Is Getting a LSV Worth It?
The answer is, it depends!
Are you a part-time cruiser who needs to haul out or fly home after your “season” of visiting FP? Or are you a full-time cruiser with no set timeline and more flexibility regarding how many shorter passages you make in the season?
Kevin and I are part-time cruisers, which means we fly home for more than 6 weeks at a time; generally, we like to be home for at least 5 or 6 months before we’re ready to get back to the boat. There are lots of reasons for wanting more time at home, the primary being that we like to devote as much time to visiting our 7 kids—and now grandkids—as possible.
Going the Distance to Haul Out
This year was unusually long because there were so many miles (about 7,000 nautical miles!) to cover across the expansive South Pacific, especially for us when we knew we needed to haul the boat out for several months while we returned home to California. We discovered, by the way, that the easiest and safest place to haul the boat is in Fiji where they have cyclone “pits” in the ground. Other haul out spots in FP, such as Hiva Oa or Rangiroa, were full or couldn’t take our boat based on size, keel, the type of trailer to haul us out, etc.
If you look at a map of the South Pacific ocean, you will see how far we needed to sail in one season to stow our boat safely on land. Our preference was not to go this far, all 7000 miles to Fiji—but limited haul-out options meant timing our crossing more deliberately than our full-time cruising friends.
Ocean Conditions Dictate Life Aboard a Boat
However, even though we spent 5 months cruising in FP, we felt like it was enough time to explore this area. If the regular Visa is 90 days (for Americans, anyway), I can see why sailors would think this was too short of a timeframe. However, the majority of cruisers we met who did not have a LSV (Long-Stay Visa) ended up cruising FP for longer anyway due to weather.
This past season (March through October of 2024) was unusually windy according to cruisers we met who were exploring the area for the second year.
Here are all of the reasons why windy conditions in our monohull created issues:
1) Wind-Driven Waves
The wind-driven waves and swell compelled cruisers like us to hunker down when the wind was forecasted to be more than 22 knots. If you sail, then you know if the forecast is 22 knots, you can add 5 to 10 knots to that projection. As an example, if the sustained wind was 20 knots, the swell generally was 2 to 3 meters—or 6 to 9 feet; higher winds, like 30 knots when we crossed from FP to Fiji, meant we experienced up to 12 foot swell.
This is all okay unless the swell is hitting you from the wrong angle, which it frequently did. The big swell and wind also meant we had no desire to sail in the opposite direction of the trades. Due to cyclone season, many cruisers we know of had to sail from the Tuomotus back to the Marqueses, which almost always is a bash (watch the YouTube cruising channel Delos to see their bash back to the Marquesas, and you will understand what I mean.)
2) Deep-Water Anchorages, Few and Far Between
Wind meant we had to find more secure anchorages than catamarans. We do not have the luxury of sitting in shallow water near a reef and crossing our fingers. Most of the anchorages in the Societies (Moorea, Raitea, Huahine) required us to anchor in 80 to 95 feet of water (deeper than Fatu Hiva, which is famed for its deep anchorage) because we needed good holding due to high winds.
Invariably, we would find a deep bay in which to anchor, and then the venturi effect meant our boat shifted back and forth, pivoting on its anchor point nonstop for several days. And we didn’t necessarily want to dinghy to land because the wind created so much fetch that we were soaked completely upon going to shore. No big deal….but then we’re worried about our boat dragging—or another boat dragging into us. Suffice it to say, the wind created constant worry for us.
3) Open Anchorages vs Mooring Balls
Being in a deep bay meant we had to share the bay with super yachts and mega-super yachts. Fun entertainment at sunset, but local authorities often told us we needed to move to accommodate the filthy rich on their yachts. We were told by the local police in Huahine, for instance, that we needed to move—despite the 35 knots winds and no other safe place to anchor. The mooring balls were all taken, and the other anchorage areas did not have good enough holding (write me if you’re interested in knowing more about this! We loved Huahine, but we never felt welcome there.)
Overcrowded Anchorages
Besides the wind, the other reason for not overstaying is based on the latter point—about not feeling welcome. Supposedly—and this makes sense—there are significantly more cruisers sailing to French Polynesia since Covid; the desire to see the world has inspired more sailing. There’s an urgency to “get out there” and to cruise with family, to do it while there aren’t physical limitations, to do it before global warming chokes coral reefs. And the list for going goes on….
Locals' Perception of Cruisers
However, the locals on these islands see cruisers come and go—sometimes polluting the bays, sometimes anchoring on fragile coral, sometimes….I could go on here. The reality is that MOST cruisers are extremely cognizant and conscientious about their impact on the land and the waters surrounding the islands. But perhaps there are enough negative impacts that locals simply do not want us there. The locals do not necessarily care about tourism—or money helping the economy, or whatever else us Westerners value.
Even though Kevin and I went out of our way to respect the people and the anchorages where we kept our boat, if the locals yelled from shore—or kayaked out to our boat–to get us to leave, then we wanted to move on.
I will say the unwelcome reception came mostly from the Society islands rather than the Marquesas or the Tuamotus; there is also talk about the government tightening regulations, like requiring boats to declare the time of their visit and to reserve mooring balls. Every cruiser we have spoken to believes this process will take several years to roll out, even though the “talk” is about this happening in 2025.
Extending Your Exploration West of French Polynesia
Obviously, there are islands and places we could have continued exploring if we were/are full-time cruisers. Both Kevin and I agree that spending more time in the Tuamotus—with epic diving and snorkeling–would have extended our season; the atolls which make up the Tuamotus are simply untouched, stunning, and worth every second in the water.
However, the process for getting the Long-Stay Visa—and the fact that so many cruisers explored equally stunning islands, like Niue, once they left French Polynesia—mean that all is not lost if you cruise this beautiful area without extending your time.
Final Thoughts
Is it better to get the LSV and not need it–or use it? Probably. Kevin and I felt much less stress than those cruisers we met who were hanging out, past their allotted 90 days, waiting to leave FP with a good weather window. But when I think of how much time we spent researching the proper protocols of applying for the LSV—months in advance of sailing away from Mexico–and then waiting 9 weeks to receive the Visa and our passports (not to mention the over $400 we spent to get it), I’m just not sure we would go through the process again.
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