A couple of the yachties moored in Hiva Oa were invited to go on a pig hunt with some of the locals.
We are yet to figure out if these are domestic piggies that fled the butchers block and roam free to snuffle their way around the island or proper aggressive wild boars that like to gore the hell out of you. Looking at a fairly formidable tooth that hangs around our larger-than-life hosts neck, it is probably the latter.
Needless to say the yachties came back empty handed. They do admit that they started with best intentions and snuck through the jungle like Charlie on the Ho CHi Min trail, but after a while they got bored and started swapping "how was your Pacific crossing" stories. The piggies, having inevitably heard many such stories in the past, probably got bored listening and scampered off to rut away happily somewhere else (far away).
So as not to seem like lousy hosts, the locals decided to make it up to the band of intrepid hunters by slaughtering a goat (from a pen) and feasting upon that. They decided that the best place to have said feast was the island of Tahuatu, which just so happened to be where we were parked.
Via second / third hand invitation we whipped up a potluck (we did not want to go empty handed - especially as we had not contributed to any of the "how was your Pacific crossing" stories swapped the day prior) and dinghied over to the next bay where there is a beautiful beach with a private house nestled into the coconut grove. Picture perfect is the only way to describe it. Our hosts, although they did not own the house, were borrowing it from a friend who lives in Tahiti and had prepared a lovely meal which a few yachties had contributed to with their pots of luck. Sally's mini pizza's went down a treat, especially with the kids.
We were introduced to the hosts and I was soon offering the gentleman a share in my rum. He reciprocated by offering me all the coconut water I could wish for (which I discovered Marquesans use as mix - fresh from the coconut - think malibu but with mild laxative properties). We got off to a great start. There is nothing like sharing a little booze to get everyone social.
We tucked into the grub, but it appeared that tonight was chicken. The goat was the following day's feast (which we were subsequently invited to too). Oh yeah, and Moet (our host) wanted to teach us how to make a Marquesan breakfast, so were told to return at 10am the following day for that too!
As the evening wore on, I continued to pour (with a heavy hand) my hosts drinks. He would come with a short glass of coconut water and I would top it off with my $4 per bottle of Panamanian rot gut.
Sally kept elbowing me in the ribs telling me to stop trying to get him inebriated or being the catalyst for an alcoholic addiction. I thought it rude not to though, so continued to pour. While matching him one for one, I was drinking a mere fraction of the alcohol, but then again, he had a good few kilograms of mass on me. I did not even see the large Polynesian even slur a word or stumble.
The following morning he was up at 4am to take a few guys fishing…I was fast asleep.
The next day we dinghied over for round two. We arrived a little late as we could not resist joining Dolphin of Leith and Sietse and Jen who were swimming next to their boat. Petra was having a lovely time swimming but young Finn was having none of it. With a few excitable leaps in the water and bombs off the boat he managed to pluck up the courage and got in the water but only if he could hang on to your neck with a choke hold they probably teach at Navy Seal school.
Ashore, Moet had laid on another spread. We came bearing a gift of wine for the host who promptly took it over to the communal table for everyone, true testimony to the Marquesan hospitality and generosity.
Goat stew, fish in coconut milk, freshly caught yellow fin sashimi, manioc and coconut milk cake like pudding, breadfruit in a creamy coconut sauce…all absolutely amazing! The humble coconut is an amazing plant!
After bellies were full, we sat on the beach chatting, fed the goats who had recently lost a close relative, swung in hammocks and swam.
What a great day out.
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