Tahuata, Marquesas

A short jump from Hiva Oa (Atuona) is Hanamoena anchorage on Tahuata island (10 miles). It is a beautiful anchorage with great holding, white sand beach lined with coconut palms. The trip there is almost guaranteed to land you at least one yellow fin tuna in the pass between Hiva Oa and Tahuata. We used this as a great excuse to meet all the boats in the anchorage and invite them to a beach BBQ that night. 

We had a great pot luck the first night and met some new and interesting people. Our friends from Just Drifting and Minnie B were there, along with the guys from Black Pearl. The fish was great too.

We heard about the fabled manta rays that frequent the bay and on one lovely still calm morning, we could see their fins waving at us to come join them. So we promptly did. I am loving our under water camera now and don't know how we lived without it before. Admittedly Sally is the master of the camera as she takes better photos than I do.

Wade (Just Drifting) and I went trolling for yellow fin (they often fed just off the point and could be seen leaping out the water as they nailed the bait fish). Wade, using cedar plug and me with a spoon, trolled up the coast towards the channel and then on the way back Wade got a good strike which we lost and then 5 minutes later a large 28 yellow fin decided to invite itself to dinner! Unfortunately Wade's cedar plug was lure of the day. I did not even get a strike :(

Dinner was on board Just Drifting that night! Although the filet that I got I gave away to a couple boats in the anchorage as it was so big (and we did not want tuna for the next 4 meals).

We were about to leave when our friends arrived and we had a "Very Marquesan Evening" (see other post). We spent some time with Dolphin before heading to the southern most bay on the island as we wanted to get a few fresh produce before we left for the Tuamotus. 

Hapitoni is a beautiful little bay and in stark contrast to Hanamoena with its white sand beach. Instead this had large black rock boulders on the shore and steep cliffs. The anchorage is about a mile from the town dock, so there is an unspoilt view of the shoreline that is decorated with coconut palms. All the palms (like in the San Blas have been planted for copra production).

As we arrived into the anchorage we were greeted by a large pod of dolphins playing in the bay. As soon as we had dropped the anchor we paddled the dinghy in their general direction taking photos along the way. We hopped in the water and tried swimming with them. They did not come very close, but we could see them in the water (water was very murky due to a lot of rain) but the most amazing thing was listening to them. You could even hear them when we were on the boat.

Post the swim with the dolphins, we headed for the waterfall no more than 6 metres from the shore.

Fantastic.

Just Drifting joined us in the bay and we went ashore with them. Interaction with the locals was aided by Maureen who used to teach French! What a bonus having her along.

We discovered that a large cruise ship was due in the following morning and that all the carvers (for which the place is famous for) will have their wares on display. 

We came ashore the following morning just as the tourists were being shuttled in. Unfortunately many of the carvers had packed up their good works ready for a Festival of Art in Tahiti where they display (and sell) their wares. In saying that, the stuff that was on display was fantastic. We even tried to barter for a paddle. I think the proprietor was shocked when Sally tried to trade him some booze for his paddle as he probably thought we were from the cruise ship. He did give us a good discount though and we are now the proud owners of a beautiful carved Toa (type of wood) paddle.

As part of the show put on for the cruise ship there was traditional singing and dancing. The men would do a very aggressive sort of war dance / hakka which was juxtaposed by the sweet singing / dancing of the woman doing the follow up dance and song. Even the little kids got involved and were singing.

We made friends with all the local kids. They would crowd around us when we arrived and follow us through the village babbling in French to us. My bulk standard response to most things was "Oui!". This got me into trouble when they asked for a ride in the dinghy. I responded "Oui" and they all lept into the dinghy. Sally, Wade and Maureen could only stand on the dock and wait in the rain while I zoomed these little grinning faces around the bay. Sally had a fan named Valencia who clung to her side every time we came ashore so one day, Sally presented her with a pencil urchin wind chime that she had made. Valencia's little face was a picture as the rest of the kids crowded around admiring. They disappeared into her house and came out again with a big flower brooch complete with real orange feathers. This was then pinned to Sally's cardigan and the cooing continued.

As the next bay was within walking distance and we had not done much stretching of legs, we decided to walk there with Just Drifting. The promise of internet in the next bay was an added bonus, although not really for me as I was the arse carrying the laptop (and the water, and the snacks and the…you get the point). The locals swore that it would only take about 2 hours to walk there. Comedy must be another one of their main exports as after 3 hours (there is only 1 road, we were not lost!) we still seemed to be miles away. We finally ended up hitching a ride in the back of a pick up the remaining mile and a half. Sally's feet (as usual) had blisters that were making my eyes water, but stoically she just deals with it (every time). 

