After 9 weeks of rolling passages and swell-wracked anchorages, it feels like we are anchored in a palm fringed lake. And what a lovely feeling that is! Only the most gentle lapping of wavelets and caressing our hull to tell us we are on water.
We saw our first atoll around supper time two days ago. Barely visible at 10 miles, a blur of stubble on the horizon, like a 13 year old boy's moustache. Tikei proved to be a-typical of the atolls we will be visiting, for it was very small (3 kms long) with no lagoon and quite heavily forested in palms. We had altered course to visit this atoll so that we should not arrive too early the next morning at our destination of Kauehi. It felt strange to rein in Ladybug, but the consistent stronger winds (15-20 knots) gave us daily runs of over 130 nautical miles and our best day's run yet of well over 150. This meant we would arrive near midnight at the pass into Kauehi unless we reduced sail.
Before the advent of GPS and radar, the Tuammotus were less visited by yachtsmen. We were very thankful to have good electronic charts as well as a working GPS, and radar, for approaching these low lying islands on a night when there is no moon would be dangerous without an awareness of one's exact position. Our friends on 'Chapter Two' had arrived earlier and heaved to off the north end of he atoll. They reported that a current of about one knot from the south east had set them to the west of the island in the night. Currents and invisible coral reefs make for little sleep. However the charts here are very accurate and on the radar Kauehi and Raraka atoll to the south showed up as thin crescents when we were still about 10 miles off. We sailed through the wide pass between these atolls until about 6:30 when we turned our bows toward Kauehi.
'Chapter Two' led the way into the pass around 10 am. Mike and Karen had bought their boat in the Caribbean and had spent a couple of years cruising in areas of coral. We were grateful to have them lead the way on our first foray into coral infested waters. A tide was still ebbing quite strongly, but we decided not to wait for slack. We saw about 3 knots against us with a few overfalls, but no standing waves. We motored against this and across the lagoon toward an anchorage 7 miles distant that we had learned of in the "Tuamotus Compendium" - an online guide compiled by sailors who have recently visited these isles. Coral can rise instantly from 100 feet, so while Rani steered, I climbed up the rat lines to get a better view down into the water.
We had our first view of an isolated coral patch about half way across the lagoon. Disturbed water - white and frothy - and then an area of light green with a brown patch in the middle. All of this in nearby depths of 80 to 100 feet. We saw one more coral head, this one buoyed, before reaching our anchorage off a large 'motu' or island lying within the lagoon. The waves died down as we approached its palm lined shores, dropping our anchor in about 40 feet over sand. We are anchored at 15 56 S 145 03 W
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Monday, May 21, 2012
Maggie Goes To Sea
This is a true story of an innocent little stow-away - told in her own words...
My name is Maggie - at least that is what my brothers and sisters call me, for I have never known my parents. I grew up in the warm tropical jungle of Nuku Hiva in a small but cozy lemon-coloured home. My life was idyllic - plenty to eat, no school work, and lots of little friends to play with. At night the gentle breezes would rock us to sleep. Sometimes I felt there must be more to life than eating, playing, and sleeping, but none of my playmates seemed to worry about such things.
One day there was terrific tremor that shook our house from top to bottom. We all snuggled together in our soft squishy bed. It was a long time before things stopped moving. I noticed after this that our home did not rock us to sleep. Maybe something had broken? Life continued - eat, play, sleep.
Later, we felt another tremor and many aftershocks. It was as if our home was moving of it's own accord, like a living creature. The light dimmed and our home tilted at a crazy angle. We adjusted our bed to the new angle and tried to get used to the motion, but many of my brothers and sisters were ill.
This morning, a final tremor shook our home and the roof came right off. A bright light shone in and I saw a huge creature standing over me. In a panic, I climbed along a wall and saying good by to my brothers and sisters, curled myself into a ball and leapt clear.
As I spiralled through the air I heard the creature yell - "Ewwww, a Maggot!" and barely had time to yell back - "No - My name is Maggie" - before I hit the ground. I saw the creature reach down apparently trying to find me, so I moved quickly and hid myself in a crack.
I miss my family and my home and wonder where my next meal will come from, but I am excited by all the possibilities of this new world.
My name is Maggie - at least that is what my brothers and sisters call me, for I have never known my parents. I grew up in the warm tropical jungle of Nuku Hiva in a small but cozy lemon-coloured home. My life was idyllic - plenty to eat, no school work, and lots of little friends to play with. At night the gentle breezes would rock us to sleep. Sometimes I felt there must be more to life than eating, playing, and sleeping, but none of my playmates seemed to worry about such things.
One day there was terrific tremor that shook our house from top to bottom. We all snuggled together in our soft squishy bed. It was a long time before things stopped moving. I noticed after this that our home did not rock us to sleep. Maybe something had broken? Life continued - eat, play, sleep.
Later, we felt another tremor and many aftershocks. It was as if our home was moving of it's own accord, like a living creature. The light dimmed and our home tilted at a crazy angle. We adjusted our bed to the new angle and tried to get used to the motion, but many of my brothers and sisters were ill.
This morning, a final tremor shook our home and the roof came right off. A bright light shone in and I saw a huge creature standing over me. In a panic, I climbed along a wall and saying good by to my brothers and sisters, curled myself into a ball and leapt clear.
