Passage Marquesas to Tuamotus

We were finally heading for the Tuamotus, also known as the dangerous archipelago, which is a group of over 70 low lying atolls that runs for several hundred miles in a northwest - southeast direction between the Marquesas and Society Islands. They get their name because they are low lying which makes them difficult to see until you are about four miles away. In most cases a palm tree is the tallest object and strange currents can exist between them, adding to the dangers. An atoll is basically an ancient volcano that has sunk back into the sea, leaving only a fringing coral reef around the old rim. The coral reef is not very thick (1/4 mile) but the atolls can be 30 miles long and 15 miles wide, they look (and feel) like great big salt water ponds with 100 foot depths on the inside and 3000 foot depths just on the outside. Usually there is only one pass in the reef which means all the water fills and empties from one spot creating very strong tidal currents (6-9 knots in some cases), faster than our boat will travel. This creates a navigators nightmare because you have to leave and enter the pass at slack tide, which makes inter-atoll route planning an interesting task to say the least. THEN you have to time your path across the atoll so that the sun is above or behind you so that you can see the coral heads that litter the inside of the lagoons.

We listened to the normal cruisers net and discovered that most boats were traveling the northern route through the island group, so we decided that we wanted to “go off the beaten path” and travel the most southern route we could reach based on winds. . The far southern atolls were used by the French for atomic testing and are off limits to cruisers, so we were aiming for Raroia, Makemo or Kauehi.

Our route from the Marquesas to Tuamotus

It was about a 550 nautical mile trip, which we planned for three and a half or four days. For me it was nice to be at sea again, I think we got stuck in our last anchorage in the Marquesas too long.  KT pre-cooked a lot of excellent amazingly great tasting food, which made her less sea sick, so we were like a sailing machine. Our goal was to aim as far southeast in the Tuamotus as possible so that we could sail down wind to the other atolls that we felt like visiting. The wind was further from the southeast than normal so we spent the first couple of days closer to the wind (70o) than we had planned. As usual the swells were from a different direction (southerly) so we had a pretty wet ride as the swells smacked us right on the nose. After a few days our friends that left a day behind us, who were not enjoying the bashing, decided they were heading for Kauehi. Kauehi was our furthest west destination but an atoll with a very easy pass entrance and still off the main northern path. We bore off which created a much more comfortable ride, although we did have to reduce sail so that we would not arrive in the middle of the night.

I can’t imagine traveling like Cook through these islands without charts and radar, if you blinked you’d miss them.  I was a little nervous so we used our radar and spotted the atoll right in its charted position. The electronic charts we used were exact, like a big person looking down from the sky and drawing us on the chart.  Now we had to time our entrance. We waited in front of the pass entrance by heaving-to, planning to enter around 11:30. We noticed a couple of other boats on the horizon and they talked to their friends in the anchorage via VHF who said that anytime was good, because it was wide (1000’) with no obstructions on either side. They both entered ahead of us without incident, so we just followed right along. We had two knots of current going with us with some pretty big standing waves (three feet vs. dead flat) inside the pass, and got squirrelly once or twice, but did fine.

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Daniel’s Bay through Nuka Hiva, Marquesas

May 7th – May 27th



On Friday May 7th we pulled anchor for a day sail over to Daniel’s Bay, Nuka Hiva.

Daniel's Bay (Nuka Hiva)

Have I mentioned how beautiful the Marquesas landscapes are???  Daniel’s Bay is completely surrounded by high rising cliffs of black and green that are populated with palm trees galore. The mountainous protection provided a very calm anchorage, but also blocked out any strong breezes, which meant that for the first time mosquitoes and no-nos could come aboard!  But for all the bug bites I came away with (and we aren’t talking small quantities here) I wouldn’t have missed Daniel’s Bay.




Taiohae Bay Photos below
Saturday we joined Emerald and Bobulona for another fantastic waterfall hike.  We came ashore near Daniel’s house (new house that is, as Survivor built him the new house in order to bulldoze his old house and use the location for one of the tribes).  Daniel and a friend enthusiastically greeted us.  Daniel has a very witty sense of humor and a smile that reaches ear to ear!  He pointed us towards the waterfall and told us to stop by again on our return.  The hike led us through an enchanted forest, where any minute you expected the trees to get up and start walking.  We compared much of the scenery to that seen in Lord of the Rings. The entire place seemed mystical, magical, and spiritual.  It wasn’t as easy to get to the base of the waters (as at Fatu Hiva or Oa Pou), requiring us to cross the flowing river four times and then either climb over a moss covered rock or through a small cave (under the rock) in order to actually swim to the base of the waterfall.  When we did reach the base we were overwhelmed by its power.  It was a long tiring hike, and we were exhausted when we finally made it back.  Monet and her husband (two locals we had met on our way up) waved us over to their house and brought out cold limeade, pomplemousse and bananas.  Two strangers giving openly to a bunch of tourists … how often does that happen in the states?  We chatted for a bit, and Monet showed us some necklaces she made, they were terrific and at only $5.00 per necklace a true steal.  Not having any cash, we all promised to return the next day.  As we were leaving I stopped to admire some of her flowers, she instantly yelled at for me to take one!

Exhausted Chris and I decided to watch a movie before bed.  We had aboard the first and second season of the TV series 24.  So many of our friends had talked up this show before leaving (this is when we didn’t have cable) that we purchased the DVDs for a “rainy day”.  Our friends on Waking Dream told us it was “addicting” and that when we finally decided to watch it they “wouldn’t see us for a couple of days!”  Each episode is about 40-45 minutes long.  That night, I’m embarrassed to admit, we watched EIGHT episodes!!!  It was just that each one ended in such a cliffhanger that we just had to know what was going to happen.  We kept saying, “this is the last one”, but when it would end it became “ok, just one more”.  Finally exhaustion overtook us and we dragged ourselves away.  Since then we spent many the next nights watching the series, and have now finished both seasons!  I think we are actually relieved to be done with them!  We passed on the first season to Emerald and the second to Waking Dream … we called it passing the curse!  Emerald has said they don’t know whether to thank us or hate us!  Bobulona has also gotten into the curse, the DVDs being passed from Emerald.  We highly recommend the show, but do have to warn that it is  extremely addicting!

On Sunday we went back ashore to buy some fruit and necklaces from Monet and sign Daniel’s cruisers guest book.  Again, Monet and her husband gave us ice-cold limeade along with fried bananas.  Daniel proudly showed us his guest books, which go back at least ten years.  Cruisers sign in, pasting in pictures and boat cards, or drawing pictures next to their messages to Daniel and his wife.  The books were amazing and we enjoyed leafing through them.  We all added our own messages and pictures, while Daniel entertained us with stories and jokes.  Daniel gave us coconuts and made the opening and peeling of them look easy (although we still seem to struggle with them).  Back at our boats, Chris took up a collection of light painkillers (like aspirin and Tylenol) for Daniel’s wife who suffers from arthritis.

Had it not been for the bugs (at this point I easily had at least 30 bites on EACH leg), we would’ve stayed longer, but the sleepless, itchy, hot nights were getting to me, so the next morning we moved down the way to Taiohae Bay (Nuka Hiva).

Taiohae Bay (Nuka Hiva)

Looking back it doesn’t seem like we spent two weeks in Nuka Hiva, but we did.  We were excited to find ice cream, sashimi, and pizza!  We ate out (at the local fire-oven pizza place) twice, both times with large groups of cruisers (10 to 12 of us).  On our first visit we met Akitini, the “tattoo guy”.  He was covered head to toe in traditional black Marquesian tattoos.  Chris had been toying with the idea of getting a tattoo since we left Ventura, I on the other hand was pretty sure I didn’t want another one … until that is, we got to the Marquesas and I saw some of the magnificent work.  When we met Akitini, I just knew I had to have a tattoo!!!  Two days later we were committed, along with Doug and Angela from Solstice.  Angela and I were ready to go, while Doug and Chris were still thinking it over.  I was up first … I wanted my tattoo to be “very Marquesian”, “related to the Ocean”, and linked to “life and spirituality” … with that in mind, Akitini decided on the Marquesian Turtle.  With the help of Chris, we drew a circle on the upper center part of my back … my only constraint was that it be no bigger than that circle.  I ended up with a beautiful turtle, with Tikis within each leg and a spiral of ‘dots’ in the center of the shell.  The Tikis are good luck (like someone watching over you), the spiral represents the tides of the Ocean, and the turtle itself is believed to represent the link between life and death!  There was a bit of a shock factor when it came to size … he used the circle for the body of the turtle, the head and legs expanding well outside the body … YIKES!!!  I’ll admit it took me about a week of asking “is it to big?” and looking in the mirror multiple times a day to get used to my new (very permanent) body art.  In the end I loved (still do) it (phew!).

Angela already knew she wanted a manta ray, and found one in his small sketchbook.  By the time Angela and I were both tattooed, Chris and Doug were convinced that they did indeed want tattoos … but what?  Chris found the perfect thing for him … it was a sand drawing, that Akitini’s friend had laid out to dry, of a fishhook with a dolphin ‘coming out’ of the hook.  Chris showed it to Akitini, who said it would be no problem.  We came back the next day to get Chris and Doug tattooed.  Akitini had been sketching some different ideas for Chris’s tattoo, all of which were beautiful.  He also had his friend show us all of her sand art.  Such talent!  I’m really not sure how to even go about describing them … they are like tattoos drawn out with colored sand then framed.  Everything from Tikis, to birds, Manta rays, sharks, and abstract designs.  After all this time in the Marquesas I was beginning to feel inadequate due to my lack of any artistic or musical talent.  We loved the sand art so much that we purchased one.