Our knight in shining armour

After a good internet (read - Maureen and Sally perusing Facebook, while Wade and I went exploring) we were ready to leave. Only thing is that it is now 5pm and Sally and Maureen were swearing blind that there was no way they wanted to A) walk back and B) walk back at night (the road is a dirt road with loads of ankle twisters along the way due to the recent heavy rains and rock falls). A "taxi" we are told would set us back $120. A "hostel" room for the night would be about $120 per couple. So that left us wandering around the town trying to negotiate our way home (which as the crow flies is only 2 miles by the way). Eventually we managed to get a ride in a fishing dinghy (large one) for $60 and one of my prized bottles of Scotch. All in all a good day out but we were very tired upon return. Would we recommend the walk? Yes, but plan that it will take a full day to walk there and back and take proper walking boots.

Local kids following us on the trail

As we were off to Tuamotus direct, we wanted some fresh fruit for the trip. We asked the woman in the store (she only sells potatoes and onions as all fruit just drips off of the trees and locals seem to share everything). She said to bring the kids some stuff and they would collect fruit for us. 

So the next day we came in to town and the same group of kids came bounding up to us carrying large boxes filled with pawpaw, pamplemousse and mangoes. They had obviously been out picking fruit that morning for us. Very sweet.

We gave them a few school supplies and sweets etc which they all seemed very happy with. As we departed in the dinghy the kids jumped into the water and clinged to the side yelling 'don't go', 'we love you', 'Sally I love your boyfriend' and other amusing remarks in English and we don't really know if they knew what they were saying. Fearing we would run over a local with our prop, we floated about prising fingers off handles and waving profusely as we disappeared into the distance with Nintendo DS' snapping our mug shots.

We now had this huge supply of mangoes (ripe ones that had been picked off the floor). The only proper thing to do is call a happy hour! Sally and I sat there peeling and squeezing the mangoes (by hand) until we had about 3 litres of juice. We went round to Just Drifting for dinner as I had caught a large Mahi earlier that day when Wade and I trolled off the coast (in the dinghy) and drank fresh mango and ate fresh Mahi. 

The following morning we wished Wade and Maureen farewell and headed for the Tuamotus.

We've arrived!!

What a sight! Land after 26 days at sea. Fatu Hiva crept slowly towards us as the sun scampered further away. We studied the charts and guides at the imminent and mildly daunting prospect of our first night entry. We crept into the bay of virgins in the middle of the night. (it used to be called the bay of penises - another story, another blog - blame the French). Our friends on Spruce and Toodles guiding us in waving flashlights and directing us as to where to anchor. 

We dropped the chain in 60ft of water and dropped back into 90ft. Not my best work, so out came the rode and that went out too. We soon discovered that one swings very differently on rode than when on anchor especially when the winds funnelled down the cliffs at gusts of 25+ knots.

Two tired and happy little sailors curled up together for the first time in almost a month and were soon fast asleep. 

Dawn heralded more than just a new day for us. We had accomplished what was for us one of our greatest challenges to date and were in the most beautiful anchorage we had ever seen.

The enormous othello black volcanic cliffs towering above us; stark contrast to the deep blue water and rich tropical greens that adorned the land. Every few hours the heavens would dust the island with watery sprinkles to keep the land a tropical paradise. Goats peered down at us from the vantage points high above the anchorage. The shore looks unpopulated as the village is tucked around the corner from the bay and gives one the feeling of being in a true unspoilt paradise. 

The smell! After smelling only our own bodies and salt infused air for almost a month, our senses were assaulted by the scent of land. I think this must be something that only sailors can fully appreciate (maybe astronauts too). My mother always used to say that you can smell land well before you can see it. Unfortunately we were upwind of Fatu Hiva so did not smell it first. There was the pungent aromas of citrus and flowers and steamy jungle like earth that wafted out to the boat beckoning us ashore.

Once we had settled in and de-rigged we assembled the dinghy and were keen to head ashore to know once again just what terra firma feels like. Ashore we were greeted by very friendly Marquesan's who bid us good day in French. We spoke to a couple who insisted that we go and look at all the carvers on the island (including their work) to decide on what we wanted. It is truly inspiring to come to a place where the capitalism and materialism had not as yet tainted the people (not that I am in the least bit Marxist). 