As I spiralled through the air I heard the creature yell - "Ewwww, a Maggot!" and barely had time to yell back - "No - My name is Maggie" - before I hit the ground. I saw the creature reach down apparently trying to find me, so I moved quickly and hid myself in a crack.
I miss my family and my home and wonder where my next meal will come from, but I am excited by all the possibilities of this new world.
An embarassment of bananas
Yes - we have bananas. Just before leaving Uo Pou, we bought a stalk of bananas that was delivered to us in the back of a pickup by Norbert, the carver, along with the carved paddle Rani had selected earlier in the day. The stalk (or regime as it is called en Francais) arrived split into bunches, which completely filled two cardboard boxes, both of which were as heavy as I could comfortably lift. We felt like smugglers as we loaded the boxes off a rock breakwater into our tippy dinghy, in the dark. Rowing across the harbour, we tapped on Chapter Two's hull and transferred a box to their deck. The remainder we brought on board Ladybug in bunches, hanging some outside on the stern rail and washing others to stow below.
We have learned that heat, light, and salt water all conspire to ripen a banana. Some we placed in hammocks, which we made up from fish netting purchased in Mexico. We covered these with cloth hoping to delay their ripening. Others we placed in the long term veggie storage area - dark and hopefully cool. Unlike Mike & Karen on Chapter Two, our fridge is too small to make this a viable option. Rani estimated the number of bananas on the stalk at about 170 - quite a haul for $10 - but a problem if they ripen at once. What to do...
We could bake banana bread and muffins every day, but this would heat up the already toasty boat and would use lots of butane. We had tried dried bananas in Atuona and seen them for sale in some of the stores, so this seemed like a better solution.
We saw banana drying racks on Ua Pou - plastic covered frames with screened sides - and would like to make a smaller version for the boat. For now, however we are using broiling trays with slotted bottoms that allow air flow. Placing the trays on a rolling sea-swept boat can be tricky and only in harbour have we been able to put the trays in full sun on the deck. Under way we place them under the dodger where they are kept mostly dry and get slightly filtered sunlight. We were told it takes 3 or 4 days for the drying process and this has been our experience with our first batch, which we have just finished drying. They taste like candy!
It would be fun to try drying pineapple or mango and we may try this when we find some of these fruit in quantity.
We have learned that heat, light, and salt water all conspire to ripen a banana. Some we placed in hammocks, which we made up from fish netting purchased in Mexico. We covered these with cloth hoping to delay their ripening. Others we placed in the long term veggie storage area - dark and hopefully cool. Unlike Mike & Karen on Chapter Two, our fridge is too small to make this a viable option. Rani estimated the number of bananas on the stalk at about 170 - quite a haul for $10 - but a problem if they ripen at once. What to do...
We could bake banana bread and muffins every day, but this would heat up the already toasty boat and would use lots of butane. We had tried dried bananas in Atuona and seen them for sale in some of the stores, so this seemed like a better solution.
We saw banana drying racks on Ua Pou - plastic covered frames with screened sides - and would like to make a smaller version for the boat. For now, however we are using broiling trays with slotted bottoms that allow air flow. Placing the trays on a rolling sea-swept boat can be tricky and only in harbour have we been able to put the trays in full sun on the deck. Under way we place them under the dodger where they are kept mostly dry and get slightly filtered sunlight. We were told it takes 3 or 4 days for the drying process and this has been our experience with our first batch, which we have just finished drying. They taste like candy!
It would be fun to try drying pineapple or mango and we may try this when we find some of these fruit in quantity.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Recent Books
We have been reading a few books that are relevant to our south sea travels and thought it might be useful to someone if we shared our thoughts.
Cruising guides consulted so far:
"Exploring the Marquesas Islands" by Joe Russell - This paperback volume covers the main anchorages for all the islands and a few less visited ones. We like he sketch charts for each harbour and his walking tours as well as the local knowledge imparted. The book is a bit dated unfortunately, as it was published in 2000, so some things have changed, including, for example the location of the main anchorage for yachts in Taiohae, Nuku Hiva.
"Guide to Navigation and Tourism in French Polynesia" by Bonnette and Deschamps. Another paperback volume, this one quite thick with nice colour photos. It covers the Australs, Gambier Islands, Marquesas, Society Islands and Tuamotus at a reasonable level of detail. It is translated from French and not always well in some places. The mini charts could be better and way points are not included for approaches, passes, or anchorages. The information is also a bit out of date.
Nature guides:
"Collins Guide to Tropical Plants" by Lotschert and Beese. We have used the excellent photos in this book to identify edible and medicinal fruit and plants. Has good detail on common plants - their appearance, locations where they are found, how they spread through the tropics, and what they are used for.
"The Pacific Islands" by Douglas L. Oliver. This is an excellent paperback book for those interested in the geology, geography, economics, history and ethnology of the many island groups in the South Pacific. I found it easier to read than many books written with such lofty aspirations.
"A Naturalist's Guide to the Tropics" by Marco Lambertini. I have not read this yet, but it is nicely illustrated (with colour photos and drawings) and runs the gamut from geology and soil through animals, fish, and plants. It covers the tropics around the world.
Travel writing/Fiction:
Typee and Omoo by Herman Melville - These are accounts, somewhat dressed up, of the authour's experiences in French Polynesia, the first one being of his stay with cannibals at Typee valley on Nuku Hiva. We enjoyed the description of everyday tribal life and the Polynesian culture. The second continues where the first left off and describes life on board a whaler and in Tahiti, where the author was imprisoned. I found the writing surprisingly modern, sympathetic to the natives, and humorous. We have these as e-books downloaded from Project Gutenberg.