Chris’s tattoo is full of Marquesian symbolism … Tikis, manta rays, dolphins, the sun, and more.  The fishhook itself symbolizes safe passage over water.  Of the four tattoos, Chris’s is my favorite.  Doug decided to “go for it” and gave full creative leeway to Akitini.  He gave some size limitations and location and let Akitini do his thing!  It was a wise decision because his tattoo was just awesome.  We are still debating whether to post pictures … there is so much detail that we are convinced the pictures won’t do them justice, but then ago nor do these words!!!

Saturday was the 4a.m. (yep, that’s AM) market.  If for no other reason then to be apart of such craziness, we just had to go.  Boy, are we glad … fresh (just caught) yellowtail, warm croissants (plain and chocolate), quiches, and tons of fresh veggies.  I am not a morning person, AT ALL, but the melt-in-your-mouth fish and days without fresh veggies made 4 a.m. feel like sleeping in!  For the next two days we feasted on Sushimi and green salads.

Sunday brought with it another treat … ICE!  A few of us were getting together on Ocean Girl late that afternoon for drinks, and Chris and I were hopeful that we might still have a bit of ice left from Atouna (we don’t have a freezer, but if we put something right next to the cold plate at the very bottom of the frig it will usually freeze).  We were bummed to find only a very very small block; maybe enough for two to four drinks max.  We jokingly suggested to Ralph (Ocean Girl) and Gordon (Ascension) that they dinghy over to a large U.S. ship that was temporarily anchored just within the bay, and ask for some ice.  Ralph and Gordon actually went for it, and, mission successfully, they returned with a large bucket of ice … crushed ice no less!!!

The next day was packed full with an all day 4x4 Island tour.  The 4x4 was definitely needed, she took us on all sorts of back roads, up mountains, and through mud ponds.  With eight of us packed into the Land Rover is was a bumpy smelly ride.  We saw parts of the islands and views that we could've never experienced otherwise.  The best way to describe this tour is via pictures (soon to be posted).  The comical highlight of the trip was when Jocelyn (the tour guide) was pointing out a poisonous flower and telling us how it has been used for suicide and murder.  Angela leaned forward and [in all seriousness] asked, "How does it taste?".  Those of us in the back started laughing immediately while Doug (her husband) just shook his head and said "That's Angela!"  She was a good sport, trying to explain what she really meant by the question, but really, there was no excuse!  What was even funnier is that Jocelyn, in an attempt to be polite, actually tried to seriously answer Angela's question!

We also enjoyed an evening watching (and listening) the locals practice for the upcoming festivals in Tahiti.  The drums were powerful ... you could feel their beats and rhythms vibrate and pound through your entire being.  I tried to capture in on tape, but it's just not the same (however I'll still post a snip-it for you soon).

The next five days were spent “working” during the day and “playing” at night.  Oil changes, sewing projects (shade awnings & cockpit shade curtains), laundry, provisioning, and other boat projects were balanced by dinner with Waking Dream aboard Billabong, Cranium on Emerald, drinks at a magnificent hotel overlooking the anchorage, and group Pizza night out.  I also went through an extreme bout of homesickness.  Without constant email access or affordable phone cards, our communications home had dwindled to one short call a week.  For me, this just wasn’t enough.  I was used to daily, even hourly emails with my sister and friends, weekly or bi-weekly dinners with my dad and his wife, non-stop use of my cell phone with out-of-town friends and family, and now I barely got fifteen minutes a week.  We meet (and have met) a lot of great people cruising, however you don’t always know when you’ll see someone again (if ever), and this makes developing and maintaining close relationships difficult.  Even worse, once you do develop that relationship, it’s another person to miss when you end up at different anchorages.  I especially seem to miss “girl time”, we do a lot of things as couples or in groups, and I crave that alone time with all females … something Chris just can’t provide!  Luckily I got out of my funk after a week or so, and I’m hoping that the email situation will improve when we arrive in Tahiti.  In the meantime, I‘m making every effort to enjoy those people that I am meeting and to not get caught up in the “but I may never see them again” syndrome.

We were around for another 4a.m. market, where I became task force lead in the objective of securing tomatoes, quiche, and fish (you see, in our first market visit I discovered I’m just not quite aggressive enough to battle the outgoing, outspoken locals and other cruisers … I missed out on the tomatoes & quiches, and had a near-miss on the croissants).  Even with my well laid out plans, it was a close call.  I just barely snagged the last bag of tomatoes, and almost panicked as I watched the quiches disappearing before my very eyes, even though I had been the first one at the bakery stand (first one there but somehow not the first one to order) … with the help from Angela I obtained those desperately desired four mini-quiches!  We didn’t think it was possibly, but by the time Chris and I had finished our second fish we were actually tired of sushimi!!!  

We finally made it to church on Sunday, to hear first-hand the singing that so many cruisers had told us about.  Their voices boomed out in amazing, powerful harmonies, as we sat there in awe.  I hope that their voices echo through my thoughts years from now.

In the afternoon we finished up our final preparations, cleaning, stowage, and pre-meal prep for the upcoming four-day passage to the Tuamotus.  A huge part of me was sad to leave, especially knowing that the odds of ever visiting these miraculous lands again was next to nothing, however the clear water and white sand beaches of the Tuamotus beckoned, and I knew I had something to look forward to.

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Fatu Hiva through Oa Pou, Marquesas

April 19th - May 6th 2004



We are still pinching ourselves on a daily basis that this is real.  Are we really living on a sailboat in the South Pacific?  How can we possibly capture the wonders of our new lives, be it via journals, film, or video?  Not to say that this rose doesn’t have a few thorns … there are many days when the boat demands our attention, the heat melts us, and the bug bites scar us … cruising involves a lot of work, but the upside is so magnificent that we can only dream about what tomorrow continues to bring.

We wrapped up our visit on Fatu Hiva. We made a few other stops to drop off a hat and t-shirt to a couple of people that had given Chris some fruit on his earlier visit and to say hi again to the Chief (hi was all he got since we no longer had his t-shirt!).  The Chief was carving a beautiful wood hatchet with a bone carved handle.  He told Chris that if we showed up at the Festival in Papeete he would have a carved fishhook for him (Chris had given him a few Dremells earlier for his bone carving work).  We hope to make the festival, so it will be interesting to see if he really makes Chris a bone carving (we have absolutely no expectations).



Atouna, Hiva Oa

Our next stop was Atouna, Hiva Oa, a fairly easy motor-sail from Fatu Hiva.  Unfortunately Chris’s body was going through shock from the fruit feast he had enjoyed over the last two days so he wasn’t feeling so hot.  We spent four days in Atouna.  The anchorage was a few miles from the town, so typically we hitchhiked our way there and back … the natives were terribly friendly and riding in the back of a pick-up truck was as close as we ever got to air conditioning!  The town was cute (though Chris probably wouldn’t use that word), however after Fatu Hiva, there seemed to be just too many cars (how quickly our views change … when did twenty cars become too many???).  Chris was still ill our first day in, so I explored the town with Emerald and returned with fresh baguettes … our soon to be major staple for the months to come!

Oa Pou Photos below

The next day, Chris and I went in together.  We finally checked in, where I was thrilled to get a Marquesas stamp in my passport!  Oddly, we didn’t have to pay a bond.  Yet others did.  We thought we had it figured out, those with visas obtained prior to arrival didn’t have to pay, but the others did … however later on it was rumored that in the second wave of boats, everyone had to pay regardless of visas or no visas.  We are guessing that the bond will catch up with us sooner or later, probably in Tahiti.  Finding a time when the Gendarme (local police) was in to do the check-in was tricky as well … we have yet to figure out just when Siesta starts and ends.  But all in all it went very smooth and sure beat all the walking we had to do in Mexico!  While waiting for the Gendarme office to open we explored the small town; visiting the few shops and stores, and hiking up to the graveyard, where Gauguin (famous artist) is buried.  On the way home we stopped in at Felix’s (the “Fruit guy”).  Talk about fresh fruit … he picks it off the tree right there and then … pomplemousse, avocados as big as grapefruits, mangoes, and some other scary looking things that we weren’t brave enough to try.

Throughout the day, having just studied up some more on my photographer’s field guy, I was snapping pictures left and right, attempting to get creative angles, using the manual aperture settings, and playing with the exposure settings.  I must have taken over thirty; very brilliant I’m sure, photographs.  Only I had forgot to put the media card back in the camera the day before!!!  So much for being the next Ansel Adam!

We also purchased our first veggies since leaving Mexico … never had I so craved a green salad.  That night I made a HUGE salad with all the works; bell peppers, tomatoes, cucumber, cheese, carrots, and lettuce.  Lucky for me Chris bit into his first.  “Hmmm, it’s kind of … spicy.”  Thinking he was talking about the bell peppers (which were small and chili looking rather then the big peppers I’m used to from the states), I replied, “Shoot, I didn’t think they were bell peppers”.  “No, not the peppers, the lettuce”.  “Spicy lettuce?”  Sure enough the lettuce had spicy-ness to it, almost like horseradish.  So much for the traditional green salad!!!

