Pacific Ocean French Polynesia Tuamotu Archipelago Tahanea Atoll
This uninhabited atoll in the Tuamotus is an incredible celebration of colors between sky and sea. Here we felt a rare and exhilarating sense of infinite freedom. Alone in the world, far from everything, but near to incredible happiness. Brilliant sunshine, scenery of dreams, an unending swimming pool in nature. Also at Tahanea we carried out some interesting tests on the behavior of reef sharks… Located some 50 miles south east of Fakarava Atoll, you enter by the Teavatapu pass. Then you need to sail towards the southeast to the interior of the lagoon for a dozen or so miles threading your wake through the coral formations. It is easier, to reach the anchorage, to follow round the edge of the coral ring, dotted with numerous motus. And then if, like us, you go back to the pass by cutting directly across the lagoon, it’s essential you have somebody keeping a lookout from the spreaders…
Indian Ocean South Africa Western Cape Province Knysna Lagoon
You don’t get anything for nothing in this world. I must warn you: the pass (known as the Heads) into the lagoon at Knysna (located around 500 kilometers east of Cape Town) is classed as one of the eight most dangerous bar crossings in the world… So I can’t guarantee your survival in the pass, but on the other hand, I can assure you of finding perfect tranquility in the lagoon, once you have crossed the bar, even during the strong gales found at these austral latitudes! The Knysna Pass, the rocky outcrop which opens between two high cliffs overhanging the sea, a good 100 meters up, forms the link between one part of the river of the same name and the lagoon which forms the estuary, and the other part, the sea, often turbulent, which runs along the South African coast as far as neighboring Cape Agulhas. A narrow pass, littered with rocks, of which Emu Rock had the bad idea of setting itself right in the middle of the pass… The current accelerates hard in the bottleneck which is only a few dozens of meters across, and when the southerly swell kicks up, this quickly becomes dangerous. Apocalyptic waves. For us, all the lights went green as we were coming from Richard’s Bay. Not too much swell from the south, and on the last of the flood, we launched into Knysna lagoon. The calm of this spot, well-protected from the ocean, welcomed us in wonderful late afternoon light. We can confirm that the poor reputation of the bar at the Heads encourages cruises to continue on their route toward Mossel Bay, False Bay, or Cape Town. There were only two yachts stopping over here. After three days on a choppy sea, we climbed the small wooden staircase up to the Yacht-Club terrace, and enjoyed a glass of nicely chilled Black Label wine in the company of local South Africans. This is the heart of the Garden Route, one of the nicest regions of South Africa, and we spent more than a month in the lagoon. Knysna is chic yet at the same time laid-back: very Afrikaner! Knysna constitutes probably the most sheltered anchorage in South Africa. Leaving the boat here for the last 10 days of the year, so we could go and rent a cottage at Saint James, near Cape Town, was by far the best solution. But, one day, we had to leave the lagoon! On the fifth attempt, we were in the bottleneck. On the fifth attempt, the entire width of the pass was blocked by churning waves, a Dante-esque and prohibitive sight, which saw us doing an about-turn without any hesitation. Back to the anchorage to wait in ambush, a few cables from these satanic Heads. The sixth attempt proved to be the one. On course for Cape Aghulas! Goodbye Knysna, you almost had us trapped…
Pacific Ocean Cook Islands (northern) Suvarov (or Suwarrow) Atoll Anchorage Island
The sun was setting at Anchorage. Suvarov Atoll demands a detour on the east-west route around the world. But we didn’t regret it. Four days after leaving Mopelia, the island of Anchorage appeared on the horizon. Suvarov was the dream island of Tom Neale, a New Zealander who wanted to live on a deserted South Pacific Island. A dream which must have occurred to many people at least once in their lives. Tom Neale, who had read Robert Dean Frisbie’s account, spent 16 years there, between 1952 and 1977. Today a marine reserve, the atoll of Suvarov is an animal sanctuary located more than 500 miles from Rarotonga, the main island in the Cooks group. It was overseen, during our trip, by two really friendly local rangers, James and Apii. With them, we had an unforgettable fishing trip for crayfish, at Brushwood, at night, on the lagoon’s coral flats, surrounded by reef sharks. And a hunt for big coconuts crabs, on the motu at Turtle Island. Delicious. And then, day after day, we watched the sunset over the anchorage at Anchorage Island. Lucky Tom Neale… “The coral waxes, the palm grows, but man departs…” goes a Tahitian proverb.
