour we called Maritime Radio to report our position and to obtain permission to anchor before checking into customs.  Finally, five hours later at 01:30, we made Great Barrier Island and Katherine’s Bay.  With the storm raging around us, we dropped our anchor, had a drink, and fell into bed.

The next morning we got underway at 08:45 and headed for Auckland, 55 miles away.  Winds in the protected channel and Auckland harbor were still in the 30 mph range.  We hove to the customs dock at 16:22, cleared-in in an hour, and tied up at our final destination, Viaduct Harbor Marina, at 18:00.  After 14,000 miles of travel and 8 months underway, we didn’t put so much as a scratch on this fantastic yacht!  All of us are in awe of this boat.  She took those huge seas with grace, and could take even more. 

We were well prepared for the storm; we conduct engine room checks every hour during normal conditions and on the half hour during high seas (which permitted us to always discover problems before that became emergencies), we had installed storm plates on our large salon windows, we knew from experience how to deal with the problems and conditions we faced, everything was tied down and properly stowed.  Nothing was broken.  No one was hurt. The outside of Argo and all of equipment was undamaged and in perfect condition.  It took a day or two for us to calm down, but we are all better seaman as a result of the experience.  However, we do not want to experience it again!   

Regarding the storm: it continued to rage for several days and intensified into a cyclone.

CAPTAIN’S LOG                          Samoa

August 13 to August 21, 2014

Arrival:  We arrived in Apia, Samoa at 21:00 on August 13, 2014, after a lovely six day passage from Bora Bora.  Although it was dark when we arrived and we were unfamiliar with the harbor, entry was easy and straightforward.  The harbor is broad once inside the reef.  It is completely open to the north, so it doesn’t provide protection from the ocean’s swell when the wind clocks around.   We dropped the hook in 30 feet of water amongst a few sailboats at anchor.   After a cocktail and a bit of relaxation, we buttoned her up and went below for a good night’s sleep.  The next morning we contacted harbor control to begin the check-in procedure.  Within an hour or so both immigration and health service came aboard.  In early afternoon we went ashore to check in with customs and quarantine services, both of whom we had to bring back to the boat for an inspection.  Altogether there are four offices to check-in with, four sets of papers asking the same information to fill out, but no fees, which is very unusual.  Everyone was friendly and easy going. 

The Islands:  There are two large islands, Upolu and Savai’i, and several very small outer islands, only one or two of which are inhabited.  Samoa has a population of about 185,000; 150,000 live on Upolu and 35,000 live on Savai’i.   Apia is the capital where the majority of the population resides. There are two authorities in Samoa, the civil government and the tribal or village chiefs.   The civil government is elected and has legislative, executive and judicial branches.  The civil government is the final authority in all matters.  

The islands are mountainous and of volcanic origin.  The center of both islands is steep and rugged, strewn with lava rocks and overgrown with rain forests.  It is very hot and humid most of the time here, making it a wonderful environment for vegetation of all kinds. The islands are ravaged by cyclones each year, consequently the high rainforest canopy that you might expect is instead a patchwork of banyans and other tall hardwood trees that are able to withstand the wind, along with vines and broad leaf plants making up the lower layers of the forests.  Coconut Palms are truly the tree of life here in Samoa, and groves of them can be seen everywhere.  There are two seasons in Samoa, the wet season (October to March) and the dry season.  During the wet season it rains in torrents each day, filling the ravines with raging rivers.  Waterfalls cascade off the rugged plateaus from high up in the mountains, falling 900 feet straight down in several places.  The two waterfalls that we saw were spectacularly high, with the water creating a “bridal veil“ down the face of the black lava rock cliffs and falling into a beautiful cascade of small pools carved out of the lava over the millenniums and framed by coconut palms and giant ferns.  In addition to powerful cyclones, Samoa is also subject to periodic tsunamis that ravage the east and south coasts.

Upolu is the larger of the two islands.  Apia, the Capitol of Samoa, is located here and is the commercial and government center.   The city has several large open air farmers’ markets, many restaurants, a movie theater, and shops of all types.  It is clean, although it has no significant architectural buildings other than the recently restored 19^th century Roman Catholic Italianate style Cathedral, and a modern government building.  Samoans are very proud of their little country and pride themselves on their friendliness.  Other than Apia, the Robert Lewis Stevenson plantation attracts a lot of interest.  It is a surprising large sprawling home with many verandas and surrounded by a fancy fence and imposing gate. Mr. Stevenson, who among other things authored Treasure Island, lived in the home for several years before succumbing to tuberculosis at the age of 44.  He and his wife Fanny (a physician from California) are buried on the property and our guide gladly took about five minutes to sing a cappella the funeral song composed by Mr. Stevenson himself for his own funeral.  To me, that certainly demonstrated Mr. Stevenson’s command of the moment!  Both our guide’s voice and the words of the song were quite lovely.  After leaving the home, we stopped by a Bahia Temple or House of Worship.  There are only a handful of these temples in the world and, since one of our friends is a Bahia member, we thought we would stop by and check it out.  The temple is of a modern architectural style and built of concrete in the shape of an inverted flower –maybe a tulip – with the stem end at the top and the petals as sides covering the worship area, which is a six sided room similar in its simplicity to a Quaker Meeting Hall.  The building is very plain with a lone small podium at floor level available for people to share their ideas, which, as I understand it, is the nature of the service.  Outside, the building is landscaped in beautiful gardens, which, when mature, are likely to be spectacular. 

As we continued our drive around the island we saw more village life; dogs, pigs, chickens, small children running about, and their parents lying on mats on the fale floor in the heat of mid-day.  When we reached the south shore of the island, we visited To Sua, a private park that features beautiful geologic and coastal lava formations as well as a garden.  The coast here stretches as far as the eye can see in both directions, and is a rugged lava stone matrix of arches and points against which the southern ocean pounds and upwells with spectacular effect.   Away from the cliff and on firm ground can be found deep lava tubes that the sea replenishes with water from below, some of which are about an acre in size and perhaps two hundred feet below ground level.  The sides of the tubes were covered in beautiful ferns, and the water below was crystal clear.  A stairway descends down the side of the lava tube to the pool so that the ambitious can swim in the pool for the price of climbing back up all those stairs.    

Savai’i is the second largest island of Samoa, and much more rural and traditional than Upolu. We spent two days there including the one hour ferry across Apolima Strait from Upolu.  There are five tourist attractions on Savai’i; the lava field, the blow holes, the sea arches, swimming with turtles, and the traditional craft of tapas cloth making.  The arches and blow holes occur on the southern shore of the island, and like To Sua on Upolu, are dramatic formations of lava where the island meets the sea.   I have posted pictures on the website showing most of these attraction.  The blow holes are the most spectacular that I have ever seen.  Given the right surf conditions, water spouts hundreds of feet in the air like a geyser.  Our guide, whose name was Turkey, put a coconut into the tube just before a wave came in and it shot several hundred feet into the air when the hole blew. It was so interesting that we watched the surf and the blow hole for quite a long time.   

As we drove around the island we stopped at the home of a village chief and his family.  The chief was reclined on the floor of his fale when we arrived.  He was a handsome, self-assured fellow.  Turkey asked if we could photograph his traditional Samoan tattoos.  He happily complied, stood up, adjusted his lava-lava* and proudly posed in the style of Arnold Schwarzenegger, resplendent with a girth appropriate for a chief of middle age.  A few minutes later we entered another fale where his wife was making tapa, a traditional cloth made from tree bark.  She took a four foot sapling stem of a particular tree and stripped the bark off, separated the moist inner bark from the weathered outer layer, and then pounded it into a four foot by two foot piece of course fabric.  As it had several knot holes and other imperfections, other pieces of the same fabric where then glued over it with a glue made from the tapioca root and pounded with a mallet until it was nearly uniform.  After the patchwork was complete, it appeared nearly perfect and very pleasing in both texture and appearance.  After a few hours drying, it becomes a thick, soft, flexible cloth that was traditionally used to make clothing.

* (A lava-lava is a single piece of cloth and when used by men is wrapped around the waist and extends to the knee and then pulled up in front and tied in a knot to form a cover.  It is the traditional dress for men in much of Polynesia. Men also have “western” lava-lavas made of heavier fabric like a suit would be made of and it has pockets.  Women use the same piece of cloth, but hang it above the breasts and tie it on the side as a dress.  No one wears underwear, in case you were wondering.)

A Very Little History: People first came to Samoa about 1,000 years ago from Taiwan.  They are the same tribe that populated Fiji, Tonga, Polynesia, Hawaii and the other South Pacific Islands.  Europeans first “discovered” Samoa in the 18^th century.  Later, Britain, France, Germany and The United States tussled over control of the islands during the 19^th century in order to use them as a coaling station for their commercial and naval fleets. The U.S. formed alliances with local chieftains to secure its position and wound up with what is now called American Samoa.  The Germans won Western Samoa, but lost it to the British during the First World War.  The British turned over administration to New Zealand after WWII, and Western Samoa become independent in 1962.  The citizens of American Samoa have voted to remain a protectorate of the United States.

Village Life: Eighty percent of the land of Samoa is owned by individuals and the remainder is owned by the government, some of which is available for purchase.  Private land is held within villages and is owned by the many extended families living there.  The population of a village can be as small as a few hundred people or as large as a couple of thousand.  Villages are governed by one or more” high chiefs” and a council of “talking chiefs”.  A high chief is elected from a family having royal blood, i.e., related in some way to one of the four ancestral royal families. The high chief is normally a male, but females may also qualify, particularly if there are no qualifying males.  High Chiefs are elected for life and are given a house adjoining the village fale, which is an open air, oblong, thatched or (more recently) steel roofed structure where gatherings are held.   “Talking Chiefs” are elected by the other families to represent and speak for them at council meetings held in the fale.  Chiefs are elected based on their service to the family, village, and church.  This can take the form of helping the old and infirmed, giving food to village members, or helping others defray the expense of funerals and weddings among other things.  The village is the center of life in Samoa.  If a person commits a capital offense that person may be expelled from the village and their house burned and property confiscated.  If this happens, the individual is effectively a stateless person with no means of support.    The chiefs handle matters such as property disputes, family domestic squabbles, teenage rowdiness, and other civil issues.  In the case of rowdiness or wife abuse for example, the chiefs may impose a fine of as much as a thousand dollars or more, which the offender’s family will have to pay if the individual cannot come up with the money.  Younger men wishing to become chiefs help the council maintain order and carry out their mandates.  Women have their own role, which is to keep the village clean and to decorate it with floral gardens, and to conduct money raising events, the proceeds of which go to fund village projects.   Women’s groups have their own leadership hierarchy.

Each family owns part of the village land and on their parcel are usually several homes and at least one fale. Often the homes are fales with little or no furniture and people sleeping on mats or low plank beds with a futon type mattress.  They are built up on pilings about three feet above ground level, the sides are open and have thatched palm blinds that can be lowered when it rains, and mosquito nets to assure a peaceful night’s sleep.  The roof is often thatched, but it can also be covered in steel sheeting.  Some fales are painted and fancy, some are made of concrete, and some are old and dilapidated wooden structures.  There are typically no rooms in a fale, it’s just one large space.  The temperature is so hot and it is so humid that open sided fales are very practical during the day to keep the rain out and provide some shade.  Behind or attached to the fale is often a modern looking four sided home constructed of brick.  There are usually several homes and fales on a site that may belong to different generations of a family.  Newlyweds are usually given a plot to build a fale for their home, or they take over an older abode and the elders move to newer lodging.  Somewhere in the front of the yard for all to see are the tombs of deceased ancestors.  These can be quite large if the deceased was a high chief or a person who rose to prominence. 

Driving around Samoa we saw a large percentage of fale made in the traditional way with people lying about on the floor on old tapa mats. No one looked like they were doing much, but they waved and were ready at the drop of a hat to have their picture taken.  Many of the people in Samoa are quite heavy and likely to be tattooed with ancestral and culturally meaningful designs. The yards were full of breadfruit, papaya, taro, banana and other edible plants.  Perhaps the Garden of Eden was here.   Dogs, chickens, and pigs roam about.  Behind the fale would likely be a small, square roofed structure with no sides; this is the kitchen.  Food is cooked over an open fire using banana leaves to steam vegetables.  Coconut husks are used for fuel, and coconut cream is used in many dishes.  It is obtained by first removing the husk and exposing the nut, then a well place strike of a stone along the lateral line of the shell will open it easily.  The chef then scrapes the coconut fruit into a bowl in shreds.  After he has collected enough shreds, he places the shreds on a fabric (like cheesecloth) made of the coconut husk and wrings the shreds inside the fabric until a milky liquid falls into a waiting bowl.  The resulting liquid has the consistency of cream and is delicious. The left over coconut shreds are fed to the hungry, but wary chickens.  This makes catching them possible.  As they brazenly come forth for the coconut, a quick grab results in one of the three main elements of the Sunday Feast.  The other two are fish and suckling pig.  

Samoans are very religious people and each village has one or more churches within its boundaries.  Many of these churches are quit elaborate and grand, given the appearance of the surrounding village. Each afternoon at around 6 PM a horn sounds or bells ring, calling family members home for evening prayers.  There is a curfew then, and under-chiefs patrol the village looking for truants.  Church attendance is mandatory on Sunday and subject to a fine of if a person fails to attend.  Each Sunday there is a morning service followed by the family feast, which is cooked by the men.  Men do most of the cooking in Samoa. When people go to church they wear their Sunday best.  For women that is pretty standard finery including a big, fancy hat.  For men it involves the Lava-Lava, which is the traditional long, wrap skirt.  Normally during the week they wear a working form of the lava-lava with or without a shirt.  Shirts are usually cotton with a tropical print.  On Sunday, despite the hot, humid weather, they wear an undershirt and English style white shirt and tie.  You can see them walking along the side of the road to and from the churches.  Once morning church services are over, they head back to the family compound for a feast with their extended family.  After the feast comes a nap.  When driving about the countryside, one can see resting on the floor of their fales heaving mounds of golden brown people snoozing blissfully in the mid-day heat.  When nap time is over, it is back to church for two or more hours of evening services. 

The village churches in Samoa are very big and impressive.  All but two villages in the whole country have two or more churches inside their borders.  There are the usually choices: Roman Catholic, Methodist, Jehovah’s Witness, Seventh Day Adventists, Presbyterian and Mormon.  Mormon is the fastest growing and they have new facilities everywhere.  I asked several people why that is; they have basketball courts, I was told.  Perhaps this is as deep as it gets.  Several of our drivers were Mormons and I asked them about their experiences; two of three had been foreign missionaries, and the offer of free travel abroad is probably very attractive to these young people.   I asked both what was the distinguishing belief that differentiated them from, say, Catholics or Protestants.  They didn’t have any idea. Churchgoers are expected to tithe to the church.  Once a month there is a special collection to support the minister or priest of the church, and if enough of a contribution isn’t forthcoming from the flock, names of the laggards may be posted.  The Protestant ministers that we saw lived in relatively lavish homes, with windows and air conditioning.  They drive fancy cars and are among the highest paid people in Samoan society…they take the prime cuts!

Families in Samoa are large, often 10 or more children.  Land is inherited by males, and females normally join their husband’s family and move to their husband’s village after marriage.  A high percentage of Samoan children leave the island as adults, residing in America, New Zealand and Australia during their working years, and return to Samoa and the family compound after they retire.  Children residing abroad are tapped constantly to help support their family at home, to provide the money to build a new home if needed, or to pay for the travel cost of visiting Samoan family members.   The ones remaining at home take care of mom, dad, and other family elders.  Weddings and funerals are lavish and expensive affairs.  These events can involve several days of feasting and a thousand or more invited and uninvited guests.  People come from all over to eat during the events, and they will often take food away with them when they go home.  Each nuclear family within the larger family will be tapped for several pigs, chickens and pounds of fruits and vegetables.  They will almost certainly be called on for a thousand or more dollars each, which is when the phones abroad will ring.  These events can cost ten or twelve thousand dollars on average!  One of our Samoan acquaintances told us that if their brother or sister’s overseas phone has been disconnected or isn’t answered, it is because they don’t want to hear from the folks back home and they are probably tapped out!  I don’t think I would be far off the facts if I said that Samoa’s largest export was its surplus population, and that its greatest import was cash from abroad.

On to Tonga: We checked out of Samoa on Tuesday and headed west around Upolu and south through the Apolima Strait toward Vava’U, Kingdom of Tonga.  It was a beautiful day to start our two day, 350 mile passage and the weather was forecasted to be very pleasant.  We put out our lines and what do you know, we got a very big strike on the way through the strait.  Tyler didn’t want to take it, so I did.  It seemed huge: I battled it for at least thirty minutes.  It was a strange fight though, because it didn’t run, it just wouldn’t come in.  I pulled and pulled, but I couldn’t make any headway for about a half an hour.  Then it began to weaken as I took advantage of every opportunity to reel it in.  I had to be careful as I could easily break the line and lose my $20 lure!  Gradually it gave way and I could see that I was bringing something in…a tuna…I pulled it up, and there it was a 15-20lb Big Eye.  Very small for that species of fish and not capable of the sort of fight I experienced.  I always wanted a Big Eye, but then I saw the problem…a third of it was gone.  A shark had grabbed its tail just as it struck my line and he was fighting me for the tuna…but I won most of it!

As for the trip down south…I am going to sell this damn thing!  Seriously, no sooner had we gotten off shore than we hit very large, steep waves (9-15 ft. @ 7-8 sec) that stayed with us for the two day passage.  It was a rough trip, and the only one this year that made me sea sick! 

We are now quietly anchored in Neiafu, Vava’U, The Kingdom of Tonga.  The weather is colder than usual at 76⁰ and it is windy this week.  Paul Allen’s yacht, Meduse, is anchored next to us off to our starboard.  Rumor has it Bill and Melinda Gates will be here tomorrow. 

Thanks for checking in on us.

As has been said: “Keep your boat on the water and the water out of your boat!”  Certainly words to live by.

 

Randy and Rebecca

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CAPTAIN’S LOG                          Samoa

August 13 to August 21, 2014

Arrival:  We arrived in Apia, Samoa at 21:00 on August 13, 2014, after a lovely six day passage from Bora Bora.  Although it was dark when we arrived and we were unfamiliar with the harbor, entry was easy and straightforward.  The harbor is broad once inside the reef.  It is completely open to the north, so it doesn’t provide protection from the ocean’s swell when the wind clocks around.   We dropped the hook in 30 feet of water amongst a few sailboats at anchor.   After a cocktail and a bit of relaxation, we buttoned her up and went below for a good night’s sleep.  The next morning we contacted harbor control to begin the check-in procedure.  Within an hour or so both immigration and health service came aboard.  In early afternoon we went ashore to check in with customs and quarantine services, both of whom we had to bring back to the boat for an inspection.  Altogether there are four offices to check-in with, four sets of papers asking the same information to fill out, but no fees, which is very unusual.  Everyone was friendly and easy going. 

The Islands:  There are two large islands, Upolu and Savai’i, and several very small outer islands, only one or two of which are inhabited.  Samoa has a population of about 185,000; 150,000 live on Upolu and 35,000 live on Savai’i.   Apia is the capital where the majority of the population resides. There are two authorities in Samoa, the civil government and the tribal or village chiefs.   The civil government is elected and has legislative, executive and judicial branches.  The civil government is the final authority in all matters.  

