August 14, 2007 - Point Venus, Tahiti, Society Islands, French Polynesia

Our attempt to have an early morning departure from Rangi, in order to have a single overnight and good light upon our arrival in Tahiti, was foiled by current and engine trouble. We upped anchor, motored to the pass, raised the main sail, and started into the pass with the assistance of a 5 knot outgoing current. Half way into the pass, we realized that the standing waves in the pass, created by the current rushing against waves generated by several days of high winds, were bigger and more dangerous than we had realized from inside the lagoon. Just as Sten spun us around to head back into the lagoon, the engine hiccuped. I eased the main to give us some downwind power and we surfed down 8 foot standing waves back to the safety of the lagoon. Other than the storm going to Bermuda, this was the scariest experience we have had on Mata'irea.

Anchored once again in front of the Kia Ora, Sten changed the fuel filters on the main engine and discovered that the fuel we had taken on in Galapagos was cloudy; we had just switched to that tank a few days prior. With fresh fuel filters, and a slack tide, we set out again for Tahiti. We did our best to eke out enough boat speed to make it into the pass at Papeete and several miles down a well marked but reef strewn channel to the anchorage before sundown the next day, but we ran out of time. We noticed an alternate anchorage in our chart book, and headed to Point Venus. It was a few miles closer, and we only had to avoid a reef and some shallows to get into a safe anchorage. We were both so happy to be at anchor. These short passages really take it out of us. The noise and the motion is exhausting, and there just isn't enough time to adjust to not sleeping. We celebrated our safe arrival in this peaceful anchorage with grilled steak and a nice bottle of 1997 Cahors, that we brought home from France the summer I took the bar exam.

Point Venus is quite the historical spot. All the early explorers who helped create the myth of Tahiti as paradise anchored here: Cook, Wallis, Bougainville, and Bligh (of Mutiny on the Bounty fame). It was here that a young Polynesian woman climbed onto the foredeck of Bougainville's boat, dropped her sarong before 400 sex-starved French sailors who hadn't seen a woman in six months, and (when Bougainville's journals were published in Europe and the sailors who survived the trip home spread their stories in taverns) initiated the link between these islands and sex. Cook's journals from his Royal Geographical Society expedition in 1769 to measure the passage of Venus (from which this spit of land gained its name), with their descriptions of the Polynesians' unabashed nudity and public sex acts, reinforced the link. Soon Tahiti was synonymous with all things sensual and beautiful in the eyes of Europeans. Unfortunately, in the ensuing years Protestant missionaries and (after France kicked out the English) the Catholic Church managed spread their gospel of guilt and chastity and now the only nudity that one is likely to see in French Polynesia is among European tourists.

August 12, 2007 - Rangiroa

Continuing the Mata'irea Dinghy Outreach Program, which provides assistance to HP-challenged cruisers seeking to achieve their drift snorkeling dreams, we took a single-hander from Seattle with us on our pass runs today. We had been disappointed with the pass last week, so we were pleasantly surprised to see a whole family of manta rays lined up to feed on the incoming tide. We also spotted a big morey eel, several sharks, a small spotted eagle ray and a whole passel of fish. It was awfully cooperative of the pass to redeem itself before we took off for Tahiti.

The passage to Tahiti is about 200 miles. We haven't done a run that long since the trip from the Marquesas last month. Luckily, we'll have a month in the Societies to recover from this overnight before we start logging serious offshore miles to reach New Zealand in time to fly home to the States for the holidays. If anyone is interested in doing the run from Tonga to New Zealand with us during the first two weeks of November, drop us a line.

August 11, 2007 - Rangiroa

Yesterday we both had tremendous luck hunting for shells. I picked up a large branch murex, while Sten found a good size cowry of the same type as my trophy from Apataki in perfect condition. In exchange, I managed to leave some skin on the reef. What a silly way to ruin a perfect tan.

This morning we woke up with the urge to move on. It might have had something to do with the chop rolling through the anchorage, keeping us from sleeping through the night. We worked our way down the south coast of the atoll, past the Kia Ora Sauvage. It was cool to see our favorite spot from our honeymoon again.

