On the motu near Aitutaki

Only one way to get there. By dinghy over shallow coral reefs

You have to walk in the last 100 yards or so. Too shallow for the motors/props

We got to see live giant clams

Some great snorkeling

Even some big fish

Lots of fun

That’s the name of the Motu that we dinghied to with Orcinius and Sockdolager today to go snorkeling. There’s a marine preserve there, so we weaved our way through the bommies (i.e. coral mounds) for an hour to get there. But was it worth it! The water was turquoise and warm and the snorkeling was great. But more fun was the camaraderie of three couples tripping across the waters in their silly dinghies out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. At several points on the way, the water got shallow and we just got out and walked the dinghies. Finally we found the marine preserve area and put anchors in the sand in about three feet of water right on the edge of the reef. We were then able to walk a few feet over and slide into the deeper water where we were met by giant clams! They could easily grab your whole leg they were so big. Beautiful too. So many colors. I swam over and poked one just to see if it would close all the way. It didn’t fall for my bluff. It flinched a little but then realized it could just about swallow me whole and that was that. We finished the dinghy part of the day with a picnic lunch with our three dinghies tied together and anchored over the sand several hundred yards off the island in the middle of the lagoon. Nothing but clear, ice blue water all around. Simply wonderful!

Since we got up at 0700 to get started on the day, we were done snorkeling by 1300 or so. This gave us time to go motor scootering some more. Oh, I haven’t mentioned that the best mode of transportation on the island is a motor scooter and we rented one! $25/day. What a bargain! There are not a lot of roads here and half of them are dirt anyway, so scooters are the favored mode of transport. Very few cars, lots of scooters. We have been having a blast scootering around the island on the main road and off road as well. You see so much more on a scooter than when you rent a car. So scooter some more we did.

As much as we could easily spend a month here, having a fairly deep draft boat, we have to live by the tides. Unfortunately tomorrow is the last day we can leave here in the daylight for at least two more weeks. So, regrettably tomorrow we’re heading out. Ann and I have both commented how easy it would be to just stay here, period. It’s such a relaxing place. I imagine this may be what Hawaii might have been like 100 years ago. The people are unbelievably friendly and while there are some resorts, they are very small and tucked away so you don’t even notice them. There are no high rises and locals claim there is no crime. You literally cannot pass someone on the street without saying, “hello”, even on a motorbike. Since I am not proficient enough yet to take a hand off the handlebar to wave, I have a head nod that says “hi” that seems to be working as everyone who passes us when I nod either waves or nods back. And I mean everyone. Even in cars. You just can’t pass without saying “hi” or waving or in my case a head nod.

So I’ll end this in the spirit of Aitutaki and say; “Hi, how are ya?!”

Position: 18 degrees, 51 minutes south; 159 degrees, 48 minutes west

Bummer. Aground and it was high tide in the middle of the channel. We should have had several feet under the keel

The channel is very narrow

Finally inside the reef, we tied up to Orcinius with Sockdologer on the other side. Orcinius had an anchor out and was stern tied to the trees

We were ready for it and yes, it happened. We ran aground coming in the very narrow and very shallow pass into Aitutaki.

There was a four knot ebb right at the ocean and I had Charisma gunned up but we were only making 3 knots over the ground. Then after 50 yards, the current dropped and we brought the RPMs down to a slower level, but we were still doing about 4 knots when we felt the bump, bump-at which point I said something like; “oh darn it!” and we took a really big bump-Charisma went bow down as the aft part of the keel hit really hard and we just stopped. Totally. Completely.

We were now in the middle (if you could say such a tiny channel even has a middle-it felt barely wide enough for us to fit through) of the pass and hard on the sand. Not moving. Blocking the pass. Didn’t really matter since no-one else was going to use it, we were the only non-local boat in that whole day. Other than us, only the fisherman used the pass and they were in little motor boats that drew about 2 feet. We draw 5’8″ before a ton of gear (literally) so loaded down, I’m guessing we actually draw 6′.

