Mistral of Portsmouth - The passage from Ua Pou, Marquesas to Ahe, Tuamotu

We are here! First passage for just the two of us and we are alive, still friends and the boat is in one piece. We had fairly light winds, a few small squalls (the wind and rain appear very rapidly) when the sails generally need to be reefed in so the boat is not battered by the sudden big gusts, and lots of big skies, perfect sunsets and a full moon to guide us through the nights. 

With 3 hours on and 3 hours off, most of the time is taken either sailing or sleeping. We’ve generally caught up on sleep in time to have a meal together at 6pm and then on we go for another night. My sailing confidence has definitely improved over the months … I’m happy taking the sails in and out by myself; dealing with boats that come too close; managing squalls and keeping the sails filled … and of course, starting the engine in the event of rubbish wind. Not too shabby though I say so myself!

Highlight of our passage was catching a tuna - we managed it together. Generally, Chris reels, I gaff (stick a big hook into the gills to lift the fish into the boat) and pour vodka into the fish to ease it on its way to the great fish heaven in the sea! With Chris holding the fish, I gut and then fillet the fish. I need sharper knives and a bigger board to work on but all things considered, we ended up with 4 big tuna fillets - enough for 16 portions!

Getting into the atolls is really challenging. At Ahe, our chosen atoll, there is only one small passage to allow entry and exit … only 200 yards wide and about half a mile long. The water rushes out of the atoll at a rate of knots always (water comes in over the reef and needs to get out) but there is a tide trying to rush in or out, wind that funnels through the passage and very shallow waters as the reef is not far below the surface. Plenty of potential for mishaps. Indeed, the Tuamotos are called the dangerous archipelago since many ships have found themselves caught on reefs and sunk (remember Kon-tiki?). We did loads of planning to get to the entrance at slack tide (5 to 6 hoursafter moon rise or set). We were an hour or so later than we wanted to be - we took a look and decided to give it a go. So … we donned our life jackets, closed all hatches and I went to the bow of the boat with my polarised sunglasses so that I could see rocks that might jeopardize Mistral. I used my harness to strap myself to the boat (just in case of rogue waves) and with butterflies in my stomach we made our way into the atoll. 

As it turned out, the passage was fine. There was a current of 3 knots and depths of 5m, choppy waters but no rogue waves. High fives all round. Next challenge was to cross the atoll to the anchorage in front of the ‘village’ and anchor - avoiding rocks (bommies of rock and coral that are randomly across the seabed). The crossing was well marked but the anchorage is strewn with random bommies. When we had anchored, I swam all around the boat with a depth monitor to check we couldn’t swing into a shallow bommie. We were all good. Time for a beer, a large gin, some good wine and then a very early night!