We are blown away.

We have reached our first coral atoll ever: Raroia. In 1947, so did Thor Heyerdahl and crew when they sailed the balsa raft Kon-Tiki from Peru to Raroia in 101 days to prove a point. Indeed, when they finally crash- landed the Kon-Tiki on one of Raroia’s small coral islets aka “motu” they demonstrated to the world that it could’ve been done. However, HAD it been done by the forefathers of the present-day Polynesians? Not really, so it seems. Modern DNA-research points in the direction of Southeast Asia and especially Taiwan as jumping off point for those great navigators of old, not Peru. One sunny day, 6000 years ago, some adventurous Southeast Asians boarded their sophisticated canoes, loaded some coconuts, and started their epic migration towards the sun and into Polynesia. We find this ancient spirit of human nomadism simply mind-blowing.

We are equally blown away by the fact that atolls to crash onto exist at all. A mere 450 nautical miles separate the Marquesas from the Tuamotus, yet the total change in scenery couldn’t be more dramatic. Instead of being surrounded by lush volcanic peaks, all the while tugging at her chain in restless waters, O2 lies now gently floating in an infinity pool of clear azure, bordered by a string of coral islets that keep the ocean swell at bay. On one of those islets, approximately 250 people have settled in a regular village complete with solar panels, satellite dishes, telephone booths, a preschool, a Catholic church, a cemetary, a pearl farm, and even an airport.

It took us four days and three nights of struggling with a jumpy wind blowing from all directions to get here. At times that fickle wind would completely die down, at times it would build into a frightening squall as the ocean went crazy. And nearly did we. 

But oh boy, what a reward it is to have finally arrived. Unlike Thor, my captain didn’t crash-land, but timed our entrance into the lagoon perfectly with the turning tides. At high and low tide, the ocean rushes in and out of the lagoon through a pass in the ring of corals at a peak speed of 8 knots. Timing matters, even once you’re inside the lagoon. To safely navigate among patches of corals, also known as coral heads or bommies, you need to be able to see them of course. This can be done using satellite imagery or polarized sunglasses when the sun is directly overhead or astern, or ideally both. Navigating through the lagoon of Raroia proved to be easy-peasy as the coral patches are huge and can’t be missed. 

Another essential step is to check the seafloor for a sandy spot before dropping anchor. Our first attempt failed. To get a closer look, I went scouting with fins and a snorkel, which turned out to be the right approach. My Captain steered O2 towards the spot where I was sputtering and treading water, and down the anchor rattled, successfully this time. 

Afterward, my Captain took a quick dive down to reassure himself that the anchor was indeed well buried in thick layers of sand, which it was. That’s when a massive grey reef shark suddenly swerved in, circling closer and closer, checking him out. It was too close for comfort, really, to the point that my Captain felt the need to bring his right hand into position to lightly tap the shark on the nose if need be. He had watched YouTube videos demonstrating this trick. Apparently, a human hand on the nose brings a shark into a trance of ‘tonic immobility’. We still don’t know whether caressing the nose is a valid defense, since the shark decided to keep his distance. Meanwhile, I got spooked by an aerodynamic, black-tipped reef shark as we were both patrolling the fringes of the reef, looking for fish. After these close encounters of the first kind, both my Captain and I hurried back on board O2 and immediately started checking the internet for shark data. It appears there’s no immediate cause for alarm. Later on, we asked a local for additional advice. ‘Oh, sure, accidents do happen. I was bitten in the leg once. But that was my fault. I went spearfishing and kept my catch too close to my body. As long as you are not spearfishing, you’re good.’ Nonetheless, this will take some getting used to. The Tuamotus are mind-blowing indeed.