The islands are mountainous and of volcanic origin.  The center of both islands is steep and rugged, strewn with lava rocks and overgrown with rain forests.  It is very hot and humid most of the time here, making it a wonderful environment for vegetation of all kinds. The islands are ravaged by cyclones each year, consequently the high rainforest canopy that you might expect is instead a patchwork of banyans and other tall hardwood trees that are able to withstand the wind, along with vines and broad leaf plants making up the lower layers of the forests.  Coconut Palms are truly the tree of life here in Samoa, and groves of them can be seen everywhere.  There are two seasons in Samoa, the wet season (October to March) and the dry season.  During the wet season it rains in torrents each day, filling the ravines with raging rivers.  Waterfalls cascade off the rugged plateaus from high up in the mountains, falling 900 feet straight down in several places.  The two waterfalls that we saw were spectacularly high, with the water creating a “bridal veil“ down the face of the black lava rock cliffs and falling into a beautiful cascade of small pools carved out of the lava over the millenniums and framed by coconut palms and giant ferns.  In addition to powerful cyclones, Samoa is also subject to periodic tsunamis that ravage the east and south coasts.

Upolu is the larger of the two islands.  Apia, the Capitol of Samoa, is located here and is the commercial and government center.   The city has several large open air farmers’ markets, many restaurants, a movie theater, and shops of all types.  It is clean, although it has no significant architectural buildings other than the recently restored 19^th century Roman Catholic Italianate style Cathedral, and a modern government building.  Samoans are very proud of their little country and pride themselves on their friendliness.  Other than Apia, the Robert Lewis Stevenson plantation attracts a lot of interest.  It is a surprising large sprawling home with many verandas and surrounded by a fancy fence and imposing gate. Mr. Stevenson, who among other things authored Treasure Island, lived in the home for several years before succumbing to tuberculosis at the age of 44.  He and his wife Fanny (a physician from California) are buried on the property and our guide gladly took about five minutes to sing a cappella the funeral song composed by Mr. Stevenson himself for his own funeral.  To me, that certainly demonstrated Mr. Stevenson’s command of the moment!  Both our guide’s voice and the words of the song were quite lovely.  After leaving the home, we stopped by a Bahia Temple or House of Worship.  There are only a handful of these temples in the world and, since one of our friends is a Bahia member, we thought we would stop by and check it out.  The temple is of a modern architectural style and built of concrete in the shape of an inverted flower –maybe a tulip – with the stem end at the top and the petals as sides covering the worship area, which is a six sided room similar in its simplicity to a Quaker Meeting Hall.  The building is very plain with a lone small podium at floor level available for people to share their ideas, which, as I understand it, is the nature of the service.  Outside, the building is landscaped in beautiful gardens, which, when mature, are likely to be spectacular. 

As we continued our drive around the island we saw more village life; dogs, pigs, chickens, small children running about, and their parents lying on mats on the fale floor in the heat of mid-day.  When we reached the south shore of the island, we visited To Sua, a private park that features beautiful geologic and coastal lava formations as well as a garden.  The coast here stretches as far as the eye can see in both directions, and is a rugged lava stone matrix of arches and points against which the southern ocean pounds and upwells with spectacular effect.   Away from the cliff and on firm ground can be found deep lava tubes that the sea replenishes with water from below, some of which are about an acre in size and perhaps two hundred feet below ground level.  The sides of the tubes were covered in beautiful ferns, and the water below was crystal clear.  A stairway descends down the side of the lava tube to the pool so that the ambitious can swim in the pool for the price of climbing back up all those stairs.    

Savai’i is the second largest island of Samoa, and much more rural and traditional than Upolu. We spent two days there including the one hour ferry across Apolima Strait from Upolu.  There are five tourist attractions on Savai’i; the lava field, the blow holes, the sea arches, swimming with turtles, and the traditional craft of tapas cloth making.  The arches and blow holes occur on the southern shore of the island, and like To Sua on Upolu, are dramatic formations of lava where the island meets the sea.   I have posted pictures on the website showing most of these attraction.  The blow holes are the most spectacular that I have ever seen.  Given the right surf conditions, water spouts hundreds of feet in the air like a geyser.  Our guide, whose name was Turkey, put a coconut into the tube just before a wave came in and it shot several hundred feet into the air when the hole blew. It was so interesting that we watched the surf and the blow hole for quite a long time.   

As we drove around the island we stopped at the home of a village chief and his family.  The chief was reclined on the floor of his fale when we arrived.  He was a handsome, self-assured fellow.  Turkey asked if we could photograph his traditional Samoan tattoos.  He happily complied, stood up, adjusted his lava-lava* and proudly posed in the style of Arnold Schwarzenegger, resplendent with a girth appropriate for a chief of middle age.  A few minutes later we entered another fale where his wife was making tapa, a traditional cloth made from tree bark.  She took a four foot sapling stem of a particular tree and stripped the bark off, separated the moist inner bark from the weathered outer layer, and then pounded it into a four foot by two foot piece of course fabric.  As it had several knot holes and other imperfections, other pieces of the same fabric where then glued over it with a glue made from the tapioca root and pounded with a mallet until it was nearly uniform.  After the patchwork was complete, it appeared nearly perfect and very pleasing in both texture and appearance.  After a few hours drying, it becomes a thick, soft, flexible cloth that was traditionally used to make clothing.

* (A lava-lava is a single piece of cloth and when used by men is wrapped around the waist and extends to the knee and then pulled up in front and tied in a knot to form a cover.  It is the traditional dress for men in much of Polynesia. Men also have “western” lava-lavas made of heavier fabric like a suit would be made of and it has pockets.  Women use the same piece of cloth, but hang it above the breasts and tie it on the side as a dress.  No one wears underwear, in case you were wondering.)

A Very Little History: People first came to Samoa about 1,000 years ago from Taiwan.  They are the same tribe that populated Fiji, Tonga, Polynesia, Hawaii and the other South Pacific Islands.  Europeans first “discovered” Samoa in the 18^th century.  Later, Britain, France, Germany and The United States tussled over control of the islands during the 19^th century in order to use them as a coaling station for their commercial and naval fleets. The U.S. formed alliances with local chieftains to secure its position and wound up with what is now called American Samoa.  The Germans won Western Samoa, but lost it to the British during the First World War.  The British turned over administration to New Zealand after WWII, and Western Samoa become independent in 1962.  The citizens of American Samoa have voted to remain a protectorate of the United States.

Village Life: Eighty percent of the land of Samoa is owned by individuals and the remainder is owned by the government, some of which is available for purchase.  Private land is held within villages and is owned by the many extended families living there.  The population of a village can be as small as a few hundred people or as large as a couple of thousand.  Villages are governed by one or more” high chiefs” and a council of “talking chiefs”.  A high chief is elected from a family having royal blood, i.e., related in some way to one of the four ancestral royal families. The high chief is normally a male, but females may also qualify, particularly if there are no qualifying males.  High Chiefs are elected for life and are given a house adjoining the village fale, which is an open air, oblong, thatched or (more recently) steel roofed structure where gatherings are held.   “Talking Chiefs” are elected by the other families to represent and speak for them at council meetings held in the fale.  Chiefs are elected based on their service to the family, village, and church.  This can take the form of helping the old and infirmed, giving food to village members, or helping others defray the expense of funerals and weddings among other things.  The village is the center of life in Samoa.  If a person commits a capital offense that person may be expelled from the village and their house burned and property confiscated.  If this happens, the individual is effectively a stateless person with no means of support.    The chiefs handle matters such as property disputes, family domestic squabbles, teenage rowdiness, and other civil issues.  In the case of rowdiness or wife abuse for example, the chiefs may impose a fine of as much as a thousand dollars or more, which the offender’s family will have to pay if the individual cannot come up with the money.  Younger men wishing to become chiefs help the council maintain order and carry out their mandates.  Women have their own role, which is to keep the village clean and to decorate it with floral gardens, and to conduct money raising events, the proceeds of which go to fund village projects.   Women’s groups have their own leadership hierarchy.

Each family owns part of the village land and on their parcel are usually several homes and at least one fale. Often the homes are fales with little or no furniture and people sleeping on mats or low plank beds with a futon type mattress.  They are built up on pilings about three feet above ground level, the sides are open and have thatched palm blinds that can be lowered when it rains, and mosquito nets to assure a peaceful night’s sleep.  The roof is often thatched, but it can also be covered in steel sheeting.  Some fales are painted and fancy, some are made of concrete, and some are old and dilapidated wooden structures.  There are typically no rooms in a fale, it’s just one large space.  The temperature is so hot and it is so humid that open sided fales are very practical during the day to keep the rain out and provide some shade.  Behind or attached to the fale is often a modern looking four sided home constructed of brick.  There are usually several homes and fales on a site that may belong to different generations of a family.  Newlyweds are usually given a plot to build a fale for their home, or they take over an older abode and the elders move to newer lodging.  Somewhere in the front of the yard for all to see are the tombs of deceased ancestors.  These can be quite large if the deceased was a high chief or a person who rose to prominence. 

Driving around Samoa we saw a large percentage of fale made in the traditional way with people lying about on the floor on old tapa mats. No one looked like they were doing much, but they waved and were ready at the drop of a hat to have their picture taken.  Many of the people in Samoa are quite heavy and likely to be tattooed with ancestral and culturally meaningful designs. The yards were full of breadfruit, papaya, taro, banana and other edible plants.  Perhaps the Garden of Eden was here.   Dogs, chickens, and pigs roam about.  Behind the fale would likely be a small, square roofed structure with no sides; this is the kitchen.  Food is cooked over an open fire using banana leaves to steam vegetables.  Coconut husks are used for fuel, and coconut cream is used in many dishes.  It is obtained by first removing the husk and exposing the nut, then a well place strike of a stone along the lateral line of the shell will open it easily.  The chef then scrapes the coconut fruit into a bowl in shreds.  After he has collected enough shreds, he places the shreds on a fabric (like cheesecloth) made of the coconut husk and wrings the shreds inside the fabric until a milky liquid falls into a waiting bowl.  The resulting liquid has the consistency of cream and is delicious. The left over coconut shreds are fed to the hungry, but wary chickens.  This makes catching them possible.  As they brazenly come forth for the coconut, a quick grab results in one of the three main elements of the Sunday Feast.  The other two are fish and suckling pig.  

Samoans are very religious people and each village has one or more churches within its boundaries.  Many of these churches are quit elaborate and grand, given the appearance of the surrounding village. Each afternoon at around 6 PM a horn sounds or bells ring, calling family members home for evening prayers.  There is a curfew then, and under-chiefs patrol the village looking for truants.  Church attendance is mandatory on Sunday and subject to a fine of if a person fails to attend.  Each Sunday there is a morning service followed by the family feast, which is cooked by the men.  Men do most of the cooking in Samoa. When people go to church they wear their Sunday best.  For women that is pretty standard finery including a big, fancy hat.  For men it involves the Lava-Lava, which is the traditional long, wrap skirt.  Normally during the week they wear a working form of the lava-lava with or without a shirt.  Shirts are usually cotton with a tropical print.  On Sunday, despite the hot, humid weather, they wear an undershirt and English style white shirt and tie.  You can see them walking along the side of the road to and from the churches.  Once morning church services are over, they head back to the family compound for a feast with their extended family.  After the feast comes a nap.  When driving about the countryside, one can see resting on the floor of their fales heaving mounds of golden brown people snoozing blissfully in the mid-day heat.  When nap time is over, it is back to church for two or more hours of evening services. 

The village churches in Samoa are very big and impressive.  All but two villages in the whole country have two or more churches inside their borders.  There are the usually choices: Roman Catholic, Methodist, Jehovah’s Witness, Seventh Day Adventists, Presbyterian and Mormon.  Mormon is the fastest growing and they have new facilities everywhere.  I asked several people why that is; they have basketball courts, I was told.  Perhaps this is as deep as it gets.  Several of our drivers were Mormons and I asked them about their experiences; two of three had been foreign missionaries, and the offer of free travel abroad is probably very attractive to these young people.   I asked both what was the distinguishing belief that differentiated them from, say, Catholics or Protestants.  They didn’t have any idea. Churchgoers are expected to tithe to the church.  Once a month there is a special collection to support the minister or priest of the church, and if enough of a contribution isn’t forthcoming from the flock, names of the laggards may be posted.  The Protestant ministers that we saw lived in relatively lavish homes, with windows and air conditioning.  They drive fancy cars and are among the highest paid people in Samoan society…they take the prime cuts!

Families in Samoa are large, often 10 or more children.  Land is inherited by males, and females normally join their husband’s family and move to their husband’s village after marriage.  A high percentage of Samoan children leave the island as adults, residing in America, New Zealand and Australia during their working years, and return to Samoa and the family compound after they retire.  Children residing abroad are tapped constantly to help support their family at home, to provide the money to build a new home if needed, or to pay for the travel cost of visiting Samoan family members.   The ones remaining at home take care of mom, dad, and other family elders.  Weddings and funerals are lavish and expensive affairs.  These events can involve several days of feasting and a thousand or more invited and uninvited guests.  People come from all over to eat during the events, and they will often take food away with them when they go home.  Each nuclear family within the larger family will be tapped for several pigs, chickens and pounds of fruits and vegetables.  They will almost certainly be called on for a thousand or more dollars each, which is when the phones abroad will ring.  These events can cost ten or twelve thousand dollars on average!  One of our Samoan acquaintances told us that if their brother or sister’s overseas phone has been disconnected or isn’t answered, it is because they don’t want to hear from the folks back home and they are probably tapped out!  I don’t think I would be far off the facts if I said that Samoa’s largest export was its surplus population, and that its greatest import was cash from abroad.

On to Tonga: We checked out of Samoa on Tuesday and headed west around Upolu and south through the Apolima Strait toward Vava’U, Kingdom of Tonga.  It was a beautiful day to start our two day, 350 mile passage and the weather was forecasted to be very pleasant.  We put out our lines and what do you know, we got a very big strike on the way through the strait.  Tyler didn’t want to take it, so I did.  It seemed huge: I battled it for at least thirty minutes.  It was a strange fight though, because it didn’t run, it just wouldn’t come in.  I pulled and pulled, but I couldn’t make any headway for about a half an hour.  Then it began to weaken as I took advantage of every opportunity to reel it in.  I had to be careful as I could easily break the line and lose my $20 lure!  Gradually it gave way and I could see that I was bringing something in…a tuna…I pulled it up, and there it was a 15-20lb Big Eye.  Very small for that species of fish and not capable of the sort of fight I experienced.  I always wanted a Big Eye, but then I saw the problem…a third of it was gone.  A shark had grabbed its tail just as it struck my line and he was fighting me for the tuna…but I won most of it!

As for the trip down south…I am going to sell this damn thing!  Seriously, no sooner had we gotten off shore than we hit very large, steep waves (9-15 ft. @ 7-8 sec) that stayed with us for the two day passage.  It was a rough trip, and the only one this year that made me sea sick! 

We are now quietly anchored in Neiafu, Vava’U, The Kingdom of Tonga.  The weather is colder than usual at 76⁰ and it is windy this week.  Paul Allen’s yacht, Meduse, is anchored next to us off to our starboard.  Rumor has it Bill and Melinda Gates will be here tomorrow. 

Thanks for checking in on us.

As has been said: “Keep your boat on the water and the water out of your boat!”  Certainly words to live by.

 

Randy and Rebeccacca

CAPTAIN’S LOG      At Sea – Bora Bora to Samoa

August 5:   Fixing Argo    –     Bora Bora        –     Tuesday  

We began the day by stopping by the Gendarmerie to check out of French Polynesia and obtain our Zarpe or clearance form.  The Gendarmes were very courteous and within a few minutes we had filled out their forms and were on our way.  We needed the Zarpe to enter the next port, Apia, Samoa.  We picked up Stu Parker (the mechanic from the hydraulics company) on the ferry dock at 0900.  Stu was an affable Kiwi (is that politically correct, or should it be New Zealander?) and after the ten minute cruise in our tender across the harbor, he set to work on the stabilizer.  Fixing the problem proved more difficult than expected as the bearing on the actuator collar had seized up, which was probably the reason for the actuator seal failure.  After applying a crowbar, hammer, bearing puller, and a lot of elbow grease he got the actuator assembly apart.  Stu suspected that the cause of the failure was probably the lack of grease on the bearing, which should have been applied when it was manufactured.  Altogether it took about two hours, after which he turned his attention to repairing the seals on the manifold up forward.  Meanwhile, Rebecca and I walked the mile or so to Panda d’Or, a Chinese restaurant with take-out like nowhere else we have ever seen.

From the street Panda d’Or looks like a conventional Chinese restaurant, but around the side in the alley is an industrial roll-up door that, when opened, reveals a stainless steel counter and a hive of activity inside.   People were in motion everywhere.  Lying about on the alley pavement cooling themselves were a few dogs, a type of Pit-bull common to all the islands.  We found them a little intimidating.  At the counter were perhaps a half dozen people standing around waiting for their food orders, all dressed in shorts, flip-flops and T-shirts.  In their hands were large bowels used to bring home the stir-fry for their family’s lunch.  We stepped forward to place our order with the frantically busy owner who was fully engaged in taking orders, collecting money, and simultaneously delivering meals to the waiting and hungry customers.  He kindly handed us an English language menu from under the counter. We quickly gave him our order and he turned to the refrigerator with glass doors aside of him, selected our portion of fish, chicken or tofu from within, put each in a small stainless steel bowl and slid them across a work table behind him to a waiting chef.  So far, so good.  The surprise is the wok and chef.  I have never seen anything like it; the chef flipped a lever under the stove type apparatus that ignited a large blow torch that blasted forth from a metal collar designed to perfectly fit the wok.  It sounded like a rocket engine at launch.  It produced a huge blue/white flame and a tremendous amount of heat. With his large spoon, the chef flicked a few ounces of several magic Chinese gastronomic solutions into the wok, then at the right moment he dumped our waiting bowls into the bubbling cauldron and within seconds he had made our meal.  At the same time a couple of other chefs were working at the row of woks; then-suddenly, somewhere along the line, a flame erupted from a wok and – voila!  Another meal was ready.

We walked back to the boat with our treasures, passing little bungalows, some well-kept, others lazily shabby, and many with little backyard shrines atop the tombs of ancestors buried – perhaps recently, or maybe long ago.  Cars whizzed by on the narrow road that ran along the lagoon.  Unfortunately you cannot see the water for all the buildings that are crammed along the shoreline.  When we finally got back on the boat we laid out the nice lunch we had brought. When we finished, Stu wrapped up the repairs and inspected the entire system.   By then the time had come for him to return to the ferry dock and catch his plane back to Papeete and later Auckland.  That evening we invited Garrick Yrondi (the artist) to farewell dinner.  He is a lovely man and we both thoroughly enjoyed his company.  Rebecca made a wonderful meal and I grilled filet mignons. Garrick brought a fantastic bottle of Bordeaux.  It was a productive day and a memorable evening.

