We left Tonga this morning after the passing of a sizable front that brought heavy rain all night. Took a bath in the dinghy it was so full of water this morning! Left the protection of the Vava’u island group this morning after fighting with a little coral wrap with the chain. Dodged whales on our departure today. They’re the Tongan equivalent of deer in the highway. Also, notice how the boat in the shot looks like it’s sinking and that also it looks like a pretty darn flat sea? The boat is in a four-foot trough. This gives a nice sense of how hard it is to photographically capture the real feel of wave action. Wiley buggers.
We’re making good speed under 15 knots of wind abeam and moderate seas. Dark night, heavy cloud cover, with out tricolor the only light. The heavy cloud is from a trough that’s running NW to SE that we’re punching through. It’s bringing gray, low skies with some showers, but good wind to keep us clipping along and not too heavy seas.
Found that the towing generator wasn’t putting out any current and after some diagnostics discovered the culprit was a broken wire. The fix consisted of opening an enclosure on the housing and soldering new wire to the terminals, all on a rolling deck in sea spray and light rain. Now that’s fun! With little sun forecasted for the trip we’ll need the energy to keep the thirsty autopilot, chart plotter and refrigerator cranking, so it was worth a little nausea.
We should make it to Fijian waters the day after tomorrow, then have two more days of sailing to reach Nadi. Connecting from New South Whales tonight! Very exciting. More from Tayrona to come.
Well we spent our first couple days ashore hucking around Hiva Oa. There was the obligatory formalities to attend to. Our agent Sandra and the Pacific Puddle Jump made paying the customary French Polynesian bond for our flights home happily unnecessary. It was pretty painless actually, coming from Panama and Galapagos, filing income taxes in China with instructions written in Swedish look easy. We celebrated our happy crossing with pizzas out at a great wood-fired pizza place along our walk home to the harbor.
The island is stunning. Most notably it’s tall and lush with a sharp spine and incisor-like teeth biting into the sky. Most of the day there is a cloud cap that sits just on top of the main peak towering over little Hiva Oa. The town is cute and sleepy, completely closed from noon to 2PM. They sell pan au chocolat and baguettes in the stores, tropical fruit hangs along the side of the roads from laden trees. It is, quite simply, paradise. Days are hot and sunny, but it cools off enough at night. The Hiva Oa harbor is a little choppy. Boats are anchored bow and stern in good holding at 6-8 meters with 1 meter of tide. The main negative is the green soupy water, churned up from the rain runoff of the squally days prior to our arrival.
We spend a few days reconnecting with the world in the Salon de The, which also made great crepes, and did tattoos! All of the locals are tattooed in the traditional style. I felt naked and white walking the streets without any ink. Miranda and Felix fit in fine. The Marquesians were so friendly and welcoming. We only walked the 2 miles from town to harbor once in the several days of provisioning, water runs, bureaucratic fun, and internet obligations. Stocked up on bananas, rambutan, pomelo, and mangos!
Our last day in Hiva Oa we rented a tee-ruck and checked out the north side of the island, a eye-popping, perilous drive along dirt switchback roads over the razorback mountain spine of the green island. I haven’t driven in months! Just like Panama, a trial by fire. We explored a tiki site with carved statues of warrior gods on ceremonial sites where the Marquesians used to sacrifice and eat ‘long-pig’… vanquished people. The site, at the foot of the high peaks, all set about with ancient trees, made for a apt location to make offerings to the gods. Let’s stick with goats and shells though, hey?
On the 26th, after getting our four day fill of civilization, we set sail again, this time for closer horizons. Just south of Hiva Oa is Tahuata, a less populated (does it get less populated that 3000 inhabitants in the middle of the Pacific?) green saw blade with several leeward anchorages. Sailed right past the first big bay with twelve boats all crammed in, swinging on their anchors (suckers!) and in the very next, slightly smaller bay, with its own white sand beach, found ourselves alone!
We put ourselves in the water immediately with snorkels, masks, and spearguns, and didn’t get our for three days. Incredible clear water, deep, sandy anchorage to ourselves, and fantastic snorkeling. Also saw three manta rays. They’re out in the deep, so we went out one day, jumped in off the dinghy and there they were! We floated around, our curiosity of these ten foot oddballs outweighing the nagging voice in our heads that we couldn’t see the bottom in water infested with, according to the guide books, “enormous sharks.” Bah.
Spent most of our waking hours in the water. The underwater topography drops off as sharply as the wicked slopes ashore, making for more nooks and crannies than an English muffin for fish to hide in. There were myriad tropical fish in blinding colors. Speared a humpback snapper and a peacock grouper and turned them into some dynamite fish tacos!
Today we’re moved to Fatu Hiva, another lush, steep island with some good hiking. More to come.
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.
