Manihi atoll

Friday 5th may 2017
Our first day in Manihi was bright and sunny with little fluffy trade wind clouds. The shore nearby was white coral emerging from a rainbow of blues starting deep sapphire near Tin Tin and becoming ever brighter and more dazzlingly aquamarine by the beach. Whilst we had breakfast we could see two white fins with black tips splashing around in the shallows - three foot long black tip reef sharks hunting. Emily was out on her paddle board and got a close view of them.

Excited crew head off to explore Manihi

We set off with the dinghy to snorkel around the coral heads and saw fascinating clams with deeply wavy shell opening and iridescent blue and emerald green lips which retracted as soon as they sensed one's presence. The coral looked mostly dead, but there were some brain corals and a few others. There were Angel fish, zebra fish and various others. After lunch we went on foot to explore the motu (island forming part of the atoll ring) and walked happily under shady trees, spotting large holes made by coconut crabs and land crabs. Wrecked pontoons, pearl fishing equipment and debris from an old shack spoke of recent cyclones, the latest of which was 3 months ago.

We were soon across the thin wooded strip and facing the ocean, where the swell broke lightly on the reef. We walked out across a wide shallow area, disturbing a small reef shark. Emily later saw an octopus and more reef sharks. On the shore the coral debris is banked up by the waves, and amongst the grey bits of coral are old shells, one or two of which were worth collecting. Back on the coral beach we saw dozens of hermit crabs all dressed in different shells scrabbling around on the water's edge.

Later that afternoon we took the dinghy a mile back to the village, and walked down a long sandy lane bordered by rather elegant and nicely maintained bungalows. Some on the lagoon side had docks for their boats. Everything seemed very lush and green, and we saw rather inviting gardens with deep shade. The village had three little shops, one of which also opened as a snack bar/ restaurant at 6pm. We found the first store very well stocked with carrots, apples, pears and grapes as the supply boat had just come in. We loaded up and left our bags there for later while we explored.

The village has a nicely presented harbour, dredged of coral to look like a bright blue swimming pool, with smart low dock walls on three sides, and fast open boats moored bows to. Children were swimming in the dock happily, with a little one year old being looked after by his five year old sister while the mothers sat in the shade of a tree.

Manihi harbour

House on Manihi atoll

Emily chats to children at the shop

Once we got round to the pass, we could see the strength of the tide, and watched local boats with big 200 HP engines forcing their way into the lagoon against the outflow. A Commune de Manihi launch was ferrying from the wharf across the pass to the side which connected with the hotel and airport. A little square with seats under a big tree allowed people sit outside the little store and watch the boat traffic. Further on was the pink painted church that had stood out as we entered the previous day. It is dedicated to Saint Jerome, and marked 2013, so may have been rebuilt after a cyclone. The priest was meditating in the front row of the stalls, while we popped our heads in to admire lamp shades made of shells.

It was getting towards sunset, and lots of people were gathered outside houses and on the dock drinking big bottles of Henana Tahitian beer. We joined in the Friday evening spirit and, beers in hand, chatted to a group of fishermen on the dock. Tomorrow, Saturday, was the final Election Day for the French President so there was some talk about Macron and Le Pen, but nobody seemed to know what they stood for. We were invited by a man, one of whose ancestors was an English lady called Leighton, to visit his son's pearl farm on Sunday, and readily agreed. His wife is the mayor.

Saturday 6th May was then spent doing maintenance - Anne and Emily festooned the boat with washing, whilst Justin tackled navigation lights, cupboard door locks and dismantled the electric winch for greasing. I dismantled the aft toilet to discover why it was pumping into the sea when one didn't want it to. It was a longer job than I'd thought, but I found that the critical valve was jammed, so I hope it will now function OK. I then dismantled the instrument panel to see why that wasn't working and it was then 2pm and time for lunch. We made a foray ashore and I installed myself in the shade for a happy hour sketching and painting the sweep of the shore round the lagoon, fringed with coconut palms.

Atolls!

We set off from Nuku Hiva and, having left the dramatic spires and cliffs behind in the night, we had two days of glorious Trade Wind sailing with lines of fluffy white clouds, sunshine and blue water, and an 18 knot breeze that bowled us along smoothly at 6.5 knots. However on the last night big black clouds came up and gave us 40 knot squalls and torrential rain. This continued for a whole dark day until just as we arrived at the first atoll a few patches of light blue appeared and lightened our mood.