Friday we had our first adventure in laundry-by-hand!  It wasn’t the nightmare I imagined, but it was quite a chore … I will definitely show my appreciation to any future washing machine and dryer I own!  We also walked out to Felix’s to pick up our bananas. When Felix saw us he slapped his forehead - he had forgotten to go cut the bananas.  No problem, he grabbed his machete and Chris, and off they went … into the jungle.  Climbing over and under barbwire fences, and across a stream on top of a fallen palm tree with no hand holds (if you’ve ever seen Chris attempt to balance on a beam like a ballerina you’ll realize how funny that is) to return with a banana stalk that held at LEAST 110 bananas (that was our best guess)!  Of course we all know that green bananas all go at once … just what were Chris and I going to do with all these bananas?  [It took about six banana bread loaves (some with chocolate chips or blueberries for variety), banana cake, banana muffins, banana biscuits, and lots of just plain eating them to get through the stalk, to our amazement we threw out very few!]

Tahuata 

Saturday we moved over to Hana Moe Noe on Tahuata (about a one hour sail).  We had pre-planned a little birthday cake gathering with Island Sonata and Emerald for Sunday.  The water was a beautiful clear turquoise and the anchorage uninhabited.  Koncerto (a fifty-foot catamaran) invited six other boats over for a potluck dinner.  We started my birthday celebration a bit early with everyone singing happy birthday to me over candled banana bread.

Sunday, my 30th birthday, was an awesome day.  It started with Chris offering to make me breakfast … before we had a chance Whisper and Emerald stopped by on their way out to dive.  We followed them out to do some snorkeling.  The visibility wasn’t great, but it was still a good time (even with the tiny jelly fish stings!).  Back on the boat, I was in such a good mood that I cooked us breakfast instead.  Chris did a great job entertaining me with a few games of Canasta (although he didn’t let me win).  At 4p.m. we headed over to Island Sonata.  What was supposed to be just a bit of cake and swimming turned into a full out party.  Twelve of us packed onto Island Sonata and enjoyed drinks, an excellent chocolate cake, great singing by M.J. (of Island Sonata), and later on some karaoke! I was given lots of candy and beer (birthday presents), and a beautiful traditional head wreath (or as I called it, crown) from Chris (who had a bit of help from Emerald in decorating it with flowers).  I loved the wreath, and in wearing it was promptly name Princess Tahuata!  I still occasional wear the wreath (or crown) around the boat just for fun (or because I’m weird!).  Knowing my 30th birthday was going to take place either at sea or somewhere in the South Pacific, I had originally been a bit bummed thinking, “who [besides Chris] would I celebrate with?” … I needn’t have worried, it was the best birthday celebration ever and a terrific way to turn 30!

We stayed in the next day keeping things mellow and doing a few chores with breaks to get in a few hands of Canasta.  The following evening Island Sonata held a dinghy raft up next to their boat.  We all joined our dinghy’s or kayaks, tied off to Island Sonata, and chatted the evening away.  When the weather turned, bringing in huge thunderclouds and massive amounts of rain, the party broke up.  A few of us celebrated through the rain, but no longer being tied to Island Sonata began drifting out to sea.  Before getting too far out, we motored back in to tie off to the nearest boat, which just happened to be Billabong.  A few hours later another storm came through, but this time the chill was hard to shake without the sun, so we finally called it a night.  It was at this raft up that we met the first cruisers younger then us (well, younger then me!).  Ben and Lisa from Waking Dream … Lisa was just going to turn 29 the following week … guess I’m no longer the ‘baby’!!!

The next morning was a treat.  I was up in the cockpit reading when Chris comes up and says, “What’s that?” “What’s what?”  Just stern of our boat there were at least six manta rays swimming around.  Chris couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed them!  Apparently they were feeding … slowing maneuvering all around Billabong.  I asked Chris if it was safe to swim with them, to which he said yes.  So I threw on my suite and grabbed my snorkeling gear.  Just before getting in I asked “Are you sure they don’t bite? … They look kind of scary!”  Laughing Chris just said, “No, No, hurry ... just get in before the go away.” “Then why aren’t you getting in?”  To this he just laughed … out of either stupidity or faith I jumped in anyway.  A couple of the manta rays were huge, as large as our dinghy.  They basically ignored me, but there were a few moments in the beginning, when they were swimming right at me, that I just wasn’t one hundred percent sure!  Eventually Chris and Peter (from Matura who was anchored next to us and noticed us pointing into the water) joined me in the water.  These animals were so amazingly graceful looking with their gigantic ‘wings’ flapping in the water.  We must have snorkeled with them for at least an hour.  Chris and Peter tried to catch a ride, but they were never quite quick enough.  I braved a single touch on the top of one, but a single slimy fingertip was about as close I got.

We had some friends (Ocean Girl) over for snacks and drinks later on that evening and retired rather early (seems we pretty much fade with the sun).

Hanamenu, Hiva Oa

The next morning (Thursday April 29th) we pulled anchor for a short day sail to the north side of Hiva Oa, Hanamenu.  Shortly after anchoring a huge squall hit and continued throughout the day and into the night.  The next morning we awoke to a mud and tree filled anchorage. I came up into the cockpit to find Chris battling to push off an entire tree that was floating by and entangling itself in first our stern then bow anchor.  With some effort we were able to get it free, luckily without tripping either anchor.  A neighboring boat yelled over that it was like being anchored in the Mississippi!  The rain, wind, and swell made it impossible to leave the boat, and the next day, as the swell continued to pick up, we decided to try the next anchorage up instead.  Our plans changed when we poked out of the anchorage and found strong headwinds coming from the direction we wanted to go.  Rather then beat up, we decided to return to Tahuata with plans on leaving for Oa Pou around 3a.m. the following morning.  The squalls continued through the night, and when 3a.m. hit neither of us had the energy to get up and go.  We opted to stay the day (and relax) and then head out that evening for a night sail.  We enjoyed some great snorkeling, took a brief siesta and lifted anchor around 5p.m.  It was a great night (although winds lightened up and it got a bit rolly) … the moon was full, lighting up the sky, and seas were relatively calm (minus the annoying swell).



Hakahetau Bay, Oa Pou

We hadn’t yet decided which anchorage we were going to stop at on Oa Pou, but learning there were twenty or so boats in the main anchorage, we quickly bypassed it and went for the northwest side instead, landing at Hakahetau Bay.  We made an excellent choice.  Hakahetau Bay and Fatu Hiva turned out to be my two favorite spots in the Marquesas.  The spires and landscapes take my breath away every time I look. Emerald and Billabong were the only two boats in the bay (for awhile anyway).  After naps we went ashore with Rick and Corbie (Emerald).  During our initial tour of the village we met Pasqel.  He spoke excellent English and we were able to learn a lot about the town and some Marquesian history.  Including some history of Marquesas tattoos and their meanings.  We learned that in the “old days” a persons tattoos would tell about their entire life, from what they did, to what they believed, and where they were from.  As a person aged, they would continue to add tattoos, which represented the different trials and phases of their life.  Anyone who met them would instantly know a hundred things about that person.  Pasqel talked us through his armband tattoo, explaining each symbol.  It also became obvious to us why no one goes by their Marquesian name … Pasqel’s name must’ve have been ten words long and taken him a good five minutes to say!!!  He also gave us some information about the different sights around the island, some of which would require a guide to get to.  The “two to three” hour hike up the crest and to the waterfall (via the back way) sounded great, so Pasqel introduced us to Michelle who was a very very handsome Marquesian and also a tour guide.  Corbie and I joked (in private) that we’d have no problem following him!  We arranged to meet the next morning for the walking tour.

The walk took us up along one of the crests, providing breath-taking views.  The trail (if you could call certain parts of it that) was extremely muddy … we had to stop often to knock off the thick layers that accumulated on the bottom of our shoes.  Michelle was a great guide, he claimed he didn’t know English, but his English was terrific!  He stopped often either to make sure we were all keeping up ok, or to point out different trees, plants, fruits, etc.  About two hours into the hike, he mentioned we were about halfway!  The mosquitoes in the forest were bigger than bumblebees and the buzz they created sounded like far off power tools.  It was definitely a difficult, uphill, sweaty, buggy hike, and worth every bit of effort!  Throughout the entire hike we couldn’t take enough pictures, or stop enough times to admire the views!  When we finally hit the waterfall (five hours later) it was wonderful and the cool water was inviting.  Luckily we took the short way back (30 easy minutes downhill)!  Michelle mentioned that we could buy ice cream at one of the houses down the way if we were interested.  “If we were interested?”  We couldn’t get to it fast enough.  The ice cream was sold from a couple’s home … we actually sat in their backyard eating it!  Without a second thought the husband picked a couple of pomplemousse, cut them up, and handing them out to us.  We are still continuously amazed at the friendliness we keep encountering.

On our way back to our boats Rick met a local, Martin, who invited us all (at this point there were now two other boats in the anchorage … Bobulona and Waking Dream) to a potluck BBQ on shore with his family.  After being entertained by the children playing with our kayaks we returned to our boats to clean up and nap before dinner.  Martin and his family put on a huge feast … tons of meat kabobs, rice, bananas, French fries and sausages.  Although Martin spoke some English, his family and children did not, so there was a lot of smiling and hand waving going on in attempts to communicate.  Chris and I found it easier to “talk” with the children through the common language of games!  We played hide-in-seek and taught them duck-duck-goose.  Ben and Chris also got some of the boys into trying one-handed handstands.  Francios (who was crewing on Bobulona) speaks fluent French (being that he is French), and was a great conduit to the wife and cousin of Martin.  Chris and I are continuously bummed that we don’t know French, because it seems that our experiences are greatly enhanced whenever we are around those that do.  Martin also tried to show Corbie a few dancing moves, but it seems no matter how much hip shake she got in there, it just couldn’t compete with the locals!  After the long day of hiking I wasn’t sure how energetic we’d be at the BBQ, but with their huge smiles and endless generosity we couldn’t help but perk up … it was a perfect night to go with a perfect day!

