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.

The guest of honor at the pig roast (that's bananas on top)

Yes, we have no bananas...

One of our hosts on Hanamenu

Mark and Bob with the Chief

Ruins. This is the PaePae or platform for their huts. The stonework is fantastic.

More ruins in the jungle

We left Atuona and are going around Hiva Oa in a clockwise direction. Today we sailed up the West side of the island in a nice 15-20 knot SE breeze. The North side of the island has about three nice anchorages, of which this one is the first we’ll stop at. Got here and dropped the hook about 1600. Our friends on Blue Rodeo are here as well and after we had anchored and taken our bucket showers (Ann soaped up and jumped in the bay to rinse, I sat in the cockpit during a squall and soaped up and just let the rain shower rinse me) they came over for a cocktail. We also had a bet as to whose equator crossing costumes were the best. We had seen pictures of theirs and were impressed, but they saw ours tonight and declared us the winners. After they went back to their boat, Ann made up a salad for dinner and we’ve been sitting in the warm evening air in this lovely cove. Waves breaking on the shore, half-moon shinning down, Southern Cross hanging to the South, Big Dipper pointing the way in the North. Just lovely. We’re so glad to be underway again.

Last night we went to a pig roast. One of the other boats arranged it with a local. It was truly an event. It was at his house, so didn’t feel commercial, and we got 20 people together from all the boats in the anchorage and they arranged transportation to his house up on the hill overlooking the bay. It was a great event. The food was spectacular. Pig, roasted goat, poi, baked bananas, poisson cru and several other delicacies. The man’s daughter danced several gorgeous Marquesan Hulas after dinner.

I wish I could send pictures, but there’s just no good internet here. Just the shortwave or wireless at the post office, which is really only good for text. I tried uploading pictures and it stalled. So, you all will have to live with descriptions until we’re somewhere with better access. The next place with a post office (therefore internet) is in about a week or so. We’ll see how we do then.

It really is amazing being here. Ann and I were sitting on the cabin top tonight, enjoying a glass of wine after dinner, looking out over this little bay (a cove really-it’s not very large) and marveling at how lucky we are to be in such a beautiful place.

Au revoir for now.

Not a bad place to end up!

Nice place. We’re having a good time reacquainting ourselves with land again. In fact, we were so wobbly-kneed when we got here, Ann fell down because her legs just weren’t working after 24 days at sea. I almost feel off the dock after climbing up out of the dinghy.

So, we’ve been having a good time and working our b***’s off as well as cleaning up the mess that all that time at sea makes. We were just commenting tonight that we never thought the inside of Charisma would ever be dry again. However, one good, dry day today with the intense sun and all the cushions and stuff that were damp are now dry again after being left out in the sun all day (with no squalls). Ann heroically took apart the entire supply locker which had salt water in it from a leak through the after chainplates. That’s a huge job moving hundreds of pounds of canned goods and stuff out of the lockers onto the floor and then after cleaning out the locker, moving it all back in-and packing it carefully so it fits. I cleaned the hull which had barnacles and other sea grime that was turning the hull dark brown up to two feet above the waterline. I guess the bow wave when you’re moving allows the creatures to bond with the hull above the antifouling paint. Anyway, it was grueling. In the dinghy, hanging onto Charisma with one arm while scrubbing with a brush with the other arm-all in two foot waves that were banging me into the hull the whole time. When that was done, I hauled a friend on one of the other boats 70 feet up his mast so he could run a new halyard (his broke about four days out of here); Then, I hauled another one of our friends up Charisma’s mast to look at our radar. It’s been malfunctioning and we were hoping to find some corrosion or something that we could fix. Sadly, at this point it looks like a software issue and we’re still looking for a way to make it function again. Our latest thinking is that it may have been “tweaked” by some of the lightning in the ITCZ. Here’s hoping we can get it functioning again. Then I took apart the chainplate cover that was leaking so I can reseal it tomorrow so we don’t end up with soggy mattresses and cans (that are under the mattresses).

Tomorrow, more boat projects, but we’re also heading into the village for the monthly arts and crafts fair. Also, in the evening we’re going to a pig roast. One of the other boats found a local guy who will host a pig roast at his house as long as we have at least 10 people. We do, so we are. More to come on that. We also bought an internet card, so we hope to be able to get some wi-fi and upload at least a few pictures in the next day or so. But, this is a really small and remote town, and it only works within 50 feet of the post office, so we’ll see…

Land Ho!

Not much farther now.

