We started off motoring, upgraded to motor-sailing, and by early afternoon—drumroll please—we were actually sailing. FINALLY

For some reason, this Pacific season is playing hard to get. The wind feels a bit more… creative than I remember from 13 years ago. Maybe it’s climate variability, maybe we’re stuck in that awkward “in-between” phase of La Niña and El Niño, or maybe we just showed up two months too early to the party.

Either way, the trade winds haven’t exactly been living up to their reputation.

Also, I’ve discovered something mildly annoying about myself: I’m worse at short passages than long ones. On long trips, I settle in, find a rhythm, and feel content much quicker. On short ones, I apparently just get impatient and forget how sailing works in terms of „the wind doesn’t come as ordered“. Good to know. Definitely a mindset thing… allegedly fixable.

The day itself was uneventful. Not in a dramatic “nothing exploded” way—just… slow. Very slow. But hey, we’re already into night three, and depending on where we aim, there aren’t that many miles left.

Now comes the fun part: atoll navigation.

Imagine taking a bowl and pushing it the rim up into a bathtub. Most of the rim sticks out, but here and there you’ve got little gaps or indents in that rim where water rushes in and out. And there you have it—that’s an atoll.

Add tides and wind shoving water through those gaps, and suddenly you’ve got currents of up to 7 knots trying to decide your fate for you. Sprinkle in a few coral bommies (sharp, unforgiving, and everywhere), and you’ve got yourself a proper welcome committee.

So the plan is simple: arrive at slack tide (when the current is the slowest), and with the sun behind us so we can actually see what we’re trying not to hit. Ideally late morning or early afternoon—basically, not when everything is working against you.

Some atolls, such as Makemo or Hao, have wider and more accessible passes. Hao, in particular, was developed by the French military and even designated as a potential emergency landing site for NASA’s Space Shuttle during transoceanic abort scenarios—though it was never used for that purpose.

Others, like Tahanea, are untouched and a bit more… honest. Beautiful, but they expect you to know what you’re doing.

Uki’s leg is almost back in action, so Tahanea is still on the list—but we might make a tactical pit stop in Makemo first to get our timing right.

And honestly? Makemo looks pretty amazing, so being “forced” to spend a few days there sounds like a problem we’re willing to have.