The next day we decided to visit the waterfall again … the short way this time (30 minute, mostly easy hike).  We joined Bobulona and Waking Dream for the hike and again relished in the cool water.  After the waterfall, we spent a few hours playing with the kids (we had promised to bring back the kayaks) and laughing in the sun.  That night we went for a mellow relaxing evening watching a video aboard Waking Dream.  Ready to hit the hay, we went above to discover our dinghy was gone!  At first I thought the current was just pulling it around to the other side of the boat and jokingly said “Oh, too bad our dinghy seems to have disappeared”, but Chris replied, “No, it’s really gone!”  Apparently we didn’t use the best knot when we tied it up, and with the large swells that were coming in the dinghy worked it free.  I am soooo thankful that it was Chris who tied the knot and not me!!!  We borrowed Waking Dream’s two-man kayak to go looking for the dinghy, in hopes that the swell (which was coming in) outdid the wind (which was going out) and we would find the dinghy ashore.  No luck!  Waking Dream inflated their dinghy and Chris and Ben went off into the night in search, but it was a lost cause, we had no way of knowing how long ago the dinghy floated off and in which direction it really went.  The next morning Chris went on a two hour hunt (via kayak), but again, no luck!  We were now dinghy-less.  It’s a lot like not having a car.  Luckily we still have our kayaks and we have another two man inflatable kayak that can hold 750 pounds of gear should we need to lug anything to and fro.  We were also lucky in that Chris didn’t give into my ‘whining’ that evening.  We didn’t want to kayak over to Waking Dream, because we didn’t want to have salt-water wet asses when we went to sit down below.  Since the dinghy was out we decided to row the dinghy over.  I wanted to put the engine on the dinghy, but Chris stuck to his guns and insisted that it wasn’t that far and that we could row.  Because we rowed we still are in possession of our engine!  What we aren’t in possession of however, is the dinghy cover (or chaps) that took me three frustrating days to sew!!!  Life without a dinghy so far hasn’t been too bad.  Most the anchorages are small enough that paddling is ok … plus we’ve been able to hitch a lot of rides.  The biggest inconvenience is that you never have a dry bottom!  We are still debating whether we will try and get a new dinghy in Tahiti or wait until New Zealand.

After Chris’s no-luck search for the dinghy we did a bit of snorkeling.  Visibility wasn’t great, but we did see an octopus.  He was a wonder to watch, as he changed colors to match the surrounding rock he was held up in.  Chris tried to encourage (without hurting or overly scarring) him out, but it was a no-go, we were stuck admiring him from afar.

Our first two and a half weeks were absolutely wonderful.  The generous people, rugged green landscapes, daily adventures, fresh air, bright sun, colorful rainbows, vibrant sunsets, and warm tropical waters were more then we could’ve dreamed for … and to think we still had so much ahead of us to look forward too!

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Marquesas Manta Rays Video

These guys showed up right off our stern one day in Tahuata, Marquesas Islands. We jumped in and enjoyed an amazing moment with these magnificent creatures.

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Fatu-Hiva - Landfall

The Anchorage at Fatu Hiva

After anchoring, Emerald and Island Sonata welcomed us with fresh local fruit, we showered, and took in the sights around us.  We couldn’t get enough. We took a brief rest, and then kayaked to shore with Rick and Corby from Emerald.  Little kids helped us ashore in trade for a turn to play in our kayaks, which we gladly turned over.  Next we joined the village in watching a huge soccer (or Football) match that was taking place, the winner would go on to Tahiti to continue in the games.  (A neighboring Island boated in its team).  After the first game, and no longer able to sit in the sweltering heat, we hiked to the waterfall with Emerald and Island Sonata.  It was quite a hike, and we were continually amazed by the sites, it was truly everything I every associated with “Tropical Island”.  The waterfall shocked us with its size and beauty.  We expected cool, but not outstanding.  We swam in the cool pool beneath the waterfall and snacked on Pamplemouse (aka Pomelo) (a delicious local fruit, like a grapefruit without the tartness and bitterness, and a bit sweeter).  Hiking back, John (from Island Sonata) persuaded us to detour UP for further exploration.  And up.  And up.  And up.  Truly exhausted, half of us stopped in a shady spot, while the men ventured on, to the top-most point they could reach.  Could this Island be any more breath taking?  Chris got some wonderful [photo] shots, yet when we looked at them later, we knew that no photo or video could do this Island justice.  The problem with going up is you still have to come down!  At the bottom of the “trail”, just before the “real road” starts we took a break and swam in a fresh water stream.  By now our legs were in shock, after 23 days of nearly no use, this was quite the introduction back to land!  When I stood still, my legs quivered.

We were introduced to the Chief of the Island.  He showed us a magnificent bone carving he made from the tusks of a pig - such craftsmanship and detail.  He also plays on the soccer team, so we were able to learn that Fatu Hiva won the match (hooray).  I still find it a bit entertaining that the Chief's name is Marc ... not quite as authentic as I was expecting!!!  (We later learned that the Marquesian's typically take a Euro-Catholic first name and a native middle name ... unfortunately I'm not sure what his middle name is).

Finally we made our way back to Billabong, exhausted and near starving!  My only other wish for the day was an In-and-Out Burger!  At the waterfall I joked that it would’ve been perfect if there were a guy frying hamburgers at the base.  We settled for spaghetti instead and then drifted off into the best sleep of the month … knowing that tomorrow we could do paradise all over again!

Landfall in Fatu Hiva: Every thing you dream of... and more

We only spent two days in Fatu Hiva.  We would have enjoyed more, but Fatu Hiva is not a port of entry, and we [technically] were there illegally.  Our second day there was every bit as joyous as the first.  In the morning Chris escorted in a few friends who had just arrived to introduce them to the Chief.  They hooked up with a cruiser who spoke excellent French, and spent the next few hours visiting with the locals.  Oh how speaking the language helps to unite!  How I wish Chris or I (or both) could communicate in something other then English.  Of course it wasn’t all bonding, the locals spent a large portion of the time telling Chris and gang what they “wanted” … in terms of items they were looking to trade for (things such as hats, shorts, t-shirts, etc).  On Fatu Hiva, such goods were preferred over cash (understandably so, since they had no shops and grew or raised most their own food).  The locals are not shy about what they want and are quite aggressive in making their trades … Chris and I were definitely outmatched!  When Chris returned to the boat, we gathered a few items and attempted to prepare for the upcoming trading.  Based on some readings and other cruisers experiences we knew the following:  make a SPECIFIC offer, do not just show them a number of things and ask them to “pick”, as they will pick EVERYTHING; separate items so that you are not pulling out a lot of stuff … once they see something they’ll want it (even if they don’t need it); and be prepared for them to ask for things “off your back”!  From Emerald, we also learned that the kids LOVE candy, so we brought along a bag to dish out along the way.

Before tackling the trades, we enjoyed another peaceful hike to the waterfall, taking more pictures of the same thing, but never getting enough!  Coming back into town we went hunting for the Stone Tiki and Tapa we were thinking of getting.  Our first stop was for the Tiki and to look at woodcarvings.  They were all beautiful, easily making us jealous that we don’t hold such a talent.  Chris really liked the Tiki, so we offered to try and trade. Chris pulled out two t-shirts and a hat.  She immediately grabbed all three and then asked “What Else?”  We said “Nothing, that plus some money”.  But she had a quick eye and had seen another t-shirt inside Chris’s bag.  “What’s that?” “That’s for the Chief.”  “Let me see.”  “Oh, it’s just a t-shirt for the Chief [lots of pointing and hand motions to try and further convey this]”.  “Let me see.” Reluctantly Chris pulls out the shirt to show her still saying it’s for the Chief.  She basically takes it and throws it over her shoulder.  Hmmm, guess it’s hers.  They continued to ask what else we had … looking for everything from soap, shampoo, and perfume to shorts, hats, bras, and t-shirts.  We offered fingernail polish as well, but it was the one thing she didn’t [originally] seem interested in.  Finally we convinced them that this was all we were willing to trade for the very small Tiki we wanted.  Luckily it was accepted, along with $20 dollars (originally she wanted $60 for it).  Of course in the end, as I was picking back up the fingernail polish, she said, “Oh, ok, we’ll take that too!!!"  

There were a few kids hanging around and we asked their parents if it was ok to give them some candy.  Of course it was, but little did we know that Chris was about to become the Pied Piper.  After handing the five children a piece each, the parents stepped in for some as well, not only for themselves but also for the other two to five children they had at home.  Then, after leaving the house, the kids immediately ran out in front yelling “Bobo! Bobo!” (Candy! Candy!).  Kids seemed to appear from everywhere.  When we entered the next house (to look at Tapas) kids hovered outside the gate peering over with their wanting little eyes!  We obliged giving out more and more candy … and laughingly turning away the kids who were trying to sneak in for a second piece!  We purchased the Tapa for straight cash (phew) and were lucky that a few other French-speaking cruisers were there at the same time … it was through them that we learned the prices were “Tahiti” prices and that the “local” price was less.  I think indecision helped as well, the longer Chris and I stood there debating which one we wanted the more the price dropped!  

