Night Flit to Moorea

La Orana!

I write this quite unexpectedly from Moorea.  We had always planned to return to this beautiful island of high peaks, deep inlets and reefs but the 120nm passage against prevailing south easterlies is slow (and noisy) in Papillon and one that we had reserved for a spell of northerlies should they ever return.  

Back in Moorea

Sunset en route

Sitting over lunch at the delicious “Snack Tonoi” with Paul and Flore on Monday it was clear the northerlies had returned.  Cooling winds blowing in from the lagoon are not generally the experience of diners here.  We returned to Papillon and rechecked the weather…again.  It looked hopeful: quiet northerlies with the possibility of 10-12 knots of wind overnight Thursday.  We had originally planned to use them to return to Maupiti for a few weeks but perhaps we should rethink?  We had a couple of unplanned appointments we needed to make in Tahiti and this period of northerlies might not come around again for a while.  With freezers full to bursting, diesel and water tanks topped up and the satellite phone charged and ready to go it would not be difficult to change the plan.  Rather than sailing west for 55nm we would simply go east for 120 – such is the perfection of a northly wind in this part of the world and the general flexibility of cruising agendas! 

Dusk over the solar panels

Mainsail set

We drifted off our mooring on Thursday morning at 10.45am.  It was a perfect day for sailing.  Light northly winds and high cloud.    Our passage plan began with a simple motor out of the lagoon through Passe Teavapiti just south of Uturoa.  We would raise the mainsail once we were onto the ocean and then turn east skirting past Huahine to the north and arriving in Moorea just short of Tahiti around 8am on Friday morning.  Like all good passage plans it sounded simple on paper and if truth be told it was a very simple route but like all passage plans it cannot make allowances for the endurance required.  We have certainly got better at pacing ourselves and taking the breaks when they are afforded but there is no doubt one never truly relaxes while one is out on passage.  Ears prick up to any unexplained creaks and groans,  ropes are inspected and reinspected for signs of wear and tear, eyes are glued to the horizon for those dreaded collision hazards, the instrument panel is checked and rechecked for navigational tweaks and sails are continually tuned to reflect changing wind direction and speed.  It comes as no surprise that each period of duty is referred to as a “watch”.  Never was there such an appropriate word!  I find myself conserving energy as soon as a passage begins and making the boat as ship shape as possible for when darkness envelopes. Talk is reduced to exchanges about the boat, food is prepared in advance and kept very simple, we drink lots of tea and when we are not on watch we try to rest.  Life becomes very simple infact.  

Full moon at sea

Under sail at night

The upside is the complete freedom one feels out at sea.  The responsibility is high but the rewards immense.  On our passage to Moorea we were blessed with a full moon and creaming through the waves on a broad reach bathed in silvery light with the southern cross shining down from above comes pretty close to perfection for me. Arriving at one’s destination at dawn comes a close second.  Moorea has one of the most spectacular skylines of any of the Society Islands.  The mountains are steep and wooded, extinct volcanos reaching upwards of 1200m from the sea below.  Between the peaks craggy pinnacles of jagged rock soar up, a climber’s paradise except that the rock is too soft moulding into weird and wonderful shapes in the wind and rain.  On Friday as the sun rose the dramatic skyline was brought into sharp definition against orange and crimson shafts of light.  For a short while it seemed as though a furnace was burning below and then just as quickly as it had all appeared it was over, replaced by the gentle purples and greys of a new day.  Arriving in  Moorea on such a perfect morning cannot be downplayed.  It was pretty awesome! 

Sunrise over Moorea

Sun rising at the helm

Our destination was the reef on Cooks Bay in the north of the island.  Two other yachts were there already but there was plenty of space.  Our new anchor was about to be put to the test.  Would the extra 5kg prove to be a bonus or a hindrance? Skipper had picked it up from the Hawaikinui shipping office in Uturoa when we were there with Monica and Graeme.  With extra hands on board, we had managed to replace the old anchor and secure the new but she had remained untested on our mooring.  Now was the moment of truth.  The windlass did its magic and she dropped down onto the sandy reef shelf below.  A quick motor to stern had her holding her position beautifully and an underwater inspection with the snorkelling mask revealed she was beautifully dug into the sand.  It had gone like clockwork.  Anchor pro was set and we could relax…well almost.  Perhaps because of the current at this anchorage and the extremely light winds we were experiencing it seemed to one of our neighbours at least that we were dragging.  He appeared in his dinghy to inform us of his suspicions. We were certainly lying a little differently to him, but we were most definitely not dragging.  The anchor was inspected again, and all fears allayed.  What followed was a lovely chat with our neighbourly skipper.  He was cruising from Alaska with his young family.  Various houses had been bought, done up and resold to make the dream happen but now it was and judging by the laughter coming from his boat all was going well.  I am continually reminded of how unconventionally many people choose to live their lives here.  It is very refreshing. 

Out on the Cooks Bay reef

Beautiful Cooks Bay

Today we have woken to another glorious morning in Moorea after 9 hours of unbroken sleep - yet another reward of an overnight passage.  Sitting in the cockpit drinking my coffee and admiring the view I noticed a dinghy in trouble.  She was from a charter boat that had come in (at speed) last night.  Two crew members had sped off to town earlier on but now seemed to be rowing back.  Like many dinghies here the rowlocks were not even partially functional and slow progress was being made.  Our dinghy was lowered, and skipper went to the rescue towing them back to their boat.  They had no English or French so this was a wordless rescue on both sides but suffice to say they left very soon afterwards. Perhaps they were embarrassed or perhaps they needed to be somewhere else.  It will remain a mystery but  provides yet more proof that there is always something (or someone!) to speculate about at sea!

Wordless rescue

Sharks back in Raiata stopping us from swimming!