Society Islands

The Society Islands. Their names alone conjure up images of idyllic beauty. Huahine. Raiatea. Tahaa. Bora Bora. Images of rugged green islands rising from azure lagoons surrounded by a line of white surf pounding on a barrier reef. Of palm trees swaying in the trades, white sand beaches, friendly natives, vibrant coral reefs and reef passes bordered with surf. I spent the last two weeks of July enjoying these mythic isles.
On the sun-filled, calm morning of July 17 I picked up anchor and motored out Tahiti’s Taapuna Pass heading west. The plan was to pass by the south shore of Moorea and if there was no wind I would pull in at Haapiti and surf the fun left for a couple days. However as I skirted Moorea’s southern coast, after reeling in my first (and to date only) fish of the Society Islands (a small skipjack), the wind filled in from the east and I decided to push on for Huahine. I was quick to raise the main and kill the engine, and before long the wind was up to 25 knots out of the east. The swells were a bit confused, coming from both the south and northeast, but with a double-reefed main and a partially-furled jib I was making over six knots and was set to arrive in Huahine at dawn. I spent the night in the cockpit keeping one eye on the blustery wind and another on Sand Dollar, a sailboat that remained less than a mile off my starboard side all night long.
At daybreak I entered the Avapehi Pass on Huahine and before long settled in at the island’s main anchorage inside the Avamoa Pass. It was soon obvious that the six foot swell that was in the water was too east for Huahine’s surfspots, so instead I swam ashore and set about exploring the island. Huahine is a quiet, laid-back island filled with welcoming locals who want to keep their home from becoming an obnoxious tourist destination. I passed my time walking along the white sand beaches of the northwest coast, paddling around the lagoon, and surfing small waves at both the Avamoa and Avapehi Pass (with the right swell, something with a lot of west in it, there are two good rights and a fun left between the two passes).
After a couple days of relaxation and exploration on Huahine I was ready to move on, so I picked up anchor and motored over a glassy sea to Tahaa some thirty miles west. Tahaa is Raiatea’s less-famous little sister. Situated just off her north tip, Tahaa and Raiatea share a single barrier reef. Unlike the rest of the Society Islands it is possible to sail all the way around Tahaa inside the reef in the calm and brilliant waters of its lagoon. I entered the lagoon through the narrow Toahotu Pass on the island’s east shore, passing between two small palm-clad motus and emerging into the deep blue waters of the lagoon. I followed a marked channel around the south side of the island leaving the green sandy shallows to port and the rugged island to starboard. One thing I found in the lagoons of the Society Islands is the water is either more than sixty or less than six feet deep. This makes finding a good anchorage difficult, and I spent two full hours scouring Tahaa’s west coast in search of water less than eighty feet deep to anchor in. After poking my nose into Patii Bay I checked the length of Hurepiti Bay and explored the inlet of Tapuamu Bay, never finding a good place to anchor. On my way back down the west coast of the island I took a long look at the PaiPai Pass and realized there wasn’t enough swell for the left to work properly. As the sun sank low in the sky I gave up hope of finding a decent anchorage and picked up a mooring buoy in Apu Bay.
With the engine shut down I opened a beer and watched the sun slip behind the western horizon as a hermaphrodite brig entered Apu Bay under the power of sails alone. In a rare display of seamanship these days the young captain shouted out orders to his crew of paying passengers and eased his 150-foot-plus ship into place, dropped the hook, and let the wind fill the foretopsail and back the ship on the anchor. It was an impressive showing in an age where most sailors of small ships can’t anchor under sail, let alone a big square-rigger. The ship is from New Zealand and apparently sails around the South Pacific carrying paying passengers who are taught how to sail while stopping at the beautiful islands along the way.
I left Tahaa early the next morning, slipping out of the PaiPai Pass where I was quick to shut down the engine and set sail. A light breeze trickled in from the east-northeast, and since there was still no surf I headed for Bora Bora, perhaps the most famously beautiful island in the world. The wind remained light throughout the morning and I sat in the cockpit enjoying the warm sunshine, reading, writing in my journal, and loving the cruising life. After four hours of slow but steady sailing I arrived at Bora Bora’s lone reef pass with an eight knot breeze still trickling in from the east. Perhaps inspired by the display of seamanship the previous night I decided to keep the engine off and sailed my way in the pass. The rugged, somehow familiar peaks of Bora Bora loomed ahead and the light green shallows and dark brown of the reef lingered on either side as Avventura ghosted up the blue pass and approached the Bora Bora Yacht Club. Just before the anchorage I dropped the main, powered my way into 87 feet of water, and dropped the anchor with all 250 feet of chain out.
