A little video on an incredible experience we had in Opunohu Bay in Moorea, French Polynesia.
Author: Pete
Location: Moorea, Society Islands
Date: June 25, 2015
We decided to make the most of our down-time waiting for the autohelm part to come in by sailing to Moorea, three hours from Papeete. We had spent a few days ordering our autohelm part, salvaging data off a dying hard drive, and working on a dinghy cover. The sun does wicked things to the material over the years, so often canvas covers are put on to extend the lifespan of the noble work horse of Joe Schmoe Cruiser. Gringos call the covers ‘chaps’, but I like the Spanish equivalent, ‘pijamas.’ I love the idea that the dinghies tied up at the dock in their pajamas are really attending some sort of nautical sleepover with terrycloth robes, slippers, and night caps.
It was a lot of work; we made a pattern out of clear plastic in Galapagos and worked on the real thing on the mooring at Marina Taina. It’s tough to work on a project like that on a rolling boat with limited space to maneuver meters of fabric. At least that’s going to be my excuse if anyone calls me out on a few spots of rough tailoring. Most of the time we worked with the dinghy suspended from the davits and occasionally I had to get in it to work. I only once fell out of the tippy dinghy into the harbor. Miranda thought that was great.
Several of the days were pretty windy and rough when we were on a mooring ball in Taina. We had gusts to thirty knots and once breaking waves in the mooring field. One afternoon as we were working on the dinghy cover, a big catamaran broke free from its mooring and went zipping sideways downwind through a dozen moored boats. No one saw it until it was right next to us. I put the dinghy in the water and went tearing after it, without thinking about what I was going to do in my poorly idling, nine horsepower dinghy once I caught the 30 ton catamaran in 20 knots of wind. Miranda was smarter than me, as usual, and called the marina. They dispatched a launch and with the assistance of another dinghy we wrestled the boat to another mooring ball and tied it up. Miraculously, the vagabond boat didn’t ding a single other vessel out of the dozen it zipped by in the mooring field.
Then it was happily time to piss off to Moorea for a few days while we awaited the autohelm part. We motorsailed the fifteen miles across because the wind was on our bow. Of course it was the first day it had blown from that direction in a week. It was light and the going was easy. We passed Cook’s Bay, named after the popular Captain Cook who explored the area, and turned in at Opunohu Bay a few miles west. The two bays cut deep into the island of Moorea, making it look like a heart with two divots in it.
Had to hand steer the three hours over, which seems pretty easy, but is a chore when you’re used to someone else driving for thousands of miles. Motored easily through the pass with the backwards French buoy marking. The pointed teeth of Moorea’s peaks made for fantastic scenery.
Oop. That’s fanny-tastic scenery! We anchored just inside the protection of the coral reef in ten feet of water.
We put the dinghy down with gusto and took off to go snorkel. It had been three weeks since we’d been in the water. Well, except for the time I fell off the boat working on the dinghy cover. Three weeks?! We LIVE on a boat for crying out loud. How does that happen?! It was good to be back down undah. A couple chill sea turtles paddled by near the drop off and we saw some of our old friends from other boats out there too.
Came back to the boat in a nice flat anchorage and slept like babies.
The next morning we met up with friends who knew the low down of the island. Paul and Andy from Talulah Ruby showed us the secret snorkeling spots. The first spot hid seven sunken carved tikis. Legend has it that the first missionaries made the craftsman throw them in the lagoon when they came. Snorkelers keep them free of marine growth so they are in great shape. A little spooky to see under water!
Our next delight of the day was Stingray City, a sandbar in the lagoon where the stingrays (and reef sharks) congregate in the shallows. We anchored our dinghy in chest-deep water and the rays came out to play. They swam in and around us, looking for handouts. Apparently some dive operators feed them, so they were very cordial with us. They nose around you and are happy to be petted. Their skin is velvety, an unparalleled combination of smooth, slippery, and soft without feeling slimy. It’s a cool enough sensation and interaction to dissolve your speech into unintelligible, involuntary chortling. From all across the sandbar the sound of our group of friends giggling like school girls though their snorkels rang out. It’s a precious thing to hear a posh, collected fifty-year-old British man tee-heeing giddily at the thrill of a natural petting zoo.
