Now change the welcome from Bula to Bonjour!

New Caledonia has some marked differences from the other Pacific islands we visited in 2011. For a start it is French, and relatively wealthy owing to the extensive nickel mining. As we approached we noticed a glow in the sky at night meaning bright electric lighting and, by implication, the other conveniences of a more advanced economy.

Nouméa, in the southwest, is the capital, and could easily be mistaken for a smart seaside resort in the south of France. However the city center is scruffy and rather unpleasant with groups of surly young Melanesians hanging around on street corners. It’s a sharp contrast with the tidiness of the much poorer cities in Tonga and Fiji, and the cheeriness of their people. Very good shops are around but take some finding, and there is a nice dockside market near the marina.

Internet access was surprisingly problematic. The bar at the marina did offer a limited service, so for the cost of something to eat or drink, we could, with difficulty, pick up emails. One thing which reinforced the Frenchness of the town was the characteristic sewagey smell, specially around the marina. Anyone nostalgic for the ‘Boulogne Pong’ would have appreciated the ambience.

Life in Nouméa was not cheap, but the wealth was evident in abundance of new cars and stylish modern villas. There were Melanesian women in their long colourful ‘Mother Hubbard’ dresses with frills and lace, beside the chic willowy French ladies strutting in their designer clothes along the fashionable ‘Anse Vata’ promenade which runs beside the city’s golden beach. The large harbour was stuffed full of local yachts on moorings.

So we left Nouméa fairly quickly to cruise through the extensive lagoon that surrounds New Caledonia up to 40 miles out with a sheltering coral reef on its outer edge and dotted with sandy islets within. It is a World Heritage site, harbouring all sorts of unique fauna and flora.

Tjibaou Cultural Centre, Nouméa

First we had to negotiate the narrow Woodin Channel. With a fresh F6 opposing a 4kt flood tide, we could see the breaking overfalls in the entrance for some miles off. A motor boat dashed over to us “Stay away, très dangereux, the waves are … ‘orrendous!”, shouted the skipper in a heavy French accent. But the heroes of the Makemo and Fakarava Passes plunged on, and indeed it was truly tumultuous.

Beyond we found some wonderful anchorages. In Prony Bay there were many interesting places to anchor, hot springs, waterfalls, attractive walks, an abandoned penal settlement and an abandoned resort to visit, marrows growing wild and clams to be had on mud flats. The scenery was great, and birds sang and the water calm, even when the wind blew. We noticed how red the earth was, even redder than in England’s West Country. There were great gashes of bare red earth looking like a recent earthquake had shaken the land and caused many areas to crack apart and create landslides. Even the anchor came up stained red from the mud.

From there we went to the Ile des Pins, nicknamed l'île la plus proche du paradis, 40 miles at the very southern end of the lagoon. It was luxuriant and different from any other we have seen in the Pacific. The pretty anchorage at Kuto Bay, with its fine white beach and strange, ‘sacred’ islet is a favourite with cruise liners, which attract the islanders (who live elsewhere) to set up stalls among the pines, and enabled us to cadge food and other freebies set out for the passengers. It is popular for snorkeling, though the coral is nothing like as good as in Fiji. We did spot a rare dugong here as well as turtles, rays and dolphins in the water. There were pleasant walks ashore, where the dense vegetation, a mix of arucaria, pandamus, banyan, octopus bush, etc gave an alien and primitive feel. We would hardly have been surprised had a stegosaurus crashed out of the undergrowth.

We did get dumped by the shore break here, for the first time for ages, and that was the end of Andrew’s new camera, just a month old.

Amedée Island, on the outer reef, we visited without Sentinel. We had a busman’s holiday and went on the tourist boat. It was relaxing to let someone else do the driving and prepare the huge buffet lunch, complete with the inevitable dancing display.

Amedée is no more than a tiny sandy strip, famous for having the tallest metal lighthouse in the world, erected in 1869 (the pic shows the inside, lookng down). It is still working, though the pass it marks into the lagoon is no longer the main one.

Afterwards we headed back to Nouméa to stock up with French wine, canned duck and other delights of a superior civilization, before getting our clearance papers and heading off to Australia.

Navigation Notes.

Compared with other islands in the south Pacific, Nouméa is a major yachting center with first-class facilities. The sailing season is May-November, outside the cyclone season.

Most visiting yachts head first for Port Moselle marina in Nouméa, which will arrange clearance. When first approaching from Vanuatu or Fiji, we would endorse the warning in the pilot book about the severe overfalls in the Havannah and Woodin channels when tide is opposing strong winds.

Navigation marks are extensive and well maintained. Even so, because of the complexity of the reefs, large-scale charts are essential. For our exploration of the south we used two: BA2906 Ile des Pins to Canal Woodin and BA2907 Canal Woodin to Passe de Uitoé (which includes Nouméa). If there is a better English-language cruising guide than Warwick Clay's "South Pacific Anchorages" we didn't see it. The annual "Guide du Lagoon", available free at Port Moselle, is indispensible for understanding the location and rules governing protected zones, as well as giving tides.