Fakarava

A line of rings scattered in the endless blue. What once were islands have long since eroded into turquoise lagoon, leaving behind only their coral fringe which has now developed into its own narrow strip of land. 

Yesterday afternoon, we passed through a break in the north side of Fakarava. With a lagoon of 1112 km² and only a few narrow channels, tidal currents force water through these narrow gaps every ebb and flood cycle. We had to be careful to enter close to slack water, when currents are temporarily becalmed with the turning tide. The wavelets, however, still spiked like stiff meringue, indicating wind and current in opposition. Either side of the 850-meter pass were swirling eddies and deep patches of glassy smooth water. The pass was, in one crew member’s words, ‘Exciting, but thankfully not too exciting.’.

On exiting the channel, and entering the lagoon, the colour of the water shifted immediately to a postcard-turquoise. Admiring the thin band of white sands and palm trees that now surrounded us, we dropped anchor and waited for clearance into the country. 

That evening, we stepped foot ashore, finding a spot for a wifi and a cocktail before returning to the ship for the grand spectacle of the Bark Europa Braai. There was a night of good food, conversation and laughter, but an early bed-time – we were eager for rest after nearly two weeks of sea watches, and eagerly anticipating the coming day.

Waking to pancakes for breakfast this morning, we prepared for a day of island exploration. Once ashore, we peeled off into smaller groups. Between walking, snorkelling, cycling, and hitchhiking, many of us planned to see as much of the atoll as possible. For others, a more leisurely day of reading in a shady spot and enjoying a quiet lunch was the more appealing option.

Fakarava is a picture-perfect island destination. Murals of dolphins decorated the small town’s buildings, and the lampposts were painted pastel pink. The island had just enough amenities for a comfortable stay – a gas station store, freshwater tap, bike rental shop, and, importantly, a couple of restaurants willing to open on a public holiday. Tourism is clearly one of the main industries here (alongside its black pearl farms), but the atoll has retained its rural character. Most businesses here are run from people’s residential properties – discreet signposts inform us on the services they provide. A singular road ribbons Fakaravas circumference, lined by vegetation, interspersed with buildings, backed by open ocean. The inner coastline is soft, lapped by small wind waves, ornamented with large corals and lined in parts by white sand beaches. The outer coast has a different character – choppy sapphire waters eat back at the reef, carving shelves and dropping off deeply. This Jekyll and Hyde landscape shows just how much variability the ocean holds, even within a small area.

Inevitably, we bumped into one another throughout the day, taking the opportunity to exchange stories of reef sharks and giant clams, or picturesque beaches, or friendly strangers, or delicious food.  By nightfall, we all found our way back to the cocktail bar by the dingy dock. What an end to the day it was- sharing a Mojito or Piña Colada with close friends before a starry zodiac ride back home to our old lady. What an introduction to the Tuamotus.