August 6:   Departing Bora Bora – Day 1 – Wednesday  

A front had moved in and it was raining cats and dogs.  Untying from the Mai Kai dock was quite an ordeal.  ARGO was tied to the dock at the stern with three lines.  There were no lines to the dock on the port side, as we were moored at the end of the dock.  The bow was initially held in place by the anchor, which was set three hundred feet off the port bow in 65 ft. of water.  The anchor and chain is not enough to keep her stationary, so bow and beam lines were set that were attached to concrete moorings placed on the harbor’s floor.  Teiva, the very helpful and energetic marina owner, scurried about in his tender/mini-tug to hand off lines and push Argo to the desired location for final tie-up.  (We didn’t need his help as a tug because we have thrusters).  Altogether we had nine lines and an anchor chain to hold us in place.  Undoing all this was quit a job, given that there was a boat tied next to us on the starboard side, it was raining heavily, and the wind was pushing us to starboard.  Once free of the lines, we needed to recover our chain and anchor; this took about ten minutes.  Meanwhile, other boats at anchor were close enough to swing into us, so Teiva pushed them about in his mini-tug until we could get free.  We then proceeded a couple of miles to the fuel dock.

Fueling the boat in the driving rain was miserable.  Tyler had caught my cold, however, he wouldn’t hear of me taking over for him on the deck.  Wet and miserable though we were, we accomplished refueling and left Bora Bora at 16:00 after taking on 5,700 liters of diesel fuel in preparation for our passage to Samoa.  Fuel prices were fairly reasonable at $4.43/gal, so we decided to use our bladder and take on an extra 500 gallons.  Our trip to Samoa was 1,200 miles, and with the fuel taken on here in Bora Bora, we should have enough to get us to New Zealand.   The weather forecast called for pleasant conditions, although the sea state in this area over the last two weeks had been in the 11-12 ft. range with winds up to 50 knots in places.  We learned of a sailboat at Surarrow Island that dragged its anchor during the high winds, went onto the reef and sank during that storm.  As we left, it was pouring rain as only it can in the tropics.  One of the young waitresses at Mai Kai Restaurant said that if you leave the island in the rain, it means Bora Bora is sad.  What a poetic thought to end our visit here.

August 7:   At Sea- Day 2 – Thursday  

It is a pleasant day, light winds, a fair sky, and low seas in the range of six feet on the port quarter.  We always feel a little sea sick on the first day out, followed by a day or two of fatigue.  By the third day we are usually into the routine of watch standing and feeling normal again.

ARGO is making about 7.5 knots, which adds up to 185 miles or so a day.   On this trip she is burning a little less than a gallon per mile.   There is no consistent ocean current to help move us along, so it will take a little more effort than on our last long passage.  No observed no other ships or sea life.

What do we do all day when we are at sea?  We stand watch, which means watching the Argo’s mechanical operations by visiting the engine room every hour, then returning to the pilot house and watching the radar and other instruments and filling out the ship’s log.  Sometimes I work on the computer writing the blog or editing pictures, reading or watching videos.  Sometimes I plan our next cruise or study charts and timetables to plan future passages.  Rebecca likes to bake, or prepare meals.  She does laundry about every other day, and reads or does CE for her professional certification.  Sometimes we take a nap, or exercise if it isn’t too hot.  We like to watch extended series like The Tudors, Breaking Bad or Dexter.  Somehow the time flies!

August 8:   At Sea – Day 3 – Friday  

The sea state is low with loping swells in the six foot range, very light winds, and a clear sky.  Overnight squalls formed in line aft of Argo and slowly spread over us.   The direction of the swells is a little confused, caused perhaps by the large fronts both north and south of us.  In any case it is a pleasant cruise.  We haven’t seen any sea life – no whales or dolphins.  Maybe the noise of our engine scares them away, but we saw plenty of whales up close when we traveled on Odyssey.  A few albatross are flying about, but not many.  There are no flying fish or squid on deck as in past passages, and no ships or boats either.  It seems to be a lonely ocean!

August 9:   At sea – Day 4 – Saturday  

Not much has changed from yesterday except that seas may have come down a little.  It is clear and beautiful.

We emptied the bladder tank into our main engine room tanks, which seems to have improved our posture on the sea and the speed we are able to make.  Since taking that 3,500 pounds of weight off the stern, we have been making over 8 knots at 6.8 gallons per hour.  The night sky this evening is nearly like daylight, with a full moon pouring its beautiful silvery beams on the black ocean. 

Although this weather is perfect for a motor yacht, it won’t be welcomed by our friends with sailboats who headed out for Samoa or Tonga this week from Bora Bora; the wind is so light they will have to motor, which makes them less stable than if they were under sail.  When full, the sails hold them to the waves, which keeps them from bouncing around, although they would be hove to an angle.  In this weather they will have to motor so they will be bouncing around in the swells and traveling at a much lower speed then they are accustomed.  We hope to see quite a few of our sailor friends in Samoa.

I think we will put out the fishing gear tomorrow and see what Poseidon has for us!

August 10:   At Sea – Day 5 – Sunday  

Another pleasant day at sea, a repeat of yesterday’s beautiful weather.  It is 94⁰ with humidity to match.  We made 185 miles yesterday.  We had radar targets of two Chinese trawlers (I suspect) at 16 miles.  I wouldn’t have noticed them except that they broke radio silence on VHF, which is unusual for them.  They don’t use AIS, so it is unclear exactly who they are.   From what a Polynesian told me, the Chinese bought the fishing rights to many island countries such as Tonga.  The agreement, so I was told, precludes locals from fishing.  The Chinese send in their fishing fleet and strip the waters over time.  They build processing plants on the islands and if the people want to buy fish, they must do so from the Chinese.  The locals aren’t used to working as hard as the Chinese expect, so Chinese workers are brought in from the mainland to work the plants.  The locals then become unemployed, except for young women who earn money providing companionship to the Chinese workers.  Not a pretty story if it is true. 

We set our clocks back one hour, so we are now -11 hours from GMT or – 7 hours from Eastern Time.  Samoa is -12 hours.

August 12:   At Sea– Day 6 – Tuesday  

Yesterday we made 205 miles.  Today is another beautiful day, just like yesterday and all of the days of this passage so far.   As required we emailed via our Iridium phone a notification to the authorities in Samoa of our pending arrival. 

Although we are not yet at the International Dateline (Longitude 180⁰), Samoa’s calendar and clocks are set to correspond to New Zealand plus one hour.  We decided to advance our calendars today (so we skipped August 11), which is why it isn’t shown above.

We hooked a beautiful Wahoo late this afternoon.  It fought hard for about twenty minutes.  I brought it up to the boat toward Tyler, who was standing on the swim platform ready to land him.  Suddenly the great fish leaped up in the air toward Tyler.  I was very concerned for Tyler’s safety considering those razor sharp teeth.  The fish then settled back in the water and moved toward the port rub-rail, ready to be ushered aboard.  Sliding in the water next to Argo, we could see what a gorgeous creature he was; about 5 feet long, a beautiful brownish tiger stripped fish, magnificent to see in action in the water.   Suddenly a lurch, the lure flew about 10 ft. up into the air toward Tyler, and he was gone.  Oh well.  He was too beautiful for us anyway, but he was the biggest Wahoo I almost caught!

August 13:   At Sea/ Arriving Apia, Samoa – Day 7 – Wednesday  

Another perfect cruising day.  The sea came up a little overnight and is now in the 7-8 ft. range on our beam, but it is confused and mixed with a long moment, so it is comfortable despite its size.  Argo is running perfectly.  We run the generator almost 24/7 so that we can keep the temperature and humidity comfortable onboard.  The rugged peaks of American Samoa can be seen off to our port about 25 miles away.  We’re skipping it because of its ridiculously high immigration fee on motor vessels.  Samoa is another 85 miles further west and we should be anchored in Apia Harbor about 21:00 this evening.  Neptune gave up one of his own this afternoon, a nice Mahi Mahi. 

We anchored in Apia Harbor at 21:00, safe and sound after a long voyage.  We will be here about five days, then move on to Vava’U, Tonga.

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CAPTAIN’S LOG      At Sea – Bora Bora to Samoa

August 5:   Fixing Argo    –     Bora Bora        –     Tuesday  

We began the day by stopping by the Gendarmerie to check out of French Polynesia and obtain our Zarpe or clearance form.  The Gendarmes were very courteous and within a few minutes we had filled out their forms and were on our way.  We needed the Zarpe to enter the next port, Apia, Samoa.  We picked up Stu Parker (the mechanic from the hydraulics company) on the ferry dock at 0900.  Stu was an affable Kiwi (is that politically correct, or should it be New Zealander?) and after the ten minute cruise in our tender across the harbor, he set to work on the stabilizer.  Fixing the problem proved more difficult than expected as the bearing on the actuator collar had seized up, which was probably the reason for the actuator seal failure.  After applying a crowbar, hammer, bearing puller, and a lot of elbow grease he got the actuator assembly apart.  Stu suspected that the cause of the failure was probably the lack of grease on the bearing, which should have been applied when it was manufactured.  Altogether it took about two hours, after which he turned his attention to repairing the seals on the manifold up forward.  Meanwhile, Rebecca and I walked the mile or so to Panda d’Or, a Chinese restaurant with take-out like nowhere else we have ever seen.

From the street Panda d’Or looks like a conventional Chinese restaurant, but around the side in the alley is an industrial roll-up door that, when opened, reveals a stainless steel counter and a hive of activity inside.   People were in motion everywhere.  Lying about on the alley pavement cooling themselves were a few dogs, a type of Pit-bull common to all the islands.  We found them a little intimidating.  At the counter were perhaps a half dozen people standing around waiting for their food orders, all dressed in shorts, flip-flops and T-shirts.  In their hands were large bowels used to bring home the stir-fry for their family’s lunch.  We stepped forward to place our order with the frantically busy owner who was fully engaged in taking orders, collecting money, and simultaneously delivering meals to the waiting and hungry customers.  He kindly handed us an English language menu from under the counter. We quickly gave him our order and he turned to the refrigerator with glass doors aside of him, selected our portion of fish, chicken or tofu from within, put each in a small stainless steel bowl and slid them across a work table behind him to a waiting chef.  So far, so good.  The surprise is the wok and chef.  I have never seen anything like it; the chef flipped a lever under the stove type apparatus that ignited a large blow torch that blasted forth from a metal collar designed to perfectly fit the wok.  It sounded like a rocket engine at launch.  It produced a huge blue/white flame and a tremendous amount of heat. With his large spoon, the chef flicked a few ounces of several magic Chinese gastronomic solutions into the wok, then at the right moment he dumped our waiting bowls into the bubbling cauldron and within seconds he had made our meal.  At the same time a couple of other chefs were working at the row of woks; then-suddenly, somewhere along the line, a flame erupted from a wok and – voila!  Another meal was ready.

We walked back to the boat with our treasures, passing little bungalows, some well-kept, others lazily shabby, and many with little backyard shrines atop the tombs of ancestors buried – perhaps recently, or maybe long ago.  Cars whizzed by on the narrow road that ran along the lagoon.  Unfortunately you cannot see the water for all the buildings that are crammed along the shoreline.  When we finally got back on the boat we laid out the nice lunch we had brought. When we finished, Stu wrapped up the repairs and inspected the entire system.   By then the time had come for him to return to the ferry dock and catch his plane back to Papeete and later Auckland.  That evening we invited Garrick Yrondi (the artist) to farewell dinner.  He is a lovely man and we both thoroughly enjoyed his company.  Rebecca made a wonderful meal and I grilled filet mignons. Garrick brought a fantastic bottle of Bordeaux.  It was a productive day and a memorable evening.

August 6:   Departing Bora Bora – Day 1 – Wednesday  

A front had moved in and it was raining cats and dogs.  Untying from the Mai Kai dock was quite an ordeal.  ARGO was tied to the dock at the stern with three lines.  There were no lines to the dock on the port side, as we were moored at the end of the dock.  The bow was initially held in place by the anchor, which was set three hundred feet off the port bow in 65 ft. of water.  The anchor and chain is not enough to keep her stationary, so bow and beam lines were set that were attached to concrete moorings placed on the harbor’s floor.  Teiva, the very helpful and energetic marina owner, scurried about in his tender/mini-tug to hand off lines and push Argo to the desired location for final tie-up.  (We didn’t need his help as a tug because we have thrusters).  Altogether we had nine lines and an anchor chain to hold us in place.  Undoing all this was quit a job, given that there was a boat tied next to us on the starboard side, it was raining heavily, and the wind was pushing us to starboard.  Once free of the lines, we needed to recover our chain and anchor; this took about ten minutes.  Meanwhile, other boats at anchor were close enough to swing into us, so Teiva pushed them about in his mini-tug until we could get free.  We then proceeded a couple of miles to the fuel dock.

Fueling the boat in the driving rain was miserable.  Tyler had caught my cold, however, he wouldn’t hear of me taking over for him on the deck.  Wet and miserable though we were, we accomplished refueling and left Bora Bora at 16:00 after taking on 5,700 liters of diesel fuel in preparation for our passage to Samoa.  Fuel prices were fairly reasonable at $4.43/gal, so we decided to use our bladder and take on an extra 500 gallons.  Our trip to Samoa was 1,200 miles, and with the fuel taken on here in Bora Bora, we should have enough to get us to New Zealand.   The weather forecast called for pleasant conditions, although the sea state in this area over the last two weeks had been in the 11-12 ft. range with winds up to 50 knots in places.  We learned of a sailboat at Surarrow Island that dragged its anchor during the high winds, went onto the reef and sank during that storm.  As we left, it was pouring rain as only it can in the tropics.  One of the young waitresses at Mai Kai Restaurant said that if you leave the island in the rain, it means Bora Bora is sad.  What a poetic thought to end our visit here.

August 7:   At Sea- Day 2 – Thursday  

It is a pleasant day, light winds, a fair sky, and low seas in the range of six feet on the port quarter.  We always feel a little sea sick on the first day out, followed by a day or two of fatigue.  By the third day we are usually into the routine of watch standing and feeling normal again.

ARGO is making about 7.5 knots, which adds up to 185 miles or so a day.   On this trip she is burning a little less than a gallon per mile.   There is no consistent ocean current to help move us along, so it will take a little more effort than on our last long passage.  No observed no other ships or sea life.

What do we do all day when we are at sea?  We stand watch, which means watching the Argo’s mechanical operations by visiting the engine room every hour, then returning to the pilot house and watching the radar and other instruments and filling out the ship’s log.  Sometimes I work on the computer writing the blog or editing pictures, reading or watching videos.  Sometimes I plan our next cruise or study charts and timetables to plan future passages.  Rebecca likes to bake, or prepare meals.  She does laundry about every other day, and reads or does CE for her professional certification.  Sometimes we take a nap, or exercise if it isn’t too hot.  We like to watch extended series like The Tudors, Breaking Bad or Dexter.  Somehow the time flies!

August 8:   At Sea – Day 3 – Friday  

The sea state is low with loping swells in the six foot range, very light winds, and a clear sky.  Overnight squalls formed in line aft of Argo and slowly spread over us.   The direction of the swells is a little confused, caused perhaps by the large fronts both north and south of us.  In any case it is a pleasant cruise.  We haven’t seen any sea life – no whales or dolphins.  Maybe the noise of our engine scares them away, but we saw plenty of whales up close when we traveled on Odyssey.  A few albatross are flying about, but not many.  There are no flying fish or squid on deck as in past passages, and no ships or boats either.  It seems to be a lonely ocean!

August 9:   At sea – Day 4 – Saturday  

Not much has changed from yesterday except that seas may have come down a little.  It is clear and beautiful.

We emptied the bladder tank into our main engine room tanks, which seems to have improved our posture on the sea and the speed we are able to make.  Since taking that 3,500 pounds of weight off the stern, we have been making over 8 knots at 6.8 gallons per hour.  The night sky this evening is nearly like daylight, with a full moon pouring its beautiful silvery beams on the black ocean. 

Although this weather is perfect for a motor yacht, it won’t be welcomed by our friends with sailboats who headed out for Samoa or Tonga this week from Bora Bora; the wind is so light they will have to motor, which makes them less stable than if they were under sail.  When full, the sails hold them to the waves, which keeps them from bouncing around, although they would be hove to an angle.  In this weather they will have to motor so they will be bouncing around in the swells and traveling at a much lower speed then they are accustomed.  We hope to see quite a few of our sailor friends in Samoa.

I think we will put out the fishing gear tomorrow and see what Poseidon has for us!

August 10:   At Sea – Day 5 – Sunday  

Another pleasant day at sea, a repeat of yesterday’s beautiful weather.  It is 94⁰ with humidity to match.  We made 185 miles yesterday.  We had radar targets of two Chinese trawlers (I suspect) at 16 miles.  I wouldn’t have noticed them except that they broke radio silence on VHF, which is unusual for them.  They don’t use AIS, so it is unclear exactly who they are.   From what a Polynesian told me, the Chinese bought the fishing rights to many island countries such as Tonga.  The agreement, so I was told, precludes locals from fishing.  The Chinese send in their fishing fleet and strip the waters over time.  They build processing plants on the islands and if the people want to buy fish, they must do so from the Chinese.  The locals aren’t used to working as hard as the Chinese expect, so Chinese workers are brought in from the mainland to work the plants.  The locals then become unemployed, except for young women who earn money providing companionship to the Chinese workers.  Not a pretty story if it is true. 

We set our clocks back one hour, so we are now -11 hours from GMT or – 7 hours from Eastern Time.  Samoa is -12 hours.

August 12:   At Sea– Day 6 – Tuesday  

Yesterday we made 205 miles.  Today is another beautiful day, just like yesterday and all of the days of this passage so far.   As required we emailed via our Iridium phone a notification to the authorities in Samoa of our pending arrival. 

Although we are not yet at the International Dateline (Longitude 180⁰), Samoa’s calendar and clocks are set to correspond to New Zealand plus one hour.  We decided to advance our calendars today (so we skipped August 11), which is why it isn’t shown above.

We hooked a beautiful Wahoo late this afternoon.  It fought hard for about twenty minutes.  I brought it up to the boat toward Tyler, who was standing on the swim platform ready to land him.  Suddenly the great fish leaped up in the air toward Tyler.  I was very concerned for Tyler’s safety considering those razor sharp teeth.  The fish then settled back in the water and moved toward the port rub-rail, ready to be ushered aboard.  Sliding in the water next to Argo, we could see what a gorgeous creature he was; about 5 feet long, a beautiful brownish tiger stripped fish, magnificent to see in action in the water.   Suddenly a lurch, the lure flew about 10 ft. up into the air toward Tyler, and he was gone.  Oh well.  He was too beautiful for us anyway, but he was the biggest Wahoo I almost caught!

August 13:   At Sea/ Arriving Apia, Samoa – Day 7 – Wednesday  

Another perfect cruising day.  The sea came up a little overnight and is now in the 7-8 ft. range on our beam, but it is confused and mixed with a long moment, so it is comfortable despite its size.  Argo is running perfectly.  We run the generator almost 24/7 so that we can keep the temperature and humidity comfortable onboard.  The rugged peaks of American Samoa can be seen off to our port about 25 miles away.  We’re skipping it because of its ridiculously high immigration fee on motor vessels.  Samoa is another 85 miles further west and we should be anchored in Apia Harbor about 21:00 this evening.  Neptune gave up one of his own this afternoon, a nice Mahi Mahi. 

We anchored in Apia Harbor at 21:00, safe and sound after a long voyage.  We will be here about five days, then move on to Vava’U, Tonga.

