There was ciguatara ( nasty illness you can get from some fish) in the lagoon, so spearfishing was not on the menu,
and despite several attempts at catching lobsters on the reef, we had come up empty handed.
The hunt part was still exciting though...
We waited until dark, then everyone strapped on headlamps and walked the razor sharp reefs at night looking for lobsters but we didn't see a single one.
There were plenty of pissed off Morays lurking in every nook and cranny, just waiting to bite your toes- but that was it.
There were conchs in the bay but the effort required to get their meat out ( even though it is super yummy) just wasn't worth the calories it burned, to do it more than once.
Muktuk made a meal out of gathering snails off the beach and sautéing them in butter and garlic but my crew was less enthusiastic about that as a meal plan.
We made do, without too much suffering ,
there were calzones and pizzas, cooked on a bonfire, tons of lentils in every conceivable form,
Hunter baked cookies and even made Indian flatbread all by herself,
but eventually, the basic human desire for "fresh meat" drove us to admit it was time to move on.
That...and we ran out of wine.
(there was also, a deep and persistent craving for something really cold, sweet and creamy, that crept into our minds and grabbed hold of us like a sumo wrestler)
We had learned and experienced many new things on our first atoll, it will be forever in our hearts and we have become die hard fans of atoll cruising- despite it taking a hell of a lot of pluck to get yourself and your boat all the way out to one-
they are soooo worth the effort.
On Tehuana we had our first "drift dive",
Well, it was actually a snorkel but it was still a thrilling new experience for us...and a practice run for getting to do it with our scuba gear, the next time.
Drift diving, is when you use the incoming tide to transport you back into the lagoon.
Getting the timing right is of primo importance because if that current isn't going IN- you can be swept out to sea.
So, you know, it's really key, getting that bit right.
Which we did, of course.
Otherwise I would be writing you this from Tahiiti-having floated there in my wetsuit.
The whole thing starts with fighting your puny, underpowered, dingy up through the insane, roilling current,
nosing your way out into the entrance of the pass, where the water is deep and full of predators...
Then, as the ocean hurtles past you ( at an intense speed as it goes from thousands of feet down and squeezes itself into the narrow entrance, moving at several knots),
you quickly put on your masks and gear, drag some lines off the dingy, put the engine in neutral...
and jump overboard!
"What exactly is the plan, here?"
I asked Jon over Hunter's, tearful, wailing.
(she was already crying, because to her, it looked like we were headed straight for the breaking waves on the outer reef)
Jon did his best to reassure us.
"I already checked it out. It's perfectly safe. We climb in and we hang on and we just drift...it's supposed to be FUN".
"Yeah!" said Kai, "It's awesome!",
Then he and Jon dropped over the side into the swirling rapids... to show us how we weren't going to die.
( I admit that i totally found this whole scene a teeny bit intimidating the first time around and might of also started to cry a bit and question my gentle husband rather sternly about weather or not this was a sane idea at all...but it was one of those "TRUST" moments in my life and so i just went with it. Once l got in that water and had my first look at what was down there, everything dissolved into squeals of pure glee )
The "trust" thing is key, in these situations.
I had one kid in the water already and the other looking over at her brother with curiosity now,
(overpowering her fear of the breakers)
"What do you think?
I asked little Hunter, who moments before had been crying and white as a ghost.
She spat in her mask and rubbed it around.
"Let's do this thing" she said and then flipped into the water, holding on to the dingy painter-line.
What could I do, but follow her?
It looks really crazy all around you on the surface,
but once you slide into that water, all the fear melts away and all there is, is total, AWESOMENESS.
You literally FLY along in the current, towing the boat behind you. The thing is, everything in the outer ocean is ALSO coming in along with you...
feeding on all the nutrients in the small pass,
Fish, sharks, mata rays, eagle rays, dolphin, all swimming along with you on the 5 knot current.
We weren't actually so lucky as to see any sharks or mantas the day we went ( not a problem!) but the drift itself and the 100 foot visibility, as you sail over the coral heads and thousands of schools of fish...
was indescribably beautiful.
