How we came to Tahiti to find the round-the-world sailors of “Blagovestie.” Where to spend the night between the reefs, how to miss your target properly, and what’s missing for complete happiness on a circumnavigation 🙂
Tahiti appeared as a haze on the horizon long before evening. But we approached it at dusk. The most famous island in all Polynesia is surrounded by a ring of reefs. The captain starts the engine so we can reach a temporary anchorage sheltered from easterly and southerly winds before dark. Sixty metres of anchor chain, a light supper, and bed. Up at 4 to leave the reef belt on the ebb tide.
Our reports from the passage to Tahiti never reached their destination, and we don’t know where to look for the crew of the round-the-world yacht “Blagovestie.”
The route along Tahiti’s northern shore through sunglasses
Maxim, Natasha and their daughters, Ksyusha and Polina, aboard the yacht “Theophania,” are Russia’s first cruising sailors to live on the ocean with children—none of our compatriots had done so before them. “Theophania” is now in Tahiti. Before leaving the Marquesas, we didn’t clarify exactly which bay they were in. All we know is that it’s somewhere in Papeete (the capital of French Polynesia).
I had imagined the anchorage where the others might be as a sheltered, horseshoe-shaped bay. But all we can see so far are yachts anchored close to shore in what looks like an open spot.
With the morning ebb tide, we set off to search. Up at 4 a.m. I decided to skive off, using my evening headache as an excuse, so we sent the young sailor to deal with the anchor. While Nastya hauls in the chain, Ladunya gets up too, so as not to miss anything. Lady Mary leaves the ring of reefs and heads west. Half an hour later, I can’t stand it any longer either. Who could sleep with Tahiti drifting past the window?
View of the island of Moorea from the Arue anchorage, Tahiti
The deductive method
To find “Theophania” and the others, we use the highly unscientific method of poking around at random:
Here’s the first anchorage, ARUE.
What does their boat look like?
A Bermuda sloop, awnings, and a sail cover that’s either green or blue.
The captain looks through the binoculars:
Doesn’t seem to be here...
No, they’re probably at a more sheltered anchorage—we don’t yet know that the anchorages here are protected not so much by land as by the reefs, where the waves break.
We pass the port, some yachts laid up... No, not here... And now we reach Taina, Tahiti’s westernmost anchorage from Papeete, which we comb back and forth.
Where are they, where?—the young sailor peers at every yacht that looks even remotely similar.
Could that be them?
We make a loop.—No, not them.
Here are two large grey catamarans—“Escapade,” which we know from Easter Island. Those are the American guys whose chain Andryukha unwound from the coral and whose winch he helped repair. The second is “Azyu,” our friends from the Marquesas—the French couple with two little girls. We drop anchor beside “Azyu,” and sleepy little Yuna has already spotted us through the window.
We don’t find Max and Natasha. But we’re amazed that the water is so blue at such a crowded—yacht-crowded—anchorage. And we really enjoy breakfast on deck—we can safely finish the fruit we stocked up on back in the Marquesas, because today we’ll buy fresh fruit!
Okay. We’ll go ashore and find each other online.
That’s what we decided.
Landing at the dinghy dock . Taina Marina
At the dinghy dock by Taina Marina, our intrepid dinghy can stay for free. All the other dinghies, tenders and little boats are locked up with cables, motors and all. We haven’t seen this kind of locking-up for ages—not since Mexico, I think. Our brave little fellow has no motor, but we lock him up too. Superyachts and more modest yachts line the pontoons.
The “Azyu-ites” showed us the big Carrefour supermarket, three hundred metres to the left of the marina. A narrow pavement along the island’s main road leads to it. It feels as though we’ve landed in some big city. Starved of big shops and brown bread with French cheese (we hadn’t had any since Easter Island), we bought both. The young sailors and I specifically celebrated our arrival in Tahiti with fried chicken:
Mmm... Don’t you think the chicken looks tastier than it actually is?
Nope, tastes good to me.
Hmm...—and I savour another bite more thoughtfully.
We found internet at the marina bar in exchange for four glasses of juice. Tahitian prices kill any desire to look at the menu. Besides, before going to a café for internet, we always make a point of eating first :).
A message flies off to Natasha:
“Guys, we’ve sailed halfway around Tahiti looking for you—are you in the other half, then?”
“We’re in ARUE,” came the reply ))).
Aaaah... mmm... and we spent last night two miles from you. Then we shot off to look for you much farther away. Well, never mind—we’ll come back tomorrow.
You can’t anchor everywhere there—the yacht club trains every day, and they get cross if yachts block the passages and open water in the bay. We can come out to meet you. Call us by satellite phone; we’ll know it’s you and head out in the dinghy to meet you.
Schoolchildren’s PE lesson
Natasha immediately asks what we need to do and how they can help.
Well, our chain is a hundred metres of rust. And the repairs have been piling up. But our main task in Tahiti is to become friends with you :).
Consider it done. And you can ask Michel about the chain, right there in the marina. His prices are reasonable.
The captain found out that 100 metres of new chain would cost us about 2,500 dollars. We decided to carry on with this one for a while longer.
Mum, are they glad to see parishioners?—the young sailor asks.
They are. Especially sail-in parishioners, Natasha replies. . A meeting in the middle of the Pacific Ocean
About 10 nautical miles (18.5 km) separate western Papeete from eastern Papeete. Along the way, a yacht has to cross the entrance to the main port and, twice, the flight path of Tahiti’s airport runway. Yachts request permission to cross the runway on VHF channel 12.—What if a plane catches on your mast? Port Control gives us clearance. Five minutes later, we hear:
Lady Mary, Lady Mary! You need to request permission twice—before each crossing.
Oops, pardon. We’ll know next time—and we continue along the fairway between the reefs and the shore.
“Come in through the wide passage,” Natasha had written. “You can get through the narrow one too, but it’s nerve-racking.” Waves break over the reef belt, the captain holds course for the main passage, and the girls and I worry:
What are the Blagovestie people like? What if we don’t like each other?
We draw closer to the little islet where Theophania is anchored. And then a plastic dinghy comes towards us. Maxim is smiling broadly...
A few photos
Cheerful colour scheme
PE for Tahitian children
To be continued!