Position: Same as yesterday

It’s always pretty hot and humid here, so yes, we’re both sitting at the dinner table eating my just made fish chowder without shirts on. I’m the fortunate one in this situation. Actually we both have gone native. All pretense toward modesty has vanished. We take our showers in the buff in the cockpit by dumping the tea kettle of water over our heads, soaping up and then rinsing with said kettle. If there’s a boat really nearby, we’ll rig a towel on the lifelines with a couple clothespins, but otherwise, it’s just a joy to shower under the clear blue sky and warm air.

But, enough of that. Today we went for a walk into the village after sitting out part of the morning waiting for a huge squall to work its way through. You could hardly see 100 feet for the rain, but it really gave Charisma a good washdown with fresh water. Village is sort of loosely applied here since there might be a dozen houses. There are probably others not too far away since there’s a small church and school as well, but in several hours of hiking I think we saw half a dozen people in total. The only store was closed.

It was fun though. We went in with Blue Rodeo on their dinghy to a small concrete wharf. Most of the villages have one to allow the supply boat a place to tie up and off load supplies. Otherwise, there’s no way for these folks to get basic stores short of taking their outrigger a dozen miles across the ocean to Atuona, which itself is pretty small. As we came into the wharf six or seven kids were playing in the water at one end with two mothers who were sitting in the water cooling off. We said our; “bon jours” and moved inland and very shortly met with a man who asked if we wanted to see something. We’re not sure what he said, but we followed. Turns out he is a really good woodworker. He showed us some jewelry he made out of boars tusks, some carvings he had done and then he showed us a long (about two feet) tiki like thing. Looked kind of like an oversize letter opener, but with beautifully carved tikis, totem pole like, carved and a long sword at the end. Fascinated, I picked it up to admire it and asked what it was. He said (more like signed due to our language barrier) that it was just decorative, but that the top was made our of cow bone and the long sword-like part was made from Marlin. There was some decorative string that wrapped the two parts seamlessly together made from coconut husks that his wife braided. OK, I had to have this. “How much” I signed. He wrote down; “12,000” which in Marquesan money is $120. I said I’d think about it and maybe we’d come back. He was OK with that, so we walked away. I’ve found that it’s easy to bargain when you are by yourself instead of with other people, so I slipped back to his house and asked: “How about Sept” (pronounced “Seht”) This was about $70 dollars and probably still too much except you could never find anything this beautiful or unique anywhere else, so how do you value it? Anyway, he thought a moment and said; “OK”. We’re now the proud owners of a marlin/cowbone/tiki thing. It’s really quite beautiful. Wish I could post a picture.

After spending some time with our new friend, we took off on the main road through town. It started out as a nice stone wall-lined road with coral and rock base and trees that covered it such that it felt a bit like walking into a cave, but once we went through the main village (about ¼ mile) it devolved into more of a mud puddle than road and it soon turned into a trail. The good part about that was that we were able to pick a bunch (about three dozen) of bananas, three papaya a huge coconut and some peppers that grew wild by the side of the road. We also walked up high enough over the bay to get some spectacular views of this side of the island and our anchorage. Blue Rodeo and Charisma are the only two boats here.

After a nice walk back and dinghy ride to the boat, we put the fruit in a mesh bag and hung it over the side to drown any bugs that might hope to get into the boat. Then we put on our snorkel gear and jumped in. We’re only about 50 yards from shore in 30 feet of water. It’s so clear we could see the bottom standing on the boat. I jumped in, dove down and immediately came face to face with a barracuda. Nice! They’re not dangerous as some think. I pointed it to Ann who just smiled and we swam toward more shallow water to see the reef fish. We saw some magnificent fish in brilliant blues, golds, aquamarine, vivid reds and more than you can imagine. After 45 minutes we swam back to do some chores and cook dinner. Later in the evening Ann called Blue Rodeo on the VHF to talk about something. They also went swimming just a little ways from us and reported that they saw a “small” black tip reef shark. Hmmm, we were thinking of going swimming again tomorrow morning. We’ll see.no-footer

Position: Same as yesterday

It’s always pretty hot and humid here, so yes, we’re both sitting at the dinner table eating my just made fish chowder without shirts on. I’m the fortunate one in this situation. Actually we both have gone native. All pretense toward modesty has vanished. We take our showers in the buff in the cockpit by dumping the tea kettle of water over our heads, soaping up and then rinsing with said kettle. If there’s a boat really nearby, we’ll rig a towel on the lifelines with a couple clothespins, but otherwise, it’s just a joy to shower under the clear blue sky and warm air.

But, enough of that. Today we went for a walk into the village after sitting out part of the morning waiting for a huge squall to work its way through. You could hardly see 100 feet for the rain, but it really gave Charisma a good washdown with fresh water. Village is sort of loosely applied here since there might be a dozen houses. There are probably others not too far away since there’s a small church and school as well, but in several hours of hiking I think we saw half a dozen people in total. The only store was closed.

It was fun though. We went in with Blue Rodeo on their dinghy to a small concrete wharf. Most of the villages have one to allow the supply boat a place to tie up and off load supplies. Otherwise, there’s no way for these folks to get basic stores short of taking their outrigger a dozen miles across the ocean to Atuona, which itself is pretty small. As we came into the wharf six or seven kids were playing in the water at one end with two mothers who were sitting in the water cooling off. We said our; “bon jours” and moved inland and very shortly met with a man who asked if we wanted to see something. We’re not sure what he said, but we followed. Turns out he is a really good woodworker. He showed us some jewelry he made out of boars tusks, some carvings he had done and then he showed us a long (about two feet) tiki like thing. Looked kind of like an oversize letter opener, but with beautifully carved tikis, totem pole like, carved and a long sword at the end. Fascinated, I picked it up to admire it and asked what it was. He said (more like signed due to our language barrier) that it was just decorative, but that the top was made our of cow bone and the long sword-like part was made from Marlin. There was some decorative string that wrapped the two parts seamlessly together made from coconut husks that his wife braided. OK, I had to have this. “How much” I signed. He wrote down; “12,000” which in Marquesan money is $120. I said I’d think about it and maybe we’d come back. He was OK with that, so we walked away. I’ve found that it’s easy to bargain when you are by yourself instead of with other people, so I slipped back to his house and asked: “How about Sept” (pronounced “Seht”) This was about $70 dollars and probably still too much except you could never find anything this beautiful or unique anywhere else, so how do you value it? Anyway, he thought a moment and said; “OK”. We’re now the proud owners of a marlin/cowbone/tiki thing. It’s really quite beautiful. Wish I could post a picture.

