Windy Days in Moorea.
26 February 2019
Bob & Lesley Carlisle
25th – 31st January: Arriving in Moorea we took heed of the advice we’d got from Mark on ‘Kefi’ and rather than tuck-in behind the reef to the east side of the Opunopu Bay entrance, we turned west and found ourselves a spot in the small anchorage at that side. Absolutely delightful spot, great snorkelling right off the boat and a relatively short dinghy ride a little further west to ‘Stingray City.’ That’s an area of reef where the rays (all sorts, not just stingrays) congregate and to which assorted trip-boats make regular visits for their passengers to swim with the rays and of course feed them (we’d been recommended to use a mixture of tinned tuna and stale bread – it seemed to work). The question of course being which came first, the concentration of rays there, or the humans providing them food? Being in our own dinghy we were able to head across at about 07:30 and pretty much have the place to ourselves, by the time we left again there were perhaps three trip-boats out there and nearer ten by the time we’d got back to Moon Rebel.
With stronger albeit still ENE/NE winds forecast we thought to find be better protection anchored within Opunopu Bay itself rather than out on the reef, so after a couple of days we upped anchor and moved into the head of the bay, planning to do some walking between the promised ‘heavy rain showers’. Mark & Deb on Kefi were probably pleased to have a little more space when we left, as having given us directions to get into the western anchorage, they’d subsequently arrived and struggled to find a space to anchor themselves; that’s the trouble with giving good advice about your ‘secret’ anchorages to people, they remember them, then go and clutter them up just when you want to revisit.
We did get ashore once, but for the next four days we mainly just hung on as Moon Rebel bounced around in what seemed to be ever stronger wind squalls and lumpier seas; the swells coming through the reef entrance we reflecting off the western shore of the bay and bouncing back to reach our supposedly ‘sheltered’ corner. Fortunately the holding was very good and we’d lots of space to swing around in and it was that ‘ample’ space/nobody else anchored here’ that finally worked its way through our thick skulls: If we’d been sat just behind the reef and it had been this rough, we would’ve come down into the bay seeking better shelter, so if nobody was coming in to join us, it perhaps wasn’t as bad out there? We upped anchor and motored back to the mouth of the bay to tuck-in behind the reef on the east side and what a difference we immediately found: Whilst the underlying wind was certainly blowing much harder (15-20 knots rather than 5-8) out here, that was the end of it, the anchorage wasn’t open to the ocean swells working through the entrance pass nor getting the regular 30+ and even one or two 40-50 knot wind gusts that we’d been suffering down in the bay; they were obviously a ‘local’ effect caused by the bay’s steep surrounding hills funnelling the wind into it. To add insult to injury, we also discovered that out here we could pick-up one of the best/fastest wifi signals that we’ve enjoyed in French Polynesia and it was open/free too!
We sat behind Opunopu Bay’s east-reef for almost two weeks – the anchor of a decent internet signal no doubt being one factor, though we did manage to disconnect from it long enough to take several walks, hire a scooter to tour the rest of the island and do a few boat jobs too – mainly preparations for making the 100 mile passage across to the island of Huahine. As ever it seems of late, we couldn’t find a suitable weather-window, though at least we were in a pleasant spot, with good company whilst we waited. It was my birthday too and though there wasn’t a nearby bar or restaurant to go out and celebrate, Jay & Erwin off ‘Winsome’ delivered buckwheat pancakes with fruit and chocolate sauce, topped with a candle for a birthday breakfast; they’d come early as we’d been hoping that there might be an outside chance of setting off for Huahine that day? No joy!
13 -18th February: A major consideration in our eagerness to get to Huahine was a building and approaching weather system away to the WNW of us, whilst Huahine would probably be closer to its centre, the island looked to offer a much better choice of protected anchorages? As the week progressed the weather was ever less conducive for ‘sailing’ to Huahine, but approaching system’s forecast track looked less likely to hit us, so rather than a slow and uncomfortable motor, we chose instead to simply sail the dozen miles around to Vai’are on Moorea’s east coast and sit it out there – winds & seas were forecast to come from the NNW through WNW. Vai’are Bay itself would be the perfect spot, but the whole bay’s a ‘No Anchoring’ zone to allow the inter-island ferries space to manoeuvre, with that off-limits, we instead tucked ourselves up behind the reef a mile or so to the north.
We’d not been here before and were disappointed to find the holding ‘patchy’ and the available space somewhat limited, not helped by a Canadian yacht already there having laid 60m of chain right across the centre of the shallower area and then hurled abuse at anyone who had the temerity to anchor anywhere ahead of him. It took us three tries to get the anchor dug/set to our satisfaction and sure enough, five minutes later the Canadian was across to tell us we had to move because we were ‘sitting on my anchor’; I just smiled and pointed out his anchor which you could clearly see on the seabed perhaps 20-30’ astern of us. He still wasn’t happy admonishing us for being too close, to which we enquired as to what’d changed? A few days before he’d pulled into the Opunopu Reef anchorage and anchored < 60’ off our bow and if that was OK, how come 3x that distance was now too close? We didn’t move, but he never spoke to us again; fortunately we’ve managed to survive.