Indian Ocean Papua New Guinea Louisiades Archipelago Nimoa Island
At the end of the world, you know, there exists an archipelago with almost nothing, except happiness… To reach the Louisiades Archipelago, you need a sailboat, to be self-sufficient (fresh water, fuel, power, food), and also as a minimum, a taste for adventure. On a beautiful sunny morning, coming from the island of Espiritu Santo in Vanuatu, we arrived in the north east pass of the big lagoon of Tagula, which has the lovely name of Hudumuiwa Pass. My son was lookout at the spreaders, the pass was clear, and we were close to slack water. We skirted a reef, and approached the sheltered bay at Nimoa Island. You need to go along the coral edge to find the entrance which allows you to penetrate the interior of a tiny anchorage ringed by bommies. At the head of the bay, huts raised up on stilts, pirogues drawn up on the sandy beach, and the outline of children running along the shore, excited by the arrival of an unknown sailboat. Through the binoculars, I could make out black pigs and chickens going about their daily routine. Lots of fairly skinny dogs as well, which sometimes, here, end up in the pot. Yellow-crested cockatoos were arguing noisily in the treetops. We dropped anchor and our first Papuan was approaching in his little outrigger canoe, paddle in hand. He seemed kind, and was chewing betel leaves, giving his mouth a bloody look! He spoke a few words of English: his name was John, the village chief, a small man with mischievous eyes. He made himself known to us, cautiously but not imposingly, but we felt he was curious. He had come to find out who had arrived at his island. Human contact in the Louisiades is like that, reserved, and more distant than in Vanuatu. Language is also a problem, English being much less commonly spoken than the local dialects. We indicated to John that we would like to visit his village when the sun was a little lower. While waiting, he said we could swim in the bay, of course there were a few sharks, but generally they weren’t aggressive, and that there were no saltwater crocodiles (salties) in Nimoa, where there are no mangroves.
Later we went ashore on the small beach. All the villagers were watching us. We felt no hostility at all, simply that a world exists between them and us, between their civilization, their way of life, their level of development, and ours. They were easily afraid of us. A gesture made too quickly, and some of them scurried away. The huts here are all on stilts, and they must sleep well, even on their mats, with the trade winds blowing. John accompanied us everywhere on our tour of the village, which was very reassuring for us, and very quickly he turned the conversation towards bartering. There are no shops in the small islands of the Louisiades, nothing resembling one, and the villagers produce almost nothing which could be sold to generate any kind of income. Only a few red coral necklaces, and a few wooden sculptures which are shipped off to Misima, and on to the mainland to pay for rice and flour. As there is no regular supply ship visiting these far off deserted islands, the archipelago is almost entirely self-reliant…
Atlantic Ocean Penedos de Sao Pedro e Sao Paulo (Brazil) Saint Peter and Saint Paul Archipelago
A truly unusual anchorage (warning, it’s not always secure, and always precarious), right in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, practically on the equator. It has been years that I have wanted to stop there. The St. Paul Rocks (which extend 350 meters in length and 200 in width) rise only a few meters above sea level (on the mid-Atlantic Ridge), 1000 kilometers from the coast,, close to the maritime route linking the Cape Verde islands or Senegal with the Brazilian Island of Fernando do Noronha, off Cape São Roque. A string of rocks stretches towards the northwest of the islands, for around 200 meters. You can anchor there, in a haphazard fashion, in depths of 20 meters. The SE trade winds often pick up a swell which creates an impressive and grandiose spectacle when it brings together these little specks of dust which emerge as rocks with the power of the ocean. The main island of Belmonte is home to a small Brazilian research station and a lighthouse. My dream is to one day return when the ocean is calm, and to be able to tie Jangada alongside the small wharf at Belmonte, and grill a few lobsters…
Indian Ocean Cocos Keeling Archipelago (Australia) South Keeling Port Refuge - Direction Island
The atoll of Cocos (Keeling), or more precisely the atolls, for there are actually two in reality, are located around 1000 km west-southwest of Christmas Island. North Cocos (Keeling) is inaccessible, there is no lagoon, no pass, only a ring of coral over which the sea breaks violently, rendering perilous any attempt to go ashore. South Cocos (Keeling) is quite the opposite. A vast lagoon, 27 islands or islets, two big passes, and an excellent anchorage, well sheltered from the trades, directly downwind from Direction Island, an island now deserted. The only difficulty with the atoll of South Cocos (Keeling): the depths quickly shallow the further you go in, preventing sailing in the lagoon. Only small boats with shallow draft can venture far into the interior. Passing sailboats are therefore restricted to the anchorage at Direction Island, which in spite of everything was one of the most beautiful we saw all the way round the world. To get to Home Island, 2 or 3 miles to the south, where you will find the offices of the administration, a grocery store (with the highest prices we saw anywhere during our voyage - AU$10 for 1 kg of apples), a post office, and an Internet facility, you need to use your dinghy, and be constantly looking out for the omnipresent coral.