This is a picture of the Savauge from our honeymoon. It served as both of our work computer screen savers for two years, helping to keep us focused on our goal of getting back here on our own boat.

We would have loved to stop, but unfortunately, the chop was even worse there than in our old anchorage, so we kept going. We gave it one more try on the south coast before admitting defeat. While all this wind makes for a tough night's sleep, the sailing is excellent. We screamed across the lagoon and returned to our old anchorage in front of the Hotel Kia Ora just in time for sundowners. While we were gone, a few more mega yachts arrived to class up the joint.

August 9, 2007 - Rangiroa

Our first morning anchored in the southeast corner of the lagoon I woke with a start. It took me a minute to figure out what had woken me up. Nothing. The boat wasn't rocking. The halyards weren't making any noise against the mast. The dinghy painter wasn't slapping on the water. My pre-coffee brain slowly absorbed these environmental clues and quickly shot back questions. Why weren't we moving? Why was it so quiet? Were we on shore? I stood up to stick my head out of the hatch over our bunk and look around. The water was a mirror. The was no wind. No wind means no wind chop in the water. No chop equals no movement. No movement equals no noise. It was the quietest moment we've had on board in months.
Living this close to nature, in all of its wonder and capriciousness, the weather has a tremendous effect on our experience of a place. It took a while for us to make the connection, but we've finally become savvy enough to ask other cruisers what their weather was like before we make travel plans based on their reviews of a destination. Based on our first two days here, during which the wind was light and the sun constant, I would encourage every cruiser coming through the Tuamotus to check out this anchorage. It is stunningly beautiful. But if we hadn't had those two days before the high winds, clouds and squalls set in, I wouldn't be recommending the spot.
Can you see the stingray in the picture below?
One of the dozens of motus that surround this anchorage.

Unlike Apataki and Ahe, where the beaches were coral rubble, the beaches here are pink sand, giving the spot the name Les Sables Roses. The first two days that we were here the wind chop and swell that turns the coral into pink sand had subsided, and the water, although cloudy from all the particles suspended in it, was still clear enough to snorkel. We came across a drop off near our boat that had multitudes of large fish swimming about. It was a happy hunting ground for my spearfisherman. After the wind picked up, the visibility in the water was so reduced that we couldn't find that drop off again, despite two attempts.

When we first dropped anchor off of Sables Roses, Sten announced that this was the kind of spot that he could spend a month in. But two days after the weather turned, with the windward side of the reefs explored and our snorkeling options exhausted, we were both ready to move on. During the past few days we had seen several boats approach our anchorage and turn back, presumably deterred by the coral fields that we had navigated on our way in. With a break in the clouds around noon today, we upped anchor to motor to a motu off of which we had seen several of those boats anchor. I could understand why they turned back. It was so much harder to read the water on a windy, cloudy day, with surface chop and small clouds casting shadows that looked a bit like submerged coral heads. We're hoping that the weather calms down again so that we can have a few more amazing days here before moving on to Tahiti.

August 4, 2007 - Rangiroa

We spent our first few days in Rangiroa anchored in front of the Kia Ora Resort. 3 years ago, this felt like the end of the world. Since then we've been places that make Rangi (with an airport, two villages, two nice hotels, several pensions, three restaurants, and half a dozen shops) feel like a big city.

On our first day here, we took care of our top priorities - getting a cheese burger, fries and a giant salad at the restaurant at the quay. The restaurant is on a terrace that overlooks a coral garden, where we saw the biggest moray eel yet. After lunch we traded some books at the Kia Ora, snorkeled the pass, and went back to Kia Ora for $15 cocktails.

The next day began with some fishing excitement. Sten had noticed that there were lots of fish feeding around our boat, so he set about trying to catch some lunch. After losing an old Gibb's striper fly to a garr fish and catching a remora with a small minnow fly (and releasing it) he got the fish he was after. After breakfast, we went to a magasin and spent $20 on 2 cucumbers, 2 tomatoes, a small head of lettuce and 2 baguettes. Seriously.

