Maritime rescue

La Orana! 

It’s windy here in Raiatea and has been for the past week. Our wind instrument is currently reading 30kn and above but has hardly dropped below 25 all week. Too strong for pottering about, too wild for seeking out calm anchorages and too much swell for many dinghy rides into town. Ironically it is forecast to settle down next week while we are in the boatyard but meanwhile, we are confined to barracks.

Windy days in Raiatea

Mooring buoy doing its work in the wind

Well almost. On Wednesday I was fixing a sail bag. The sewing part had been done but the bag still had to be secured into its locker. As I was wrestling with this task a boat came in to pick up a buoy. That isn’t remotely unusual but hearing another yachtsman hailing a boat midway during a manoeuvre in heavy weather is. I glanced across at the noise and there was the skipper of a neighbouring boat standing at the bow gesticulating wildly and shouting to the helmsman of the manoeuvring boat. I couldn’t make out any words what with all the wind (and the French!) but decided he had recognised a friend and was suggesting they picked up a mooring buoy closer to his. I continued what I was doing mildly amused that the new boat seemed to be completely ignoring all his efforts to be noticed. The next time I popped my head out of the locker he was still at it this time waving to a passenger ferry crossing from Tahaa. No response again. I kept looking and then he suddenly turned his attention towards me. What was wrong with the chap? I went inside to put on the VHF and grab the binoculars – nothing on the radio but yes, he was definitely making the universal distress signal right at me. Arms wide out and then crossed overhead repeatedly. There was no mistaking it. (I’m telling you that yacht master course was money well spent!). The helmsmen of the newly arrived boat had retreated below decks, skipper and Richard (on the clock) had their heads in the port engine bay figuring out autohelm maintenance, the ferry had long since disappeared over the horizon…there was nothing for it. This maritime rescue was on me. Somewhat reluctantly I clambered into the heaving dinghy hoping against hope that I wouldn’t be able to start the outboard and could retire with my honour intact but no , as luck would have it, it started on a first pull and with my lines released I was off. 

Rescue mission

Edge of the reef where the dinghy ended up

 

Never had a rescuing boat travelled so slowly over the sea to meet its target. Mrs Geriatric was how skipper described it later but at the time I was just focussed on navigating the breaking waves and maintaining the right speed to get my painter thrown against the howling wind into his outstretched hands. Mission was accomplished (on the second attempt) and once secured we established in very broken French and English that his dinghy had slipped her line. Pointing into the distance I could make out the shape of a dinghy marooned on the reef west of the moorings. We headed over with virtually no throttle and the wind blowing us ever faster towards the coral. I felt woefully inexperienced for this mission, but I was in charge and I knew at some point (soon) it was going to get too shallow for the depth of the outboard. Anxious times. Perhaps my nervousness about our new engine caused me to be a little premature but with the coral now underneath us I engaged neutral and firmly announced “ Maintenant Il faut quitter le bateau”. He looked a bit surprised – this was not the rescue experience he had imagined – but hats off to him because without a murmur he scrambled over the edge of the dinghy into … chest deep water!! I unceremoniously left him wading over to his stranded dinghy while I tried to raise our outboard up at the back to avoid the now plentiful coral heads. It came up much more easily than I had hoped so feeling pretty smug I reached for the oars and started to paddle into some deeper water. This maritime rescue lark was easier than anticipated. I should really do it more often. With deep water under the keel, I reached for the spring to lower the engine back down. No movement. I tried again. It was stuck in the raised position and wouldn’t budge. Now it was me being blown by the wind further and further away from Papillon. Injured pride certainly but no dramas because I was swiftly rescued by none other than a very wet Frenchman in his newly recovered dinghy and then towed back to Papillon. He could have had the last laugh but instead was incredibly gallant with offers of drinks onboard and thanking me profusely for all my efforts. In classic Anna style I started apologising for what had happened, but he stopped me in my tracks “Au moins vous etes venue Madam, au moins vous etes venue”. At least you came Madam at least you came. The French have such style!! 

All pegs employed to dry the sheets

Venus has been bright this week

Less stylish have been my efforts at swimming this week. The weather has not helped but the main deterrent has actually been self-inflicted. To celebrate the new freezers, we finally splashed out on a very large box of chicken legs from Champignon. These boxes are always on “Bon Plan” and a firm favourite with the weekend party boats but we’ve never had the freezer space to accommodate one …until now. Feeling like real long-term cruisers the 20 legs were divided up into bags and packed away in the freezer for later. 4 were kept back to roast. They were sizeable, meat enough for at least 6 meals but what to do with the bones? It was decided to chuck them overboard. Its preferable to bagging them up and leaving them in the bin for the rats to scavenge and seems to be in keeping with the way over here. It’s taken me a while to get used to and I still feel mildly guilty every time any item of food is discarded this way, but I do see the logic. Anyway, to get back to the point the chicken bones were thrown overboard along with the grease and within seconds 8 huge black tipped sharks appeared literally surfacing out of the water in their eagerness to get to those bones. That was on Tuesday, and they haven’t left the side of the boat since. It’s been a little disconcerting and has definitely put me off my daily swim! On the upside and I don’t know if this is related, we had our first turtle sighting out on the lagoon this week. I was on the phone at the time so no photos I’m afraid, but we think it was a green sea turtle. I’ve copied a picture to show you! The other first this week was a tray of blackened vanilla pods drying in the sun on a roadside stall. We smelt them before we saw them, so delicious. Vanilla is a big industry here. We haven’t visited a farm yet but I’m guessing we are entering vanilla season which is good news indeed! Tonight, is Friday so qualifies as a pudding night. My choice is vanilla yogurt and fresh pineapple. Happy days!

Coconut harvest

Vanilla pods drying

Calmer evening

Green sea turtle