Chris also got a kick out of the stickers on the woodcarvings, which read, “Made in the original Marquesian way”.  ‘Er, how original is the guy outback carving away with a sand saw and other power tools???  A tapa, by the way, is a painting or drawing done on thinned out bark.  The bark is typically brown and the drawing black.  The designs vary from abstract Marquesian symbols to animals and people.  Our tapa was stained with ginger root and therefore is light yellow rather than brown (this is what actually made it hard for us to decided on, I loved the design but wasn’t sure about yellow instead of brown).  The design is a Marquesian turtle with the Islands of the Marquesas within the design of the turtle.  The only downfall is that it’s too large to hang in the boat, so we’ll have to wait until we are land based again to appreciate it.

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The Crossing - KT gives a day-by-day blow

Chris reefing during the crossing

We did it! We sailed across the South Pacific Ocean, from Puerto Vallarta, Mexico to Fatu Hiva, Marquesas!  There isn’t a day that goes by that it feels real, and already the memory of the crossing is fading, seeming to all blend into yet just another day.  I was worried of that … worried that I would lose the day-to-day emotions.  Looking back it just seems plain easy … perhaps a bit boring, but nothing to “write home about”, if you know what I mean.  Chris mentions over and over that it was “easy”, and while I agree, I think it is due to Luck.  I’m not saying that we weren’t properly prepared and didn’t do some very diligent planning, but planning and preparation can only take you so far when Mother Nature is involved … and when it comes to the weather, there is no doubt in my mind that we were just down right lucky.  Somehow we skirted dozens of squalls and lightening storms, we didn’t have any major boat system malfunctions, didn’t hit (yes, literally hit) any wildlife (i.e. whales), and neither of us were injured or seriously sick.  Other boats in our fleet were not so lucky … hitting squall after squall, water leaks into the engine, running into whales, a broken nose, and some damaged ribs are just examples.

But what about those day-to-day emotions?  What was it like?  How did I really feel in the moment, rather than looking back?  These were things I wanted to remember, so to the best of my ability (depending on seasickness and pure laziness) I attempted to capture a few thoughts every day or so. Looking back I noticed that I write most often when my mood is not so high … really it wasn’t ‘that bad’ of a passage.  Although I can’t say I necessarily enjoyed it, I would do it again in a heartbeat because the end rewards are beyond any discomfort experienced!

Day 1 (Thursday, March 25, 2004)

Lifted anchor from Punta de Mita at 3:28 p.m.

As we lifted anchor and set course “out to sea”, my mind wandered from place to place.  What would it be like?  How would we cope?  Mostly, oddly, I thought about the website, more specifically, what would I write about this day.  I felt as though I should have some profound thoughts … that I should be feeling “different” somehow.  But it wasn’t like that – it was almost no different then every time we pulled anchor for a new location.  I think it was impossible to really think of it in terms of 22 plus days or 2800 miles.  The hardest thing was just deciding to actually go.  This decision was made harder by a group of Ventura boats that we finally, after all this time, hooked up with … couldn’t we just stay another day?.  What most likely got us moving was that about five to seven other boats left that morning (we discovered this while listening to the Puddle Jumpers Net that afternoon) – they sort of motivated us to get up and go.

As we set sail, George (of George and Jan from Clare de Lune) gave us a proper sound off with a blow of his shell (I'd give you more details, but the type of shell, etc escape me ... I can only say it was a very cool deep sounding blow).

Day 2 (Friday, March 26th)

We made great time today, about 140 miles.  We also caught our “first” (meaning first the we’ve kept to eat) fish … a yellowtail!  I was near tears when he kept flopping around and seeing all the blood, it was so sad.  I know I eat fish all the time, but this felt so much more personal.  I said a private thank you to King Neptune, God, the Fish’s family, and the Sea.  I also promised we wouldn’t waste a single morsel.  I don’t think our next fish will feel any better (for me) … while it was great to have fresh fish, I haven’t felt like putting the pole back in since!

During my watch I spotted some odd lights ahead.  It looked like two separate, but really close boats.  Just two single white lights ... no red or green lights, nor any massive amount of brightness (as seen with lots of freighters and cruise ships), just two pretty small, isolated white lights.  I stared and stared trying to figure out what they were, and more importantly which direction they were heading, but it was impossible to make out.  My first impulse was to get Chris, but we weren't in any immediate danger and I felt like at some point I needed to gain confidence that I could do things on my own.  Plus I had the whole BIG Ocean to work with; it should be easy to miss (not collide with) those two tiny lights!

So I watched.  And with each passing minute that I wasn't able to ascertain which way the lights were moving, the nervousness built up in me.  It was like a huge knot in the bottom of my stomach.  Initially I thought they would go behind us, and made slight course adjustments to port, thinking we would pass starboard to starboard and behind each other.  But it just seemed they were getting closer and closer -- and still directly in our way (or rather us in their way).  Finally, feeling like any minute I would throw-up, as I was so nervous, I took off the auto-pilot and headed up (starboard) instead, so that they would pass in front (or we would be port to port).  Chris, being so in tune with the boat's motion, was up in the cockpit in a flash (knowing that I had changed course) asking where the boat was!  Instantly I felt relief that he was there.  I was also a bit disappointed in myself that I felt such relief, why was I so nervous to begin with?  I was doing everything right.  It turns out my last course change was correct and when Chris checked the radar the two small sailboats turned out to be a very large freighter moving at about 30 knots, less than one mile away ... YIKES!!!  Sure am glad I missed it.

The weather picked up a bit for Chris's watch ... breaking waves over the bow actually left small squid behind on our decks!

Day 3 (Saturday, March 27th)

Another speedy day (140 miles as well).  I thought I might be over my sea sickness, but after making breakfast down below, and later lunch, I quickly learned that I was not … and it is wearing on me … will I ever feel 100% again?  How can I go 20-30 days feeling this way?  It is depressing.  If I still fell like this tomorrow I will take something.

We saw a Mexican Navy (maybe Navy) helicopter today.  He did a fly by … actually kind of two or three.  Apparently they did this to a couple of other Puddle Jumpers as well.  We aren’t sure what they were looking for, but with a skull and cross bones on their window they were a bit worrisome at first!

We were also joined by a small (ten or so) pod of dolphins for a bit, and later in the day a couple of Boobies (birds) kept circling us – trying to land on our [moving] mast.  They are pretty entertaining to watch.

Day 4 (Sunday, March 28th)

Only 110 miles today.

I finally felt half normal today.  Of course there is almost no wind, and therefore it is a lot calmer.  I hope that I am finally getting my “sea-stomach”!  I still had a headache and don’t like to go below for very long, but it is a much improved day.  We seem to no longer be able to reach anyone by VHF, although we can hear people here and there.

It still doesn’t feel that we are on any major trip …although I was getting a bit antsy today and had to think, “Already?, with still at least 18 days to go???"

As of yet I have just been laying around – no exercise or stretching or yoga, or any other of the “great” plans I had for this trip … including web stuff and possible writing down my experience with the twins.

As for the other Puddle Jumpers … so far two boats have had to return, one lost their rudder (which I never even imagined was possible ... and by 'lost' I don't mean broke, I mean detached from the boat, goodbye into the big blue sea!), the other couple was extremely seasick for two days straight, and with a small child on board, decided to turn back to nearest land to decide what to do.  Another boat had to “stop” before departing.  They have a leak in their fuel line.  It’s too bad, Chris and I had just met them, and they were (are) one of the few cruisers “our” age … 30-ish.  We had looked forward to getting to know them better.  Of course the thing about cruising, or possible getting older in general, is that more and more people seem “your age” or close enough.  With cruising it just seems like everyone is younger to begin with.  I guess age doesn’t really matter when you’re hanging out with great people.

Something in me feels like I need to keep writing, but I don’t have much to write … maybe I’m just feeling chatty – after only three days at sea!  I’m sure by the end of this trip I’ll have driven Chris insane!

Day 9 (Friday April 2nd)

The week just seemed to blur together.  We are still seeing Boobies … being some 800-900 miles out; I just didn’t think we’d be seeing birds.  We’ve seen them everyday actually.  They keep trying to land on our masthead, which is quite difficult with the boat rolling.  Two days ago one ran into the running backstay (really really hard).  Then fell to the hard dodger, rolled across it, tangled in the lifeline, and eventually flopped back into the ocean.  He shook his head and flapped his wings for a good minute or two.  I really thought he wasn’t going to make it, but (thankfully) he did finally take flight again.

At the beginning of the week, we hit the “dead zone” (no wind) as predicted.  It was very slow going and the sails just continuously banged … very teeth clenching (literally).  But for the first time I wasn’t feeling seasick.  I couldn’t decide what would be better, to only go three knots and take twice as long to get there, but not be sick, or to get there faster but feel awful!

Wednesday we threw up the Spinnaker.  What a great smooth ride.  When I laid down that night I felt as though we were flying, so calm, flat and fast!  Just wonderful … awesome.  And QUIET – none of that boom banging or Genoa collapsing.  Of course the wind eventually picked up, so we had to go back to the Genoa, which for whatever reason is such a rolly ride.