After spending some time with our new friend, we took off on the main road through town. It started out as a nice stone wall-lined road with coral and rock base and trees that covered it such that it felt a bit like walking into a cave, but once we went through the main village (about ¼ mile) it devolved into more of a mud puddle than road and it soon turned into a trail. The good part about that was that we were able to pick a bunch (about three dozen) of bananas, three papaya a huge coconut and some peppers that grew wild by the side of the road. We also walked up high enough over the bay to get some spectacular views of this side of the island and our anchorage. Blue Rodeo and Charisma are the only two boats here.

After a nice walk back and dinghy ride to the boat, we put the fruit in a mesh bag and hung it over the side to drown any bugs that might hope to get into the boat. Then we put on our snorkel gear and jumped in. We’re only about 50 yards from shore in 30 feet of water. It’s so clear we could see the bottom standing on the boat. I jumped in, dove down and immediately came face to face with a barracuda. Nice! They’re not dangerous as some think. I pointed it to Ann who just smiled and we swam toward more shallow water to see the reef fish. We saw some magnificent fish in brilliant blues, golds, aquamarine, vivid reds and more than you can imagine. After 45 minutes we swam back to do some chores and cook dinner. Later in the evening Ann called Blue Rodeo on the VHF to talk about something. They also went swimming just a little ways from us and reported that they saw a “small” black tip reef shark. Hmmm, we were thinking of going swimming again tomorrow morning. We’ll see.

Position: 09 degrees, 57 minutes South; 139 degrees, 07 minutes West

Today we got up early and sailed to the next island on our trip- Tahuata. Right now we’re anchored in a lovely little bay about 30 yards from a steep hill covered with coconut palms. Hapatoni Bay. We tried anchoring a little further South of here right in front of the village, but there was too much coral. We don’t anchor in coral for two reasons: the anchor chain breaks the coral off which is bad for the ecology and anchor chains will wrap around coral heads and become impossible to pull up. So, we moved from our intended anchorage to this nice spot about ¼ mile away. Tomorrow we will take the dinghy into town and explore. There’s supposed to be more archeological ruins here as well as local crafts (mostly wood-carving) to see. It would also be nice to get some fresh fruit as we’re getting low. Ann is making banana bread from the last of our huge stalk of bananas. A nice surprise, our friends from Blue Rodeo sailed past and we called them on the VHF. They didn’t recognize our boat visually as they sailed by since Ann finished the new bimini, but once they knew we were here, they decided to stop in, anchored next to us and we got invited to their boat for dinner. Yay! So, catching up on yesterday (Sunday). We and several of the other boats thought it would be interesting to attend Polynesian Sunday worship. It starts fairly early before the heat of the day (there’s no air conditioning around here to keep things cool) so we were up at dawn for our coffee and went ashore at 0730 to make sure we got a seat. It was a Catholic service spoken in Polynesian but Ann and several others reported that the flow and cadence was exactly the same as they are used to and was therefore easy for them to follow along. There were some striking differences though. Instead of organ music, they had guitars and ukuleles to accompany the singing-and to my ear the singing was so joyous and heartfelt, it was very moving. Also, instead of the depiction of Christ crucified on a cross, this Christ was a beautiful carving above the altar where Christ was walking with arms outstretched with rays of sunlight carved into the statue and a very large, freshly made lei hanging around His neck. At the same time as the Mass, the children of the village were in Sunday school next door and we could hear them singing. After the Mass, the children come into the church and everyone sings as few songs together before it’s done and time to go. One other fun thing about this morning at church was that since we had enjoyed dinner the night before at the Matriarchal Chief of the village and it was her granddaughter’s birthday as well (which we were part of), we had met a LOT of the children and other people in the village. Thus on Sunday morning we were welcomed very warmly not just by villagers, but by people who we had befriended at the dinner the night before. The sermon was given by our favorite ukulele player who we have since learned is the husband of our hostess After church, we went back to Charisma for some boat projects to fill up the rest of the day. Ann sewed the new bimini out of our sunshade fabric. It’s working great! Really helps cut the direct sun. I jumped in the warm water and scrubbed the marine growth off the side of the boat. The day’s activities were followed by “Charismas” at sunset where we were thrilled to see the GREEN FLASH as the sun set below the horizon. I’ve seen it a couple of other times in the tropics, but this one was the longest I’ve ever seen lasting for five or more seconds. A very cool way to end a wonderful day. After dinner, we were invited to “Gato Go” for a game of dominos which was a nice way to end the day. The only downside to the day was the very squally wind. We didn’t sleep really well because there were gusts in the mid-thirties. You always worry about the anchor dragging in that kind of wind and even though our anchor was very secure, having been set for three days, the wind gusts as they moan and howl through the rigging rattling anything not securely tied down just won’t quite allow a peaceful sleep. Oh well, small price to pay for the incredible experiences we are having the privilege to see and do. A few answers from some of the recent posts: Jerry (jham) asked a few days ago; did Ann have her glasses tied on. Yes. She had some straps and they were tied tightly but the surf grabbed them right off. Jerry also asked about the “cute native girls in their grass skirts”. The little girls are darling. By the time most of them are past their teens they could only be described as “very large island girls”. They do have a “large” elegance and beauty and nothing beats a Marquesan hulu which we have been privileged to watch several performances so far. Lastly, on nasty bugs: Yes, there are a few. The two that bother us are the giant wasps and the nonos. The wasps are huge, but fortunately just curious and not aggressive. Just scary looking. And enough good ol’ Deet seems to keep the nonos at bay when other friends of ours are covered in itchy bug bites. It seems they like the women more than the men. Lucky guys! Christine (CJ), there is no good internet here. Only the shortwave that allows us to upload these text posts. I spent 2 hours on wi-fi at the post office in Atuona/Hiva Oa as I thought we might get pictures loaded from there, but only text went through. Pics clogged the system. Might be a while before we get near enough bandwidth. Sorry, because some of the places are amazing to see. Cliff, (camcauliffe) thanks for all your posts. We enjoy reading them (and all the others), every night. New Zealand sounds good, but we’ll have to figure out timing and such over the holidays as we don’t know where we’ll end up yet. Joan and Paul, thanks for the notes. Ann loves to hear from you guys. Several of the islanders have been really surprised when Ann has told them that she has six siblings. Lisa (llmiller), If we do a book, you’ll have to be the copy editor and proof-reader!