"Mystic Isles of the South Seas" by Frederic O'Brien - An account of the authour's stay in Tahiti shortly after the first world war. This and two other books that cover O'Brien's travels in the Marquesas and the Tuamotus are great reads. The authour predicts the impending extinction of the Polynesians, which at the time he was writing seemed inevitable due to catastrophic population decline. O'Brien digs deeper into the cultures he visits on his travels than most travel writers and I thoroughly enjoyed his descriptions of the places he visited and people he got to know. Very critical of the missionaries, traders, and most colonizers, he is sympathetic to the plight of the Polynesians. These books, too, can be obtained as e-books from Project Gutenberg.
Cruising guides consulted so far:
"Exploring the Marquesas Islands" by Joe Russell - This paperback volume covers the main anchorages for all the islands and a few less visited ones. We like he sketch charts for each harbour and his walking tours as well as the local knowledge imparted. The book is a bit dated unfortunately, as it was published in 2000, so some things have changed, including, for example the location of the main anchorage for yachts in Taiohae, Nuku Hiva.
"Guide to Navigation and Tourism in French Polynesia" by Bonnette and Deschamps. Another paperback volume, this one quite thick with nice colour photos. It covers the Australs, Gambier Islands, Marquesas, Society Islands and Tuamotus at a reasonable level of detail. It is translated from French and not always well in some places. The mini charts could be better and way points are not included for approaches, passes, or anchorages. The information is also a bit out of date.
Nature guides:
"Collins Guide to Tropical Plants" by Lotschert and Beese. We have used the excellent photos in this book to identify edible and medicinal fruit and plants. Has good detail on common plants - their appearance, locations where they are found, how they spread through the tropics, and what they are used for.
"The Pacific Islands" by Douglas L. Oliver. This is an excellent paperback book for those interested in the geology, geography, economics, history and ethnology of the many island groups in the South Pacific. I found it easier to read than many books written with such lofty aspirations.
"A Naturalist's Guide to the Tropics" by Marco Lambertini. I have not read this yet, but it is nicely illustrated (with colour photos and drawings) and runs the gamut from geology and soil through animals, fish, and plants. It covers the tropics around the world.
Travel writing/Fiction:
Typee and Omoo by Herman Melville - These are accounts, somewhat dressed up, of the authour's experiences in French Polynesia, the first one being of his stay with cannibals at Typee valley on Nuku Hiva. We enjoyed the description of everyday tribal life and the Polynesian culture. The second continues where the first left off and describes life on board a whaler and in Tahiti, where the author was imprisoned. I found the writing surprisingly modern, sympathetic to the natives, and humorous. We have these as e-books downloaded from Project Gutenberg.
"Mystic Isles of the South Seas" by Frederic O'Brien - An account of the authour's stay in Tahiti shortly after the first world war. This and two other books that cover O'Brien's travels in the Marquesas and the Tuamotus are great reads. The authour predicts the impending extinction of the Polynesians, which at the time he was writing seemed inevitable due to catastrophic population decline. O'Brien digs deeper into the cultures he visits on his travels than most travel writers and I thoroughly enjoyed his descriptions of the places he visited and people he got to know. Very critical of the missionaries, traders, and most colonizers, he is sympathetic to the plight of the Polynesians. These books, too, can be obtained as e-books from Project Gutenberg.
Saturday, May 19, 2012
5 am - How not to deal with a squall
We hot bunk these days and when I come off watch, I switch places with Rani, lying on the settee berth while she takes the quarter berth beside the instruments and companionway. I had not been long asleep when I awoke because the boat was moving differently. Rani told me that we were hitting 9 knots at times, so I hurried on deck in time to see a huge black mass almost on top of us. Rani had not noticed the squalls because most of the horizon was black with them and it was difficult to tell them from the few patches of lighter sky at 5 am.
I told Rani to slack the jib sheets and tried to furl the jib, but it would not come in. I had forgotten the lashing holding the drum together, which was now jammed around the partially furled drum. I went forward to clear this as the wind began to howl and spray from the rearing bow showered down upon me. Coming back I furled the jib, but the sheets were now flying and they wrapped around the sail as we brought it in. What a snarl!
The sail was flogging in the wind and I thought it would come apart. Forward I went again and asked Rani to join me to untangle the sheets so we could release and refurl the jib. It was far from easy to stay calm with the sail snapping just over our heads, but we soon had the lines free. I decided to drop the jib altogether because it would have been very difficult to furl now with the sheets flying loose. We brought it down without dumping it in the sea and soon had it lashed to the deck. Despite the flogging there appeared to be no damage to cloth or stitching - a testimony to the quality of the 25+ year old sail.
We continued to run under main alone before the squall and were lucky that it did not last long. Three more squalls came through after this one, one with winds of at least 35 knots and lashing rain. As the day dawned, I re-fed the furler line and cleaned up the grease that had decorated it when the drum had separated. In a gap between squalls we ran off downwind and I fed the jib into the furler foil as Rani hoisted. We threw a second reef in the main and unfurled 70 percent of the jib and Ladybug settled into the groove again. We have sailed most of today with this configuration in winds of 15 to 20 knots and short period steep seas.
we later heard that another boat nearby had not been as lucky as us and had a similar jam with their furler during which their genoa ripped.
