Author: cruisingrunner

Makemo is southwest of Raroia, and it was an easy overnight passage to get there.  It is an elongated atoll, it is oriented WNW to ESE, and it is shaped somewhat like a dumbbell (narrower in the middle than on the ends.)  Somewhat larger, it is about 40 miles long and 10 miles across.  There are two passes, and we entered the lagoon through the more southern one, which is actually on the north side of the lagoon, just about 1/4 way up from the southern tip.  The pass is called Passe Arikitamiro, and the village of Pouheva is just on the motu on the western side of the pass.  Entering the pass was pretty straightforward as we rode the incoming tide again and had a maximum of about 3 kt of current.  We elected to stern tie to the wharf at the village, and that turned out to be the most challenging aspect of our transit.  This was our first time with this maneuver.  We dropped the bow anchor and then backed into the wharf and tossed the dock lines ashore to some guys who came to help us.  The problem is that Exodus is so big and fat and has so much windage that we were getting pushed sideways pretty good, since the wind was blowing about 20 kt.  With Alex’s help, we were able to get everything secure.

We explored the town almost immediately, and we found it clean and the people friendly.  We found the stores pretty easily, including a bakery.  Baguettes, again!  Although they weren’t as tasty as what we had grown accustomed to in The Marquesas.  Right near the wharf was a covered recreation area for the kids including basketball hoops, and there were several kids playing as we wandered past.  Tim encouraged the boys to go play, and when they wouldn’t he gave them a little more incentive.  He told them if they didn’t go play with the local kids, they couldn’t eat anything we bought in town, including and especially the baguettes.  They were stubborn and went and sat on the wharf near the boat.  After a little more exploring of the town, we saw the kids again, and Tim talked to them and told them about the boys, and they are welcome to come play down by the boat.  The kids quickly accepted this offer and found the boys near the boat.  Brenden was going back and forth between the wharf and Exodus by shimming along the dock lines, getting dipped in the water along the way.  Of course, this looked fun, so some of the other boys wanted to try it as well.  Before long, they were all swimming, jumping off of Exodus, playing catch with our “futbol americain” and generally having a really good time.  Tim would throw the football and they would try to catch the football as they jumped off the dock.  Eventually, they all went to play soccer, including the Exodus and Lady Carolina boys.  When they got back, Brenden commented on how good at soccer they all were. 

That evening we were invited to watch the dance practice at a covered area right near the wharf, and so we all went down to watch.  The women of the town were practicing their dancing for the upcoming Heiva celebration, and we got to see the instruction and practicing and listen to the fantastic drum playing.  It wasn’t a professional dance troop, to be sure, but we had fun watching and talking to people.   The only downside was that after the overnight passage I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open after sitting there for a while.  Luckily, that wasn’t our only opportunity to watch them practice. 

The next morning when we got up there was a group of younger children on the dock with flowers, and they wanted to “change” them for chocolate.  After school, all the kids were back for more playing on Exodus.

After bypassing the opportunities in the Marquesas, Tim decided he wanted to get a tattoo.  I was skeptical about finding someone here in Makemo, after all, the Marquesans are very well known for their tattoos, and I had no idea what we could find in The Tuamotus.  After asking a few people and getting the same answer from all of them, the guys went to see Beko, and it turns out he’s a real artist.  In addition to tattoos, he engraves black pearls with intricate designs.  Tim saw his work, and thought, yeah, this is the guy I want to do my tattoo.  Would you believe his tattoo “machine” was broken?  No tattoo for you.  Tim and Steve suggested maybe they could fix it, but Beko had already thrown it out, so he’s no longer in the tattoo business. 

