Plume

In the Land of the Moai

The difficulties of anchoring at Easter Island make it a rare stopover in the South Pacific; it would have taken more to discourage the crew of Plume, who managed to stay there for a few days.

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Publié le 04/06/2026

Par Gilles Ruffet

Numéro : 208

Parution : Aug. / Sep. 2026

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Who: Flo and her family
Multihull: Athena 38 from 1997
Where: Easter Island
Blog: www.fb.me/voyagedeplume

After 18 months in Central America and a magnificent stopover in the Galapagos Islands where we particularly appreciated the unique biodiversity found nowhere else in the world, we finally set sail for another crossing in the world’s largest ocean, the Pacific. We headed almost due south, as we had planned to stop at one of the most isolated inhabited islands in the world, the mythical Easter Island – Rapa Nui in Polynesian. While the first three days were relatively calm (and under the watchful eye of a US Army sailing drone), we quickly encountered brisk trade winds that never let up. Sailing became demanding: 20 to 25 knots of wind on a broad reach, all on a confused sea with a 13-foot (4-meter) swell coming up from the Southern Ocean. Despite this, our little Athena 38 valiantly cut through the storm, even achieving our record average speed for such a long crossing, over 7 knots if you exclude the first few windless days. And above all, the ultimate pleasure on a boat, we didn’t have a single breakage or major damage to report throughout the entire crossing. The girls were extraordinary, keeping up with their schoolwork every day, despite the difficult conditions. On the last night, we slowed down, with only a small scrap of genoa, getting tossed about in gusts of around 30 knots. It was the price to pay for savoring an early morning arrival, when the first rays of sunlight set ablaze the 15 Moai aligned at the Ahu Tongariki site. We made a slight detour to get closer, despite the wind and swell pushing us toward the shore. The Chilean Navy gave us the GPS coordinates of our anchorage, ensuring we anchored in the sand and didn’t damage the coral. When we were about to drop anchor, the wind was still howling at a good 20 knots, and we had to let out 330 feet (100 meters) of chain and rope to drop anchor in 72 feet (22 meters) of water, in an anchorage completely exposed to the swell and wind. Fortunately, the wind was blowing offshore that day, offering us relative calm. After the officials came aboard in a warm and welcoming atmosphere, we were able to tackle the challenge of going ashore. To enter the small fishing port, you have to cross a sandbar. When the swell came in, we found ourselves navigating the dinghy right through the middle of the surfers. In fact, another crew’s dinghy, which had arrived a few days after us, capsized on the bar. A good dinghy with a good engine is definitely preferable. We were finally ashore on Rapa Nui, and we were able to walk to the foot of our first Moai. And we instantly forgot everything we had endured to get here. Because that’s the magic of long-distance cruising: the power of the present moment instantly erases the hardships of the passage, leaving only the best memories.