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A back story easily worth a bottle of red

by SV Te Mana on 12 Sep 2017
Te Mana in Tuamotos Voyage of Te Mana
Editor's Note: Nick and Jess from SV Te Mana are new. New to this site, and new to cruising too! We are really thankful to them for speaking with us about using their great material, the back catalogue of which is below. So if you are lucking enough to be dangling over the water in the tropics in your hammock, or have to just visualise it as you have a nice red, then tuck into their tale of inspiration and can-do attitude that will either spur you on to go and do more yourself, or maybe begin your own adventure.

No Problem!

After a whirlwind week of flying and yacht buying, we were of course then faced with sailing our new purchase.

Things had to stall for a few days while the moneys transferred and our insurance was finalised. But during that time we were lucky enough to get an incredibly thorough handover of all the boat's systems by former owner Eric. This all took place of course in French, so Nick conversed freely while I just nodded and tried to soak up as much information as I could. Eric's main catch cry whenever we seemed uncertain about something was 'no problem!'.

Once the transfers and insurance processed and it was officially OUR yacht, we took it for our first sail - again with Eric there to literally show us the ropes. Everything seemed to be 'no problem!'. Although I think at this stage it was starting to become clear that we perhaps weren't as experienced at sailing as Eric!

The giveaway moment definitely came however the next day when it was time to leave Marina Taina on the main island of Papeete and set sail (without Eric)...

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The yacht was squeezed into a small berth between expensive boats on one side and the dock along the other. The only way out was to reverse a short way (before hitting the boat behind) and then turn hard to get the nose around (without hitting the boats alongside and in front). Nick stepped up (or was forced to) and took the honours here. First time behind the helm (Eric had maneuvered it out of the marina and I had steered under sail during our sea trail), with many onlookers, and the most tight and awkward spot in the marina! Nick did a great job getting us out without hitting anything, and although there were a few white knuckles... no problem, no problem!

We were lucky enough to also enlist the help of Nick's good friend Brenden - far more experienced at sailing than us with a few Sydney to Hobarts under his belt and a yacht of his own in Cairns. On hearing of our recent purchase, he didn't need much convincing to jump straight on a plane to help us get under sail during our first week on water. No hard sell needed.

So equipped with Eric's handovers, and now with more than capable crew onboard, we set sail into the beautiful blue waters of French Polynesia.

As the wet season was just about to start, our plan was to sail from Tahiti to Raiatea where the haul out and dry storage facility was located. Here we would leave the yacht on the hard for a few months during wet/cyclone season, before returning at the end of March in time for the start of cruising season.

Our first sail from Tahiti to Moorea was an easy start. Light winds, calm seas (man the water is blue!!!), and easy sight navigation (for the most part). And Moorea is STUNNING!!! Jagged peaks, sheltered anchorages, beautiful snorkeling, and even a fun few small waves. We couldn't have picked a better spot for our first few days of getting used to our new life onboard.

Our next destination was Huahine - home to some of French Polynesia's most well regarded surf spots. As sailing time was around 16 hours, an overnight sail was needed for this passage so that we would arrive in mid/late morning when the sun is high enough to safely see the passes into the lagoon between the outer coral reef.

Our preparation for this passage was perhaps a little less than ideal however. After following Nick for a 'quick' explore up one of Moorea's valleys, that ended up being around 4 hours of hiking, in the hot middle-of-the-day sun, in thongs, with 2L of water between the 3 of us (not much for the hot humid conditions!). This was then followed up by eating (driven by dehydrated hangry brains) what can be best described as 'dirty BBQ chicken' (instantly regrettable) from a vendor on the side of the road once we'd found our way out of the valley.

Our tender then ran out of fuel (woops), so Nick chose to make a little ironman out of the situation by running the few kms, then swimming out to the yacht, before SUPing back with a full jerry can of fuel to Brenden's and my rescue (we had done it tough during all of this by sitting under the shade of a coconut palm with our ankles lapping in the cool of the water).

Dehydrated, sun stroked, hot, and a little bit bothered we made it back to the boat around 4pm (when we were supposed to be sailing away). I raised slight concern that perhaps we should wait an extra day, but the boys assured me they were ok, so off we went. We had around 3L of drinking water left, but figured we would just use the water maker en route to make more. No problem!