Of COURSE, Kai and Jon immediately let go of the line that they promised to hang onto and free dove up and down forty feet below us, keeping pace with the dingy the whole time.
It was beautiful to watch them, and soon enough Hunter and I were taking our own mini-dives ( but not without the rope!) after them.
It was like the world's coolest, natural amusement park ride because it is really, really FAST.
The whole thing takes about five minutes and then you climb back in the dingy ( that has been following you on its leash)
and race back out and do it again..and again...and again....
as many times as you can, before the tide gets anywhere near changing.
Later that afternoon, we had a great scuba dive with the kids on a large coral head near the boat.
Kai dropped down before the rest of us ( in thirty feet) to check the anchor and had his first all-by-himself shark encounter...
The shark was spooked by the time we got to the bottom and all Jon and Hunter and I saw of it, was his silhouette slinking away into deeper water. Kai was blurbing away happily, making shark signs with his hand signals and smiling. Then, he pointed to a huge, giant barracuda, hovering a few feet away from him.
The big fish, had his creepy old mouth full of razor sharp teeth, hanging slightly open, it made him look like some sort of maniacal idiot.
I gave the big brute one of my top-drawer, mommy stink-eye , "back away from my kid" looks and the fish swam further away-to Kai's endless disappointment.
The rest of the dive, was filled with such incredible beauty it's impossible to do it justice on the page.
Unfortunately, I'm still learning how to use my under water camera, so the pics won't do it yet, either!
Purple corals and fish of every color and size- we literally checked off about fifty new species in our fish identification book when we got back to the boat.
Hunter did great on her little tank and had all kinds of fun, hanging onto her daddy's hand as they toured the coral heads she was so happy with herself to be "making bubbles" again.
We had an absolute ball...
and could have easily stayed two more weeks,
but it was time to put some "meat" back on the table and that pesky "water" issue was starting to become a concern, as there had been absolutely no rain, whatsoever.
After ten amazing days, we finally untangled our hook from the coral heads of Tehuna
(yes, its a pain in the ass, but you do get used to it)
and under a nearly full moon,
we headed back out the pass and onto Fakarava.
Full moon, calm seas, clear skies...good wind?
Wow. Yes, please!
The overnight trip to Fakrava was the most excellent night sailing we have ever done, we arrived bang on time for slack tide in the South Fakarava pass the next morning but the only bummer was...
just as we approached the atoll, we caught and lost! an absolutely MASSIVE, like at least 40 pound, Dorado.
So much for fresh meat.
We actually saw him coming at the boat, swimming on the surface, he looked like an actual dolphin he was so big.
'Oh! My! Oh, Oh. Oh!!!"
I said, jumping up and down and pointing, as he came rushing over the waves at our boat.
"Please, come on, hit our line..." prayed Jon out loud.
BAM! ZING! ZOOM!
The biggest fish we ever hooked up was jumping out of the water and on our line...
which promptly, snapped.
Our unhappy crew watched weeks worth of fresh fish meals swim away.
Hunger certainly heightens the agony of defeat.
Lucky for us, the always amazing Muktuk had left before us and landed a 75 pound yellowfin on THEIR trip to Fakarava...
so we got to bum about 10 pounds of fresh fish off of them.
(that's like 250.00 worth of Tuna for all y'all who buy their sashimi grade fish in stores!)
We had big plans about scuba diving in the fabled South Pass of Fakarava but unfortunately, the perfect winds changed the second we entered the atoll and a reinforced Trade winds came in from the east, making the pass untenable for our little dingy.
There was nothing to do but change plans and head for the North pass where we could hopefully re-provision before heading to the next atoll where there is also superb visibility and excellent diving.
We said goodbye to Muktuk, who would spend a few more weeks in South Fakarava and hope to meet them "further up they way" which is cruiser speak for "Whenever, wherever... hope to see you again!"
Pura Vida nosed her way up the eastern side of the island, in an easterly blow, which meant we had wind but were perfectly protected from fetch.