Not to be discouraged, the guys then turned their attention to the carved pearls and made some complex trading deals for him to carve some pearls for us.  Ok, not too complex, just some alcohol and a few boat items and they had their deals.  As a bonus, they got to meet Beko’s brother Victor.  Just like when you asked anyone in town about tattoos, they steered you to Beko, if you asked anyone in town about fishing, the only name you heard was Victor.  Since that is right up Tim and Steve’s alley, they joined him for spear fishing one day, but the “piece de resistance” was going out fishing with him on his boat.  If you haven’t seen it, go check out our youtube video called “Fishing with Victor,” and so not to spoil it too much I’ll just say it involves a harpoon rather than rods and reels.  OK, since I spoiled it, I’ll tell just a little more.  His boat is a hard bottom skiff, but unlike the Mexican Pangas which are driven by outboard from the back of the boat, just like our dinghy, Victor’s boat is driven from the front.  What he does is follow the birds until he finds a Mahi Mahi (Dorado) and then he chases it until it gets tired.  Then when he’s close enough he throws a harpoon at it.  His success rate was amazing, and they came back with 4 huge Mahi Mahi.   The only time he missed occurred because when he went to cock his arm to throw the harpoon the first time, he was interfered with by one of the fishing poles the guys had brought.  They had a great time, and when they got back, we invited Victor back to Exodus that evening and he had dinner with us, but I had seasoned up some Wahoo and baked it, and I’m not sure it was his sort of meal.  But he drank beer with us, and we all practiced our French, and overall had a very pleasant evening.

The only bad thing about being stern tied to the wharf was the weather.  On the one hand, it was comforting to be tied securely as squall after squall passed over.  But on the other hand, our orientation was such that the wind would blow dead astern, which means when it rained, the rained blew straight into the cockpit.  So, with the cockpit continually wet it put a damper on our pot lucking activities on Exodus.  One evening we ventured to the “restaurant” which wasn’t a restaurant the way we tend to think of them, but rather a place they will cook for you, if you make arrangements in advance.  Similar to some of the smaller villages we visited in Baja California. 

The first few days Lady Carolina was anchored rather than tied to the wharf as we were, but then they came in and parked right beside us.  At this point, I guess Tim and Steve decided they needed to up the ante for the kid fun, and they rigged a rope swing on Lady Carolina.  This was a huge hit, and even got the attention of the group of teenagers who had been hanging out on the dock but were too cool to come and play.  In addition to enjoying the rope swing and eating all of Carolina’s SAO crackers, they also enjoyed Steve’s weight set, and they were pumping iron to our amusement.  Well, I guess one rope swing on Lady Carolina just wasn’t good enough, so Tim and Steve attached a Lady Carolina halyard to an Exodus halyard, and then attached a third line to that, and created the rope swing of all rope swings that could be launched from the port stern of Exodus.  By late afternoon, we must have had 50 kids on or around our two boats.  It was a bit crazy and got away from us a bit, but amazingly nothing got broken or lost, well, except for Lady Carolina’s pulpit, which got a bit bent when a large kid used it as a springboard.  A couple times we had to remind them to not stand on the lifelines and not jump on the net, but overall, they are a good group of kids.  I spent some time with some of the older ones reading the French for Cruisers book together.  They would pick a phrase and ask me something in English and I would try to answer in French.  They seem to speak French more often here than in the Marquesas, even when interacting with each other.  In the Marquesas, we heard a lot of Marquesan.  I’m not exactly sure what the native language here is called.  They seem to speak Tahitian, but a couple words they taught us they would say, “in Makemo” indicating it’s a local language, but I’m really not sure.

A military boat pulled up to the dock while we were there, and at first, we were wondering if we would get boarded and searched, but that was not to be.  This was a French Navy boat with nothing to do with customs, and while they were there it was if the men all had a day’s leave as they explored the town dressed in shorts with their cameras.  They were all so young, and surprisingly spoke very little English, but they seemed to get at least a small kick out of all the local kids playing on our boats.