We approached the southern atoll of the Cocos from the east, on course for Horsburgh Island, which stretches the atoll to the northwest, keeping guard upwind of the main pass. We were looking for two buoys whose transit marks the quite wide northern pass through the binoculars. On August 28 in the morning, we entered the South Cocos (Keeling) lagoon, and headed toward the anchorage at Port Refuge downwind from Direction Island. We lowered sail, and threaded our way between the coral heads towards the yellow quarantine buoy. The offshore swell was gone, the turquoise waters of the lagoon were incredibly transparent, and you would say it was only about two meters deep when in fact it was 12. The anchor dropped in coral sand and held well, in four meters of water, 50 meters from the beach shaded by thousands of coconut trees which had given, there, as elsewhere (differentiated by the word Keeling), their name to the little archipelago. Welcome to a yachtie’s paradise!
Atlantic Ocean British Overseas Territories Saint Helena (UK) Jamestown
Without doubt, when you arrive at St Helena, you get the initial impression but this high and somber island will throw you back to the sea. These vertical ochre and black cliffs, menacing and topped with clouds, at the feet of which violently break the waves pushed by the south-east trade wind, and which plunge several hundred meters into the ocean are particularly inhospitable. You’re wasting your time if you’re looking for a white sandy beach in St Helena. But this first impression of roughness, which softened over time, when you get yourself up high, in the interior of the island. Sure we were looking in vain, except perhaps next to Longwood (Napoleon’s last residence), for some flat land. There isn’t any, the main feature of the island being hills! Needless to say, any access to the sea is few and far between, and is difficult, including Jamestown, a simple small bay with no port or dock, open to raging gusts and continual surf. But the truth is St Helena is better understood as the days of your stopover go by. Her charms are not lost on the sailor trying to get ashore on the steps cut into the rocks beaten by the waves, the northern end of Jamestown’s minuscule bay, an always risky enterprise for us. Starting or from the rocky bank, and with the exception of occasional steep and enclosed valleys which go around the coast, there is very little vegetation found below 500 meters in altitude, then progressively and quickly the ground becomes covered with green pastures which themselves give way to a luxuriant semi-tropical type vegetation in the highest parts of the island. St Helena is an austere volcanic island, 17 km by 10, isolated at 16° south almost 2000 km from Angola and 3000 km from Brazil. Cape Town, in South Africa, is the base of the island’s supply ship, the RMS Saint-Helena is 3100 km to the south-east. One of St Helena’s best features are the Saints themselves: welcoming, likeable, they have managed to maintain, despite the trials and tribulations which history has not spared them, a hospitality and a natural generosity and a ‘joie de vivre’ which wins over the passing sailor. Without doubt, St Helena became a nice surprise for the crew of Jangada, whose stopover was initially planned for a few days but ended up being two weeks. The little bay at Jamestown, situated in the northwest of the island (downwind of the south-easterly trades) is open from the south through west to the north: so the anchorage is relatively choppy, with catamarans moving less than monohulls sometimes being subjected to rolling. We anchored in around 18 m, with 70 to 80 meters of chain. Getting ashore on the wharf steps is quite a game, sometimes even dangerous, especially from a dinghy. The surf is significant, and sometimes terrible. A shuttle service is provided on the hour by a small motorboat (£1 per day per person), which you call on VHF channel 16. This makes the landing operation more secure, and avoids you having to leave your dinghy tied up to the quay with a grapnel out astern, something we have done many times but which is not completely without risk. St Helena made a nice surprise for us in the South Atlantic…
Pacific Ocean French Polynesia Society Islands Maupiti Atoll
Some 30 miles west of Bora Bora, Maupiti is an atoll at which has been preserved from mass nautical tourism by the difficulty of crossing the Onoiau Pass, the only access into the lagoon, locked in between the motus of Pitiahe to the west and Tiapaa to the east. This pass is often dangerous and has claimed many human lives over the years, and having observed it up close, it is etched in my mind as an incredible tidal machine. Here there is no question of approximation: to make an attempt on the pass, all the right conditions must come together at the same time. If not, you will have to abandon your attempt and remain outside, or inside! But, once you are into the interior of the lagoon, Maupiti is a jewel, an oasis dominated by blues, every shade of blue. The inhabitants of Maupiti have shown great wisdom, refusing any hotel projects. Only small family-run guesthouses welcome passing visitors, who are clearly well informed, arriving from Maupiti on the ferry from Raiatea, or at the tiny airstrip built on a motu, which is only accessible by pirogue… I can’t say it enough: Maupiti is a jewel.