It was like sailing is in your best, most perfect, dream of this sailing thing...
Blue sky, FLAT water and flying along under full sail at 7 knots! Nothing to do but smile and wish everyone we know and love could have been with us that day.
Thanks to Mutuk, we had plenty of fresh sashimi on hand and seared Tuna steaks that night and Tuna sushi rolls for breakfast.
We didn't go hungry, which was fortunate, because the only store in the North anchorage was closed when we arrived... due to the only power generator on the island blowing up!
The other thing we discovered, other than there was no store to re-provision from, was that we had also totally run out of water.
We found this out just after we put our anchor down.
BOTH tanks had gone completely dry, even though Jon had checked the forty gallon spare three days before and it was full.
(this was a real "oh shit" moment for us, as it could have been life threatening if we were in different circumstances)
Unbeknownst to us and after three years of living aboard...
the FOOT PUMP on the fresh water tap ( which we have been using instead of the water pressure, to keep us in high conservation mode) drains off of the SPARE tank-even if the valve is not turned to SPARE tank. In other words, we ran out of water four days earlier than expected...
which is a super scary feeling.
The good news, is it happened near a town
(and this is the only town for two hundred miles).
The bad news, is, it happened in a town with very little available fresh water.
In fact, the only place you can get water at all, is from the municipal cistern, which is a rather long dingy ride and then a walk from the boat.
Also, there is no water pressure, so we have to fill our two 5 gallon jerry cans by gravity...'which means it takes exactly one hour ( and considerable humping) to get ten gallons of fresh water into our tanks.
Jon lugged fifty gallons aboard before the locals started looking at him funny-it is everyones only source of water after all.
We decided to call it quits for the day and try one last time to fix our ancient water maker.
In case you were wondering why we don't just get a NEW water maker (mom!),
water makers cost about 6,000 US dollars.
It's very much a fingers crossed and pray for rain kind of deal for us now-a-days.
So it goes, in paradise!
Our current plan, at this moment, is to continue to forage as much fresh water as we can, without depriving the locals of their own reserves, post some blogs and photos, at least the internet seems to work, praise Jah-Jah...
Then we'll set sail for the next atoll on our list of diver's paradises...
sometime in the next few days.
This is all assuming that the store here eventually opens and sells us wine and ice cream.
Otherwise all bets are off.
We will be re-routing our plans.
I can go a long, long, way out here,
having not enough water to bathe or wash my clothes
(overrated pastimes, really),
I am perfectly adapted to survive on boxed wine and fresh sushi for months at a time...
I can even rock a mad hairdo and not know where we will be tomorrow...
But living without ice cream?
That, I'm not so sure about.
If this store doesn't open soon, Tahiti will certainly jump up on
the list of things that need to happen in the near future...
Tahiti.
Land of beautiful people and plentiful, fresh produce and propane,
potable water that comes from a hose that you simply put in your boat,
A hotel bar, where one might perch on a chair and drink something slushy and cold with an umbrella in it.
And Oh, while i'm having this fantasy, in my current salt-encrusted, sober, half-starved state...
maybe also a department store, with perfumes and shoes (not because i actually need shoes but because seeing lots of pretty shoes gives me a heightened, electrified, buzzing-feeling...or is that my peri-menopoause vitamins? I can never tell, anyway...)
Then, maybe a pedicure, even if half my toe nails have already fallen off, ever since climbing that death-defying mountain in the Marquesas...
There is much to be said for escaping the lure of consumerism and living off the land,
getting back to nature, blending into the 'Om", wandering around paradise in bare feet, sleeping under the stars...
but in the end, not even the lack of WINE is what finally sucks us sailors back towards the vortex of humanity (although booze is high on the list, it can be made out of coconuts, if you're desperate enough)...
No.
When you have finally mastered the art of eating things like hermit crabs and perhaps, you have also gone so far, as to actually forget how much propane you have left in your tank...
Your thoughts will return to the bright lights of civilization,
and the ONE thing you cannot find on the beach or make out of the coconut tree...
Ice cream.
Yum.