Once we had planned to leave the village and we had told the children, we ended up staying one more day at the last minute, and I’m so glad we did.  When I told the kids we were staying “a demain” (until tomorrow) they were so excited they hugged me, especially the girls who are “in love” with Alex, Brenden, Kyle, and Joel.  It’s funny, they communicate this by making a heart shape with their hands.  They wrote notes with lots of hearts on them and gave the boys silly band bracelets.  They spent the day with me on Exodus helping me chop vegetables and teaching me French.  One of the girls would say a phrase in French and then tell me, “repetez.”  They told me, in French, that they wanted souvenirs from us because they don’t want to forget us.  I told them, “OK I understand,” thinking I would think of some things and give them later.  Apparently, what I actually did was give them permission to go to Alex and Brenden’s rooms and pick out what they want.  They each came out with two shirts, dirty and smelly I might add, but they didn’t seem to care.  I felt so bad I had to stop them because since they’ve been growing the boys don’t actually have that many clothes to spare, especially Alex.  Oh, they pleaded with me to let them have shirts, so I dug around in Brenden’s cubby and found some (clean) older, smaller shirts and gave them each one.  Another funny thing is when Brenden came back, he asked if I cleaned his room.  I guess the girls thought the Legos needed to be tidied up a bit!  The next day Carolina was able to dig out a shirt of Kyle’s and gave that to one of the girls too, they were so ecstatic. 

Our last morning in town the girls were on the dock bright and early with more love notes for the boys.  But even more exciting, Beko brought us our pearls, and they were exquisite.  Tim “ordered” one with each of our names on them in addition to several others, and Brenden’s has a tuna on it, so he was happy.  Beko also brought Tim and Steve bone carved necklaces, “for the captains.”  I admired Tim’s because I had been wanting one like it, but I’m pretty sure that was not in front of Beko, so I’m not exactly sure what motivated his next visit, but he came back with necklaces for me and Carolina.  He said with a smile, “for two captains.”  The necklaces were gifts, thrown in with the pearls, which was very generous of him. 

When we finally pushed away from the dock, after the drama of the anchor windlass, we made our way just a little bit northeast to a secluded anchorage, which was the perfect place to decompress.  Brenden was feeling sick with a sore throat, so he was confined to the boat, but the rest of us went to shore in the afternoon to explore a bit.  It was pretty windy, and Alex and I had a hell of a paddle to get to the beach, and unfortunately for Alex, he forgot his shoes, so he had to go back and beat upwind a second time. 

After a day or two we made our way to the vicinity of the northwest pass.  It took four hours in squally weather to get there, and Tim and Steve both spent the entire passage hoisted up in bosun’s chairs near the first spreaders.  This was so they could have a higher vantage point to be able to see the coral heads that much better.  And of course, they each had a VHF radio in hand, so the bantering never ceased.  We had a difficult time finding a spot to anchor, and when we arrived, we actually had to wait for a pretty big squall to pass over us.  So, after getting windblown and dumped on, we made our way into a tiny, protected lagoon, and here we stayed just for a couple hours while all the boys, except Brenden, did a pass dive.  Brenden was still a little sick, so he remained in quarantine.  When they got back from their dive, we all decided to stay the night, so we moved Exodus out of the lagoon and out near where Lady Carolina was anchored, so we would have a bit more swing room. 

The next morning Alex woke up sick, and it turned out to be something like strep throat and he even had to take anti-biotics.  I teased him that it was mono and kept asking him which of the girls in Makemo he was smooching on.  When we raised anchor that afternoon, it was wrapped on a coral head, and Tim had to dive in to clear it.  So, with Alex out of commission, Brenden had to step it up and work the anchor windlass, since I was at the helm and Tim was in the water.  Brenden did a phenomenal job, and we were unstuck in no time.  We took a “shortcut” out of the anchorage, because Tim had dove there and he was confident Exodus could get through, and our pass exit was just as uneventful as all of our other passes.  Lady Carolina declined the shortcut route and took the safe, long way around, and their story afterwards was that they had a serious “oh shit!” moment where they only had a foot of water under the keel.  But when all was said and done, we were both out safely by 5 pm and on our way to Tahanea.

