Fakarava 9 avril 16° 30.4'S 145°27.4'W
Canopus 3 on the Blue Water Rally
Jean Michel Coulon
Thu 10 Apr 2008 04:46
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We arrived at Fakarave mid-morning on 8 April after
an all-motor transit that was eventful only for the number of times we had to
adjust the autopilot's course to compensate for strong currents between
atolls--in a few hours we went from reducing our heading by six degrees to
increasing it by eight, confirmation of our cruising guides' warnings. In
one case we might have hit a reef if we had relied only on the compass.
Our luck in timing our arrival at a pass into a lagoon, in this case Tumakohua
Pass on the southeast side of Fakarava, was again good--the flow was into the
lagoon at two knots, not exactly the slack water ideal but close enough.
We anchored inside the reef a short distance from it and the Pension Tetamanu
Village, where the view from the boat would feed the fantasies of anyone lusting
for a tropical paradise. We subsequently were told the snorkeling
between boat and shore was excellent, and indeed it was when we finally donned
masks and fins that afternoon. But first things first--it was almost
lunchtime, the pension supposedly served decent food, so Jean-Michel phoned and
understood he had arranged lunch. When we arrived, however, the cook had
not been informed; the dietary staple at both lunch and dinner is fresh fish
collected from a series of fish traps in the pass, it was too late to fetch us
some, so back to the boat for lunch after making dinner reservations.
After lunch the fatigue from the overnight passage
caught up with us, so by the time we began snorkeling the sun was no longer
providing maximum visibility underwater, but we all returned to the boat amazed
by what we had seen. Rising up from the lagoon floor are coral pinnacles
supporting a wide variety of types and colors of coral and hosting so many kinds
of fish that my attempt to remember just the ones (fish and coral) I had never
seen before quickly proved hopeless. I could happily spend days just
exploring more thoroughly what I saw today, and the pass is supposed to be much
more impressive. Among the never befores: a 2.5-3-foot black merou
(can't remember what that is in English) with what looked like a filefish with a
large paddle-like tailfin resting on top of the merou; as the merou swam away,
the filefish maintained its position as if it were a lamprey on a shark.
And speaking of sharks, we were greeted by a small (less than 3 feet) blacktip
as soon as the anchor went down, and it was soon joined by two others.
When we went to the pension at lunchtime we discovered that the dining area,
built over the water amid patches of coral, was immensely popular with
blacktips, which seemed to be everywhere. Tonight at dinner we learned
why--all table scraps are tossed into the water, each offering greeted with a
brief but frenzied thrashing.
This morning (9 April) the dive master (Marc)
dropped Michel and me off in the northeast side of the pass on his way to take
Jean-Michel for his first-ever dive with sharks, which Jean-Michel admitted he
viewed with some trepidation. But he returned very enthusiastic about his
experience, aside from a few amusing moments captured on video of his attempts
to fend off two lampreys that apparently viewed him as a promising alternative
to a shark. As for Michel and I, we had never before seen the variety of
fish and coral that awaited us in the pass.
Instead of the pinnacles we saw yesterday, we had
solid reef on one side sloping down to the floor of the pass 50+ feet below,
which we could see almost as clearly as what was near us. The coral was in
excellent condition, most of it ranging in color from white to cream to beige,
but enough in violet or green hues to keep us very impressed. And the
fish, in what is becoming a most pleasing progression, were the most varied and
numerous yet. Among the "firsts" for me--a huge (almost three feet long)
Napoleon wrasse that came lumbering by and then, a few minutes later, returned
whence he came, and the most brightly colored fish I have yet seen, with
vertical bands of gold, neon blue, a lighter shade that was either light blue or
gray, black, and others I cannot recall. All of about six inches long and
shaped somewhat like an angel fish, it was spectacular. A blacktip shark
occasionally came by for a closer look but nothing more. Marc
had suggested that we not use our fins at all but simply let the current
carry us back to his dive shop at the pension, but we added the wrinkle of
swimming against the flow to prolong our pleasure and ended up spending more
than an hour in the water. Near the end a squall struck, and between the
cold rain and a much colder current that suddenly jolted me as I was drifting
along in pleasingly warm water, I was a bit overdue by the time I climbed out of
the water.
