The Sweet Spot

It’s been twenty days since we sailed in the open ocean, and a maramu has been blowing for the last nine. So I was jittery this morning going through the south pass in big waves, but now it’s smooth sailing. 

We hit the sweet spot in Fakarava. It’s at 016° 27.167’ S, 145° 22.123′ W, and it’s called Hirifa. There was a gorgeous beach, a natural kite spot, smooth sand for the hook, and boats—lots of boats! Oh, I know everybody fantasizes about that secluded anchorage (maybe not everybody), but we’ve been there, and sometimes a small crowd is fun. It just so happens that in Hirifa, we had a blast!

The environment was magnifique, but the people made all the difference. Kiting and foiling with friends, Steve’s concerts, Rafael & Alice’s fire show, the dinghy float party, sundowners, beach get-togethers, and random boat-backyard chats sent us up, way up.  To be fair, we were already on a high.

The reason was Fakarava atoll’s village, Rotoava, where we had just soaked in a week of flatness. Living on a boat, there’s nothing like flat water for sleeping and flat roads for walking to make us relax and smile. Plus, we could paddle to restaurants and grocery stores there! Can you say, “Poisson cru?”

I can say that and a hell of a lot more because in Rotoava, I went to school. Here’s the story. We were out walking when we came across a group of children who looked a lot like they were waiting for a bus.  “C’est aujourd’hui le premier jour d’école?” I asked in my broken French, and the answer was Oui. It was the first day of school! So, arms laden with French books, I went. We enjoyed each other’s company so much that the teacher asked me to return the next day to read English books. She wanted the students to have an English lesson. What a lucky break it was for me!

In the end, the most important words were Polynesian because saying La ora na (prounced Yorana) to Teruki, picking up our bread order, putting it in our specially shaped baguette bag, and finishing off the exchange with a warm māuruur (pronounced mah-roo-roo) was an awesome way to start each day.

Looking back on all these fond memories of Fakarava, I’m hesitant to even write about diving the South Pass, but I have to because we did it—we dove the infamous wall of sharks. Imagine being ninety feet deep and surrounded by hundreds of les requins (grey reef, white tip, and black tip). I’m out of my comfort zone just thinking about it, but we had traveled so far, and our time to experience this natural wonder had come. So, we donned our scuba gear, held hands, and followed our dive master, Nikko, over to the dark side. Voilà!

Last remarks

• Talk about doing boat work in exotic places! Michael replaced the rubber seals on Gerty’s sliding glass doors in Fakarava. No more black finger prints all over the boat, yipee!
• Until we meet again dear friends: Tasjia & Ralf SV Jangada, Phil & Jacqui SV Skylark, Lili & Steve SV Liward, Jeanne & Dan SV Lucky dog, Eileen & Brown SV Blown Away, Karmen & Tom SV Sauvage, Bruise & Carine SV Noxoma, Anna & Paolo SV Zoomax, Alice & Juliette SV Morgan, and all the other “Hirifa Maramuers.”
• Last but not least, a touching email from Ecole Fakarava, the primary school in Rotoava.