Raroia was our reward for the awful bash down from Nuku Hiva.  It is a large atoll, but not really one of the largest, which will give you a sense of just how big these things can be.  It’s oval shaped and about 21 nmi long and 6 nmi across oriented in a SSW to NNE direction.  It has a single pass for yacht transit called Passe Garue, which is situated on the NW side.  This is good, because since the trade winds blow from the E or ESE the pass entrance is in the lee of the atoll, so the sea conditions were calm as we waited to go through.  It is a deep pass with just a few exceptions, and according to Charlie’s Charts, “Tidal streams and currents can reach 8 knots and slack water is usually of short duration.”  Eight knots would be tough for Exodus, but luckily, we were there in much more benign conditions. 

There is a single village called Garumaoa, which again, according to Charlie’s Charts has a population of about 50.  I’m guessing since the publication is slightly dated that the population estimate is on the low side.  The village is located on the West side, down a well-marked channel about 1.8 nmi south of the pass.  This is also the atoll where Thor Heyedrdahl’s Kon-Tiki (google it) grounded on the eastern side of this island, and supposedly there is a little “monument” and even though we had GPS waypoints for it, we never went to see it.

I don’t have great notes on all of this, but my recollection is that we arrived at the pass entrance just about when we anticipated slack tide to be, but a quick look with the binoculars showed that it was still an incoming tide.  Since winds were blowing from the East we had the situation of current opposite wind, which every guidebook said you should avoid.  So, we slowed down and pondered what to do.  First, we radioed for “any station inside the Raroia lagoon” because we were told that when you pull up to a pass you can always reach another cruiser inside who can give you any necessary tips and intel about slack tide.  All we heard were crickets. Well, after that we didn’t ponder too much longer, because Tim’s assessment based on the visual with the binoculars of the standing waves on the inside of the pass (they were on the inside since the current was flowing in) was that it was something Exodus could easily handle.  Neither the wind nor current appeared very strong, so even with the opposing condition, it really didn’t look that bad.  Me, I probably would have waited around for slack tide before going in, if for no other reason than we’ve never done this before, and even though it doesn’t look that bad, what standards are we really judging this by?

So, we went for it.  Tim was at the helm, and I was drinking rum.  No, not really, I was on the bow, and I’m not kidding, we were through the pass in about 2 seconds.  We had about a 2-3 knot current with us, so we just zipped right through.  Piece of cake.  Tim was right.  (He doesn’t read these essays, so don’t tell him I said that.)  Our drama didn’t start until we were inside the pass, and we saw black clouds looming and we checked the radar and could see a huge squall approaching us from across the lagoon.  I was seriously worried about lack of sunlight and our ability to see the coral heads as we tried to cross the lagoon, but we would deal with that after the giant squall passed over us.  So, we held position just inside the pass, in amongst about 3 coral heads, charted luckily, for about 20 minutes as we sustained pouring rain and 20+ knot winds.  It seemed like it would never end, but when it did, it did so rather abruptly, and the winds died and the sky cleared up and we suddenly had fantastic overhead sunshine, and the bombies were lighting up with the sun’s reflection.  Before arriving, I was actually more nervous about navigating the coral heads once inside the lagoon than I was about the pass entrance.  For some reason I was picturing us having to go like a half a knot with one of us on the bow giving quick directions to go this way then that way through a narrow winding lane of clear water surrounded by millions of coral heads.  I laughed at myself when we got there.  The coral heads were large and easily visible with lots of room, in fact Tim even used the autopilot and just changed 10 deg this or that way well in advance of a bombie that would be visible a half mile away.  So, Tim made a joke that we had mastered the first two dangers of the fire swamp (Princess Bride reference for any losers who didn’t get it), and we all wondered what the third might be.  We found it soon enough.  It was the underwater lines and bouys of the pearl farm, and our route across the lagoon had us going right through it and we didn’t notice until it was too late.  The boys and I had to be even more diligent on the bow and yell if we thought a line was going to be too shallow so Tim could put the engines in neutral as we skidded over it.  We never wrapped a prop or anything, but it seemed to take forever to get through it all.

