The Log Book
Tales of an Artist Afloat
Swimming with whales
I'm sitting outside on deck at Huahine, the first of the Leeward Islands. Someone ashore is playing the ukelele, there's some beautiful singing and the sun is coming up, making the water glow teal and gold. We arrived here from Moorea yesterday after a fast but rocky overnight passage- both seasickness and the number of freighters to dodge increased after dark.
Jim’s brother Bill has come to stay with us for a fortnight. We're enjoying having someone else on board, and he's being very tolerant of the cozy conditions on Prism and my tendency to draw lots!
We took Prism round to Haapiti, a gorgeous anchorage with a renowned surf wave breaking on the reef by the pass. Prism anchored on a spit of white sand near a sharp slope, surrounding us with every conceivable colour of blue, and had an incredible view of Moorea’s towering peaks. Eagle rays and sting rays cruised past the boat regularly, and in the pass we snorkeled with turtles and reef fish, and regularly sighted the resident pod of common dolphins, numbering about 50.
Lacking a board, we couldn't surf the wave, but Jim enjoyed swimming round the edges whilst I floated in the dinghy and watched the surfers. Huge waves leave me a bit wary, but I was very happy swimming through the more tranquil turquoise waters to get back to Prism.
Once again it all seemed idyllic- until a man decided I really needed to see his private parts when I was on the dock. He made it very clear what he'd like me to do next, and though he never tried to touch me I was very happy when the dinghy engine started straight away and I could get back to Prism. The dock was secluded and I was nervous about going back by myself, so poor Jim and his ankles were forced to make the traipse to the store with me, in between applying paint and new anti-skid to the cockpit floor (and playing in the waves whilst we waited for layers to dry).
Our cruise back round to Opuhonu Bay brought back Moorea’s wow factor. The pod of dolphins were out in force as we left Haapiti, and we saw a pair of humpback whales not far from the entrance to the pass. We were watching them when a huge whale breached near Prism, in an amazing explosion of water and animal. He remained airbourne for a surprising amount of time, reentering with a huge plume of foam. And then he floated, serene after his huge expulsion of energy. I hopped in the water and he slowly swam towards me- and started singing. He looked at me as he swam past, then dove down into the blue. I stayed, hanging in the water, listening to his song long after he had vanished from sight.
Rounding the northwest corner of the island we found more whales - a mother and calf this time. It was Jim’s turn to swim, so he joined a group of snorkelers from one of the commercial tour boats. The baby was in playful mode, waving flukes and fins out of the water, totally unconcerned by the little creatures floating nearby. It was enchanting to watch, even from the distance of the boat. Eventually mother stuck her tail above the water and gave the sea a gentle slap- a sign that playtime was over. She and her little one dove and we continued on our way, buzzing from our amazing encounters.
We stocked the fridge with ice and relaxed for a few days before we returned to Tahiti to collect Bill. Our whale adventures were not over, however. As we cruised east, the mother and baby appeared again. Jim got Prism out the way whilst I swam over. The little one eyed the swimmers with curiosity whilst mum hovered nearby. They made a short dive and returned to the surface, where the calf had a short rest on mum's nose before flopping off and playfully flapping his fins in the air. He swam close to check out this strange creature in the water with him, before returning to mum’s side to play some more. We decided to leave them in peace and continued on our way- to meet another individual who greeted us with a spectacular breach, followed by a massive tail lob. We admired the theatrics from a safe distance- tail lobs are probably warning behaviour- and continued to Tahiti where laundry, bike shopping and supermarkets awaited us.
We reprovisioned, collected Bill and returned to Moorea. The whales gave him a brilliant welcome- a mother and calf were resting under the water, occasionally popping up to breathe. They were shallow enough to be visible from the surface, and weren't worried by our presence during their surface intervals. Taking turns to keep Prism at a safe distance, we hung in the water and watched them relaxing, the calf feeding and snuggling up to its mum beneath us.
Our attempts to go hiking were impaired by rain, and in the end we decided to attempt the Ancestors’ Trail despite the regular showers. Sometimes it felt like we were walking through a stream, and the cascades alongside the trail were swollen, but the path was well maintained and safe so we had no difficultly reaching the marae and the lookout up at the Belvedere. The fickle weather chose that moment to give us a sunny spell, with the clouds fringing the dramatic view over Cooks and Opunohu Bays.
