8 September - Civilization

0600 position 17-30S 149-49W. At anchor in 45 feet , Cook's Bay, Moorea

Tahiti's population is about 150,000, most of which are in Papeete. They
generate a lot of garbage, and some of it ends up in the sea. Once on
the sail to Point Venus, and twice yesterday on our way to Moorea, I found
myself diving to turn the autopilot off so I could steer manually and
avoid hitting large tree branches that were floating directly ahead of us.
The branches weren't large enough to hole and sink Moku pe'a, but they
could have taken off a lot of paint, broken the speedometer, or damaged
the propeller. One definitely doesn't want to be sailing in Tahiti's
coastal waters at night when you wouldn't be able see to avoid the big
stuff. I was amazed at how much vegetation debris was out there. You
don't see that kind of garbage in the waters around Hawaii. Perhaps it's
acceptable here to dump green waste into rivers, streams, or the ocean?

Otherwise we had a glorious sail wing and wing all the way to Cook's Bay
on Moorea arriving just after noon. We anchored at the head of the bay
among eight other cruising boats and then went ashore to seek out the
local Gendarme, who we were told we needed to check in with by the
Gendarme in Raivavae. After a twenty minute walk we found his office
closed for lunch. Walked back to the other end of the bay to find the
supermarkets all closed because it was Sunday, and walked back to the
Gendarme's again after he reopened. He looked at our papers, smiled and
said "c'est bon", and that was that. He didn't write anything down or
stamp anything. I think we are done checking in with the local Gendarmes.

We'd walked many miles by now, and it was hot, so we stopped in a little
bar/restaurant that we had already passed three times and had a cold one.
Inside we met a Frenchman on the Beneteau 41 anchored next to us. He had
sailed out here from France and was on his way back to the Caribbean via
Chile, Cape Horn, Argentina, and Brazil.

It was calm at the head of the bay when we anchored and went ashore, but
while we were having a beer it started to blow. We could see that the
easterly trades were still blowing outside the bay, but at the head of
the bay the wind was blowing strongly from the west, apparently a swirling
affect of the winds hitting the high mountains around us. It blew hard
all night with some puffs as high as thirty knots. We haven't moved, but
at first light this morning I can see that our pal the Frenchman's
Beneteau is aground in front of us. It doesn't look like he knows it yet,
there's no movement aboard. He must be a sound sleeper. He'll be fine
though. There's no sea here in the bay so no significant damage is
likely. It will be interesting to see how he manages to get off.