The Tuomotus

Stretched out halfway between the Marquises and the Society Islands the Tuamotos is a natural stop for boats following the trade winds through French Polynesia. It is one of the most remote areas on earth, 77 sparsely populated atolls thrown out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, thousands of miles from the closest continent.  The atolls are their own worlds; 15- 30-mile wide lagoons fringed by coral reefs and coconut islands called motus, ruled by the wind and the sea

Half of the atolls have openings from the ocean to the lagoons, making them accessible to vessels.  Standing waves and tides up to 8 knots blast through the passes and it is best to enter at slack tide in good light.

The abundance of coral reefs, sudden weather tantrums, strong currents and scant protections has earned the Tuamotus its name: “The dangerous archipelago”. GPS, Satellite-weather, tide-tables and Google Earth have made things easier, but boaters still wreck on the unforgiving corral and get rattled in choppy anchorages on lee shores.

Leaving the Marquises, we reach our first atoll, Raroia, June 1, 2019. There are standing waves in the pass and we wait for slack tide. Once through, we jib sail across the lagoon on the look out for coral heads.  Bommies stretch up 100 feet from the bottom to the surface but are easy to see in in good light. 

Under anchor we immediately loose ourselves in turquoise, crystal clear water, pink coral sand banks, and the roar of the ocean crashing on to the outer reef. It is a unique piece of wilderness.

 A continuous corral shelf stretches along the ocean side. The wind howls and we walk for miles on broken coral, weathered white and bone like. Each step clatters, like walking on glass. I collect pink seashells, purple sea-anemone spikes and gnarly weathered wood. Bill walks, spear in hand, hunting for lobster and octopus.

We wade across emerald tinted streaming rivulets, alert as six-foot white tipped sharks cut the surface. It is like walking in an aquarium, watching colorful reef fish and patches of coral.

We cut through the islet to get back to the lagoon, weaving our way between palm trees, piles of coconuts and fallen palm fronds. Most islands are farmed for copra part of the year and we see tin shacks and old hearths.

Grocery stores and Wi-Fi signals are few and far apart in the Tuomotus. We check for weather and e-mail once a day through our satellite connection and stock up when we find a grocery store. Removed from civilization our sense of freedom is tangible.  Lacking the chatter and speed of modern life allows us to open our senses to the beauty around and soar.

Running low on fresh food our hunter-gatherer instincts stir. We catch land crabs and eat crab pasta, crab cakes and crab dip for the next two weeks, find spider- conchs and make conch fritter, and  kill a large octopus swimming along the shore. The octopus is beautiful and fluid. Bill spears it and black ink spreads in the water. I skin and tenderize the meat and at night we enjoy octopus coconut curry.

For the next 3 months we move between different atolls. Occasionally we hide from bad weather in the lee of the motus and wait. One weather system pounds us with winds from 30 -45 knots for a week in an unnerving sequel of squalls and choppy seas.

 Makemo has the largest town and a population, 850 people. We arrive during their yearly Heiva, a one-week festival, where four neighboring atolls compete in basketball, hitting a coconut with a javelin, outrigger racing, and dancing. There is even a beauty contest one evening.  It is a wonderful community event bursting withcolor, drumming and local food.

The passes in to the atolls offer excellent diving and we snorkel and dive most cuts. Fakarava has the best-known dive spot and we join an armada of dinghies and divers at slack tide to drift dive the incoming tide. Bill suits up in scuba gear and descends to 90 feet while I snorkel the pass. He encounters a wall of sharks in the deep, hides in a cave and can almost touch a curious eight foot grey shark.

In the Toumotus we find our first buddy boats, a pod hailing from Brittain, Switzerland and South Africa. After a month there are 5 of us coordinating our movements, and enjoying, fires on the beach, potluck dinners, and birthday parties. We share boat parts, trade groceries, discuss weather, and exchange beer for dive tank fills.

Time moves slowly and the sky overflows with stars. Life is good.

We plan to stay until the beginning of September and sail to Tahiti and the Society Islands the last two months of this season. We will be back in touch at our next brush with the Internet.