Our position at 9 pm is S 11 39 W 141 50 and we are bucking along at 6 to 7 knots broad reaching in about 20 knots of wind. We are about 315 miles away from Kauehi atoll.
I told Rani to slack the jib sheets and tried to furl the jib, but it would not come in. I had forgotten the lashing holding the drum together, which was now jammed around the partially furled drum. I went forward to clear this as the wind began to howl and spray from the rearing bow showered down upon me. Coming back I furled the jib, but the sheets were now flying and they wrapped around the sail as we brought it in. What a snarl!
The sail was flogging in the wind and I thought it would come apart. Forward I went again and asked Rani to join me to untangle the sheets so we could release and refurl the jib. It was far from easy to stay calm with the sail snapping just over our heads, but we soon had the lines free. I decided to drop the jib altogether because it would have been very difficult to furl now with the sheets flying loose. We brought it down without dumping it in the sea and soon had it lashed to the deck. Despite the flogging there appeared to be no damage to cloth or stitching - a testimony to the quality of the 25+ year old sail.
We continued to run under main alone before the squall and were lucky that it did not last long. Three more squalls came through after this one, one with winds of at least 35 knots and lashing rain. As the day dawned, I re-fed the furler line and cleaned up the grease that had decorated it when the drum had separated. In a gap between squalls we ran off downwind and I fed the jib into the furler foil as Rani hoisted. We threw a second reef in the main and unfurled 70 percent of the jib and Ladybug settled into the groove again. We have sailed most of today with this configuration in winds of 15 to 20 knots and short period steep seas.
we later heard that another boat nearby had not been as lucky as us and had a similar jam with their furler during which their genoa ripped.
Our position at 9 pm is S 11 39 W 141 50 and we are bucking along at 6 to 7 knots broad reaching in about 20 knots of wind. We are about 315 miles away from Kauehi atoll.
A Midnight Squall
It is 1:30 am and Ladybug is rolling in the aftermath of a squall - confused seas and little wind to steady the sails. I began my watch at midnight and noted that the wind was lighter than when I had gone off watch three hours before. On deck a rising darkness on the eastern horizon blotted out the stars. Going below, I turned on the radar to see if this could be a rain squall. Sure enough, a blob, 3 kms wide and about 6 kms away was visible, bearing down on us at about 12 knots.
Trying not to wake up Rani, I moved the companionway hatch board into the cockpit, ready to deploy when the rain reached us. I closed the hatches we had cracked for ventilation (it is 30 degrees and 70 percent humidity, making sleep difficult).
When the radar showed the squall to be about 3 kms away, the wind freshened and I woke Rani to let her know there was a squall approaching and that I was going forward to prepare for furling the jib. Ever since the roller furler bearings failed, I have had to lash the furler drum together to prevent it coming apart when the wind increases. I removed this lashing so that I could furl the jib, returned to the cockpit, and rolled the sail up. We were now running with only the main - single-reefed.
The squall was moving faster than us and most of it passed in front of Ladybug - a great ragged cloud of light on the radar and darkness as viewed against the stars. Light rain accompanied winds of 20 knots and the hatch board was needed for only 5 minutes. The deck was wet as I went forward again to lash down the furler drum after unrolling the jib. We were on our way again.
We are bound for Kauehi - an atoll in the Tuamotus about 430 miles from our current position. I am excited about seeing my first coral atoll and snorkeling in the crystal clear waters of the lagoon and pass. We spoke on the SSB radio today with Mark on 'Southern Cross' who has been in the Tuamotus for a couple of weeks. He told us that the weather was cooler with lower humidity than the Marquesas, which will be a welcome change. He also let us know that the visibility in the water has been 80 to 90 feet! Nothing comes without a price and the negatives of visiting these atolls include currents, tricky entrances into the lagoons, and navigating amongst coral heads, which can rise out of very deep water and are usually not well charted.
Our position is S 10 12 W 140 34. Winds from the east between 6 & 15 knots, boat speed averaging 5-6 knots.
Trying not to wake up Rani, I moved the companionway hatch board into the cockpit, ready to deploy when the rain reached us. I closed the hatches we had cracked for ventilation (it is 30 degrees and 70 percent humidity, making sleep difficult).
When the radar showed the squall to be about 3 kms away, the wind freshened and I woke Rani to let her know there was a squall approaching and that I was going forward to prepare for furling the jib. Ever since the roller furler bearings failed, I have had to lash the furler drum together to prevent it coming apart when the wind increases. I removed this lashing so that I could furl the jib, returned to the cockpit, and rolled the sail up. We were now running with only the main - single-reefed.
The squall was moving faster than us and most of it passed in front of Ladybug - a great ragged cloud of light on the radar and darkness as viewed against the stars. Light rain accompanied winds of 20 knots and the hatch board was needed for only 5 minutes. The deck was wet as I went forward again to lash down the furler drum after unrolling the jib. We were on our way again.
We are bound for Kauehi - an atoll in the Tuamotus about 430 miles from our current position. I am excited about seeing my first coral atoll and snorkeling in the crystal clear waters of the lagoon and pass. We spoke on the SSB radio today with Mark on 'Southern Cross' who has been in the Tuamotus for a couple of weeks. He told us that the weather was cooler with lower humidity than the Marquesas, which will be a welcome change. He also let us know that the visibility in the water has been 80 to 90 feet! Nothing comes without a price and the negatives of visiting these atolls include currents, tricky entrances into the lagoons, and navigating amongst coral heads, which can rise out of very deep water and are usually not well charted.