We had noticed one other American boat in the anchorage, Storm Along out of Chicago, so I dinked over to ask them if they wanted to join us for dinner at the local pizza joint. I assured them that I wanted nothing more than to spend an evening speaking English, with someone other than Sten. They completely understood. We had a great time with Brian and Nell, and hardly noticed that the service hadn't gotten any better than the last time we were here. One of our pizzas came with a mostly raw egg cracked on top of it. It looked revolting, but the egg was slowly cooked by the heat of the pie under it and the pizza turned out to be really good.

The following day was a work day. Over pizza Sten and Brian had been troubleshooting our SSB riddle. So Sten uninstalled, opened up, inspected and reinstalled the antenna tuner. Nothing obvious seems to be wrong with it. Sten also cleaned the goop out of the bilge pump intake strainer - a very messy job. In the afternoon, he pitched in on my project of polishing the stainless on deck - our windlass has never been so shiny.

The next day was overcast with periodic heavy rain showers. We spent some time visiting with Storm Along. Brian and Nell have been living aboard for decades. We were blown away by the level of organization on their boat. Thrilled to find some other folks who love Mexican food and margaritas, we invited them over for steak tacos - one of our favorite meals. I was able to score a bag of ice from the bar at the Kia Ora for the 'ritas.

Our Top of the Line Margarita Recipe

1 part - Fresh squeezed lime juice
1 part - Top Shelf Blanco Tequila - preferably Chinaco or Porfidio
1 part - Orange liqueur - preferably Patron Citronage or Cointreau

Combine ingredients in a cocktail shaker filled with ice. Shake very vigorously and pour into salt rimmed glasses. Enjoy! Credit to Frontera Grill in Chicago for this easy to remember arrangement.

Sten tried his hand at making tortillas with the press that Jay and John gave us before we left last fall. Nell provided a dessert of rum soaked bananas. The food was awesome. We were all having a great time, or so I thought until Nell noticed the time, not so discretely kicked Brian under the table, and within minutes it was just Sten, me and the dishes.

Today the wind shifted, providing us with a good opportunity to head to the far end of the atoll. We started the 25 mile trip by commissioning our new autopilot - 9 months after leaving Newport. The water was pretty flat and the wind light. I spent part of the trip making banana nut bread out of some of the bananas that Nell and Brian gave us. Sten started compiling the New Zealand boat work list. As we approached the south east tip of the lagoon, the water became much shallower and filled with coral heads and a few small white motus.

As we approached each coral bed, the water would slowly change from blue to aqua, then lime green just over the coral heads. I spent the last hour of the trip standing on the pulpit, one arm wrapped around the forestay, calling directions to Sten as he steered us around the coral. It is a beautiful anchorage. We're looking forward to spending the next few days here.

July 31, 2007 - Rangiroa

This is where the dream began. Three years ago, on our honeymoon, we spent a few days at the Kia Ora Rangiroa resort, then we crossed the lagoon to spend a few days at the Kia Ora Sauvage. While at the resort, we noticed a big yacht with its website address on its sailcover. We watched them loading their dinghy with baguettes, and wondered where they were headed. A few hours after we arrived at the Sauvage, they sailed in. Over the next few days we noticed them kiteboarding and having bonfires on the beach. After too few days our vacation was over, and we had to go back to our lives, but they were staying on to explore more of the Pacific. We were so envious.

When we got home, we checked out their website and saw all the places that they had been. We quickly went from, "wow, that's cool" to "wouldn't it be cool if we could do that" to "why can't we do that?" I started crunching numbers while Sten began researching boats and by that winter we had a plan in place. The next summer we bought Mata'irea and brought her back to New England for the refit. We spent the next year working on the boat and finishing our house renovations so that we could sell it. It took three years, but we're back in Rangiroa, where it all began.

