The Tuamotus were known as the dangerous archipelago, and for good reason. They stretch for hundreds of miles across the path of any ship bound for Tahiti and consist of a series of low-lying coral atolls. They are hard to see during the day and harder at night because the highest part of them is the palm trees, and the fringing reefs stretch for miles. A coral Atoll is a round or rectangular reef surrounding a lagoon with low, sandy islands dotted around the edge. In the days before GPS many boats came to grief there, and it still happens despite the new technology, perhaps because more boats visit there.
As Alison and I sailed down from the Marquesas we were apprehensive about our navigation. We took positions every hour and examined the charts closely. The passage had nice weather, with light easterly winds and a clean hull giving us good daily averages. We arrived on the evening of the fourth night and heaved too for the night. It was the first time we had done this in the Pacific, so we kept a good watch. As the sun came up we could see the low islands of Taou atoll off the bow. We set the sails and radioed Tyrene. It took half the day to sail around the reef. Finally we reached the entrance to the lagoon, and were guided in by one of the boats. We picked up a mooring that the family who lived there had laid for us. This they did by wrapping a chain around a huge coral bommie. Primitive, but secure.
The island was inhabited by a family who welcomed sailors with open arms. Every night or two during the season they would put on a dinner for which they charged a nominal, voluntary amount. We went spear fishing with them and learnt to keep the catch away from the small reef sharks that were everywhere. Papa (the patriarch) had a dog that would catch the small sharks off the beach and drag them up onto the sand, then bark at them. Tough dog.
Our next stop was Apataki, another atoll about twenty miles to the north. It was known as a surf spot and we were keen to go for a surf. We sailed over with Pau Hana. As we approached the south end of the atoll we could hear the thunder of the waves on the barrier reef before we could see it, and were again reminded why so many boats came to grief in these islands. We followed the reef around and sailed into the reef pass. The current swirled around in the pass and ran at three or four knots in places. We kept to the inside edge of the current and successfully tied up to the town dock.
The first thing we did, of course, was to go and buy some beer. Then it was time to go for a surf. Nice three foot waves were breaking on the south side of the reef pass near the town. Graham called by in his dinghy and I jumped in. The waves were clean but the reef was incredibly shallow and sharp. We found out later that the break was called ‘Lacerations’. We did get some decent waves for an hour or so until the Surfrider charter yacht pulled up.
We spent a couple of days at the town dock, doing some shopping, fixing surfboards and going surfing in the dropping swell. Being on the dock meant that kids were always around asking questions and just hanging out. They thought Graham’s monkey impression was pretty funny. We bought some black pearls from one of the guys who worked at the local farm, and spent some time walking around the town.
One night I invited everyone over for a drink. One of the guys off the charter boat came over with a bottle of Tequila. It turned out they were all doctors on an annual guy’s holiday. When he left looking a little unsteady we noticed there was tequila left. We couldn’t drink it without him. That would be wrong. So we went aboard and grabbed him, and propped him in the corner until it was gone. The next morning my sandals were gone. I bought some more at the store for about ten dollars, only to have them pinched too. I gave up.
In the morning we decided to go for a dive. Alison and I drift-dived the channel on the hookah. The water was incredibly clean. I topped the Hookah back up and then gave the Pau Hana guys a go. It reminded me of what a hookah is really good for: getting a whole bunch of people together and taking it in turns to do a dive without having to worry about filling and carrying tanks. In the afternoon we visited a cultured pearl farm. By this time Tyrene had shown up too. We helped them fill their water tanks and had sunset drinks in the cockpit. Later on the party was on Pau Hana, and there is some very embarrassing video of us all dancing to Van Halen out there somewhere.
We left the town a day later and sailed through the channel to explore the lagoon. There was another family that lived on the east side of the atoll and had a pretty good anchorage. We sailed in company with Tyrene and anchored behind the island in the afternoon.
Over the next two days we visited the pearl farm and went spear fishing with them. That night the family cooked the fish and put on a big barbecue for all the yachties. The head of the family was the local minister and there were lots of sincere prayers before dinner. They were lovely people and we were sad to leave, but by this time we craved a bit of peace and quiet, so Tyrene and we moved to the north end of the atoll. The constant trade winds blew off the coconut tree lined island under a clear blue sky. We anchored in a clear spot between patches of reef.
The fishing here was incredible. I would dive down and look under a ledge. After my eyes adjusted there was always a grouper looking out at me, and five seconds later dinner was seen to. There was no ciguatera poison in the atoll so all the fish could be eaten there. We explored all the nearby islands and flew around in my fast dinghy explore the reef. Except for a million rats and coconut crabs we were alone. A couple of other boats showed up and parked about a mile away. We got together for a barbeque on the beach. It was easy to catch enough fish. We made a big fire of dried coconut shells and some dead branches. The shells all had a round hole in them from where the rats had eaten the insides. There were suspicious rustling sounds coming from the bushes and we scared away a couple of big ones from our picnic site.
The other boats left again and we had the place to ourselves. Each night we would eat on Bluey or Tyrene. Typically we would mix up a batch of tropical delight and rum, and make popcorn in the pressure cooker until it was time for dinner. Watching the sun set behind an idyllic tropical island each day we would play guitar or talk about the next day’s plan, followed by the inevitable boat talk. I never got sick of it.
Finally one night the talk turned to Tahiti. Each of us needed to buy parts for the boat. We started listening for the weather each night to get a feel for what we could expect on the passage to Papeete. The ‘prevailing wisdom’ was that most people failed to leave enough time to explore the Society Islands group. We agreed to leave the next day.