Our position is S 10 12 W 140 34. Winds from the east between 6 & 15 knots, boat speed averaging 5-6 knots.
Friday, May 18, 2012
Ua Pou
We are anchored in Hakahau Bay on Ua Pou island - the 5th and last of the Marquesas Islands that we will visit. The harbour is quite large, but only a small portion is protected from the prevailing swell by a breakwater. We are crowded into this somewhat protected area with 8 other yachts, hailing mostly from France and the UK. We are all anchored bow and stern so we won't bash into each other and so that we face into the swell, which still manages to work its way in here around the breakwater.
The 25 mile crossing from Nuku Hiva was a pleasant sail with 8-12 knots on or just forward of the beam for most of the voyage. We lounged in the cockpit enjoying the ride with one reef in the main and the wind vane steering. However as we approached the harbour, the wind came more and more in front of us and we were set to the west by a current and heavy swell. The last mile was an agonizing motor into heavy swells reflecting off the cliffs at the harbour mouth. I foolishly elected to bring down the main and and the motion while trying to flake and tie the sail down almost threw me from the coach roof.
In the three days we have been here, we have met a few of the local characters including an ex-Australian who has been married to 2 Marquesan wives over the last few decades. Keith can carry on a very effective 'conversation' without the other party even opening their mouth.
We also met Xavier, a retired Frenchman who has lived here for 10 years and swims leisurely around the anchorage chatting with the boaters each day. Finally we chatted with Jerome, whom our friend Randall on Mure had told us about. Jerome - ex French military - runs a pension, offers guided hikes, and serves meals and drinks in his restaurant. The pension commands a fine view of the town and harbour and we enjoyed this view and lovely cold juices while catching up on emails and calls. The mountains behind the anchorage are remarkable for their sudden appearance from relatively low land as well as their steepness and concave shape. They poke out of the nearby hills like spear blades, often shrouded in banners of cloud.
We have been laying in provisions here for our 3-4 weeks in the coral atolls of the Tuomotus, where fruit other than coconuts is rare and veggies non-existent. We have had little success here, despite recent information stating that this town is the best place to provision. Not true anymore I'm afraid. Prices were high for the few veggies we found - $6+ a kilo for tomatoes and $5 for a bunch of green beans. We did find plenty of fruit today and stocked up on the local sweet grapefruit that we found in a school yard as well as citrons (limes) given to us by a friendly Marquesan woman. We also picked a nice breadfruit from a public tree. We have been making breadfruit chips (french fries) from this volleyball sized fruit - frying slices in olive oil and spices.
We also located a stalk of green bananas, which a local carver agreed to drop off at the wharf later in the day. In the meantime he showed us his very creative work - full of traditional Marquesan motifs but with a more imaginative rendition than much of the art we have seen. Rani bought a carved paddle and I have my eyes on a substantial tiki, though where it will fit in the boat - heaven only knows!
We plan to leave for the Tuomotus tomorrow, but this may change if we stay for the dance on Saturday night or I end up buying the tiki, which still needs finishing.
The 25 mile crossing from Nuku Hiva was a pleasant sail with 8-12 knots on or just forward of the beam for most of the voyage. We lounged in the cockpit enjoying the ride with one reef in the main and the wind vane steering. However as we approached the harbour, the wind came more and more in front of us and we were set to the west by a current and heavy swell. The last mile was an agonizing motor into heavy swells reflecting off the cliffs at the harbour mouth. I foolishly elected to bring down the main and and the motion while trying to flake and tie the sail down almost threw me from the coach roof.
In the three days we have been here, we have met a few of the local characters including an ex-Australian who has been married to 2 Marquesan wives over the last few decades. Keith can carry on a very effective 'conversation' without the other party even opening their mouth.
We also met Xavier, a retired Frenchman who has lived here for 10 years and swims leisurely around the anchorage chatting with the boaters each day. Finally we chatted with Jerome, whom our friend Randall on Mure had told us about. Jerome - ex French military - runs a pension, offers guided hikes, and serves meals and drinks in his restaurant. The pension commands a fine view of the town and harbour and we enjoyed this view and lovely cold juices while catching up on emails and calls. The mountains behind the anchorage are remarkable for their sudden appearance from relatively low land as well as their steepness and concave shape. They poke out of the nearby hills like spear blades, often shrouded in banners of cloud.
We have been laying in provisions here for our 3-4 weeks in the coral atolls of the Tuomotus, where fruit other than coconuts is rare and veggies non-existent. We have had little success here, despite recent information stating that this town is the best place to provision. Not true anymore I'm afraid. Prices were high for the few veggies we found - $6+ a kilo for tomatoes and $5 for a bunch of green beans. We did find plenty of fruit today and stocked up on the local sweet grapefruit that we found in a school yard as well as citrons (limes) given to us by a friendly Marquesan woman. We also picked a nice breadfruit from a public tree. We have been making breadfruit chips (french fries) from this volleyball sized fruit - frying slices in olive oil and spices.
We also located a stalk of green bananas, which a local carver agreed to drop off at the wharf later in the day. In the meantime he showed us his very creative work - full of traditional Marquesan motifs but with a more imaginative rendition than much of the art we have seen. Rani bought a carved paddle and I have my eyes on a substantial tiki, though where it will fit in the boat - heaven only knows!