July 30, 2007 - Apataki to Rangiroa

We had such a wonderful time with Ah Samg's family that it was hard to leave. They are such genuinely welcoming and hospitable people. The other evening I was sitting with NiNi while a new boat came into the anchorage. She and Ah Samg were so excited. Who were they? Where were they from? Living on an isolated motu, 10 miles from the only village on the atoll, which is tiny, cruisers provide the family with an opportunity to meet new people. They really enjoy the interaction with cruisers. The next afternoon, Ah Samg commented with some disappointment that the people on the new boat had only been interested in business. They bought some pearls and left the next day. Our week here has been one of the highlights of our trip. We are both glad we had the time to get to know this place and these people.

The passage from Apataki to Rangiroa was short but uncomfortable. It started with an easy downwind sail in the flat water of the lagoon. Then we rode through the standing waves in the southern pass at Apataki, which is shaped like a dogleg. It was easily our hairiest pass run yet. The trip is only 90nM but you have to go through the passes and lagoons at both atolls in good light, so basically it is an overnight no matter how you look at it. We had to go slowly so as not to arrive too early at the Rangiroa pass. To slow us down, we had only the jib up, then kept furling in a bit more as the wind built through the night. Usually we use the main to keep us from rolling, but it would have been too much sail for this passage. With only a scrap of jib up, no main sail, and wind chop from the south east crossing swell from the south west we rolled all night long. Lets just say neither of us got much sleep last night.

July 29, 2007 - Apataki

According to Assam, this (the brown spotted guy in front of the coral cave) is the tastiest fish in the Tuamotus:

Luckily for me, Sten has gotten pretty good at spearing them.

We've been meaning to leave Apataki and head for another atoll, but we keep getting waylaid. The wind has been a bit stiff these past few days (gusting up to 35). Neither of us is in much of hurry to have a rough overnight passage. Conveniently, the family keeps giving us reasons to hang around. Yesterday Assam (actually spelled Ah Samg) and MeMei (I got that one wrong too - she spells it NiNi) invited us to gather giant clams for dinner. Let's see, shall we go out and get knocked around or shall we stay and feast on clam curry? That's an easy one.

While Assam and Sten extracted the clams, with their vibrant purple, emerald green and turquoise mantles, from the coral heads growing in the pass between this motu and the next, NiNi set me up with the gear to fish the current (a bucket of hermit crabs and a handline, weighted with a small piece of coral) before she sat down to clean the clams that Assam and Sten brought her. I've gotten over my squeamishness about dragging the hermit crabs out of their shells and snapping their heads and claws off of their bodies. However, I wasn't quite prepared for splattering myself with crab guts as I twirled the weighted handline over my head to get up enough momentum to launch it into the current. NiNi got a good laugh out of watching me wrap the handline around myself. I haven't seen anyone quite so entertained by my attempts to fish since the first time I went saltwater fly fishing with Sten's dad. NiNi and Ah Samg are always laughing. They have such a positive outlook on life. It makes them both seem much younger than their years.

We joined NiNi and Ah Samg for dinner. We were just expecting clams, but she also made fried fish and a dish of bok choy stir fried with corned beef (not a combination that I would have ever dreamed up - it wasn't bad, actually). Sten grated and squeezed the coconut to make the coconut milk. Fresh coconut milk is so much better than the canned version we usually use for curries. My Papeete shopping list includes a coconut grater so that Sten can keep me in coconut milk. As NiNi says, making coconut milk is a man's job. That's a bit of sexism that I'm willing to embrace wholeheartedly. Assam also turned some of the clams into a tasty ceviche of sorts - he used vinegar (rather than lime juice) for the acid and flavored it with mustard and garlic. My desert offering was chocolate chip cookies made from Sten's family recipe, which were a big hit. We've had some requests for the recipe, but I can't add it to the blog before getting permission from Bill and Suzy.