The winds began picking-up during Saturday and all went well until dark o’clock on Sunday morning: I’d not made a good enough job of lashing the dinghy down on the foredeck and about 02:00 that flipped upright and acted like a sail, we got it down and resecured, but by then the additional load had already ‘dragged’ our anchor by about 10m. We still had ample space/clearance on everyone else, but had no way of knowing how secure the anchor now was and given the effort it’d taken to get a good grip in the first instance, I really wasn’t confident to trust it in what promised to be F7/8 winds. With a lull in the wind, we lifted the anchor and guided by the chart plotter/GPS motored down behind the reef, into Vai’are Bay and re-anchored toward its SW corner, hopefully clear of the ferry route; it might be ‘No Anchoring’ but there’ll be no ferries until daylight, so we’ll be able to stay until then at least.
The first ferry of the day arrived about 07:30 and we were anchored exactly where he apparently wanted/needed to be, so lots of horns sounded and a demand that we leave the bay immediately; given that they’d quite clearly ‘detoured’ to put us in their way and the wind was currently gusting 35-40 knots, I wasn’t best impressed. Instead of leaving we waited for the next wind lull and with the assistance of daylight and directions from the local fishermen (there were a whole fleet of small outriggers hand-line fishing in the bay) we manoeuvred Moon Rebel even further south and west, then re-anchored a good 150m further away from the ferry docks. There seemed to be just the one ferry driver/helmsman who wished to make an issue of our being there, taking very convoluted routes to the dock on each arrival in an effort to be impeded by us, we meanwhile had allies: having already guided us into a deep-water corner of the bay, whenever a ferry arrived, several fishing boats would invariably position themselves between us and the ferry’s route in, if we were inshore of the fishing boats, how could we possibly be in the way?
Sunday and into Monday were simply wild, though I suspect that the bay’s topography (steep high sides, with one low saddle directly to windward of us) perhaps accelerated the winds, but with good holding and lots of space – all to ourselves! – we sat out the blow reasonably comfortably. As an added bonus, when the winds finally eased during Monday, we were handily placed to get ashore in the dinghy and visit the ‘cheap-beer’ supermarket in Vai’are to replenish our dwindling stocks.
19th – 22nd: We were sitting with coffee early on Tuesday morning when the Port Police launch arrived and advised that we needed to leave, though when he saw that we’d coffee brewed, he gave us another hour. It was still wet, windy and squally but the danger if not the discomfort from the weather system had now passed, so we were happy to comply. Fortunate we were granted that hour though, as when we came to start the engine, it ran for perhaps 15-20 seconds and then stopped; we found and cleared an air bubble from the injection-pump, though no idea how it got there, the engine’s run fine for months and no repeat of the problem since? After scouting around the outer bay for better alternatives we eventually returned to where we were back at the north end, though with a couple of boats having left – one due to it dragging onto the reef early on Sunday morning, it’d probably have caught us on the way past if we’d stayed! – we managed to find a little more space and especially kept clear of the Canadian yacht, who was still shouting the odds at anyone who dared to encroach on his anchor zone
As we’ve often found with those types (predominantly North American flagged boats) besides wanting an area extending the whole length of his anchor chain leaving clear, he’d also deployed what we’ve come to term an ‘octopus-anchor’ too. They were very popular in the Bahamas and on the US East coast: from what we’ve seen we believe that they must move around on the seabed so that irrespective of where any subsequently arriving yacht tries to drops their anchor, that is invariably the precise spot to which the octopus-anchor has just moved. As with others we’ve seen before, eventually – usually when they’ve gone so far as to claim that their anchor’s deployed somewhere well to one side of them (a good trick in strong winds) – everyone gets pissed-off with them and ignores their ranting; with the yachties being predominantly French around here, that doesn’t take too long either.
After another couple of windy and wet/squally days we finally got a weather forecast that promised things were due to improve, with the wind not so much ‘easing’ as stopping completely from Sunday and unlikely to return (from which direction I wonder?) for at least a week. So, options are to stay here – boring. Return to Opunopu Bay – boring, but at least with internet. Or head back to Tahiti, as that’s now just another 10M back to our east. Tahiti provides options at least, so we got everything restowed on Saturday morning and used the last of the winds (a lively F5) to scoot back across the Tahit/Moorea channel, skilfully (or perhaps luckily?) steering a course between the worst of the rain squalls, to re-anchor once again just north of Marina Taina.