We plan to leave for the Tuomotus tomorrow, but this may change if we stay for the dance on Saturday night or I end up buying the tiki, which still needs finishing.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Garden of Eden, Garden of Death
The valley that runs from Hakaui into the mountains that enclose French Polynesia's tallest waterfall is a veritable paradise - a spring fed river, groves of bananas, coconut palms, and all manner of fruit trees. A well made stone road runs for a kilometer along the river, lined by hedges of colourfully leaved plants.
The people we met in this valley were very friendly. The first house that we came to after fording a two foot deep river sells fruit to the cruisers who come here mostly during the months when cyclones are not a possibility. Two Marquesan men and a woman invited us over and gave us samples of their fruits - they sell bananas by the stalk, breadfruit, star fruit, passion fruit, and papayas. Having not brought money, we chatted with them for a while and then told them we would come back the next day.
The road passed by a few modest homes before plunging into the rain forest, which is aptly named as it rained here for much of our walk. In the forest were the pai pai home sites of the thousands of Marquesans who lived here before they were decimated in the 19th century by the diseases of foreigners. Now only a handful of families lives here with more coming from nearby Taiohae on their vacations.
We crossed the river several times, each time having to wade up toour knees on slippery and sharp stones. After more than an hour of following the muddy trail, we came to a look-out from which the waterfall at the head of the valley could be seen. A French couple was resting there and the woman warned us in broken English against going beyond the point where the valley closes in, due to danger of rock falls made worse by the recent rain. She also told us that the missionaries were responsible for building the trail we had been following and pointed out a side 'hidden valley' in which women, the old, and children were said to have hidden in times of war.
At the bottom of the hill, we reached the point where crumbling thousand foot spires hem in the valley. The trail from this point criss-crosses a turbulent stream several times and, so high and near are the cliffs, that it is difficult to see the sky. During one river crossing, I tried to stay dry shod but slipped while jumping to the last rock and badly knocked a shin, tearing the skin in several places. Any sort of open wound here is a serious matter due to ease of infection, but we decided to press on and clean things up when we returned to Ladybug. At this same crossing, Rani had just finished wading across when we spotted a 3 foot long eel swimming inches from where she had just stepped. A few hundred feet further we found the bag of hard hats that someone has donated to make hiking through the gorge safer. We each donned a hat and proceeded to the pool below the falls.
The pool was muddy with run-off, but we stripped to our bathing suits and waded in, as the heavens opened yet again. We swam across this first pool and clambered over some rocks into a second pool lying beneath the falls. Only the last 100 feet of waterfall was visible from the second pool, but the velocity of the water attested to its descent from the heights. The mist made it almost impossible to open our eyes as we swam toward the falls. Another cruising family was just returning from a swim and they told us of a shelf behind the falls where we could rest after we swam under the cataract. I could not persuade Rani to join me, so I dived under and swam beneath the pounding water, coming up in a narrow gap beside the rock wall. It was difficult to breathe in this small space and I did not linger.
On our return, a handsome cinnamon coloured dog that had followed the other cruisers to the falls 'adopted' us, trotting happily along between Rani and me for the entire return trip. I wonder how many cruisers this attractive fellow has guided to and from the falls?
On a sobering note, we learned that only a few weeks ago on this trail a woman from one of the cruising boats had been struck on the head by a falling coconut. When this sort of thing happens in cartoons we laugh, but a ripe coconut can weigh 4 or 5 pounds. Anyone who has heard the WHUMPH when one of these hits the ground nearby can understand how important it is to try to avoid walking under coconut palms, especially in any sort of a wind. After the accident, the woman was driven to the beach by one of the Marquesans we had talked to earlier and evacuated to the hospital at Taiohae where she died the next day. Another Marquesan told us that he has cut down the palm tree that caused the cruiser's death as well several others near the trail, but there are still dozens if not hundreds of palm trees that one passes under on the hike to the falls.
The people we met in this valley were very friendly. The first house that we came to after fording a two foot deep river sells fruit to the cruisers who come here mostly during the months when cyclones are not a possibility. Two Marquesan men and a woman invited us over and gave us samples of their fruits - they sell bananas by the stalk, breadfruit, star fruit, passion fruit, and papayas. Having not brought money, we chatted with them for a while and then told them we would come back the next day.
The road passed by a few modest homes before plunging into the rain forest, which is aptly named as it rained here for much of our walk. In the forest were the pai pai home sites of the thousands of Marquesans who lived here before they were decimated in the 19th century by the diseases of foreigners. Now only a handful of families lives here with more coming from nearby Taiohae on their vacations.
We crossed the river several times, each time having to wade up toour knees on slippery and sharp stones. After more than an hour of following the muddy trail, we came to a look-out from which the waterfall at the head of the valley could be seen. A French couple was resting there and the woman warned us in broken English against going beyond the point where the valley closes in, due to danger of rock falls made worse by the recent rain. She also told us that the missionaries were responsible for building the trail we had been following and pointed out a side 'hidden valley' in which women, the old, and children were said to have hidden in times of war.