Deciding where to go is an interesting test of navigation, juggling distances, times, winds and tides. We have three pilot books on board covering the area and they give differing amounts of detail and advice for entering atolls. I had read through all these and shortlisted the places that seemed most suitable.

An atoll is an extraordinary ring of coral protecting a central deep lagoon from the pounding of the Pacific surf. Much of the coral ring is covered with coconut palms and other trees, but in between there are breaks where the sea washes through over the coral. The constant pouring of surf over the windward end of the atoll forces water out of the other end where there is usually a pass that can be navigated into the calm of the lagoon. However I found it tricky to know how best to plan this approach.

I'd settled on Fakarava as a first stop as it has a wide easy pass, but one still has to aim to make the transit at slack water because otherwise it's a roaring river flowing in or out and one cannot necessarily keep control. So when is slack water? Various books offer various suggestions, such as one and a half hours after low water, or at the time of the moon's meridian passage. All agree that it actually depends entirely on how big the surf is, pushing water over the reef. The next factor to consider is how to arrive with the sun high, so that one can spot the coral heads underwater which are a hazard to navigation, so an evening arrival isn't safe.

Having found the tide times for various atolls and looked at distances and times of arrival I changed our plan and with 24 hours to go we headed to the nearer more northerly atolls of Manihi and Ahé, aiming to arrive at midday on Thursday 4th May 2017. Sure enough, with a bit of motoring when the wind went light, we were there on time, and I was faced with my first entry into an atoll. High tide was at 13.20, so the tide was still flooding in for an hour or two, but as we arrived the pass looked calm past the jetty and little pink church. Beyond I could see white water breaking in rapids as it rushed in through a narrow gap between the coral reefs, but it didn't seem too much to handle.

Entering the pass at Manihi

Small boat harbour to starboard

With centre plate up we passed serenely towards the channel, waved at by several fishing boats in what seemed like a welcome rather than a warning. At the wharf people sat under an old tree and watched us go through. Ahead the white water reminded me of shooting rapids in a canoe. Aim for the V in the waves to stay in the deepest water. We shot through into the lagoon, and as I watched the depth meter it dropped to 2.5 meters - a close thing if the keel was down.

In past the fishing traps

Immediately after the inner reef I swung hard right and then we were in deep water with 20 miles of lagoon stretching into the distance. Good quality channel markers along the edge made it easy to miss the main coral heads.  As we motored along the channel we passed a shack on a tiny reef island which is reputedly home to a long-haired hermit Robinson Crusoe

Robinson Crusoe's motu

We were soon anchored in 18 metres of water on white coral sand a mile from the village in deep blue water just off a white coral beach lined with tall palm trees. Perfect! We had arrived in Manihi atoll, and were the only yacht in the lagoon.

Relaxing at anchor in Manihi lagoon

Farewell to Nuku Hiva

On Sunday morning we met at Yvonne's to see the village museum. Alfonse is the curator, and led us past an immaculate ex-secondary school to a brightly painted ex-primary school. (with a concrete road the children all now drive to school 45 minutes away in Taiohae.)

Inside was a very high quality exhibition of historical artefacts, stone adzes, pestles and mortars, sharpening stones, shell fish hooks, carved stone Tikis and most amazing of all a 500 tonne boulder shaped like a turtle (this turned out to be a high quality plaster cast of the real one up in the mountain), carved with superb petroglyphs including men, turtles and great mahi-mahi dorado fish.

Alfonse had for years been involved with archaeological research in the valleys and, in one extraordinary project, they had taken a detailed cast of the two boulders with the most spectacular petroglyphs and the cast was now in the museum. It explained an odd structure I'd spotted stored in a shed which might have been a mould for a boat, if it hadn't been such an odd shape.

There were displays of tattoos and the instruments used for the job. A photo of a regal lady in long black dress was the Queen of the Marquesas, and she was recognisably the great grandmother of our hostess Yvonne. Altogether a fascinating place. Yvonne calls it the Salle Patrimoinale (Heritage Room) rather than a museum, as otherwise it would be run from Tahiti!