Six feet should have been OK, but I forgot to read some of the fine print of the chart book as follows: “…hug the sticks…”, (channel markers are sticks in the sand), “…close on to the north side EXCEPT around the wreck where you should stay out a little further…” . I stayed with the hug the sticks part and didn’t notice the “EXCEPT” part. So while hugging the sticks close on to the north side of the channel, we basically high centered Charisma on the sand. We hit so hard the alarm went off on the fluxgate compass (more on that below) since it couldn’t comprehend why we stopped so fast.

Once it became obvious we were hard aground I went through my usual litany of swear words to describe such a situation properly to Jesus Christ, then relented and quickly started taking action to remedy the situation. I was worried about two things: The current was going at right angles to the pass, so if we drifted loose we could really get in trouble by drifting onto the hard and very shallow coral that lined the sides of the pass and be in much more serious trouble. We only had 30 minutes before max high tide. We had to work fast and get loose by then, otherwise we’d spend the next 12 hours enjoying the view as the tide cycled back to where we’d have enough water to lift us off. Fortunately we had Orcinius on the radio. They got here a couple days before us and being a catamaran, they didn’t draw as much and thus were able to get in easier and were med-moored to a palm tree in the tidal basin. “Orcinius, we’re aground” was our simple message. Their response; “We’re on our way out in the dinghy”.

Everyone knows about this pass. Everyone knows it’s rumored to be only six feet deep, but that’s at mean low tide, so there should have been enough water for us at high tide. Anyway, we were all ready for the drill. While John and Lisa from Orcinius were heading out to help us in their dinghy, we set our plan in motion. We were aground with the shallow water on our port side, so we had to “tip” our keel to starboard to reduce the depth and pivot it away from the shallow water. We quickly put the boom over to the port side and Ann worked to set the preventer to hold it 90 degrees to the boat. While she was setting up the boom, I dashed to the foredeck and untied the dinghy (which was deflated and folded into its bag and lashed to the deck) and moved it to the port side. We also had two 5 gallon water jugs on the starboard side that I unlashed and moved to port. Just this moved about 200 pounds from one side of Charisma over to port. Then I put Ann on the bowsprit to try and drop the bow and lift the deep part of the keel while I gunned the engine. No joy. We’re still hard and fast.

At about this point, John and Lisa came on the scene. We started out with both of them hanging off the boom from their dinghy hoping to pull Charisma further over to port. I again gunned the engine. We weren’t moving, but when I moved the wheel from one side to the other, Charisma would pivot so I knew we were just sitting on the lowest part of the keel and not too far from coming off. The problem at this point was ME. Not literally, but my weight in the cockpit steering the boat was keeping the keel firmly in the sand. OK, so now we’ll try this: Ann and Bob on the bowsprit waaay out in front of the bow. John hanging on the boom 10 feet to port making a pretty effective lever-arm and Lisa (who weighs almost nothing as far as we can tell) steering. Back to full power, turn the wheel left then right, then left again-I can see Charisma pivoting-I shout; “MORE POWER”and she turns it up. We can see sand boiling up from the stern as the big propeller is pushing tons of water and then…inch by inch, I think I can see we’re moving. Yes, we’re moving. Slowly at first, then it’s clear we’re sliding off the sand. Yay! We’re free!

John relaxed off the boom and headed back in to prepare for us to side-tie to Orcinius and Lisa stayed on for the ride in. The rest of the way was anti-climax, but still amazingly tight. Even the turning basin inside was barely big enough for Charisma to turn without doing a “back and fill”. In the mean time “Saint John” had set up everything on Orcinius so we didn’t have to drop an anchor and med-moor. We would just tie up to Orcinius who already had an anchor out the bow and the stern tied to a coconut palm tree. Yes, that’s how small this harbor is. You have such little room, you are tying the stern to trees to keep from swinging into the coral as wind and current change.

