Ok it’s, uh, pretty and all. Really, really pretty but what do you DO there?
Well all throughout the village and along the islands are coconut crabs. Which are crabs. That eat coconut. They also live in little burrowed holes in the beach sand and the islanders are good at catching them for supper.
If catching your next meal gets old and/or frustrating (fast little buggers) you can always go for a swim. Remember how I said Kauehi had clear water? Yeah, and lagoons are breeding grounds for everything from tropical fish to coral to the most colorful clams I have ever seen.
If the lagoon gets old, you can wander down the road (“the” as in singular. As in the only one on the island) to the other beach. It’s not like it’s a long walk.
Since the island is an atoll surrounding a lagoon, it has beaches on both sides. The “inside” beach has sand but no waves. The outside beaches, which face out to the ocean, would be really great for surfing or boogie boarding except for one tiny detail.
**20100510A – archive – Kahuei beach**
Allan is really excited because he has dragged his board, sails and gear all the way from California in order to go windsurfing in the Tuamotu. The barrier reef islands provide a good shelter from the ocean waves but are also low enough to the water to allow the wind to blow full force over the lagoons. Big wind but no large waves creates an ideal windsurfing environment.
I know I said this before back in Mexico but it bears repeating. Allan loaded all of this gear onto his sailboat. He then proceeded to sail his boat from California to the middle of the South Pacific. We have been sailing for months now to get here. So we sail here, on a sailboat, using the wind to sail our sailboat to this lagoon and the thing Allan wants to do here? After all that? He wants to go sailing on a smaller sailboat…
…really?
He insists it’s different. It goes faster or something. Me, I know addiction when I see it.
There is a waterfall lagoon in the center of this island (Nuku Hiva) that is known for it crystal clear waters and abnormally large eels. Naturally, everyone thought it would be a good idea if we went swimming with them. Apparently this is what one does at Daniel’s bay. Hike for two hours, eat lunch, toss some baguette to the eels the size of my arm (literally) to draw them out, then go swimming with them. Good times. Oh and yes, eels have teeth. So after leapfrogging over rivers, sauntering through canyons hundreds of feet deep, climbing through ancient Polynesian ruins and scaling some fairly large boulders…
You know what? Describing natural perfection week after week is hard. Here’s what we saw; you should watch it:
The eels were smart. They grabbed the baguette, saw kids and got right back under those rocks before anyone got in the water.
Like I said above we also saw some ancient ruins and genuine historic tikis. Much like the mangoes, these people have their history just scattered about them. However, unlike mangoes, their history is not overly abundant. Due to lack of funding & personnel, much of these ancient ruins are simply left.
Also the flowers. I mean, wow, the flowers are everywhere.
Overall a great hike and yet another example of the fantastic beauty these islands have to offer. This is the end of the Marquesas for us and we are off to the Tuamotu island chain. We’re leaving behind our “Buddy Boat”, PROXIMITY, here at Nuku Hiva. There are so many islands out here, which is shocking to me because my perception of the South Pacific was “ya know…there’s Hawaii, Tahiti, Guam, Bora Bora…and a couple more. Ok, so here’s some numbers for you:
There are tens of thousands (yes, that’s plural) of islands in the Pacific Ocean. In the South Pacific there are 3 “regions” of islands, of which Polynesia is one. The Polynesian region is about the size of Canada & the US combined. It’s big. The other regions are also lacking smallness (kind of a theme out here). French Polynesia is one of the larger countries in Polynesia and is about the size of the continent of Europe (yes, the continent). In French Polynesia, there are 141 islands and they give you 3 months before they kick you out, unless you’re European, then you can stay way longer (thanks France… :P) I know 90 days sounds like a lot, but really, it isn’t for so much space…and this is probably the first, last and only time you’ll ever get out here. So this is your one shot to have an amazing life experience. Here’s the dilemma: You want to stay and meet people and make friends and have awesome cultural experiences. You also don’t want to miss any of the other cool stuff on the other 140 islands in this country…and let us not forget that our boat needs to be through the entire area in 90 days or less. Important to remember those boats are slow and a couple of hundred miles between each island does make a significant difference. You should also add in about a week or two for boat repairs, supplying, customs, etc. What we’ve done so far has used up about 20 days. It goes fast.