Again, thanks to everyone who posts a reply. It’s so entertaining for us to read them every night and keeps us in touch with our friends and family.

Local kids doing "high fives" after church.

We haven’t had enough time today to put together an entry, so will leave you with a short message until tomorrow.

Got up at 0600 for breakfast because we went into the Church here in Bay of Virgins for Catholic Mass. It was all in Marquesan and it was beautiful. More tomorrow, but I’ll say that they had a guitar and ukelele to accompany the singers.

Then back to Charisma for boat projects. Ann made a bimini out of sun-shade fabric. A bimini is basically a tent that goes over the cockpit to provide some relief from the sun. It works!

I jumped in the incredibly warm water and went around the waterline scrubbing the marine life that grows on cruising boats. The bottom paint is working great, but Charisma’s hull was brown with marine growth where the bow wave comes up. 45 minutes of scrubbing with snorkel, mask and fins wiped me out and I took a nap while Ann finished putting grommets in the bimini and went for a swim herself.

After dinner, we were invited to our friends boat; “Gato Go” for a game of Mexican Train (dominos). Craig and Bruce are so nice and fun to talk to. Had a great night and were sorry to leave a little earlier than usual since a) it was verrrry windy/gusty and I was worried about being able to row back to Charisma in the dark and b) we’re leaving this spot in paradise tomorrow for a new island called Tahuata and have to get up and out by 0600 if we’re going to be sure to make it before dark (in case of light winds). More about it later, but it’s about a 30 mile sail, so we want to get an early start.

Why am I so tired all the time? This cruising’s hard work, that’s why. 😉

David the carver. Beautiful work. I bought two of his rosewood designs (not these two)

Breadfruit for the feast

Cooking Breadfruit on the coals

Husking the breadfruit

Entertainment while we were cooking

Some of the kids (the one with the Mandolin was the birthday girl)

Making Tapa (paper made from tree bark)

Some of the tapa art.

We are still in Fatu Hiva at the Bay of Virgins. So what did I win you ask? A day at play! But first let me tell you what Bob accomplished because he was a very busy man. First he identified the leak in our dinghy. Unfortunately it is actually a split seam and the special glue made for the dinghy did not repair the problem. Tomorrow he will try a different type of glue. Most exciting is that Bob installed a fan in the quarter berth – where we sleep. Woo hoo! The islands are warm even at night so this is a welcome upgrade. Not quite air conditioning but we can pretend. Bob also took apart the binnacle to investigate a squeak and a groan in the helm. Fortunately it was a chain and sprocket (which he greased) and teflon bearings and he feels good about the “fix”. Having never pulled the helm apart before he was a little apprehensive but all went well. And what did the winner (of no contest at all, just got lucky with a nice guy who let me go play -all day!) do? I joined the women (from Island Bound, The Rose, Blue Rodeo and Orcinius) and Mark (from Blue Rodeo) on the hike to the waterfall. What a hike! We all had heard part of the directions from different sources (kind of like this: go up the road that goes over the pass, after the second dirt road, turn onto the ranger road, pass the house with the barking dogs… obviously we were glad to see cairns when we hit the steep area because it meant we probably were on the right path) and by combining all our directions, the seven of us found the 200 foot waterfall. It was a strenuous hike, especially the last portion, but Lisa from Orcinius, an avid mountain climber in her pre-cruising life, led the way and we all made it. Mark did not succumb to the excess of estrogen and also enjoyed the hike. The waterfall fell down a granite face out of the lush green spires into a deep cool pool. Rebecca and Pat from The Rose and Mark and I could not resist the cool water and enjoyed a lovely swim before we all packed it up and returned down into the valley. We had to make a quick return to our boats and clean up in time for our 2 pm cooking lesson with the chief of the island – actually the matriarchal chief. She had offered to cook dinner for us for a set fee yesterday when we were at her house looking at carvings but as we said in yesterday’s blog we talked her into including a cooking lesson. Well Chief Kati had pre-prepared most of the meal by the time we got there. Coconut had been shredded, tuna and chicken cut up, bananas peeled and steamed. Our lesson consisted of putting all of the final parts together with explanations as to how she got to that stage. Works for me! The menu included papaya salad, steamed bananas, breadfruit (not my favorite but fun to watch the preparation), chicken in coconut milk, poisson cru, fried fish and baked chicken. Today also happened to be her granddaughter’s 9th birthday so we celebrated her birthday too. What we bargained for was a cooking lesson. What we got was an afternoon and evening of true Polynesian spirit. The two hours of “cooking lessons” also included playing with her granddaughter and 3 other 4-6 year old girls that Kati was taking care of. Two of guys that do carvings for her also came to help and were delightful. It felt like we had stepped into their lives and were at a family reunion. The little girls played with everyone’s camera taking lots of fun pictures. Kati did a fantastic job of communicating with all of us. The guys who set up tables and barbecues loved having us help and enjoyed teasing us about eating manta rays. Apparently they really do eat them but due to conservation the entire village (42 houses per Katie) split one every few years. As the meal came together our guys from the boats came and joined us for dinner. It was delicious and way too much food. We all sang Happy Birthday to her granddaughter, Caroline. And then the music really kicked in. Kati’s guys brought out a guitar and ukulele. Man can they play and sing! And the little girls got in on the act too singing and dancing. Caroline was as good a Polynesian dancer as any of us had ever seen. John, from Orcinius, was invited to dance by Caroline (yes, his wife Lisa and I encouraged it) and really played along. The little girls were hysterical laughing at him. What a sport! This musical entertainment lasted for several hours with all of us spellbound. It was so great to really be a part of this special family. We came as customers, we left as special friends. So much more than we expected. We saw the joyous side of Polynesia tonight! And to top it all off, a moonlit walk back to the water and a lovely moonlit shower on the boat, started with a quick jump into the bay to cool off! Winner, winner… and so very lucky!