CAPTAIN’S LOG                                                              The Society Islands 

                                                         Tahiti, Moorea, Huahine, Raiatea, Tahaa, Bora Bora

                                                                                June 29 to August 6, 2014 

Preface

The September issue of PassageMaker magazine has been published and includes a feature article and pictures of our passage through the Panama Canal.  We are very complimented that PassageMaker syndicates our newsletter letter The Argonaut and publishes it on their website.  http://www.passagemaker.com/category/destinations/cruiser-blogs/the-argonaut/

  Rebecca and I have been accepted as members of the Ocean Cruising Club, which isn’t an honor of any sort except that you have to log of miles on the high seas.  It’s just fun to be part of a group of people who have made long open ocean passages.  Members often display their burgees in port so we can identify them and learn of their adventures.

So far we have traveled 10,500 miles on this Pacific trip.

The Society Islands

Tahiti:  We enjoyed a lovely 22 hour cruise down to Papeete from Tikehau.  The sea was calm, we cruised before a light 5 knot breeze, and the sky was blue and clear.  It couldn’t have been more beautiful; perfect for deploying our fishing gear and Father Neptune gave us two Mahi-Mahis and one huge Skip Jack for our effort.  The skip jacks are a type of tuna, and in these waters they grow to twenty-five or thirty pounds.  It was a picturesque passage in every way.

Geography:  Tahiti is located in the middle of the Pacific Ocean about 3,300 miles due south of Hawaii and 2,000 miles northeast of New Zealand.  It is an island formed about two million years ago by ancient volcanos.  Tahiti is made up of two mountains joined by an isthmus to form Tahiti Nui and Tahiti Iti.   Mt. Orohena is the highest peak at about 7,000 ft. above sea level, but it began its ascent over 11,000 ft. below the sea’s surface on the ocean floor.  Its peaks are often surrounded by clouds, and its rugged mountain tops encircle what used to be the volcano’s crater.  Mt. Orohena is composed of basaltic rock, which is soft and has eroded over the centuries into spires and carved edges that delight the eye and the imagination.  Its mountain tops yield to valleys that are covered by jungle vegetation of every description. Papeete sprawls around the northwest edge of the island and flows down the lava slopes.  As we approached the island, we could see lovely homes perched precariously on the hillsides, and the town itself nestled inside the lagoon at the harbor.  The island is surrounded by a coral reef.  Large rollers meet the coral with thunderous roars and white surf.  The coral ring is easily seen as a pale blue circle­­ of water around the island punctuated by rocks that pierce the surfa­­ce and then submerge on the inside of the lagoon to form a dark blue navigable waterway between the island and the reef.  Every so often there is an opening that permits passage over the reef and into the lagoon.

Shortly after we arrived, Rebecca arranged a tour of the island by car; other than in Papeete there is essentially one road around the island.  The island is very steep, so most of the homes and gardens are located near the lagoon that surrounds the island.  It is very lush and verdant providing a high standard of living for Tahitians.  At the southeast end of Tahiti Nui is an isthmus that joins the bigger portion of the island to the smaller Tahiti Iti.   We drove up the side of the mountain on Tahiti Iti to see the view of the isthmus and its surrounding lagoon.  This was one of the most beautiful geographic sights I have ever seen.  Tahiti is also a world renowned surfing location. 

Arriving at Papeete:  Papeete was a welcomed sight to us because we hadn’t been to a town bigger than a few thousand people for several months.  We were looking forward to provisioning and other benefits of civilization.  We entered the lagoon at Passe de Taapuna, about seven miles south of Papeete.  The pass was a little tricky as it is shallow, subject to the effects of the surf and requires several turns in the shallow area, but we negotiated it with only a slightly elevated pulse.  We proceeded north up the lagoon’s channel to Marina Tiana, the largest marina in French Polynesia and home to several hundred boats.  We stern tied to the so-called super yacht wharf and within a few hours we had rented a car, dined at the restaurant on the pier, and began shopping.

Shopping in Papeete was relatively easy.  French is the national language, but English is taught in school and most people are happy to converse in English.  A half mile walk from the marina was a shopping center that was stocked with virtually everything on our provisioning list.  Argo was in need of some oil filters and a couple of extra impellers, and this proved a bit of an adventure to find a heavy equipment parts supplier on the wharf at Papeete.  Driving in alleys and around ships being broken apart for scrap was interesting, and the supplier we found was staffed by knowledgeable and friendly people who were very excited and interested to learn of our adventure. 

The downtown area of Papeete is not particularly memorable from an architectural point of view.   Most of its buildings are of a 60’s vintage that surround a busy, working harbor, but to us it was a welcome respite of civilization after several months in places with few people.  Papeete is the capitol of French Polynesia, which is a protectorate of France.  The French support the country by paying for most of the cost of government (teachers’ salaries, the Gendarmeries, customs and immigration services, and many other government functions – $18 billion), yet there is an active, if ill-advised political movement to separate from France.  Without French subsidies, however, the Confederation of French Polynesia would not enjoy its relatively high standard of living, so I cannot imagine that the majority of Polynesians would be willing to give up French support.  Economic activity here peaked in the 1990’s, with cheap airfares appealing to tourists and black pearls fetching a very high premium.  Today however, the Chinese are selling black pearls cheaper than they can be produced here, and the tourist industry has not recovered from the Great Recession; tourist revenue is below 1997 values.   Papeete is home to the CFP government and offices of the French government.  Students over the age of fifteen from all the seven archipelagoes that make up the CFP come here for high school.  There are universities and a sophisticated medical center here.   Papeete is the main distribution center for all the islands.

     

The money here is the CFP franc.  Its conversion value varies from day to day; on some days we received as little as $1 equals 0.83 francs less a commission of 1% plus a fixed charge of $17.50.  Only some bank offices convert dollars, and their hours of operation are hard to predict what with holidays, the equivalent of a siesta in the afternoon, and local factors.  Banks will only convert $500 at a time, netting us considerably less when all is said and done.  Prices are generally higher than we pay in the U.S., particularly for food and restaurants.  These factors have us relying on our credit cards.  The CFP government waives its tax on fuel and parts purchased by transient yachts, making things more affordable for yachters.  We purchased fuel here for $4.53 a gallon (which I didn’t think was too bad); a hamburger with fries, on the other hand, costs about $20 (which I thought was pretty expensive).

Local Customs:  In talking with our guide, she told us that people in Polynesia do not find it necessary to get married in order to live together or raise a family.  Instead they move in with each other and maintain separate financial dealings and ownership of property.  Women maintain their own name and are free to leave the man or vice versa without legal squabbling.  Sometimes they marry in the church, but often this is done later in life.  I assumed wrongly that people were free to be promiscuous, but she told me that if her partner went wondering, that would be the end of their relationship.  If there is a breakup, the children go with whom they wish, and there are often children from many liaisons living under one roof.  So what’s new?

One thing that is apparent here is that life is slower paced.  The climate is so agreeable and the temperature is never cold, so the cost of housing and clothing is much lower than in the northern hemisphere.  A lot of fruits and vegetables are grown in family gardens, and fish is cheap and plentiful.  People don’t seem to be in much of a hurry, cars are available and expensive, but with only ten miles of road are not the status symbol that they are elsewhere.  Many people live on an island their entire life and are buried with their ancestors on the family homestead.  There is a rich connection to the ancient past.  Land ownership here can be tricky since much of the land is subject to tribal-family claims (requiring perhaps tens if not hundreds of people to approve the sale of their rights), while at the same time the same piece of land may be subject to ownership under subsequent colonial and church claims. The legal system, particular where property ownership is concerned, favors those who look Polynesian. 

Europeans here are primarily from France, and from what I can gather, are people who have opted out of the rat race.  Many own small businesses, shops, or restaurants here.

 

Heiva:  French Polynesians celebrate the “Festival of Life” or Heiva each year in July.  All the islands that we visited had something going on such as out-rigger canoe races, coconut husking competitions, cookouts, and above all dance and singing competitions.  Canoe clubs are popular and easy for us to identify as an athletic event, but the dance groups are something entirely different.  The biggest Heiva is held at Papeete, where dance and choral groups from all over the hundreds of Polynesian islands come to perform and compete. 

Dance groups are formed as a social club in many villages or islands such as the Huahine Island group that we saw perform one evening.  Dance groups have a membership of perhaps 150 people with about 20 of them being orchestra members and the rest being dancers.  They practice for six or eight months before the Heiva begins each summer, readying themselves for the competition.   The orchestra is predominately a percussion orchestra comprised of several different size drums, a ukulele chorus, and other unusual instruments.  The performance begins when the orchestra creates a primitive, pulsating, loud, rhythmic sound that will soon send the dancers into an erotic frenzy.  At other times during the performance they sound like a Kabuki orchestra, making it all the more exotic.  A narrative in the Tahitian language is given by what appears to be a chief or shaman who relates a mythical story of how the islands were formed by Maui or Pele or some other god or goddess, or perhaps the story of a great battle between tribes in ancient times; the dancers then interpret the story in dance.  When the narrative is over the dancers swing into action.  The dance is viewed by the audience in an arena setting, so that they can appreciate the choreography and precision movements of this tribe of people.  The dancers are dressed in costumes made of grass, leaves and flowers.   They are quite beautiful and very colorful.  The females move their hips with amazing rapidity that is clearly intended to be erotic, while the men move their thighs in a way that reminds me somehow of spawning or reproduction in the animal world.  In any case, it is a spectacle to behold.   The dance lasts about an hour and closes when the males and females pair off, all the while shaking and quivering as they and the audience reach a point of ecstasy as the drum beat intensifies.  It seems to evoke ancient tribal customs, sometimes savage, sometimes erotic.  If you allow yourself to get caught up in it, you can almost smell a missionary roasting on the spit!

The Credit Card Debacle:  We have had a devil of a time with our VISA cards.  We carried two of them from different banks as insurance against having one cancelled, but as fate would have it they were both canceled in the course of our travels because of fraud issues with participating stores.  After literally hours and hours of phone time, repeatedly answering the same security questions over and over and talking with all levels of incompetence, having the phone blank out after talking to the third tier in their hierarchy and having to start all over at the bottom rung again, we sweated out having new cards sent to Marina Tiana.  In the course of trying to track them and find out if they made it here, we discovered that the lame brain in the Bank of America’s VISA office sent it to “Tamiti”.  Of course there is no such place.  To make matters worse, the UPS form doesn’t have enough lines on the computerized address label to accommodate addresses here, so this increased our anxiety.   As the days ticked off, we finally got a tracking number and learned that the cards actually got to Papeete.  UPS uses a private vender here.  The phone system here is adding two digits to all phone numbers, so once we found the right number, we contacted them and arranged to drive over to their offices and pick up our cards since they had no idea of the final address to which they should have been delivered.  All’s well that ends well, I suppose, but our AT&T bill was over $1,400 largely due to calls to the credit card companies!

New Friends:  One of the greatest pleasures of traveling on a yacht is meeting new and interesting people.  In the Tiana Marina we met several couples that we really enjoyed.  One was Don and Laurie aboard True Blue: he was a prominent plastic surgeon and she an interior designer.  Don told me that last year they sold everything: the house in Sausalito, the helicopter, the motorcycle, the cars …everything, and bought their Oyster 66 and began their odyssey.  They’re having a wonderful time and dealing with a few bumps here and there, like their captain and his girlfriend (the cook) getting into a terrible row leading to their departure and the emergency hiring of a replacement captain, and don’t forget the failed generator that took three weeks to get parts for.

Johnny and Veronica and their three kids moored next to us on Walkabout, a Nordhavn 62; they have been spending the three summer months when the kids are out of school sailing as far as possible.  They leave their yacht in the last port they reach for nine months until next season.  They have traveled up the west coast to Alaska, then across the Aleutian Islands and down to Japan, then to Korea, Shanghai, Vietnam, and other places including Borneo, where they sailed up a river and saw orangutans, pigmy elephants and other exotic creatures. 

Julie and Mike: My sister and her husband, Mike, flew into Papeete for a two week visit with us.  They are sharing all the experiences that I am describing, particularly the Heivai Dance festivals and snorkeling. 

Moorea: After almost two weeks in Papeete we shoved off for Moorea, a gorgeous island just twelve miles away. Our passage was a little rough, as wind speeds reached around 25 knots and seas were in the six foot range.  Julie gets sea sick easily and this little jaunt was no exception.  She is a good sport and after getting sick she just came back up on deck for more.

The passage across the reef into Cook’s Bay was easy.  We anchored in 60 ft. of water near boats that we had seen in other anchorages.  Cook’s Bay is one of the most beautiful places I have ever been.   Like other Polynesian ports of call, the bay is the remnant of an ancient volcano with the eroded sides of the crater forming the peaks of the mountains.   Like Tahiti, Moorea is surrounded by a coral reef that is teeming with all types of colorful tropical fish.  It wasn’t long before we arranged for a scuba dive on the reef, the big attraction of which was the sighting of a huge 9 ft. lemon shark.  Unfortunately it was a rainy day, and underwater that didn’t make any difference except that it was rather low light and a little chilly after two dives

The next day we toured the island with our charming Polynesian guide, Paulina, and saw the vista from Belvidere, went to the local distillery, saw the ruins of her ancestors, and had lunch at Snack Mahana.  The place occupied a beautiful waterfront location and served up gourmet fare known far and wide, including its featured dish, Poisson Cru lait coco Tahiti, a raw tuna salad in coconut milk that was simply delicious.  It is made with slices of raw blue or yellow fin tuna marinated in coconut milk and lime and served with cucumber slices and onion.

Of course no tour would be complete without a little shopping, and Moorea had some very nice artisan shops that Julie and Mike took advantage of including the black pearl jeweler. 

That afternoon Julie, Mike and I took the tender on a snorkeling expedition.  This proved interesting in that we saw quit a few sting rays and managed to get stuck in shallow water in the labyrinth of the coral reef, but otherwise all was fine and it was a lot of fun. 

 

Huahine:  We decided to do a night cruise to Huahine so that Julie and Mike could see the ocean and sky at night.  It was almost 100 miles from Moorea to Huahine and it was a lovely evening for a cruise.  We left Moorea at 1700 and by the time we transited the pass into the open ocean the sun had nearly set.   The cruise was everything I had hoped it would be for them: the sky was pitch black and the stars twinkled in the firmament with a brilliance of clarity and in numbers that bewitch the mind.  The Milky Way appears as a cloud of star dust extending from one horizon to the other.  The waves peeling back from ARGO’s bow revealed stars in the water – star light like bursts from the plankton rising from thousands of feet below.

We made Huahine the following morning and put in at the little village of Fare, and fair it was.  We anchored in 90 feet of water and laid out 450 feet of chain; it’s a good thing I ordered 650 feet of chain on this boat!  Tyler secured Argo and gave her a bath after our cruise.  Everyone else but me went ashore for shopping and reconnoitering while I laid low with very bad cold.  That evening I managed to join the family for a really great happy hour and dinner at the beach front restaurant, which we later found out is known to boaters far and wide.   After dinner we went to the local Heiva, which was very provincial compared to the more professional performances in Papeete.  We stayed overnight and the next day we cruised down the lagoon to another anchorage that was not only a visual knockout, but had some of the most beautiful coral formations we had seen.  The troupe went snorkeling while I nursed my cold.  After they returned and dined on one of Rebecca’s fabulous meals, we took the dingy through a passage to another bay that connected to the other side of the islands.  There we found a little tavern.  We enjoyed a libation in a very rural and authentic setting, and it gave Mike a chance to pick up the bill as I forgot my wallet. 

Raiatea and Tahaa:  The next morning we hoisted the anchor and departed for Raiatea, a couple of hours away.  It was a beautiful day, but the fish weren’t at all interested in what we had to offer.  We moored at the town dock at Uturoa and dined at the little French restaurant on the dock.  We were all anxious to get to Bora Bora because of all we had heard about it.  That evening Harry Smith, an Australian that we meet in Jamaica and who had made the crossing during the same time period that we had, came by for a visit.  He offered us some advice on Tahaa, the next island, and reported a phenomenal coral garden there.  He also helped me plan our 2016 trip down the coast of Australia to Tasmania.  The next morning we left Raiatea and moved over to Tahaa, which was only a few miles away.  After we anchored in a secluded bay, we launched the tender and spent two days floating in the fabulous wonder of its coral garden.  It was located in a channel between two motus with the sea water from the outer reef flowing through rather briskly to keep things fresh for all sorts of fish, corals and other creatures.  We anchored our tender at one end of the channel and walked up the motu to the head water about ¼ mile away, and then floated down the channel to our boat, all the while watching the fabulous aquatic scenery as we floated by.  Among the hundreds of brightly colored tropical fish swimming about their business oblivious to us, were two particularly interesting creatures that I hadn’t seen before.   One was a sea anemone that was a beautiful red color with sticky tan tentacles and beautiful little fish weaving in and out.  The other were maxima clams or small giant clams with the curved edges that have beautifully blue, red or brown colored lips.  It was so fabulous it can’t be described.

Bora Bora:  We reluctantly left Tahaa but looked forward to coming into Bora Bora, which is a seminal experience for a captain; it’s like coming into New York or San Francisco harbors.  The pass channel is wide and easily navigated, but the bay is full of coral heads and reefs.  As we entered we saw the beautiful rollers breaking on the reef on both sides, the reef awash with turquoise water, and the deep blue lagoon inside the reef.  Dominating the whole scene is a huge megalith of a receding mountain named Mt. Otemanu that was once a mighty volcano.  The caldera beneath the volcano has cooled and the mountain has eroded and collapsed over the centuries; it sinks about a centimeter a year into the sea.   Eventually it will be like the Tuamotus. i.e., a ring of motus surrounding a lagoon.

 We expected a bustling island with lots to do and see, but in reality it is a small and quiet place with only a few restaurants.  Most of the activity here is at the famous hotels and resorts scattered about the motus that surround the island.  The room prices are an unbelievable $2- 3,000 per night.  A friend of ours went to a cheap $1,200 place where they got the third night free.  We have been told that the resorts are all full, yet you don’t see many tourists about as they are locked away behind the gates of their resort. 

Julie and Mike had a few more days with us so we planned an island tour that proved to be fantastic.  We were picked up by a four wheel drive open back Range Rover pickup truck with bench seats in the bed.  I must say I wasn’t very enthusiastic at first, but in a few minutes I was having a lot of fun.   This thing climbed 50⁰ slopes: it was fantastic.  We climbed all over the mountain including a place where the Americans had placed gun mounts during the Second World War.  We examined the guns, which had a legend marked with the name of the manufacturer and the date of manufacture: 1907.  I asked our guide about this and he told me that they were taken from ships that were sunk at Pearl Harbor on December 7^th.  Later they were removed from the sunken ships and brought here as defensive weapons.  They were probably part of the weaponry on the Battleship Texas or some other old ship that wasn’t salvaged after the attack.  The guns looked like they were cut from the ship’s deck plate, moved here, and then cemented into position on the top of the hill, deck plate and all. 

One of the interesting things we found on the tour aside from the fabulous views from the mountain peaks, was the fact that people here bury their dead next to their homes.  As we drove up the mountain side we could see that almost all the homes had small, roofed tombs in the yard near the home with colorful plastic flowers to memorialize their ancestors who were buried there. 

