Our pals on SV Sugar Shack, a Catana 471 that can kick many monohull's asses sailing hard to windward departed from the Maupiti pass early Saturday morning, reporting a calm pass, gentle seas and a Northeast wind that would almost allow them to lay the course to Taha'a. They ended up having a stellar sail, smoking a couple of monohulls on the same trajectory. As we observed their departure on our AIS plotter we also noted the arrival of our pals on SV Caroligui. Luc and Isabelle are a lovely French couple with whom we've shared numerous anchorages and meals over the past few months, and they're arriving just in time for us to enjoy one last evening together. They're on a unique path this year and have taken on crew, a couple of young French fellows, and the one named Stephan has a job offer in New Caledonia. Turns out Stephan's job offer has created an opportunity for the other fellow, Tio, as well as Luc and Isabelle to gain admittance to New Caledonia which is otherwise closed to outsiders during the pandemic.
Luc used to be a station manager for Air France and knows lots of tricks for dealing with international bureaucrats. He's also on a mission to complete a circumnavigation in 3 years, as Isabelle wants to get home to the grandchildren, so he's really creative about finding ways to stick to their schedule. Serious airline management thinking, and they're also serious about good food and wine. Never turn down a dining invitation to SV Caroligui!
Having completed all our activities up by the village, we motor on down to the anchorage by the pass, find a nice spot to drop the hook, then offer to take them snorkeling with the giant manta rays at the nearby cleaning station. They're all up for that, so pretty soon we've got 6 folks in our little dinghy chugging slowly to the cleaning station. In a flash everyone but Isabelle and I are in the water, and my Isabel is leading them towards a good viewing location. Turns out I've got a problem with my right ear so no snorkeling for me today, and Isabelle isn't fond of water more than about a meter deep, so after about 30 seconds in the water she elects to scramble back into the dinghy. That's fine, and we have a nice chat while the others seek out the wonders of mother nature.
Well those blasted tourist boats have scared off just about all the giant manta rays today, so all our crowd got was a brief glimpse of only one. Honestly, so many folks simply won't behave around them and more often than not the gentle giants just vamoose rather than tolerate the harassment. Pretty soon everyone is back aboard and we're hatching a plan for an early birthday gathering for me. That evening on Caroligui a great time is had by all, Luc surprising us with a really nice bottle of local rosé wine, and Tio making a killer coconut cake. Isabel produced fish cakes, and Isabelle whipped up some paté, - an evening of killer wine and nibbles.
Sunday morning we're up before dawn, motoring out of the pass a bit after 0600. Flat as a pancake, and with no breakers the reefs on either side of the narrow opening are revealed. It's pretty obvious why Maupiti can be inaccessible in a big Southerly swell. We've got flat seas and very light winds from the East, so we motor smartly all the way to Taha'a, anchoring a few hours later just South of the fancy resort by the coral gardens. We're on a sandy shelf with 1.5 meters under the keel, no bommies, great holding and turquoise blue water! Screw coronavirus.