At the bottom of the hill, we reached the point where crumbling thousand foot spires hem in the valley. The trail from this point criss-crosses a turbulent stream several times and, so high and near are the cliffs, that it is difficult to see the sky. During one river crossing, I tried to stay dry shod but slipped while jumping to the last rock and badly knocked a shin, tearing the skin in several places. Any sort of open wound here is a serious matter due to ease of infection, but we decided to press on and clean things up when we returned to Ladybug. At this same crossing, Rani had just finished wading across when we spotted a 3 foot long eel swimming inches from where she had just stepped. A few hundred feet further we found the bag of hard hats that someone has donated to make hiking through the gorge safer. We each donned a hat and proceeded to the pool below the falls.
The pool was muddy with run-off, but we stripped to our bathing suits and waded in, as the heavens opened yet again. We swam across this first pool and clambered over some rocks into a second pool lying beneath the falls. Only the last 100 feet of waterfall was visible from the second pool, but the velocity of the water attested to its descent from the heights. The mist made it almost impossible to open our eyes as we swam toward the falls. Another cruising family was just returning from a swim and they told us of a shelf behind the falls where we could rest after we swam under the cataract. I could not persuade Rani to join me, so I dived under and swam beneath the pounding water, coming up in a narrow gap beside the rock wall. It was difficult to breathe in this small space and I did not linger.
On our return, a handsome cinnamon coloured dog that had followed the other cruisers to the falls 'adopted' us, trotting happily along between Rani and me for the entire return trip. I wonder how many cruisers this attractive fellow has guided to and from the falls?
On a sobering note, we learned that only a few weeks ago on this trail a woman from one of the cruising boats had been struck on the head by a falling coconut. When this sort of thing happens in cartoons we laugh, but a ripe coconut can weigh 4 or 5 pounds. Anyone who has heard the WHUMPH when one of these hits the ground nearby can understand how important it is to try to avoid walking under coconut palms, especially in any sort of a wind. After the accident, the woman was driven to the beach by one of the Marquesans we had talked to earlier and evacuated to the hospital at Taiohae where she died the next day. Another Marquesan told us that he has cut down the palm tree that caused the cruiser's death as well several others near the trail, but there are still dozens if not hundreds of palm trees that one passes under on the hike to the falls.
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Life is an adventure in Taiohae Bay
A southerly swell rolls in to Taiohae Bay at certain times of the year and this was clearly one of those times. No-one who has lived only on land can understand how truly irritating it is to have your home continuously tipped from side to side and fore and aft, sometimes to an angle of 25 or 30 degrees. I get irritable after a few hours of this and we stayed in this bay for 4 days and nights! Poor Rani. Making meals, eating, and even sleeping are all adventures in this environment.
The reason we were there, along with 30 to 40 other yachts is that this is the largest town in the Marquesas and the only place where one can buy duty free diesel at about $1.20 Canadian a liter. It is also a place where vegetables can sometimes be found - although the best appear at 5 am on Saturday morning and are snatched up and gone by 6 am! Finally, one can access the internet via wifi and a satellite link - sort of and sometimes...
We refilled one propane bottle here with butane. To save the $5 charge at Yacht Services, we (foolishly in retrospect) hoofed our empty tank up the hill towards a white building to which we had been directed. We got lost, of course, and a very kind French lady originally from Toulouse, drove us to the building, only to find it closed. We left the tank with a friendly Marquesan mechanic and returned the next day to meet with Kevin - an American who married a local and runs a woodworking shop and does butane refills. He uses a gravity feed system that required us to leave our cylinder there for the day, while liguid butane dribbled into it. 400 CPF (about $4 US dollars) per kilo - and the small tank took 5.5 kilos using his method (more full than it has ever been in Mexico I believe). He later delivered the tank to the dinghy dock during a deluge - inches of rain in two hours - strapped to the back of his motorcycle. When we came back to our dinghy, we found it filled to the gunwales with muddy run-off. I was badly scraped down one side from where it had been bashed by a dozen other dinghies against the rough barnacled concrete. The local kids were amused by my attempts to bail it dry without sinking it and ending up in the water myself. Refilling a propane/butane tank can also be an adventure.
We also refilled our diesel tank using jerry jugs and towing our dinghy behind Chapter II's inflatable as a sort of fuel barge. To do this, you motor over to a seawall with a ladder and rings set in it that forms the end of the main cargo pier. The swell was so bad that one of us stayed in the dinghy to fend off the sea wall, while the other two scrambled up a ladder and bucket brigaded the empty cans onto the dock far above. To make things more interesting, the giant hawsers that secured a large cargo vessel to this pier were rising and falling immediately above the ladder, making timing critical. We then walked to the fuel station, which serves all the local vehicles for a town of 2500, and waited in line to fill our 6 containers. Next, we lugged them back to the pier, ducking under the cargo ship lines as they rose on the swell, caught a rope tossed from the waiting dinghy and, tying this to each can, lowered the cans to the man in the dinghy. Mike who was in the dinghy had no easy job as he had to catch and stow each gyrating can in the 'fuel barge' tender while fending his own dinghy off the barnacle encrusted seawall as it rose and fell in 5 foot swells. We then returned to the mother ships and filled our tannks, repeating the entire procedure so that we both had extra fuel for our 4 weeks in the Tuamotus. Refuelling is also an adventure here.
Even shopping for groceries is not the simple act it is in a typical small town in Canada or the US. The Marquesans are not great consumers of vegetables and we chased rumours of fresh produce all over town. After 3 days of shopping, interspersed with social visits and boat tasks, we managed to procure a few cauliflower heads (very small), 8 eggplants, 3 taro, 3 sweet potatoes, 2 cabbages, a squash, and a couple of kilos of carrots. Most of these are locally grown, the carrots being shipped in from Tahiti. We supplemented this with some canned green beans and carrots. We hope to obtain lots of fresh fruit in Ua Pou, where we will sail in a few days.