We ended up going back the next day armed with tuna. The rays were really excited to see us then! Reminds me of a great Mitch Hedberg quote: “I find that a duck’s opinion of me is heavily influence by whether or not I have any bread.” That guy was a genius. We brought our gringo friends Rick and Lara from SeaKey, and Dutch friends Pete and Liz from Suluk.
The 28th we sailed back to Papeete with the hopes of picking up our much awaited part!
Author: Pete
Location: Isla Isabela, Galapagos
Date: March 26, 2015
Spent the last days on a big empty boat. Liza and Felix took off for Isla Santa Cruz to surf and check out a little of the island’s fauna. While they were out gallivanting Miranda and I worked on the boat!
The mounting cup for our heat exchanger cap cracked off during our last motorfest. We patched it temporarily at sea with epoxy putty, which seemed to hold pretty darn well. I have to stock up on that stuff! We wanted a real fix, however so we chased down a welder that J.C. knew, Sr. Pedro Pachai. It took some time to find him, and even showing him the offending part and pictures of the heat exchanger it was still time consuming to reach an understanding of what needed to be done. Thus, I waited around his shop for a while until he was finished with a job then a friend of his drove us back to the docks and I brought him out to the boat.
The big question was, do we have to dismantle the heat exchanger to bring it in to his shop? This would entail removing about 6 tubes, draining the coolant and sea water, and also pulling the heat exchanger away from the diesel head, which would likely destroy a gasket that I didn’t have a replacement for. Quack. Much better if he could fix it on site. He poked around the engine for a bit, we cleaned up the metals and he said he could bring his tools to the boat tomorrow. We then offered him a cup of coffee and talked for about an hour. He ended up giving us unsolicited marriage advice for half of it. He was like the Mr. Miagi of welding. It reminded me of the book Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. Pretty funny.
The next day Sr. Pachai was back with his gear. He soldered the brass piece back on with a beefy soldering gun. Did a pretty nice job. He also brought us a book, What All Wives Wished Their Husbands Knew About Women. It’s in Spanish, but man, I’ve been looking for that book since I was sixteen! Anyway, that settled our most recent engine failure fun.
Changed the oil and oil filters on both engines and sail drives the following day. It now takes me about three hours in total. There’s a hot, thankless job. I also changed the pre-filter on the water maker. Seems like an eight minute process, right? Nope! Hour and a half! An hour and a half to replace a filter, and a lot of sea water in the boat.
In the afternoon we went body surfing on the long beach on the other side of town. Great sunset over the west side of the island. Also had some beers at a nice local watering hole, The Boobie Trap!
Yesterday I racked the diesel from the jerry jugs into the onboard tanks. We take about 25 gallons per tank, and hold about another 50 in the jerry jugs. Ready to fill up for the next push. Also, a favorite past time has become shooing the resident sea lions off our transoms! They flop their drippy bodies around the deck leaving fur, grime, and poop all over! A boat hook to their flabby ribs gets them over the gunnels with a splash.
Went snorkeling in the tintoreras nearby. They’re enormous basins that collect water during high tide, and are mostly closed from the ocean at low tide. They’re usually pretty clear. It’s a little stroll down a mangrove-encrusted boardwalk where you need to duck outstretched branches and dodge sunbathing iguanas and sea lions. There was some pretty good wildlife when we went out. We saw three big turtles sleeping underwater, a massive stingray, and some great sea urchins. No, we’re not talking about pirates.
Also, as the tide comes in the marine iguanas from the outer rocks start swimming to shore as their lounging areas become awash. So there were dozens of black swimming lizards cruising by. They’re pretty ugly little guys, but endearing at the same time with the white salty stalagmites on their faces. When they lay on shore they blow seawater out of their nostrils which accumulates on their heads in white nubs. This wards off the sun and gives them a snotty face only a mother lizard could love. Pretty neat.
Had some quiet evenings aboard, taking advantage of an empty boat. But now the crew is back and maybe some of the prep work will go faster with eight hands before we head off in the next week to the Marquesas.