Position: Same as yesterday

Woke up to a grey, squally day, but we’re safely tucked into this incredible bay so who cares? We were going to go for a hike up to the waterfall, but as we got ashore it started raining like a monsoon with thunder and lightning. The locals said; “Not a good day. Trees come down the river”. The meaning of course – flash floods. So…we spent the day walking around the village going from house to house viewing the local crafts. This village (we’d be surprised if there were 100 people here) is known for its wood carvings and it’s the only place in the Marquesas where they still make the Tapa or tree bark paper by hand. We weren’t disappointed either. The work was very impressive and we bought a two foot tall Tiki and a ceremonial sword, both made from locally grown rosewood. We also bought a serving plate made from ebony. All three are beautiful and the most I paid for any one was $40 (which is still extravagant, but the work really is exquisite). I also bought Ann a black pearl necklace with a silver string and leather necklace. Very pretty. Anyway, the tour of town was a kick. We would basically just walk through the small village-it’s just one road that you follow up the valley from the bay-and people would gesture from their yard; “come here, come here” and we’d walk around back and see their workshop. Then they would bring out piece after piece of their work for you to look at. Lots of fun! There are no shops here, just homes carved into the jungle. (Usually with some puppies and at least one pig rooting nearby. We were told that the dogs are kept to help hunt the pigs.) The last place we stopped at also offered that they would cook dinner for us tomorrow night. Since we just did that last night, we weren’t that interested but someone in our group negotiated (one of our group commented that this must be how the United Nations works – each of us trying our best to communicate yet no one being totally conversant in each other’s language) it into a Polynesian cooking lesson after which we would eat the dinner. So…tomorrow, we’re going to try and do the waterfall again, then Polynesian cooking class followed by dinner. And we wonder where all the time goes. We’ll probably stay here through Sunday as we have heard there is a delightful church service with lots of singing-all of which Ann is very interested in seeing. It’s also fun trading for stuff. Since this place is so remote, many of the people here don’t have much use for money. Trade is more valuable. They are tough traders, but I managed to get four papplemoose for four fish hooks. The women want perfume and cosmetics and Ann has some perfume samples so we hope to trade for papayas tomorrow. I wish I could add pictures to this because I just can’t do justice to this place with words (but I’ll try). The bay is ½ mile wide on the ocean side and narrows to just 50 yards at the head where there’s a small wharf and pebble beach (where the children were playing in the surf today). Literally from the water, the volcanic mountains jut straight up for at least 1000 feet. Very jagged and covered with coconut palms and jungle and interspersed with black volcanic spires (somewhat phallic looking – the rumor is that the bay was originally named the bay of penises but the missionaries added an “e” that changed the French name to virgins), each of which are several hundred feet tall. At times, the clouds shroud the hills and at other times it all opens up to blue sky. Each version of sky has a different mood. The blue sky brings a feeling of amazing tropical splendor. The cloudy look with wisps of grey swirling amongst the peaks takes us back thousands of years to prehistoric times. You are expecting pterodactyls to come swooping down out of the mountains. As I’m finishing this, I’m looking up at a clearing sky with the full moon directly above and the Southern Cross shinning just above the jagged ridgeline to the South. But wait, just as I thought the day was clearing, another squall with its rolling clouds and dark streaks of rain blotting out the sky just rolled over the mountain peak above the village. Oh well. We’ll be “up and down” tonight doing the squall dance. What’s that you ask? Closing the hatches and portholes when it rains hard. You have to keep them open from the heat in order to sleep, but when the rain starts, you have to jump up and close all the hatches or the inside of the boat gets soaked. And so it goes in the tropics. We’re having fun.

Position: 10 degrees, 28 minutes South; 138 degrees, 40 minutes West

Making landfall into the full moon with the sun setting behind us. Beautiful!

Bay of Virgins

We left Hiva Oa this morning at 0600 for the 40-some mile passage South to Fatu Hiva. The sail was very relaxing, mostly wind in the 8-10 knot range, which meant boat speed around 4-5 knots most of the day. We timed it just right as we arrived at the Bay of Virgins in Fatu Hiva just about sunset. As we turned the corner into the bay, we were stunned. A more dramatic place is hard to imagine. Volcanic spires rising out of the ocean hundreds of feet line the jagged ridgeline. Jungle, waterfalls, palm trees. Everything you imagine but can’t quite believe true. A little village is tucked into a valley at the head of the bay. We will do some browsing through the village tomorrow (they are known for their wood carving and traditional paper making (tapa) and we’ll take a hike up to the waterfall purported to be 200 feet tall. On the timing part: This bay is very deep and shallows quickly at the very end. The other boats here were anchored such that on the first pass I tried to anchor just behind the last row. This put us in almost 70 feet of water. I made a “rookie” mistake of dropping the anchor anyway and then letting out all 210 feet of chain on board. This only left a three to one scope at best, on a downsloping bottom. No bueno. So as the sun was setting we rushed to crank all the chain back aboard so we could move to a spot closer to shore. It was going to be tight. Once the sun sets it goes dark very quickly and you can’t anchor in such small difficult spots as we have here, at night. If the hook’s not set before dark, you have no choice but to go out and heave to offshore for the night and try again in the morning. We’ve already seen one boat in the last week who had to do exactly that. Anyway, people were rooting for us (in a nice way) to get the anchor up and moved. On our second try, we went for a very aggressive position just a boat length off our friends on Orcinius who were gracious enough to wave and tell us to feel free to anchor there. Got the anchor on the bottom in 36 feet, 150 feet of chain down, backed Charisma up, felt/heard the anchor chattering down a rock bottom then it grabbed. We reversed hard to check it and it held. We breathed a sigh of relief as I looked back at Ann and saw that I couldn’t see her as it just literally turned into night. Just made it. Some of the other boats had arranged it with one of the townsfolk to have Polynesian dinner at their house. They called on the VHF and invited us and we gladly accepted, too tired from the day’s sailing to really want to cook dinner. Had a great dinner at the house with all the usual great Polynesian food; poission cru, fish, chicken, cooked bananas, papaya slaw salad, breadfruit and more. Great time. Now we’re tired and going to sleep. More tomorrow.

