Marquesas Islands

The last few days of any ocean crossing always follow a similar format. The plotter is checked on a near hourly basis hoping for confirmation of an increased average speed and constant guesses are made as to the estimated time of arrival as the miles seem to pass by at a near glacial pace.

3 days out our estimation was that we could make landfall in the Marqueses one night early if we have a bit of a push on and throw up the spinnaker. The idea of spending one night less out at sea was an inviting prospect and one that we all desperately wanted to realise. We would have to average 6.3 knots over a 48 hour period, which with the spinnaker up for daylight hours and twin headsails at night was achievable... at least this is what we convinced ourselves. So we hoisted the spinnaker and crossed our fingers for stable winds and fair seas. Despite all our best efforts it became clear that if we were going to make Hiva Oa it would be an hour or two before dark and would mean visibility was reduced to a point that would make piloting our way around the coast and anchoring perilous. We reluctantly decided that digression was the better part of valour and to slow down to arrive the following morning. Unfortunately we now had the opposite problem of trying to slow the boat down sufficiently to avoid and early arrival and sailing close to the poorly charted waters around Hiva Oa in darkness. We tried "heaving to" (try Google for a definition) for a while but the motion was more uncomfortable than sailing slowly so we decided to push on with as smaller sail area as possible.

Hiva Oa came into view at first light, rising sharply from the sea with dark rocky cliffs and lush jungle clad mountains. It almost has the look of an alpine resort due to it's mountainous demeanour, smell of log fires and peaks shrouded by swirling cloud. We easily picked out the small anchorage on the south of the island in the early morning light and made our way in past the break water that covers part of the entrance. The pilotage books all indicated (one of the few times they have all concurred) that we would have to use a bow and stern anchor to keep the bow of the boat facing the pacific swell as it came in past the poorly situated break water, which in fairness is little more than a dock for the local fishermen. We set about the well practiced routine of setting the bow anchor only to find out that the windless was not working, luckily one of the two on board electrical engineers sprang into action busily testing and disassembling, after many laps of the anchorage it was decided that it was beyond repair. Luckily we have a secondary and manual means of dropping the chain and did so in short order. Dropping the kedge anchor at the stern of the boat and getting ourselves happily balanced took another hour and confirmed that we were right not to try and anchor the previous evening with failing light. Having landed on Hiva Oa after 30 days at sea we were desperate to find a nice little Polynesian boozer for a few well-earned pints, sadly this was not to be the case. We made it into town at 2pm to find that the only restaurant was just closing, presumably for their lunch (they are, after all ruled by the French) and that the only other eaterie was a dry internet cafe selling gammy baguettes! This would not do at all! We googled the best hotel on the island and had them send us a car - a cold beer was only minutes away. The hotel, as it turns out, was situated in the hills above our anchorage with beautiful views back across the pacific the way we had travelled and on to the green Jurassic landscape to come, a fitting cross roads for our celebratory drinks.

We spent the next couple of days recovering from both the drinks and the proceeding passage before heading off to a small island south of Hiva Oa. Tahuata reportedly had some beautiful beaches and sheltered bays where we could clean the bottom of the boat or more precisely the area between the anti foul and the new water line. Whilst in panama we had stocked the boat with enough canned food, beer, wine, spirits and soft drinks to get us to Fiji after being fore warned of the outrageous prices in the pacific. This had the effect of raising the water line past the anti foul and on to the unprotected gel coat where in the nutrient rich waters of the south pacific encouraged a myriad of marine limpets to take up residence. Before we left we had spoken to a few cruisers that were in the anchorage the day before, they warned us that there was a healthy population of reef sharks up to 2m in length but we were not to worry as the were "harmless", not an adjective I would normally associate with sharks but no surprise coming from Australians. Advice in mind we all gingerly slipped into the warm crystal clear water of the bay and spent a very enjoyable day cleaning the boat, snacking on fresh baguettes and brie and taking long afternoon naps out of the sun. That evening we set sail for Niku Hiva aiming to sail through the night and arrive first thing in the morning. Happily on this occasion our timing was perfect!

Niku Hiva is the largest of the Marqueses islands and it's administrate center - Taioha’e is the island capital and holds 1500 of the islands 3000 population and a healthy population of cruisers looking to resupply prior to heading south to Tahiti and on the way through the Tuamotu atolls. The entrance to the bay is flanked on one side by half a mountain top some 300 meters high the other half having some time ago slipped into the sea below. This has left a near perfect section of a volcanic mountain as you would find in a geography text book complete with rock strata and vertical magma channel rising from base to peak.

