WORLD
Awaiting the Maramu: A Dream Cruise Through Tahiti's Leewards Our goal was simple: to spend at least a week 'off the grid', sailing in some dreamy tropical getaway spot where we could snorkel colorful reefs every day, soak in gorgeous scenery, and stay blissfully out of touch with the workaday world — no phone calls, no email, no mind-numbing traffic, and no gloomy headlines. Several destinations came to mind that might have filled the bill, all of which offer well-kept, late-model bareboat fleets. But the Leeward Islands of Tahiti quickly rose to the top of our list. We'd sailed there several times before, but the Leewards are not the sort of place we could ever get tired of. After our short-hop flight from Papeete, Tahiti's capital, Julie and I sat down with Sophie, the cheerful Sunsail base customer service manager, who refreshed our memories about the islands' many anchorages and attractions, then gave us a thorough check-out on our temporary floating home, a brand new Sunsail 384 cat named Vanira II — she was a beauty. A look at the week's weather forecast revealed that we could expect several days of light air before a strong maramu wind system kicked in from the southwest. "That won't bother us at all," I said. "We're San Francisco Bay sailors, where 20 to 25 knots is the norm." Being typical over-extended Americans, we only had a week to play — when at least a month would have been more Bora Bora's over-water bungalows are a favorite retreat for honeymooners, but we'd rather spend our time on a charter boat.
to our liking — so we were faced with a tough decision. We knew from previous trips that unless you really rush, it's impractical to try to visit all four of the main Leeward Isles in seven days. Raiatea (where the charter bases are located) and her sister isle, Tahaa, lie side-by-side, encircled by a common fringing reef system. But both Huahine and Bora Bora lie a half-day's sail away — in opposite directions. Although we love Huahine's laidback vibe, picturesque waterside homes, and magical snorkeling, we opted to explore Bora Bora this time. We'd only had a very brief look at that fabled isle once before, while participating in the Tahiti Pearl Regatta — a sensational annual event where bareboaters, international cruisers and local French sailors all compete and party together. Being longtime sailors, we knew better than to over-plan our itinerary — after all, to do so would sap the spontaneity out of our cruise. But with the maramu predicted, we figured we'd first head to Naonao, a picture-perfect islet at the southern tip of Raiatea, then cross to Bora Bora while the winds and seas were still light. From Raiatea's Apooiti Marina, where both the Sunsail and Moorings' fleets are based, it's a leisurely half-day sail (roughly 20 miles) to pine-covered Naonao, which is renowned for fine snorkeling — except when southwest swells are running — on a vast reef system that lies to the south of it. The fringing reefs that encircle every island in the Leewards (or more correctly, Les Îles Sous-le-Vent), create tranquil lagoons between the craggy volcanic islands and the reefs. This unique characteristic means you'll be sailing on nearly flat waters even when the breeze gets brisk, except during interisland crossings. After overnighting at the base, we got underway early and began our lazy sail past Uturoa, the island's only real town, and down the
ALL PHOTOS LATITUDE / ANDY EXCEPT AS NOTED
We depart from our usual format this month to bring you a special report on of the South Pacific's prime sailing venues, French Polynesia's Îles Sous-le-Vent.
east coast, threading our way between red nav markers on the 'island side' and green markers on the 'reef side'. European-style cardinal markers are also used to mark additional hazards. This system seems a bit confusing the first time out, but you quickly get the hang of it — especially since most of the bareboats these days are equipped with chartplotters that make every hazard obvious. As we worked our way along the eastern shoreline past neat little waterside homes that are surrounded by flowering plants and fruit trees — each home with its own dock and boat lift — we couldn't help fantasizing about living in one of them full time. "Let's see, a quick dip in the sea before breakfast, perhaps a little fishing out on the reef, then a nap in that hammock there in the shade of that massive breadfruit tree. . ." About the time we were getting carried away with such fantasies, a group of two dozen dolphins suddenly appeared alongside and danced in our bow waves for a mile or so, then disappeared as fast as they'd arrived. Although this July trip was near the theoretical peak of the tourist season, we saw only two other bareboats all day, and
