Society Islands Part 3: Mantas in Maupiti

Underway at sunrise, the seas were calm and the winds light, allowing for a “productive passage” of bread-baking, laundry, and water-making.  The entry into the Maupiti lagoon via its one pass, Onoiau, can be tricky and was somewhat exciting.  One cannot enter the pass unless there is less than a 2 meter swell; we had a 1.7 m swell.  The pass is not visible until you are almost right on top of it, among crashing surf on either side, with range markers to line up.  Though it was a bit nerve-wracking, it went smoothly with many channel markers and we were safely inside the magnificent lagoon.

Maupiti, with a population of 1,230, has become our favorite of the Society Islands with its shimmering lagoon of every shade of blue, sleepy town with one road and virtually no cars (mostly bikes), and stunning peaks.  The mountainous island is surrounded by a wide, but shallow, lagoon fringed with five palm-covered motu. 

We anchored off town, then dinked in to pick up food at numerous Magasins (about 6 small ones here) and returned home to a boat cleaned by the kids!  Along our exploration, we happened upon a Heiva site and pop-up restaurants, returned for dinner poisson cru and the dance spectacle. 

Feeling the drumbeats resonate through the ground into my chest, I was overwhelmed with a feeling of thankfulness that our children are having this unique experience out here on a remote island in the middle of the Pacific on a boat we sailed here. 

Later in the week, we attended one of the Heiva competitions, heavy rock lifting, as men and women hoisted the massive rocks from the ground up to their shoulder.  It hurt our backs just watching them. 

The locals build 4-5 restaurants every year at the Heiva site, weaving palm frond walls and decorating with colorful fabrics and shells; they are quite elaborate to be up for only 3 months.

Next day, off to town to find the produce truck that supposedly comes to the parking lot by City Hall on Fridays around 7am…or 9am.  One local just shrugged, laughed and said, “Sometimes there, sometimes not.”  Today was a sometimes not sort of day.  We did succeed in finding 2 bottles of white wine (dusty bottles, but I can always use it for cooking), 2 cans of peas, 2 bags of rice, 2 fresh delicious baguettes at the hardware store, and a chunk of fish sold by a woman on the side of the road that we think is wahoo (much to Calder’s embarrassment – we bought fish!), and a pair of earrings made with tiny urchin spines from a local woman.  So, no produce, but I’d call the trip a win! 

We rented colorful one-speed road cruising bicycles (with baskets of course) to bike around the island.  I felt like a little kid, carefree, Mary Poppins style.   Many artists here sell their art out of their homes along the road, and the kids purchased coin purses made of coconut shells and oyster mother-of-pearl. 

Out to Tereia Beach and the very end of the road, before turning toward the 20% grade hill with signs not to ride one’s bike down due to the steep pitch (and questionable brakes of our bikes!). 

At a turtle rock carving, a local family was present who explained the meaning of the rock to us, then gifted Cora with flowers for her hair.  Of course, we ended the adventure with ice cream.

This island is utterly delightful.  Women with music playing from a boombox walk along the sides of the road, cleaning up any trash and raking the sand neatly.  Bikes are everywhere.  A man went past on an electric bike with a very long fruit-picking pole dragging behind him, the basket holding a gigantic breadfruit.  Everyone calls out “la orana” (hello) and we call back to them.  We often say “mauruuru” (thank you) as well.  The locals don’t have a communal cemetery and, for cultural reasons and custom, rather bury their family members in the front yard.  There are many raised cement crypts in front of the homes, beautifully decorated and protected under awnings.  Tradition is that the family members buried on their property will protect the rest of the family. 

The ascent of Mount Teurafaatiu (380 m) was a bit vigorous and assisted by ropes, but mostly shaded, and the view at the summit was well worth the effort.  It was so stellar, we did it again later in the week.

Manta mornings (and later evenings) are my favorite times of the day.  Manta rays are large rays, reaching from 18-23 feet in length.  They are considered highly intelligent, with the largest brains of all fish and can pass the mirror test (self-recognition).  They are filter feeders and eat large quantities of zooplankton, which they gather with their gargantuan open mouths as they swim.  We dinghied over to a “manta cleaning station,” where manta rays rest near coral bommies, the small fish cleaning their bodies of parasites and dead skin in a form of symbiosis.  They will maintain a nearly stationary position atop a coral patch for several minutes while being cleaned, sometimes “flinching” if the cleaner wrasse nips them a bit, which we saw.  As one massive manta flew through the water directly under me, I found myself moving my arms up and down in the same pattern of their rays, having a manta moment.  We saw one pair that appeared to be a mama and baby.  By going back numerous mornings, we had different experiences of this magical fish. 

