Times Change. We Don’t

Bob Bitchin

It’s an Ill Wind… We were about a day out of Bora Bora, and it was one of the best sails we’d had since heading to the South Pacific. Naturally we’d left Southern California during an El Nino year, so all the winds were running contrary to what was normal. The downwind run through French Polynesia from the Marquesas to the Society Islands had been a real adventure, to say the least.

But we had left Bora Bora behind us, passed the outpost island of Maupiti, and were well on our way to Suverov (also spelled Suwarrow) Island in the Northern Cook Islands. Actually, the whole voyage had come about because I’d read this book about a guy who lived as a hermit on a small island. It was called An Island To One’s Self, by Tom Neil, and I wanted to see where it was written. And here we were, well on our way, living large and loving life, when The Storm hit.

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Starboard Attitude Yes, I capitalized it on purpose. This was The Storm with a capital T. During the night and the previous day we’d had 20-knot winds off our stern and we were loving life. As soon as the sun had set the wind stopped, which is fairly normal for the South Pacific, but about midnight it started to blow on our nose. By dawn we had 35 knots of wind, right on our schnauzer! The seas had built to about six feet and were running strong. The SSB said The Storm would strengthen for a day, and then it would start to pass over us. Well, we still had about 650 miles to go and we’d been knocked down to 3-4 knots with the head seas; as they built we slowed. It was time to look for options. After all, there are always options, right? We could turn tail and run back to Bora Bora or Maupiti. They were about 135 miles behind us, but that would be 180° off our course and not something I wanted to do. As I tried to brush a speck of dirt off my chart I noticed it wouldn’t move. That was because it wasn’t dust, it was an island. Actually, more of an atoll. It didn’t have an name because it was too small. But it was there on the chart, and it was only about 75 miles at a 90° angle. So we whipped the boat around and started heading for our unknown island. With any luck we’d make it before dark. As we sailed south I started searching my

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Bob Bitchin cruising guides for info on the place. After a half hour I was about to give up. The only chart I could find it on was the edge of the Society Islands chart. It was called Maupahaa. But none of my cruising guides had anything on it. All we could see was it was a very small (about four mile) atoll. And there was no entrance to any lagoon. As we continued on our way I finally decided we would pass the atoll, come up from the lee side, and just drop a hook on the coral so the atoll could stop the waves, which had by noon grown to 8-10 feet. The winds were holding at 35 knots. We spotted the island at sunset. By the time we’d passed it and were able to run up into the sheltered side, it was dark. Darker than a politician’s motives. The overcast sky hid the moon, and the sun was long gone. I turned on the radar and put Jody and one of our two young crew on the bow with spotlights. The other youngster I sent up to the first spreader to see if he could see anything. Naturally, the rain started shortly thereafter. We never did see the island, or land, but I watched the depth sounder, and as soon as we were in the lee of the atoll and it read 50’ depth I dropped the anchor and chain. We set up an anchor watch, and soon we were all getting a great night sleep (except the watch, of course!). At dawn we awoke to find one of the

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Starboard Attitude

most beautiful islands we have ever visited. Yes, the winds were still blowing, but the sky had cleared and we found ourselves anchored behind a pristine white sand atoll with palm trees and the most colors of blue I think we’d ever seen. We ended up spending a week there, after we found a way to get the boat into the lagoon. We met the 12 people who lived on the island, and we learned what the real Polynesian lifestyle was all about. As John Heywood once said, “It’s an ill wind that blows nobody any good,” and I think this was one of the best examples I ever had to show that was true. That happened about 15 years ago, and sitting here now thinking about it, I realize it was one of the best memories I have of our South Pacific voyage, which was one of the best adventures I have ever lived.

And had The Storm not come up? We would have missed it!

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