Atlantic Ocean Cape Verde Islands Brava Island Port of Furna
The crossing from Vale de Cavaleiros (Fogo) to the small port of Furna (Brava), in the wind acceleration zone which separates the two islands, is a formality. Sometimes choppy. Furna is the only shelter worthy of the name on the island of Brava. It’s sits curiously on the north-east coast of the island, the part which is most exposed to the trade winds. In fact the harbor, which at best, can only accommodate two or three sailboats in the anchorage, is located in the submerged crater of an extinct volcano, whose partially collapsed circular edge forms a promontory which gives reasonable protection from the prevailing wind and swell. We laid out 70 m of chain, and took a long sternline ashore. On the quay, a friendly local Cape Verdean took our line to pass around a bollard. He was Alberto. Alberto Andrade, 40-something, native of Furna village, like his seven brothers and sisters. The turbulent winds in this ancient crater sometimes shifted the boat sideways by dozens of meters. But after a few adjustments, we were holding okay. Brava, being at the same time the furthest and the smallest inhabited island in Cape Verde, is probably the most beautiful island in the group, with perhaps Santo Antao , but is certainly the island which has remained the most authentic. Almost circular, it is less than 9 km in diameter, with a relatively high relief which reaches 976 meters. The presence of the nearby high island of Fogo and the high average about issued of Brava has created a much damper micro climate here than in the other islands of Cape Verde. The main village, Vila de Nova Sintra, sits on the north-east side of the mountain at an altitude of 520 meters. It is very often in the clouds. A constant humidity keeps it almost permanently cool, which is good for the numerous fruit trees (oranges, lemons, bananas, mangoes, almonds, papaya, date palms, coconut… ) and tropical flowers (dracaena, bougainvillea, jasmine, oleander, hibiscus…) Goats and a few zebu cattle looked for grass even though it was mainly dry on one side or other of the road which was in need of repair. The shrubby vegetation made me think of the Sahara, just opposite us on the continent. During our stay in Brava, the constant force of the north-east trade wind dissuaded us from going to anchor for two days at Secos de Rombo, a chain of six small islands, three nautical miles north-east of Furna. Continuous reefs link these islands together, and very early each morning when the weather is a bit more manageable, the fishing boats from Furna slip out into the night to reach the shores of Ilheu Luiz Carneiro and Ilheu da Cima, where the fishing is excellent. Each boat pulled up on the stony beach and on average 5 to 6 good-sized fish. Occasionally, something even more impressive awaited us on the stones, below the dilapidated facades of the old houses along the seafront. Swordfish over two meters in length were brought ashore by the fishermen. As for me, I just had one question: is it right to pass through life too fast, while life does nothing but slip between your fingers? Good luck, Alberto, I will remember your amazing outlook, and hope to see you again one day, on your island of Brava, there, on the edge of the ocean…
Atlantic Ocean Caribbean Sea San Blas Islands A multitude of islets
The delightful San Blas… But for how much longer? Located a few dozen miles to the east of the town of Cristobal, which marks the Atlantic entrance to the Panama Canal, a myriad of islands (365 some say) stretch out at the foot of wood-covered mountains along the American isthmus, low to the water and covered with coconut trees: the San Blas. The Kuna Yala Indians, who inhabit the San Blas archipelago, are known to be particularly resistant to having their way of life altered by visitors. The archipelago constitutes one of the regions of the state of Panama, but benefits from being semi-autonomous. Formerly warriors, the Kuna still live very rudimentary lives, compared to us in the modern world. Their craftsmanship is original and forms the essential means for them to enter into contact with cruising sailors. And to earn themselves a few U.S. dollars… And it doesn’t take much to see that these dollars won’t ensure their happiness. Simply a little more material comfort. But at the price, certainly high, social structures and family customs established since the dawn of time are being the radically overturned for this insular people long cut off from the world market.