Position: same as yesterday in Baie Puamau

The Tiki is considered to be a "protector"

Some are shorter than others...

With Mark and Ann from Blue Rodeo

Me Big Tiki!

Today was the big day to go ashore. As we sat in the cockpit enjoying our morning coffee, bananas and papaya, I was watching the waves breaking on shore and thought they looked pretty good size, but manageable in the dinghy. Mark on Blue Rodeo, our boat neighbor, thought the same, so after checking the weather on the shortwave (forecast East wind, 12 knots occasionally to 16) we decided to go for it. We packed all our gear in our dry bags, no use taking a chance on getting cameras wet with an unplanned dunk, and we headed ashore in our respective dinghies. Approaching the surf zone, we waited for a set to go through before timing our approach. Hmm, the waves were looking a little bigger than they did from the boat. But, we found a lull and headed in. Mostly 2 foot faces, which are plenty big enough on inflatable dinghies, but manageable. Surfed the last 10 yards on some whitewater and slid up onto the sand. We all jumped out whooping; “we made it, we made it, without getting wet. Yahooo!” So we pulled the dinghies up the beach and tied them to a couple trees in case the tide came up high while we were gone. We had no idea how long we might be gone.

This was one of those really hot, but beautiful tropical days. Clear blue sky and blazing sun. Even though it was only 1000, we were perspiring to the point our clothes were drenched. Thank goodness for a slight breeze or it would really be hot. We headed toward what looked to be the main part of town. Hard to tell, as the area is very dense and lush with palm trees, banana trees and many other tropical fruit and general jungle. You don’t see people’s houses until you are right on them. Most of the houses are very basic; lots of open sides (i.e. few windows and tin or thatched roofs) and lanais with which to sit and enjoy the ocean breeze. Anyway, we walked in what looked to be a promising direction and after a bit, came upon a sort of restaurant/convenience store. Got directions from the proprietress and we conversed in broken French enough to determine that the way to the Tikis was up the hill. And I do mean UP. This bay is surrounded by vertical mountains that rise virtually straight up out of the water. Somehow people manage to build on the lower part of the slope, but it becomes too steep within a ¼ mile of the water, so the town is very small. Anyway, up we went. After so much time on the boat, we were all huffing and puffing our way, not having gotten much aerobic activity in the last month or more. As we walked, we saw a lot of horses “parked” by the side of the road. There are a few cars here, but horses seem to be easier. People ride them to visit or work, then tie them to a tree on the side of the road. We were disappointed to not see a lot of people this day. Maybe they were being smart not going out in the heat of the day like us.

On the walk uphill, we were continually amazed by the abundance of fruit. It’s everywhere. Bananas hanging within reach on the side of the road, coconuts overhead dropping their fruit (we took one back for our Charismas and are enjoying the meat for dessert), pamplemoose, mangoes, starfruit and a couple others we haven’t yet been able to identify.

So, after walking uphill for ½ an hour, we finally got to the former holy spot where the Tikis are. We were not disappointed. They are majestic and amazing. You can still feel the Mana when you stand there. The largest one was eight feet tall and gazed out over the bay and the Pacific beyond. The area had several “lesser” Tikis as well as other statues and stone terraces where you could easily imagine ancient rituals being held (probably with lots of fruit). We all decided it was a spectacular spot and well worth the trip up the hill.

The real heat of the day was on us, so time to get back to the boats. As we got back down the hill and to the water, we realized that the wind had come up significantly and more importantly the waves had increased in size. Hmmm, these were some big waves now and the seemed unrelenting and without the usual “sets” that let you get out during a lull. Easily three foot faces. Getting out through this surf in our inflatable dinghy was going to prove daunting. We stood there quite a while, each couple planning their own exit strategy. Mark and Anne’s dinghy had a small outboard and a rigid aluminum bottom. Ann and I had just oars. The surf zone went out about thirty yards, so we would have to row that far, really fast to get outside without getting hit by one of the larger waves. I actually considered sitting it out and waiting on the beach until later in the day (around 1700 or so when the waves and wind usually die down a bit) but I thought we could probably make it out. Anyway, worse thing we get wet, right?

We prepared the dinghy for what was looking like a rough trip. All our extra clothes, shoes, cameras, water bottles, etc. went in the dry bags and were sealed. Ann hooked the dry bags onto one of the lifting slings. As a further precaution, at the last moment, I also tied the bags down to the “d-ring” in the bow of the dinghy. Turned out to be a good thing.