We restocked the fridge with ice, bought some of the delicious fresh fruit available on Moorea and pointed Prism towards Huahine, an overnight sail. Jim extolled the wonderful trade winds, but wave trains from the south and the easy threw Prism about and created an uncomfy ride. Luckily a bout of seasickness did not impair my ability to keep watch- a freighter approached and changed on to a collision course, but did not seem to notice us or respond to our hails on the radio. We can only assume that the crew were asleep or lazy, and we'd turned on all the deck lights and should have been showing in their AIS system. A gybe took us out of harm's way, and we continued on course when the snoozing vessel had passed. More freighters and cruise ships followed, all maintaining a healthy distance. The sea calmed a little around dawn and I managed to get a little sleep before Jim brought us through the pass to anchor near the little town of Fare, where we have a whole new island to explore.
Whales and waterfalls
It's been a busy week here on Prism! We bought Jim a bike and left Papeete, initially for the Tahiti Yacht Club on the north west side of the island. There's a decent anchorage nearby, nicely protected by the barrier reef. It turns out that we dropped the hook near to the finish line for the outrigger canoe racing on Saturday mornings- so enjoyed a few hours of drinking coffee and watching the races. Of course, I pulled out my sketchbook and attempted the challenge of capturing the blur of limbs as the paddles moved through the water. We also enjoyed some great music from the drumming school on shore.
Our plan was to explore some of the sights of the north coast. There was only one problem- hills. Big ones. I will walk up hills if they are in my way, but am almost allergic to cycling up them. But if I was going to see anything of Tahiti, I needed to try, as weekend buses are only slightly more common than unicorns round here. Our first excursion was to Point Venus and Matavai Bay, where Cook went to help measure the distance from the Earth to the Sun and Captain Bligh and his soon-to-be-mutineers went gathering breadfruit. The call of history helped me up the hill when I thought my legs were going to fall off, and the views from the top and the freewheel down the other side almost made it worth it.
Point Venus was a pretty spot, with monuments to Cook and Bligh and an attractive lighthouse designed by Robert Louis Stevenson’s dad. We ate lunch on a shady picnic table, enjoyed the swathe of black sand and cooled off in the rain, which inevitably fell halfway through every sketch (my drawings now have an interesting speckled effect). It rained all the way home- which did make tackling the hill cooler- and Jim scored a haul of mangos from a roadside stall.
The following day we tackled that hill again, and found a few others beyond. This time, my motivation was the Three Cascades, a group of waterfalls 22km from Papeete- so about 20km away from us. This time my foldup bike and I complained less as we tackled the first hill, though by the time we’d gone 18km (up numerous hills and into a stiff headwind), I was wondering if my legs would fall off before we made it. Which was of course the sign for yet another hill to go up. Hills aside, the scenery was rugged and spectacular, the ocean bobbing with surfers enjoying the beach breaks on a Sunday, then warming up on the black sands.
Somehow I made it- to find that the sign for the turn-off was labeled ‘ferme’. A 20km cycle and our destination was shut? We pedaled up the road to the falls anyway, in the hope that SOMETHING might be visible from the road. We saw two falls tumbling down the sheer hillsides- and a steady trail of people ignoring the ‘closed’ sign and walking to the falls anyway. Normally I'm pretty rule-following, but I'd just cycled a very long way (with hills and headwind, in case you'd forgotten), and was in no mood to behave myself. And Jim never behaves, so we slipped over the low slung piece of bamboo barring the way.
It turned out that the falls I'd seen from the road were not the main attraction- they were shrimpy distant cousins. The Vaimahuta falls were 80 metres of tumbling water, sparkling in the sun, fringed with lacy ferns and dripping with moss. White tropicbirds swooped past, elegantly long tails gliding like banners behind them. Tourists came and went, I sketched, it rained, my ink ran, falling water on my waterfall. I wished I had the skill and knowledge to show how the sun made the rain sparkle like diamonds before it hit my paper.
I took the gently winding trail to the second and third falls, Haamaremare Rahi and Haamaremare Iti. Two different watercourses pour themselves down opposite sides of a huge rocky outcrop, both clearly visible from the viewpoint. I listened to the water, the birds and the falling red leaves. I drew, watched and listened. The rain stayed away and I absorbed the tranquility.