Once I deceived myself that the boat was safe with less than 3-to-1 scope (as a rule I always set 5-to-1 scope; more in an unprotected or windy anchorage) I launched the dinghy, grabbed my board, and motored out to the pass. While sailing in the pass a local was stand-up paddling into a left breaking off a finger of reef on the south side of the pass, and I was itching to get in the clear blue waters. The wave was a strange sectioning left with a steep takeoff followed by sections where the wave would hit fingers of deep water in the reef and turn to mush only to later become hollow again. The surf was far from world-class, but the setup was hard to beat. I was the only one out and the familiar green form of the island loomed across the lagoon of green and blue water above a beach of white sand. Sitting in the “lineup” it struck me that nowhere else in nature have I seen such vivid colors. The blues of deeper water, the intense green of the sandy shallows, the sharp browns and purples of the coral reef, the motus of blinding white sand capped by green palms swaying in the trades, and the dark green hulk of the island itself with patches of light, exposed rock reflecting the bright sunlight. The colors alone rank Bora Bora among the most beautiful places I’ve ever been. It was easy to see why it is among the most photographed islands on earth. As the sun reached for the sea I returned to Avventura thrilled by another great day of cruising.
July 22nd brought scattered showers and a 25 knot east wind to Bora Bora. The anchorage at the Bora Bora Yacht Club was shielded from the bulk of the wind, and I was determined to spend the day exploring the island. I headed ashore in the early morning and met the manager of the “yacht club.” He told me they rented bikes, and in minutes I was pedaling north along the coast. After a detour inland into a local neighborhood I circumnavigated the island, enjoying the ever-changing vistas across the greens and blues of the lagoon and up at the drastic island peaks. Near the south end of the island I left the bike beside the road and hiked up to a spot overlooking the lagoon on both sides of the island. It was a truly beautiful place and I only wish I had had a digital camera along to post the pictures. Instead I shot a roll of film to be developed whenever it is I return to San Diego.
After completing the 32 km circumnavigation I returned to the yacht club just in time for an impromptu barbeque at the yacht club. The manager insisted I stay and eat, and served me up a massive helping of grilled chicken, sausage, and breadfruit. The grilled breadfruit was delicious and if you ever find yourself unsure of what to do with the strange veggie just throw it on the grill. As I ate conversations were started between the handful of cruising boats whose crews were ashore. It was quite a diverse gathering with a couple Japanese men, two Norwegian couples, a Canadian single-hander, an American single-hander, and the American couple from Katie Lee. I enjoyed the conversation for a while, but after lunch the sun came out and it was simply too nice a day to spend chatting away. I excused myself, stopped at Avventura to get my board, and returned to the reef pass to try my hand at the left once more. The wind was blowing so hard offshore it made trying to turn almost laughable but I had a good time messing around in the small waves.
Monday morning brought a return of sunshine and clear skies and I decided to head for Raiatea. As soon as the anchor was up I raised the main and shut down the engine, sailing away from Bora Bora and continuing southward. After a few hours of sailing to windward I reached the lee of Raiatea. The wind died so I furled the jib and motored in the Rautoanui Pass on the northwest side of the island. Entering the pass I gazed wide-eyed as perfect left tubes peeled off the reef and a dozen locals dropped into barrel after barrel. I headed straight for the nearest anchorage and set the hook in eighty feet of water inside Pupau Bay. As soon as the anchor was set I returned to the pass in my dinghy and paddled out in the perfect six-foot surf. My first wave I dropped in behind the peak, got a nice little tube, and pulled out just before it closed out on the reef. That proved to be my best wave of the day, though a handful of nice little cover-ups followed as I traded off waves with the friendly locals. Only the setting sun was enough to chase me from the surf, and I reluctantly returned to Avventura to spend the night in my own private anchorage.
Rising early the next morning, I was disappointed to find the swell had dropped. After a short but fun morning session in the small waves I dedicated the remainder of the day to boat work including a trip up the mast to replace a burnt-out light bulb as well as complete a few other minor tasks. The boat work spilled over to the morning of July 25 as I dedicated myself to solving the riddle of the broken bow navigation lights. After a couple hours of toil I was able to rewire the lights and get them working once more, and by late morning I headed to a nearby marina to use the internet feeling good about the day. When I checked the weather forecast for the coming week my mood began to change. East to southeast winds were forecast for the entire week, picking up from 17 knots on July 25th till it would be 25 knots from the 26th till the 30th. I had to be back in Tahiti by the 30th to meet Liz Clark who was flying back from the States with much-needed parts for me before continuing on to her boat, Swell, in the Marquesas. My best hope to return to Tahiti was to leave immediately. Thus began my first windward bashing in the trades…