Glimpses of Paradise
Five little vowels: A, E, I, O, U. How much trouble can one get into with 5 little vowels? Plenty! Across the vast expanse of Polynesia, there are approximately 21 closely related languages, and every single word in these languages is vowel-driven. Granted, a few consonants are thrown in, but this is done only to give the tongue something to grasp onto while it twists around all those vowels. Aboard Avante, we find ourselves staring incomprehensibly at the names of islands and towns along our route. We are not used to seeing a string of vowels. Our eyes have trouble separating them in the written word. What does one do with 3 or 4 vowels lined up in a row, each demanding its own spot in the pronunciation limelight? How does one pronounce all the vowels in “Taiohae”? To make matters worse, the length of some of the names is often mind-boggling. It takes a concentrated effort and a deep breath to go from the written word to the spoken word. Paharatakarari is located on the atoll of Manihi. Try pronouncing it. Paharatakarari, that is. The First Mate doesn’t have enough lung capacity to get to the end of the word. The last syllables rasp out unintelligibly in the urgency to draw a life-saving breath. “Pathetic,” she thinks. The men on her boat are not doing any better. Finding it impossible to remember the name of the above-mentioned Taiohae Bay, they nickname it Tapioca Bay, turning it into a much more familiar and pronounceable entity. We are told that working with these words becomes easier with time. The First Mate doesn’t think she has enough time. Admitting defeat, she begins to use such descriptive phrases as “the town we hiked over the mountain to for lunch”, “the bay we were going to when we lost that yellow fin tuna”, and “you know, the place we’re headed to tonight.” This may not sound very professional. It certainly is not very intellectual, but she gets her meaning across without all those vowels demonically knotting her tongue.
Nuku Hiva will be the last of the islands we will visit here in the Marquesas. Though all the islands of the Marquesas rise sharply out of the ocean, Nuku Hiva is one of the highest with Mt. Tako at 3,888 feet. Taiohae, located in Baie de Taiohae, is the largest town in the Marquesas and also the administrative capital of the archipelago. It is here that the First Mate is harboring a faint hope that she may be able to replace her short-circuited camera. Just any little digital camera will do, nothing fancy.
Friday, May 14th – We sail away from the island of Ua Pou. Avante is loaded with tropical fruit obtained in an old-fashioned and time-honored trade with the island’s English teacher: chunks of our freshly-caught wahoo for her home-grown fruits and vegetables. We enjoy a good sail in 15-knot winds, anchoring in Baie d’Anaho on the eastern side of Nuku Hiva. Initially there are only 4 other boats with us, but within an hour, The Captain notes the arrival of a “wagon train” of boats which has encircled our anchorage.
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The bay, however, is big enough for all of us, and the setting is lovely. We feel we are in our first real Paradise anchorage and intend to relish every minute of the 2 days The Captain has allocated us.
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Tonight’s dinner is going to feature The First Mate’s first attempt at breadfruit. Perusing her galley cookbooks, she finds that breadfruit’s culinary preparation is very similar to that of potatoes, and they easily substitute for potatoes in most recipes. “A tropical potato,” thinks The First Mate. “What fun!” The author of one of her cookbooks, however, is not as enthusiastic, critiquing the thick skin’s resistance to a good peel and the difficulty in chopping the vegetable into usable chunks. The First Mate wonders whether her galley has the appropriate culinary tools, for it sounds like a hack saw, machete and metal link gloves are called for to process the lowly breadfruit. With trepidation, she picks up the first of three large breadfruit in her larder. It’s hefty. Obviously, there will be more than one meal in this thing. It peels easily. It chops easily. Whatever was that author talking about?
The only issue that The First Mate can see is that the chunks must be parboiled before they can be used for anything else. Steamed or boiled breadfruit has about as much interest as mush, but sautéed in olive oil and a little butter, breadfruit is delicious! Served with thick slices of wahoo, it’s a feast for any tropical sailor. We happily indulge knowing we have 2 more breadfruit waiting for future meals.