We had picked out an anchorage from the Soggy Paws Compendium, and when we arrived, it was jaw droppingly brilliant.  It was out of a postcard or a professional photograph, not a place that you actually get to visit in real life.  There was a white sandy beach, palm trees swaying, and crystal-clear turquoise water that beckoned you for a swim.  We were totally protected from the ocean swell bashing against the other side of the reef, and the low lying motu and palms also provided protection from the wind, so the closer you got to shore, the glassier and clearer the water was.  And there was absolutely no one else there.  Certainly not in this anchorage, and since no one was on AIS and no one answered our VHF call, it’s possible we were the only cruising boat in the entire lagoon.  It was amazing.  We were sitting in a stereotypical remote tropical paradise with a slight breeze and water lapping on the swim step. The weather was a bit cooler than The Marquesas, having dropped so many degrees in latitude.  Tim and I spent the evening on the net (Exodus foredeck) after sundown, and I was actually a bit chilled, a sensation I hadn’t experience since way back in San Felipe in October.  The solitude lasted only one night, but that’s OK, we were joined by the rest of our “clan” Lady Carolina, True Blue V, and Eleutheria.  We had a potluck on Exodus the first night after everyone arrived, and all the guys went stumbling around the motu hunting coconut crabs.  Steve from Lady Carolina did a write up on this, which a must read and follows down below.

Speaking of Lady Carolina, having arrived the following day, earlier in the morning, than we did, their experience coming through the pass was, well, a bit different than ours.  They arrived in the morning, near a slack tide, with the current flowing out of the lagoon.  So, they went for it, and it was like treading water.  Carolina said at one point she was pretty sure they were going backwards.  The boat didn’t point where they wanted, and it was a pretty stressful operation.  Then those showoffs on True Blue V passed them on the left.  Damn Aussies.  Now, Lady Carolina was following the path down the middle of the pass, just as we had done, and it had worked pretty well for us.  But since we were going in on an incoming current, our experience was like riding the rapids in, while since they had an outgoing current, they had those rapids against them.  True Blue V stayed further to the outside, where they ran the risk of being in shallower water, but where they also enjoyed less current flowing against them.  Anyway, obviously Lady Carolina made it through the pass and across the lagoon in order for Steve to go hunting for coconut crabs. 

One of my favorite activities in this anchorage was paddle boarding, as long as I stayed between Exodus and the motu in front of us.  The wind protection was excellent, and the water was glassy and there were tons of coral teeming with fish life scattered around in shallow water, so that paddling around wasn’t that different from snorkeling around.  It was serene to the point of almost being meditative.  Then one morning I ventured a little too far south out of the wind shade of the coconut palms and towards a little gap in the atoll, a “mini-pass,” if you will.  The current must have been flowing in that mini pass, because within single digit seconds I was blown well into the lagoon, well behind Lady Carolina, who, as usual, was anchored well behind us.  The paddle back to the anchorage was the most difficult paddle I’ve ever had.  More difficult than paddling upwind in a squall at Las Rocas (Mexico, northern Sea of Cortez) to be sure.  I had to get down on my knees to decrease my windage and increase my paddling moment arm.  Once back in the anchorage it was glassy and serene again, so I could go back to my meditation pretending I didn’t really know how ugly it was out there.

