Touring with the Tribe in Tahiti
By Zuzana Prochazka
I’ve been sailing with Frank for a dozen years. In that time, we’ve cruised in many parts of the world together and he’s brought various family members along, but never the whole clan, not until now. The Tahiti trip formed around the perfect vortex of graduations, birthdays, engagements, and so forth, so the tribe tapped into the Bank of Dad and converged on paradise.
We boarded our 45-foot catamaran from Sunsail on Ra’iatea, the central island of the group and only a 45-minute flight from Papeete on the main island of Tahiti Nui. Unlike other destinations where you can’t make it out of the marina before sunset on the first day, we had a straight shot up to the neighboring island of Taha’a and caught a mooring in Hurepiti Bay before sundown. All but two of his children were aboard, along with various plus-ones. “I don’t know when we can all be together like this again,” said Frank. “It’s something I’d really like to do before they all scatter.”
Few aboard were sailors but that didn’t matter because Frank was in his element, combining his family with his passion. As we raised sails and exited Pai Pai pass bound for Bora Bora some 18 miles away, it was exciting to shut down the engines and have that quintessential quiet moment of perfection. At first, it was slow and sloppy but the farther we got from Taha’a’s wind shadow, the faster we sailed until we started surfing at 10+ knots and picking off other charter boats around us because of course, two boats on the horizon means a race is on. I’ve never seen a more contented face than Frank at the wheel enjoying time under sail with the whole gang even if some did feed the fish.
We turned north just after Bora Bora’s reef marker, an intimidating sight that left us wondering how anyone could ever service that wind and wave-beaten navaid. As we scooted through Teavanui pass, the only way to get into Bora Bora’s lagoon, we hooked right and behind Motu To’opua between the reef and the islet. We even took a minute for Frank to practice catching a mooring since we had nothing but space all around and time before sunset. It’s not as easy as it looks making a cat dance. Everyone wants to be captain until it’s time to do captain sh*t. Anchoring isn’t allowed anymore in Bora Bora which is a pity. Cruisers are now relegated to four mooring fields at $40 per night. The iconic Bloody Mary’s was also off the list because the restaurant is shuttered as they build a hotel with overwater bungalows around it. Hopefully, this South Seas landmark will reopen soon so every yachtie can buy the mandatory T-shirt that’s intended to start conversations at the yacht club back home.
We found a spot on the concrete dock near Vaitape, the only real reprovisioning spot on the island, and off they went for pearls and Oreos. I watched two cruise ships trade spots in the lagoon as I waited, lamenting the days when only the old Paul Gauguin cruiser dropped anchor under the shadow of Mount Otemanu.
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