The Tuamotus

The Tuamotus
We refuel once again in Nuka Hiva before setting sail away from The Marquesas – that is an absolute hoot I can tell you! The fuelling dock is actually a car garage on the shore with a long hose stretching out across the car park to a solid concrete platform – the boats come in stern to dropping anchor to hold the bow and then throw stern lines across to the platform. This is really not for the faint hearted! The fleet has, very sensibly, an organised system which quite frankly was invaluable – two men on shore helping led by Rob on Talaba. The halyard line has to be thrown ashore (upwards!) and then the fuel pump is tied to the halyard and the whole thing pulled back in and then fuelling begins. The swell in the anchorage is fairly impressive so the boat rocks madly from side to side whilst all this is going on – diesel inevitably gets splashed everywhere. We managed perfectly but the next boat in made a real hash of it and the davits got smashed up against the concrete dock doing a lot of damage. The whole thing is just one more adventure – doing anything since Panama has involved high risk and lots of mess!! Wonderful fuel pontoons are a dim and distant memory as indeed are any form of dinghy dock!
We had big winds sailing up and flew along at 10+ knots in a very uncomfortable manner – I was seasick for three days which is unheard of – Charlotte managed well and had to feed the crew. We eventually came in to the pass almost bang on slack water (great planning as slowed down overnight to make sure we were on time) this is essential as the channels going into the atolls are small and as the water goes in or comes out it is like a huge surf wave – not to be done at the wrong time. Makemo is a wonderful and pristine motu and the first thing you notice is the wonderful indigo blue seas again – crystal clear. The village of Pouheva has the main school centre for central Tuamotus and the Paumotu people from the atolls send their children here to be educated – there is a big building that houses them. There is a Church (more missionary influence to be seen) a lighthouse, a boulangerie and a small shop. Once we have explored the village we head off to the more deserted side about 30 miles away across the lagoon – there are coral heads and bombies (bits of rock just breaking the surface) and we hoist Tom up to the second spreaders with a radio and he guides us through the dangers for over three hours. There was a ketch just ahead of us and Lisanne (another Oyster) just in front. After a couple of hours Tom radios to say the ketch is heading straight onto a coral head and we radio him to alert – despite trying 16 and many variations we do not raise him – Tom shouts but the ketch slams into the coral with a jarring thud that shakes the rig from side to side – holding our breath we watch but he manages to get himself off and just carries on as if nothing had happened! We checked he wasn’t sinking and then went alongside – not only did he not have anyone up in the rigging he had an old bloke on the front without even the requisite sunglasses which at least allow you to see the different colours under the surface. Idiot!
We anchor in crystal clear waters and this is just spectacularly beautiful – I thought that the San Blas islands could not be beaten but we’ve done it! This is just superb. The undersea landscape is spectacular and when snorkelling you can see the coral is alive everywhere and the variety of forms breath-taking – almost ultra violet in places and the clams are everywhere with electric blue lips quite fantastic to behold like jewels. Oh yes and then there are the sharks – black-tips we have seen in proliferation and I am still not comfortable however hard I try. I am a Jaws child and cannot kick the feeling that they are out to eat me! On our second snorkelling trip out on the reef having thrown out an anchor for the dinghy Oscar enthusiastically shows me a black-tip about 1.5 metres long and as it swims towards us I have a panic attack and have to shoot back to the dinghy as fast as I can! Funnily Richard seems not to be bothered by them and is quite calm – his swimming and snorkelling are amazing given he wouldn’t let go of the boat ladder a year ago. We go ashore and walk miles along the impossibly scenic white coral beach which is backed with arching coconut trees and lapped by topaz waters. Magical spot. We come across a small cemetary just back from the shore with Christian and Polynesian symbols both used – maybe 20 or so marked graves with carved coral – the most peaceful of sites to choose. At night we have dinner on board with another boat that is in – under the starry sky.
Deciding on a beach bbq we head ashore with our bags and utensils and Oscar sets up the grill. It is so amazing I am lost for adjectives really! We take the directors chairs and our small table and Richard and I play a game of scrabble under the coconut trees with a cold glass of wine – so civilised and just one more place we have now played the game – Oscar says I should write a book entitled Scrabble travels! As our tuna steaks are placed on the makeshift table next to the grill a chicken (yes there are lots wandering around!) jumps up and grabs a piece and makes a run for it – hysterical. There are also, improbably, hundreds and yes I mean hundreds of bright red hermit crabs just trotting up and down the beach all sporting rather smart shells – they are big, about the size of my outstretched hand – such a bizarre sight.