Hunkering down in Huahine

 

La Orana!

The phrase “it never rains but it pours” was never so literally translated as in French Polynesia this past week.  We have been experiencing biblical levels of the stuff on the island of Huahine, approximately 30-40nm from Raiatea.  It has been driving against the hatches and pounding down on the coach roof for days now and shows no sign of abating.  It has easily been the worst week of weather since we arrived – not a problem per se but certainly not to be recommended if solar is your primary source of power.    

wet fishing floats in Huahine  and excuse the sound track in the video - no men in sight except Skipper - but it seemed to go!

Skipper has downloaded every App known  man to monitor our battery health and this week’s readings have left him twitchy shall we say.  More than once we have resorted to using the engines to rectify the situation but its not ideal.  Most critical is obviously the water-maker but freezers, fridges, phones and computers are also pretty high up our priority list.  Fortunately, rainwater can be collected and Huahine seems to have public water supplies in the most unlikely of places, so it’s not been a problem, but it’s certainly made us pause for thought.  The hydro-generator that came with Papillon has been inspected and dare I say it wind generators have also been mentioned…I can see another saga in the making!!!

any thoughts on this one?

and this one?

But enough of that because despite all the rain Huahine for the most part has been a delight.  It started inauspiciously with an arrival at dusk which is never ideal for dropping the hook.  Our first attempt seemed to be in a river such was the current pulling us backwards.  It was so fast that the lovely patch of sand we had earmarked quickly disappeared only to be replaced by a coral field.  It was sketchy to say the least and certainly far too exciting for the wrinklies.  Fortunately, we were able to retrieve the anchor without too much damage to us or the underlying coral and our second attempt was better but the “lesson learnt” that day was “don’t delay a passage however exciting the news might be from the US Tennis Open (or indeed any other sporting event!) ”.  This “lesson learnt” may become very relevant with the rugby world cup looming!! 

Peering through the gloom as we arrive

Second anchorage the next morning

The following day we headed back through Passe Avamoa and onto the pacific again.  Our destination was the east side of the island which cannot be reached through the lagoon.  In the past small boats could transit the shallow channel or “Passage Honoava”  between Huahine Nui and Huahine Iti but since the completion of the road bridge this is no longer an option for masted boats like ours …so we were going round the top.  It was a perfect sail made even more exciting by more humpback whale sightings and some glorious sunshine.  

Huahine airport on the north coast

The beauty of the east coast when we got there took our breath away.  I know I say this every time but sometimes I have to pinch myself that I am really here such is the majesty of this place.  Transiting through Passe Farerea we skirted round the emerald and golden colours of Motu Topati  into our virtually deserted anchorage.  Apart from a single monohull we were completely alone.  The moorings lay in a line between the long sandy Motu Murimahora and the shore and everywhere was quiet.  Boats don’t seem to venture round to this side of the island and although there were hints of development on the Motu it seemed to be mainly occupied by locals enjoying picnics with family and friends in a rare afternoon of sunshine.  It’s easy to understand why Huahine is called the “Authentic Island”.  

sailing through Passe Farerea

emerald and golden

We went ashore the next morning to climb Mont Puhueri. From the little harbour in Tefarerii it was approximately half a mile along the road to the beginning of the hike.  Being a Saturday there were dozens of children out and about – little ones making sand bombs on the beach and older versions zooming up and down on their bikes.  Without exception all hailed us as we passed “ La Orana,” “La Orana”.   Grownups kept a vague eye on proceedings but were mainly occupied in their immaculate gardens or tidying up public spaces including the harbour and the churchyard - strimmers working overtime.  The vegetation was luxuriant and probably took some tending, but Tefarerii was one extremely tidy village! Mont Puhueri felt like an episode of LOST if you ever watched it: a continuous ascent through dense rainforest occasionally opening out onto views of verdant mountains all shapes and sizes stretching away into the horizon their steep sides plunging into the waters below.   The last few metres of the climb were similarly steep and if truth be told a bit sketchy with all the rain, but even in the mist the views back to the west side across the Honoava Passage were spectacular.  All the mud had been worth it! 

beautiful gardens in Huahine

views opening up on Mont Puhueri

Our second anchorage on Huahine was back on the west coast at the south end of the lagoon in Baie d’Avea – another stunning anchorage, another beautiful village.  It was here we met Anna and Eric, a Norwegian couple who had built their Wharram Catamaran back in Norway in 2017, then disassembled it, put it into a container and transported it halfway round the world to Huahine…just before Covid struck.  You honestly couldn’t write the script.  We went over because our first boat was a Wharram.  When they heard this, we were welcomed aboard with open arms.  Being on their much bigger version brought memories of “Sea Eagle” flooding back: the absence of any shelter whatsoever, coffin like cabins, minimal power, bucket and chuck-it toileting, the list goes on and on.  “Bare Bare” was a very different proposition to “Sea Eagle” but still had her challenges.  Eric had built a shelter between the two hulls but in the rain, we were experiencing it wasn’t particularly effective and everything was soaked;  there was a single solar panel so only enough power for phone charging and lights;  water was rainwater collection only,   and toileting was restricted to one chemical loo and no shower.  It made our battery issues seem a little insignificant.  

Bare Bare in the rain

Seagull unimpressed with the weather

But she was a beautiful boat, all orange and blue with palm fronds making up the sides of the shelter.  Wharram catamaran designs are based on traditional Polynesian outrigger canoes so she looked right at home in Baie d’Avea but I didn’t envy them.  We had loved our bareback sailing in “Sea Eagle” in our 20s but Anna and Eric were in their 60s.  Hats off to them!! I suspect they are the talk of the village!

Returning to Papillon still in the rain with a hot meal, hot showers and a Netflix film beckoning we didn’t look back.  Ours may not be the fastest sailing vessel in the fleet, but home comforts should never be underrated!

verdant Huahine in the rain

yet more unidentified flowers in the rain!