It is incredible that at only a few cables from the coasts of an all-modern country, Panama, which is a symbol of today’s globalization of trade, such an ancestral way of life can continue to subsist. The San Blas, for the cruising sailor, represents thousands of potential anchorages, in warm water, sheltered by the coral reefs, with friendly people, traders for sure, but never aggressive. A primitive population, which accepts the presence of strangers, but without excessive curiosity. Or region blessed by the gods, as cyclones are unknown here, passing further north. The waters of the San Blas archipelago are rich with fish. These islands are a paradise for fishing and diving.
Indian Ocean Rodrigues (Mauritius) South Lagoon - Port Sud Est - Anse Mourouk 19°45’S 063°27’E
Jangada at anchor in the lagoon pass of the island of Rodrigues: one of the strangest yet most magnificent anchorages on our trip around the world. At the heart of the Indian Ocean, this small island just 18 km long and 8 wide, which is really worth the detour water gets there, has one of the best spots in the world, I can assure you, for kite-surfing, a sporting discipline (great when blue water cruising) where you need to love the wind, the spray and thrill seeking. Rodriguez, previously and initially a French island (a French creole is still spoken here today which is a delight to listen to), is located just over 600 km to the east of Mauritius, of which it is a dependent territory. The island is surrounded by an immense lagoon of shallow water, ringed by a barrier reef, bathed in sunlight (copiously) and cooled by the trade winds, especially from June through October. A pebble which has retained its authenticity at the heart of the Indian Ocean.
The Anse Mourouk is to be discovered slowly. The south east pass is not buoyed, as it is used only rarely, and only ever by small boats. The approach presents no difficulty, but you need to keep to port while keeping an eye on the waves breaking only a short distance to starboard. Once inside the lagoon, the pass is deep, some 30 meters, with a straightforward approach. This stretch of deep water threads a way through the coral, making a series of turns whose deep blue color helps the helmsman to follow. We anchored on the dropoff of a secondary stream which drains the east of Anse Mourouk into the main pass. The coral sand seabed gives good holding, but a stern anchor is essential to avoid being carried on to the coral if the wind drops.