Thursday night I barely slept at all.  And I’ve been having killer headaches, I figure it’s one or more of … no coffee, lack of sleep, seasickness, and/or dehydration, oh and/or maybe no physical exercise.  It is so hard not to be lethargic.  Lying around does that to you, and I have trouble motivating to get out of it.  Today (Friday) I finally showered and getting the energy to do that seemed impossible (but boy am I ever glad I did).

As for if this “meets” my “expectations” (not that I had many), I suppose, yes and no.  First, I definitely didn’t think there would be this much side-to-side movement; I really bought into the whole trade-wind sailing thing (with gentle rolling seas from behind).  Of course we haven’t (I don’t think) hit the “real” trades yet.  I also thought I’d be more sleepy-tired during the day.  Oddly I don’t feel like someone doing three-hour shifts.  Of course it does seem to hit pretty hard at night.  On the other hand, I didn’t think I’d feel so lethargic, so lay-around BLAH!  Now this will sound odd, but I also thought Chris and I would be spending more time together.  Obviously we’re always around each other but we are almost always just reading our separate books.  Not much talking and not a lot of games.  At this point I’m not sure if that is good or bad.

I’ve seen a lot more of the flying fish.  I always thought “flying” was just sort of a term … because they jumped high out of the water, or skimmed the water.  I never really thought of them as really, truly flying …. But they do!  They are quite a site, and there are hundreds of them … they are easily mistaken for tiny birds.  I never get bored of seeing them.

Day 10 (Saturday, April 3rd)

Over 1000 miles covered.

I would’ve given just about anything to stop – for just an hour even.  The rolling, my headaches, being tired, it was all getting to me.  I wanted just a moment of complete calm, complete silence (no waves splashing, booms banging, sails flopping).  It makes me nervous to feel like this with 1600 plus miles still to go.

I made chocolate cake to celebrate passing the 1000-mile point.  Surprisingly the homemade frosting turned out really good.  Then when dinner came around and I went to get the macaroni I found weevils … tons of them.  UGH!!!  Luckily the containers I bought work quite well and only one container was contaminated.  I’m not sure if they started in the rice and found their way out into the “open” or they started in one of the “open” (not in airtight container) boxes and found their way in.  Guess it really doesn’t matter.  Because of the weevils I hadn't put the lid back on the macaroni (there were some on the outside of lid of the macaroni, and I wanted to clean it before putting the lid back on (luckily none were able to get through the seal to the inside), and as luck would have it, just as we were sitting down to eat, a huge swell cam through and the open jar of macaroni fell over dumped into the chocolate cake.  With my mood of the day I could’ve cried!  Chris kept me sane though and we were able to salvage the cake as well as most of the macaroni.  It took a good hour after dinner cleaning out the entire rice/pasta cupboard.  I HATE bugs – it was not a joyful experience.  Chris tried to salvage the [contaminated] sushi rice – any other rice and I’d just thrown it over board, but Sushi rice is hard to come by and we’ve been talking about making smoked salmon rolls for a couple of days now.  I can still see bugs in it though, so I’ve quarantined the container, just in case they can escape (so far they haven’t).  I plan on “baking" the rice to kill them and any eggs.  The whole thing grosses me out – I’m not sure I’ll be able to eat it.

To top off the night, it started raining during Chris’s shift and into my second shift.  The wind was from behind, pushing the rain in, so there was no protected place in the cockpit. ARGH!  However, to not be all negative, there was a moment – post weevils and pre-rain, when Chris and I were laying in the cockpit, with the moon glowing full and bright overhead.  We just lay there, talking occasionally and watching the moon, it was truly a wonderful, peaceful moment.

Day 11 (Sunday, April 4th)

The sun popped up for a moment, but was quickly chased away by a very large threatening rain cloud.  Chris had just showered (finally) and we decided to raise the main to try and out run the approaching cloud.  Things got bumpy, I got sick, and the rain caught us.  But it was entertaining to watch Chris trimming the sails in his birthday suite (we typically aren’t the naked-cruising type).  The rain has been off and on since.  The ride however is more stable due to our ‘new’ course and having the main up.  It took most of the day but I am finally over the ill feeling.

Day 13 (Tuesday, April 6th)

HALFWAY!!!!

Day 14 (Wednesday, April 7th)

The rain and swell remained the last couple of days, as did my seasickness.  Yesterday I finally took some Dramamine and it seemed to help.  I woke up this morning down, the last few days of rain, and wet everything was getting to me.  Everything smelled like wet mildew/mold.  There was nowhere dry to sit and down below was too hot and muggy.  I was nearing the end of my rope!  But then, after a short drizzle, the sun finally appeared.  Clouds still surround the horizon, but we’ve been outside all day and the cushions are almost dry even!  I fear it won’t last the night, but am just trying to stay thankful for the day!

We were also joined by a very large group of dolphins today.  They were surfing the swell and darting back and forth in front of our bow.  Such cool animals!

My mind can’t help but wander to some of the things we (I) are giving up to make this journey.  I suppose all of life is like that … give and take.  And it doesn’t make me wish for anything different (unless there was some magical way to do all things and be in all places at once), but it can still make me sad.  Mostly I think about times I’m missing with friends and family.  Will all my girlfriends get married without me?  Will I not be there to shed some of those happy tears?  Will I lose touch – too far away to continue to be an important person in their life and them in mine?  And the twins – when will I see them again?  Already they are crawling and soon to be walking, and I’ve barely seen them … will they even care who I am five years from now – or will they run and hide, shy of the “new” person?  How will they ever know just how much they mean to me?  I miss the regular interaction with my family, but know that I can count on them to be there now and when I return (I do worry sometimes that I might be taking that for granted as life can be so unpredictable).  Yet, what events will I miss in-between? Will I be there for them when they need me?  It seems that in some cases so much is changing that I'm afraid I'll come back to find myself isolated.

Day 19 (Wednesday, April 12th)

Hooray, we crossed the equator this morning (sometime around 11a.m.).  No red line to mark the spot, but we watched the GPS position until it turned to 0o0.00’.  There was another cake (German Chocolate w/ Pecan Coconut frosting this time), along with Champagne, Jimmy Buffet, and … er … well … some things best not mentioned to the public (wink wink).  We thanked King Neptune for our safe journey and wished for safety for all those who followed.  We also dumped off four wine bottles with messages.  Just little notes with our boat cards asking for the finder to mail or email us … it will be interesting if we ever hear from anyone!!!  We have less than 600 miles to go!  It still seems ages away, but this was a great milestone in the passage!

Day 20 (Tuesday, April 13th)

I had quite the watch(es) last night.  It started with a book.  A kind of demented scary book, not a Stephen King, but one in which Stephen King praised as “Terrifying” … so you get the picture.  In this book there was a serial killer who was snatching up young teenage girls … I need not go into details because it was somewhat disturbing.  Rather, the point is that this book saddened and frightened me, because such things really do happen and unfortunately are not always fiction.  And I was truly grateful at that moment for being on a boat in the middle of the ocean, where nothing like that could happen to me.  Oddly, I felt safe.  Thinking about more, I was convinced that the middle of nowhere was a great place to be and that at least IF something did happen, it would be nature’s force and not pain from another human being … and for whatever psycho reason, this comforted me.

Ironically, I was in the middle of reading this book (periodically checking the horizon for obstacles, boats, storms, etc), when I became convinced that Chris and I were going to die.  A bright light came from what seemed to be nowhere, and was just mere feet from Billabong.  In that instance I knew it was over, I don’t know how I missed that large of freighter, but it was too late, it was bearing down on us and about to ram into our starboard side.  I had let Chris down, I didn’t keep a good watch, how did this happen?  How did I miss that boat?  What a fool I was to think that we were better off in the middle of the Ocean, this was my payback.  These thoughts and more ran through my mind as I jumped to my feet, turning my head to the source of light, and reaching out at the same time to turn off the auto pilot (so I could attempt to get out the way, although I was convinced it was too late).  And there it was … wow!  Not a freighter, not even lightening (which was my second thought, although there wasn’t a cloud in the sky), but the largest, brightest shooting star that I think ever existed.  I only caught the tail end, but this star lit up the ENTIRE sky … enough that you could’ve read a book by the light it created.  The light streaming behind it was inches thick, and even just the bit I saw was long.  I have never seen anything like it.  And [phew] we weren’t going to die after all!  Still, it took me a good twenty minutes to get my heart rate back down and to be able to relax again.

It was about 3:00am on my second watch.  This time I was catnapping between horizon checks, when newwwewwwwnewwww …. We had left our fishing line out and it was still trailing behind us, apparently we had caught something.  I practically dove over the wheel and over Chris (who was sleeping in the cockpit because it was cooler) to grab the pole and stop the line.  Chris (obviously awake at this time) grabbed the pole and started reeling it in.  What emerged was from a different world (perhaps from a Stephen King book).  It sent heebie-jeebies up and down my spine and made my toes tingle.  This thing, ‘er fish, was long and thin with the ugliest looking face I’ve ever seen, almost deathly looking.  It looked like a cross between a fish and an eel (fish head, eel body).  As Chris pulled it out of the water, both of us, in unison, yelled out “What is it???”  (Someone later told us it might be a Ribbon Fish).  Whatever it was, it was damn gross, ugly, and just downright scary.  I didn’t even want Chris to touch it … it had these spiky looking things and big ‘ol teeth.  Ugh.  Luckily Chris got the hook out easily and we returned the monster to the black ocean night.  We will never again leave out the rod overnight!