We sailed out of stunning Cook's Bay into a beautiful sunset with around 15-20kt winds and light seas. All was glorious for the first few hours. Life couldn't be better.

Then after finishing the last of our drinking water, we came to the thirsty realisation that the watermaker (although it made water efficiently) was contaminated with bacteria and produced clear looking but foul smelling undrinkable water. Two cans of coke and a few Hinano beers was all the drinkable fluid we had left for the remaining 10 hours.

And then I was the first to slide into feeling a little less than perfect. Not the usual sea sick kind of 'off', but just 'off'. Most likely a result our day's sunstroke, poor food choices, and now persisting dehydration! Soon enough I'd offloaded my 'dirty chicken'. Nick lasted another few hours before getting rid of his too. And sturdy Brenden, although wishing he could get it out of his system, managed to keep it down and keep things in order on the boat - Thanks Brendo!!!

But aside from feeling a little poorly, the night was beautiful. Clear skies, sparkling stars, and moonlit silvery seas. Huahine was in view as the sun rose, and after anchoring safely next to the island's best left and right surf breaks, we settled in for a few days of relaxing and rehydrating.

The last passage was an easy 5 hours away to Raiatea, our final destination for this trip. This ended up taking a little longer due to a lack of wind and subsequent need to motor the majority of the way. And also from a few 'jump off the back' stops along the way - did I already mention how blue the water is?!!!

Raiatea's lagoon, being the second largest island after Papeete, was a little busier than Moorea or Huahine. But once we'd got a few local tips of where to go from Melodie (our yacht broker - Raiatea Yacht) we found some of the best snorkeling for the trip - a fun shallow drift snorkel between two motus, through an aquarium of fish, coral, and eels.

Then all too quickly it was time for Brenden to leave us to return to Australia. This meant we had another few days or so to get used to sailing as the two of us (no problem!), before it was time for haul out and prepping the yacht for storage on the hard in anticipation of our return in a few short months.

What's in a name?

It's well known that renaming a boat is considered bad luck. But so is bringing bananas on board (we already did that on day one), setting sail on a Friday (oh wait, we did that too), and having women on board (I own half of this yacht damn it!!!). So when it came to deciding whether to stick with the existing name or start afresh, we figured we shouldn't let superstitions stand in our way.

After deliberating for a while, and to be honest not really coming up with any valid suggestions that we both agreed upon, we somehow arrived at Te Mana. And straight away it seemed a good fit.



In Polynesian culture (from Hawaii, to Easter Island, to New Zealand - and all of the surrounding islands in between), 'Mana' refers to the soul or spirit, or can be though of as a life force or energy that can be embodied by a place, person, or object. For example, a sacred site or tribe's Chief could be said to have good mana.

And 'Te' means our.

So for the naming of our new trustworthy vessel, on whom we will be reliant for safe exploration of much of Polynesia, as well as our own desire to set sail rather than follow the pack, Te Mana seemed to embody our thoughts around our voyage perfectly.

Our new floating home's spirit. Our life force.

Its a big name, but no doubt we're in for a big adventure.

And so begins the voyage of Te Mana... now where's a bottle of good French Champagne to complete the renaming ceremony and appease the sea gods!

Leaving Land Life

The only thing left to do after having dreamt up our sailing adventure, searched and found a suitable vessel, and purchased and become acquainted with our new yacht, was to then sign out of our land lives before setting sail.

You would think this would be the easy part of the ever increasingly gigantic logistic project we had embarked on, especially as Nick and I have both moved and travelled so much previously, have no kids, no pets, or corporate ladder climbing aspirations. However we both found this a little more challenging than we’d expected.

Friends and family were mostly supportive, although a few (nearly all) were (understandably) a tad worried at our lack of sailing experience. Nick delivered the news to his parents in France early on over skype with the overwhelming enthusiasm only he can possess. Their reaction was definitely a little stunned. After seeing their jaws and blood pressure drop with this approach, I chose to hold off for a while to inform my family until I knew I had most of the answers to what would no doubt be their many questions. This seemed to work a little better, with the responses (after a few deep breaths) consisting of carefully chosen words, and ultimately expressions of encouragement. Telling friends was easy, as the majority immediately started penciling in their surfing/sailing holidays.



