September 30, 2007 - Enroute to Beveridge Reef

We have immensely enjoyed these past three months in French Polynesia, but it is time to move on. We need to have Mata'irea on the hard in Whangarei, New Zealand in time to catch our plane out of Auckland on November 19th. That gives us roughly six weeks to cover a whole lot of water. So even though the wind isn't cooperating, we're leaving Bora Bora this afternoon. Moonshaddow left yesterday. Encanto is also leaving today. Unlike most of the boats we've met, Encanto is heading back to the States, via a North Pacific loop. It is hard to say goodbye to such fast friends. As a parting gift, Judy gave us a set of Tibetan prayer flags, which have been blessed by her brother-in-law, who is a high lama. We think they are a nice complement to our Red Sox battle flag. Go Sox!
We were going to sing Sweet Caroline over the VHF radio to the rest of the anchorage when we found out they clinched the division, but we decided that was a bit over the top. Maybe if they beat the Angels . . .

September 29, 2007 - Matira Beach, Bora Bora

Since Dad left last Sunday, we've spent the week getting ready for the long passage ahead of us. It seems like such a long time since we've done a big one. Several boats this season have run into big weather on this leg, so Sten was keen to get our storm trysail (a very small main sail that we can use if the wind is so strong that our triple-reefed main is too much canvas) rigged to make sure everything works. Good thing he did. It turns out that the track on the mast that the trysail attaches to was bent, very slightly, but enough that the sail wouldn't raise. Sten straightened it out. Now we needed a way to control this sail once it is up. So Sten re-engineered some snapshackles so that he could attach some blocks to padeyes on the stern cap rail. The sheets that control the trysail now run cleanly through those blocks to the big winches in our cockpit.

Meanwhile, I've done loads of laundry, cooked up a mess of passage meals, and cleared us out of the country. But it hasn't all been drudgery. Sten hauled me up the mast yesterday to inspect it. I love going up the mast. I also worked on our Ditch List - the items we're going to take with us if we need to abandon ship. I tried to convince Sten that the All Clad should be on the list - not because I think I'm going to need it to whip up a meal when we wash up on an atoll, but because it would be good ballast for our six person liferaft, which is a bit big for just the two of us. Arguably, we should have done all this long before we crossed the Pacific, if not before we left Newport. By doing it now, we're probably guaranteeing that we will have no wind at all on the next passage.
We've also been enjoying hanging out with the Amberchans on Encanto. What a fantastic family. Sten and I would start breeding tomorrow if someone could guarantee us a set of kids like Gaby and Sami. Gaby has been teaching us how to play Mahjong. Last night Encanto had all the cruisers in Bora Bora over for an ice cream social. We contributed a plate of brownies to the feast.

September 22, 2007 - Matira Beach, Bora Bora

This morning the Pearl Hunters were finally successful. Sasha at Niko's was more than willing to set the pearls that I had bought at Assam's pearl farm in Apataki. Dad and I enjoyed his air conditioned hospitality, complete with an ice cold Hinano and glasses of champagne. When we were done grocery shopping, we stopped back at Niko's. They were done setting the pearls. Possibly best of all, they provided us with transportation back to Matira Beach. If you've picked up pearls in the Tuamotus and want to get them set in Bora Bora, I highly recommend visiting Sasha.
After lunch, we all piled in the dinghy, and headed over to the Sofitel's Motu to snorkel. The water was incredibly clear and the fish super friendly. Unfortunately, the coral was in tough shape from too many years of tourists and tour operators touching and standing on it.

That evening, Brian and Nell came over for cocktails and heavy appetizers. I had picked up a big bag of ice from Bloody Mary's after lunch the other day and Dad's last night provided us with the perfect excuse to fire up the blender.

September 21, 2007 - Matira Beach, Bora Bora

This morning Dad and I set out again on our hunt to find a place to set mom's pearl. Again, no luck. But, we did see some very fancy resorts and I got the opportunity to introduce Dad to the best ice cream bar ever - Magnum Double Caramel. Yum. We also found a beautiful anchorage. I stopped at a local dive shop to ask them about whether we could get into the anchorage with our 6 foot draft. A little way down the road, I stopped at another shop to confirm their instructions. We couldn't get one of the local buses to stop and pick us up, so we were relieved when two guys pulled their pick up truck over to the side of the road and offered us a lift in the back. It is possible that our judgment was impaired by the heat stroke. Gripping the box that we were sitting on for dear life as they careened around corners, we made it back to the dock at Bloody Mary's in record time.