Life on the Dock:  During the last few days Tyler, handsome and youthful as he is, has been the object of attention from at least two young women who have found themselves stranded on the dock here in Bora Bora.  It seems they were crewing on sailboats that are crossing the Pacific.  Usually these women offer to cook, clean, and perhaps stand watch in exchange for free passage across the ocean.  As you can imagine, people often get annoyed with one another while being in close quarters over such a long time period, so it isn’t unusual to see people leave a boat and look for other arrangements.   Sometimes they fall in love, dare I say?  In the two cases this week, the captains put it to them bluntly.  The ladies took great offense and in their righteous indignation immediately left their boats, penniless and without an apparent means of support.  We fed one hungry young women (a 30 year old Chilean on her way to New Zealand for a job)) a healthy meal, and both found temporary accommodations on other sailboats until some stability in their lives could be arranged.  After a brief period of time during which strangers rallied to extend a helping hand,  both have now moved on to new arrangements and the dock has return to the its normal tranquil and bucolic state.    

One of the sailors hold up in Bora Bora waiting on the weather reported that one of the men associated with the hassle with the ladies mentioned above, left port without the permission of the gendarmes and without a clearance to the next port.   At his next port of call he could face a stiff fine, perhaps as much as $10,000 and/or be required to retrace his steps back to the last port and obtain a clearance there.   He is now 800 miles out at sea, in seas of 14 ft. and winds over 30 knots, having lost his mainsail and his engine.  

Getting Underway:  After Julie and Mike left we planned to get underway for American Samoa.  We found out from our fuel agent that American Samoa requires a customs agent for motor yachts (but not sailboats) to enter American Samoa.   The agent’s fee is $500, plus a bunch of other government fees, so we decided to skip the islands and their hospitality.  Instead we decided to move along to independent Samoa about 100 miles further west, which as far as I know is more reasonable.  The passage is 1,200 miles that will take about six days.  The weather will be less than ideal, but we are looking forward to the trip.  In the course of preparing ARGO we discovered a few problems.

 Mechanical Problems:  In preparing for any long voyage we check the yacht thoroughly.  This time Tyler found the unwelcomed presence of hydraulic fluid in our bilge, which is not a good sign.  As you know the hydraulic system has been a repeated source of difficulties.  We began to hunt around for the source of the leak and found that the actuator on our port stabilizer had begun to seep oil, but it was a small and slow leak, not enough to cause us to lose two gallons of oil.   Up forward however, we found two more leaks at the manifolds of the windless and thruster.  Apparently two seals had failed and oil under 3,400 lbs. of pressure was spraying everywhere.   It was a mess and a very big concern. 

Lucky for us we bought Argo from Nordhavn, which subcontracts the hydraulic system from American Bow Thruster, Inc.   Once we notified them, parts were in the FEDX system within 24 hours and a technician in New Zealand was organized to come here.  Despite the disappointment and concern over the failures, we are grateful for the fast and wonderful service we are getting from Nordhavn and ABT.  However it will delay us by almost ten days.

 

Meeting Garrick Yrongi:  We are staying at the Mai Kai Marina in Bora Bora.  Here we are Med-moored or stern tied to a dock that is attached to the outside terrace of the restaurant.   The main business of the marina is the restaurant and a small hotel that’s part of the little complex.  The restaurant is quite good and is run by Teiva and his wife Jessica (she is a Californian).  Teiva is not only the chef, but also runs the marina and everything else.  He is a very energetic, happy Polynesian who has been extremely helpful to us 

In the restaurant are hung several interesting paintings that I was immediately attracted to.  Rebecca says, they “speak to us”.  They are humorous, bright, and colorful pieces of modern art.  I asked Teiva to introduce us to the artist, Garrick Yrongi.  He is the fourth generation of his family to be artists and sculptures, and he is widely known.   Garrick came by the marina and invited us to his Tuscan style villa, a sprawling compound built on the hillside overlooking the sapphire blue bay and Mt. Otemanu.   On the living room terrace is a life size sculpture in bronze of a gorgeous, nude young woman sculpted by Garrick’s father.  As we were looking at this beautiful woman, Garrick told us it was his mother.  After he told us, I was a little embarrassed to continue looking at her, but she was so beautiful!

We had lunch at his home and he showed us his studio and collection of pottery, sculpture, and paintings.  Our lunch was Poisson Cru accompanied by a fine bottle of Kistler Chardonnay that we brought along for the occasion.  At lunch we discovered that we were both born on the same day, which made for a lovely coincidence and a lot of fun.  The most interesting subject of our conversation evolved around his vision of the world and how he has developed his style of painting and sculpture to express it.  He sees the Polynesians as people with a wonderful spontaneity unfiltered by the psychological defenses necessary in a more complex society.  He sees them as people possessing an innocence of an earlier time.  He loves the light here in Bora Bora, a light that is warm, but changing and pure.  His paintings reflect the dominance of the sea and its creatures, but also the beauty of the flora as it meets the sea, all expressed with his intrinsic good humor and optimism.

Next Stop:  We will be in Bora Bora until at least August 6.  In the meantime, the nasty weather to our west will abate and we will hopefully be on our way soon.  Next stop, Apia, Samoa about 1,200 miles of open ocean to the west.

I will try to [post new pictures on the website before we get underway.

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CAPTAIN’S LOG                                                              The Society Islands 

                                                         Tahiti, Moorea, Huahine, Raiatea, Tahaa, Bora Bora

                                                                                June 29 to August 6, 2014 

Preface

The September issue of PassageMaker magazine has been published and includes a feature article and pictures of our passage through the Panama Canal.  We are very complimented that PassageMaker syndicates our newsletter letter The Argonaut and publishes it on their website.  http://www.passagemaker.com/category/destinations/cruiser-blogs/the-argonaut/

  Rebecca and I have been accepted as members of the Ocean Cruising Club, which isn’t an honor of any sort except that you have to log of miles on the high seas.  It’s just fun to be part of a group of people who have made long open ocean passages.  Members often display their burgees in port so we can identify them and learn of their adventures.

So far we have traveled 10,500 miles on this Pacific trip.

The Society Islands

Tahiti:  We enjoyed a lovely 22 hour cruise down to Papeete from Tikehau.  The sea was calm, we cruised before a light 5 knot breeze, and the sky was blue and clear.  It couldn’t have been more beautiful; perfect for deploying our fishing gear and Father Neptune gave us two Mahi-Mahis and one huge Skip Jack for our effort.  The skip jacks are a type of tuna, and in these waters they grow to twenty-five or thirty pounds.  It was a picturesque passage in every way.

Geography:  Tahiti is located in the middle of the Pacific Ocean about 3,300 miles due south of Hawaii and 2,000 miles northeast of New Zealand.  It is an island formed about two million years ago by ancient volcanos.  Tahiti is made up of two mountains joined by an isthmus to form Tahiti Nui and Tahiti Iti.   Mt. Orohena is the highest peak at about 7,000 ft. above sea level, but it began its ascent over 11,000 ft. below the sea’s surface on the ocean floor.  Its peaks are often surrounded by clouds, and its rugged mountain tops encircle what used to be the volcano’s crater.  Mt. Orohena is composed of basaltic rock, which is soft and has eroded over the centuries into spires and carved edges that delight the eye and the imagination.  Its mountain tops yield to valleys that are covered by jungle vegetation of every description. Papeete sprawls around the northwest edge of the island and flows down the lava slopes.  As we approached the island, we could see lovely homes perched precariously on the hillsides, and the town itself nestled inside the lagoon at the harbor.  The island is surrounded by a coral reef.  Large rollers meet the coral with thunderous roars and white surf.  The coral ring is easily seen as a pale blue circle­­ of water around the island punctuated by rocks that pierce the surfa­­ce and then submerge on the inside of the lagoon to form a dark blue navigable waterway between the island and the reef.  Every so often there is an opening that permits passage over the reef and into the lagoon.

Shortly after we arrived, Rebecca arranged a tour of the island by car; other than in Papeete there is essentially one road around the island.  The island is very steep, so most of the homes and gardens are located near the lagoon that surrounds the island.  It is very lush and verdant providing a high standard of living for Tahitians.  At the southeast end of Tahiti Nui is an isthmus that joins the bigger portion of the island to the smaller Tahiti Iti.   We drove up the side of the mountain on Tahiti Iti to see the view of the isthmus and its surrounding lagoon.  This was one of the most beautiful geographic sights I have ever seen.  Tahiti is also a world renowned surfing location. 

Arriving at Papeete:  Papeete was a welcomed sight to us because we hadn’t been to a town bigger than a few thousand people for several months.  We were looking forward to provisioning and other benefits of civilization.  We entered the lagoon at Passe de Taapuna, about seven miles south of Papeete.  The pass was a little tricky as it is shallow, subject to the effects of the surf and requires several turns in the shallow area, but we negotiated it with only a slightly elevated pulse.  We proceeded north up the lagoon’s channel to Marina Tiana, the largest marina in French Polynesia and home to several hundred boats.  We stern tied to the so-called super yacht wharf and within a few hours we had rented a car, dined at the restaurant on the pier, and began shopping.

Shopping in Papeete was relatively easy.  French is the national language, but English is taught in school and most people are happy to converse in English.  A half mile walk from the marina was a shopping center that was stocked with virtually everything on our provisioning list.  Argo was in need of some oil filters and a couple of extra impellers, and this proved a bit of an adventure to find a heavy equipment parts supplier on the wharf at Papeete.  Driving in alleys and around ships being broken apart for scrap was interesting, and the supplier we found was staffed by knowledgeable and friendly people who were very excited and interested to learn of our adventure. 

The downtown area of Papeete is not particularly memorable from an architectural point of view.   Most of its buildings are of a 60’s vintage that surround a busy, working harbor, but to us it was a welcome respite of civilization after several months in places with few people.  Papeete is the capitol of French Polynesia, which is a protectorate of France.  The French support the country by paying for most of the cost of government (teachers’ salaries, the Gendarmeries, customs and immigration services, and many other government functions – $18 billion), yet there is an active, if ill-advised political movement to separate from France.  Without French subsidies, however, the Confederation of French Polynesia would not enjoy its relatively high standard of living, so I cannot imagine that the majority of Polynesians would be willing to give up French support.  Economic activity here peaked in the 1990’s, with cheap airfares appealing to tourists and black pearls fetching a very high premium.  Today however, the Chinese are selling black pearls cheaper than they can be produced here, and the tourist industry has not recovered from the Great Recession; tourist revenue is below 1997 values.   Papeete is home to the CFP government and offices of the French government.  Students over the age of fifteen from all the seven archipelagoes that make up the CFP come here for high school.  There are universities and a sophisticated medical center here.   Papeete is the main distribution center for all the islands.

     

The money here is the CFP franc.  Its conversion value varies from day to day; on some days we received as little as $1 equals 0.83 francs less a commission of 1% plus a fixed charge of $17.50.  Only some bank offices convert dollars, and their hours of operation are hard to predict what with holidays, the equivalent of a siesta in the afternoon, and local factors.  Banks will only convert $500 at a time, netting us considerably less when all is said and done.  Prices are generally higher than we pay in the U.S., particularly for food and restaurants.  These factors have us relying on our credit cards.  The CFP government waives its tax on fuel and parts purchased by transient yachts, making things more affordable for yachters.  We purchased fuel here for $4.53 a gallon (which I didn’t think was too bad); a hamburger with fries, on the other hand, costs about $20 (which I thought was pretty expensive).

Local Customs:  In talking with our guide, she told us that people in Polynesia do not find it necessary to get married in order to live together or raise a family.  Instead they move in with each other and maintain separate financial dealings and ownership of property.  Women maintain their own name and are free to leave the man or vice versa without legal squabbling.  Sometimes they marry in the church, but often this is done later in life.  I assumed wrongly that people were free to be promiscuous, but she told me that if her partner went wondering, that would be the end of their relationship.  If there is a breakup, the children go with whom they wish, and there are often children from many liaisons living under one roof.  So what’s new?

One thing that is apparent here is that life is slower paced.  The climate is so agreeable and the temperature is never cold, so the cost of housing and clothing is much lower than in the northern hemisphere.  A lot of fruits and vegetables are grown in family gardens, and fish is cheap and plentiful.  People don’t seem to be in much of a hurry, cars are available and expensive, but with only ten miles of road are not the status symbol that they are elsewhere.  Many people live on an island their entire life and are buried with their ancestors on the family homestead.  There is a rich connection to the ancient past.  Land ownership here can be tricky since much of the land is subject to tribal-family claims (requiring perhaps tens if not hundreds of people to approve the sale of their rights), while at the same time the same piece of land may be subject to ownership under subsequent colonial and church claims. The legal system, particular where property ownership is concerned, favors those who look Polynesian. 

Europeans here are primarily from France, and from what I can gather, are people who have opted out of the rat race.  Many own small businesses, shops, or restaurants here.

 

Heiva:  French Polynesians celebrate the “Festival of Life” or Heiva each year in July.  All the islands that we visited had something going on such as out-rigger canoe races, coconut husking competitions, cookouts, and above all dance and singing competitions.  Canoe clubs are popular and easy for us to identify as an athletic event, but the dance groups are something entirely different.  The biggest Heiva is held at Papeete, where dance and choral groups from all over the hundreds of Polynesian islands come to perform and compete. 

Dance groups are formed as a social club in many villages or islands such as the Huahine Island group that we saw perform one evening.  Dance groups have a membership of perhaps 150 people with about 20 of them being orchestra members and the rest being dancers.  They practice for six or eight months before the Heiva begins each summer, readying themselves for the competition.   The orchestra is predominately a percussion orchestra comprised of several different size drums, a ukulele chorus, and other unusual instruments.  The performance begins when the orchestra creates a primitive, pulsating, loud, rhythmic sound that will soon send the dancers into an erotic frenzy.  At other times during the performance they sound like a Kabuki orchestra, making it all the more exotic.  A narrative in the Tahitian language is given by what appears to be a chief or shaman who relates a mythical story of how the islands were formed by Maui or Pele or some other god or goddess, or perhaps the story of a great battle between tribes in ancient times; the dancers then interpret the story in dance.  When the narrative is over the dancers swing into action.  The dance is viewed by the audience in an arena setting, so that they can appreciate the choreography and precision movements of this tribe of people.  The dancers are dressed in costumes made of grass, leaves and flowers.   They are quite beautiful and very colorful.  The females move their hips with amazing rapidity that is clearly intended to be erotic, while the men move their thighs in a way that reminds me somehow of spawning or reproduction in the animal world.  In any case, it is a spectacle to behold.   The dance lasts about an hour and closes when the males and females pair off, all the while shaking and quivering as they and the audience reach a point of ecstasy as the drum beat intensifies.  It seems to evoke ancient tribal customs, sometimes savage, sometimes erotic.  If you allow yourself to get caught up in it, you can almost smell a missionary roasting on the spit!

The Credit Card Debacle:  We have had a devil of a time with our VISA cards.  We carried two of them from different banks as insurance against having one cancelled, but as fate would have it they were both canceled in the course of our travels because of fraud issues with participating stores.  After literally hours and hours of phone time, repeatedly answering the same security questions over and over and talking with all levels of incompetence, having the phone blank out after talking to the third tier in their hierarchy and having to start all over at the bottom rung again, we sweated out having new cards sent to Marina Tiana.  In the course of trying to track them and find out if they made it here, we discovered that the lame brain in the Bank of America’s VISA office sent it to “Tamiti”.  Of course there is no such place.  To make matters worse, the UPS form doesn’t have enough lines on the computerized address label to accommodate addresses here, so this increased our anxiety.   As the days ticked off, we finally got a tracking number and learned that the cards actually got to Papeete.  UPS uses a private vender here.  The phone system here is adding two digits to all phone numbers, so once we found the right number, we contacted them and arranged to drive over to their offices and pick up our cards since they had no idea of the final address to which they should have been delivered.  All’s well that ends well, I suppose, but our AT&T bill was over $1,400 largely due to calls to the credit card companies!

New Friends:  One of the greatest pleasures of traveling on a yacht is meeting new and interesting people.  In the Tiana Marina we met several couples that we really enjoyed.  One was Don and Laurie aboard True Blue: he was a prominent plastic surgeon and she an interior designer.  Don told me that last year they sold everything: the house in Sausalito, the helicopter, the motorcycle, the cars …everything, and bought their Oyster 66 and began their odyssey.  They’re having a wonderful time and dealing with a few bumps here and there, like their captain and his girlfriend (the cook) getting into a terrible row leading to their departure and the emergency hiring of a replacement captain, and don’t forget the failed generator that took three weeks to get parts for.

Johnny and Veronica and their three kids moored next to us on Walkabout, a Nordhavn 62; they have been spending the three summer months when the kids are out of school sailing as far as possible.  They leave their yacht in the last port they reach for nine months until next season.  They have traveled up the west coast to Alaska, then across the Aleutian Islands and down to Japan, then to Korea, Shanghai, Vietnam, and other places including Borneo, where they sailed up a river and saw orangutans, pigmy elephants and other exotic creatures. 

Julie and Mike: My sister and her husband, Mike, flew into Papeete for a two week visit with us.  They are sharing all the experiences that I am describing, particularly the Heivai Dance festivals and snorkeling. 

Moorea: After almost two weeks in Papeete we shoved off for Moorea, a gorgeous island just twelve miles away. Our passage was a little rough, as wind speeds reached around 25 knots and seas were in the six foot range.  Julie gets sea sick easily and this little jaunt was no exception.  She is a good sport and after getting sick she just came back up on deck for more.

The passage across the reef into Cook’s Bay was easy.  We anchored in 60 ft. of water near boats that we had seen in other anchorages.  Cook’s Bay is one of the most beautiful places I have ever been.   Like other Polynesian ports of call, the bay is the remnant of an ancient volcano with the eroded sides of the crater forming the peaks of the mountains.   Like Tahiti, Moorea is surrounded by a coral reef that is teeming with all types of colorful tropical fish.  It wasn’t long before we arranged for a scuba dive on the reef, the big attraction of which was the sighting of a huge 9 ft. lemon shark.  Unfortunately it was a rainy day, and underwater that didn’t make any difference except that it was rather low light and a little chilly after two dives

The next day we toured the island with our charming Polynesian guide, Paulina, and saw the vista from Belvidere, went to the local distillery, saw the ruins of her ancestors, and had lunch at Snack Mahana.  The place occupied a beautiful waterfront location and served up gourmet fare known far and wide, including its featured dish, Poisson Cru lait coco Tahiti, a raw tuna salad in coconut milk that was simply delicious.  It is made with slices of raw blue or yellow fin tuna marinated in coconut milk and lime and served with cucumber slices and onion.

Of course no tour would be complete without a little shopping, and Moorea had some very nice artisan shops that Julie and Mike took advantage of including the black pearl jeweler. 

That afternoon Julie, Mike and I took the tender on a snorkeling expedition.  This proved interesting in that we saw quit a few sting rays and managed to get stuck in shallow water in the labyrinth of the coral reef, but otherwise all was fine and it was a lot of fun. 

 

Huahine:  We decided to do a night cruise to Huahine so that Julie and Mike could see the ocean and sky at night.  It was almost 100 miles from Moorea to Huahine and it was a lovely evening for a cruise.  We left Moorea at 1700 and by the time we transited the pass into the open ocean the sun had nearly set.   The cruise was everything I had hoped it would be for them: the sky was pitch black and the stars twinkled in the firmament with a brilliance of clarity and in numbers that bewitch the mind.  The Milky Way appears as a cloud of star dust extending from one horizon to the other.  The waves peeling back from ARGO’s bow revealed stars in the water – star light like bursts from the plankton rising from thousands of feet below.

