Wednesday 10th July saw another beautiful morning with light winds and sunny weather. We were up fairly early as whilst the passage to Ouano was only about 30nm, the entrance was narrow and basically a slalom course between sand bars and coral outcrops. The entrance was well marked and our friends had regularly traversed it in their 80 foot boat, so it should not be a problem. However, we still wanted to arrive with lots of daylight left. We therefore had the anchor up and stowed by 0830.

As with the previous day, the first part of the passage was primarily under motor with the main as a steadying sail. The passage was still within the lagoon, so flat calm water. If anything the islands on the landward side were even less inhabited than heading to Ile Mattheu. The lagoon gets gradually narrower as it goes north and, indeed, Ouano is about as far north as the lagoon is navigable. As it got narrower, it also got shallower. The lagoon was still easily navigable by us in Tai Mo Shan. However, the outer reef and coasts of the islands were getting closer. As the day developed so did the wind and we were able to unfurl the foresail and progressively reduce motor revs as the power in the sails increased. By lunchtime we were purely sailing. It was lovely watching the beautiful scenery slip by with only the low booming of the surf and quiet hiss of moving water to accompany it. We only saw one other boat, a yacht tacking into wind (i.e. doing it the hard way zigzagging up the channel turning just before the edging reefs). We had the wind behind us, so we able to hold a course on a run with the sails ‘poled and prevented’.

The highlight was when one of our trolling lines went tight. We could clearly hear the click as the line pulled through the pegs we use as bite indicators. We slowly hauled in the hand line. There was obviously something on it, and it was swimming, but the camouflage in the fish skin was so good we could not see it until it was almost at the boat. And there it was, a nice Spanish Mackerel weighing about 5 kg. It was soon aboard, despatched and filleted; 3 nice meals in the freezer bags (literally!).

We arrived at the entrance to Ouano lagoon early afternoon, about 1400 or so. With the bright sun we could easily see into the water and so this was an ideal time to enter. As we turned the corner transitioned from a run to a broad reach to reach and then into wind, progressively dropping sails as we went. So, motor on we headed in.

The channel to Ouano starts a few hundred metres wide with beacons marking the port and starboard ends. It then funnels down to a passage no more than 80m wide. This is marked by alternating green (starboard) and red (port) posts. These show the extent of the sand shoals or coral banks. And of course, the path in is not straight with slight but significant turns required at each mark. In we went. Fortunately we could see into the water, and so see where the sand or coral extended beyond the posts, in at least one case by a good 15m. So carefully and steadily we made the 200m or so into the Ouano lagoon. We also missed the unmarked (but to be fair, charted) coral patch just inside the lagoon.

Once in the lagoon we headed past the 80 foot ‘Bunty’; still moored in the lagoon despite having been sold by our friends a couple of years ago. We also passed a couple of small yachts at moorings and then anchored in some 4m of water. The wind was blowing quite forcefully and the big lagoon did not offer much to reduce the wind. However the lagoon was shallow and edged by mangroves so there was little movement in the water. Dinner that night was, of course, fish and chips!

We headed ashore the next morning. Ouano, or more correctly Ouano Beach, boasts a small slipway and wharf, parking area, deserted yacht club hangar, and perhaps half a dozen fisherman’s huts. Still, the parking area had several vehicles and trailers. We stopped and talked to a couple of young men. They were waiting for their friend and his boat, and were then going to go surfing. We said that the only surf was on the outer reef, and that it was big, bold and unforgiving. Oh yes, was there smiling replies!

