Pitufa.at

The festival here in Rikitea has been going on for a week. Unfortunately we missed a few days because of the terrible weather, but two days ago the wind died down, the sun came out again and we could go out for activities again. Now the serious competitions start: yesterday the theme for the two competing dance groups was Mangarevan dance–they both danced different stories and legends from the local history, depicting ships, battles and love stories (one reminded us of Helena and the siege and battles between the Greeks and Trojans . The costumes and dances seemed very archaic, the dancers looking like fully grown shrubs and lots of foot stamping. Today’s competition will be on Tahitian dance – we except lots of hip wiggling from the girls and knee wobbling from the guys

On Friday we came back to Mangareva for the annual cultural festival. This festival’s the most important event of the year here, it lasts two weeks, there are lovingly decorated food stands and each day some event is scheduled. The two competing dance groups of the island have practiced every day for two months (we heard them drumming every night and checked on their progress a few times) so they’re quite good and they’ve made pretty costumes and a complicated choreography. They danced yesterday and there will be a competition at the end of next week and tonight Mr. and Miss Mangareva will be elected

Unfortunately, a front is slowly moving over the Gambiers and it is damn cold, pouring down like crazy, and blowing hard. For tomorrow even gale-force winds are predicted, so dinghy rides to watch the performances ashore take some preparation and dedication…

Usually the cruising yachts are evenly distributed around the many anchorages in the archipelago, but at the moment everybody’s come back to Rikitea for the festival, so it’s quite crowded (more than 20 yachts), but the holding’s great, so there shouldn’t be any problem even in gale force winds.

During our second stay in Taravai we anchored in the southern bay, because we wanted to visit the few families who live here. We did several dinghy excursion, were received with Polynesian hospitality, talked to the people and heard lots of interesting stories.

There’s an abandoned village on the eastern side of the island. Only one family lives here als caretakers. Herve and Valerie maintain the church and the houses and take care of the gardens. They’re happy to have visitors, we were invited for a cup of tea and as they both speak good English (a rarety here) it was informative talking to them and by far less demanding than our usual efforts in bad French mixed with mime. There used to be a real village here, but during the last 25 years the population slowly moved to Mangareva, drawn there by the possibility to make money with pearlfarming. Only on the weekends some of them come here. Valerie teaches their two kids herself using French material and she’s also an artist: she uses the multicoloured sand of the island to make pictures with traditional motives. They’re happy in their little paradise and only take their boat to Rikitea to go shopping–they think it’s too hectic and noisy in town (Rikitea has less than 1000 inhabitants ). We brought a book for the older son and cookies for the younger one and left loaded heavily with fruit and veggies.

A bit outside the village we met Didier, a French cruiser who came here 10 years ago on a rusty steel boat. He stayed, got a house, the boat slowly dissolved, but now he’s got a new one and plans on going cruising again. Didier’s dog accompanied him on his journeys, enjoyed life on Taravai, but now he’s 18 years old, can barely walk anymore and so Didier waits with his departure until his long-time companion leaves on his own journey to doggy-heaven.

Edouard and Denise have cleared some land in the south of the island and have built a pretty house there, where they live with their little granddaughter. I call out ‘Enakoto! Peeakoto’ (Hello, how are you?) as we land the dinghy, eager to use my newly acquired Mangarevan vocabulary (Valerie taught me some phrases). Denise only shakes her head and answers in French–she’s from the Tuamotus and speaks Tahitian, also a polynesian language, but very different. We write into their guestbook, buy a necklace made of shells and head back to Pitufa with the dinghy filled up with basil, mint and rosemary.

The house of Herve’s aunt stands on the little island Agakauitai south of Taravai. Auntie only visits ocassionally, the three permanent residents live underneath the house: three piggies who run out squealing and grunting when a dinghy arrives. After a short period of uncertainty it became clear that they’re not aggressive but happy to have visitors. They want to be scratched behind their ears and have their bellies stroked.

Strong winds out of the northeast put an end to our excursion. The island protects us from waves, but the wind howls in short gusts around the cape and down from the mountains. First it’s perfectly calm, then the wind howls towards us with up to 50 knots, beats up the spray from the crests of the chop, spins Pitufa’s bow around and pushes her on the side only to calm down a few minutes later. The situation’s uncomfortable, but not dangerous, as we have 70 metres of chain out and a very trustworthy anchor. We use the calm weather that follows the northerly wind to move back to Mangareva.