While we were waiting at the pension for the
current in the pass to become convincingly inbound, Marc talked about his
frustrations over the Polynesian owner's absence of anything beyond the most
rudimentary business sense. The fellow Marc had replaced did an average of
37 escorted dives a month, while Marc in his second month did more than ten
times as many. His contract, like his predecessor's, specifies a fixed
salary plus ten percent of dive revenues, and the second month the owner seemed
extremely troubled that Marc's ten percent amounted to more than his fixed
salary. After endless attempts to explain that the size of his ten percent
was dwarfed by the balance, even after fuel and other (minor) expenses were
deducted, Marc decided to adopt his predecessor's preference for not seeking,
and in some cases actually turning down, business. One month of that and
the owner finally saw the light, but virtually all of Marc's other
suggestions for improving service and otherwise upgrading the pension have
been met with indifference. Marc, who worked for years as a professional
diver on contract to giant firms such as Exxon, plans soon to relaunch a scuba
travel business previously focused on the Red Sea but this time on Costa
Rica. He came to Papeete intending to work as a diver for a pearl farm but
encountered so many obstacles, including anti-metropolitan French prejudice
(he's from the Marseille area), that he accepted his current position when
a friend contacted him about it.
A very pleasant lunch at the pension--poisson cru,
grilled fish, and curried rice--convinced us to stay until tomorrow, when we
will take an allegedly clearly marked channel across the lagoon to the main
village and the other pass, where ideally more adventures await.
(JM)
J'ai donc plongé pour la première fois au milieu des requins dans la passe
sud de Fakarava. Même pas peur...
Marc, le moniteur de plongée, m'a demandé hier si cela m'intéressait
et m'a donné suffisamment confiance pour accepter de plonger avec lui
aujourd'hui vers 11h. Son aide tahitien nous a largué tous les deux à l'entrée
de la passe, côté extérieur, et nous sommes descendus tout de suite vers 20-25
mètres. Eau cristalline, courant entrant assez fort (il a fallu attendre pour
cette raison, les courants sortants étant dangereux), et nous avons vu défiler
des fonds de corail magnifiques, sans fournir le moindre effort. Au bout de 5
minutes, nous avons vu le premier requin, puis toute une troupe, qui allaient
contre le courant, paisiblement. Ils nous ont tous observés, et ont commencé à
tourner autour de nous. Voir photo ci-dessous, prise par Marc. Je ne les ai pas
trouvés menaçants, sauf les yeux, pas très bienveillants. Environ 2 m de
long.
 Ce sont des requins gris, différents des requins à pointe noire qui vivent
près du rivage. Leur territoire est la passe, dans laquelle ils viennent se
nourrir. Il y a deux passes seulement à Fakarava, qui est un atoll de 50 km de
long, et il y a toujours du courant, entrant ou sortant. Les requins
viennent y chasser, mais heureusement, on ne semble pas faire partie de leur
chaîne alimentaire, comme m'a dit Marc pour me rassurer. Nous étions entourés à
un moment par au moins 50 requins, puis ils ont disparu, après une dizaine de
minutes. Marc m'a donné le film qu'il a tourné. On m'y voit me débattre, devant
un fond d'une douzaine de requins, avec une lamproie (?) qui voulait se
coller à moi avec sa ventouse. Elle a dû prendre ma combinaison de plongée pour
une peau de requin.
Très content de cette plongée, la plus belle que j'aie jamais faite. Mais
je n'étais pas complètement serein, ce matin, avant d'y aller...
Demain, nous partons de bonne heure pour l'autre extrémité de l'atoll, en
passant par l'intérieur (comme le dit Robby!) |