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Saturday, May 15th – Our objective, today, is to find the trail that will lead us up the mountains surrounding the bay, over the pass and down to the small village of Hatiheu on the other side. Crew Mate Tom confers with a local woman and confirms that the trail is just past the old church and near a large tree.
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We find the trail and head upward following steep switchbacks to the pass where there is a fantastic view looking back down at our anchorage.
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The view inland from the top is equally impressive with the peaks like crenelated battlements projecting above the green foliage.
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On the descent to the village of Hatiheu, we are passed by a man on his horse. Sacks of melons bump gently against the rump of a second horse following him. We wonder where those melons were grown. Obviously, the field has to be somewhat near, but we have seen no evidence of any kind of field in or around the bay.
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The village of Hatiheu is located on Baie d’Atiheu. Hatiheu, however, is not easily accessible from the sea due to the bay’s orientation to the wind and surging surf. We are in an area of interesting contrasts. Baie d’Atiheu and the town of Hatiheu, where we have walked, can only be reached by land. Most people arrive by car. On the other hand, Baie d’Anaho, where we are anchored, is connected to the outside world by the rough trail we just hiked or by boat. There is no road. That’s it – hike in on the narrow trail or arrive from the open sea. That explains the ramshackle look of the home/shelters on that bay. They are strictly weekend retreats for those few islanders who are able to hike and pack in all their needs, but what a special place for them!
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The small town of Hatiheu runs along the coast. The existence of a concrete seawall and a narrow, rock-strewn beach give evidence of this bay’s stormy exposure to the sea.
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We stroll down the main street in town. With the sea on one side and the mountains pressing down on the other, it is obvious that urban sprawl will never be an issue here. There is a gentle feeling of peace and tranquility in this lush setting, and we are enchanted by it.
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A marae with its attendant tikis occupies a prime spot on the coast. These ancient stone platforms were built for ceremonial and religious purposes, and though much of the history of the actual ceremonies practiced on these sites has been lost, these sites still hold an aura about them. One can almost hear the ancient chants and feel the pounding of the drums.
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Across the street from the marae stands a more modern ceremonial site. Small though the town may be, it boasts an impressive church. Set back on well manicured grounds, the twin towers flanking the entrance certainly draw the eye. The First Mate is fascinated by the number of stone tikis that have been placed along the walk leading to the front of the church. She wonders whether this melding of past and present would have been tolerated by the early missionaries who came here to save the poor savage sinners!
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We have lunch at an attractive restaurant where we savor our first taste of “Poisson Cru”. “Not bad”, thinks The First Mate. She can make this. The restaurant has a small store connected to it. The First Mate strolls in for a look. She asks if per chance they might have some tomatoes for sale. There were tomatoes in the Poisson Cru. Thus, some one, some where, must have tomatoes. She is sadly told “no” while she is drawn out of the store to look at an old map. It is of 3 bays running up the coast. The first bay is the one we are now in, the middle bay is the one in which we are anchored, and the third bay is where there is a farmer who grows tomatoes! Eureka! If, and that is a big “IF”, the tomatoes are ripe and if the farmer is there, he will sell us tomatoes. The First Mate knows that she is going to hike over to that bay. Can she talk her compatriots into the trek?
We hike back up the pass where we meet a local couple resting at the top enjoying the view. They are carrying bulging backpacks and are heading down into Baie d’Anaho where the man has a small house. The First Mate asks them if they know anything about the farmer on the other bay, and they confirm the information that she had garnered at the restaurant. It is decided that tomorrow morning we will hike over to try our luck at tomato procurement. Returning to Avante, we relax with a delightful swim in clean, clear refreshing water. No jellyfish!
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Sitting with our cocktails in the late afternoon sun, we watch local children cavorting on the shore and paddling around on their kayaks.
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The next morning we set off for Baie Haatuatua, the third bay on the map. This hike is a relatively flat walk along the coast with a short climb over a saddle to the other bay. We find the farmer’s fields. It’s a haphazard sort of operation. We do find tomatoes, but the few we see are young and green. We find the farmer’s very rustic, open-air residence, but we do not find the farmer, nor any tomatoes for sale.