Once prepared, we waded out into the surf up to our waists and waited, watching. We watched through three sets to get a feel for the timing of the lulls. There weren’t really any good ones. There were a lot of “sneaker” waves that would break into the lulls. I briefed Ann on what to do if we were flipped (bail out the side so the dinghy doesn’t hit you as it flips, put your hand over your face to hold you glasses on as you go under). After about 10 minutes I saw a lull and said; “let’s go!” Ann jumped in the back. I ran it a few more steps into deeper water and jumped in, grabbed the oars and rowed! I mean really ROWED. Ann was facing forward so she would see the waves; “here comes one, hang on!” and blam, we’d get hit by a wave and sucked back 10 feet. ROW, ROW, ROW, gotta get outside before one of the big ones comes in. “Here comes another one” BLAM! Past that one, we’re getting outside the surf zone, beyond the whitewater. “Here’s another one!” We got just over the crest on that one and now we’re outside the zone. Mark and Anne are on the beach cheering. We’re soaking wet, but we’ve done it! I rowed a few more yards to make sure we were safely outside, then slowed down in order to wait for Mark and Anne in the other dinghy who seeing us safely outside turned around and walked back to their dinghy waiting on the beach so they could now launch. Just then Ann says; “OH NO, LOOK OUT!” I turn my head just in time to see the biggest wave we had seen. This one had to be a four to six foot face, especially since we were at least 15-20 yards past where all the waves had been breaking. By the time it registered with me that it was big, and peaking, it lifted us vertically-I was looking down at Ann from the top of the wave-and flipped us bow over stern. I bailed out to the side as I had briefed Ann to do. She reported (afterward) that since the wave appeared out of nowhere and it happened so fast, she didn’t have time to react and the boat flipped her backwards into the water and went over her. The last thing I remember is putting my hand over my prescription sunglasses as I went under. I had the glasses with one hand and a handhold of the dinghy in the other. I felt the surf pull my hat off my head. The other thing I remember is thinking; “man, this water is really warm!” I came up still holding onto the dinghy which was now upside down. Looked around for Ann, she was a few yards away and looked well in control, so I worked on trying to right the dinghy before the next wave hit. Wasn’t gonna happen. It is very hard for one person to right a dinghy in the surf zone, so I resigned myself to just guiding it in as follow up waves hit us and grabbing anything that might fall off. We were soon back on the beach and realized we were actually exhausted. It took quite a bit of effort to get back through the waves to shore with a swamped dinghy. Unfortunately Ann lost her glasses and one shoe. We sat down to rest. Mark and Anne looked worriedly at their own departure. We went over to talk with them a moment as they were standing on the edge of the surf getting ready to try the same thing, but in their case with a RIB (rigid inflatable boat-it has an aluminum boat bottom with inflatable sides. “What happened” I wanted to know. “We don’t know! We saw that you made it, so we turned around to get our boat and when we turned back you guys were in the water”.

I’ll fast forward a bit. We found Ann’s shoe washed up down the beach so she has two “reef walkers” again. One of the dry bags blew open and got drenched. Fortunately just the one with the shoes. The one with the cameras held and the cameras are safe and dry. Now we’re sitting on the beach trying to get our wits back and two Marquesan teenagers came down to the boat and pointed at the water to say; “We get you out”. I thought, why not? I’m tired now from our first attempt, I’ll take a little help. So, these two guys drag the dinghy out while we jump in. Through the surf they pull us, hanging on as the whitewater tries to drag the boat back to shore. Finally a big final shove and we’re on our own. Again. ROW, ROW, ROW. This time I’m not stopping for anything until we’re at least 50 yards past the surf line. We came close on a couple of waves and I thought; “oh, not again!”, but we made it. Whew! Mark and Anne followed soon after punching through the surf with their aluminum hull and outboard. Two different boats, two different strategies and outcomes. We’re all certain of three things. One; we DID make it out. Two; it was a rogue wave that took us back in. Three; never stop just outside of the surf line because you think you’re far enough. This isn’t Santa Cruz with predictable waves. This is the middle of the Pacific Ocean. What I call a “learning experience”.

Post Script: I mentioned yesterday the solenoid for the engine shut off broke. Today after our excursion, I had time to really look at it and found the pushrod on the solenoid was no longer attached to the lever on the fuel injector pump. I spend a good 20 minutes looking around the engine and in the bilge to find the part, but to no avail. So, I look in the engine manual expecting to see that it’s some kind of exotic rod that needs to be calibrated and whatever and what do I find? It’s a bolt. OK, I can fix this. I look though all my nuts and bolts and pure luck I fine TWO bolts that are the right fit. They are leftovers from some other project I did that I can’t remember and I saved the bolts. So, screwed it on (with the requisite amount of swearing due to the difficult location-fortunately I have a small angle driver as there’s no room for a normal screwdriver). Everything seems to fit. Ann went into the cockpit; “OK, turn it on” Vroom, clank, clank, clank (that’s a normal diesel sound at idle). “OK, push the cut-off button” Blessed silence. Sometimes things work.

Quite a day.

P.P.S. Tomorrow, we leave Hiva Oa and head South about 40 miles to the island of Fatu Hiva. It’s known as a more primitive, less visited island. We’re looking forward to it.

Position: 09 degrees, 45 minutes South; 138 degrees, 52 minutes West

Sail repair!

Landfall at PuaMau

Sailing along the coast of Hiva Oa

Before we tell you just HOW pleased we are with ourselves, I’ll tell about how cruising isn’t all fun and games. Yesterday when we were folding the main as we got ready to anchor in Hanamenu Baie, we noticed what looked like a tear in the sail. Turned out a seam broke. Right above the second reef, about 10 inches of thread came out and the seam was threatening to split wide open. Sooo…Our job first thing this morning (well, right after coffee and bananas-more on that later) was to sew the seam back together. This had to be done by hand as taking the sail off the boom to use the sewing machine would have been a bigger undertaking than it was worth. So, Ann with needle and palm (look it up) and me with pliers to pull the needle through the layers of sailcloth took about an hour to sew the split 10 inch seam. There were three lines of stitching in this seam. But worth the effort as the seam looked great the next time we put up the main. Once done with that we hauled anchor. As we were in 40 feet of water, I had 200 feet of chain out. Not a walk in the park to lift 200 feet of chain followed by a 40 lb CQR anchor, all with a manual winch. Add to that the fact that we had to anchor twice yesterday and again today in 35 feet makes today a three aspirin day. Yesterday we dropped 150 feet the first time and as we were backing down to set the anchor I could hear the anchor (through the chain) just “skidder” along on top on solid rock. No way it was setting. Sounded like it was just dragging down an asphalt road and Charisma just kept backing and backing. No hold. So, up anchor (ugh) and back around for another shot. We went a little farther out this time and dropped. Sand. Yay! The only downside, now we were in 40 feet. More scope, more chain. Oh well. Welcome to the tropics. I think all our anchorages are going to be this deep. So….we left Hanamenu. Beautiful day. Squalls all gone. Only problem; very little wind. We spent the whole day to get 9 miles up the coast. Hard work sailing in sloppy seas and only 4-6 knots of wind, but there’s not a lot of diesel available out here and we don’t want to rely on the engine in any case. After leaving Hanamenu at around 1000, we arrived 9 miles later at Baie Puamau at around 1600. We dropped anchor in about 35 feet and hit sand, so good solid hold. BUT, nothing’s easy; there’s some big rollers coming in here and the wind is contrary so we were lying crosswise to the swell. Rats! We have to put out a stern anchor to keep us lined up to the swell so we won’t rock gunwale to gunwale all night. We got ready to launch the dinghy. Ann got the pump out to top off the air while I got the stern anchor ready. While I was sorting out the chain and anchor rode Ann came back; “Bob, come up and listen to this. There’s a funny noise I can’t figure out”. So, up to the foredeck. Ann pumped, I listened. Leak! Fortunately only in the tube that is the keel, so not critical. We have a patch kit and we’ll work on it tomorrow. But, frustration number two for today (not counting the light wind).