This morning we spent an hour with Alfred combing through bags of black pearls. Black pearl is really a misnomer. The variety of colors was amazing - from aubergine (eggplant), peacock (green and blue), red (a deep purplish red), blue and a tawny golden color. Unlike Ahe, where we traded rum and whisky for pearls, Alfred was interested in cash. He treated our US dollars as on par with the Polynesian franc (CFP). Therefore, we got about an 11% discount for using USD. There was no haggling over prices or bargaining. The price is set by the shape, size and surface quality (the fewer imperfections, the more expensive) of each pearl. Alfred measured and examined each pearl we chose, then applied a grade (A - nearly perfect, B, C, or D - like your dog chewed on it) to each pearl. The largest pearl I chose was baroque (pear) shaped, which is considered less valuable than a round pearl. Thus we paid more for each of a smaller set of pearls (for earrings) of similar surface quality than for the large pear. Alfred explained that the price they charge per pearl in the family's new pearl shop in Bora Bora, which is run by his wife Pauline, would be about 3 times as much per pearl. I'm looking forward to seeing the shop when we are in Bora Bora in September.

We were still thinking about leaving this afternoon, until Alfred invited Sten along on a pig hunt. Hmmm, passage or BBQ? Again, that's an easy one. I gladly stayed behind to do laundry (I just don't need to see my food running around before I eat it) while Sten went off with the guys. Enroute to the motu where the pigs live, they stopped at a fish trap to spearfish. Sten said it was like shooting fish in a barrel. With one shot, he speared three fish. After the fish trap, Sten and one of the guys got dropped off a little ways away. While swimming down the beach to meet up with the boat, Sten speared two grouper. Meanwhile, Alfred, Tony, and Ocean went pig hunting. Alfred shot a pig from a distance, and was dismayed to discover that it was still nursing. They brought one of the piglets back to the family's motu to raise it. The other five were left to fend for themselves.

Dinner tonight included fish smoked over a coconut husk fire. Very tasty. Over dinner Alfred gave us advice on catching lobsters on the reef at night by mesmerizing them with a flashlight. The key is to wait at least 7 days after the full moon when the moon isn't so bright and the swell isn't so big. Actually, Alfred said that he could do it 3 days after, but that we amateurs should wait until the 7th day. We hope to give that a try later this week in Rangiroa. The weather is settling down a bit, so our current plan is to head for Rangi tomorrow.

July 27, 2007 - Apataki

We've spent the past few days snorkeling the reef and lagoon around Assam's pearl farm.


Sten has been practicing with his spear gun. Today he speared a grouper for our lunch. Then, late this afternoon he headed out with Tony and Ocean to fish for dinner. He speared one medium fish, but the big grouper got away - his spear was dull and it didn't penetrate far enough to hold onto the fish. These past few days Sten has made two more attempts to fish the outside reef, but both were foiled by heavy seas. Thankfully, there is always pasta. Meanwhile I've been hunting for shells. I found a big speckled cowrie that proved to be the exception to our rule about not taking occupied shells. Extracting the occupant was a gross, stinky, slimy operation that reinforced the rule.

It has been ages since we have had fresh vegetables. I was able to pick up two zucchini (so woody that my mom would have plucked them from the garden and immediately chucked them onto the compost pile) in Nuka Hiva, but that was it. The other night I commented to MeMei that I dream about salads. The next day the supply ship that provisions the atoll and picks up copra produced here arrived. Town was too far away for us to get there by dinghy, but MeMei remembered my comment and brought us some lettuce, tomatoes and carrots. That salad tasted so good.

The other morning, on their way out to pick up some oysters from the lagoon, Alfred, Tony and Ocean stopped by to see if we wanted to come with them. Strung between buoys on the surface of the lagoon are ropes, about 15 feet down, from which hang bundles of oysters, protected from predators by heavy plastic netting - much like snow fencing. We dove in and watched as Tony untied each conical net and swam it to the surface, where one of their employees pulled it aboard. After gathering 20 or so, they returned to the dock.

First the lines of oysters were removed from the protective nets. Then two of the employees scrapped the growth off of the outside of the shells, while Tony opened the oysters just enough to jam a rubber wedge between the shells. Inside the dock house, Alfred and Ocean used a series of tools (similar to dental tools) to tease the mantle away from the inside of the shell and (hopefully) extract the pearl.