We made Huahine the following morning and put in at the little village of Fare, and fair it was.  We anchored in 90 feet of water and laid out 450 feet of chain; it’s a good thing I ordered 650 feet of chain on this boat!  Tyler secured Argo and gave her a bath after our cruise.  Everyone else but me went ashore for shopping and reconnoitering while I laid low with very bad cold.  That evening I managed to join the family for a really great happy hour and dinner at the beach front restaurant, which we later found out is known to boaters far and wide.   After dinner we went to the local Heiva, which was very provincial compared to the more professional performances in Papeete.  We stayed overnight and the next day we cruised down the lagoon to another anchorage that was not only a visual knockout, but had some of the most beautiful coral formations we had seen.  The troupe went snorkeling while I nursed my cold.  After they returned and dined on one of Rebecca’s fabulous meals, we took the dingy through a passage to another bay that connected to the other side of the islands.  There we found a little tavern.  We enjoyed a libation in a very rural and authentic setting, and it gave Mike a chance to pick up the bill as I forgot my wallet. 

Raiatea and Tahaa:  The next morning we hoisted the anchor and departed for Raiatea, a couple of hours away.  It was a beautiful day, but the fish weren’t at all interested in what we had to offer.  We moored at the town dock at Uturoa and dined at the little French restaurant on the dock.  We were all anxious to get to Bora Bora because of all we had heard about it.  That evening Harry Smith, an Australian that we meet in Jamaica and who had made the crossing during the same time period that we had, came by for a visit.  He offered us some advice on Tahaa, the next island, and reported a phenomenal coral garden there.  He also helped me plan our 2016 trip down the coast of Australia to Tasmania.  The next morning we left Raiatea and moved over to Tahaa, which was only a few miles away.  After we anchored in a secluded bay, we launched the tender and spent two days floating in the fabulous wonder of its coral garden.  It was located in a channel between two motus with the sea water from the outer reef flowing through rather briskly to keep things fresh for all sorts of fish, corals and other creatures.  We anchored our tender at one end of the channel and walked up the motu to the head water about ¼ mile away, and then floated down the channel to our boat, all the while watching the fabulous aquatic scenery as we floated by.  Among the hundreds of brightly colored tropical fish swimming about their business oblivious to us, were two particularly interesting creatures that I hadn’t seen before.   One was a sea anemone that was a beautiful red color with sticky tan tentacles and beautiful little fish weaving in and out.  The other were maxima clams or small giant clams with the curved edges that have beautifully blue, red or brown colored lips.  It was so fabulous it can’t be described.

Bora Bora:  We reluctantly left Tahaa but looked forward to coming into Bora Bora, which is a seminal experience for a captain; it’s like coming into New York or San Francisco harbors.  The pass channel is wide and easily navigated, but the bay is full of coral heads and reefs.  As we entered we saw the beautiful rollers breaking on the reef on both sides, the reef awash with turquoise water, and the deep blue lagoon inside the reef.  Dominating the whole scene is a huge megalith of a receding mountain named Mt. Otemanu that was once a mighty volcano.  The caldera beneath the volcano has cooled and the mountain has eroded and collapsed over the centuries; it sinks about a centimeter a year into the sea.   Eventually it will be like the Tuamotus. i.e., a ring of motus surrounding a lagoon.

 We expected a bustling island with lots to do and see, but in reality it is a small and quiet place with only a few restaurants.  Most of the activity here is at the famous hotels and resorts scattered about the motus that surround the island.  The room prices are an unbelievable $2- 3,000 per night.  A friend of ours went to a cheap $1,200 place where they got the third night free.  We have been told that the resorts are all full, yet you don’t see many tourists about as they are locked away behind the gates of their resort. 

Julie and Mike had a few more days with us so we planned an island tour that proved to be fantastic.  We were picked up by a four wheel drive open back Range Rover pickup truck with bench seats in the bed.  I must say I wasn’t very enthusiastic at first, but in a few minutes I was having a lot of fun.   This thing climbed 50⁰ slopes: it was fantastic.  We climbed all over the mountain including a place where the Americans had placed gun mounts during the Second World War.  We examined the guns, which had a legend marked with the name of the manufacturer and the date of manufacture: 1907.  I asked our guide about this and he told me that they were taken from ships that were sunk at Pearl Harbor on December 7^th.  Later they were removed from the sunken ships and brought here as defensive weapons.  They were probably part of the weaponry on the Battleship Texas or some other old ship that wasn’t salvaged after the attack.  The guns looked like they were cut from the ship’s deck plate, moved here, and then cemented into position on the top of the hill, deck plate and all. 

One of the interesting things we found on the tour aside from the fabulous views from the mountain peaks, was the fact that people here bury their dead next to their homes.  As we drove up the mountain side we could see that almost all the homes had small, roofed tombs in the yard near the home with colorful plastic flowers to memorialize their ancestors who were buried there. 

Life on the Dock:  During the last few days Tyler, handsome and youthful as he is, has been the object of attention from at least two young women who have found themselves stranded on the dock here in Bora Bora.  It seems they were crewing on sailboats that are crossing the Pacific.  Usually these women offer to cook, clean, and perhaps stand watch in exchange for free passage across the ocean.  As you can imagine, people often get annoyed with one another while being in close quarters over such a long time period, so it isn’t unusual to see people leave a boat and look for other arrangements.   Sometimes they fall in love, dare I say?  In the two cases this week, the captains put it to them bluntly.  The ladies took great offense and in their righteous indignation immediately left their boats, penniless and without an apparent means of support.  We fed one hungry young women (a 30 year old Chilean on her way to New Zealand for a job)) a healthy meal, and both found temporary accommodations on other sailboats until some stability in their lives could be arranged.  After a brief period of time during which strangers rallied to extend a helping hand,  both have now moved on to new arrangements and the dock has return to the its normal tranquil and bucolic state.    

One of the sailors hold up in Bora Bora waiting on the weather reported that one of the men associated with the hassle with the ladies mentioned above, left port without the permission of the gendarmes and without a clearance to the next port.   At his next port of call he could face a stiff fine, perhaps as much as $10,000 and/or be required to retrace his steps back to the last port and obtain a clearance there.   He is now 800 miles out at sea, in seas of 14 ft. and winds over 30 knots, having lost his mainsail and his engine.  

Getting Underway:  After Julie and Mike left we planned to get underway for American Samoa.  We found out from our fuel agent that American Samoa requires a customs agent for motor yachts (but not sailboats) to enter American Samoa.   The agent’s fee is $500, plus a bunch of other government fees, so we decided to skip the islands and their hospitality.  Instead we decided to move along to independent Samoa about 100 miles further west, which as far as I know is more reasonable.  The passage is 1,200 miles that will take about six days.  The weather will be less than ideal, but we are looking forward to the trip.  In the course of preparing ARGO we discovered a few problems.

 Mechanical Problems:  In preparing for any long voyage we check the yacht thoroughly.  This time Tyler found the unwelcomed presence of hydraulic fluid in our bilge, which is not a good sign.  As you know the hydraulic system has been a repeated source of difficulties.  We began to hunt around for the source of the leak and found that the actuator on our port stabilizer had begun to seep oil, but it was a small and slow leak, not enough to cause us to lose two gallons of oil.   Up forward however, we found two more leaks at the manifolds of the windless and thruster.  Apparently two seals had failed and oil under 3,400 lbs. of pressure was spraying everywhere.   It was a mess and a very big concern. 

Lucky for us we bought Argo from Nordhavn, which subcontracts the hydraulic system from American Bow Thruster, Inc.   Once we notified them, parts were in the FEDX system within 24 hours and a technician in New Zealand was organized to come here.  Despite the disappointment and concern over the failures, we are grateful for the fast and wonderful service we are getting from Nordhavn and ABT.  However it will delay us by almost ten days.

 

Meeting Garrick Yrongi:  We are staying at the Mai Kai Marina in Bora Bora.  Here we are Med-moored or stern tied to a dock that is attached to the outside terrace of the restaurant.   The main business of the marina is the restaurant and a small hotel that’s part of the little complex.  The restaurant is quite good and is run by Teiva and his wife Jessica (she is a Californian).  Teiva is not only the chef, but also runs the marina and everything else.  He is a very energetic, happy Polynesian who has been extremely helpful to us 

In the restaurant are hung several interesting paintings that I was immediately attracted to.  Rebecca says, they “speak to us”.  They are humorous, bright, and colorful pieces of modern art.  I asked Teiva to introduce us to the artist, Garrick Yrongi.  He is the fourth generation of his family to be artists and sculptures, and he is widely known.   Garrick came by the marina and invited us to his Tuscan style villa, a sprawling compound built on the hillside overlooking the sapphire blue bay and Mt. Otemanu.   On the living room terrace is a life size sculpture in bronze of a gorgeous, nude young woman sculpted by Garrick’s father.  As we were looking at this beautiful woman, Garrick told us it was his mother.  After he told us, I was a little embarrassed to continue looking at her, but she was so beautiful!

We had lunch at his home and he showed us his studio and collection of pottery, sculpture, and paintings.  Our lunch was Poisson Cru accompanied by a fine bottle of Kistler Chardonnay that we brought along for the occasion.  At lunch we discovered that we were both born on the same day, which made for a lovely coincidence and a lot of fun.  The most interesting subject of our conversation evolved around his vision of the world and how he has developed his style of painting and sculpture to express it.  He sees the Polynesians as people with a wonderful spontaneity unfiltered by the psychological defenses necessary in a more complex society.  He sees them as people possessing an innocence of an earlier time.  He loves the light here in Bora Bora, a light that is warm, but changing and pure.  His paintings reflect the dominance of the sea and its creatures, but also the beauty of the flora as it meets the sea, all expressed with his intrinsic good humor and optimism.

Next Stop:  We will be in Bora Bora until at least August 6.  In the meantime, the nasty weather to our west will abate and we will hopefully be on our way soon.  Next stop, Apia, Samoa about 1,200 miles of open ocean to the west.

I will try to [post new pictures on the website before we get underway.

CAPTAIN’S LOG                The Tuamotus 

           June 3 to June 28, 2014 

the Tuamotus

The Tuamotus is an archipelago made up of 77 atolls.  Each atoll is composed of a circle of motus or islets made of coral sand and rock perched on the rim of an ancient volcano and enclosing a lagoon.    The motus are barren except for coconuts and breadfruit trees, and have a maximum elevation of about ten feet above the sea.  The only source of fresh water on these islets is rainwater.  There are no fruits or vegetables on these atolls, nor are there any indigenous animals.  There is almost no known history to these islands, but it is thought that human beings first came here from the Marquesas in 1000 AD.  The motus enclose a lagoon, the largest of which is about 20 miles in diameter.   The atolls are very beautiful and enclose a wealth of sea life that is relatively easy to access and provide some of the best dive sites in the world.  In cruising near the Tuamotus one is struck by the contrasting color of the deep blue indigo ocean, the light sand the motu shore, the green of the coconut palms, the aqua color of the lagoons, and the clouds sailing across the light blue sky.  

Passage to the Tuamotus

We left the beautiful anchorage at Fatu Hiva at 1030 headed for Fakarava 540 miles southeast, one of the more popular and larger atolls in the archipelago. The seas were calm for the first couple of hours, then we passed outside the shelter of Fatu Hiva and the swells built and built until we were in high, combing seas of ten to fifteen feet.  Waves of this size are really large and quite intimidating.  Argo did nicely, but Lyle was green and seasick and spent most of the next two days and nights on the couch in the salon trying to remain as quiet as possible.   The rest of us had varying degrees of mal de mar, but we were in pretty good shape.  After fifteen hours of somewhat miserable conditions, I began to consider alternatives to lessen our discomfort.  After a group discussion, we decided to alter to a less strenuous course and go to the little atoll named Ahe.  Just then the hydraulic alarm sounded indicating an overheating situation.  This is a critical problem for Argo as she needs her stabilizers to maintain her posture, otherwise she would roll uncontrollably in these seas.  It was pitch dark and the swells were huge.  Gus and Rebecca stood by the doors to the pilothouse trying to see the exact direction of the waves so that I could be sure to point her into them and avoid as much as possible rolling violently from side to side.  Tyler, who was now awake, rushed to the engine room to look at the impeller on the hydraulic cooling pump. We had changed it in Panama, so he knew exactly what to do.  In an amazingly short period of time he had it replaced and we resumed our course in comfort and confidence.  After things were repaired, he brought the defective impeller up to the pilothouse and I could see that it seemed to have over heated; strange for something that should be pumping water.  On our new course to Ahe the angle to the swells improved and things got a little better.  After a couple of hours Lyle started to come around and everyone seemed to perk up as the waves were still huge, but their moment lengthened allowing Argo to ride up and down rather than roll sideways off them. 

On the third day we began to feel better and almost enjoy the cruise when the hydraulic alarm sounded again (36 hours later).  This was an unwelcomed surprise.  Once again we had a potentially serious problem on our hands.  Thankfully it was daylight and the waves were somewhat better for dealing with this problem.  I turned Argo into the waves again and Tyler and Gus flew to the engine room.  Tyler checked out the strainer and then the impeller.  The strainer was clear, but all the blades of the impeller had been sheared off. We looked for an obvious reason for this unusual part failure, but nothing seemed apparent.  We replaced the impeller and things returned to normal, for a while.  We talked about the problem and concluded that the sea water strainer had begun to rust.  It looked as though small bits of it could have broken loose and made their way into the impeller shearing off the rubber blades, although this was unlikely. (Later, after consultation with experts, we learned that Globe Impellers can weaken over time.  The impellers we recently purchased were probably defective, leading to their failure. No more Globe Impellers for us!).  By 0630 we were close to Ahe and looking forward to anchoring in a calm harbor. 

Ahe Atoll

Getting into atolls can be difficult and most have only one entry pass or channel.  In the case of Ahe, its entry pass was very narrow (maybe 50 feet), very shallow (13 feet), surrounded by coral shelves, subject to very swift currents at tidal changes (9 knots), and requiring mid-channel turns.  The ocean near Ahe is over 18,000 feet deep and rises almost straight up to the motus or islands that make up the atoll like beads on a necklace.  Once inside the atoll the lagoon is comparatively shallow, crystal clear, and a beautiful turquoise color.  The motus are white sand islands covered in coconut palms.  Some of the motus have houses on them and the lagoon near them is dotted with buoys that are attached to oyster beds that are used to cultivate the famous Tahitian black pearls.  The Ahe lagoon is about 16 miles long by 8 miles wide.  At one end is a little village with a government dock at which we moored.  It was the first time since leaving Shelter Bay Marina in Panama that Argo was in a calm anchorage. 

The village was home to a couple hundred people.  They started showing up at the dock when we arrived: kids in swimsuits or underwear, adults riding three wheeled bikes, men interested in boats, the local gendarme and several transvestites.  The village had two streets and an intersection. The homes were small bungalows on paved streets surrounded by tropical plants and flowers, and each had a rainwater collection system for drinking water.  There was a Catholic Church and a Mormon Temple of sorts and the only restaurant was a hamburger stand that for $13 provided fries, a burger, and a drink (the voracious flies were complimentary!). 

The first day in port we rested and took a swim off our swim platform.  Tyler dove Argo’s bottom to see if anything was clogging the water intake for the hydraulic cooling pump or the water maker.  His report: all was in apple pie order!   Our conclusion is that the problems with the water maker and the cooling pump are the result of cavitation caused by turbulent seas.  This causes air to be sucked into the pumps, lessening their effectiveness.  The proposed solution is to install scoop strainers to the hull at our next haul out, which would force water into the intakes when we are underway and lessen or eliminate the problem.

The second day we took an eight mile excursion across the lagoon to the lovely Pension Chez Riata for lunch.  When we arrived, Riata was standing on the white sand beach, ukulele in hand singing Polynesian songs that she recorded in her youth (CDs anyone?).  The scene was picture postcard perfect.

Lunch was served after a refreshment of fresh lemonade and fried banana chips.  Riata and her husband, Willy, told us about their life on Ahe and their travels.  They come to the United States each year to visit relatives and for shopping and skiing: she shops, he skis.  Lunch began with an appetizer of thinly sliced pearl oysters marinated in garlic, oil, and lime served on an oyster shell.  These shells are rather flat and about eight inches in diameter, not like the typical New England variety.  The entre’ was fresh white fish sautéed in bread crumbs and coconut, accompanied with bread fruit, green beans, and a nice White Bordeaux.  Dessert was a fabulous yellow cake with a vanilla cream center and chocolate glaze frosting.  Rebecca doesn’t eat much, but she did eat that!

The next day, Sunday, we had hoped to move up the lagoon to anchor at Chez Riata, but unfortunately a squall line came through and it rained torrentially all day.  We tried playing cards, but soon migrated to watching movies.   The next day, Monday, the sky cleared and we got underway at 0630 for Rangiroa 75 miles to the south.  We tried fishing, but only succeeded in losing a couple of lures and catching the fattest Skip-Jack we ever saw.   It was a pleasant cruise, if not productive, and we arrived in Rangiroa about 1800.

Rangiroa

Prior to entering a harbor we study the navigation charts carefully, obtain tide information, and talk with others who have been there–sailors if possible.  Prior to coming to Rangiroa we learned that the 125 foot French Customs Military boat (made of steel with a picture on www.tischtravels.com) hit a reef nearby and sank.  This was very unsettling.  Our charts showed the path to Rangiroa as a rhumbline course through the very narrow Tiputa Pass, which required several turns in a narrow channel to avoid reefs.   We approached the pass at 1800 hours.  The sun was setting, it was getting dark rapidly, and in order to make a safe passage we needed light to see the banks of the channel.  Time was of the essence.  From the pilot house we could see a channel between two motus with white water and high surf rolling in from the ocean to the mouth of the channel.  The chart showed the channel to be surrounded by reefs and subject to strong currents.    Because the surf was high I judged that the current was outflowing, which was favorable to our entry because it would aid our steering if it wasn’t too strong (more water flowing past the rudder makes the rudder answer up faster causing the yacht to turn more responsively).  We proceeded nervously, judging that we still had enough light to see the banks of the channel.  Argo’s bow began to lurch from port to starboard as the swells pushed her from one side to the other.  She was pitching up and down about eight feet as the waves rolled under her.  I didn’t fight the movement from the helm, but let her move in a natural manner.  As we moved forward the side to side movement increased, but we seemed to have steerageway, so I maintained about 7 knots speed and hoped that we would stay online without exerting additional force which might result in a lot of unproductive maneuvering.  Slowly we moved forward and finally we began to leave the swell zone, mindful of the waves crashing on the reef to either side.  As the waves subsided our speed fell off rapidly; we had entered the narrow zone where the outgoing current is confined and focused.  As our speed dropped I increased our RPMs so as to maintain steerageway.  The current was so strong that 2100 rpms (which would normally move us at ten knots) was now propelling us at just under four and a half knots.  This was another tense moment.  We had the wing engine and thrusters ready to use if we lost headway, but after a very long two minutes we began to gain speed against the apparent six knot current.  Tyler was on the bow pulpit looking for coral heads.  When our speed reached six knots I began to ease back on the power so that we could make a 45^o turn to port and not over run the turn and slide into the next reef.  Argo didn’t turn easily because of the current and I couldn’t be sure of the accuracy of our charts in such a confined space, but in due course we made the turn, we were past the reef and safely inside the atoll.   By then it was pitch dark.  We could see the mast lights of several boats at anchor, and we began to look for a suitable place to drop our anchor.  Not all sailboats turn on their masthead lights, so I turned on our night vision to try and see them in the dark. 