The next step was to then check out of our working worlds. Both Nick and I somewhat agonized about how and when best to tell our respective workplaces of our plans. Sports physio is a relatively fluid workforce so this was not as seemingly career ending for me compared to Nick where the engineering world is not quite as flexible. We both semi rehearsed our leaving the workplace speeches, expecting almost to be scalded for letting people down or acting so irresponsibly towards our careers. But really it turns out we were just rehearsing for our own benefit, as we were both met with enthusiasm from our bosses and twinkling eyes knowingly saying ‘go now… while you can’.

So, with our sailing aspirations all out in the open and the prospect of no regular income looming quickly, all that was left to do was pack up our home and downsize to as much as airline baggage would allow. We sold the big items, lent out to friends whatever they like the look of, and stored the things we wanted to keep – the biggest of which were our cars (I love the van too much… thanks Mum and Dad) and our relatively large quiver of 15 remaining surfboards (thanks Kate, Kayte, Emily and Shane!).

And then, looking possibly like the most excessively baggaged couple to ever hit Tahiti, we arrived. Goodbye fixed address, hello fun-employment. I think we’ll like it here.

Hot and sweaty boat yard bliss

It is HOT. And the humidity is over 80% making even the slightest movement a sweaty one. And there seems to be no wind. Or if there is any air movement, it is mostly blowing on the stern of our propped up land locked boat - meaning that none of the usually excellent hatches designed for wind on the bow are sucking in any air. Just as well we are exhausted. Making sleeping hot but somewhat achievable.

As the rainy season hasn’t quite ended yet, for a nice welcome back to French Polynesia it poured with rain for our first three days. And although it’s probably a relatively idyllic setting in comparison to many boatyards, with Bora Bora looking at us in the distance, the sound of waves crashing on the outer reef, and a local sunset swimming spot and fresh water showers just 50m away from our grounded yacht, its still a boat yard. And boatyards aren’t glamorous. Especially when they become a soggy mud pit. I seem to be the only female willing to be here.

But then there’s the deliciously cold and refreshing local rambutams and coconuts we get to pull out of our trusty workhorse fridge - the best pick me up from sweaty boatyard work snack in the whole world.



Nick is in his element. He has been like a ferret. I’m calling him Ferry from now on. Although we only really need to do a standard antifoul (plus a keel sand back and epoxy if we’re lucky), an acid wash and hull polish, some new stickers for the renaming of Te Mana, and standard engine maintenance, no matter where Nick looks he keeps finding other jobs that need doing. Some small, like the painting of interior shelves (from a bright blue to more inconspicuous white), and some not so small, like the removal of poorly laid sealant from the skylight windows with subsequent discovery of gel coat cracks and fiberglass delamination around these windows (which would have caused the need for our previous owners poor sealant effort).



So, we’re scrubbing, scraping, sealing, sanding, painting, polishing, sewing, splicing and sweating. Boy are we sweating!

I first started writing this after day 5. And at that point despite us adjusting to the heat and rain, nothing had gone majorly wrong. We seemed relatively on track (as far as you can be with island time) to hopefully be back in the water in another week… or so. Our only issue was that our befriended local workman who has been helping us with some cheaper sanding and acid washing was in hospital with gout. They tell us he’s never missed a day of work prior to this. Turned out he was back at it the next day, which was great for us (and I guess for him and his workaholic ways).

I think I jinxed us though. On day 6, which was the hottest, stillest, sweatiest, red faced day, our trusty fridge decided it was all a bit much. The thought of no more cold refreshing coconuts or rambutams was also a bit much for us.



After trying to figure out if it was just too hot a day, or whether we’d blown the thermostat, the compressor, both, or were just low on gas, our lovely local fridge man assured us it was just low on gas and subsequently overworking to do its best with what it had. Easy fix! Except for the fact that the gas in our older fridge (r12 for you fridge lovers in the know) is now illegal in all countries (except Canada?!) and putting in a top up of the newer gas (r134) would soon render our currently working compressor and thermostat caput.

So, after a bit of investigating we had three options:

1. Risk getting gas cartridges sent from Canada and being intercepted by customs (was still going to take 3-5 weeks postage… if it made it through).
2. Buy a new unit here in Tahiti (expensive and would still take around a week or more to arrive).
3. Get Nick’s parents to bring one over from France when they visit in around 10 days time.