Tiki

We took our wobbly little leggies up the few streets in the village and admired beautifully manicured gardens, fruit trees dripping with assorted in-season produce. The citrus smells were that of limes, pamplemousse, green oranges(?!) and the occasional lemon tree to add a dash of yellow to an otherwise green ensemble. Pigs snuffled, horses neighed and chickens clucked to add to the whole ambiance. 

That evening, out came the beers and the gin and tonics to celebrate what for us was an amazing accomplishment. Lets remember that we know enough about sailing and boat ownership to fill a postage stamp, yet we had made it 3100 miles fairly trouble free.

The next day at 5am I was up to fish for some live bait. After pulling a few little guys out and into a bucket Gary (Toodles) and I headed out to the coast to try our luck. Plopping the little fellows in the water near some circling frigate birds, we soon had our first strike and Gary landed a good sized (20lbs) yellowfin. 10 minutes later i had a nibble and landed a slightly smaller tunny. Both quite chuffed with our quarry, we dragged a last now "not so live" bait along behind the dinghy and hit upon a 3rd strike for the morning. Landing my second tunny of the day we bade Neptune farewell and headed for the anchorage just as the clock struck 7am. Great days fishing! The whole anchorage received tuna courtesy of Gary and I. 

Local dance for passing cruise ship guests

We did go out fishing a few more times and landed some decent sized Jacks which we threw back for fear of ciguatera. Gary, ever scornful of the humble bonito has converted me too and we used them as live bait to try catch even bigger prey. Something large took our little bonny once but it did not come close enough to be identified, however we believe it to have been about a 1.5m shark. Anything that manages to stretch stainless steel trace wire like it did must have been large. 

Ashore after haggling in broken "Frenglish" we made a few acquisitions of the ever famous local craft. Fatu Hiva is known for it Tapa (cloth made from the bark of the breadfruit tree). It used to be used for clothing back in the day! We also picked up a Tiki (a symbol of Polynesia) and a rosewood box with a Marquesan symbol carved into it. This cost us a few dollars and some of our precious bottles of wine / rum (Oh and Sally gave up a T shirt for the Tapa).

Tapa

Wanting to stretch our sea legs, we scurried off to see the waterfall early one morning. Timing it so that we would get there near noon when we would be hot and sticky and most appreciative of the water and its temperature. Wading through waist high grasses it became apparent that we were "off the beaten track" (pun intended). A local chuckling away at us gave us a few directions which put us back on course and we soon made it up the muddy slippery route (marked by towers of stones) to a very sleepy waterfall. Although it is 200ft high, it was a mere trickle but the pool below was lovely and cool. Crawfish and fairly large eels have made the water their home. Eels being the less attractive creatures on this earth. The trip back down in slops (sandals, jandals, thongs) was more eventful and had us once again regretting our poor choice in footwear for such outings. 

Fatu Hiva is amazing. We loved every minute there. We played football with the locals one afternoon and there was loads of giggles and camaraderie as yachties and locals mixed to form teams. Sport truly has no language.

Playing football with the locals

We were anxiously awaiting the arrival of the rest of our buddy boat friends (Waka Irie and Dolphin of Leith). Dolphin went straight to Hiva Oa but Waka arrived a few days after us. We had a grand welcoming party to celebrate their arrival and then a farewell session for Toodles who would be heading off at a faster pace than us and as such we are probably not to see them again until we get to New Zealand.

After a great spell in Fatu Hiva it was finally time to bid it farewell. We upped anchor and sailed for Hiva Oa keen to catch up with Dolphin and their kids. 

The south pacific is really fantastic and we are loving it!

Crossing the largest ocean in the world

Well all in all it took us 26 days to cross one of the longest passages (of normal cruising routes). We only motored for a total of about 3 hours and even that was to top up the batteries with the engine in neutral. The wind, sea and current with us most of the way. After spending almost a month at sea in these conditions, my admiration for friends Ian and Laani on Kadoona has only increased 10 fold. They sailed against the wind, current and sea from OZ to Panama. Pair of nutters!

We left San Cristobal and spent about 3 days in Floreana. No, we were not anchored, just drifting past it. Being becalmed is not a very pleasant experience generally as one flogs the sails and rolls around in mild discomfort. However, it allowed us to do and see some very interesting things.

