Tayrona sails from Panama City to Hiva Oa, Marquesas in just under twenty-four days of beautiful South Pacific weather on the Coconut Milk Run! Almost a month out on the high seas and what do we have to show for it? This fancy video for starters!
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LAND HO! Day 23 at sea and we’ve made it to Hiva Oa! Some heavy squalls last night and this morning too. Woke to dark cliffs off our starboard, visible only occasionally when the clouds broke. Miranda went topside to get something, came back down to the berth with wide eyes. “There’s more yellow than black on the radar.” Yellow is land, boats, and rain return. Black is open sea. On the radar we’re surrounded by islands. It’s a little intimidating after having, literally, ALL the sea room in the world to navigate for a month, to suddenly be penned in with three rocky shored islands that you can only kind of see.
Once we were four miles from the harbor the squall line passed and we were left with heavy broken skies, an a double rainbow, exactly like our arrival in Galapagos. Pretty spectacular. Great green cliffs pouring with waterfalls rising from the rain clouds. Sharp volcanic peaks perpetually topped with a cap of clouds, clinging to the vegetation.
We rounded the green light at the break wall and found a spot amidst the sheltering boats to anchor. Everyone is anchored bow and stern to admit more boats into the tiny harbor. Daniel, our Swedish friend with a Lagoon 380 who we met in Panama, came zipping over in his inflatable and graciously brought our stern anchor out to drop. We’re anchored next to other friends, Wayne and Dana, on Journey, also from a meeting in Panama.
Made plans with our immigration agent, Sandra, for getting the bureaucratic work done the following day. Then we put the dinghy in the water and went ashore! Land! Sweet land! We walked the couple of miles into the tiny town. Our first stop, the French bakery! We bought a baguette, cucumbers, tomatoes, and the last four pan au chocolat! Perfect! Ate sitting in the shade watching the Marqueseans watch us as they passed.
Filled water tanks, the water a little turbid, but apparently still good to drink. Went for a run up and up and up a winding road into the steep hills. The legs will be sore tomorrow. Went out for pizzas to celebrate and got a ride back to the harbor with a massive, tattooed warrior of a Marquesian named Humu who we spoke to in broken French and English. Back to the boat in the dark for the first uninterrupted night of sleep in three weeks.
Made it, made it, made it.
Day 23 at sea.
Woke to a gun metal gray sky today, 20 knots of wind from astern, with large rollers and chop. Made for a rocky ride. At one point our trolling line was aimed about twenty degrees up from our stern to an oncoming wave. Fishing uphill is never a good thing. Regardless, Tayrona is scooting along happily under a lone headsail, snatch block out to the side to open the sail. Now a bit clearer.
Tried to get the boat presentable for port inspection today. Cleaned inside and out. It’s amazing how much girl hair gets evenly distributed around. Eew… The boat is, however, so much cleaner than it would be in three weeks at anchor with crew inadvertently dragging land dirt from shore on our shoes and bodies. Double eew… Sometimes there are benefits to being out at sea. The heavier seas made the task really fun. Lot of sloshing, and even a little nausea despite our weeks of training.
I feel a little torn about our arrival. This passage was one of the highlights of the whole sailing trip that I’ve anticipated the most. Three weeks plus out on the open ocean, and now we’re nearing the end of it. I’m excited to hike the green hills of Hiva Oa, eat fresh fruit and a good burger, and get back into spear fishing shape. (It’s amazing that we only swam twice in three weeks aboard!) Strange as it sounds though, after 24 days without sight of land, with onions and carrots rolling away from you while you’re trying to cook, deprivation of fresh fruits and veggies, 2AM squally night watches, and never walking more than 10 meters at a time, I’m really sorry to see it over. Man that’s messed up.
Sunrise, and landfall in six hours.