Everyone has a different way of dealing with this. There is no way you’re going to be able to explore every island in 90 days so ultimately, you have to pick and choose. How much time do you want to spend finding the out of the way more remote islands like Fatu Hiva vs. enjoying the people and culture of more developed main islands like Nuku Hiva? Ok, and by “main island” remember I am talking about 2200 people on this entire island. So a tiny US farm town population…it’s isn’t exactly crowded. For the really adventurous, the Gambier island chain is a few hundred miles south and while it’ll eat a ton of time and there aren’t a lot of people there, you get a see a grand cathedral made entirely of coral, by hand (crazy priest, thousands of locals die in the construction, it’s a long story.)
Everyone says they want “off the beaten track” but we’re basically doing that by being here. So how far off do you want to go?
Rod & Elizabeth from PROXIMITY are staying in Nuku Hiva to enjoy the culture of the Marquesas and make some friends. Rod helped me learn the ukulele and they are both a lot of fun. We will miss them and hope to see them down the line. They expect to hit maybe one island in the Tuamotus before heading to Tahiti. As for us, we want to see some of these coral reefs floating out in the middle of the ocean, so we’re heading out.
I know, we have to “rush” though French Polynesia because we only have 3 months living here. It’s a heavy cross, but I bear what I can 😉
Tahuata was going to be a quick, overnight anchorage on the way from Fatu Hiva to Ua Pou (all still in the Marquesa group of French Polynesia). Hardly worth noticing, probably about a sentence or two in the next blog post. We pulled into the first anchorage and set down for the night not expecting the quiet little island a stone’s throw from Hiva Oa to have much for us in the way of lasting memories.
…and then we woke up early the next morning to go swimming with the wild dolphins who had just popped by to say hi and handle some business.
That little comment by Tiffany at the end make you feel a bit voyeuristic? Imagine being 15 feet from them and watching. I was serious about them handling some business.
Now I apologize. Dolphins are faster and more maneuverable than me in the water and I’m still getting used to the whole “filming rapidly moving objects in the water while bobbing like a cork on the surface and unable to see my display screen because it’s in a waterproof bag” thing. I will endeavor to improve. Please bear with me.
So after what was agreed on by all to be a most auspicious start to our day we thought it could not possibly get any better, but you’d think after our first shocker we’d stop underestimating this little island of nirvana-like joy.
We sallied forth onto land and found the picture perfect village of Hapatoni. The whole island’s population is around 650 and this is the tiny village next to the big town, so I do mean small.
You may have noticed during that video that there was a streetlight above the street Tiffany and I were on. This may lead you to the question, “Gosh Greg, how do they have power out there?” Tiffany and I were curious so we took a look around and found the island (or at least the village’s) main and only power plant.
We also saw a really nice little local church. Did I mention that French Polynesia is by overwhelming majority Catholic? They have a couple of assorted Protestant churches and, interestingly enough, one island that is predominantly Mormon. Ha ha! Yes, I learned French, I play the ukulele and I’m Catholic. I’m almost a local!
(Continued from previous post… Fatu Hiva, French Polynesia)
Secondly, speaking of local kids, getting humiliated by the locals in an afternoon volleyball game. I feel no need to elaborate on this point. They play this every day. Some of the women also do what appears to be Jazzercise, so how’s that for Americanization?
Thirdly, hiking. Fatu Hiva is an amazingly beautiful place, though it is not without it’s dangerous predators
Assuming you have the wit and the skill to overcome these dangerous jungle creatures (oh yeah, and the heat – bring water, a lot of water) then you are in for a visual smorgasbord. With sights that easily rival Ireland in lush greenness, a 2 hour hike through to the waterfall in Fatu Hiva does not disappoint.
Not to mention, you can take your lunch with you and picnic at your own private 100 foot waterfall. This is merely a bonus. (We didn’t go swimming because not only had we heard about the eels and the crawfish living in the water, there was some sort of scummy foam on the top of the pond. Bummer 🙁 ~Tiff)
As Tiffany mentioned at the end of the video and as you might surmise about the topography of an island formed by a volcano, this place is steep. We found out how steep when we decided the next day, without any idea what the heck we were signing up for, to hike to the top of one of the mountains. We also found out why all the travel guide books say that only 4×4 vehicles are allowed in the Marquesas.