At the dock, we ran into Brian and Nell, and passed along the advice we were given about getting into the anchorage off of Matira Beach. While we were gone, Sten had installed the rebuilt raw water pump on the generator. He also changed the exhaust elbow and installed new injectors in the generator in an attempt to rectify our high load black smoke problem. While he cleaned up his project debris, we threw together a few sandwiches and got underway so that we could get into the new anchorage with good light. Keeping the channel marker close to the port side of the boat, we weaved our way among the coral heads off of Matira Point. The water was so clear, the coral looked like it was only 2 feet under the surface, but somehow we made it through all right.

After anchoring, we went snorkeling. Loads of rays, a turtle, a moray eel, a nice spider conch shell and several fish we had never seen before made for a great snorkeling trip.
As I swam back to Mata'irea, I noticed that Storm Along was heading for a really shallow area. Feeling responsible because they were following my directions for getting in here, I jumped in the dinghy and told them that they needed to turn around. The sun was quite low at this point, and they were now heading directly into the setting sun, making it really hard to read the water. They wound up aground, surrounded by coral heads. I went back to Mata'irea to grab Sten and our masks and fins. While we were trying to get them free, two more cruisers came over to help, one of whom was Stephan from Muline, whom we hadn't seen since we shared an anchorage in Fatu Hiva 3 months ago.

Over the next few hours we tried lots of things to get Storm Along off, but nothing worked. Later that night, when the tide came up, they floated free. In the dark of night they managed to get themselves into a slightly deeper spot.

September 20, 2007 - Bloody Mary's, Bora Bora

Can you see the green reflection of Bora Bora's lagoon on the underside of the clouds? Isn't that amazing?

Yesterday morning we made a quick pit stop in Raiatea, so that Sten could pick up a piece of generator exhaust hose at the chandlery. Then we put up our mainsail and headed to Bora Bora. As soon as we cleared the reef surrounding Tahaa, the wind died. We tried to motor sail, but it wasn't very effective dead down wind. Foolishly, we didn't have our real preventer on. We only had the supplemental vang on - the block and tackle that we use to connect the boom to the side deck. We were rolling around violently in the swell, and wound up jibing accidentally, breaking the snap shackle on the block and tackle. This, on top of all of our anchoring issues, wasn't doing anything to bolster my dad's confidence about our skills.

Amateur Hour continued as we dragged during our first attempt to set the anchor in Bora Bora. Moving farther from shore, got the hook to set next to our friends on Storm Along. When Brian and Nell returned to their boat that afternoon, they were thrilled to see us. I'd like to think that it was our charming personalities that caused Brian to come over at the first opportunity, but I know that it was really Alena's 12 pound shipment of DVD's that lured him over.

This morning, while Sten rebuilt the spare generator raw water pump, which had been leaking a combination of oil and saltwater, with some of the spare parts that Dad brought with him, Dad and I headed ashore to stock up on French cheese and baguettes at the local grocery store and begin our hunt for a place that would set the pearl that I bought for my mom in Apataki. We got back to the boat in time to join Brian and Nell for lunch at Bloody Mary's. Sunny and Charlie from Cosmos told us that we had to check out the men's room. We were confused, but game. After seeing the local carving that adorned the pull chain on the latrine, Nell and I rushed back to the table to grab our cameras. If you ever make it to Bora Bora, don't miss the art in the men's room at Bloody Mary's.
After lunch, Dad and I headed over to Toopua Iti to do some snorkeling, while Sten stayed aboard to continue rebuilding the raw water pump. Since we had such a late and big lunch, we enjoyed "baguette dinner" - a Mata'irea favorite involving crusty bread, cheese, a few knives, and some grapes - while we played Rummikub.

September 18, 2007 - Hurepiti Bay and Marina Iti, Tahaa

Two views of Mata'irea and a charter boat anchored in Hurepiti Bay.

This morning we joined up with the six guests of a crewed charter boat to take the Vanilla Tour. We learned how vanilla is pollinated (none of the insects in the islands will do it, so it must be done by hand), how it matures on the plant, and how it is then dried in the sun, a few hours each day, to develop the flavor.

A vanilla farmer and his little black dog, named Vanilla

Tahaa vanilla is supposed to be the best in the societies. But today we learned that a lot of the vanilla that is dried on Tahaa is actually grown in Raiatea and Huahine. It is sold for more than twice as much as the vanilla grown on the other islands. We bought some to compare to the vanilla that we bought on the side of road in Huahine. We couldn't detect any appreciable difference between the two.