We are currently anchored in the next bay over from Taiohae (known as Daniel's Bay and also the site of the 2002 season of survivor, I believe). This is much more well protected and hence relatively swell-free and is surrounded by rugged peaks and gentle valleys. There is a hike to a 1000 foot waterfall - the tallest in these islands - which we plan to undertake tomorrow. Our friends from Chapter 2 and Sockdolager are here and we will have them over in a few hours for home-made chili and an evening of music.
The reason we were there, along with 30 to 40 other yachts is that this is the largest town in the Marquesas and the only place where one can buy duty free diesel at about $1.20 Canadian a liter. It is also a place where vegetables can sometimes be found - although the best appear at 5 am on Saturday morning and are snatched up and gone by 6 am! Finally, one can access the internet via wifi and a satellite link - sort of and sometimes...
We refilled one propane bottle here with butane. To save the $5 charge at Yacht Services, we (foolishly in retrospect) hoofed our empty tank up the hill towards a white building to which we had been directed. We got lost, of course, and a very kind French lady originally from Toulouse, drove us to the building, only to find it closed. We left the tank with a friendly Marquesan mechanic and returned the next day to meet with Kevin - an American who married a local and runs a woodworking shop and does butane refills. He uses a gravity feed system that required us to leave our cylinder there for the day, while liguid butane dribbled into it. 400 CPF (about $4 US dollars) per kilo - and the small tank took 5.5 kilos using his method (more full than it has ever been in Mexico I believe). He later delivered the tank to the dinghy dock during a deluge - inches of rain in two hours - strapped to the back of his motorcycle. When we came back to our dinghy, we found it filled to the gunwales with muddy run-off. I was badly scraped down one side from where it had been bashed by a dozen other dinghies against the rough barnacled concrete. The local kids were amused by my attempts to bail it dry without sinking it and ending up in the water myself. Refilling a propane/butane tank can also be an adventure.
We also refilled our diesel tank using jerry jugs and towing our dinghy behind Chapter II's inflatable as a sort of fuel barge. To do this, you motor over to a seawall with a ladder and rings set in it that forms the end of the main cargo pier. The swell was so bad that one of us stayed in the dinghy to fend off the sea wall, while the other two scrambled up a ladder and bucket brigaded the empty cans onto the dock far above. To make things more interesting, the giant hawsers that secured a large cargo vessel to this pier were rising and falling immediately above the ladder, making timing critical. We then walked to the fuel station, which serves all the local vehicles for a town of 2500, and waited in line to fill our 6 containers. Next, we lugged them back to the pier, ducking under the cargo ship lines as they rose on the swell, caught a rope tossed from the waiting dinghy and, tying this to each can, lowered the cans to the man in the dinghy. Mike who was in the dinghy had no easy job as he had to catch and stow each gyrating can in the 'fuel barge' tender while fending his own dinghy off the barnacle encrusted seawall as it rose and fell in 5 foot swells. We then returned to the mother ships and filled our tannks, repeating the entire procedure so that we both had extra fuel for our 4 weeks in the Tuamotus. Refuelling is also an adventure here.
Even shopping for groceries is not the simple act it is in a typical small town in Canada or the US. The Marquesans are not great consumers of vegetables and we chased rumours of fresh produce all over town. After 3 days of shopping, interspersed with social visits and boat tasks, we managed to procure a few cauliflower heads (very small), 8 eggplants, 3 taro, 3 sweet potatoes, 2 cabbages, a squash, and a couple of kilos of carrots. Most of these are locally grown, the carrots being shipped in from Tahiti. We supplemented this with some canned green beans and carrots. We hope to obtain lots of fresh fruit in Ua Pou, where we will sail in a few days.
We are currently anchored in the next bay over from Taiohae (known as Daniel's Bay and also the site of the 2002 season of survivor, I believe). This is much more well protected and hence relatively swell-free and is surrounded by rugged peaks and gentle valleys. There is a hike to a 1000 foot waterfall - the tallest in these islands - which we plan to undertake tomorrow. Our friends from Chapter 2 and Sockdolager are here and we will have them over in a few hours for home-made chili and an evening of music.
Photos from Tahuata
These pictures really go with text in earlier posts related to our stay in Tahuata island...
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| Hino at his bachelor pad in Vaitahu |
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| Pan bread rolls - we bake these on the stove top in a heavy frying pan. |
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| Can you spot our dinghy? |
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| Church in Vaitahu |
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| Stained glass window in church |
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| Pamplemousse in the village |
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| Small pirogues |
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| Carved post at one of the stores |
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| Larger pirogue |
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| Artisans at Hapatoni |
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| Bone carvings |
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| Lovely octopus necklace |
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| Bone tiki (2 sided) |
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| Hapatoni church |
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| Raised stone road at Hapatoni |
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| Hapatoni Bay |
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| Chris avec une vache |
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| Papaya off the tree |
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| Giant leaves dwarf Rani |
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| Ken Burns prepares a drinking nut for us - removing the husk against his knee - do not try this at home! |
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| A friend of Hino prepares mango salad |
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| Pakalolo's pîglets - pakalolo is the local term for marijuana... |
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| Hapatoni artisan |
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