There were no flat parts, by the way. After crawling up this mammoth for 3 hours and gaining a new appreciation for the Fatu Hiva roadwork department, we finally got to a pinnacle that provided the views we were looking for:
After what could easily be qualified as a “bumpy” night transit south, against the wind and the waves we find ourselves on the island of Fatu Hiva in French Polynesia. (For our non-sailing friends, it’s called “bashing” when you drive into the wind & waves. It sucks. A lot. This single fact alone actually explains why the entire international cruising community constantly sails to the west; in order to avoid bashing as much as humanly possible.)
We anchored in the Bay of Penises. Now wait one second. Before you get all uppity on me, look, don’t blame me that the Polynesian people came up with overly descriptive names for things, because that’s the freaking original Polynesian name, alright (well, the English translation at least). It’s due to the rock towers that surround the bay. I’m serious, look it up. (Tiff’s note – the name of the town is Hana Vave in Fatu Hiva) For those of you too lazy to look it up, I explain the whole issue (inserting my own obvious bias and providing nice views of the anchorage, but not of the male reproductive system) here:
Having arrived at what arguably could be the most amazingly named place on the entire planet, we spent our two days here:
Firstly, by exploring the village. Being as the total island inhabitants number at about 650 split between two villages, this took about a grand total of 15 minutes. We did however discover some precious little tidbits. Such as, everyone eats coconuts here and I mean everyone.
Also, speaking of chickens and coconuts, you may want to think twice before you buy that “all natural” tropical coconut meat or coconut oil in the grocery store.
Polynesians do have cats and dogs…lots of cats and dogs, but they also keep other interesting animals on leashes.
We also ran into an interesting event going on as we arrived: all the school aged children were leaving. Because of the minimal population, there are only grade schools on the island. Anyone wanting a high school education has to travel by ferry 10 hours or so to Hiva Oa. The nearest college is in Tahiti (again, about 2000 miles away.) So kids who want an education spend a lot of time away from home from the 8th grade on.
Despite our best fishing efforts, pickings continue to be rather slim
(If you watched that…I apologize. My only defense is that when you’re this long out to sea some things seem funnier than they are.)
We did manage to hook a deepwater fish. Before parting the strongest line we had onboard, our finned friend hung around long enough to make sure I received an extensive education why I need to keep my big mouth shut when I think about talking smack about a sport I know nothing about.
What’s on the dinner menu for Greg? Looks like a double portion of humble pie.
To pile on the humiliation, it appears that my role as a B-movie sci-fi horror flick victim was prophetic in nature. Either that or the booby birds have enlisted the help of their fellow sea creatures. Either way, the ship’s cockpit is becoming a nightly target for the beasts of the sea.
In that video I mention the term ITCZ. This is sailor slang for Inter-Tropical Convergence Zone. Basically it’s this place where all the horrible weather from the northern hemisphere has gigantoid WWE style thrown downs with all the horrible weather from the southern hemisphere. If you take Michael Jackson’s music video “beat-it” replace the street thugs with rain squalls and take out the really cool dancing and hit music single, you have a good idea what it’s like.
Despite seemingly every creature of the briny deep, with the notable exception of an actual edible fish, deciding to make our ship their vacation home, morale remains high. Just a few days ago we took solace in the stoic example of Captain James T. Kirk as we conducted another installment of our mandatory ships training regimen.
Even though we have not seen dry land for weeks, we remain confident God has not flooded you all out of house and home.
That’s a Bible reference yo. Noah, from that first book. Told you I was listening to it.
Tiff thought we would start out by giving you some perspective on what we see all day, every day. (PS- don’t watch this video if you are prone to seasickness.)
[Tiff thinks this one is better 🙂 It’s kinda long though, I was having editing issues.]
My daily schedule basically looks like:
Noon – wake up, shave, brush teeth
12:30PM – eat lunch, do dishes
1:30PM – personal projects (like sewing zippers in my pants pockets, doing laundry, showering.)
3:00PM – Stand 4 hour watch
7:00PM – Get off watch, eat dinner
8:00PM – Do dishes
8:30PM – wrap up personal projects, putz around
9:00PM – Practice ukulele
9:30PM – Practice French (usually involves me making spitting sounds at my computer)
11:00PM – Pre-watch nap
12:45AM – wake up, stand 3 hour watch. Listen to Bible on audio book.
2:30AM – midnight snack time! More Bible on audio
4:00AM – Get off watch, go to bed
Aside from occasional interruptions for critical ships business
… and pods of dolphins using our bow as a jungle gym
Our days are much the same. This would drive some people mad, but I love the relentless progress I make daily toward mastering my ninja-like French-Bible-quoting-while-playing-Beethoven-on-ukulele skillz.
