Pitufa.at

From our anchorage we saw something that looked like a boat far down south inside the lagoon. First we thought it was just some optical illusion with maybe a palmtree and a bush behind it, but with the binoculars it became clear that there was really some kind of boat, but how was that possible with no pass into the lagoon? Was is a wreck that had been swept in? Had a boat with a lifting keel somewhow made it through the tiny boatpass on the eastern side?

2 days ago the conditions allowed us to explore down south and we were astonished to find the a rather well-preserved monohull (called Lyderic) with the stern beached and attached to strong moorings next to a make-shift hut made of driftwood. The mainsail had been used as a bed, the roof to collect water. It seems he used material and infrastructure left by the Falconer family who spent some years here before in the late 80s. We found tools, shoes and all other kinds of daily-life paraphernelia chaotically strewn around inside and outside the hut, like the owner had left in a hurry without taking much with him (I say he, because we only found big men’s shoes). Some of the things looked eerily new, like someone might still be hiding there (maybe watching us from afar). It was a creepy experience to snoop around his things…

In the evening we asked on our SSB net and friends found some info about the boat: apparently a French hermit lived on the island for a while before he was discovered by a research vessel in 2014 and removed by the Kiribati government in 2015.
He must have a had a tough time here, as the island is very dry mainly covered in coarse coral rubble. Remains of a Polynesian settlement on the northernmost motu prove that those seafarers tried to settle here, but also gave up after a while. Attempts to establish workers on a copra colony on the southernmost motu also weren’t overly successful.

We were puzzled by the fact that the hermit didn’t pick the southern motu where he would have had an easier time with lots of coconuts and presumably coconut crabs to catch (we haven’t seen coconut crabs on the western side–no wonder, there are hardly palmtrees here ) But we heard from French cruisers that the southern motu is infested with mosquitoes and no-nos.
We haven’t seen much fish in the lagoon and we heard from French cruisers that Ciguatera is also a problem here.

Today we took the dinghy out to explore some of the motus along the western side of the atoll. At high tide in calm conditions (like now, when there’s hardly any swell from the south or north) it’s easy to paddle the dinghy up the shelf of the outer reef and then on in the shallow water to the motu behind.

They are all different:

The motu just in front of us consists of coral rubble that is piled up high (about 5 m) and steep with a plateau on top. The coarse rubble is covered in low shrubs–just the kind of landscape sooty terns seem to like. They nest in thousands just on the ground and underneath the shrubs (Wikipedia talks of half a million around the atoll…), circle the motu and the air vibrates with their shrill calls. Some frigate birds sit on the higher branches and add their cat-fight-like shrieks to the cacophony.

Further south we beached the dinghy in between slabs of dark coral. The tiny motu behind it consists of the same dark, solid coral plate with some finer shell sand piled up with just a few scrubs on top–just what masked boobies and red-tailed tropic birds like. We saw several couples of masked boobies around the motu and tropic birds with chicks under the shrubs.

We dinghied by another bigger motu with more land and higher leaf-trees (family pisonia). Such trees are popular with noddies and red-footed boobies who build their nests high up with the white chicks ogling down on visitors.

While we wandered around and also while we were riding slowly in the dinghy terns and boobies constantly circled us watching curiously what we were up to. We saw some traces of human visitors ashore (bottles around old fire places, a raft of the kind Polynesians use to collect lobsters), but apparently the birds haven’t had enough negative experiences with humans to be shy. At least not the generation we’re meeting here

If you’re young and you’re hip and you happen to be an adolescent brown booby living on Car o line Island, there’s a new cool place to hang out: Pitufa!
This morning when the cat and I climbed up the companionway there were two adolescent brown boobies (clearly recongnizable in their dark-brown feathers) sitting on the solar panel, ogling us suspiciously. They flew away when a bored-looking Leeloo (boobies are lighter, but much bigger than our cat) strolled past them. When we came back from snorkeling, we were delighted to see another (or the same?) two boobies sitting on the anchor line and the bow-sprit. We approached them slowly taking pictures all the time and thinking what a special moment we had caught.

By now (it’s 5 and we’re sitting with a beer in the cockpit) we have 4 sitting on the bow-sprit ignoring us even when we take close-up pics from half a metre away and another 10 circling the boat waiting for their chance to hang out in the new hip booby-meeting point

We’ve cleared out, the boat’s ready, the forecast looks like nice light-wind sailing, so we’ll set out from Raiatea in a few hours. It feels strange to leave French Polynesia, but then we know that we’ll come back towards the end of the year

During this southern winter we plan to sail first up north to visit Tongareva/Penrhyn (Cook Islands) and then we want to hop slowly southwards through the Cook Islands chain. By November we want to back in French Polynesia!

Birthday kiss (klick for larger image)

Our little girlie turns 18 sometime in July, but we neither have to worry about university choices nor driving licenses… Instead we have to tend to the geriatric needs (special diet food, soft landing areas underneath companion way and sofa that go easy on the back, etc.) of our aging ship’s cat. We wish you many more happy years, Leeloo!

This morning we wrapped Pitufa in yet another layer of plastic, then the smurf-blue bootstripe was sprayed on and by noon we were allowed to reveal the piece of art–tuh-duh! An almost new Pitufa in white and blue
We tore off the layers of foil that we used over the past few days to protect the new antifouling and paint. Negative side effect: we produced a whole wheely-bin full of plastic–not a great experience for people like us who usually try to avoid plastic trash…

On Friday the primer was sprayed on, during the weekend we did the first two layers of antifouling, so now Pitufa’s battleship grey and blue. The primer has nicely dried over the weekend, today the painter does some more fairing, tomorrow we’ll hopefully get the paint sprayed on and Pitufa will turn white on the topsides and we’ll do two more layers of black antifouling. In the meantime christian sweats in the bilge installing new sea valves and general plumbing, i assist and try to get my normal ‘boathold’ duties done in between (laundry in a bucket, baking bread, etc.).

During our first visits to boatyards Leeloo was horrified by all the loud machines and many people, by now she knows the routine and hangs out in the cockpit while the travellift thunders by…

Today the first two coats of primer will be (hopefully) sprayed on. In order to protect the rest of the boat we had to spread a layer of plastic all around the toe-rail and up to the life lines. Weirdly enough, there’s never enough proper scaffolding in a boatyard, instead we have to pile up differently sized blocks of wood put planks on top and hope for the best while balancing up there in 2 or even 4 m height…
We used up quite some plastic foil, masking tape and nerves with one of us standing on rickety make-shift scaffolding and the other one leaning over the railing and fixing straps of masking tape on the wildly fluttering foil (yep, of course there was a stiff breeze blowing). Keep your fingers crossed that it won’t rain on the primer!!

We hauled the boat out on Friday and started work immediately. We want to do a new antifouling as usual, but after more than 10 years the paint on the topsides has started cracking in places and so we have decided to have a professional painter spray it newly to get Pitufa all shiny and pretty again. Of course the old paint has to come off first, the cracks need fairing and so we are sanding and grinding all day long to prepare the hull for the painter. There’s a dozen additional jobs on the list and we’ve taken off the windvane and the swimming ladder, made a new through-hull, etc. etc. The weather has been a bit unstable with tropical downpours in between, despite the claims of meteo.pf that it was ‘cool, breezy and sunny’, so we hope for more settled weather when the paintwork starts.
I’m writing this blog at 6 in the morning, my shoulders and arms hurt from working the orbital sander all day long and the first sounds of workers arriving come up from the yard. It’s gonna be another hard day on the hard