My legs made it to the nearby blowholes, then somehow got me home. A rest day was in order (I had paintings to finish), then we set sail for Moorea. We had a beautiful downwind trip and Prism flew along. We anchored at Cooks Bay (a misnomer as the famed Captain actually went to neighbouring Opunohu Bay), and went ashore for ice cream. A family were sitting in the beach, having a sing song, and invited us to join them. They played guitar, ukelele, drums and spoons, the adults teaching the children to keep the beat as they wove rhythms. Our musical talents are lacking but we added applause, and played with the puppy who chewed our toes. A thank you song as the sun dipped and we went our separate ways, glowing with the warm welcome.
I'd started this page by drawing Prism, then sketched the family, then decided to combine it all together. cross hatched shadows try to hide the fact that the legs had gone horribly wrong, and I ended up choosing a limited palette of cobalt teal and quin gold to try to bring some semblance of unity to the thing. I actually like the way the light turned out
The next day we sailed to Õpūnohu Bay- where Captain Cook visited Moorea. It's a spectacular anchorage, with a white sandy bottom and a fringing reef protecting it. We were greeted by a large pod of dolphins, who returned to see us every time we entered or exited the reef pass. Ashore is a lovely white sand beach with decent snorkeling off it. The mountains tower over it, changing colour with the light. I didn't need to leave Prism to get lots of inspiration for sketching!
We did spend a lot of time exploring on land. I got my legs in gear and we cycled up to the Belvedere for amazing views over both bays. My legs didn't like me much but my eyes were very happy. The route up winds its way through an agricultural college, where we stopped for home made ice cream and large glasses of mango juice to refresh us for the rest of the slog upwards. Above the college are a series of archaeological sites, sensitively restored. We found ceremonial sites, an archery platform and a marae, constructed out of round rocks and sacred to ‘Oro, the god of war. Nestled amongst the buttresses of mapē trees, the area was special enough to encourage me to cycle up again the next day and walk the Ancestor Trail, through beautiful forest scattered with ancient ruins and reconstructions of traditional Polynesian buildings- plus the occasional lovely waterfall and hundreds of chickens. Brought over with the Polynesians for food, these days they run free as most people prefer the tender chicken offered by the supermarket.
One morning we were awoken at 4 by the sound of an engine stuttering and stalling. I worried that someone was in trouble. Jim worried that someone was stealing the dinghy. We rushed outside to find humpback whales cruising through the anchorage, chatting to each other with broken engine sounds. Nobody needed rescuing and we watched them as they swam away through the middle of the busy anchorage in 5 metres of water. I couldn't get back to sleep, but really couldn't complain too much about the cetacean alarm clock.
The following day, I spent the morning painting a whale in the bay. Lunch time rolled around, with a small gaggle of whale watching boats floating not far from the bay. Following a tip from Cinnabar, our neighbours, we hopped in the dinghy and motored out to see if we could get a daylight whale sighting. One of the tour boats approached us, I was expecting them to try to shoo us away but they kindly offered to look after the dinghy so we could both swim. In the water we went, towards the snorkelers and the two humpbacks resting in the water. We watched them blowing spray into the air for a while, then they started to move- swimming right past me. The white underbelly, tail and fins of the nearest whale were clearly visible underwater as it dove and finned down into the depths. Ten minutes later they were back, quite a way off this time, but we were treated to a spectacular double dive. We saw them twice more, once at a distance and once close up. The boats and occasional visiting jet skis all kept well away, and had their engines off whilst the whales were nearby. We stayed on the land side of the whales at all times so they would not feel cut off from the open ocean. After the fourth surfacing, we all headed off to leave the whales in solitude for a while. I was impressed with how the encounter was handled, and awed at actually being in the water with these amazing animals.
The next day was Monday. The best way to spend a morning seemed to be with a visit to the Rotui distillery, where we tasted their excellent fruit juices and rum punch. We can't play all the time though, and spent the afternoon giving Prism’s hull a much-needed scrub. Some of the algae was very hard to remove- Jim tried using a tough, spiky seaweed as a bio-friendly scrubber but sadly results were below par and we resorted to one of the scoring pads from the kitchen instead. By the time we'd finished, hull, keel, rudder and propeller were all pristine and we'd earned ourselves a glass of the fruit juice we'd bought from the distillery as we watched yet another gorgeous sunset.