We had been told that there were many sharks in the Marqueses but hadn't seen them until we anchored in Niku Hiva. We have seen several dorsal fins around the anchorage and then during the daily fish market the water is alive with reef sharks thrashing around trying to secure some scraps. None of us seemed up for a swim during our stay in the anchorage but we saw the local children baiting the sharks on the beach by wading in untill the sharks are close and then throwing balls of sand at them it's great sport to watch but you can almost hear your mothers voice in your head saying "it'll all end in tears". Thumbing through the "Lonely Planet" we discovered horse back treking was available and signed up. The next morning an old Toyota pickup collected the 4 of us from the marina along with Helen, a French national working on the island, with one too few spaces in the cab Adam and I decided to both ride in the back assuming it would be a 10 minute ride. The drive took us out of the "town" and started up the steep sides of the cliffs that surrounded the bay, at first the flora was palm, and mango trees with plenty of open space, beautifully kept Polynesian houses and gardens but as we climbed this gave way to thick tropical jungle, large hardwood trees and carpets of fragrant yellow flowers clinging to the cuts the road had carved into the mountain side. We were almost half an hour into the drive Adam and I were happy to be sitting in the open air enjoying the full splendor of the island as we approached the cloud layer, our mood tempered only by the prospect of a soaking as we were enveloped by the cloud layer ahead. As the road rounded the summit of the mountains the landscape changed again. We were now traveling along the ridge of the mountins that could be seen from the coast, with wide areas of grass and sporadic trees all thick with mist as we were still in the clouds. Bizarrely there were cows everywhere, every few hundred meters would be a hurd of cows feeding on the grass that bordered the road and in some cases climbing the slopes more like a mountin goat than a cow. As we started to descend the changes in landscape kept coming, the hardwood trees gave way to thick forests of pine trees, Adam commented that he almost could of been back in Finland, it certainly had lost all trace of being part of any tropical island. We had dropped below the clouds and the thick pine forest had quite abruptly given way to a vast open grassy plateau surrounded on three sides by mountains some 20 miles apart and the fourth off in the distance just out of sight, we were now inside a huge crater. The drive had taken and hour as we arrived at a small timber cabin at the centre of a hotch potch ranch complex. Horned cattle skulls hung on the outside of the cabin that sat in a beautiful garden with a mix flowers and vegetables and fruit grown almost wildly. There were six horses grazzing on the lawn being tackled up ready to go. The piss taking had started in earnest the day before with everyone agreeing that Adam should have a Shetland pony style horse and that I was and expert as I has foolishly mentioned having ridden before. Now however as the time to mount up loomed the jibes faded, everyone more concerned with not wanting to be the one to loose face or be the first to fall. Luckily the horses were placid enough, and after a cagey introduction we set off for the trail. Clodagh was the first to come unstuck when her horse was spooked by an escapee from a nearby field and charged off at a gallop with Clodagh hanging horizontally from the saddle, she managed to recover her seat and pull the horse up, she was shaken but brushed it off with typical good humour. We followed the trail for a few hours riding with varying levels of success, I seemed to have picked the laziest horse going who would take any opportunity to stop and feed and needed more than a little encouragement to trot or climb the steep slopes.

After the ride and on the journey back down through the varying landscapes to the heat of the coast we invited Helen to join us for a late lunch at the Pearl Lodge, the sister hotel to the one we visited in Hiva Oa, we enjoyed a well earned lunch followed by a dip in the infinity pool over looking Rafiki moored in the anchorage below.

We would have moved on from Niku Hiva had it not been for the parts we were waiting for from Australia. Since the electrics for the windless broke in Hiva Oa the large wing nut that is used to manually loosen/tighten the chain release had sheared two of the three wings. This ment our ability to anchor was compromised and we couldn't move on to the Tuamotu Archipelago, to add to our windless problems our outboard was at deaths door with a broken prop and a fast failing crank shaft bearing. This all meant we would have to spend a further few days on the island. Our time was well spent, getting to know the other cruisers we hoped we would be seeing a lot more of as we travelled through the comming islands, playing tennis, and catching up with internet correspondence. Not a bad way to kill a few days in French Polynesia.