The pearls they were extracting this day were the first from these oysters. Quite a few of the oysters didn't produce a pearl at all, so they were chucked into the to-be-eaten pile. Those shells that produced a pearl received a new round nucleus (made from the shell of a Mississippi river mussel) the same size as the pearl that was extracted. Alfred has been grafting pearls for 17 years. His motions as he extracted and grafted were incredibly efficient. Once a new nucleus has been grafted into the oyster, it is hung in a small net under the dock for a time before being placed back out into the lagoon.

We joined Alfred for a dinner of BBQ chicken (shipped from California). During dinner we talked (Beatrice and Antoine patiently translated my questions and the key points of Alfred's responses) about religion, the environment and the nuclear testing that used to take place in the atolls. The family are members of the Reformed Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Alfred was very clear that their church, headquartered in Missouri, was not the same as the Mormon church, headquartered in Salt Lake City. I knew that the Book of Mormon suggests that the Polynesians were descendants of migrants from South America and I wanted to know what Alfred thought. He agreed that due to the currents and predominant wind patterns that Polynesians must have come from South America. Alfred also noted that the Polynesian tiki culture is similar to the idol worship practiced by South, Central and North American Indians. Most anthropologists and archeologists believe that Polynesians, Micronesians and Melanesians descended from Asian migrants. Alfred pointed out that Polynesians are much taller than Asians. I suggested that the height difference was a result of generations of diets rich in protein.

Tuamotans, living on atolls only a few feet above sea level, are concerned about rising sea levels. Bush's refusal to sign the Kyoto Protocol is an unpopular decision here. After we Americans had our moment of discomfort, it was the French's turn, as the conversation shifted to France's history of nuclear testing in the atolls and the recent sale of nuclear power to Libya. As far removed as Apataki seems to be from the rest of the world, the people here are tuned into world events.

July 23, 2007 - Apataki

We're anchored in front of Assam's pearl farm. It isn't included in our cruising guide (Charlie's Charts), but a French cruising guide features this as one of the better anchorages in Apataki. Our friends on Phoenix visited Assam and his family a few weeks ago. They had such a great experience that we thought we would check it out. When we arrived the other evening, Assam's son Alfred came out to guide us to a good spot to drop anchor. Yesterday evening, just as it was getting too dark to see the coral heads just below the water's surface, Beatrice and Antoine on the trimaran Manutea, with whom we had shared the anchorage by the pass the other night, arrived. Before we spotted them, Alfred was already on his way out to guide them in. Assam's family is very welcoming of cruisers. Last year 56 boats visited their pearl farm. Mata'irea and Manutea are the 28th and 29th boats that have visited them this season.
We were so glad to see Beatrice and Antoine. Since we left Fatu Hiva almost three weeks ago, Sten and I have not spent much time with other cruisers. Somehow it is easier to get to know another boat when there are only a few of us in an anchorage. In the crowded harbors, such as in Nuka Hiva, we somehow feel intimidated about introducing ourselves to others. It is similar to the dynamic of living in a small town verses a big city. So it was awfully nice to have Antoine and Beatrice over for dinner and get to know them a bit. Not only are they lovely people, but she speaks fluent English and is incredibly patient about translating for us linguistically impaired Americans.

This morning we all headed in to shore to visit Assam, his wife MeMei, their son Alfred, Alfred's son Tony, and Tony's girlfriend Ocean. Assam and Ocean showed us around his farm. When they first relocated here 20 years ago, there was hardly anything growing on the atoll. We were impressed with how many different kinds of plants they were able to grow in the coral rubble
that passes for soil on an atoll. Their secret ingredient is chicken droppings, which they mix with ground coconut, and feed to the roots of the trees. As a result, they are able to grow mango, vanilla, banana, and noni plants. The poulet poo comes from the hen house where MeMei, wearing threadbare clothing, a hat woven from palm fronds and a luminous pair of pearl earrings, tends to 240 chickens. They sell the eggs in the village for approximately $6 a dozen.