We went with option 3. And although we’re on schedule and back in the water after two weeks of boat yard bliss, we’re still 5 days away from a cold drink! But at least we’re back in the water where air flows freely through the hatches once more!

Te Mana's Tattoo

Despite the many languages and vast distances between the islands of Polynesia, there are some words that are basically the same throughout all Polynesian languages. The two most emblematic being Mana (see our previous blog ‘what’s in a name’) and Moana (ocean).

Moana is incredibly important in Polynesian culture. Being the primary source of food, it guarantees life, is the place of birth and rest, and represents abundance, prosperity and protection. This importance of the ocean is reflected strongly in the ancient tradition of Polynesian tattoos, with many of its creatures used to symbolize associated meanings in line with their characteristic traits.

The history of tattooing in Polynesia is fascinating. Although nearly wiped out during the missionary years, traditional (more geometric) and modern (more figurative) tattooing is making a proud resurgence in Polynesian culture with the designs being symbolic in meanings specific to their owner’s life story and ancestors, or thought of as a way to give strength and protection.



Having already embraced Te Mana in the naming of our yacht, it seemed fitting to incorporate Moana in the form of a Polynesian design specific to our journey. So after working with local Tahitian tattoo artists and researching the symbols commonly used today*, we decided on the following design…

The manta. Symbolizing the sea, and representing freedom, accomplishment, protection, beauty, elegance, and good energy, it seemed an appropriate motif for our voyage, and so it now lives proudly on our bow.

At the heart of the manta is an ipu – a stylization of a gourd in which Hilo (navigator and god) is said to have kept the good winds. This is surrounded by the sun (the life giving source symbolizing positivity, joy, calm, and greatness), which is composed of the sky and waves (representing life, continuity through change, and the world beyond). Tiki eyes then watch over from either side for protection from all directions and to serve as guardians for our voyage.

Hammerhead shark patterning (determination, perseverance) fills in the wings, while the shell on the upper wing represents our home, safe shelter, and intimacy, and Marquesan cross on the lower wing symbolizes harmony and balance between the elements.

The two dots on the tips of the wings represent the islands we will be visiting. And near the mouth is the traditional motif for a bat (sociability) with two human figures, a male and female, to symbolize our forging of friendships in every port.

The tail stems from a palm tree, symbolic of the pacific islands representing peace, good vibrations, and serenity, as well as prosperity. While the tail itself is made of spearheads, for strength, bravery, courage, and overcoming obstacles.

With so many symbols and motifs in place to guide and protect us through our voyage, we can only hope Te Mana will find fair winds, smooth seas, and plenty of beautiful adventures.

* During the European colonization much of the knowledge of tattoo masters was lost and not passed down to the next generations. As a result many of the symbols used today come from Marquesan traditions, as the most complete record of Polynesian tattooing was published in 1928 by Karl von den Steinen based on notes he took during his expedition to the Marquesas back in 1897-98.

Up to speed and slowing down

Time is flying by, or maybe we are just slowing down… either way we’ve been floating around the beautiful Society Islands for a bit over a month now. We’ve had great surfs with waves basically to ourselves, awesome snorkeling with super friendly fish, sharks and rays, the occasional successful fishing session, and lots of fun getting familiar with sailing our boat. We’ve also happily eaten a hell of a lot of bananas, pawpaws, and coconuts.

We still seem to be ironing out a few small issues here and there however, and getting our systems up and running on board. Nothing major, just little things that ideally we’d like to get sorted before we venture further afield and ultimately further away from civilization and the relative ease of sourcing replacements and parts. Whoever it was that told us owning a yacht equates to ‘forever fixing sh%t in paradise’ quite possibly wasn’t far off the mark from our experiences thus far! But we’re pretty sure that just comes with the cruising life.

The lack of a working fridge is thankfully old news now, and we’re back to enjoying refreshing cold drinks once more. Which I have to say we’ve been incredibly happy about.

But the ‘to do’ list on boats move quickly (it seems) and our latest troubleshooting has been on issues with our outboard. This is basically our run about car whilst cruising. At nearly 30 years old, our 9.9hp Yamaha outboard motor is probably not too dissimilar to an old Corolla that might not run or look its best, but just keeps going (or so we thought).

We had been becoming increasingly aware that our Corolla would loose power and be unable to plane after around 10 minutes of use, but as most of our trips are pretty short, we hadn’t really pushed its limits further or suspected it might need more than a bit of a tune up.

