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| Papeete Market |
Our previous hurricane/cyclone seasons have been spent in
places we have really enjoyed. Grenada
and Santa Marta. They both had a lot of
charm and lively locals with interesting places to visit and other cruisers to
spend time with. This year it was to be
Tahiti which promised to match. But
unfortunately not. It just didn’t work
for us and we are not sure why. On the
surface it has a good marina and sheltered anchorage nearby. Lots of other cruisers. A huge Carrefour 10 minutes walk away and, a
half hour away by bus, the town of Papeete is a bustle of boutiques,
restaurants and markets with a distinct French flavour.
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| Painful but I did enjoy being 60kg (91/2 st) |
It didn’t help that I arrived with Dengue fever which
took a month to really recover from.
When we first got here just the sight of the 6 lane highway you could
see snaking up the hill could reduce me to tears. We had hardly seen cars let alone a highway
for over 9 months. So Tahiti did feel
like the big smoke – choked with traffic and exhaust fumes.
Most of our cruiser friends had left for New Zealand and
we discovered that we didn’t know anyone in Tahiti. We did eventually meet some other people who
we would chat to on the dock, but no real friendships developed. So we felt quite isolated. Although it later turned out that there was a
thriving French cruiser network that were having BBQs on the dock and enjoying outings
to other islands and places. All of this
we missed tucked up on our mooring or at anchor.
To cap it all, the marina where we were moored was
trapped between a busy highway and the sea and there was not much around to
do. Apart from a couple of restaurants
in the marina the rest of the area was residential on a steep hill with nowhere
to walk or pass the time of day. And
there were no buses after 6 in the evening or on Sundays, it cost $40 each way
to get a taxi anywhere. Yes $40 each
way.
The cost of living became another scourge. The locals are used to it and somehow afford
it, but to everyone else it’s scandalous and you feel constantly raped –
especially as the locals see you as a wealthy tourist. Coming from Panama the home of the $1 beer to
pay $6 for a small beer in Tahiti was a shock but we are now inured to it. Good practice for being back in Australia I
guess...
But whilst there is a litany of Tahitian woes, there is
an element of ‘what did the Romans ever do for us’. Was there anything we did enjoy during our
stay?
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| Oponuhu Bay |
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| Sailing School - scary when they are let loose and are heading for your boat |
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| These boats are made of metal! |
We had a couple of perfect weekends just chilling on the
beach with a picnic, swimming and learning to paddle board. A small shop selling fresh baguettes and
lots of sights to visit nearby topped the place off. And we pretty much had the place to
ourselves. Why did everyone else sit in
Tahiti? – we were just glad they did.
But we had to return to Tahiti ourselves to collect mail
and get other jobs underway. This time I
was dengue free but Mark got some nasty flu and bronchitis which laid him low. But we did start to have some fun. We met some Australians who were crew on super
yachts and spent Australia day with them.
The idea was to have a dock bbq, but we all got invited to the French Naval
Commander’s house and spent the day with his family - his Australian wife put
on a great Aussie spread complete with the most delicious pavlovas I’ve ever
tasted.
We had moved from the mooring field to anchor in the bay
near the marina which was also a relief – less like being in a caravan park
with a lot more space around. Plus we
were on the main drag where the quick paddle canoes exercised so every evening
we were treated to the sight of 6 athletic men (sometimes women) paddling
past. We noticed that the number and
intensity of activity was increasing.
Then one Sunday morning we awoke to the waves and engines
of hundreds of small fishing and pleasure boats in the bay. There was a race. 70 V6 (six man) quick paddles were about to
set off. It was before 7 but we got the
dinghy down and made the start line just in time – narrowly avoiding being on
the start line not understanding how these things work! It turned out to be a marathon – 49k to
Moorea and back. Most of them completed
the trip in 5 hours – less time than it takes us to sail across one way - and
they had paddled there and back accompanied by the flotilla of small
boats. It was quite a spectacle.
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| The starting line - that's Moorea in the distance |
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| And they're off |
The
stone lifting and tree climbing were impressive but the scene stealer was the
spear throwing. A coconut is hoist on a huge
pole the height of a lamppost and 30 men throw spears at it for 20
minutes. Each team marks its spears and
the one with the most and the one nearest the top of the coconut are the
winners. We had a go with little success
but these guys were awesome. Gives you a
lot of respect for Capt Cook and his crew when they were throwing them in
earnest...
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| Getting a machete through a coconut is difficult enough |
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| Mark perfecting his technique |
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| That was veal! |
It’s not just the roulottes where the food is good. You can pretty much buy every kind of French
cheese and charcuterie and our waistlines have taken the toll. The Tahitian’s eat big; it’s not unusual to
see whole sides of pork in the shopping trolley. The tuna here is also the best we’ve ever had
and did help to rebalance our diets somewhat.
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| We tried not to eat the reef fish but loved the tuna |
As we sit at anchor in many of the bays, a huge cruise ship will appear in the night. The first to notice it announces to the other we have a block of flats alongside. They are huge, graceless mini-cities on the water and totally change the vibe of the island they are visiting. The locals roll out every tourist attraction and we try to avoid going ashore or to town when they are there. Nonetheless, Mark has had a fascination with these boats and has always wanted to see inside.
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| The Paul Gauguin only has 300 passengers - some have 5000 |
Paul Gauguin cruise lines are based in Tahiti and with my
airline background I wondered if they ever had open days for locals. Turns out they didn’t, but they arranged for
us to see on board ostensibly to see if we would like to book a cruise.... It was changeover day and we were given a
tour by a sweet Tahitian girl who also does the dancing in the evening
shows. They were all a bit spooked as
their last cruise had been a special charter of Broadway folk. 300 of them!
The local crew were at a huge disadvantage as they couldn’t tell the
famous from the non which irked the famous somewhat. Not to mention the pressure they were under
with their evening shows. For now
Mark’s curiosity is sated and if we were ever going to book, we wouldn’t bother
with the more expensive cabins; they seemed no different from the ‘cheaper’
ones.
Cruising is 80% trying to get things fixed in the
strangest places. Our trusted Dubarry
sailing boots were discovered one day in a state of disintegration. The compound used to attach the soles to the
leather was crumbling. Dubarry were
useless and didn’t want to know. A
fellow frustrated customer on their face book page asked them if they were
twinning with Ryan Air for the worst customer service nation. Like! But here we were in Tahiti with a few
thousand more miles of crossings and no boots to keep our feet warm.
The local cobbler couldn’t help but sent me to another, 2
bus rides away on the other side of Papeete.
This guy wasn’t interested either but I finally persuaded him to have a
go. When I saw the army come in and take
away 60 resoled boots, I was very hopeful he could deliver. And deliver he did. It took him a month (obviously army contracts
come first) and we had left Tahiti by then, so he sent them on a plane to
Huahine where we were anchored. Dubarry eat
your heart out.
So there are some good memories from Tahiti. And one we
will never forget.
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| Taapuna Pass |
We have left a bit of our marriage there. One journey returning from Moorea, we ran
into multiple squalls on the short 5 hour crossing. It was cold and wet. The entry to the Tahiti lagoon via Taapuna
pass leading to the marina was a very welcome sight. As we guided ourselves through the markers on
either side to avoid the breaking waves, we furled away our sails. When Mark went to grab a sheet, his wedding
ring flew off his cold wet hand, hit a stanchion and landed in the water. We were both in shock for a couple of
days. We thought about putting out a
reward with the dive shops, a ring tattoo, or a local ring but finally decided
we would wait and get a replacement in Sydney.
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