Nothing goes to waste here. The oyster shells left over from the pearl production are polished to a beautiful sheen. Alfred, Tony and their four employees are currently busy filling an order for 5,000 polished shells from one of the big pearl boutiques in Bora Bora.

The shells that they are polishing are at least 4 years old, and up to 8 years old. An oyster must grow for 4 years before it is ready to have the nucleus of a new pearl grafted into it. 14 months after the first grafting, the nucleus will hopefully have grown into a pearl. The success rate is about 70%. The oyster can be used three more times to grow pearls. The resulting pearl is bigger each time but the trade off is that the luster of the subsequent pearls is diminished. The primary pearl from an oyster will have the best depth of color.

This is the power plant that Assam uses to run the whole operation - a single cylinder Lister, circa ???:

Assam and MeMei served us all some fresh coconut water from green coconuts.

As we were enjoying our refreshments, MeMei showed Sten how to grate the meat from the inside of brown coconuts, which is then squeezed through a cheese cloth to make coconut milk.

Grating and squeezing coconut is apparently a man's job. While we got to know each other, Beatrice and Antoine described how they had acquired Ciguatera (a poisonous toxin found in some reef fish) from shellfish that they had eaten in Daniel's Bay, Nuka Hiva. They had a mild case, but even so, they couldn't risk eating fish for fear of adding more of the toxin to their system. So they have been living on rice and pasta for the past few weeks. Assam, who never sits still very long, bustled off and cut down some pandanus stalks, which Alfred peeled, then Assam mashed and juiced, which he then mixed with coconut milk. The result looked like cold pea soup. I sniffed it, but I wasn't allowed to try it as only someone with Ciguatera should ingest it. I also wasn't permitted to photograph the process of making it, as taking pictures would destroy the power of the medicine. Similarly, they can't ask for money for treating someone or sell the medicine. Beatrice and Antoine have to take the medicine for two more days. When they are done with the three day course, they will be able to eat fish again with less risk of a relapse.

It was during the making of the medicine that Sten noticed a shark in the shallow water. MeMei announced that it was a sleeping shark, and bustled off to get an old fish to feed it. Before she would feed it, she teased the shark a bit with the fish, pat its flanks and stroked its head. Imagine, a pet shark!

Afterwards Assam brought out a book on local marine life. I pointed to a picture of the grey reef shark that had swum out of the depths of the pass to check me out the other day. MeMei explained that they were very aggressive. So I don't feel quite so wimpy about calling for the dinghy extraction.

There currently isn't any Ciguatera in the fish in Apataki. So fish was on the menu. Late in the afternoon we all went fishing on the windward side of the reef. Sten, casting with a rod and reel, landed a small parrot fish, which was deemed by MeMei as no good for eating, but excellent bait. I, doing god knows what with a wooden stick and a baited hook, caught nothing. MeMei, also using a stick for a rod, and Assam, spear fishing, cleaned up. Antoine discovered that spear fishing in Assam's wake is not a good way to find fish. And Beatrice had the luck of a rookie - her first time fishing and she landed two of the three fish she hooked. For bait we were using hermit crabs. MeMei, still wearing those spectacular pearl earrings and woven hat, showed us how to yank them out of their shells, then rip off the portion with an exoskeleton, which she tossed on the beach to crawl around until they realized that their guts were missing. I managed to bait my own hook twice, but I was such a squeamish little girl about the whole thing. Embarrassing, really.

To go with our fish dinner, MeMei and Assam made two kinds of poi. The first involved mashing the hearts of 8 germinating coconuts, which Beatrice handled with aplomb, then mixing the mash with flour and sugar. MeMei then dropped the dough into boiling water, and cooked it like a dumpling. The result was dense and starchy, but kind of sweet and tasty. The second kind of poi was made by mixing tapioca flour and water in a bowl, which was then cooked in a pot of hot water. The result looked like ectoplasm. Beatrice then mixed it with coconut milk that Assam made by grating and squeezing 5 brown coconuts. The result was slimy but sweet. Assam and MeMei began the meal by singing grace. I couldn't understand a word of it, but the sound was beautiful, and I silently gave thanks for their generosity and hospitality. Since we were complete failures at contributing any fish to the meal, I was glad that we were able to provide a key lime pie for dessert.

