Moorea II

 We arrived at Vai’are Bay in Moorea—the one with the dolphins at the entrance—on November 19th and stayed for a week. (I’ve decided to start noting dates for my own future reading; dear readers, feel free to ignore them.)

For the first four days it poured nonstop, with strong winds, and we barely left the boat. Ayelet loved it—cooking (for example, an amazing lasagna with pumpkin and bok choy leaves), making industrial quantities of yogurt, then labneh, granola, baking cakes, doing laundry, hanging laundry, cleaning, fixing pumps. And—finishing a big project she’d been working on for two weeks: a book for our beloved granddaughter, Noor. It’s a photo book with text that tells Noor what we do when we “disappear” from her life, and reminds her of moments from our visit to Israel. Ayelet is a super-grandma, and spends a good chunk of every day happily watching the endless stream of videos Eliyana sends.

I managed to read more than usual and kept pushing forward with my Sisyphean Greek studies. After three days I needed air, so despite the rain I took the dinghy to the nearby village. There’s not much there, especially on a Sunday when everything is closed, except for the ferry terminal—which surprised me with how busy it is. It seems there are around ten crossings a day to Papeete, the capital of French Polynesia. It’s a short trip of about 30 minutes, and it looks like many Moorea residents work in Tahiti and commute daily.

Since I needed that “air,” I walked over to the ferry terminal and watched with interest and delight as the ferries arrived, moored, and unloaded people and cars. It amuses me that despite living on a boat for so long, this still fascinates me—just like years ago when we traveled to Greece with the kids and hopped from island to island by ferry. One of the wonders, in my eyes, is how such a huge vessel approaches at speed, maneuvers into the harbor, and ties up to the dock in under five minutes. With tiny “Ester,” it takes me much longer.

Air restored.

During the remaining days the weather improved so much that we even had blue skies with no wind—but thankfully it didn’t get too hot. We took the chance to go on many snorkels in gorgeous, healthy reefs, and also just sat on the boat watching, enchanted, through unbelievably clear water, the shallow sand below us and the nonstop show around the boat: a very serious-looking pufferfish who circles endlessly around the boat and the anchor chain as if personally responsible for security, Sting Rays, Eagle Rays, giant hermit crabs dragging huge shells, large metallic-blue trumpetfish, and much more. All this—without leaving our seats. At night we hang a light off the boat, which draws in even more fish.

And two days ago it was November 24th! A very important date: Ayelet’s birthday! The day began with a long, fun video call with all our kids and their partners. Ayelet—on her birthday and on any other day—makes sure to organize these calls every week or two, and our sweet kids happily go along with it.

Later there were more calls from well-wishers, an afternoon snorkel, and for dinner Ayelet made a festive birthday meal: lasagna, focaccia (my modest contribution), charred eggplant salad, labneh, avocado salad, vegetable salad, and cucumbers with feta, red onion, and olive oil. The olive oil, by the way, is a personal import from Kalamata, Greece. At the start of the voyage we bought twenty liters—and now it’s almost gone.

The next day we hiked to a tall waterfall with a fun pool beneath it. I’ll repeat myself: the flowers along the way and the amazing scent! Even when riding the dinghy half a kilometer offshore, suddenly a wonderful whiff of fragrance hits you.

And great news: the part from France—yes, the one we’ve been waiting two months for—has finally arrived in Tahiti! From a state of deep laziness we are now perked up, in a good way, and getting ready for the next chapter (assuming no surprises, knock on wood). We’re now sailing from Moorea to Tahiti to pick up the part and install it. After that we’ll be ready and waiting for a good weather window for the next big passage toward the Marquesas Islands. It’ll be a two- to three-day sail to the Tuamotus, and from there another 5–6 days to the Marquesas.