Special skills are required when anchoring in an atoll or near coral formations.  The sea floor can be spotted with coral heads and rock piles.  If you anchor near any of these obstructions, the anchor chain can become entangled or wrapped around them as the boat turns in the wind.  If a swell forms and rolls under the boat it can raise the forecastle and potentially damage the boat if the chain holds it firm and makes it impossible for the yacht to answer the sea state.  In the case of Rangiroa there is a twenty mile fetch across the atoll, so large waves were possible under certain wind conditions.   The recommended way of dealing with this problem is to lay out extra scope, buoyed by a float so as to isolate the boat from a chain that is caught on a coral head. 

We used our sonar to identify an area without coral heads and wound up anchoring in 75 feet of water.  We laid out 450 ft. of chain and then enjoyed one of Rebecca’s masterpieces of galley fare: a wonderful dinner of scallops, risotto and bok choy with a lovely White Bordeaux followed by rum bananas and ice cream for dessert.   

The Rangiroa Atoll is about 75 miles in circumference and encloses the second largest lagoon in the world. It has the largest village in the Tuamotus and is also one of the world’s top dive sites.  Many divers from around the world come here, particularly Japanese divers, to experience the coral reefs at the two passes, Tiputa and Avatoru.  (The Japanese divers are the ones with large and exotic underwater cameras and multiple electronic gadgets attached to their arms and dive suits.) These reefs are large, in good condition, and home to an amazingly large variety of sea life including tuna, sharks and dolphins.  Inside of Tiputa Pass is a large lagoon reef that we circled on our way into the atoll.  It is situated in quiet water and perfect for beginner divers.  The locals call it “The Aquarium”, and for good reason; it is full of colorful fish of many species including lemon sharks, barracudas, and moray eels.  Gus, Lyle, Rebecca and I took our initial scuba qualification dives here shortly after we arrived. 

The Tuamotus are coral motus or islets and have no native edible plants other than coconut and breadfruit.  Fruits and vegetables are scarce.  Onboard we have stored fruit found in other parts of French Polynesia including a grapefruit like fruit called a pamplemousse.  This fruit is about two or three times the size of a grapefruit, but sweeter.  It’s delicious. There are a few restaurants here that offer wonderful fresh fish and New Zealand lamb and beef.  The one thing I have particularly enjoyed is tuna ceviche salad prepared in coconut milk.  It is heavenly.

The beaches are coral rock and sand, not really suitable for swimming.  They are lined with coconut palms.  The water is crystal clear with the color ranging from turquoise to indigo to cerulean blue.   It is absolutely gorgeous.  Besides tourism, the Tuamotus are home to the black pearl industry. We toured a pearl farm located just west of us that has over two million oysters under cultivation.  During our visit they operated on oysters and showed us how a blank seed (obtained from muscles raised in the Mississippi River) is inserted in the appendix of an oyster and how they graft another piece of an appendix from a sacrificial oyster to start the process of culturing a pearl.   It was very interesting and of course they had a show room with plenty of inventory.

Tyler’s objective since beginning this voyage has been to become a Master Diver, and to that end he has been diving almost every day.  One of his dives was on the outside reef at Tiputa Pass where a number of dolphins are known to come in from the sea every afternoon.  During an afternoon dive, one of them approached Tyler, rolled onto its back and closed its eyes while he stroked its stomach.   The dolphin stayed with him for a couple of minutes until an older dolphin, perhaps its mother, urged it back to the pack and they all swam out to sea together.  While Rebecca and I were diving the reef earlier in the day, we saw several dolphins including one mother with baby, which was thrilling. That experience made us feel as though we were part of the whole panoply of sea life.   While we were hovering in the current at a depth of about 75 feet and enjoying the dolphins, below us at 125 feet or so was a very large school of several hundred fish, perhaps Maori Perch or Bream.  There we saw several beautiful, spectacular, silver darts in the sea; white and black tip sharks cruising outside the school of fish and occasionally darting through them.  When a shark did so the whole school scattered like sparrows on the wind.   As we drifted along and past this area of the reef, I must admit to looking behind and over my shoulder to see if any sharks were following; an unavoidable consequence of being part of the Jaws generation.  

The nearest motu to our anchorage has a very nice hotel located on it, the Kia Ora, which features Polynesian style huts and bungalows with thatched roofs, some built over the turquoise blue lagoon, others in a village configuration.  It is a Polynesian paradise for sure and just the sort of place that is featured in everyone’s dreams of the South Pacific.  Our friends, Gus and Lyle, treated us to three days in one of these splendid over-the-water bungalows at the end of their visit on Argo.  It was just what we needed after a long voyage, and a very generous gift indeed!  We were particularly grateful to be at the Kia Ora as it had been about ten weeks since we had been in a first class restaurant with a bar.  After three days at Kia Ora, we bade a fond farewell to our good friends and returned home to Argo.  When we arrived back aboard Argo she was shinier than new.  Tyler had taken this three day respite at anchor as an opportunity to wax and clean her after months of sea time.  She looked beautiful.  At this point, after five months underway she is the only motor yacht we have seen in the South Pacific. 

We stood out from Rangiroa at 0730 Sunday morning June 22 bound for Tikehau, a small atoll about twenty miles west of Rangiroa.  We made Tiputa Pass at slack tide and enjoyed a glorious passage to Tikehau.  The sky was clear, the weather calm, and the day was perhaps the best of our cruise so far.  A few minutes out of the pass we were joined by a pod of the largest dolphins we have ever seen.  They swam toward Argo and jumped high in the air as if to celebrate finding us and to announce their presence.  Several of them were perhaps eight or nine feet long and three or four hundred pounds.  They were fabulous animals and a joy to see!

 Tikehau

Tikehau is a small atoll like Ahe, but known as a great dive spot.  Its most famous dive site is inside the lagoon and is a Manta Ray “cleaning station” where Mantas come to have resident fish clean them of parasites. 

 

We made Passe Tuheiava at slack tide and the passage through it was straight forward and uneventful.  We turned south in the lagoon, went about six miles to Village Tuherahera, home to a couple of pensions, a luxury hotel similar to Kia Ora, and a dive shop.  We called the dive shop and arranged two dives at the pass for the following morning.

 

At 0830 sharp the next morning (Monday) a dive boat arrived and took Tyler and me first to the reef inside the lagoon to see if any Manta Rays were in for a cleaning; unfortunately they were not.  Then we went outside the pass for two dives, one on each side of the channel.  The water was 83 degrees with a brilliant blue sky overhead, no wind, and a sea as calm as a mill pond.   We donned our scuba tanks and fell back off the aluminum boat into the sea.  Suddenly we were practically weightless and enjoying the illusion of flying over the coral reef.  As we descended to 93 feet we could see large schools of fish including Big Eye Tuna, Maori Perch, Jacks, Snappers, Barracuda, thousands of tropical fish of every imaginable color and configuration, a large White Tip Shark, and a huge emerald green and blue, domed head Napoleon fish that surely weighed in at 100 lbs and just casually floated past looking at us curiously.  It was glorious.  We arrived back at Argo at 1400 and enjoyed a lunch on the back deck.  Rebecca had stayed aboard and accomplished most of the items on her list: doing six loads of laundry, baking a couple dozen cookies, cleaning the shower, and miscellaneous other tasks.  She is a doer!

 

On Tuesday a squall line moved through and brought with it wind and rain, so we stayed onboard.  On Wednesday cabin fever got the best of us and we took the tender to town despite the squalls. The Village Tuherahera covers most of a small motu. It looked like home to about 1,000 people.  The roads are nicely paved, the homes are a sort of bungalow ranch style and placed on about a half-acre of land.  Some have windows, others are just open to the breeze.   Many are surrounded by beautiful tropical flowering plants.  There are two Catholic churches with large buildings for social events.  Everyone seems to have a car, truck, or motor bike which seemed surprising to us given that the motu couldn’t be more than two miles long and a few hundred yards wide.  Anyway, everyone has a vehicle.  Fanny, our dive instructor, told me that since there is no gasoline station on the motu, people ship their gasoline in from Tahiti in drums.  They need a truck to carry the barrels from the dock to their boats.  There are a couple of small restaurants, but they keep irregular hours so no one knows when they are open unless they call the proprietor on the phone (if it is working).   The village has a tiny grocery, but it has no fresh vegetables or fruit.  I don’t know what people eat here, but I do know that seafood gets a little boring after a couple of weeks.  There are no shops or stores for any other products; I suppose people go to Papeete by plane if they need something, which is 170 mile due south of here.  Maybe they order by phone or on the very slow internet and have it shipped via the weekly supply ship that comes here. Roosters strut about and crow all the time, and large eared dogs are everywhere.  Vacationers from Europe are the most frequent visitors.  There are no bars or other forms of entertainment, but there are a couple of pensions that cater to the tourists.  So it isn’t much of a place for a single person; honeymooners on the other hand, flock here.  The motu has three things going for it: beautiful pink coral beaches, magnificent sunsets, and lovely dive sights.  If you are looking for a place to vacation that’s away from it all, and I mean all, Tikehau is it!

 

On Thursday another squall line was passing through.  In the Tikehau Atoll, waves have a fetch of about ten miles, so they can build to a muscular size in 30 + knot winds.  Winds reached 30 MPH on Thursday and the waves at this end of the atoll reached about four feet.  Argo pitched and pulled, but her anchor held firm.  Our dingy rode the surf behind Argo and rose above our transom on the waves, which is saying something.

 

Friday was our lucky day.  The sun rose and presented us with a beautiful day; gone was the wind and rain.   Fanny, the charming and pretty French dive instructor, came by around 0900 with a dive boat full of tourists.  She picked us up from Argo and took us to two wonderful dive spots.  The first one was a coral head in the lagoon that Manta Rays frequent to have parasites removed by Remoras and other fish.  Rebecca and I fell off the boat into an amazing primordial scene:  huge Manta Rays with wings eight or ten feet across were floating above us over the reef.  Their top side is black and their underside is white.  They have wide set eyes placed on the end of protruding limbs on either side of its mouth, and below the limbs and eyes are articulating flaps that they use to cover their mouth or guide food.  In this case they guided juvenile fish of a specie common on the reef into their huge, gaping mouth, and the little fish went about their business of cleaning their mouth, eyes, and gills.  The little fish formed a ball of dense black living organisms within the Manta Ray.   The Manta moved slowly through the water so as not to dislodge the little critters.   Under the great fish were Remoras, members of the shark family that have a sucker apparatus on the top of their heads. They were cleaning the Manta’s underside.  Rebecca and I gazed transfixed at the scene we were privileged to witness and wondered: For how many millions of years has this been going on? 

 

Our second dive was on Buoy Reef, just the outside of the pass.  The water here is crystal clear and full of sea life, certainly among the best dive spots in the world.  This was Rebecca’s first dive here.  On today’s dive we saw a White Tip Shark, which was intimidating and attention getting as it swam close enough to give us a good look before abruptly turning and heading away (thank God).  We also saw a Manta Ray on this reef, which was quit lovely.   Two dangerous animals also got our attention. First was a Rock Fish, which was hiding in a hole on the reef.  They are very difficult to see as they hide deep in a crevasse and are so well camouflaged that you can’t tell them from a rock.   They sport deadly spines to keep unwelcomed visitors at bay, and they have a tongue that looks like a little fish to attract dinner guests to their table.  The other animal we saw was a Morey Eel; always a little disturbing (I suppose because it is hard to relate to them and they have teeth)!

 

After the dive we returned to Argo and prepared to stand out for Papeete, Tahiti, 167 miles to the south.  It was a beautiful day for a cruise; bright sunshine, a cloudless sky, a following 8 knot wind and 3 foot sea.  We don’t get enough days like this!  We started to raise the anchor, but the chain had apparently gotten caught on a coral head. We worked on it for ten or fifteen minutes and I thought Tyler might have to make a dive on the anchor, but by maneuvering the boat around and pulling as hard as seemed prudent, it eventually came loose and we were underway.   On the way out we deployed our fishing lines in the hopes of catching something in the pass.  Shortly after we cleared the pass and turned on our course, King Neptune offered up a beautiful Mahi-Mahi. 

 

The passage to Papeete is an overnight run.  Rebecca and I take the evening watch from 1800 to 0000.  Tyler takes the night watch from 0000 to 0700.  I take the 0700 to 1200, Tyler and I take turns as it suits us on the afternoon watch.  We all enjoy the night sky at sea which is unlike any on land, and the night sky in the South Pacific is positively spellbinding.  Out here the unobstructed vista, clear atmosphere, and lack of light pollution allows us to see things we would never otherwise see.  For example you can see the whole Milky Way down the middle of the sky with the relatively less occupied parts of the universe on either side.   The stars themselves are dazzling, brilliant and so clear as to light the heavens like an outdoor Christmas tree on a frosty winter’s evening.  We always look for the beautiful Southern Cross.  Often we see falling stars and satellites passing over.  At Fatu Hiva Gus and I saw the International Space Station fly by at tremendous speed.  Last night Rebecca and I laid on the forecastle and gazed aloft at the trillions of tiny and not so tiny bodies shining down on us. We saw several meteors entering our atmosphere, two in particular will stay in my mind’s eye; one was huge, like a comet that flashed across the sky with a tail and then disappeared, the other a streak that ended in a tiny red ball.  Of course for the whole of human history up to about 1930 people looked at the night sky in wonderment and awe.   Since the invention of electricity and television, no one looks anymore, and besides, it can hardly be seen given the light pollution.  As Argo plies the water she rolls back the sea and atop the white foam are tiny star like sparkles of phosphorescent plankton spreading out around us.  It is nights like this that I am so glad we made the decision to undertake cruising on Argo.

 

This morning, Saturday, we are at sea about 35 miles out of Tahiti.  The sea is calm and it isn’t much of a day for sailboaters as the wind is only 5 knots.  All our doors are open and a lovely breeze is blowing through the boat.  I have two lines out, but the ocean is very deep here and since I do not see any birds, I doubt that there is anything to catch in these parts.  We will make Papeete in a few hours and I can see the great mountains of Tahiti from here. 

 

We will tie up at Marina Tiana, a focal point this time of year for sailors making the passage across the Pacific.  If the internet has sufficient bandwidth in Papeete, I hope to upload some new photos of The Galapagos, The Marquesas, and The Tuamotus. 

 

Rebecca and I hope you are having a lovely summer and that fair winds are to your backside.

 

Thanks for looking in on us. 

 

Randy and Rebecca

 

 

 

CAPTAIN’S LOG                The Tuamotus 

           June 3 to June 28, 2014 

the Tuamotus

The Tuamotus is an archipelago made up of 77 atolls.  Each atoll is composed of a circle of motus or islets made of coral sand and rock perched on the rim of an ancient volcano and enclosing a lagoon.    The motus are barren except for coconuts and breadfruit trees, and have a maximum elevation of about ten feet above the sea.  The only source of fresh water on these islets is rainwater.  There are no fruits or vegetables on these atolls, nor are there any indigenous animals.  There is almost no known history to these islands, but it is thought that human beings first came here from the Marquesas in 1000 AD.  The motus enclose a lagoon, the largest of which is about 20 miles in diameter.   The atolls are very beautiful and enclose a wealth of sea life that is relatively easy to access and provide some of the best dive sites in the world.  In cruising near the Tuamotus one is struck by the contrasting color of the deep blue indigo ocean, the light sand the motu shore, the green of the coconut palms, the aqua color of the lagoons, and the clouds sailing across the light blue sky.  

Passage to the Tuamotus

We left the beautiful anchorage at Fatu Hiva at 1030 headed for Fakarava 540 miles southeast, one of the more popular and larger atolls in the archipelago. The seas were calm for the first couple of hours, then we passed outside the shelter of Fatu Hiva and the swells built and built until we were in high, combing seas of ten to fifteen feet.  Waves of this size are really large and quite intimidating.  Argo did nicely, but Lyle was green and seasick and spent most of the next two days and nights on the couch in the salon trying to remain as quiet as possible.   The rest of us had varying degrees of mal de mar, but we were in pretty good shape.  After fifteen hours of somewhat miserable conditions, I began to consider alternatives to lessen our discomfort.  After a group discussion, we decided to alter to a less strenuous course and go to the little atoll named Ahe.  Just then the hydraulic alarm sounded indicating an overheating situation.  This is a critical problem for Argo as she needs her stabilizers to maintain her posture, otherwise she would roll uncontrollably in these seas.  It was pitch dark and the swells were huge.  Gus and Rebecca stood by the doors to the pilothouse trying to see the exact direction of the waves so that I could be sure to point her into them and avoid as much as possible rolling violently from side to side.  Tyler, who was now awake, rushed to the engine room to look at the impeller on the hydraulic cooling pump. We had changed it in Panama, so he knew exactly what to do.  In an amazingly short period of time he had it replaced and we resumed our course in comfort and confidence.  After things were repaired, he brought the defective impeller up to the pilothouse and I could see that it seemed to have over heated; strange for something that should be pumping water.  On our new course to Ahe the angle to the swells improved and things got a little better.  After a couple of hours Lyle started to come around and everyone seemed to perk up as the waves were still huge, but their moment lengthened allowing Argo to ride up and down rather than roll sideways off them. 

On the third day we began to feel better and almost enjoy the cruise when the hydraulic alarm sounded again (36 hours later).  This was an unwelcomed surprise.  Once again we had a potentially serious problem on our hands.  Thankfully it was daylight and the waves were somewhat better for dealing with this problem.  I turned Argo into the waves again and Tyler and Gus flew to the engine room.  Tyler checked out the strainer and then the impeller.  The strainer was clear, but all the blades of the impeller had been sheared off. We looked for an obvious reason for this unusual part failure, but nothing seemed apparent.  We replaced the impeller and things returned to normal, for a while.  We talked about the problem and concluded that the sea water strainer had begun to rust.  It looked as though small bits of it could have broken loose and made their way into the impeller shearing off the rubber blades, although this was unlikely. (Later, after consultation with experts, we learned that Globe Impellers can weaken over time.  The impellers we recently purchased were probably defective, leading to their failure. No more Globe Impellers for us!).  By 0630 we were close to Ahe and looking forward to anchoring in a calm harbor. 

Ahe Atoll

Getting into atolls can be difficult and most have only one entry pass or channel.  In the case of Ahe, its entry pass was very narrow (maybe 50 feet), very shallow (13 feet), surrounded by coral shelves, subject to very swift currents at tidal changes (9 knots), and requiring mid-channel turns.  The ocean near Ahe is over 18,000 feet deep and rises almost straight up to the motus or islands that make up the atoll like beads on a necklace.  Once inside the atoll the lagoon is comparatively shallow, crystal clear, and a beautiful turquoise color.  The motus are white sand islands covered in coconut palms.  Some of the motus have houses on them and the lagoon near them is dotted with buoys that are attached to oyster beds that are used to cultivate the famous Tahitian black pearls.  The Ahe lagoon is about 16 miles long by 8 miles wide.  At one end is a little village with a government dock at which we moored.  It was the first time since leaving Shelter Bay Marina in Panama that Argo was in a calm anchorage. 