At night, in our underwater lights, mantas did back flips and large sea snakes wandered over.  They came so close we were able to identify their gender and the specific manta by their markings.  Every night, the mantas came and increased in number.  I finally grew brave enough (with the help of friends) to go swimming with them in the dark – so magical underwater in the lights, gorging themselves on phytoplankton as they did acrobatic moves.  They are so curious and social, and they would go from the port to the starboard swimsteps, reaching up for the people as if they were asking to be stroked.    For me, Maupiti has been one of the most magical spots, largely due to these magnificent creatures.

A few days of higher winds and rain gave us the opportunity to hunker down, work on projects, and do school between squalls with gusts up to 35 knots.  Our water catchment system also worked well.  We are completing the final lessons and tests from 6^th and 8^th grade, moving on to 7^th and 9^th grade in the next couple weeks.

Upon arrival here, the ATM was not working and the supply barge had not come in, resulting in the small Magasins having sparse shelves.  I had not provisioned adequately at our last stop due to “COVID brain,” and was wondering how I was going to feed my family for the next 1-2 months underway to Tonga.  Thankfully, the ATM started working, and the supply barge arrived in town.  The man who owned one store laughed at my excitement about finding protein sources (local parrotfish, chicken, and more beans).  He called us “Alaska” when we entered his store.   Beer and toilet paper were other finds, the simple joys.  We found other sources of food scattered here and there – a lady selling mangos, morning baguettes and loaves of bread, and a farmer’s truck with produce.  The market was to start at 7-9am, maybe…at 9am, a truck pulled up.   There was a definite pecking order, of which I was at the bottom (understandably).  First, the local restaurants received their pre-ordered produce.  Next, the locals had their turn.  Finally, us cruisers could peruse what was left.  I was thankful for bags of eggplant, green peppers, and bok choy.  When the eggs ran out, a local called me over and insisted that I take hers; so generous.  We also supplemented with dinners out, enjoying the poison cru the most, but also having to eat the other two meals people eat regularly in French Polynesia, steak frites and chow mein.

For better or worse, we watched a perfect weather window (and all the other anchored boats here) move along…in the name of friends!  The kids were so excited to have three other boats arrive with families we have greatly enjoyed, the excitement building as we watched them appear on our AIS entering the lagoon.

And we played hard – beach happy hours, ultimate frisbee, biked around the islands again (walking in the shallow sand almost to the outlying motu), ice cream, enjoying our final French Polynesia poisson cru, the kids arm wrestling and playing football (soccer) with the local kids, wing foiling practice, after-dinner mantas, and hiking up the mountain again. 

They also brought us eggs and fresh produce from Bora Bora.  I can feed our family more than tinned food!  We will continue to move along with this crew to New Zealand.

Calder’s 15^th birthday was celebrated with a big breakfast, tow-foiling, beach play and cake with other boat families, and an after-dinner manta experience, where one came up to the swim step he was on and reached toward him. 

Chris completed many projects in Mauputi:  He put new chain markers on the anchor chain every 25 feet and replaced the windlass control cord.  He started with the simple task of replacing the chain stripper (since Kon Tiki 10 weeks ago) that forces the chain out of the gypsy when bringing up the anchor – without it, we have had to pull it out by hand which is not only a pain, but dangerous.  One of the stainless bolts that held the chain stripper into the base of the aluminum anchor windlass was severely corroded and sheared off, which then led to the entire removal of the anchor windlass from the deck, a massive disassembly, cleaning, drilling, retapping, and reinstalling.  Sounds like a typical boat project, 15-minute job turned into a 15-hour job! 

Next, Chris dove into the engines.  He installed new air filters, as well as completed oil and fuel filter changes on the engines and transmissions.  Most importantly and involved, he rebuilt the raw water pumps on both engines, which have been slowly leaking.   This involved removing the pump, cleaning it, replacing the shaft, all seals, and the bearings.  Next, on to the generator…removed and cleaned the heat exchanger (which was leaking), replaced the oil pressure sensor (which had been compromised by the leak), serviced the raw water pump…running great! 

Wait, time for another project – servicing our 4 main winches, which involved taking them apart, cleaning them, greasing and oiling all internal parts and gears, and putting them back together.

I was a bit sentimental this morning on my last French Polynesia baguette run, as we move on the remote atoll of Maupihaa about 100 nm away.  We leave here carrying… many memories, a load of supplies, and a local grandmother…but you’ll have to wait for that story…