Tahiti and Moorea

Last week we bid adieu to the Tuamotus.  Gaston and Valentina never returned, and we never did share a lobster dinner with them – malheureusement!  But no need to worry about them – we know that in these parts it sometimes takes a little longer to get the stuff you need …

After a calm and beautiful passage, that lasted 2 days and 2 nights, we arrived in Tahiti just after daybreak.  The island loomed majestic in the distance – craggy volcanic mountains, 7,000-foot peaks and deeply scored valleys.  Tahiti looked downright awesome to our atoll eyes. 

It was super-exciting to arrive at Papeete, the main harbour on Tahiti and the capital city of French Polynesia.  Of 300,000 people who live throughout all of French Polynesia, about half of them live here in Papeete.  It’s a real city with all the usual urban comforts – enticing after almost 3 months at sea or in remote locations.  We were more than ready to start crossing stuff off our lists of things-to-do and things-to-buy in Tahiti.

The market is open every day with a lively mix of fruit and vegetable vendors, fish mongers (mostly fresh tuna, one of Bill’s faves), baked goods (breads, French pastries, crepes, asian springrolls), colourful fabrics.  And pearls, lots and lots of pearls! 

Besides the famous market, the city has stores galore, museums, parks, ferry and bus services, and a good variety of restaurants from fine food to food trucks, called “roulottes”, that spring up on the waterfront at sundown. All manner of services – skilled trades, sailboat services, medical and dental – all on offer.

As well, of course, there are all the usual challenges of city life. Traffic, lots of traffic.  And crime.  And homelessness.

Apparently, sailboats at anchor in the Society Islands can be a target for petty crime. We’ve yet to meet anyone who has actually encountered trouble of the sort, but incidents of boat boarding, stealing and vandalism have been reported by sailors in these islands. Rarely involving violence or injury, but still. So now we’re getting in the habit of locking our boat, something we’ve never done before. 

When we go ashore, Turtlebones gets all buttoned up, and we return to a veritable sauna.  At night, before bed, we lock ourselves in, leaving only the smallest ports open for the tiniest breeze.  It can get hotter and steamier than we’d like. So far we’ve resisted running the A/C.

Unfortunately, on the day we arrived, our super-excitement dissolved into disappointment rather quickly.  After crossing the fringing reef into the lagoon, we started the usual process of slowly, very slowly, moving around the anchorage in search of best spot to drop our hook.  Hours later, we were still wandering about with no place to park, tired from our passage, and getting a little cranky. 

In the lagoon around Papeete, there are lots of restricted areas – for good reason, anchoring is prohibited in the vicinity of the commercial docks, the ferry docks and the airport, and in other areas anchoring is discouraged or is miles away from shore access. 

It seems, in Papeete and elsewhere in these islands, there is a strained relationship between some locals and transient cruisers like us.  I’m told that a small but vocal minority of local Polynesians resent our presence here.  The anti-boaters complain that large numbers of sailboats are ruining the view, polluting the lagoon, dropping their garbage, paying nothing into the local economy.

For sure, there must be sailors who are arrogant or cheap or both – there are “takers” in every community, including the sailing community – and unfortunately the takers are easily but not-fondly remembered.  Not my experience though, the sailors I’ve met in French Polynesia are mostly grateful for the chance to enjoy these islands, grateful for the hospitality of the local community, and eager to contribute to the local economy in any reasonable way.  

Similarly, I have yet to encounter a single unwelcoming attitude from the locals down here.  Quite the opposite – even here in Tahiti/Moorea where anti-sailboat sentiment is said to be the strongest – everyone you meet is helpful and gracious, playful and kind. 

The pandemic didn’t help matters.  During covid, hundreds of boats were stranded here, and the population of transient cruisers was increased beyond capacity, making matters worse.   

The official government attitude towards transient cruisers is schizophrenic at best.  On the one hand, Tahiti Tourism encourages the sailboat community. They understand that, on balance, transient sailors are a positive factor in the local economy, and they back it up with tax breaks and generous rules of stay for foreign vessels.  On the other hand, the small but vocal minority of anti-boaters ensures than no new infrastructure has been built to keep up with increasing demand.  Marinas are full, with waiting lists several years long – or no reservation system at all.  Anchorages have been converted into commercial mooring fields rented by the year.  And several islands have passed laws against any anchoring at all.  But the anti-boater sentiment is not widely held, and the no-anchoring rules are not enforced.  It’s all very chaotic.  And leaves first-time visitors like us feeling confused and disappointed.

So, on the day we arrived, we found ourselves shut out.  No room at the marina – we were on their waitlist, but we had no way of knowing it was years-long – or if it really even exists.  Several vacant mooring balls – in what appears on the charts as an anchorage area – and all of them already rented.  And even the so-called illegal anchorage was full – swing room was just too tight for our liking.  Reluctantly, we left Papeete and made a short 10-mile pass over to Tahiti’s sister island, Moorea. 

By early afternoon, we’d settled in, having almost immediately found a perfect place to drop our anchor.  We’re here on the east side of Moorea, in Vaiare Bay, and the 5-times-daily fast ferry to Papeete is just a short dinghy hop away. 

Already we’ve enjoyed two lovely day trips to Papeete, and lots more yet to see and do over there. 

We have a gorgeous anchorage over here in Vaiare Bay – just 10 feet of crystal-clear water over hard sand bottom.  Easy to see where the coral of the fringing reef begins and ends.  There’s a small marina at the shore near the ferry dock – room for 60 boats – fully booked, for the next few years. We’re out here, on the sand bar, just inside the fringing reef. It’s quiet and beautiful – we’re one of just 3 or 4 boats.

We are constantly entertained by the sea creatures who come visit around our boat.  All the usual culprits, reef sharks, puffer fish, rays.  In the clear water, we can snap pics of them from our boat deck!

This morning we awoke to spotted eagle rays.  Hard to know what they could possibly find to eat on that clear sandy ocean bottom – but judging by their lip prints in the sand, there must be something yummy down there.

At sundown, we cooled off with a quick swim off the back of the boat.  That’s when the spotted eagle rays returned – en group, a bit unusual I think, seven in all. 

We planned to leave Vaiare Bay today, to start our circumnavigation of the island – other Moorea anchorages promising to be even more beautiful.  But we haven’t left yet, it’s just too peaceful here.