Post Script

 

Mid-morning this morning we decided that being such a beautiful day, and the wind being a nice breeze from the right direction, we would get underway for the nice relaxing 10 mile trip to Tahiti. We had to come here anyway so why not make the trip on a nice day right? Well, we were right, it was an absolutely beautiful day for a sail(although not for fishing).As our peaceful, relaxing, easy-going sail was nearing its end. We noticed that the swell was actually rather large, and the nearer we approached the pass the larger the swells appeared to be. Once we were within observational range, we furled our sails and stowed our fishing gear to make a cautious approach. After having a good look from seaward we decided that based on our previous experience and knowledge of the area, and our observations, that there should be no problem.

We could see that the swell was high, and the waves thundering over the reef unlike anything we had seen before, but in the pass there appeared to be no danger; Only the close proximity of such immense power as these seas to rattle our nerves. Well, as every mariner knows there comes a point in many situations from which there is no going back. The point of no return, the commitment, the hail mary, the point at which all things come together to allow or disallow said souls to continue to inhabit this earth. We were there. We had to make a decision. To go was to commit 100 percent to the unknown, to go back was to go another day without cold drinks. We went for it. As benign as the pass had appeared from seaward, upon entering we found the truth to be anything but benign. The current was pushing against the swell, and Pahto, the small yacht that could, with her engine turning full power, carrying on for all she was worth, could only just push against the current. As our small battle continued, we could see that in all directions there was nothing but the angry foaming whitewater that showed us the reefs, and many a mariners unfortunate end. We had only one direction to go, straight down the chute, to run the gauntlet of reefs and rapids, rips and whirlpools. The current tossed us like a toy dock on a pond, and we fought on, having no choice but to carry on. The battle seemed to carry on for hours and in reality could have been no more than fifteen minutes. We steered hard to starboard as the currents tried to carry us on to the reef to port. Then just as quick, turn hard a port as the currents tried to throw us on the reef to starboard. The tension on board could have been cut with a knife. We held our breaths, just 3 more boat lengths; oh such long boat lengths they were. We could see the end and yet could not reach it. Our desire to be free of the grasp of this horrible current was like nothing I had ever wished before.

Finally, we pushed passed the rips and eddies, whirlpools, and reefs that could have so easily have been our demise, and we pushed into the familiar lagoon of Punauia. Happy to have made it through our brief yet overly exciting adventure. We cruised around like a dog preparing to sleep until we found a spot that was just so, where the stars aligned and told us we should drop the hook, and relax into an afternoon of beer and cards. Well deserved I must say. We may have given up a day or two of our lives in the long run as a result of an extra dose of stress.The adventure that is every day in our lives afloat is worth all of the stress and turmoil that we only occasionally have to find a way to cope with.