It doesn’t matter too much anyway-at anything but high tide, we actually sit on the bottom here in the anchorage. It was a little unnerving last night as we could hear and feel Charisma settle into the mud as the tide went out. We’re probably about a foot in the mud at low tide and just barely floating at high tide.

I mentioned an alarm went off in the electronics right as we ran aground. It was a different one than I’d ever heard and I was busy, so told Ann to just turn it off and come back up above deck. Turns out the fluxgate compass doesn’t like sudden stops. What the heck’s a flux gate compass you ask? Don’t ask, but suffice it to say it’s a gyro type compass that provides the synchronization between radar and GPS so the two systems can talk with each other and show up together on the chart plotter. After we got in and settled down after our entertaining entrance, I noticed the error message and the fact that the GPS/Radar overlay no longer worked. Crap! I don’t know how to fix that stuff! Once again, out come the binders of manuals and after some reading I found the answer. “Turn the power off and then on again”. I wouldn’t have been surprised if they had added the word; “crisply”. In other words, reboot the system. I did that and it now works. Yay! Crisis averted.

OK, so that’s our yesterday. Today, we rented motorbikes (actually one, we ride together) and motored around the island. What a blast! No traffic and scooting around on both two lane asphalt and dirt roads. Really fun! Also, the people here are amazing/incredible. We have decided that no matter what the reality, we have decided “Aitutaki” means; “really nice, friendly people”. And everyone speaks English! But more on these last topics tomorrow. It’s time for bed for now. Motorbilkes, flux-gate fixes and dinner and a Polynesian dance show with Orcininus have exhausted us for now.

See you tomorrow.

Landfall!

We made landfall today around noon. Definitely not the most graceful entry we’ve made into a new spot. In fact, it was downright ungraceful, but we’re very tired and need to get some sleep. More tomorrow.

Position: 18 degrees, 29 minutes south; 158 minutes, 34 degrees west (125 mile day)

We expect landfall tomorrow morning IF the wind holds which is questionable. It’s gone light now so whereas all the bouncing around the last couple days was from the wind and big waves, now it’s because of the light wind. Today was a gorgeous day. The wind dropped to 14 knots and the waves down to 2 meters. We put the main up and set the jib out on the pole and ran wing and wing all day. It was the kind of day that is why we love cruising. The wind has dropped to about 6 knots now so we are eking out about 3-4 knots boatspeed. We have to get to Aitutaki by noon because that is high tide so if the wind completely drops out we’ll have to motor-sail.

Not too much else to update. Dinner was Mahi II. I sautéed some veggies that were about to go bad (an eggplant and a bell pepper) with an onion, threw it in leftover rice and seared the mahi on the cast iron pan with some spices. Yum. Also, we had the ceviche on crackers for lunch. Can you eat too much fish? I don’t think so….

That’s about it for today. Stay tuned for our update of our attempt at the pass at Aitutaki.

P.S. To JHam: Jerry-we do swab the deck, but with a brush. There’s no room on board for a swab although I used to swab the decks on a schooner I crewed on when I was in my teens. Ann swabbed, er, brushed the deck after we caught the Mahi. Fish scales everywhere although I’m getting much better about not spraying blood all over the place. In fact, these days, there’s very little blood when I gut and fillet the fish just lots of swearing as the boat rolls and I have to hang on to fish, knife and self. At least I no longer have to change my clothes and take a shower (bucket bath) after catching a fish. 🙂 You should have seen some of the early attempts. Psycho!

Position: 17 degrees, 48 minutes south; 156 degrees, 31 minutes west (138 mile day)

Ahhh, Mahi

Short post as it’s rockin’ and rollin’ and very hard to type.

We caught a Mahi just after lunch today, so we had fresh Mahi Mahi, rice and salad for dinner. (yay!) It was delicious. The fish also provided 5 additional dinners for two, 1/2 pound of ceviche that I made this afternoon and a pound of extra bits for chowder. Yum.

