Rallies and Riggers

26^th June May 2024*

Carrefour Bay, Tahiti, French Polynesia – Opunohu Bay, Moorea, French Polynesia via Opunohu Bay, Moorea, Moorea, French Polynesia & Airpoirt Anchorage, Tahiti, French Polynesia

Rallies and riggers both have bad names within the cruising community. Rallies take away your freedom to wander and can remove your independence. Riggers seem to climb your mast, give you a big bill and it’s not until 1000’s of miles later you realise the predicament they’ve left you in. Our experience in Tahiti and Moorea has turned the aforementioned reputation of both rallies and riggers upside down.

We’d signed up for the ‘Tahiti – Moorea Rendezvous’ rally which, as all the boats congregated in the harbour, felt more like the ‘Tahiti – Moorea Race’. Putting on our best racing hats with a cruising twist we lined up on the ‘start line’ and made for Moorea. While those around us opted for the sail trimming and spinnaker route to make gains on the boats around them, we opted for the watermaker and engine option. Using the excuse we needed to make water our trusty Volvo pushed us stealthily into clean air where the wind could fill our sails and we could extend on the boats that we’d left in our motoring wake.

As the huge hills of Moorea grew bigger it turned into a game of waterline length. All the big boats and fast catamarans overtook us, but then we were in for a shock. Moana, a tiny German IOR weapon slid past us and we then relied on our usual excuse of facing backwards and reading books on our lacklustre performance.

In Moorea the competitive games continued and thinking that Moana were fast we teamed up with them and Arvonna in classic Polynesian outrigger canoes. Paddling through heat after heat Moana pulled like they were in a varsity rowing team and thanks for their efforts we bagged ourselves a 3rd place podium position (where there were only three boats in the final).**

Immersing ourselves in Polynesian culture we tried the lifting rock (and putting your back out) game and the racing with coconuts (and twisting your ankle) game. Now exhausted we sat back to the rhythm of drums that were so loud they shook the trees and dancers so energised we, like them, were ready for both love and war. It felt like we we not just spectating on ancient Polynesian culture, we were very much part of it. The rally had given us insight and access to a culture that previously we’d been aloof from.

Making our way back to Tahiti we had a big day planned with a rigger who was highly recommended by the cruising community. In preparation for his expertise we made lists, measured everything and dropped sails. We just hoped that after our last rigging experience the mast would remain upright, we wouldn’t be delayed for weeks and it would result in a happier, healthier and stiffer Ruffian (none of which happened in Guatemala).

As soon as Emilien (Fenua Rigging) stepped on boat he filled us with confidence and pointed out a litany of errors. Pins had been installed the wrong way, bolts hadn’t been seized and there was lots to do. He was pretty impressed with the dyneema rigging we’d put in place, but we knew that without all the right rigging components building enough tension in the dyneema would always be problematic and so with cap shrouds loosened, lowers disconnected and a floppy backstay he bravely scaled the mast and simply slipped on new wire lowers. Work could now begin on tensioning and tuning everything.

With the upmost care our furling gear was taken to bits and the bottle screws that control, both the fore and aft tension and the rake of the mast were exposed. All the tiny, irreplaceable components were carefully placed in tupperware boxes and we’d made sure that they were far away from the water. We knew that if we lost any of the bits then big delays, logistical pain and a non operational boat would be the result.

Wanting to know more about how Ruffian was rigged and what the critical rigging settings were Fiona examined the setup that is usually hidden under the foils and furlers and then disaster struck. As she stepped back, instead of finding a nice flat deck, her foot found one of the carefully placed tupperware boxes and all the tiny components were catapulted into the deep water that Ruffian sat in.

With expletives flying and fully aware of the consequences she identified some weed on the seabed where the she felt the components had landed and Iain rushed on deck. Quick as a flash Iain pulled out dive tanks, his BCD, and weights and dived in hoping to retrieve all the tiny bits. The one thing he missed (in his red haze) was Fiona’s forward thinking weed identification.

Making scans back and forth on the seabed he reverted back to the skills learnt in Bonaire, but without any reference points or a compass, keeping track of where he was proved tricky. As the minutes slipped by his air supply dwindled and his body temperature dropped. After an hour underwater he emerged with no components and thinking his future included limited sailing, low fun and lots of pain. Fiona meanwhile was snorkelling on the surface directly over the spot she’d identified, desperately trying to attract Iain’s attention below, even drowning our search light, but to no avail.

After strapping on another tank and having taken an expert briefing from Fiona, we dropped a buoyed weight to the bottom and once again Iain started searching. Around and around the point he circled, each time counting his strokes and slowly increasing is search area. Then, just where Fiona suspected the parts had fallen, there they were, glinting in the sunshine and innocently sitting onto of the sand. Scooping up the screws, the furler stops and the imperial bolts he felt like he’d won the lottery. Then as he waited at 5 meters for a safety stop he really knew he’d won the lottery. A huge Stingray swam by sucking up the sand looking for tasty morsels just where the parts had sat and then Ruffian moved her chain burying everything that was on the surface. We’d averted disaster and Ruffian would once again be seaworthy.

With the sails back up and the mast and rigging tuned by Fenua Rigging, Ruffian felt like a totally different boat. The forestays didn’t pump and everything remained tight as we bounced our way over the waves on our way back to Moorea. As the wind increased instead of the mast bending and sails sagging we simply accelerated. Not only had Emillien of Fenua tuned and tightened the rigging he’d given us the gift of confidence. It would appear that Riggers like Rallies, in the Society islands, shouldn’t have a bad name.

* Iains birthday fell in the middle of all the rally and rigging fun and until Fiona was reminded by Facebook, she had no idea. (Editors note, this is not true, she had tried to buy him a T-Shirt for his birthday, but he didn’t like it!)

** Actually we were second, the other team cheated and didn’t go to the turning mark!