Sten and the quintessential ugly American.

This guy had been around the world via airplane, but he never stayed anywhere very long and he had no respect for the people or places that he visited. He styled himself as a photographer. We particularly liked it when he grabbed a piece of tapa cloth that our guide was showing us and stuck a flower through it to set up a still life.

After the tour, we followed the charter boat down to Marina Iti. We arrived in time to do a bit of snorkeling, have a few cocktails aboard, and don our finest tropical duds, before heading ashore for the Polynesian buffet and dance night. The food at the buffet was fine (except for one dish that was so over salted it was inedible), but there wasn't much variety. However, the dancing more than made up for it. The dancers were clearly having a great time, and their enjoyment was infectious.

As the show began, we could hear our favorite ugly American call out "Bring on the dancing girls!" When the lights dimmed, dad asked the ugly American/ photographer how he was going to deal with the backlight. He replied "I paid $2,000 for this camera, it better take care of it for me."

Sten's career as a male model was kicked off by assisting with the pareo demonstration.
I took part in that ancient Polynesian tradition - dancing with the tourists.
After that bit of silliness, the firedancers came on stage. It was an exciting end to a very fun day.

September 17, 2007 - Passe Toahotu, Tahaa

After exploring the river yesterday, we headed north to Tahaa. We decided to try something a bit different than anchoring in another bay, so we dropped the hook behind the motu just north of Passe Toahotu. The weather was settled enough to snorkel and have cocktails in the cockpit before dinner. Unfortunately, the wind built steadily during the night. The current was cross to the wind, so we bounced around quite a bit during the night. None of us slept much, and Dad wasn't feeling very good in the morning. As soon as breakfast was over, we set out to find a more protected spot. Due to the current running perpendicular to the wind, we ended up having another snafu raising our anchor. To add insult to injury, a squall passed through while we were messing around on the foredeck. By the time we finally got the anchor on deck, Dad had forgotten all about being seasick. I tried to convince him that we had intentionally created the stressful situation to distract him enough so he would feel better, but yet again, he wasn't buying it.

We spent the morning in foul weather gear motoring around the northern tip of Tahaa. By early afternoon we had almost circumnavigated the island. Since, after months of trouble free anchoring, we seemed to be having a streak of bad luck, it was clearly time to switch to picking up moorings. Luckily, due to the many charter fleets based in Raiatea, there are loads of free moorings around Raiatea and Tahha. We found one available in Hurepiti Bay. As the afternoon wore on, the weather settled down a bit, and we enjoyed sundowners and a few spirited rounds of Rummikub in the cockpit before dinner.

September 16, 2007 - Faaroa Bay, Raiatea

Indiana Jones and Panama Jack heading up the river.

After breakfast this morning, we had a short motor to Faaroa Bay. Legend has it that the Polynesian explorers who migrated to New Zealand and Hawaii, set out from the river that feeds this bay. We set out in our dinghy to explore the river. It was quite shallow and silty. Both riverbanks were lined with plantations growing taro, bananas and vanilla. We stopped to visit a botanical garden, where we were joined by the crew of Moonshaddow. This fierce looking fellow gave us a tour of the garden.
At the garden, we met up again with a young pair of German backpackers, whom we had given a lift to Raiatea from Huahine a few days prior (this was our first time giving someone a lift on Mata'irea - it wasn't a total disaster, but we probably wouldn't do it again if it were going to be going any further of a distance).

September 15, 2007 - Hotopuu Bay, Raiatea

After weeks of cleaning and polishing, Mata'irea is in boatshow condition. She hasn't looked this good since before Sten's mom arrived for her visit last February. The impetus for the scrub down is my dad's arrival today for a week long visit. We'll be moving around a lot the next few days to try to fit in as many of the highlights of Raiatea and Tahaa, which share a barrier reef and lagoon, before a midweek daysail over to Bora Bora.

After picking dad up at the airport in Raiatea, we headed back to Mata'irea for a late breakfast. While Sten whipped up breakfast, we sorted through all of the loot that Dad had smuggled in for us. Our care package included homemade zucchini bread and sundried tomatoes from my parents' garden, steak and pecans. He also brought loads of spare parts for the generator and a new keyboard for our laptop. But the most exciting deliveries were the 12 pounds of DVD's that Alena copied for us, a pile of recent issues of the Economist and the latest Harry Potter. We now have more than enough entertainment material to keep us occupied on the long passages ahead of us.