We returned to the restaurant and were much feted with garlands of seeds round our necks, and sacks of pamplemousses, bananas and mangoes given by the musicians. They even drove us to the dock to wave farewell. We left a couple of hours later, happy to have shared time with new friends, sad to be leaving and full of wonder at the extraordinary islands we have visited.

As we sailed along the coast, the dramatic scenery redoubled its power over us with cliffs disappearing vertically into cloud 2,000 feet up, whilst jagged volcanic teeth gleamed green and black in the sunshine against the dark gloom of the heights behind.

Music with new friends

Anne and Emily discovered that their riding guide, Alex, was a musician and mentioned that we had ukeleles on board. In no time a gig was organised for that evening and when we got to Yvonne's restaurant at 6pm there was a great sound coming into the evening air.

We met Alex, his uncle Henri, and wise old man, Alfonse, playing a big drum, guitar, and 8 string ukelele whilst singing some lovely local and French songs. The table was already piled with beers to which we added more, and Justin and I produced the two ukeleles from TinTin, which they called kamakas, which were duly played, but not much by me as I'm still a clumsy fingered beginner. However I was pleased to be able to join in with many of the French lyrics which were easy to pick up, including a different version of "She'll be coming round the mountain when she comes!"

Best of all was to hear Polynesian songs, including some that Justin remembers well from his youth here. We were still singing "Oahe ite vaca" - paddle your canoe- as we sloshed back through the mud and streams to the quay later that night. Mid concert we broke for supper while the group played on, and afterwards I had a " doh, fa, sol " chord lesson from the experts. Justin meanwhile was strumming away like a pro.

It was very special to have shared an evening with Alex, Henri and Alfonse, and Yvonne said it was a rare treat to have people playing for fun. Normally they play when the Aranui supply ship arrived and 130 passengers come by taxi for supper and entertainment.

Alfonse was missing a string for his kamaka, and when we left I invited him to take one off our instruments.  Mark's instrument is now missing a string and I will have to ask Mark to bring out more from the UK when he returns.

Ancient trails

Anne and Emily were met on the dock by Alex with three horses with wooden saddles and rope reins and girths. They set off up the steep climb over the pass to the next village in Anaho Bay. Justin and I made the same trek on foot.

The concrete road out of the village ended and an ancient trail led up hill it was lined with rounded stones and had been carefully paved in stone too, with diagonal culverts designed to divert the rain into the adjacent stream. The route was disintegrating as it led up through the massive remains of old paepaes on which houses were built. Eventually the old track had eroded so much that little was left of its structure and we were slipping and sliding up a muddy rivulet.

View from the pass down into Anaho Bay

Eventually we reached the saddle and had a spectacular view down into Anaho. I sat on a rock and sketched while the breeze cooled me down.

Emily and Anne in Anaho Bay

Justin however set off down the zigzag path down the precipitous hillside and found Anne and Emily enjoying gallops along the broad arc of sandy beach.

I eventually made my way down, meeting Justin struggling back up. I also met Raymond, carrying a guitar in a gunny sack, walking over the hill in search of a guitar string.

Raymond setting off from Anaho Bay in search of a guitar string

Down on the beach, the tide had ebbed showing the coral which looked very dead. It's rare in the Marquesas.

Robert Louis Stevenson had spent very happy times here with his family relaxing under the fringe of palm trees, and enjoying the hospitality of the community. It was here that his mother finally took off her petticoats and stockings! There is a little church and a school both seemingly deserted.

I set off up the hill again and, hearing the horses behind me, managed with a great effort to reach the crest before them.

ANNE'S Journal of Polynesia: part 1 : the Marquesas.

I am having the most wonderful time sailing with Paul, Emily and Justin on Tin Tin in the Marquesas Islands in the middle of the Pacific Ocean

As I got off the plane in Hiva Oa, the tropical heat and smells hit me. I didn't know what to expect ... I am discovering the most deserted tropical volcanic islands: wild, covered in rich tropical vegetation, forests, banana and coconut groves. When the first settlers came through the gradual migration from south east Asia centuries ago there was nothing edible, so every plant since had to be introduced : predominantly fruit to the Marquesas and vegetables to the Society Islands ... All of which are now prolific with scores of different varieties of each.