We launched the dinghy so I could row out with the stern anchor and drop it 100 feet or so beyond the stern, but before I get in the dinghy, I go to turn off the engine. I press the solenoid stop button and…nothing. The engine keeps singing away. I can hear the solenoid “click” but no stoppage. Rats! That’s number three. I’m getting really pissed off right now. The engine won’t turn off, the boat is rolling like crazy because it’s sideways to the swell and I’m in a dinghy that’s partially deflated trying to take a 30 lb anchor and 20 feet of chain 100 feet behind the boat. Got the anchor thing done (with Ann’s help; thanks Ann, rowed back, tied the dinghy to the side of Charisma and stomped down below to try and figure out how to turn off a rogue diesel engine. I only know theoretically what a solenoid is and how it works. Never seen one. I grabbed my engine manual and looked it up: “Hmmm, ‘Optional Remote Engine Stop’. OK, there’s the picture. It’s connected to the fuel pump. Where the hell is the fuel injector pump!!?? No, no, I know where that is. OK, got to take off the engine cover -which is under the stairs, lift the stairs and take off two more parts to the engine box. Now there it is, banging away with a menacing looking flywheel and fan belt right in front threatening to grab me if I come too close. So, I know the solenoid thingy is on the left side facing aft. First things first though; I’ve got a swimming suit on with a biiigg string tying the front. Tuck that inside and turn the hem over. Don’t want that to get caught in an alternator belt doing 3000 RPM. Then, flashlight in hand, I look around the left side near the fuel injector pump. Ahhhh, that thingy looks like a solenoid. Yes, and in fact, there’s nothing there where the pushrod should be. OK, where WAS it connected. Ah, there’s the fuel injector pump and the solenoid thingy pushrod is hanging from it. OK, what it I pull that? Ahhhhh….blessed peace. The engine is off. And another project is waiting for us to work on tomorrow ’cause I’m not leaning over a hot engine in a hot boat on a hot day today! OK, all done. Time to chill. Grab a beer, go up in the cockpit. Remind ourselves we’re in paradise. What the hell, we’ll fix it all tomorrow (how do you say; “manana in French”?) Which leads us to where we are and why we’re pleased. First off, we’re in Baie Puamau. This is the most beautiful spot yet. The bay is about ½ mile wide and the jungle covered mountains rise vertically to spectacular jagged, volcanic heights directly from the water. It’s also the location of the most extensive archeological sites on the island. As long as the weather holds, we’ll go ashore tomorrow and explore, in particular looking for petroglyphs, various statues and the largest stone Tiki in the world. The other reasons are: 1. Ann made her spectacular pressure cooker bread, so we just finished scarfing warm bread with melted butter. Yum 2. Bob made his first curry dish. Using last night’s ratatouille with some more garlic, pepper and curry powder, he combined the above with a can of chicken, some leftover rice and some of Ann’s homemade yogurt. It was Yummy! OK, time to head out and watch the stars. Oh yeah, the bananas. We have a ton of them. We got half a stock given to us at Atuona and now they are all coming ripe at once (about 35 of them!) They have been hanging in the cockpit, but it’s too hot, and they are getting too ripe. Today, I cut them off the stock and we’ve been filling the freezer, fridge and ice box with them. Last light we made banana slices with Nutella, crushed peanuts and a cherry on top, just as a way to get rid of some of the bananas!

Position: 09 degrees, 42 minutes South; 139 degrees, 00 minutes West

Here's Blue Rodeo at anchor in the late (squally) afternoon.

Today we started the day with a fine breakfast of bananas (from the stalk hanging from the binnacle), papplemoose (look it up—yummy!) and coffee. We sat in the cockpit enjoying the cool morning air watching the sunlight fill the canyon that we walked in yesterday.

Many times today we have pinched ourselves to remind us how lucky we are. WE ARE SAILING IN THE MARQUESAS! Yesterday’s visit with the Polynesians in Baia Hanamenu finally made it seem real.

We left the beautiful anchorage and let Charisma (and Bob) play on the ocean again. It was beautiful sailing along a stunning coast. The coast was decorated with shades of green (one of my favorite colors), sea caves and waterfalls. All topped by squalls that rolled over the top but stayed on shore.

We are now in another lovely little bay with just ourselves and our friends Blue Rodeo (Mark and Ann). Our own cove, again.

Blue Rodeo invited us to drinks, where we again all pinched ourselves. It seems to have hit them too. It’s setting in. Not wanting to go over empty handed we created our new Marquesan hors d’ouevres – sliced bananas topped with Nutella. We added chopped peanuts to half of them and sliced Maraschino cherries on the other half. We really were just being silly but they were a huge hit!

