Landfall Tuamotus

Up until last night, the passage from the Marquesas to the Tuamotus was one of the easiest, most perfect trade wind sails I’ve ever done. 3 days of non stop 20 knot winds on the beam with almost no swell; Rafiki was cruising along in the high sixes under double reefed main and full jib, very comfortably. We just passed the time reading, sleeping, watching the sea go by, watching the sky … it’s amazing how days disappear.

Then in the evening, a thicker band of clouds built on the southern horizon, just where we were heading. The night ended up being dark, wet and squally. New moon is in a couple of days so no light from Mr Blue Cheese, and thick clouds hid the usual canopy of stars and Milky Way. Wind shifting all over the place, and varying from nothing to 35 knots, so we were all kept busy on our watches. I’m always the standby guy for the others when they are on watch, so I didn’t get a lot of sleep.

Dawn at 0530 brought a treat, as we left the darkness of the night behind us … land! At first it just looked like regular waves do on the horizon – lumps that come and go – but these lumps weren’t moving. Low and subtle, but definitely land. It’s the atoll of Makemo, a thin strip of land surrounding a lagoon – our first stop in the Tuamotu archipelago. 40 miles long and about 15 miles wide, the strip of land rarely more than a few hundred metres across, and only going partially around the lagoon. It couldn’t be more of a contrast from the towering peaks of the Marquesas; the atolls are just sand and a few coconut trees.

I spent a couple of hours tacking into the wind toward the island while the others slept, and at 0830 we made our final approach to the pass. I love the morning hours when I have the boat to myself. Just me and the ship. I usually make a fresh cup of coffee and just watch the night emerge into day. At sea you can see for such a long way. The sunlight catches the tops of tall clouds way over in the west well before there’s any sign of it appearing on the eastern horizon. Gradually greys and blacks turn to lilac, peach, salmon and eventually the hot piercing blue of another tropical day. When the others get up I have to make a conscious effort not to get grouchy, the peaceful solitude disappearing in a flash with the first word of conversation.

Some atolls are completely closed, we’re not visiting any of them as it’s not so safe to anchor on the outside (and it’s really really deep – over a kilometre just a few hundred yards off the reef). Some have one pass in the fringing reef, and some have more. Where there’s a pass, the tides bring the sea in and out twice a day. All the water in the lagoon needs to channel in and out through the pass, so it’s usually deep, but narrow – with fast, boiling currents at peak flow. Also, most atolls have a low, exposed, reefy south western side, which lets the waves crash over the top when the wind is blowing from that direction. The water can’t get back over the reef, which adds more water into the mix, so that sometimes, even when the tide is coming in, water is still flowing out of the pass. When the current in the pass is flowing in the opposite direction to the wind, then nasty standing waves can kick up, making things pretty dangerous. Add to this the fact that there aren’t accurate tide predictions for most of the atolls, and it becomes quite a navigational challenge.

My first atoll pass – a few butterflies in the stomach, but visibility good, approaching half an hour before estimated low tide, and not much wind or swell for the last few days to fill the lagoon with extra ocean. Spinning out of control and running the boat onto the reef is not something I want to do however, so as we made the final push into the narrow pass, I was on full alert. The current flowing out was fairly weak – 2 knots – so we motored hard against it and gradually edged our way into the lagoon, the water around us a confused mix of prickled wavelets and whirling eddies. Amazing colours. The sea has been an incredible shade of bright blue for days, even when it’s overcast, and when it gets shallow over the reef or sand it just explodes with vivid colour. Palm trees line white sand beaches just up from the surf on the reef, colourful buildings from the village stand amongst trees on the right hand side as we go in, and a couple of leading marks ahead guide us through into the deeper water. We’re through!

This is the south pacific I’ve been waiting for. We anchor in crystal clear water just off the village, D&E take the dinghy ashore to explore, and I tidy the up boat, have a swim, dive to check the anchor, and relax. We’ve found some wifi, so I’ve added some photos to previous posts too. The plan is to spend a few days in this atoll before moving on.