After breakfast, we went to raise the anchor, only to find that it was firmly hooked on an abandoned length of chain. This was a first for us, and we had to figure out a way to get our anchor unhooked. The solution involved our snubber, the spinnaker halyard, and some sacrificial line. I tried to convince Dad that we had stagged the incident to display our problem solving skills and teamwork, but I don't think he was buying it.
The anchoring drama continued at our next stop, Hotopuu Bay. After trying, and failing, get the hook to set in a shallower part of the bay, we ended up anchored in 110 feet of water. After a quick lunch, we set off to see Marae Taputapuatea, the most important religious site in the Societies. As we pulled up to the beach, we met a man from Easter Island who was dancing a prayer over his fishing net. Through a combination of French and Spanish, he explained that Raiatea was the center of the Polynesian triangle. He, along with representatives of the rulers of the rest of Polynesia, had just spent a week at the marae, praying, celebrating and building up mana. We were bummed to have just missed experiencing such an event.

September 13, 2007 - Fare, Huahine

The other morning we rented bikes to tour around the island. We started in the main town of Fare, and headed north east, to the village of Maeva. On the shores of the lagoon in Maeva sit a number of maraes (temple sites) and Fare Pote'e, a cultural center. Dorothy Levy, a Californian who has lived on Huahine for decades, runs the cultural center. We told her about naming our boat for the island, and she shed some light on the name that we had chosen.

We knew that Mata'irea was the ancient name for the island of Huahine. We also knew that the subparts of the name mean wind (mata'i) and golden (rea). Dorothy explained that the ancient Polynesians didn't have gold. Their term for golden was a description of the sun's light, a brilliant warmth that caused their crops to grow. So she translates Mata'irea as "brilliant breeze". She thought it was a rather good name for a boat - we have to agree.

After visiting with Dorothy, we had to hike up Mata'irea Hill. We passed the ruins of the homes of several chiefly families and maraes as we climbed into the lush, damp forest. At the crest of the hill sits Mata'irea-Rahi, which was the most important temple in the Society Islands, prior to the erection of the big complex in Raiatea.

We rested there for a bit and had lunch while we enjoyed the spectacular views of the lagoon and reef below us and the cooling trade winds. As we descended the hill, the path wound through a vanilla farm. At the bottom of the path, we found a table set up on the side of the road with bags of vanilla for sale on it. We picked up a few, and have been enjoying vanilla in our breakfast coffee and french toast.

A volunteer vanilla shoot climbing a tree.

We continued biking around the island, stopping at every "snack" we came across to supplement our water supply with sodas. We visited the local pearl farm to check out the pottery thrown by another Californian, Peter Owen.

Peter's son is the champion long distance outrigger canoe paddler for all of Polynesia. His supporters' bumper stickers adorn many of the vehicles around the island.

We biked through Faie, bypassing the opportunity to feed the sacred eels - we saw the slimy, blue eyed creatures the last time we were here, and continued on to the first real hill. I ended up pushing my bike up and down most of it, due to gears that didn't shift and questionable breaks. Sten walked a bit, but he was able to pedal up and coast down much of it. The next hill was easier, and a passing rainstorm was refreshing. We were happy to reach the flat coastal road in Fitii. We wrapped up our trip with some soft serve ice cream from one of the roulettes by the town pier.

The only thing scarier than this sign, was the one that proceeded it, which warned us that we were in for a 2km, steep uphill pedal - or in my case, push.

Yesterday we snorkeled outside the reef. We could hear the whales talking to each other, but we didn't see any. At sunset we picked up Anya and Gaby from Encanto and rafted up our dinghy with Moonshaddow's dingy, just outside the pass. As the sun set, we drifted along, hoping to see the whales, and enjoying sharing drinks and snacks. The conversation kept coming back to the last Harry Potter book, copies of which are being passed around the other two boats, but everyone was careful not to give away anything in the last book, my copy of which is coming with my father on Saturday. Sometimes living so disconnected has its benefits - I have been able to avoid having the plot spoiled.

Towing moonbeam (Moonshaddow's dinghy) out the pass

This morning Sten enjoyed a final session of uncrowded daybreak surfing at Fitii. The lucky dog saw the whales again. We leave in a few hours for Raiatea, and I'm hoping to see them during the crossing. We may even catch up with the paddlers, who set out in three man canoes on an interisland race to Raiatea this morning.