More blue water and blue skies with some clouds along with 10 foot seas and 15-20 knot winds. A good day, but we’re almost straight downwind which makes it rolly in these big waves. Wilson is doing an amazing job steering. We have only tweaked it when we reef the jib in or out-which is once or twice a day-and after three days, it’s steering us within five miles of the rhumb line course.

It’s beautiful out here even at night when the full moon is illuminating everything.

OK, time for bed. It’s Ann’s watch from 1000 to 0200.

By the way; to our family who are now in Aptos on vacation-Ann made ginger cookies for you all, but we can’t figure how to deliver them, so we’ll have to eat them. Sorry, she’ll make more later.

Position: 17 degrees, 08 minutes south; 154 degrees, 04 minutes west (about 130 miles last 24 hours) Sailing this afternoon, watching wave after wave after wave and nothing but blue water as far as I could see, I was struck by how “out there” we really are. We just left a small island, for an even smaller island some 500 miles away where the only entrance into the lagoon is narrow and shallow-maybe too shallow for us to fit. Just thinking.

I’m finally over my almost mal de mer. I didn’t feel very good for most of the first 18 hours of the trip. First touch of seasickness I’ve had in years. But got my sea legs back now.

Yesterday evening a potentially ominous issue came up. Just before sundown I glanced at the solar panel readout and it was dead. Not working. No light. Uh oh! Solar is one of our major sources of energy and it would be very bad if they panels quit working. It was too rough and I didn’t feel good enough to start rooting around in the electronics closet so I decided I’d put off looking at it until morning. Once the sun came up, I consulted the manuals and they said that; “a spike in power can cause the microprocessor to turn off. Disconnect all power and then reconnect, crisply”. Crisply??! Oh well, worth a shot. There is a fuse in the battery compartment under the bed in the quarterberth that delivers the solar power to the battery. I figured I could check it in case that was the problem and at the same time disconnect and reconnect it “crisply” and see if that would work. OK, found it, pulled it, it broke. Now I have to get the pieces of the fuse out of the inline holder (while still feeling a bit poorly inside the rolling boat). I dug them out-even had an extra fuse holder but didn’t feel like dealing with it so used the existing one for now. Found an appropriate fuse, inserted it crisply and voila! The panels came back online. Yay.

The rest of today has been pretty typical passage-making. Eat, sleep, read, enjoy the view. The evening radio nets start in an hour so we’ll be able to see where our various friends are and maybe talk with them. Last night Dave from Camanoe (our friend from Mexico who went to Hawaii when we left for the Marquesas) was on and called us when the net controller asked if there was any “traffic” for Charisma. Alas, his signal was pretty light and we couldn’t find a frequency so just said; “Hi”. Maybe we’ll be able to have a longer conversation tonight. Since he’s still in Hawaii it’s a long way and the ionosphere has to be just right to bounce the signal all the way down here.

So, there you have it. About three days to go (hopefully) to our next island. Position: 17 degrees, 08 minutes south; 154 degrees, 04 minutes west (about 130 miles last 24 hours) Sailing this afternoon, watching wave after wave after wave and nothing but blue water as far as I could see, I was struck by how “out there” we really are. We just left a small island, for an even smaller island some 500 miles away where the only entrance into the lagoon is narrow and shallow-maybe too shallow for us to fit. Just thinking.

I’m finally over my almost mal de mer. I didn’t feel very good for most of the first 18 hours of the trip. First touch of seasickness I’ve had in years. But got my sea legs back now.

