Fakarava Philharmonic.

14^th June May 2024

Punaruku, Makemo, Tuamotus, French Polynesia – Rotoava, Fakarava, Tuamotus, French Polynesia via South Pass & Hirifa, Fakarava, Tuamotus, French Polynesia

Philharmonic orchestras are made up of many sections that all come together to create a great performance. You have the strings section crammed with violins and violas, the brass section gleams after lots of elbow grease, the percussion sits behind the scenes driving the tempo and sometimes a choir complements all the instruments. Finally, there can be a soloist that shines alone, but at the same time pulls everyone together creating an unforgettable crescendo. This has been Fakarava for Ruffian.

After an overnight sail from Makemo we approached the lee shore of Fakarava and the percussion section was in full force. Rhythmical booms from the huge breaking waves warned us of the impending doom of a the lee shore as they turned into a foaming mass on the razor sharp coral. In the midst of this chaos we aimed Ruffian to a small opening where we hoped the water would be flat and the depth enough.

Getting closer the slow booming rhythm of the ocean swell was joined by the frenetic drumming of smaller waves breaking on the fringing reef and the sides of the pass. Just as all this percussion was reaching a fever pitch we were swept though into the calm waters of the lagoon where silence enveloped us and a rare free mooring ball greeted us.

After a couple of days sitting on the mooring ball the next part of the orchestra was about to join us; the choir. Taking everyone by surprise (including the forecasters it would seem), the sky turned grey, rain lashed Ruffian’s decks and the wind blew and blew and blew. With every gust Ruffian’s rigging sung hitting notes so high our ears hurt.

As the days wore on we watched brave boats enter the pass with sails in tatters and theirs crews battered, while the not so brave (or less foolhardy) hove too off the atoll looking for any semblance of shelter they could find. As the winds increased the choir moved from Bass into the Soprano range and now the anchorage was proving challenging for some. Anchors were dragging, coral bommies were snagging chains and finding new patches of sand to anchor in was a near impossible task.

Along with the wind the choir disappeared, and now it was the turn of the strings to take centre stage and chief among the strings was the cello.

The south pass at Fakarava is famed for its ‘wall of sharks’ and snorkelling in the shallows we could see the building blocks. Sharks appeared from every direction and in true Jaws fashion their fins cut little wakes above the surface while where beady eyes scanned for prey below. Schools of Grouper played a dangerous game of hide and seek as they sheltered under anything that would give shade and were joined by countless colourful reef fish who could hide in the intricate coral that covered every surface.

Not content with snorkelling around the sharks, Iain and Andy from Cushla kitted up with tanks, BCD’s, weights and wetsuits and waited for the tide to start to entering the lagoon. Just as the tide turned they slipped into the water and descended to a sand spit known locally as ‘The Runway’. On ‘The Runway’ the occasional shark was relaxing and letting the tide run over their gills, but once the sand ran out things changed dramatically.

Suddenly the cello, playing the Jaws theme tune rung loudly in their ears. Sharks were everywhere and were so abundant that they blocked out the sun, hid the coral and threatened to bump not only into each other but also those who had entered their underwater realm. As time ticked by, the tide increased as did the number of sharks. Tens of sharks were replaced by hundreds and as we were swept through these now busy waters the sharks had to veer around us as they held station looking down and seeking out the huge schools of Grouper. With air running low and worrying we’d be swept into the huge lagoon we surfaced to a worried Fiona standing station in the dinghy, beaming with smiles driven by a mixture of fear and amazement. The ‘wall of sharks’ really was a ‘wall of sharks’ and complemented by the strings section of the orchestra.

After spending days sailing on the perfectly smooth water inside the lagoon, around bright bommies that littered the horizon and to beaches of pure white and pink sand where palm trees gently swayed, we found ourselves about to sample the gem of the orchestra. The soloist in the form of the treasures of pearls.

After being introduced to the painful looking tools of pearl harvesting we started the painful process of pearl extraction*. The oysters jaws were prized apart and the creature was then prodded and poked to see if there was a gem hidden within its folds of flesh. From the nastiest of flesh, gems of every shade were pulled, but they all had one thing in common. Like the soloist they were alone and had crowned our whole Fakarava orchestral experience.

* Not so painful for us but pretty painful for the poor oyster who is on the receiving end of the tools.