Illegal in Maupiti

Forty miles west of the last largely populated islands in French Polynesia is a small volcanic island surrounded by an atoll-like ring of land protecting the inner waters from the sea outside. This little island is known as Maupiti, and is home to roughly 1200 people. To enter said protected waters one must thread the needle between breaking waves and the ribbon-thin waters of the pass at the southern end. None of which can be done in seas greater than 2 meters, which it seems to be just about that on any normal day. After 10 hours of motoring, we arrived and entered in very calm conditions and no drama to speak of.

While there is technically more Polynesian land further West, none come with any population to speak of and certainly no fuel, groceries, etc. Because of this, we chose Maupiti as our launching point to start the much larger passage from Polynesia to Tonga, another 1300 miles to the West. I’m not sure how long we had planned to stay in Maupiti, but neither of us would have thought we would have stayed as long as we did. As I mentioned above; one can not enter the pass in 2+ meter seas – which also means one can not *exit* the pass in 2+ meter seas. This is what caused our quite lengthy stay as the wind (and high seas) would begin soon after our arrival and not stop for two full weeks. While we can see a forecast as far out as 10 days, anything beyond 2-3 days out can not be trusted in the slightest, so we had no idea the wind would not let up for so long. We were not surprised by it though.

We joined the contingent of about 12 other full time cruising boats all neatly parked in the anchorage – but for the angry frenchman that would come out, naked, screaming at anyone that anchored within a quarter mile of his boat. From where we dropped the hook it was an easy dinghy ride to get to the local dinghy-dock, which left a lot to be desired. Hanging on by two threads – literally – the dock was barely large enough for a few dinghies, and for half the day was not in deep enough water. Nevertheless, we went to shore nearly every day, both to resupply some basic foods, water, and to explore the area.

After some time, we all knew accepted that we would be here for a fair amount of time. This lead to the eventual get-together on a beach for an evening bonfire, and happy hour invitations flew back and forth over the course of the next week or so. It was good to catch up with some of the other boaters that had crossed the Pacific this year, and to hear their own adventures and trials first hand. It helps, a lot, to not feel alone in my frustration of sailing the South Pacific in 2024.

Our time at Maupiti wasn’t all fun and games though. We knew that we would be on a long passage once we left here, whenever that day might come, so we were preparing as much as we could. While I climbed the mast and did numerous other jobs to prepare the boat, Kerri cooked up dozens of meals to freeze and have available for the longer passages to come. In between those types of jobs, it was back and forth to shore to either haul more groceries, water, or diesel to Meriwether. If there is one things I would not have expected to be in this life, it is a pack-mule. This aging back of mine moves more cargo in a month then in the entire 50+ years combined before living on a boat. I’m really not built for this kind of work, and by the end of our stay in Maupiti, my body was making that perfectly clear.

Two weeks into our stay here the weather finally offered an opportunity to sail further West. It wasn’t a great weather window, and since we had just finished working our tails off preparing, we decided to skip the window for a few more days of “just enjoying life” for a change. On that Wednesday and Thursday every single other boat in the anchorage picked up anchor and departed. We were alone and seriously questioning our decision, but only for a single day. The calmer weather opened up the window for other boats to arrive in Maupiti from the East, so the socializing began once again, with all new crew and stories.

Another week passed and another weather window offered itself to us. This one was just perfect, with days and days of good winds headed the correct direction and no major systems looking to ruin the party any time soon. So, after three full weeks – as illegal aliens – we finally hauled up our own anchor, navigated through the pass, through the breaking waves, and back out into the open Pacific Ocean to sail further West.