Yesterday evening a potentially ominous issue came up. Just before sundown I glanced at the solar panel readout and it was dead. Not working. No light. Uh oh! Solar is one of our major sources of energy and it would be very bad if they panels quit working. It was too rough and I didn’t feel good enough to start rooting around in the electronics closet so I decided I’d put off looking at it until morning. Once the sun came up, I consulted the manuals and they said that; “a spike in power can cause the microprocessor to turn off. Disconnect all power and then reconnect, crisply”. Crisply??! Oh well, worth a shot. There is a fuse in the battery compartment under the bed in the quarterberth that delivers the solar power to the battery. I figured I could check it in case that was the problem and at the same time disconnect and reconnect it “crisply” and see if that would work. OK, found it, pulled it, it broke. Now I have to get the pieces of the fuse out of the inline holder (while still feeling a bit poorly inside the rolling boat). I dug them out-even had an extra fuse holder but didn’t feel like dealing with it so used the existing one for now. Found an appropriate fuse, inserted it crisply and voila! The panels came back online. Yay.

The rest of today has been pretty typical passage-making. Eat, sleep, read, enjoy the view. The evening radio nets start in an hour so we’ll be able to see where our various friends are and maybe talk with them. Last night Dave from Camanoe (our friend from Mexico who went to Hawaii when we left for the Marquesas) was on and called us when the net controller asked if there was any “traffic” for Charisma. Alas, his signal was pretty light and we couldn’t find a frequency so just said; “Hi”. Maybe we’ll be able to have a longer conversation tonight. Since he’s still in Hawaii it’s a long way and the ionosphere has to be just right to bounce the signal all the way down here.

So, there you have it. About three days to go (hopefully) to our next island.

Position: 16 degrees, 37 minutes south; 152 degrees, 18 minutes west

Yup, we’re finally out of French Polynesia. I took the French flag and the Polynesian courtesy flags down today for the first time in three months. The next flags to go up will be the yellow “Q” flag and the Cook Islands flag as we enter the Cooks. Hopefully that will be in about 3.5 days at Aitutaki. I say ‘hopefully’ because it’s a tricky entrance. There’s a very narrow cut through the coral reef of something like 30 feet and the depth is approximately 6 feet. We draw 5 feet, 8 inches, so it will be close. Fortunately high tide is at 1200, so we’ll have the sun overhead to help us see the bottom. It’s a +0.68 meter tide so that will give a little extra room. Once inside though, the lagoon is very small, so if there are many boats there, we won’t have room to anchor. Lots of “ifs”. The last “if” is if we can’t get in, we’ll keep on going another couple hundred miles to our next stop at Palmerston Island.

It’s bumpy bouncy again, so this will be short as I don’t have my sea legs yet and it’s not easy to type and not get seasick, LOL.

This moonrise tonight was almost surreal. It was a full moon and came out of the clouds above Bora Bora. Just amazing. Breathtaking really. It was the biggest moon I’ve ever seen and it was red. Amazing. A great way to start another leg of the voyage.

It’s blowing about 16 gusting to 20, the seas are about 4 feet and we’re doing about 6 knots with just the jib rolled about 40%. The wind should increase some in the next day or so then ease as we approach our destination. We checked in on the Seafarers Net, which is a Pacific-wide Ham net dedicated to keeping track of boats who wish to be followed. Good safety net. If you google searfarers net, or possibly go to www.pacseanet.com you can find the report that shows where we are. I think there are two Charismas, so we go by Charisma San Francisco.

That’s it for now, I need some air. See you tomorrow.

Easy day today. We’re pretty sore and stiff from yesterday’s climb so decided not to leave today, but will go tomorrow. There’s a good weather window for the next day or two with modest winds, then they turn into 20+ knots and 3.5 meter seas, but all downwind and easing as we go west, so we’ll be heading into the better weather and leaving the stronger stuff here. About five other boats are heading out tomorrow as well. The folks who are staying here are going to get a strong blow.

So…we dinghied over to the store, and bought some supplies. Ann did some laundry and pre-made a pasta salad to have available for our trip and I uploaded pictures to the blog and Facebook and that’s about it for today. Had a nice time with ShantiAna and Bright Angel with cocktails on the deck outside Bora Bora YC, then dinner.

Slow, easy day, but our last day for a while in civilization. From here it’s nothing but very small islands for 800 or so miles then Tonga. I think the biggest one has a population of 200 and the small one has about 50 people. Should be interesting.