We were the only cruising sailboat in the southern lagoon. The anchor was set between coral reefs, right in the middle of this incredible stretch of water, whose shades of blue changed with the sky and the time of the tide. Every day local fishing canoes, so well adapted to sailing in the lagoon, passed by Jangada, on the way to their fishing grounds (for octopus) early in the morning and coming back at night, slipping by on the calm water around us and into the darkness. Magical…
Indian Ocean Indonesia Sunda Islands - Rindja Island (Komodo National Park) - Lehok Ginggo
We approached the island of Rindja from the north, coming from Labuan-Bajo on the northwest of Flores Island. Sailing in Linta Strait is remarkable because of the strong currents which run there. It’s best to go with the tide, and also to be able to count on having a good motor. Having a look out at the spreaders can be useful in some places, for spotting the edges of the coral banks. The uninhabited Lehok Ginggo Bay opens to the west of Rindja Island. The entrance is clear, and you just need to skirt round the south, then east toward the north where two small islands sit in the middle of the bay, to discover this incredible well-protected anchorage and wonderful tranquility. Anchored in 3 to 4 meters of water, with a sternline led ashore, we spent several idyllic days. Only a few fishing boats occasionally came into the bay. Rindja Island is part of the Komodo National Park, and it is here where you can find the easiest spots for observing the famous Komodo dragons. Better than on the island of Komodo itself, which lies on the other side of the strait, where there are guides waiting to give you a rather disappointing tour. We didn’t have to look long to find the best spots to observe these charming creatures. It’s in the two bays at the south of Lehok Ginggo, and there we saw several dragons, some quite impressive in size. You need to keep a good eye out when you go ashore, the armed with a paddle or a walking stick, make no noise, remain absolutely still and be patient. Cattle come to drink and bathe in the late afternoon in a small freshwater lake a few hundred meters from the beach, and so the biggest dragons are on the prowl nearby. But be very careful, particularly if you have children with you. The dragons attack by surprise, and their bite is often instantly fatal. The American crew of a 66 foot Gunboat catamaran found this out to their cost just a few days earlier, having gone ashore at Rindja with their little dog! Despite his aggressive behavior, a dragon snatched him up and swallowed him whole, right in front of the crew’s eyes…
I don’t know if you’re allowed to walk in the Komodo National Park without an official guide. I’m not even sure about the anchorage. It’s even fairly probable that this is not the case. But by being discreet we were able to see the dragons are very close up, in the wild and to bring back some incredible pictures! Soon to be seen in Multihulls World! Without disturbing these creatures, since they would consider us as potential prey, especially our charming children… Go at your own risk.
Atlantic Ocean Los Roques Islands (Venezuela) Cayo de Agua
From a security point of view, Venezuela has received a bad press in these times of post-populist politics which has mainly left a trail of misery. We were happy to stick to the outer islands, less visited by crime. Right at the western end of the Los Roques archipelago, the blues of Cayo de Agua provided discreet shelter for a peaceful stay in the islands. It is the wildest and at least frequented part of the archipelago. Only a few local fishing boats pass from time to time far off on our horizon. Cayo de Agua is a world of translucent waters, a brilliant white sand, countless coral cays and scrubby bushes absorbing the light. The yellow-footed brown boobies and the brown terns nest along the banks, but it’s really watching the pelicans fly that remains the most memorable. A few old wooden crosses worn by time and the weather show that one time tanned-skinned fishermen lived in these islands beaten by the sun.
Atlantic Ocean Casamance Delta (Senegal) Bolong d’Elinkine et d’Ehidj
On our trip around the world, Senegal, and in particular the Casamance Delta, retains special memories for the crew. Once you have passed the winding entrance to the river, sailing on the bolongs takes over, and the world changes. This is a region of character, and the inhabitants (French-speaking) are for the most part very welcoming! Almost 30 years after my first stop there, I was glad to rediscover this special place which had previously won me over. Only a few things have changed: like you see everywhere now, tall mobile phone antennas dot the countryside… Much the region has kept most of its magic. The anchorage off Elinkine is pretty, but frequented by large numbers of fishing boats and commercial craft which run up and down the river or put out to sea. In my heart I was close to our friends from the small village of Ehidj, a little further up the bolong. In time past I knew them as children, and after hearing of our arrival, they welcomed us like their own.
Let’s hope the proximity of the resort at Cap Skirring doesn’t change them too much…
Pacific Ocean Kingdom of Tonga Vava’u Group Maninita Island
Welcome to the kingdom of Tonga, a plethora of 160 islands and islets spread into three geographical groups, with only 120,000 inhabitants living in a society which is still very traditional. The island of Maninita is one of the most pristine, and its anchorage, one of the most precarious! It is a day anchorage, narrow and touched by currents which are difficult to predict. It lies in the Vava’u Group of islands, an archipelago to the north of Tonga which lends itself very well to peaceful cruising. The waters are full of fish, the seabeds rich and nature generous. The island is only inhabited by seabirds, hermit crabs and shellfish. The biggest danger in Tonga, at anchor, are the tropical squalls which can be a very violent, as is the case throughout the western Pacific. At night, mainly… We spent a few hours stuck on the coral, a little further south, in the dangerous archipelago of the Ha’apai Group.