Our friends had mentioned a Japanese restaurant ashore, somewhere nearby. The exact location was lost in translation. So we wandered along the only road heading away from the wharf. This followed the lagoon edge, past the fisherman’s huts. These were surprisingly presentable with vehicles and boats outside. We commented that the fishing seemed to provide a reasonable income. A few hundred metres further on and we passed a boat yard. Well, a fenced yard with a dozen assorted boats on trailers, guarded by a (friendly!) barking dog. A little further was a fenced campsite/surf camp/collection of chalets. The gate had a shiny padlock and stainless steel chain, and sign saying private, but also was open and had a blank coca-cola blackboard. The sign by the side of the gate labelled the site the Surf Camp, had website addresses and ‘Japanese cuisine’ at the bottom. Naturally we wandered along the entrance track through into the well-kept garden area past the chalets. All was quiet; indeed locked up. We then came to a single storey wooden and thatched structure with a mountain bike outside. There were two people in there, Patrick and Kona. We asked about food, and yes they were open! It was still only late morning, about 1100, so we talked a while (in broken French/English although to be fair Patrick and Kona’s English was pretty good – unlike Paul’s French!). We said we wanted to continue walking and exploring but would be back for lunch.

We walked on along the road until a noticeboard advertised a side road to a car park and observation post. Of more interest to Paul, it also showed a path up the nearby hill that, although only 100m or so high, dominated the skyline and promised some nice views. So observation post first. This was a wooden platform on the coast, perhaps some 10m above sea level. Standing on it offered a great view of the shallow water that formed the coastal fringe. This water, probably less than one metre deep was, of course, over a coral bed and we could clearly see the coral patches amongst the sand as the shallow water extended out nearly one mile to a narrow deeper channel, and then another reef with a tiny islet on it. The channel we came down was on the other side of the islet, some 2 nm away. Well, this is a coral lagoon!

Having taken in the view, we headed back down the steps. We had noticed the land crab holes along the way (indeed, they are prevalent through the pacific islands and New Caledonia is no exception). However, one was different. A brown banded sea snake had come ashore and was sliding into the hole in search of lunch. We watched for a while, staying a good distance away. Unfortunately we could not tell if the hole was occupied, or the outcome of the meeting between snake and occupant (presumably a crab) if it was.

At the base of the hill Helen decided it was too hot to ascend, she therefore headed back to the Japanese camp site/chalet/surf camp. Paul headed up the hill. The noticeboard stated an ascent of 100m over about 500m length, with the round trip taking about 45 minutes. 15 minutes saw Paul at the top (OK, a he was little bit hot!). The views were indeed magnificent and well worth the climb. 20 odd minutes later Paul joined Helen at the camp site/chalet/surf camp. Cold drinks followed (Fanta for Helen local beer for Paul). Patrick and Kona had taken over the camp some 3 years ago, having moved from France. They had 3 boys at the local school in La Foa, some 20km away. That meant two return trips there each day, a hassle but worth it for the lifestyle. Patrick offered us a lift in to do some shopping; however, the car would already have been full with Patrick driving and 3 boys as passengers. We declined. La Foa itself was pretty small but had the essentials of school, medical clinic, fuel and shops. When we asked about the surf Patrick laughed, he did not really surf, they just had not changed the name yet. His plan was to install an overhead pull water ski system on the adjacent saline pond. In the meanwhile the camp was mostly used at the weekends. Of course, it was winter now, so a little quiet. However, summer was also not a busy as we thought. Apparently the area is plagued by mosquitoes and other biting insects; an almost theatrical curse on a beautiful location.

Kona, who was Japanese, cooked the food. Pork and shrimp filled dumplings with ginger and soy sauces for Helen, and pork schnitzel with a teriyaki type sauce for Paul, both accompanied by chips and a salad. The portions were large for lunch and the food was delicious. Like all things New Caledonian it was a little pricey, but well worth it. So we recommend it for those passing by Ouano Beach.

A stroll back to the wharf and then back to Tai Mo Shan. And as the light faded out came the mosquitoes. We set up out net curtains and burned coils but still suffered a few bites. And that was winter. Our thoughts returned back to horror stories of isolated places overrun by night-time horrors, such as mosquitoes!

That was Ouano Beach. The next day we had another 30nm passage to another interesting entrance at Port Bourail.

Picture: Ouano Beach from the hill. The camp, huts and wharf are centre left. The lagoon with anchored/moored boats is in the middle, with the entrance from the left. It was high tide, so lots of water, not much of it deep enough for a yacht.