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We continue on through the jumble of plantings and jungle growth to this bay’s coast. The view is impressive and well worth the hike, even without the tomatoes.
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Here, too, the narrow black mountain ridges stand out sharply like the spines of some ancient disnosaur.
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We retrace our steps climbing the short rise that separates the two bays and are rewarded with a sweeping view of our anchorage.
Monday, May 17th – Captain’s Log: “Raised anchor and motored out of Baie d’Anaho, one of the nicest anchorages we have been in.” We are all a bit sad to be leaving this scenic bay and calm anchorage. As we explore The Marquesas Islands, we are seeing and appreciating their striking beauty. The bounty of the tropics is all around us, and with each unique anchorage, another glimpse and glimmer of Tropical Paradise is opened up to us.
Wind is light as we exit the bay and stays light as we continue along the east coast of Nuku Hiva. It is hot, humid and still as we motor onto Baie de Taiohae, the above-mentioned “Tapioca Bay”. It is so hot that The Captain records the temperatures. “88℉ in the cockpit, 115℉ on the cockpit floor, 96℉ in the main cabin.” By early afternoon, we are anchored in Baie de Taiohae. There are 40 other boats in the bay, but fortunately it is a huge anchorage. We had not expected a tropical paradise here, for we are anchored off the town of Taiohae, the largest population center in the Marquesas and the administrative capital of these islands. Our stop here is solely to provision and top up our ice. It is here that The First Mate is hoping to find that small, basic, nothing special digital camera and a nice local artist’s wood carving. This is her best and last chance in The Marquesas.
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Somewhere among all those masts is ours. Baie de Taiohae has none of the lushness of our previous anchorage.
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While The Captain starts the unpleasant task of changing the oil in the generator, The First Mate and Crew Mate Tom get out of his way and head ashore to scout out the town. There are 3 small grocery stores with the usual meager selection of fresh produce. One of the stores does, however, sell ice. Given the described size of the town and its importance in these islands, The First Mate had thought there might be a store akin to an old-fashioned “5 & 10 Cent” store. She did not expect much but did assume there would be a general miscellaneous merchandise store to service the needs of the population. Silly her! No such thing exists. Where do these people buy a bicycle for a child, a stroller, a boogie board, a TV, a camera? They order such items as needed from Papeete! The First Mate finds one dusty Canon camera, but it is the out-dated, old-fashioned kind that takes a roll of film which, even if she was interested in the camera, this film they do not have. Her quest for a local artisan also goes unfulfilled. The First Mate, however, is delighted to find a small open-air market just steps away from the dock. Here is where she will stock up on fresh produce for the upcoming passage to the Tuamotu Islands. They even have lettuce and tomatoes which almost makes up for the lack of camera!
Tuesday, May 18th – The Captain makes his own tour of the town and then returns to the boat for more maintenance. While working on the boat, he plugs something into a 120v electrical outlet, there is a spark, and all of the 120v outlets stop working. He discovers that the item which was just plugged in had developed a short circuit during our voyage. Normally, that would just blow one of the circuit breakers for the 120v outlets. However, this time, the inverter which provides the 120v power has shut down and will not restart. This is not good, for the inverter is a necessary component to our energy system. Not only does it provide all 120v power, it also functions as our battery charger when we are using shorepower or our generator. Without it, we will have to run the diesel engine to keep our batteries charged.
What is causing this problem? The Captain and Crew Mate Tom brainstorm various scenarios. It’s got to be a blown fuse. Which fuse, and where is the fuse? The Captain starts pulling the place apart. It’s not easy as a number of items have been installed in the boat since the wiring went in, and it is difficult to get access to all the wiring. For the rest of the day and into the evening, the search continues with no success. Finally, Wednesday morning, the culprit is found, but we do not have the right size fuse to replace it. What to do? The Captain installs a 150 amp fuse instead of the required 275 amp one. It does work for a while, but it blew that evening when we were recharging the batteries. We have one more spare fuse of this type, but it too is 150 amp. The Captain is frustrated, and to top things off, we’re in a crowded anchorage off an uninspiring town, and it’s hot.