10% off at my Etsy shop!
My Etsy shop has reopened and to celebrate, and thank you all for following the sailing adventures so far, I'm offering 10% off all original paintings until 13 September. Use the code TAHITINUI or follow the link https://www.etsy.com/nz/shop/AndreaEnglandArt?coupon=TAHITINUI to have the code preapplied! Easiest of all- just click on the button below!
We've had a rather mixed stay in Papeete. Having Jim’s wallet stolen off the boat was a major frustration, as was being sent on numerous wild goose chases around the wider town as we tried to get Jim’s carte de sejour to extend his stay here (fyi- go to the Haute Commissaire, NOT border police). And waiting for the new bank cards to slowly make their way from Canada by courier was agonising. But there are bright sides- Papeete is a colourful town where one of the great pleasures is watching the world go by.
My highlight in the city has been the market. It opens every day, full of stores selling clothes, handicrafts, long skinny pods of Tahitian vanilla, tropical fruits and huge bunches of vibrant exotic flowers. Along one side are ladies making lei, beautiful floral crowns of bougainvillea, spikey leaves and fragrant cream tiare. They smell as wonderful as they look- a contrast to the fish section, where silvery trevally, emerald parrotfish and slabs of red tuna nestle on beds of ice, and the air smells of the sea.
On Sundays the market really comes alive. The vegetable stalls spill out from the covered market onto the surrounding streets, interspersed with stalls selling pain au chocolate, cinnamon swirls, and coconutty fried fiafia in their distinctive figure of eights. Chinese butchers weigh out portions of chopped pork, and tourist stalls are replaced with tables laden with dim sum, samosas, honey and passionfruit. The rest of the town is shut, and by 9 am the market too will have dispersed. The streets will be deserted, everyone either at home or relaxing with family in the Jardin de Paofai.
The gardens stretch along the waterfront, another city highlight. Paths link activities along the fitness trail, then wind past lily ponds and children's playgrounds. Shady benches are the perfect place for lunch, and if you're planning a party you can hire a covered picnic area- bring your own pizza or raw fish salad, get the cousins to bring their ukuleles and make sure that everyone sports a lei, or at least a flower behind the ear.
It's been a great place to sketch. When I'm drawing lots I work through my little 40 page sketch books quite quickly, and it was time for a new book. The paper swiftly proved a terrible choice for watercolour, absorbing the colour and making a wash impossible. My Noodlers pen blotted as the ink was sucked out of it, and everything seemed keen to soak through and appear as ghostly smears in the next page. I didn't care about this book- in fact I actively disliked it- so embarked on a week of intensive sketching so I could finish it and move on to something with nicer paper. The book soon filed up with people- my ambivalent attitude towards it meant I didn't care if my blind contour went wrong, if I had to turn the page and start again. So when Wolfram pulled out his guitar and began playing, I drew pages of him, accompanied by song lyrics. I sketched in the park and at the market and drew the ladies working on their leis. A ‘rubbish book’ may need to become a permanent part of my travellers sketchbook- somewhere I can scribble and scrawl and practice, practice, practice.
People have reacted wonderfully to my drawings. Wolfram took a sketch home with him, the waitress at the roulotte where I drew as I dined was very excited and gave me little hugs through the meal, and a gentleman who saw me drawing at Trois Brasseurs presented me with his phone and asked me to draw his friend, a dancer (she's the lady in red below). He bought a pitcher of beer in thanks, which made me very popular with our cruising friends. My squiggly sketches of the dancer in yellow, done as she performed for a group of tourists off a cruise ship, were also well received (for the record, Tahitian dancers are amazing but they move so fast- drawing them from a photo is definitely easier! ).
Jim’s cards have arrived and we got his immigration paperwork sorted, so we're now free to cruise again. We're going to explore the northern side of Tahiti and probably head over to Moorea. I've enjoyed our ten days in a marina - the warm showers have been a definite bonus- and we've loved meandering down to the food trucks at the Place de Roulottes, but we haven't seen a shark in a while now and it’s time to be out at anchor! Off we go to the next step of the adventure!
An Artist Afloat- Painting the world one anchorage at a time.