Oh, we had a minor burial at sea today. No, I didn’t kill the captain. After all of the cleaning I had done to the food lockers we opened one and smelled something. How could that be possible? I emptied every one and used bleach in each locker, wiped down each can, bag etc. Well, we found the offender – the eggs! I had some paper egg cartons that Cliff and Leslynn saved for us, as well as three of the REI plastic egg crates. I had planned only to use the plastic ones only to transport eggs to the boat, but in a provisioning seminar we were told that the plastic crates had worked fine and would be easier to clean up if there was any breakage. Luckily I only half listened. The 2 ½ dozen eggs in the plastic cartons had turned and were spoiling – with quite a pungent odor when I opened the crates. The dozen and a half that are in the paper cartons are fine. Over board the offending eggs went! NOW I feel confident that we have taken care of any hidden spoilage.

Now we need to eat all of the great fruit we were gifted before it spoils! By the way, Bob made up corks with four good fishing hooks inserted that we can give as gifts to the generous villagers we meet.

P.S. from Bob. I forgot to tell the other part of our Heart of Darkness tour yesterday: The pig traps. Kind of scary. We were walking through the jungle looking at the ruins and just off the path was a split coconut hanging from a string. I walked over to see what this was and almost feel into the pig trap. There was a 8×8 foot wide by 4 foot deep hole, covered by palm fronds under the split coconut. Yipes! No sharpened stakes inside or anything and one corner of the trap was “caved in” (which is how we know it was four feet deep) suggesting it had done its duty. But still kind of eerie.

Wow, this is the real Polynesia that I was hoping still existed.

First off, we just relaxed this morning, still catching up on our sleep from the passage. Had a leisurely breakfast and just sat and read books through the morning until noon. The weather helped us not plan anything too strenuous. Squally and gusty, winds up to 20 knots and occasional rain kept us under the dodger and in no hurry to go ashore. But, as the lunch hour led into the afternoon, we got a call from the other boat in the bay, our friends on Blue Rodeo, asking if we were game to go ashore. We were! Launching both dinghies, we rowed into the beach (the waves were too high to lift the outboards off their mounts and put them on the dinghies). I prepped Ann on the way in; “If we start to capsize in the surf, jump out of the dinghy and get away so it won’t hit you”. After a slightly hair-raising ride through the surf (2 foot faces, which seem somewhat like storm surf at Waimea Bay to an inflatable dinghy) we made it to the sand, dragged the dinghies up the beach and breathed a sigh of relief. Whew! Made it without the embarrassment of dumping! But we both had wet rear ends.

We walked down the beach to a little shack that had an outrigger lying on the beach out front and a Polynesian man was sitting in the shade of a coconut tree waiting for us. “Allez!” He said and we followed him into the jungle (what the heck?). First we went past a lovely grotto complete with a little waterfall backed by more coconut trees and other exotic plants. Picturesque does not even come close to describing the beauty of this little spot. But, it seemed we were on a mission, so “Allez!”, off we went further into the jungle. About a hundred yards later we came to a small set of huts set back behind a fence. “Allez!”, so we turn through the gate and walked toward the huts. Hoping this wasn’t becoming “Heart of Darkness” or “Apocalypse Now”, we continued to follow our guide. Soon we came into the small compound and sitting there (with shorts but no shirt and a large tattoo on his arm) was a very large Polynesian man. It quickly became apparent, he was in charge as he dispatched our “guide” into one of the huts. Our hope was that he wasn’t planning “Long Pig” for dinner tonight. But…the big man started talking with a big smile; Big Man Booming: “Parlez vous francaise?” Us: “Um, no, not so much”. Big Man: “Ah…Americans!” And off we went with a mixture of French, English and Polynesian. In the meantime, the “guide” came back with a watermelon and a large machete with which he quickly and deftly dispatched said watermelon and offered us huge slices; a little respite from the early afternoon heat. It tasted delicious! A few more attempts to communicate left us all with a basic understanding that a) he was a caretaker of sorts who lives in Atuona but comes out here on weekends to take care of the place (it’s listed in the guidebook as being a coconut plantation) and b) we were cruisers on our way through the islands from America and were hoping we could go for a hike through the jungle. “Ah, bien! Allez”. But we couldn’t “allez” through the jungle before he sent the “guide” behind the shack to bring back three huge papayas (we’re talking the size of melons), two cucumbers and two tomatoes for each couple. A veritable treasure trove of Polynesian fruits and vegetables. Since this was our first landfall outside of a town, we hadn’t thought through the concept of “trading” for stuff. We didn’t bring anything. So I dutifully took off my fairly new Lattitude 38 hat (that I “won” by telling a joke at one of the Lat 38 parties) and presented it to the gentlemen. I think they liked it, but am not sure. In any case, we now understand that going ashore in these lands of small villages with still somewhat tribal people means being ready to trade a bit or exchange gifts. We are now ready and won’t be so clumsy at our next attempt.

So, after our delightful encounter with these folks, we continued up the trail to see what we could see. The guidebooks suggested that we might find ancient Polynesian ruins and we were not disappointed. We also weren’t disappointed by the fact that the path through the jungle was “littered” with ripe mangoes. Yum! Going up the valley, we saw foundations of entire villages. Apparently before being “discovered” by Europeans, this was a very populous area. Some of the statistics we’ve seen were that in the 18th century it was estimated there were 60,000 people living in these islands, but by the early 20th century that number had dwindled to only a little over 2000 inhabitants. It is estimated that by the end of the 20th century, there were approximately 10,000. In any case, many of the ancient villages and even paths between them are still evident and we saw them today! There were many impressive walls and foundations spread throughout our hike in the jungle. We even found a grinding stone in the midst of several foundations and rock walls. It was a very large boulder with three indentations where people ground seeds to turn into flour and other food. Some of the foundations were built from volcanic stones that must have weighed hundreds of pounds (if not more) each. In the next several bays, we also hope to see Tikis and other idols that have been preserved. Possibly holding us back will be the weather. Beach landings here on the North side of the island can get very difficult depending on weather, so we’ll see. Stay tuned on that one.