Thursday, May 20th – We decide to forget our troubles and rent a car for some island sightseeing. On the map, there is a road that appears to encircle the island. We are told, however, that the paved road turns into a dirt road even before reaching the airport. The turnoff for the road which runs along the north coast of the island is hard to find, and this road is not by anyone’s standards a well-maintained dirt road. One person in the store says it is possible. Another shakes his head. The guys decide that we are going to find it and do it! Off we go!
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As we motor up into the gorgeous mountains, the air cools quickly. It is delightful. The views are fantastic. Our crowded anchorage looks not so crowded. In fact, it is surprisingly beautiful from this elevated perspective. Up high, the vegetation is thick and green. Wild goats and horses can be seen foraging along the way.
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We marvel at the feat of engineering it took to cut this road through these mountains.
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As we proceed deeper into the island, the road becomes newer, for we are approaching an area of ongoing construction. Great swaths of the mountainside have been covered with netting to keep rocks from tumbling to the roadbed. Occasionally, we see workmen, tethered to ropes, swinging down the side of a stoney cliff working to attach netting to the mountain side.
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Other than the workmen, we see no one else around and no other car on the road. We are surprised to find horses roaming freely along the side of the road or deeper in the trees. A small grouping will lift their heads to stare at us as we motor past.
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Occasionally. a solitary horse will race along the side of the road causing us to slow down in case it were to bolt in front of the car. They all look to be well fed and even well groomed. Are they wild? we know not, but they are certainly not something we expected to see up here roaming freely.
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About an hour and a half into our tour around the island, we reach the end of the construction zone as we bump from new paved road to dusty dirt. This is not, however, the poorly maintained dirt road about which we had been forewarned, for this is still the main road to the one and only airport on the island. It just happens to be dirt at the moment. Apparently, French road subsidies have not yet gone this far. We cycle down out of the lush, cool green toward the heat and dryness of the coast on this rocky, pot-hole strewn road spewing up plumes of hot dust. The First Mate muses that if this is how the only access road to the one and only airport is maintained, we may need mules for the not so well-maintained dirt road that supposedly will enable us to circle the island. Gradually, we become aware of a noise like the sound of a loose window frame. It starts low but quickly increases in intensity and urgency. The general bumping becomes worse. We have a flat tire!
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Belatedly, we wonder whether the car came equipped with a spare and the necessary tools for changing the tire. Fortunately, it is equipped, but we have reached the end of our exploration. In amazement, we now study the 4 bald tires no one had thought to examine earlier. How did we ever get this far on those tires? The steel cord is showing on both front tires! We are certainly not about to head out on the fairly deserted, poorly maintained road along the north coast. Will we even be able to make it back up to the paved road and down to town without another flat?
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In the heat and the dust, the tire is replaced. Slowly we turn around and gently make our way back up the dirt road to paved surface. Something about being on the paved road makes us feel a bit more confident. The Captain picks up the speed, and we relax enough to again take in the magnificent scenery.
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A wide open view into a huge canyon causes us to pull over for a better look. We have been hiking up canyons like this from the water’s edge. This bird’s eye view is impressive. Though we cannot see the river that runs down the valley to the sea, the fertile green below shows us its course.
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Looking back toward the airport and the sea, the road snakes and curves its way amazingly over these torturous ridges. Little wonder why most of these islands only have one main road!
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Our anticipated outing was supposed to have lasted the whole day. Instead we find ourselves back on Avante in the early afternoon. It was a great car trip while it lasted. Now what do we do? This isn’t an anchorage where one can while away an hour or so snorkeling in pristine waters. It is unbelievably hot on the boat, and none of us is enthused about a long afternoon and another night here in the bay. We had planned to leave the next morning after a quick trip ashore for that ice and the freshest possible veggies from the outdoor market. Our next destination is a spot of tropical paradise called Daniel’s Bay less than 6 miles away. The First Mate offers that “with a little help from her friends”, she can complete those last few items on her provisioning list, and we can leave now, today, this very afternoon! With alacrity, that is exactly what we do. At 1550, we raise anchor and bid adieu to Baie de Taiohae, aka Tapioca Bay.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