Hiva Oa. We are here! Spent last night from around 0300 until 0700 hove to about ten miles off the island. The radar was acting up, so I didn’t want to get any closer until daylight. Once dawn showed, we heading the last ten or so miles into Atuona Bay where we are now anchored. There are about 14 boats in total here. This place “feels” a lot like an older Hanalei. Very rural, small town. Very nice people. We’ll stay here for three or so days and then move on to less traveled areas. Our next step will be a clockwise trip around this island and we’ll likely take somewhere around a week and stop at a few different places for hiking and playing. Customs was very simple thanks to the agent we had hired through Lattitude 38. Cost was somewhere in the $200 range, but given the Gendarme only spoke French and all the hoops you need to jump through in a French protectorate, it was worth it. “Sandra” was our agent and not only gets you through customs but is also your contact while in town. Just call on VHF Channel 11 and ask and she will do her best to help out. Ride to town, ride back, need to know how to get fresh vegetables (there’s not many, but she knows where to get them), etc, etc.

This evening, we had a delightful dinner with Mark and Ann on Blue Rodeo and Bill and Kat from Island Bound. We all got in this morning from La Cruz. Even though we didn’t see each other for the 2600 or so miles, we three converged at the same time. We had fresh Mahi caught by us and fresh Wahoo caught be Bill and Kat. Nice.

That’s it for today, I can see I’m rambling from need for sleep. We’re very tired after a long, long day and night yesterday. Time for some sleep now, then boat clean- up tomorrow. It’s wet inside from the long trip and we need to dry out, air out, clean, laundry (Sondra’s going to take care of that one) and do some repairs.

Position: 09 degrees, 11 minutes South; 138 degrees, 20 minutes West (148 NM today)’

23 days at sea and counting (24 tomorrow). Wow, we’re just 38 miles out right now as of 2130 local boat time. We have had dinner, done roll call with the other 20 some boats stretched out behind us (for the last time) and watched the sun set. Now we’re settling in for the night watches. Ann’s is first and she should get us to within five or so miles after which we’ll sail around the South side of the island (Hiva Oa, in the Marquesas, French Polynesia) and if needed, heave-to until dawn. The waypoint I set is still 10 miles off the island and then there’s a good 15 mile sail around the South side to the anchorage so we may not have to heave-to depending on the wind.

This is something I’ve dreamed about for oh, about 40 some years. It’s so amazing to be doing this I can’t quite fathom it. Right now with no island in sight yet, it seems like just another sail along the coast, so I won’t get the perspective that this has been a great adventure until we’re anchored and looking at a lush, tropical island. Actually we’ll be entering at a bay called Atuona where we go through French immigration/customs. There’s a small town there. After we go through the immigration stuff, we’ll likely spend a couple days winding down and doing some boat clean up. Then we’re going to spend about a month sailing this island group and seeing the bays, inlets, villages and such. There are supposed to be some cool archeological sites with ancient Tikis and petroglyphs and of course, we’re looking forward to beautiful tropical anchorages in which to relax and enjoy the surroundings. Also, we just want to experience the area and meet the people who live here. Then we’ll move on to the next island group South of here; the Tuamotus for about a month, then on to the Society Islands where we’ll visit Tahiti, Moorea, Bora Bora and other islands of that group.

An exciting next three months on the agenda.

Position; 07 degrees, 52 minutes South; 136 degrees, 14 minutes West (149 NM)

Mahi!

Flip flop feet.

Our portrait at 21 days.

The GPS just ticked over to 199 nautical miles to go! That puts us in Hiva Oa around midnight tomorrow. Not wanting to go into a fairly primitive area at night, we’ll lay offshore for the night and make landfall after sunrise on Tuesday. Wow, what a trip. No doubt it will take a few days to gain perspective. We’re too close to the rocking and rolling and hanging on right now to think about it much.

Cliff, you’re “good luck fishing in the Southern Hemisphere” statement worked! The Mahi we caught yesterday broke a string of very mediocre fishing. I looked at the pictures today, and the fish was more like 4 feet long than the three feet I reported last night. Definitely a good size fish. I’ve got two big fillets marinating right now in soy, wasabi, ginger sauce. Can’t wait. Fresh fish!

Today’s been a nice windy day. Around 20 knots and 8-12 foot seas are moving us along pretty well. Last night was lots of beautiful stars for my watch. However, Ann got the squally early morning watch (0700-1100) and saw several where she had to reduce sail and close the hatches due to wind and rain. We’ve been working on her sail handling and she now can furl the jib without waking me. She really knows her way around the boat now. She does the Shortwave net call, and has her own net of friends for another social call around 1700 every day, knows the VHF, works the radar, works the GPS, can set the wind vane and adjust it as needed to change course and now can furl the jib and catch fish. Pretty soon if I’m not careful she won’t need me to run the boat and I’ll be demoted to swabbing the decks and gutting the fish. Hey….wait a minute. That’s what I did yesterday! It’s starting to happen!

Just wanted to add that the second squall included a full rainbow arching across the horizon – clearly showing us the way to Hiva Oa!!!