Just off of Floreana, whilst becalmed with no sail up (fortunately we had some current taking us west), we watched a resident mahi mahi (dorado) circling the boat. There I sat, for an hour on the bow, speargun poised waiting for a decent shot. Unfortunately it shot off when it saw me before i inject it with a little stainless steel. Then later that day a school of large yellow fin tuna (3 / 4 feet) circled us. This was too good to be true. So in I went with the speargun into the middle of the pacific ocean (about 2000 feet of water beneath me) with Sally spotting on the bow. Water crystal clear and just inviting you to swim down into it. The old tuna were having none of it and buggered off. Not wanting to venture too far from the boat in the middle of the ocean, I was reluctant to follow.

Fishing throughout the passage was exceptional. It is an enormous ocean, yet we would get a strike almost every time we put the lure in the water (and we had to be doing 4.5 knots+ too). Flying fish seemed to be having a wonderful time committing hari-kuri on our decks each night, Part of my daily routine in the morning was to clear the deck of the little fellows. When we first left Galapagos (first couple hundred miles) squid also leapt onto our deck with the goal of shortening their own lifespans. I had never seen squid leap onboard before!

With the exception of a single bonito tuna, the rest of our catches were mahi mahi (one of the best eating fish in my opinion) all about 1.5 - 2 feet in length and mostly females we noticed. We lost two fish and threw a few small mahi's back. Most were perfect 2 person sized meals. For anyone interested, we used a red and white squid skirt with a size 8 stainless hook on 1 foot of trace. Low drag, cheap and incredibly successful (beats all the damn rapala lures I used to spend $40 on only to lose to bigger fish)!

Where we had expected good fat squalls with torrents of rain enabling us to wash boat and bodies alike, we were underwhelmed. The cloud gods sprinkled us with a bit of drizzle on a few occasions. Only enough to piss off the person on watch (as this generally occurred at night) making them soggy and a bit chilly (mostly happened to Sally…chortle chortle). 

I am sure I recall as a child crossing the Pacific and having fantastic tropical squalls with loads of thunder and lightening and enough water falling from the sky to purge all my sins…

As there was no rain water and we were conservative with our reserves, clothes washing did not get done. By the end of the trip, I was actively sniffing all my undies in the wash basket to find the least smelly to wear. My parents at this stage are probably tutting away thinking that when you are out at sea you should not need clothes, however I have this innate fear of catching my equipment in a winch or on a sharp split pin or something equally horrific and living out the rest of my days with the nickname "mono nut" or "stumpy".

Having an SSB is very useful. There was the informal Gallopers Net run by British vessels Minnie B, Spruce and Flapjack who were net controllers tracking our merry bunch of sailors across the puddle. We would check in daily and people would tell us weather conditions where they were allowing us to navigate accordingly. We also made friends who we looked forward to meeting when we reached port.

Truth be told, running downwind is a fairly pleasant form of sailing. For most of the trip all the hatches were open with good through flow of air to keep the boat from being stuffy or hot. There is a slight squirrelling motion that one gets used to. The quality of the sunrises (that Sally never saw as she was always catching flies at the time) and sunsets were fantastic. The colours that mother nature is able to produce are quite astounding. I will never tire of sitting in the cockpit, coffee in hand watching a new day unfurl before my eyes. 

I was expecting the middle of the ocean to be devoid of life except that below the waves. But there was birdlife throughout the passage. Not being an ornithologist, I would have a hard time telling you what the hell I was looking at other than to say we saw small finch sized birds that "scooped" up the water (eating whatever organisms were on the surface) and a few gull types. The small birds did not look like the types to sit on the ocean for a snooze at night and none did land and rest on Orion. We are talking about birds 1500 miles from the closest land. What the hell are they doing all the way out here?

I suppose we only really got into a good solid groove / routine at the half way mark. The end was now closer than the beginning and everything was going well. We celebrated with a half way party.

Sally made "Gem's Tipsy Tart". A recipe she got from Jean (on Legend IV), who swears that she got it from my mother (Gem) 25 odd years ago. The trouble is that my mother is adamant that she has never made anything of the sort before. I put it down to old age and mild dementia. Mother, your tart was lovely and I even sacrificed some Jonny Walker Black label for the syrup!

For interest sake we decided to send off a message in a bottle. Well 3 actually! These we plopped into the water at our half way mark. We will be very interested if anyone A) finds them and B) takes the time to respond. We even put our mailing address in incase we find some one who is rather old school and responds by snail mail! Wouldn't that be
exciting?!

On the subject of litter in the ocean, there is none! Admittedly this is probably due to the wind and current coming from Antarctica where there are few humans to pollute the sea. Makes for a nice change coming from the Atlantic / Caribbean.