Author: Pete
Location: Raroia, Tuamotus
Date: May 10, 2015
Made landfall in Raroia in the morning! After a dry, easy passage we pulled within sight of the scattered, low, coral islets with our customary landfall squalls. Our timing was perfect though; we arrived exactly when we planned to, a feat when you’re being propelled only by the wind over the span of 400 miles of open sea. Is the wind even blowing outside right now? We were eager to be through the pass, but we took a few tacks outside the mouth of the atoll to let the strong wind and blinding rain pass. We took the opportunity to clean the boat, get the salt off the decks and sails, take a shower, and wash whatever clothes we happened to be wearing. Still multitasking even off duty; we can’t seem to escape being productive. The squalls blew over and we were back to mild winds. A double rainbow beamed bright to the south, mirroring our fabulous welcomes to Galapagos and the Marquesas. The South Pacific is incredible.
I checked all the engine fluids (very important, see landfall in Colombia) and fired up the girls. We left the mainsail flying but furled the jib for the pass. Learned this practice from our buddies on Options III from the Bahamas. If for some reason power is lost in the pass, engines die from a fuel or air blockage, a prop gets wrapped with floating line, a transmission fails, whatever, you already have at least one sail up, the more arduous of the two to unfurl, to get out of the tight, rocky pass. So we motor sailed almost straight upwind into the low spot between the low islands.
Our charts were accurate except the magnetic compass headings, which were 30 years old and off by about 30 degrees. Good thing the pass is indicated with range markers, two towers that line up in front of you when your boat is on the right line in. We also experience a ‘rage’, which is a patch of aggravated, choppy water where the tide going in or out and the wind or waves are going opposite. It’s like petting a cat the wrong way, the fur all sticks up in tufts and you they give you that scowly, ears back annoyed look. Or is that just how cats normally look?
We were almost at slack tide, so the rage wasn’t significant, but you still could feel it pulling on the boat and tugging at the rudders. Right next to the roiling water were patches of placid, flat water, depending on bottom topography.After we punched through the rage, which only existed outside the pass, the going was pretty easy. The dark blue water immediately changed to aquamarine, and our deck spotters pointed out coral heads on our flanks.
The pass was deep and wide though, an easy run. We turned downwind to follow our approach plan and furled the mainsail so it wouldn’t gybe on us. We weaved south between green and red beacons, making mental note that these were European buoys, and therefore backwards. Red on the left when returning from sea. LEFT! A mile south the little town waited, but we had the whole atoll to ourselves. Pulled into a spot recommended by other boats who had been here in sand at about 15 meters with scattered coral heads. We dove to check the anchor then made popcorn and grapefruit for a celebratory snack before taking to the water.
We all finned to the nearest coral head and were checking out the fish. Through her snorkel Miranda muffles, “EEk!” as if she’s seen a mouse and pushes me in front of her as a 4 foot long shark slithers by. In all fairness, I’m the one armed with the speargun. Then another goes by, then another. Then a couple more. Oop, and there’s one more. We group up and watch these (little) apex predators watch us. The four of us ended up comically standing on the coral (bad) with our spears and dive knives pointed out at the blue, bravely staring into the deep with our chattering knees. In total at any one time there were six sharks, black tip reef, white tip reef, and gray reef sharks, cruising by us. Most were small, likely all were harmless, but we hadn’t slept much the previous night, and courageously decided to get the hell out of the water. We finned back over deep water in a pack, bristling with pointy steel. Real tough guys. If a big fish, a ray, or a dolphin came swimming around for a curious look at us, we’d be delighted. The sharks I’m sure were just checking us out. Still, six in one frame is enough for me, at least before noon.
Spent the rest of the day on the island. Quite a difference from the terrain of Marquesas. Flat, coral, and more palm trees than you can shake a harpoon at. Welcome to Tuamotus.