So after arriving at beautiful Moorea we thought we’d give it a little love. We (Nick) managed to borrow a wheel barrow to transport our 40kg beauty to a local outboard mechanic who cleaned up its insides (filters/carburetor) before in typical islander style sending us on our way with a few bags of coconuts (we refused the bunch of bananas as we were still working our way through a bunch we acquired a few weeks back).

Happy captains we were. Coconuts for days and the outboard ticked off the list. It had a bit more grunt, and ran a little smoother, so we tested it out by fanging around the anchorage before venturing quite a ways out across the pass to swim with rays and sharks in the fading afternoon light.



The rays were tickly and the sharks were beautiful… and the 1.5 hour row/paddle home (if anyone has ever tried to row/paddle a RIB you’ll know how darn inefficient this is) against 15-20kt cross winds and a current trying to sweep us out the pass as night fell was down right adrenaline (and shoulder) pumping!

Thanks to some fast grunty paddling fuelled by cramping shoulders and forearms we managed to avoid being totally sucked out of the pass (just a little bit), and successfully bombie hopped our way across the reef to make it back to the mother ship - where we promptly drank a bottle of wine, and vowed it was time to upgrade our outboard.

We softened in the morning and decided to give it one more chance, replacing the spark plugs and transmission oil (Rob you’d be proud). And although it felt like it was turbo charged to start with (high fives all round), it was still loosing power the longer it was used (not so happy captains).

So, after a bit more adventuring around Moorea in search of phone credit and Wifi to explore our second hand vs new options, we settled on sailing back to Tahiti to purchase a brand spanking new 9.8 Tohatsu (weighing in at around half the weight of our old one but with the same power).

And we are stoked. After repeating the trip to the rays this morning in Moorea travelling around 3 times the speed, using half the fuel, and without the paddling component at the end… its smiles all round.

Hopefully the ‘to do’ list eases off for a while and we can get back to the business of slowing down as we make our way across to the amazing Tuamotus… but now with the option of going reliably fast if we ever feel the need.

Paradise Found

We are definitely starting to get the hang of this cruising life. After feeling a bit abuzz initially with the workload of getting ourselves and the boat ready, learning how it all works and what the boat should feel like, and then of course how we actually feel onboard a boat in constant motion with water moving all around us, it’s thankfully all starting to feel a little more natural and normal now. Which is nice. Because initially there definitely wasn’t much about it all that seemed cruisey… it was all pretty darn exhausting!



The issues of sorting out the outboard (and fridge, and all the other little standard boaty things that we’ve not even bothered to mention) and the fact it slowed our movements down a little has of course most likely been a blessing in disguise. Not only do we now have a tender we can use reliably in all kinds of current and swell filled passes to scope potential surf and dive spots, but by missing the recent weather window to make it to the Tuamotos (total paradise according to everyone we speak to) by the time we’d planned, we’ve ended up finding ourselves in (another) paradise.

We’ve been at anchor for nearly a week now in toothpaste coloured water on an incredibly beautiful lagoon on the lesser visited west side of Moorea. Its been so unvisited since we’ve been here we’ve had it all to ourselves. There’s a sandy bottom with rays swimming all around us, and coral bombies and their super colourful fishies a short snorkel away. Then there’s the super fun left that breaks in the pass, and the dramatic volcanic mountain peaks that are dripping with vibrant green lushness.

For the first few days there wasn’t a drop of wind and the swell was medium sized and fun. We feasted on surf and SUPing until our shoulders could do no more. As if it knew we needed a rest, the swell then jacked up making surfing impossible and the option of sailing out through the unmarked pass a little more exciting than we were comfortable with.

So up to the peaks we hiked for a land based adventure (in similar preparatory style to our last Moorea hike – see No Problem!). Despite thong blow outs and never quite knowing if we were on the right path, we made it up to Three Palm Trees Pass (there’s not three anymore thanks to a cyclone many years back) to find spectacular panoramic views of the ancient crater shaped island and its peaks. Our supplies of 1L of water and three muesli bars were clearly a little light on for the 6+ hour hike in tropical heat (although in keeping with our choice of footwear), but… we’re getting good at life in the tropics now, and we supplemented our thirst along the way by drinking fresh coconuts and gorging on delicious wild passion fruits - not even a little bit dehydrated.