July 21, 2007 - Apataki

Hello, motu. It is days like the past few that we were hoping for when we set out on this adventure. We spent our first two days here tucked behind a small reef, about a mile from the pass.

We took advantage of the close proximity to the pass to drift snorkel it three times. We saw plenty of fish, including Napoleon wrasse, grouper and tuna, moray eels, and sharks, mostly black tip, but I did have one large grey reef shark swim out of the depths to check me out - I quickly waved Sten over for a dinghy extraction.

Late in the afternoon on our first day here Sten did some fishing on the ocean side of the reef. He landed a nice 10lb jack on the first cast but released it due to Ciguatera worries. He also hooked a large Barracuda but managed to get it to spit the lure out before things got too dicey. It was pretty exciting as he was using a surface lure, which he could see the fish follow through the swells, backlit by the setting sun.

Yesterday we were joined in our anchorage by a French couple on a brand new trimaran that they had just sailed down from San Diego. Their boat folds up. Seriously. The side hulls fold in so it can be trailered or shipped in a container. Their main engine is a 10hp outboard. Their dinghy is an inflatable kayak. They pee in a bucket. It just goes to show that there is no one right way to do this kind of trip. However, drift snorkel extractions in a 4 knot current would be a bit difficult in a kayak (and I don't even want to imagine provisioning trips . . ). So we piled them into our big dinghy (whose outboard engine is more powerful than their main engine) and took them off to do the pass. It was really fun to share the experience with some other people.

Today we headed across the lagoon to anchor in the south east corner, in the lee of a motu, protected from the prevailing winds. Our trip over was a bit slow. We had to tack back and forth to make any progress upwind to the anchorage. We also had to tack around reefs and pearl farm buoys. As the afternoon wore on, the wind petered out. It is frustrating enough to have to approach your destination in segments, 45 degrees off your target, but to do so slowly is just annoying. To keep our spirits up and help us stay awake and focused on spotting bommies and buoys, we turned up the tunes and had a dance party on the deck.

Our new anchorage is as beautiful as the prior one.

What a stunning end to the day.

July 19, 2007 - Apataki, Tuamotus, French Polynesia

Yesterday Sten and I finally displayed some patience and common sense with regard to night entrances. We left Ahe too late in the day to make it through the pass at Apataki before sunset. So, rather than risking the pass in the dark, we spent the night hove to in the lee of the atoll, waiting until the sun was high in the sky to make a go at the pass. Patience paid off. If we had relied upon the chartplotter, which thus far in French Polynesia has been completely accurate, we would have either put ourselves on the reef coming through the pass or hit an unmarked reef once we were inside the lagoon. So, umm, glad we didn't do that.

July 16, 2007 - Ahe

Today we headed back across the lagoon to the pass in our dinghy. We each did two drift snorkels through the pass on the incoming tide. While one of us snorkeled, the other hovered nearby in the dinghy to pull the swimmer out before we reached the turbulence caused by the current hitting the wind chop at that inside of the pass. It was cool. Really cool. We moved though the pass at about 5 knots. It felt like we were flying over the seabed below. The water was crystal clear - like gin. The coral growth was really healthy and colorful. There were lots of pretty fish. And . . . we saw barracuda, nurse sharks and a black tipped reef shark. Wicked cool.


We also snorkeled on the wreck of the sailboat that sank when it dragged into a field of bommies a few weeks ago. It was really creepy. Here was a 50+ foot sailboat, with twin engines and a 3 spreader rig, on its side against a reef. The deck had already been stripped of all the running rigging, sails, instruments, dodger, and safety equipment. The seabed had personal items strewn around - a teapot, a sweater, some pillows and some manuals. Neither of us was interested in diving inside to see what was left down below. The whole scene oozed bad juju. It is a comfort to know that the couple aboard got off without injury. Still, it is so sad to see someone's dreams dashed like that.