Day 23 (Friday, April 16th))

Today was a hard day for me because so many other boats have now made landfall, yet we still have two days at sea left.  Unfortunately we won’t be able to make it by Saturday night (before the dark), so we have to slow the boat down and are aiming for Sunday morning instead.  I feel like crying … I just want to be there, I want the boat to stop moving, I want other people around, I want land … I want, I want, I want. Come on girl, just two more days, hang in there!

Day 23 and 19 hours (Sunday, April 18th)

The first sight of land seemed wrong.  This huge black mass emerged from the sea like a gigantic monster ready to engulf Billabong and occupants.  It looked threatening, scary, and after so many days of nothingness, out of place.  We couldn’t stop looking at it, and our excitement was mounting. My God, we made it!  We are in the Marquesas; we have just crossed 2899 miles of ocean!  We’re here!  What’s it going to be like?  We sat in the lee of the Island for two hours, awaiting the sun so we could make our approach.  As the light emerged over the top of the mountains of Fatu Hiva, ridges and edges took shape, and dark greens appeared throughout the Island.  After weeks of reading about the beauty and wonder of the Marquesas, especially as one’s first landfall, I was disappointed, this is it?  But the sun continued to rise, and with it the somewhat dark and bland Island emerged into a wonderful paradise.  As we drew closer neither of us could contain our amazement, it was truly more than we could’ve expected or imagined, more than any words or pictures could accurately describe.  Fatu Hiva is the dream.  Hundreds of variations of greens appeared, crevices, crooks, mountains, hills, rock formations, banana trees popping up everywhere, and it seemed to only get better as we got closer.  As if that wasn’t enough, just inside the anchorage ten or so dolphins performed jumps and twists and played in our bow.

After anchoring, Emerald and Island Sonata welcomed us with fresh local fruit, we showered, and took in the sights around us.  We couldn’t get enough. We took a brief rest, and then kayaked to shore with Rick and Corby from Emerald.  Little kids helped us ashore in trade for a turn to play in our kayaks, which we gladly turned over.  Next we joined the village in watching a huge soccer (or Football) match that was taking place, the winner would go on to Tahiti to continue in the games.  (A neighboring Island boated in its team).  After the first game, and no longer able to sit in the sweltering heat, we hiked to the waterfall with Emerald and Island Sonata.  It was quite a hike, and we were continually amazed by the sites, it was truly everything I every associated with “Tropical Island”.  The waterfall shocked us with its size and beauty.  We expected cool, but not outstanding.  We swam in the cool pool beneath the waterfall and snacked on Pamplemouse (aka Pomelo) (a delicious local fruit, like a grapefruit without the tartness and bitterness, and a bit sweeter).  Hiking back, John (from Island Sonata) persuaded us to detour UP for further exploration.  And up.  And up.  And up.  Truly exhausted, half of us stopped in a shady spot, while the men ventured on, to the top-most point they could reach.  Could this Island be any more breath taking?  Chris got some wonderful [photo] shots, yet when we looked at them later, we knew that no photo or video could do this Island justice.  The problem with going up is you still have to come down!  At the bottom of the “trail”, just before the “real road” starts we took a break and swam in a fresh water stream.  By now our legs were in shock, after 23 days of nearly no use, this was quite the introduction back to land!  When I stood still, my legs quivered.

We were introduced to the Chief of the Island.  He showed us a magnificent bone carving he made from the tusks of a pig - such craftsmanship and detail.  He also plays on the soccer team, so we were able to learn that Fatu Hiva won the match (hooray).  I still find it a bit entertaining that the Chief's name is Marc ... not quite as authentic as I was expecting!!!  (We later learned that the Marquesian's typically take a Euro-Catholic first name and a native middle name ... unfortunately I'm not sure what his middle name is).

Finally we made our way back to Billabong, exhausted and near starving!  My only other wish for the day was an In-and-Out Burger!  At the waterfall I joked that it would’ve been perfect if there were a guy frying hamburgers at the base.  We settled for spaghetti instead and then drifted off into the best sleep of the month … knowing that tomorrow we could do paradise all over again!

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The Crossing - Chris summarizes our 23 days at sea

Pointing Billabong towards the South Pacific

We’re Off

On Wednesday, we finally left the marina to head to Punta De Mita to get our sea legs, finish adding the storm shutters/final prep and decide on a good weather window to get us off the coast and into the North East trade winds. We had recently heard three Ventura boats that we had been trying to hook up with all since we arrived all talking on the VHF within Banderas Bay; Clare de Lune (the friends we stole the going away wine idea from), Fifth Element (our dock neighbor) and Albatross (friends of friends). We finally got in touch with them and planned to rendezvous that night and the next day. It was great to catch up on everyone’s season and adventures to date. We were accused of NOT being real cruisers after we admitted we still had some wine left from CA. Albatross joined us the next morning and we caught up with their adventures and issues to date. She had been hit but a local jet skier and cracked/broke a couple of ribs. Liability is not the same in Mexico and she barely recovered her medical expenses, even though then had to spend a month+ in the Marina recovering and you could tell she was still in pain. I guess Mexico has fixed price liability, for example if you are killed by a bus your family will receive $800. Strange!!! We were trying desperately to decide whether to leave right then or wait until Saturday and hang out with our friends (sailors tradition says you can’t leave on a Friday on a long passage). At around 2:00 we heard three other fellow puddle jumpers exiting the bay so we decided to go for it. We are soooo glad we did (not that it wouldn’t have been worth every minute hanging out with our friends) but the weather window closed on Friday and the next set of boats had to wait another week. We were off, the hurried departure made it seem as if we were leaving for the next anchorage that was only a day away, the reality wouldn’t sink in for a couple of days. As we sailed out of the anchorage, George from Clare de Lune blew his shell horn and sent us on our way.

A Typical Passage Day

So what does someone do for a full day at sea, well to start you don’t get eight hours of sleep. We covered each night with a watch schedule of three-hour shifts from 8 pm until 8 am. The person on watch was responsible for keeping the pointy end of the boat headed for the Marquesas and looking out for ships and squalls (The squall part was added to keep the watch person sharp because we only saw two ships during our entire trip). A watch basically entails setting our kitchen count down timer (with memory) to 15 minutes (roughly the time it takes for a fast moving freighter to get from the horizon to you) and making sure you do a full horizon scan looking for stuff within that timeframe. The timer was our most important piece of gear because it allowed us to feel comfortable “cat-napping” on watch. More than once I fell into such a deep sleep that KT was woken up below and had to come shake me awake even though my ears were only two feet away from the buzzer. I think my body adapted really well to the catnaps, there were a bunch of nights I covered the full nights watch, because I was having fun, without any ill effects. I slept in the cockpit 99% of the time, only because it was cooler and I felt more comfortable there. I smiled every time I woke up and saw the Southern Cross. Even the squalls were easy to handle, since we sailed with a double-reefed mainsail at night. In most cases you could just bear off a little bit, blanket the Genoa behind the mainsail, roll in a little bit and head back up, easily a single persons job. All of this was made infinitely easier by our self-steering. We have both an electric/hydraulic autopilot, that automatically steers the boat to a fixed course, and a wind vane, which is a very cool mechanical contraption that steers to a fixed wind angle. We hand steered a total of maybe three hours during our three hundred hour trip, and that was to chase down dolphins, into and out of ports, and playing around with sail trim.

During the day we didn’t have formal watch schedules but still kept the timer going, because we sometimes got so focused on our books. Typically we had breakfast, listened to the net (which kept track of every boats position and their weather each day), and then read or played Yahtzee. Yup, lots of books were read, at least one a day sometimes two depending on the night. Most of them were just typical thriller fiction but as we got close I wanted to read up on the history of the land and people we were going to visit. I started with all the history in the front of the lonely planet books that I have on the area and then Blue Latitudes by Tony Horwitz about Cooks travels throughout the Pacific.  Here I am worrying about our trip when I’ve got full modern equipment (GPS tells you were you are within 10 feet, paper and electronic charts which when connected to the GPS puts your boat on the chart exactly where it is, a Satellite Phone to keep in touch with family once a week, a SSB radio to communicate to the rest of the fleet each day, and an EPIRB which sends out an emergency signal with our position so someone knows what’s going on when you have a serious problem, Cruising Guides describing anchorages by people who have been there, something to steer the boat for me and backups of the GPS and computer). What a wimp, my biggest worry was if the charts were going to be accurate enough (some of the south pacific charts are from original surveys done back in the late 1800’s without GPS so it doesn’t do much good if you can get within 10 feet if the chart is off by a couple of miles. I guess that’s why we have eyes). Anyway, Cook did three trips around the Pacific to CHART them between 1768 and 1780. This was back when there were cannibals on the islands, everywhere was uncharted, everything was manual, navigation was poor because they didn’t even have accurate clocks and there was no communication with home (other that via other ships). Their biggest issue, after making sure you didn’t crash into anything you didn’t know was there, was disease.  38 out of 94 crew on board died (and that was a good survival ratio for the times); the ships log describes battling a squall while four men died around them. Yet with all that he accomplished, Cook seemed to be a humble man, just doing his job. I can’t imagine the sense of pride and wonder he must have felt discovering these magical lands, especially after returning home successfully two times (he died during his third trip.. killed by natives in Hawaii). Even with all the modern conveniences I still felt incredibly small, nothing but vast uncontrollable ocean and an endless star filled sky.