Having swapped sore shoulders for sore legs, and with the swell dropping to a more surfable size, we lapped up another few idyllic aquatic filled days of surfing, SUPping, snorkeling, and snoozing.

But nothing lasts forever, and with the wind forecast to change ahead of a brewing maraamu (Tahitian for the strong south easterly trade winds that blow between 25-35knots for around a week or so) we decided it was time to move on… to find our next paradise, which I don’t think should be too hard in this part of the world.

Dancing in the Dark

I must say that right now we’re feeling a little proud of ourselves.

For a while it seemed like we might never make it out of the Society Islands further east to the beautiful Tuamotus. It’s a tricky passage into the wind with relatively short weather windows when they do come about, and when the weather was right we were busy fixing issues onboard Te Mana, and when we were ready the weather was not. A few weeks of false starts were starting playing into our already present nervousness regarding this passage, as it would be our longest yet of 2-3 days. Not long in the scheme of what we have ahead, but long enough at this point in time.

What if we get seasick the whole time? What if our forecasting is wrong and we hit foul weather? What if our navigation is off and we hit a reef, or miss the Tuamotus all together? What if, what if, what if?...



All of these thoughts were starting to come to a bit of a head as we sat at anchor at Teahupo’o, where the power of the ocean could not possibly be more on display. Depending on your frame of mind, that wave is either a thing of beauty and barreling perfection, or a throaty monster that sucks and spits and is nothing short of terrifying. We arrived on a small day, which thankfully made sailing through the pass a breeze, but the swell built over the few days we were there to around 3m, which was more than enough to make the sucky pits double overhead (or more like triple if you were one of the many local 15 year olds - or younger!, who were absolutely charging).

Nick surfed it twice. And although he loved it, came back absolutely wired with adrenaline and said that was enough - which for those of you who know Nick would realize is a little uncharacteristic. I on the other hand felt absolutely at peace with my decision to respect my limits and politely decline, finding sitting on the tender with the other boats in the pass/shoulder more than exciting/scary enough. It really does just suck down out of nowhere and unload onto super shallow reef. Crazy.

The day finally came when we were happy enough with the forecast to up anchor and set out through the pass – finally aiming east for the Tuamotus. The first few hours were rough. Rough as in the sea state that’s for sure, as well as the subsequent fact we both weren’t feeling great. Nick held it together, while I seemed to be on a four hourly vomit schedule. But after we’d rounded the bottom of Tahiti and sailed away from the affected seas (they just get totally messed up near the corners of the islands which is what we were experiencing), the ocean somewhat smoothed itself out, and we both slowly started to feel better. 2 minute noodles, corn flakes, and Pringles chips have never tasted so good! None of which we would normally eat, but strange that this was all we really craved during the whole passage. The 2 minute noodles initially took us more like 30 minutes to prepare mind you thanks to the rocking of the boat, but happy to say that by the last day we had cooking on a moving stove down to a fine art!

I was initially a little apprehensive about night watches, as I guess everything seems harder in the dark. But the nights turned out to be probably our most enjoyable time during this passage, with the stars out in force for the early part of the evenings, before the moon rose and lit our way during the early hours of the mornings. The nights also turned out to be our most physically active time of day (neither of us are particularly well suited to sitting still on a boat), as without the heat of the sun you could move around without feeling exhausted. With the help of a few good playlists we quickly discovered that the best way to pass your three hour watch on deck was to get your groove on and dance like no one was watching. Which thankfully they weren’t.

So after three nights of dancing in the dark, and staring at nothing but the blue horizon during the days, we finally saw palm trees in the distance. We’d slowed ourselves down during the last 24hrs so as to make it to Fakarava’s south pass at the right time for the tides, but found that with the light winds and easing swell the pass was as calm and flat as can be. So once the sun was high enough in the sky to navigate coral safely, in we went, straight into paradise (again).

And here we’ll stay for a little while. Until we’ve had enough of these palm trees, corals, and waves, and decide to move onto the next beautiful atoll in search of more of the same.

These articles have been provided courtesy of the Te Mana. The Friends of Te Mana are: Red Paddle Co, Seapia Sustainable Swimwear, Little Urchin Natural Sunscreen, Norton Point Sea Plastic Eyewear, Tree Hugger All Natural

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