The village was home to a couple hundred people.  They started showing up at the dock when we arrived: kids in swimsuits or underwear, adults riding three wheeled bikes, men interested in boats, the local gendarme and several transvestites.  The village had two streets and an intersection. The homes were small bungalows on paved streets surrounded by tropical plants and flowers, and each had a rainwater collection system for drinking water.  There was a Catholic Church and a Mormon Temple of sorts and the only restaurant was a hamburger stand that for $13 provided fries, a burger, and a drink (the voracious flies were complimentary!). 

The first day in port we rested and took a swim off our swim platform.  Tyler dove Argo’s bottom to see if anything was clogging the water intake for the hydraulic cooling pump or the water maker.  His report: all was in apple pie order!   Our conclusion is that the problems with the water maker and the cooling pump are the result of cavitation caused by turbulent seas.  This causes air to be sucked into the pumps, lessening their effectiveness.  The proposed solution is to install scoop strainers to the hull at our next haul out, which would force water into the intakes when we are underway and lessen or eliminate the problem.

The second day we took an eight mile excursion across the lagoon to the lovely Pension Chez Riata for lunch.  When we arrived, Riata was standing on the white sand beach, ukulele in hand singing Polynesian songs that she recorded in her youth (CDs anyone?).  The scene was picture postcard perfect.

Lunch was served after a refreshment of fresh lemonade and fried banana chips.  Riata and her husband, Willy, told us about their life on Ahe and their travels.  They come to the United States each year to visit relatives and for shopping and skiing: she shops, he skis.  Lunch began with an appetizer of thinly sliced pearl oysters marinated in garlic, oil, and lime served on an oyster shell.  These shells are rather flat and about eight inches in diameter, not like the typical New England variety.  The entre’ was fresh white fish sautéed in bread crumbs and coconut, accompanied with bread fruit, green beans, and a nice White Bordeaux.  Dessert was a fabulous yellow cake with a vanilla cream center and chocolate glaze frosting.  Rebecca doesn’t eat much, but she did eat that!

The next day, Sunday, we had hoped to move up the lagoon to anchor at Chez Riata, but unfortunately a squall line came through and it rained torrentially all day.  We tried playing cards, but soon migrated to watching movies.   The next day, Monday, the sky cleared and we got underway at 0630 for Rangiroa 75 miles to the south.  We tried fishing, but only succeeded in losing a couple of lures and catching the fattest Skip-Jack we ever saw.   It was a pleasant cruise, if not productive, and we arrived in Rangiroa about 1800.

Rangiroa

Prior to entering a harbor we study the navigation charts carefully, obtain tide information, and talk with others who have been there–sailors if possible.  Prior to coming to Rangiroa we learned that the 125 foot French Customs Military boat (made of steel with a picture on www.tischtravels.com) hit a reef nearby and sank.  This was very unsettling.  Our charts showed the path to Rangiroa as a rhumbline course through the very narrow Tiputa Pass, which required several turns in a narrow channel to avoid reefs.   We approached the pass at 1800 hours.  The sun was setting, it was getting dark rapidly, and in order to make a safe passage we needed light to see the banks of the channel.  Time was of the essence.  From the pilot house we could see a channel between two motus with white water and high surf rolling in from the ocean to the mouth of the channel.  The chart showed the channel to be surrounded by reefs and subject to strong currents.    Because the surf was high I judged that the current was outflowing, which was favorable to our entry because it would aid our steering if it wasn’t too strong (more water flowing past the rudder makes the rudder answer up faster causing the yacht to turn more responsively).  We proceeded nervously, judging that we still had enough light to see the banks of the channel.  Argo’s bow began to lurch from port to starboard as the swells pushed her from one side to the other.  She was pitching up and down about eight feet as the waves rolled under her.  I didn’t fight the movement from the helm, but let her move in a natural manner.  As we moved forward the side to side movement increased, but we seemed to have steerageway, so I maintained about 7 knots speed and hoped that we would stay online without exerting additional force which might result in a lot of unproductive maneuvering.  Slowly we moved forward and finally we began to leave the swell zone, mindful of the waves crashing on the reef to either side.  As the waves subsided our speed fell off rapidly; we had entered the narrow zone where the outgoing current is confined and focused.  As our speed dropped I increased our RPMs so as to maintain steerageway.  The current was so strong that 2100 rpms (which would normally move us at ten knots) was now propelling us at just under four and a half knots.  This was another tense moment.  We had the wing engine and thrusters ready to use if we lost headway, but after a very long two minutes we began to gain speed against the apparent six knot current.  Tyler was on the bow pulpit looking for coral heads.  When our speed reached six knots I began to ease back on the power so that we could make a 45^o turn to port and not over run the turn and slide into the next reef.  Argo didn’t turn easily because of the current and I couldn’t be sure of the accuracy of our charts in such a confined space, but in due course we made the turn, we were past the reef and safely inside the atoll.   By then it was pitch dark.  We could see the mast lights of several boats at anchor, and we began to look for a suitable place to drop our anchor.  Not all sailboats turn on their masthead lights, so I turned on our night vision to try and see them in the dark. 

Special skills are required when anchoring in an atoll or near coral formations.  The sea floor can be spotted with coral heads and rock piles.  If you anchor near any of these obstructions, the anchor chain can become entangled or wrapped around them as the boat turns in the wind.  If a swell forms and rolls under the boat it can raise the forecastle and potentially damage the boat if the chain holds it firm and makes it impossible for the yacht to answer the sea state.  In the case of Rangiroa there is a twenty mile fetch across the atoll, so large waves were possible under certain wind conditions.   The recommended way of dealing with this problem is to lay out extra scope, buoyed by a float so as to isolate the boat from a chain that is caught on a coral head. 

We used our sonar to identify an area without coral heads and wound up anchoring in 75 feet of water.  We laid out 450 ft. of chain and then enjoyed one of Rebecca’s masterpieces of galley fare: a wonderful dinner of scallops, risotto and bok choy with a lovely White Bordeaux followed by rum bananas and ice cream for dessert.   

The Rangiroa Atoll is about 75 miles in circumference and encloses the second largest lagoon in the world. It has the largest village in the Tuamotus and is also one of the world’s top dive sites.  Many divers from around the world come here, particularly Japanese divers, to experience the coral reefs at the two passes, Tiputa and Avatoru.  (The Japanese divers are the ones with large and exotic underwater cameras and multiple electronic gadgets attached to their arms and dive suits.) These reefs are large, in good condition, and home to an amazingly large variety of sea life including tuna, sharks and dolphins.  Inside of Tiputa Pass is a large lagoon reef that we circled on our way into the atoll.  It is situated in quiet water and perfect for beginner divers.  The locals call it “The Aquarium”, and for good reason; it is full of colorful fish of many species including lemon sharks, barracudas, and moray eels.  Gus, Lyle, Rebecca and I took our initial scuba qualification dives here shortly after we arrived. 

The Tuamotus are coral motus or islets and have no native edible plants other than coconut and breadfruit.  Fruits and vegetables are scarce.  Onboard we have stored fruit found in other parts of French Polynesia including a grapefruit like fruit called a pamplemousse.  This fruit is about two or three times the size of a grapefruit, but sweeter.  It’s delicious. There are a few restaurants here that offer wonderful fresh fish and New Zealand lamb and beef.  The one thing I have particularly enjoyed is tuna ceviche salad prepared in coconut milk.  It is heavenly.

The beaches are coral rock and sand, not really suitable for swimming.  They are lined with coconut palms.  The water is crystal clear with the color ranging from turquoise to indigo to cerulean blue.   It is absolutely gorgeous.  Besides tourism, the Tuamotus are home to the black pearl industry. We toured a pearl farm located just west of us that has over two million oysters under cultivation.  During our visit they operated on oysters and showed us how a blank seed (obtained from muscles raised in the Mississippi River) is inserted in the appendix of an oyster and how they graft another piece of an appendix from a sacrificial oyster to start the process of culturing a pearl.   It was very interesting and of course they had a show room with plenty of inventory.

Tyler’s objective since beginning this voyage has been to become a Master Diver, and to that end he has been diving almost every day.  One of his dives was on the outside reef at Tiputa Pass where a number of dolphins are known to come in from the sea every afternoon.  During an afternoon dive, one of them approached Tyler, rolled onto its back and closed its eyes while he stroked its stomach.   The dolphin stayed with him for a couple of minutes until an older dolphin, perhaps its mother, urged it back to the pack and they all swam out to sea together.  While Rebecca and I were diving the reef earlier in the day, we saw several dolphins including one mother with baby, which was thrilling. That experience made us feel as though we were part of the whole panoply of sea life.   While we were hovering in the current at a depth of about 75 feet and enjoying the dolphins, below us at 125 feet or so was a very large school of several hundred fish, perhaps Maori Perch or Bream.  There we saw several beautiful, spectacular, silver darts in the sea; white and black tip sharks cruising outside the school of fish and occasionally darting through them.  When a shark did so the whole school scattered like sparrows on the wind.   As we drifted along and past this area of the reef, I must admit to looking behind and over my shoulder to see if any sharks were following; an unavoidable consequence of being part of the Jaws generation.  

The nearest motu to our anchorage has a very nice hotel located on it, the Kia Ora, which features Polynesian style huts and bungalows with thatched roofs, some built over the turquoise blue lagoon, others in a village configuration.  It is a Polynesian paradise for sure and just the sort of place that is featured in everyone’s dreams of the South Pacific.  Our friends, Gus and Lyle, treated us to three days in one of these splendid over-the-water bungalows at the end of their visit on Argo.  It was just what we needed after a long voyage, and a very generous gift indeed!  We were particularly grateful to be at the Kia Ora as it had been about ten weeks since we had been in a first class restaurant with a bar.  After three days at Kia Ora, we bade a fond farewell to our good friends and returned home to Argo.  When we arrived back aboard Argo she was shinier than new.  Tyler had taken this three day respite at anchor as an opportunity to wax and clean her after months of sea time.  She looked beautiful.  At this point, after five months underway she is the only motor yacht we have seen in the South Pacific. 

We stood out from Rangiroa at 0730 Sunday morning June 22 bound for Tikehau, a small atoll about twenty miles west of Rangiroa.  We made Tiputa Pass at slack tide and enjoyed a glorious passage to Tikehau.  The sky was clear, the weather calm, and the day was perhaps the best of our cruise so far.  A few minutes out of the pass we were joined by a pod of the largest dolphins we have ever seen.  They swam toward Argo and jumped high in the air as if to celebrate finding us and to announce their presence.  Several of them were perhaps eight or nine feet long and three or four hundred pounds.  They were fabulous animals and a joy to see!

 Tikehau

Tikehau is a small atoll like Ahe, but known as a great dive spot.  Its most famous dive site is inside the lagoon and is a Manta Ray “cleaning station” where Mantas come to have resident fish clean them of parasites. 

 

We made Passe Tuheiava at slack tide and the passage through it was straight forward and uneventful.  We turned south in the lagoon, went about six miles to Village Tuherahera, home to a couple of pensions, a luxury hotel similar to Kia Ora, and a dive shop.  We called the dive shop and arranged two dives at the pass for the following morning.

 

At 0830 sharp the next morning (Monday) a dive boat arrived and took Tyler and me first to the reef inside the lagoon to see if any Manta Rays were in for a cleaning; unfortunately they were not.  Then we went outside the pass for two dives, one on each side of the channel.  The water was 83 degrees with a brilliant blue sky overhead, no wind, and a sea as calm as a mill pond.   We donned our scuba tanks and fell back off the aluminum boat into the sea.  Suddenly we were practically weightless and enjoying the illusion of flying over the coral reef.  As we descended to 93 feet we could see large schools of fish including Big Eye Tuna, Maori Perch, Jacks, Snappers, Barracuda, thousands of tropical fish of every imaginable color and configuration, a large White Tip Shark, and a huge emerald green and blue, domed head Napoleon fish that surely weighed in at 100 lbs and just casually floated past looking at us curiously.  It was glorious.  We arrived back at Argo at 1400 and enjoyed a lunch on the back deck.  Rebecca had stayed aboard and accomplished most of the items on her list: doing six loads of laundry, baking a couple dozen cookies, cleaning the shower, and miscellaneous other tasks.  She is a doer!

 

On Tuesday a squall line moved through and brought with it wind and rain, so we stayed onboard.  On Wednesday cabin fever got the best of us and we took the tender to town despite the squalls. The Village Tuherahera covers most of a small motu. It looked like home to about 1,000 people.  The roads are nicely paved, the homes are a sort of bungalow ranch style and placed on about a half-acre of land.  Some have windows, others are just open to the breeze.   Many are surrounded by beautiful tropical flowering plants.  There are two Catholic churches with large buildings for social events.  Everyone seems to have a car, truck, or motor bike which seemed surprising to us given that the motu couldn’t be more than two miles long and a few hundred yards wide.  Anyway, everyone has a vehicle.  Fanny, our dive instructor, told me that since there is no gasoline station on the motu, people ship their gasoline in from Tahiti in drums.  They need a truck to carry the barrels from the dock to their boats.  There are a couple of small restaurants, but they keep irregular hours so no one knows when they are open unless they call the proprietor on the phone (if it is working).   The village has a tiny grocery, but it has no fresh vegetables or fruit.  I don’t know what people eat here, but I do know that seafood gets a little boring after a couple of weeks.  There are no shops or stores for any other products; I suppose people go to Papeete by plane if they need something, which is 170 mile due south of here.  Maybe they order by phone or on the very slow internet and have it shipped via the weekly supply ship that comes here. Roosters strut about and crow all the time, and large eared dogs are everywhere.  Vacationers from Europe are the most frequent visitors.  There are no bars or other forms of entertainment, but there are a couple of pensions that cater to the tourists.  So it isn’t much of a place for a single person; honeymooners on the other hand, flock here.  The motu has three things going for it: beautiful pink coral beaches, magnificent sunsets, and lovely dive sights.  If you are looking for a place to vacation that’s away from it all, and I mean all, Tikehau is it!

 

On Thursday another squall line was passing through.  In the Tikehau Atoll, waves have a fetch of about ten miles, so they can build to a muscular size in 30 + knot winds.  Winds reached 30 MPH on Thursday and the waves at this end of the atoll reached about four feet.  Argo pitched and pulled, but her anchor held firm.  Our dingy rode the surf behind Argo and rose above our transom on the waves, which is saying something.

 

Friday was our lucky day.  The sun rose and presented us with a beautiful day; gone was the wind and rain.   Fanny, the charming and pretty French dive instructor, came by around 0900 with a dive boat full of tourists.  She picked us up from Argo and took us to two wonderful dive spots.  The first one was a coral head in the lagoon that Manta Rays frequent to have parasites removed by Remoras and other fish.  Rebecca and I fell off the boat into an amazing primordial scene:  huge Manta Rays with wings eight or ten feet across were floating above us over the reef.  Their top side is black and their underside is white.  They have wide set eyes placed on the end of protruding limbs on either side of its mouth, and below the limbs and eyes are articulating flaps that they use to cover their mouth or guide food.  In this case they guided juvenile fish of a specie common on the reef into their huge, gaping mouth, and the little fish went about their business of cleaning their mouth, eyes, and gills.  The little fish formed a ball of dense black living organisms within the Manta Ray.   The Manta moved slowly through the water so as not to dislodge the little critters.   Under the great fish were Remoras, members of the shark family that have a sucker apparatus on the top of their heads. They were cleaning the Manta’s underside.  Rebecca and I gazed transfixed at the scene we were privileged to witness and wondered: For how many millions of years has this been going on? 

 

Our second dive was on Buoy Reef, just the outside of the pass.  The water here is crystal clear and full of sea life, certainly among the best dive spots in the world.  This was Rebecca’s first dive here.  On today’s dive we saw a White Tip Shark, which was intimidating and attention getting as it swam close enough to give us a good look before abruptly turning and heading away (thank God).  We also saw a Manta Ray on this reef, which was quit lovely.   Two dangerous animals also got our attention. First was a Rock Fish, which was hiding in a hole on the reef.  They are very difficult to see as they hide deep in a crevasse and are so well camouflaged that you can’t tell them from a rock.   They sport deadly spines to keep unwelcomed visitors at bay, and they have a tongue that looks like a little fish to attract dinner guests to their table.  The other animal we saw was a Morey Eel; always a little disturbing (I suppose because it is hard to relate to them and they have teeth)!

 

After the dive we returned to Argo and prepared to stand out for Papeete, Tahiti, 167 miles to the south.  It was a beautiful day for a cruise; bright sunshine, a cloudless sky, a following 8 knot wind and 3 foot sea.  We don’t get enough days like this!  We started to raise the anchor, but the chain had apparently gotten caught on a coral head. We worked on it for ten or fifteen minutes and I thought Tyler might have to make a dive on the anchor, but by maneuvering the boat around and pulling as hard as seemed prudent, it eventually came loose and we were underway.   On the way out we deployed our fishing lines in the hopes of catching something in the pass.  Shortly after we cleared the pass and turned on our course, King Neptune offered up a beautiful Mahi-Mahi. 

 

The passage to Papeete is an overnight run.  Rebecca and I take the evening watch from 1800 to 0000.  Tyler takes the night watch from 0000 to 0700.  I take the 0700 to 1200, Tyler and I take turns as it suits us on the afternoon watch.  We all enjoy the night sky at sea which is unlike any on land, and the night sky in the South Pacific is positively spellbinding.  Out here the unobstructed vista, clear atmosphere, and lack of light pollution allows us to see things we would never otherwise see.  For example you can see the whole Milky Way down the middle of the sky with the relatively less occupied parts of the universe on either side.   The stars themselves are dazzling, brilliant and so clear as to light the heavens like an outdoor Christmas tree on a frosty winter’s evening.  We always look for the beautiful Southern Cross.  Often we see falling stars and satellites passing over.  At Fatu Hiva Gus and I saw the International Space Station fly by at tremendous speed.  Last night Rebecca and I laid on the forecastle and gazed aloft at the trillions of tiny and not so tiny bodies shining down on us. We saw several meteors entering our atmosphere, two in particular will stay in my mind’s eye; one was huge, like a comet that flashed across the sky with a tail and then disappeared, the other a streak that ended in a tiny red ball.  Of course for the whole of human history up to about 1930 people looked at the night sky in wonderment and awe.   Since the invention of electricity and television, no one looks anymore, and besides, it can hardly be seen given the light pollution.  As Argo plies the water she rolls back the sea and atop the white foam are tiny star like sparkles of phosphorescent plankton spreading out around us.  It is nights like this that I am so glad we made the decision to undertake cruising on Argo.

 

This morning, Saturday, we are at sea about 35 miles out of Tahiti.  The sea is calm and it isn’t much of a day for sailboaters as the wind is only 5 knots.  All our doors are open and a lovely breeze is blowing through the boat.  I have two lines out, but the ocean is very deep here and since I do not see any birds, I doubt that there is anything to catch in these parts.  We will make Papeete in a few hours and I can see the great mountains of Tahiti from here. 

 

We will tie up at Marina Tiana, a focal point this time of year for sailors making the passage across the Pacific.  If the internet has sufficient bandwidth in Papeete, I hope to upload some new photos of The Galapagos, The Marquesas, and The Tuamotus. 

 

Rebecca and I hope you are having a lovely summer and that fair winds are to your backside.

 

Thanks for looking in on us.