Three Squalls
18 September 2022
• Bora bora French Polynesia
by robin
The trade winds have spoiled us. We have gotten used to regularly going 150 miles in a day so the 120 mile to Bora Bora in a short overnight seemed like a good plan. The 120 mile calculation assumed (badly) both a straight line course over several islands and reefs and perfectly reliable trade winds. At our early morning change of watch Karl was worried. He had not made good time. Although he really wanted to go to sleep we decided that poling out the jib would improve our progress. We have not used the pole since before the Marqueseos so this was the first chance to use our brand new spinnaker car. Even if we felt a little rusty by the time Karl crashed we were moving along a 20% faster, enough to get to Bora Bora by dark.
The Society Island chain is another place we have the unexpected chance to explore because we have traveled so fast. Many options were offered on where to go after Tahiti. Islands with whales, small islands, big islands, young islands and old island. Reflecting on the input from Sea Pearl - "many manta rays", Tom, an friend who used to work in Papua New Guinea - "amazing landforms" and our own curiosity - "what does an atoll with a shrinking volcano feel like" lead us to turn towards Bora Bora.
I started the morning hand steering to get the best performance out of the boat. Mabel, the wind vane, is a little wacky sometimes in her steering. On bad days she looks like a drunk helmsperson at the wheel. In the predawn light the shiloette of Huahini appeared then ahead Raieteia, the island between us and Bora Bora. These craggy volcanos were to the north, my right but something made me glace over my left shoulder. Oh my what a big squall was on our tail. Streaky slanting grey rain lines fell from a broad dark grey cloud, stark against the blue grey predawn light. With the pole up we are moving fast to the west and I hoped we will slip away from this squall. It is perfectly timed to capture the rising sun. As the sun rose the scary clouds that loomed threateningly grey were slowly laced with pink. A pink squall is much less scary than a dark grey. The boat is moving away from the yellow sunrise and the pink squall. Two hours later I am treated to another squall, again we dodge.
Just before lunch, the end of my midday watch the wind died. In the wind shadow of Raitea, we were becalmed and what little wind there was pushing us in the wrong direction. It was time to drop the pole and put up the main. I hate to wake Karl up but Bora Bora before dark is rattling in my head. We turn on the engine, then as it warms discuss whether the squall to our east will hit us. I am not sure but I should have realized that we were sitting ducksl. We get the boat ready to sail then Karl announces he is going to reef. Soon the squall hits we are flying along in close to 30 knots of wind closing the gap between us and Bora Bora. A change of watch squall, I get to steer the first half and Karl the second while I make lunch. With the flat seas behind the island she flys along quickly.
Well before sunset we passed through the only break in the fringing reef into the calm Bora Bora lagoon. Before dark we tied up to a mooring in the shadow of the looming fragments of the eroding volcano. Our emergency can of French cassoulet with salad and red wine are perfect to celebrate three squalls.
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