The Marquesas and the Tuamotus are part of the same country, but they’re worlds apart. Blue dominates instead of green. Beaches replace mountains.

The Tuamotus consist of the world’s largest group of coral atolls. While the Marquesas are still relatively young volcanic islands with steep mountains and rugged coastlines, the Tuamotus are much older. Over 35 million years ago, volcanoes rose from the sea, and coral formed around them. The volcanoes then sank into the sea, leaving behind ring-shaped atolls. The atolls themselves cover a considerable total area. However, the proportion of land (motu) is very small.

Behind the Motus, the boats are sheltered from the wind — provided the palm trees are tall enough. In any case, they’re protected from the waves. Sometimes, only a few hundred meters separate the breaking waves of the open ocean from a heavenly calm anchorage. The aerial view illustrates this contrast quite well.

Through the Keyhole to Paradise

However, anchoring in these tropical bathtubs has to be earned because the atolls are essentially closed rings of reef. So, how do you get in? Through holes in the ring. In sailing lingo, these openings are called cuts. The cuts vary in width, and there’s a tidal range. Even a small amount of water flowing in and out of the huge atoll “bathtub” through a small opening creates a current. Here, that current can easily reach six knots. With our cruising speed of six knots, we definitely won’t make it into the atoll at the wrong time. Even if the current is in our favor, conditions can become uncomfortable or dangerous when it meets waves and wind coming from the opposite direction.

Sailing through a cut in an atoll on a small sailboat is an awe-inspiring experience. After surfing your way into such a pass, you wonder how you’ll ever make it back out. But that’s what makes it so fascinating. Just an hour later or a shift in the wind, and the same cut reveals a completely different side. The breaking waves suddenly disappear, and the world looks peaceful again. This spectacle never loses its charm. However, it does mean that we have to plan our departures and arrivals carefully to ensure that we make it safely to the other side.

The Chain Shouldn’t Slalom

The trip to the chosen anchorage is easier than expected. Looking at a satellite image of the area clearly shows where you can navigate without hitting a coral head. Of course, good lighting and keeping a lookout never hurt. Where the anchor actually lands, however, is a bit trickier.There are hardly any spots where the sandy areas are large enough to drop the anchor. Coral is scattered all over the sand, and we don’t want to touch it. For one thing, because we don’t want to damage it. Second, the anchor chain gets snagged in the coral, and when the wind shifts, it wraps itself around it. Untangling it isn’t exactly one of the joys of our sailing life. But the problem can be solved by hooking fenders or other floating objects onto the anchor chain at appropriate intervals. This keeps the chain floating below the water’s surface and above the coral heads. The whole process is somewhat cumbersome, and it takes a few tries to find the right setup for your boat. Fortunately, the water is warm and clear, so we can dive down, check everything, and make adjustments as needed.

Life in Isolation

The Tuamotus are in the middle of nowhere. The nearest major town with all the comforts of civilization is Papeete, Tahiti, and it takes two days to reach it by sailboat. We’re used to seclusion from the Bahamas and Newfoundland. There, too, are areas where no one lives and where you’re on your own. Still, it’s a different feeling to drop anchor in the middle of the Pacific on an uninhabited atoll.

Some of the Motus, however, are inhabited and home to a few hundred people and a few dogs. Like us, the residents eagerly await the supply ship, which brings food, diesel, and mail at more or less regular intervals. Despite their best efforts, the selection of fruits and vegetables is limited. The options include cabbage, carrots, onions, and potatoes. If you’re very lucky, you might even find an apple. The abundance of fruit in the Marquesas is a thing of the past. In the Tuamotus, there are very, very few places where crops are specifically cultivated. The small selection of food items, on the other hand, reflects the islands’ French colonial history and is surprising. You have a good chance of finding quality cheese and pastries.

Finally, we’re digging into our long-term supplies! For instance, we have lentils left over from mainland Spain. Some unexpected finds in the cupboards and storage compartments cause quite a hurra. Encouraged by this, we’re slowly working our way through all our food stashes, combining our finds with fresh tuna and homemade coconut milk. We’re using our flour reserves to bake pastries, and thanks to the portable pizza oven of our boat friends, we enjoy fantastic pizza every now and then. No one has to go hungry here.

A Sailors Dream

The Tuamotus are exactly what you set sail for. Crystal-clear water as far as the eye can see. An underwater world that’s second to none and entices you with new surprises every day. The company of like-minded people who are just as overwhelmed by their good fortune to be here as we are. Palm trees upon palm trees bearing thousands of coconuts. Just the right amount of challenge when sailing. Endless impressions and memories that will last a lifetime. So we lack for nothing as we sail from atoll to atoll.