But heck, I sleep until noon every day, so they could all be learning kung-fu and naked tribal dancing in the morning for all I know.
Our last communication ended with our loyal crew recovering from a blitzkrieg-style home invasion from the booby birds.
Tiffany, Allan and I quickly devised a counter-strike offensive. Luckily, between Tiff’s years of nautical experience, Allan’s fighter-jock skills (no, really – F-16s!…these birds seriously picked the wrong boat to mess with…) and my supremeknowledge of the multiple uses of sailing line we routed the enemy and chased him squawking into the night.
With the main thrust of their attacked repelled, their forces routed and in shambles, the enemy made a final, desperate play for a beachhead on our extremely delicate solar panels, which our reserve forces quickly repelled.
Unfortunately they kept coming back, growing so bold as to land on the boat hook as we attempted to poke them with it! Eventually, with both sides weary from literally hours of intense non-stop action, our side proposed a truce: One bird on the dingy, as long as no one poops. Of course he defecated easily twice his own body weight onto our small boat and at first light his fellow bombers attempted to join him, so we rejoined the battle this time determined to offer no quarter…
Though we survived the brutal hand-to-halyard combat of that night, our boat still carries the scars of the battle …
… and, as you can see from that video, we must remain constantly vigilant for skirmisher forces lying in wait to catch us unawares. For we are alone, cut off from other allied units, hundreds of miles from shore and should our efforts fail, we would be overtaken before help could arrive. There is no truce, no peace. That is the lesson the “night of the attack of the boobies” taught us. A lesson we pass to you, my friends, from the front lines. Pray for us as we battle on…
Ladies and gentlemen, today I am here to talk to you about the perils of boobies. (no, we are not about to talk about pre-marital sex here. It’s the name of a bird dude. As in blue-footed boobies (or orange-footed, whatever)).
Don’t let the cuteness fool you. These little warm weather aviary ambassadors of the devil himself have been with us since our departure. My friends, as the crewmember with the most seaborne combat experience (hey, I am a trained boarding officer) I have led our valiant efforts to repel these determined air pirates for several days now. Though our first attempts were admittedly crude and pathetically unsuccessful.
We only suffered a minimum of self-inflicted casualties …
… and have recently upgraded our techniques. The scales of victory slowly tipped in our direction and our safe voyage appeared assured…until the enemy, under the cover of darkness, marshaled their forces and without warning staged their own personal Tet Offensive…
The enemy struck without warning, on all fronts and we were initially clearly overwhelmed. Pressing the advantage one of our foes grew so brave as to land in our cockpit and make a dive for the hatch below decks! Allan had to literally tackle this squawking, flapping Captain Jack Sparrow-wanna-be with a rug while Alison pelted them both with a fruit basket (more friendly fire) and cast the beast from our vessel into the murky darkness. (sorry, no video on that one, happened a little too fast.)
The battle rages on…
– Greg
(On another booby note, we ran into someone with a t-shirt that said “I love boobies” and a cartoon of 2 little blue booby feet on it 🙂 – Tiff)
Though the great indoors has its fair share of wildlife, the great out of doors in La Cruz is also not to be missed.
One of the greatest things about having your own means of water transportation (or at least the ability to hop on someone else’s) is the freedom to go whale watching! La Cruz de Huanacaxtle, the Mexican town we’ve been spending so much time in, is on the Banderas Bay (along with Puerto Vallarta). The Banderas Bay is one of the places Humpback Whales like to hang out during the late winter/early spring. It’s interesting – seeing a whale from a Coast Guard cutter elicits an entirely different response than seeing one from a sailboat. In the Coast Guard we almost hated whales, because we had to call the Captain, stop our engines and wait for them to get themselves sorted so we didn’t run them over. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t want to hit a whale with a 210 foot ship, but man were they frustrating – when you’re a junior officer you never want to have to call the Captain! Being on a sailboat is way less stressful and you just get to enjoy the wonder of seeing these amazing animals.
Oh, and here’s Greg first experience fishing with a net:
(I would like to point out that I have caught several fish at this point, albeit not with this particular method. Also, did anyone else catch Tiffany’s comment about no one driving the boat!? – Greg)
And just when you thought it was safe to eat calamari, think about this:
We’re still doing swimmingly out here in the wild! How’s life in civilization?
