Pitufa.at

The second part of our article about the Gambier islands isn’t published in the july/august, but in the september/october issue. Sorry, we mixed that up.

We’ve just added a few more pics to the Moorea gallery.

This visit to Moorea was less sporty than planned, because it poured down during the first week and the rain turned the footpaths into red-dirt-mudslides–no good for hiking. When the weather turned sunny we tackled the highest summit on the northern coast, Mt. Rotui, but the descent turned out to be too steep, slippery and hot for us (only shrubs and ferns grow on the slope and they provide no shadow at all). We gave up after about two thirds of the way, but at that height the views from the precariously narrow path that leads along the ridge were already great.

Today we used the northerly wind (quite an exception here) for a fast sail back to Tahiti where we’re now parked in the huge anchoring field off Marina Taina.

Time flies by and today we celebrate another cruising anniversary: we’ve already spent 3 years cruising the world on our floating home and we still haven’t grown tired of it
This year’s statistics don’t look as spectacular as the last ones, as we’ve ‘only’ been around French Polynesia:

Visited country: 1
Islands: 11
Nautical miles: about 3000
Days on passage: 30
Expenses: EUR 18,680, of which EUR 8,960 (48%) for boat repairs and new equipment.

Hiking with surprise effect

After finishing the watermaker project (we produce potable water again!!), we did some more hiking on Moorea. There are many paths all over the island, clearly marked, well kept, but lacking one essential feature: signs that reveal the destination of a path. The descriptions in the tourist brochure are also vague and we suspect that tourists are encouraged to do something for the economy and hire a guide… We rather explore without paid company, even though that’s a bit risky. Yesterday we walked up to the Belvedere again and then into a path on the right. It took us down into the valley and then steeply up to the ridge of the mountain chain which is the remainder of a huge caldera all over the island. We got an impressive view of the northern and southern coast with the fringing reef. Up there, a sign informed us that we were at the 3 coconut’s pass. Hmm, a pass? That should mean that continuing down the other side of the ridge would take us to the southern coast. Right? We gambled and walked down the steep path always fearing that it could lead to yet another ascent instead, but we were lucky and reached the south coast through a wonderfully lush valley with several streams and waterfalls.

The return way along the coastal road was 22 km, too far too walk and it seems no buses run around the island that direction (just to the ferry terminal in the east), so we just stuck out our thumbs, hoping to catch a ride as quickly as on other Polynesian islands. But despite the heavy traffic nobody stopped. White faces, local faces, all staring at us, most alone in the car, but none of them interested in helping a tourist out. After almost an hour a little car stopped. The retired schoolteacher was sad to hear about her unfriendly fellow islanders, told us about the school system (there’s 7 primary schools, older pupils take the ferry to Tahiti at 4 o’clock in the morning and get back in the evening) and took us all the way back to Opunohu, despite the fact that she lived on the other side of the island. So we were lucky in the end

The past days have been quite an emotional rollercoaster. Monday morning the bearing arrived at the shop (yippee), but then Christian and Adrian spent a frustrating day hanging head first in the engine compartment, trying to wiggle parts together. Imagine the scene: two sweating, swearing guys lying on the floor, each one stuck with head, one shoulder and one arm in the engine, barely able to reach the things with one hand. (There’s never enough room around engine on sailing boats. Adrian suggested that every boat should carry a gnome taped to the end of a long stick…) There was lots of dirty talking going on (stick it in! harder! no, stop, put more vaseline…), but in the evening they were running out of time with the connection still not done. Knowing that we had an appointment to get the boat into the water in the afternoon, work started at 6 o’clock in the next morning. By ten the thrustbearing and its housing was in place, but the CV joints wouldn’t go in–there just wasn’t enough space. Fearing that we’d have to remove the engine to get them in we fixed a pulley to the mast trying to pull the engine block far enough to get them in–still a few millimetres missing. They undid the engine mounts, pulled again–and finally all parts were in. At 1 o’clock Pitufa was hanging in the belts under the crane, at 2 we got into the water–quickly, check under the engine: no water coming in, hurray! Then we started the engine and suddenly water trickled in from the exhaust. Shit! Tell the crane people we need more time, fasten the hoseclamps even more (always fearing to break them) and finally the flow stopped. Another scary moments followed when we put the engine into gear, but everything held and Pitufa could finally float into freedom again

We’re still on the hard, waiting for a sparepart that was promised to arrived last wednesday, then friday, now postponed to next monday… Everything else is finished: new antifouling, we cut the dieseltank open and cleaned it (what a mess), made all kinds of small repairs and Pitufa’s basically ready to splash. Let’s hope the part arrives, because we can’t wait to get out of the dirty, noisy boatyard.

Sanding, painting, repairing, despairing when yet another complication comes up, running a marathon between chandleries–working in a boat yard’s takes us to our limits (and beyond), but we’re making progress.