We got back to Rikitea last Monday, because the supply ship was due. It didn’t show up though until Wednesday, instead yet another cold front arrived, lowering temperatures to 15 degrees this time… We used the week to run some errants (each one involving several splashy dinghy rides in the icy wind), got more Kerosene for our stove, stocked up Diesel, traded some veggies from local gardens for rum and when the supply ship finally arrived we joined the long queues in front of the shops. “We already have onions and potatoes, tomorrow carrots and cabbage should be unloaded…” In the end we got everything and are now ready to explore more of the archipelago.
The Gambier consist of five high islands and about 18 islets and motus all within the protected lagoon. We only have visited 2 of the islands so far and are eager to see more of this beautiful archipelago.

We’re still in the Baie Angui on the little island of Taravai. It’s windy again, but at least we’re partly protected here (some gusts make it over the hills) and it’s been sunny for two days. We’ve learned that the weather changes so quickly here that one really has to take advantage of good weather to go snorkeling/hiking – if you try to finish a project first, it might be rainy again when you’re ready to leave We’re the only boat in ‘our’ bay, this side of Taravai is unpopulated (a few families live on the other side), no tracks lead here, but the grassy hills behind the bay looked so tempting that we decided this morning to put on hiking boots, long trousers and to give it a try. Maybe it’s a typical Austrian obsession that we always want to get up mountains, just because they’re there We beached the dinghy on a tiny white beach and looked doubtfully up at the dense vegetation: the curtain of palm trees, dragontrees, pine trees, ferns and reed seemed impenetrable. What looked like grass from afar, turned out to be about 2.5 m high weed, dotted with spiky shrubs and dense patches of fern. We slowly made our way uphill and were soon covered in scratches. We changed tactics and tried to walk mainly under the pine trees, where the vegetation is less spiky, but the needle-covered ground’s quite slippery. After about an hour we were standing on the ridge of the hill, sweating and itchy from all the scratches, but feeling like genuine explorers. The view of the neighbouring bay to the south and of our bay with Pitufa in the azure water in between fringe reefs and and coral patches glittering in different shades under the deep blue sky was more than enough reward for a little discomfort.

Exactly two years ago we set out on our adventure from Croatia with the aim of reaching the South Pacific as quickly as possible–it took us two years in the end, but now we’re here We celebrated this special day with a picknick on a remote beach on the island of Taravai (Gambier, French Polynesia) with our friends from s/v Irie, contemplating how lucky we are to able to experience so many different cultures, see such incredible places, meet so many interesting people and live so close to the elements. Back home we went through last year’s log entries and did some statistics (like one year ago in Curacao…).

Our second year in numbers:
5100 nautical miles.
84 days at sea, of which
40 daysails.
6 countries.
50 anchorages.
29 islands.
0 days in a marina.
0 days on the hard.
302 engine hours.
19000 euros, of which
7350 euros for boat repairs and new equipment.

For comparison, the numbers of our first year are here.

The weather report keeps promising warmer weather, but it never seems to actually arrive here. Winter’s coming here in the southern hemisphere and it feels like it. Yesterday I caught myself whistling ‘jingle bells’… When the sun’s out it’s hot, but the wind blowing from the south’s just icy cold. During the weekend we had constant wind around 25 knots, gusts up to 35 (that’s around 60 km/h), now it’s getting a bit calmer. Showering has become a matter of timing: wait for a slightly calmer period and sunny spell, hop into the water (also down to 23 degrees now), shampoo, hop back into the water, rinse off, quickly put on some cozy warm clothes and grab a mug of steaming tea to defrost again Pitufa’s a warm-weather boat: we have an open cockpit, no heater, so we hope for some mild autumn days soon. Tomorrow we’re planning to move to another island within the atoll, mostly to find an anchorage with better protection from the wind. Leeloo hates wind and hasn’t been out on deck for days. She’s getting grumpy and bored, she’s also no longer used to temperatures around 20 degrees and is working hard to quickly grow (even) thicker fur