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.
