Tuamotus, Tuamotus, Tuamotus

After our wild sail to Makatea, Bernie and I set out for Rangiroa. This time the crossing was a lot smoother. The angle was still terrible for sailing so we kept the engines running but the sea was calm and easy. It was a comfortable twelve hour ride and as we chased the sunset toward the island we were greeted by a pod of spinner dolphins playing off our bow. They rode the waves we created for a good twenty minutes, spinning and leaping like they were celebrating with us. It was one of those moments that just leaves you speechless.

Once we anchored we knew we would be staying a few days so we broke out all the toys, the efoil, the waterbed, the paddleboards. It felt good to just play for a while. We also got lucky that a hotel nearby was hosting a local dance show. After the performance they did the usual tradition of inviting tourists up to dance. What I thought was a friendly gesture turned out to be more like a public humiliation ritual. Of course I was unlucky enough to get picked. As I awkwardly stumbled through the dance moves all I could hear was Bernie laughing hysterically in the background. Not my finest hour but I guess it is all part of the experience.

After I somehow survived the dancing Bernie and I sat down for a nice meal that, for once, was not cooked by us and we called it an early night.

The next couple of days in Rangiroa were exactly what we needed. Way more relaxing compared to Makatea. We snorkeled around looking for dolphins, explored the reefs, and took the dinghy out to Rangiroa's Blue Lagoon. We were lucky enough to visit when there were no tour boats around and since our dinghy has such a small draft we could weave through the shallow channels completely on our own.

The Blue Lagoon was something out of a dream. Different shades of blue everywhere you looked. The shallow sand banks created this surreal blend of milky turquoise and bright teal, and where the water dropped off, it turned into a deep sapphire blue. Standing there it almost did not feel real, like you were floating in the sky. It is easily one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen.

Even in paradise though, boat life never stops throwing problems at you. One of the days we noticed the sun protection strip on our jib was starting to come apart. We took the jib down and got it repaired at a local sail loft. Easy enough, or so we thought. When we tried to rehoist the jib we ended up pulling the wrong end of the halyard and jammed it up at the top of the mast. That led to me climbing the mast with Bernie's help not once, not twice, but four times trying to fix the situation. It was one of those days that just snowballed. Boat problems are like Russian dolls, you open one issue only to find three more inside. I will say though, hanging from the top of the mast over a lagoon that blue was not the worst view to have, but hopefully I will not be doing it again anytime soon.

Another problem that had been haunting us since Tahiti also made a comeback. One of our engines would not turn off. In Tahiti we had thrown every possible fix at it, mechanics changed solenoids, wiring, even starter relays. Each fix worked for a day and then the problem would come back. After banging my head against the wall for what felt like an eternity trying to troubleshoot it, I finally called my friend Chad from Diesel Days back in Florida. Within twenty seconds of hearing the symptoms he said it was the MDI box. I switched the boxes between the two engines and sure enough the problem followed the box. Swapping it out solved the issue once and for all. It is crazy how sometimes you just need someone who knows exactly what to look for.

After patching up those headaches we had to get moving again. Unfortunately we were on a time crunch so after a few days we lifted anchor. The plan was to stop at Apataki, then Toau, and then Fakarava.

Apataki was special in its own way. We anchored up on the north side of the island completely alone. No other boats, no lights, just us and the stars. That night we set up the projector on the boat and watched a movie under the open sky. Moments like that remind me how simple and good life can be.

We took advantage of being alone and walked across the island from the lagoon side to the ocean side. There we found a graveyard of bleached corals piled up into small mountains. It was beautiful in a sad kind of way, a reminder of how delicate all of this is.

Later we made our way down to the main town in Apataki. English was pretty rare there but we still managed to share some beers with the locals and watched an intense volleyball game that seemed like the big event of the week. It was a cool little glimpse into island life.

From there we sailed to Toau. We met some old school sailors there, real salty dogs who had been living on their boats for ten years. They were full of stories, full of advice, and full of beers they were happy to share. They even came to our rescue when they saw us struggling to pick up a mooring ball which turned into a good laugh once we were tied up properly.

We went spearfishing that day too. Even though we did not catch anything, we got a little spooked by some curious sharks, it was still incredible to see how alive the reef was. It felt truly untouched.

The next day we headed for a place called Toau Whale Anchorage, a shallow spot protected by coral bommies. Getting in was a mission. Bernie and I found ourselves yelling across the boat, trying to spot bommies and direct each other through the maze. It definitely put our teamwork to the test. Somehow, more through luck than skill, we made it through and dropped anchor in three meters of clear blue water.

That night we reached out to a few other boats nearby and ended up meeting crews who had sailed all the way from Denmark. Some of them had gotten as far as French Polynesia and just decided to stay. And honestly, I get it. It is hard to imagine a better place to settle down.

The next morning we tried to leave through the pass at Toau. Up until now every pass people had warned us about turned out to be fine. We got a little too confident. Toau's pass looked easy on the charts but when we got there it was anything but.

Three meter standing waves were hammering us right on the stern as we tried to get through. It was uncomfortable to put it lightly. Looking back we probably should not have gone. But we made it through, a little rattled but fine. Definitely a good reminder that out here you cannot afford to get cocky.

We dinghied back to the boat, charted a course, and made for Fakarava. We had been almost a week without a real market, without being able to find basic things like milk and bread, and we were really hoping Fakarava would be different.

As we sailed into the north side of Fakarava Bernie and I looked at each other and immediately said we are staying here for at least a week. It had everything we needed, markets, restaurants, diesel, and more importantly an island full of adventure.

Fakarava is famous for its scuba diving, especially the south pass and the legendary Wall of Sharks. Bernie had not gotten his scuba license yet so we took the opportunity to get him certified right there in what has to be one of the best places on the planet to learn.

We found an amazing dive instructor who took Bernie from zero to certified in three days, just in time for the Wall of Sharks.

The Wall of Sharks had been on my mind for months. People talk about seeing seven hundred sharks swirling just a few feet away and now we were about to find out for ourselves.

On dive day we loaded up the dinghy for the hour and a half ride down to the south pass. When we got there the dive master gave us simple instructions, stay by the wall, stay below the sharks, do not swim toward them.

We dropped into the water and instantly saw hundreds and hundreds of sharks circling. It was breathtaking. Maybe one of the most incredible underwater scenes I have ever witnessed.

One of my favorite memories though was not even the dive itself, it was Bernie getting back on the boat, ripping off his mask, and shouting, that was the coolest thing I have ever done.

We spent a few more days in Fakarava diving the north pass, seeing pristine coral reefs and massive schools of fish. The marine life there is something else. You can tell they work hard to protect it.

Towards the end of the week we moved the boat down to the pink sand beaches on the south side of Fakarava. It was calm, beautiful, and the perfect spot to test out the efoil again.

Unfortunately there was no wind to kite or windsurf but it did not matter. Just being there floating in two meters of clear water was enough.

Now it is time to head back to Tahiti. We have a lot of work to do on the boat and a tight schedule to keep. The next sail will be the longest yet, about forty hours, but this time we will finally be able to hoist the sails and go downwind.

Hopefully we pick up some speed and get ready for the next big chapter.