The snorkeling in Raroia was most excellent.  Especially after spending so much time in the black sand and murky water of The Marquesas.  Tim and Steve (Lady Carolina) did some advanced scouting to find the best snorkeling spots for the rest of us, and they did not disappoint.  They found a little mini pass, further south than the one that almost swept me out in the middle of the lagoon on my paddle board, and it made for really fun snorkeling.  You could ride the little rapids down the middle and jet past all kinds of fish and coral, and then swim around and do it all over again.  Here is where I swam with sharks for the first time.  It’s starts out a bit unnerving, but you learn right away that these reef sharks are more afraid of you than you are of them.  As long as you don’t have a bleeding, gaping wound, and as long as you don’t have a wounded, struggling fish, they will totally leave you alone.  They swim around simply ignoring you.  On this dive, there were only about 3-4 at a time and they were the black-tipped reef variety, only about 3 feet long, so it didn’t take long for us to ignore them just like they were ignoring us. 

Next up on the snorkeling docket, we officially achieved snorkeling bliss.  We snorkeled on and around one of the bombies and it was the most amazing snorkeling I had ever done.  Water clarity was infinity. (OK, I’m exaggerating, but in a relative sense compared to Mexico, it may as well have been infinity.)  There was both soft and hard coral and thousands of aquarium type fish.  My favorite part were the giant clams with colorful wavy “lips” kind of like in a cartoon.  I just kept swimming laps around the coral head, and I was actually the last one out of the water and back in the dinghy, and that just never happens.  I’m usually the first to get cold or bored or both.

And last but not least, the winds died down just a hair and we were able to move back over to the other side of the atoll in order to do some pass diving.  The skies were a bit clouded over for our passage across, which made it a little nerve racking.  The sun would be out, and you could see every bombie clearly in your path, and then the sun would hide and the bombies would simply disappear.  We also had more pearl farm buoys to contend with, but somehow, we made it all the way across with very little drama.  We thought we would anchor near the town, but when we got there, we found the anchorage pretty deep and close to shore, so we were just a bit concerned about swing radius and being on a lee shore.  Also, it would still be a bit of dinghy ride to the pass, so we opted to go see if there were any better anchor spots closer to the pass.  There weren’t.  We ended up anchored on small coral pinnacles (Lady Carolina on one, Exodus on another.)  Tim dove in and inspected before we dropped anchor, and then he got back in the water when we anchored so he could place the anchor exactly where he wanted it.  This is a good example of how Alex and Brenden make us *not* a shorthanded crew, because we never could have done such a precision anchoring job without them.  The wind blew about 15 knots steady the whole time we were anchored there, and since we had no protection from wind or fetch from across atoll, so was a bit bouncy.  But the location was great for staging for the pass dives, of which there were numerous.  I only went on one of them, and wow, what an experience.   We arrived at the pass in the dinghies pretty much right at slack tide, and once the current started up again (flowing into the atoll) we drove outside the pass, jumped in the water (each having our own line tied to the dingy), and rode the incoming tide all the way in.  The visibility was amazing, and we saw all kinds of sea life.  I was especially captivated by all the sharks.  Not because I was afraid, but just because I’d never been so near so many at one time.  I saw my first white tipped ones and even a nurse shark.  We did this three times, and I have to say Tim and the boys enjoyed the dive WAY more than I did, since they dive deeper and can hold their breath longer.  But I had a lot of fun too, up until the end of each ride when we were in standing waves getting tossed around like a mixed salad.  Anyway, it’s definitely one of those not to be missed experiences, and the boys went several more times, once even with the hookah. 

Overall, Raroia was an excellent introduction to The Tuamotus.  There were so many options of where to go first, but I think we nailed the decision and ended up in a place that had the best of everything.  My only regret is that we didn’t visit the small village there, and the only downside of the whole place was the flies.  I’m not kidding, they were everywhere, and they were numerous.  It’s like nature’s cruel joke, and idyllic tropical paradise, but we can’t make it too nice, so let’s add flies.

Our pass exit was just as easy as the entrance.  We rode a dropping tide, so we had the current in our favor again, and we were out in seconds.  I even drove Exodus this time.