September 9, 2007 - Avea Bay, Huahine

Memory is a funny thing. Although we haven't been far from the boat this past week, I feel as though I've explored the whole island; probably because we did during our honeymoon. The two experiences have melted into one memory of this place. As a result, even though we've spent a week of unsettled weather working on boat projects and hanging out with Nell and Brian on Storm Along and Susan and Steven on Surprise (a sleek custom Schumacher 46 www.sailblogs.com/member/surprise), my experience of this place seems very rich. On this trip, where we are so rarely in places that we have visited before, I had forgotten what it was like to revisit familiar places, where layers of memory add an additional dimension to the present experience.
Traveling and exploring new places is an extremely present tense experience. Everything is unfamiliar. Everything is new. The absence of the familiar opens the mind to old memories. They come roaring back. Conversations long forgotten pop into my head, rich with detail - every word, emphasis, tone and gesture remembered, the setting vividly recreated. When I was working I could barely recall a conversation had the day before if it wasn't related to the project at hand, let alone one from high school or college. Without the demands of the office and the noise created by the internet, radio and television news, colleagues, friends and family, the brain is given the opportunity to rattle about in its library of memories and find one for my entertainment. Often they are silly bits of fluff, but occasionally, they are meaty, awkward or embarrassing experiences that I haven't found peace with yet. Travel creates the opportunity to work though those experiences, to come to terms with them.
Theroux says is better than I can:

"Travel, which is nearly always seen as an attempt to escape from the ego, is in my opinion the opposite. Nothing induces concentration or inspires memory like an alien landscape or a foreign culture. It is simply not possible (as romantics think) to lose yourself in an exotic place. Much more likely is an experience of intense nostalgia, a harking back to an earlier stage of your life, or seeing clearly a serious mistake. But this does not happen to the exclusion of the exotic present. What makes the whole experience vivid and sometimes thrilling, is the juxtaposition of the present and the past -- "

the angst of the high school cafeteria revisited from a perfect half moon bay; the discord of a board call reviewed while drifting over a tropical reef; or the warmth from a half-forgotten friendship recalled while standing watch under the Southern Cross. We're so fortunate to have this opportunity for pause and review at this stage of our lives. Hopefully we'll learn something about ourselves to help us figure out what to do with the next stage.

A lion fish - poisonous, but beautiful

September 2, 2007 - Fare, Huahine

After a squally overnight passage from Moorea, a welcoming committee of three whales greeted us as we approached the pass at Fare, Huahine. Sten spotted their spouts first.
We hung out watching them for a bit as they dove and surfaced repeatedly along the reef. When they dive it creates a boil on the water.
At one point they were right under Mata'irea's bow.
After a while I dove in to try to swim with them, but they quickly moved off. Neither of us has ever been so close to a whale before. The big ones were massive. The little ones were the size of a small car. It was really amazing to listen to them communicate with each other.

We plan to be here for approximately two weeks. Mata'irea is the ancient name for this island, so it seemed fitting that we spend some time here. The fact that there are several good surf breaks, doesn't hurt either. The down side is that there is intense localism here. The locals don't want outsiders surfing their waves. They regularly steal surf boards left on the decks of cruising boats and outside at the resorts and pensions. They have been known to trash cameras, because they don't want their wave publicized. It is such a different attitude than we found in Teahupoo. Sten has found that if he goes out really early in the morning, he can ride for a bit before the locals arrive. This morning, he was surfing Fitii with a French cruiser who has spent several seasons surfing these breaks, but once the locals showed up, they both packed it in.
After two years of not being sure if we were pronouncing the name of our boat correctly, it is fun to hear the local guys saying our boat name as they paddle by on their surf boards or in outrigger canoes. As it turns out, we have been mispronouncing it. We have been saying "ma-ta-ray-ah". The locals really emphasize the "i" that we've been leaving silent - "ma-tie-ee-ray-ah" - almost like there is a guttural stop in the middle.

It has been fun to catch up with some of the other tail-enders, including Storm Along and Emelia. Last night we had drinks and dinner with Bahati, a boat we first crossed paths with in Bermuda. They are also surf crazed. Apparently, all one has to do to make my normally introverted husband the life of a party is to pour some rum into him and set the conversation to surf. Who knew?

For lunch today, we visited Te Marara, a waterfront bar and restaurant, where we satisfied our fried food craving with the best fries we've had since leaving the States. Sten wrapped up the day with a session at the left break at the Fare pass with Josh from Bahati. As they surfed, I watched the sun set over Raiatea, Tahaa and Bora Bora.