Aranui 5 Comes to Vaitahu

In French Polynesia, like in the Bahamas, there is a regular supply ship that comes around to the islands. Unlike in the Bahamas, one of these supply ships is also a cruise ship. Full on cabins, shore excursions, launch boats filled with over sunscreened tourists. Until recently, we haven’t paid a lot of attention to the schedule; we’ve got plenty of provisions aboard, and finding fresh fruit and veggies has not been difficult.

*Fresh lettuce ready for harvest at Vaitahu.*

What we didn’t anticipate, though, was the spectacle of the thing. (I apologize for the total lack of photos!)

We spent about a week anchored off of Vaitahu, one the small villages on the island of Tahuata. There are a couple of grocery stores (a misnomer; these stores have EVERYTHING from hardware to kitchen wares to sesame oil to fishing gear to regular groceries), a couple of restaurants, a small museum. An infirmary with a visiting nurse, a village administrative center, a store. Spinner dolphins and Pacific manta rays play in the bay on the regular. It feels pretty quintessential South Pacific.

*Jeremy next to a wood tiki in the museum.*

It’s a sleepy village on an island with a total population of around 700. Not much excitement. The dinghy dock is a bit challenging; the omnipresent Pacific surge can swirl water up over the dock and then 5 seconds later be 5 feet over your head. You need some good timing to get ashore. Still, being able to get groceries and walk around a charming village makes it worth the adventure!

One afternoon, friends on the newly-arrived catmaran Queen’s Dream zoomed by on the dinghy, going into town. About 5 minutes later, back they came. I’d seen Tim waving his arms at someone on the dock who also waved his arms back, and was a little mystified by the quick return especially since I knew they needed supplies. They’d been told “no landing allowed” since a “big boat was coming in”. Hmm. Then I saw the guys on the dock wave off a local, green-hulled boat, which went and tied to the rocks (!!!), so apparently something was happening.

Jeremy reported that the Aranui 5 (or at least some Class A AIS target) had left Atuona and was coming this way, doing 18 knots. EIGHTEEN KNOTS!

No sign of the boat. Lots of activity around the dock, with a forklift moving the large aluminum or stainless steel boxes closer to the end of the dock. Tons of trucks along the road.

“The boat is past the white beach bay and slowing down a bit. Now going 15 knots.”

“It’s going 8 knots, turning in.” A pause. “Now must really be in here - it’s going less than half a knot!”

Jeremy poked his head up and looked around in delight. “It’s anchored and a crane is working. Maybe offloading a boat - yes! I can see the bow of the launch boat peeking around the hull.”

*Aranui 5 silhouetted. Cruise ship cabins aft; supply ship space forward.*

The Aranui 5 is a combination supply/cruise ship, with half the boat piled high with waterfront cabins and the rest of it flat for cargo. I think they do a monthly circuit of the islands, starting in Papeete, circling through the Marquesas, hitting a couple of the Tuamotus, and then back to Tahiti and Moorea. We figured we’d see it at some point but didn’t quite realize how entertaining it would be!

A white hulled launch boat with a few people aboard came by. A landing craft, flat bottomed with 2 outboards on the stern, carrying a small cargo of a few boxes, zoomed by towards the dock, ostensibly to unload. A second empty landing craft leisurely came by us, heading maybe to the nearby mooring. The first landing craft abruptly u-turned away from the dock and headed back to the boat. The guy on the second boat yelled out (there was no way the other boat could hear over the outboards). The launch boat disgorged the few passengers before it too headed back. The landing craft driver, clearly abandoned for some reason he could not fathom, whistled and tried unsuccessfully to get the attention of THAT boat. In defeat, he slumped down in the shade and played with his phone.

In quick succession another landing craft, this one loaded so port-side heavy with massive wooden beams that it looked like it was in danger of dipping underwater, came by and headed to the dock. A bobcat, chains draped over the teeth of the bucket, came to the edge of the dock. The chains were hooked onto ends of a pile of the beams and the whole package was lifted off the landing barge and carried to a waiting forklift. Meanwhile, another launch boat, this one filled to the brim with passengers, approached the dock.I figured the landing barge would finish its unloading.

*Overloaded landing barge headed to the dock*

Nope. Passengers took priority. Landing barge pivoted (those 2 outboards come in handy) off the dock and seemed from our perspective to be hanging out in the surf zone, the off-kilter nature of the load making it even harder to stay put. Launch boat approached the dock, figuring out the timing of the surge, and then the disgorge of the pasty white tourists commenced. Half of them, when they set foot on the dock, just stood where they stepped ashore, making it almost impossible for anyone else to dismount, especially with the timing of the surge. Somehow, though, everyone made it off the boat, and launch boat 1 swirled away. Landing barge returned. The bobcat took an even larger load of wooden construction beams (I thought it might topple the bobcat over) up to the waiting forklift, and then returned to take another load before the landing barge had, once again, to make way for a passenger-laden launch boat.

Meanwhile a dinghy from a cruising boat zoomed in to try to pick up a crew member from onshore. A person fished from the rocks, casting what looked like a monkeys fist dangerously close to where the motorized boats were jockeying for position. Scores of people watched the whole affair from the berm overlooking the bay. We heard music coming from shore; a gander with the binoculars showed that the covered gathering space by the school and mairie was filled to the brim with people. We learned later that when the Aranui 5 comes in, there are dances and craft tents and more set up to entice the tourists into parting with their vacation dollars. Makes sense. I’m sure it would be interesting to be on shore when the boat comes in; friends on Lulu in Fatu Hiva this weekend mentioned that a “cruise ship” was coming in and an ensuing festival, which now that we’ve seen what happens with the Aranui 5 we are guessing that is the cruise ship.

We watched the dance unloading of cargo and passengers, cargo and passengers until it was time to go over to Queen’s Dream for sundowners.

*Sunset view from QD. Aranui 5 all lit up to the right. Photo cred Renee from Oceanaire.*

We came back to Calypso at a bit after 9, very late by our standards. The Aranui 5 was still lit up like a Christmas tree, its lights dominating the night sky far more than anything from the village. We watched as a truck hung in the air on the ship. Was it being repositioned? Offloaded? Then the lights of the landing barge moved, the truck descended off the side of the big boat, and we watched with amazement as the whole thing headed to the dock. How would they get the truck off of the barge? There’s not a crane on the dock, and the truck is sitting VERY high on the landing barge (almost on top of a container). The bobcat zoomed up the hill and picked up what we think was a pile of sandbags. Brought them back to the dock where the landing barge had pinned itself. Another load required. And then with a visible bump, the truck with its lights on was on the dock, heading up the hill to clear itself from the water.

I have no idea what they did with the container.

Jeremy watched as the landing barge went back to the Aranui 5 and was lifted into the air, placed on deck, and the lights went out.

What a scene.