Land Fall

We were about 50 miles from our final destination and I was desperately trying to spot land before our last sunset of the passage (so I could rest easy that night). I was trying to find the other islands that should have been to the west and southwest of us but the horizon was covered with dark rain clouds. KT jokingly said, “Wouldn’t it be funny if the charts were wrong … the GPS was broken”. Ahhhhhhh..  Aha Aha Aha …I said as I frantically re-reviewed the charts got exact bearings/distances. Just as the sun was setting and back lighting the low clouds, the rain stopped and a small sliver of land appeared.. or at least that’s what I convinced myself. How many clouds have you seen the rise from the horizon at a shallow slope? It started to hit me what we were doing.. We had traveled 2850 nautical miles and we were trying to find an Island that was 7 miles long and 4 miles wide.. Yikes!!!!!

We decided the day before that we would change our final destination to Fatu Hiva. It lies about 40 miles southeast of Hiva Oa and we would have had to been averaging 6.5 knots for the entire last day (which would have been close to a record setting day for us), to arrive before dark so we could comfortably set our anchors. Turns out the last night was probably one of our windiest and we averaged 6+ knots with a triple reefed main and just our staysail.  Oh Well.  I turned on the Radar and spotted Motane about 30 miles out and finally saw Fatu Hiva 12 miles out, EXACTLY where it was supposed to be at about 1:30 in the morning. Using just the starlight you could barely make out the island, which looked like a black sea monster with a huge arched back rising from the ocean depths. We hove to in the lee of the island for about an hour and took in the smells of land that we had missed for the last three and a half weeks. We were experiencing sensory overload after nothing but the oceans view and smells. The island was silhouetted against the sunrise and early morning haze as we approached our first anchorage. It was amazing to watch the detail unfold as the light slowly rose over the 2700 ft mountain peaks to the east. It was like a very slow unveiling of the most beautiful piece of artwork nature could have ever created. It was a very strange feeling, so many years of dreaming and thousands of hours had gone into the preparation for this trip, and we were finally there… 2899 miles, 23 days 19 hours of sailing later. I was in awe, I had also never thought about how it would feel when I first saw land, but I am sure that my daydreams couldn’t have done it justice. I wanted to stand on the bow and scream for joy. A pod of spinner dolphins appeared to guide us into the anchorage, one of them jumped clear out of the water (5-6 feet) and spun like a top (hence the name). It was as if the dolphin was acting out exactly what I was feeling. The bay was amazing with huge spires of rock jutting out of jagged ridges and tropical foliage, which continued deep into a valley into the center of the island.

As we entered the very tight anchorage we saw a couple of boats from our puddle jumpers group. They guided us into a good spot about 175 feet away from a jagged rocky cliff in 30 feet of water, it was probably the tightest anchoring situation I’ve ever had to deal with. It felt weird because we were so in tune with the boat from the passage, but SO out of practice doing anything other than sailing downwind. Both Emerald and Island Sonata greeted us in kayaks and gave us some local fruit (papaya, Pamplemouse a sweet grapefruit on steroids, and fresh bananas). They told us that there was a local soccer game (to see who would represent the two village island in Tahiti) planned for the afternoon and we were invited on a hike to a local waterfall to cool down after the game. We spent the day enjoying the fruits of our labors and hiked for at least 3 hours, not something I would recommend to anyone who’s walking distance had been limited to 40 feet maximum for a month. It was well worth it though and we crashed hard into bed for our first full nights sleep (although I did sit straight up in bed at 3:00 am wondering what was going on with the boat and why the motion was so different).

Passage Summary

All in all, the trip was much easier than I expected (and planned for), the boat and crew were amazing and exceeded all expectations. The most frustrating thing was the swells, which never seemed to materialize into the trade wind rollers that you read about. We only saw a maximum swell of eight feet, but they were always confused. We left after a period of light wind, so the ocean swell was from further away and from a different direction from the wind, which continued almost the entire trip. We only jibbed once at about 1630 miles out, and had a pretty easy time with sail changes because we went for the “simple sail plan” instead of maximum performance. We kept track of the distances to most of the close boats and one racer, who pushed his boat, jibbed frequently to maximize speed, and blew out his spinnaker during a fast broach, was beating us by 100 miles until he sailed into a huge hole for a day, they arrived slightly behind us. We typically sailed straight down our planned line, which was to sail to 6 o North 135o West, head south through the ITCZ (an area of little wind with lots of squalls and convection) and then straight for the Marquesas. Billabong loves being on a beam reach with the wind at about 130o. Once the wind got aft of 135 o we took down the main (which blanketed the forward sails) and used either a poled out Genoa or the spinnaker. Our best day was 158 miles (noon to noon) when we set the autopilot on a course, raised the spinnaker, adjusted the pole, and left it that way for 28 hours, we didn’t have to touch a thing. We battled a couple of dead calm days, which we motored through (only because the swell was rocking us out of seats). One day near the equator we only had two knots of wind but the current pushed us to two knots so we kept sailing.

There were a lot of squalls although the maximum wind speed we saw was 28 knots (20 knots apparent since we were going 8 knots). The rain was incredibly heavy at times but refreshingly cool. The toughest part was the uncomfortable humidity right after it warmed up again. Having not seen rain in so long (being from Southern California), I think we enjoyed it more than most. You could hear people on the net talking about being from the northwest and NEVER seeing rain like we saw. One guy even mentioned that he thought his GPS height of eight feet was accurate because of the quantity of rain he experienced the night before. We were usually treated to a beautiful rainbow afterwards sometimes a double one, which was made any discomfort well worth it (at least the first 20 times). I’m really glad we invested in our full bimini with a window/shade option between the dodger, to keep us reasonably dry while sailing. We will develop some side curtains out of 90% shade fabric, which seems to stop the wind blown rain as well and also allows us to see through them (we are VERY happy with our wind screens out of the same material). Sometimes depending on how into a book I was, I would use the radar and play with avoiding the squalls, changing direction slightly and speeding/slowing up. I’m sure I didn’t really avoid any but it did keep me entertained. We never had problems with lightening although we spent a night watching storm after storm pelt the fleet behind us, you could smell the ozone in the air. Boats had bolts of lightening landing in the water all around them, luckily my new lightening protection never got its workout.

We had all sorts of sea life decide they wanted to join us for our trip. First we found squid littering the deck, so I immediately put out my fishing line and caught our only real fish, a nice yellowtail tuna that provided a couple of great meals. We threw back a very weird deep ocean fish we caught late one night, which gave us both the heebee jeebies. After that we only fished during the day. Every day I would find at least three to five flying fish on the deck. They have very long fins they use as wings to fly along the top of the waves. Kind of like reverse surfing, where they surf the air pocket on top of the wave. We saw hundreds and hundreds, and I never stop laughing/smiling as I watched them spring out of the water in large seemingly frantic groups. We had one “attack”, it was early in the morning and I was awoken by a loud bang. In the dark I fumbled around trying to guess at the source of the sound. Then the smell hit me .. a strong fishy smell. I reached straight down grabbed the flying fish and threw him back before he met his demise. It wasn’t until the next day when I realized he had hit the inside top of our bimini and then the panel between the dodger. I didn’t realize they could fly so high. One guy was actually hit in the face by one during his night watch, and others hit in the chest or body; that’ll wake you up.  The dolphins were the real surfers of the fleet; they loved to ride our bow wake and sometimes the bigger swells surrounding the boat. The weirdest thing was the fact that we saw birds the entire trip, even at the equator where they were at least 1000 miles from land.  The funniest birds were the blue-footed boobies. At first I thought they had mistaken us for an island and followed us into the no-birds land. However most boats reported the same thing so my guilt lessened as we tried to keep the boat, bird dropping free. They would fly around the mast looking to land on the masthead or the spreaders. I would let out a horrendous scream just as they tried to land, and they would freak out only to try again five minutes later. Others used spotlights at night to keep them from landing at night. One guy had a “friend” for a couple of days and he could grab it while sleeping and throw it into the water, only to have him come back again and again. We had one crash land after hitting our running backstay. He came in low like a Kamikaze pilot, clipped the stay, and bounced off our dodger into the screen. We stared at each other for a brief second before he scrambled to the edge of the dodger and tried to throw himself over the lifelines. He got caught up pretty good on his way over the edge but finally splashed down in the water. He shook himself off for a couple minutes and after we knew he was ok we laughed hysterically at his misfortune. All in all our encounters were benign, especially compared with the two boats that hit whales. One boat glanced off one just as they were leaving PV and the other just prior to reaching the Marquesas. Whispers knot log was broken by the impact, Duncan actually cleared a hunk of rotting whale blubber out of his transducer a couple weeks later and fixed the problem.

It was so amazing to stare at the skies at night and I stopped counting the shooting stars I saw after the first couple of days. Some nights the phosphorescence made the water show better than the sky's nightly show, as huge balls of light would appear in the wake or beside the boat. The trip felt as if it went faster than I thought it would, we left and next thing you know we were arriving. I think we got “lucky” compared to others who saw higher winds, or more calms, were in lightening storms or dealt with bigger seas. A couple of the boats in the next wave of arrivals had bruised ribs, broken fingers from a storm that roughed them up. We are all excited to explore our amazing new surroundings and meet other cruisers that we have only heard/talked to on the radio.

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