The people are quite amazingly welcoming and plying us generously with fruit from their laden gardens and patches with expectation of nothing in return. They are without exception completely open and delighted to stop us, share and chat . Emily and I have enjoyed two different rides on ponies that abound in the Islands. At one time they were the only means of transport, or on foot, climbing over great passes to link communities. Through this and other hikes and two hire jeeps (over very rough tracks) and of course anchoring off bays with tiny communities, we have really explored and learnt a lot leaving a sense of enormous respect for a life still living very much on the edge.

All other produce is eagerly awaited from the monthly visits of the cargo ship Aranui who circulates around all the Polynesian archipelagos from Papeete bringing everything else they need. The "shops" on delivery days are emptied almost immediately of any imported fresh "produce "!  Apples are particularly adored by children, who are desperate for a change from their unlimited supplies of local pamplemousses (giant grapefruit like pomelos) and bananas

I can't quite believe that Paul has sailed all this way from England, and whilst meeting local people it is also astonishing to meet other boats of all nationalities who have amazing stories to tell ... The Marquesas Islands are the first landfall in the long passage across the Pacific after the Galapagos and Panama. Tin Tin has definitely the fastest voyage at sea from leaving "home", whilst many have been at sea for a few years or many more ..... Taking in different passages, different continents and different experiences.

What is amazing is the resourcefulness of every crew. As one pilot guide commented "almost any boat will do!" and that is the case : every shape, size and condition. There are few, if any, boatyards except at the capital Papeete in Tahiti. Crews of all nationalities are congenial and happy to share experience, advice, knowledge and lend or give spare parts, no less than the crew of Tin Tin who are skilful and ingenious in their problem solving and fixing.

Being a fair weather sailor the conditions are bliss. Wherever we are anchored there seems to be a light breeze, but almost every day and night there is intermittent torrential rain (it is the end of the wet season), hence the islands' lushness! If one embraces these downpours, they are a lovely shower to cool by. Walking in the forests or hills though is hot and sweaty and mostly muddy, and everywhere you are beset by voracious mozzies. Nonetheless one is always rewarded by a richness of plant life and views of commanding peaks and hidden bays. Birds are becoming more populous seemingly as we head northwards through the Marquesas Islands from Fatu Hiva to Hiva Oa, via Tahuata to Ua Po to Nuku Hiva. Each island has a small group of indigenous species and a few common ones (esp sea birds). There are no mammals, harmful reptiles or insects except for the pesky "No No" which are vicious invisible sand flies on the beach. I am afraid I have resorted to DEET as the only sure way of avoiding attack. Others have resorted to large consumption of marmite (Brewers yeast, which I had forgotten, does the trick too )

My only other regret was relying on reading the Lonely Planet guide of Polynesia on my Kindle. It is so hard to navigate a guide which isn't a BOOK! Much better to be able to leaf through a pair version!

The history of the French Polynesian islands is extraordinary: 130 islands, of which 76 are inhabited with in some cases just one family. The population (virtually an untouched civilisation ) was gradually obliterated from around 18,000 in 1842 to 2,096 in 1926 (i.e. in only one century!) through disease brought by traders, missionaries, and settlers. It is extraordinary to realise that these people (to us similar to pre-Romans 2, 000 years ago) existed in their purest form so recently in the world's history. There are many many Archeological sites, standing testimony of such a recent "ancient" past. Herman Melville's "Typee" is a great story, evoking life of indigenous people as the first settlers found them (which has been compulsory reading for all of us !) The islands changed hands between the Spanish, Americans, and were finally Annexed to France in 1842 when Melville (of later Moby Dick fame) was there. France takes the usual maternalistic view of its colony.

Now there is a population of 280,000 in total, most who live on Tahiti especially the young, many hoping to make their fortune in the bigger metropolis, thus leaving only 8,000 in the Marquesas and 13,000 in the Tuamotus. The former are still remote and wild, the latter becoming more popular through tourists visiting the clearest and healthiest reefs left in the world, with the idealised coral atolls, palm fringed beaches and 400 species of fish, almost all to be seen by diving or snorkelling.

We are sailing there in the next three hundred miles down wind over the next few days. After a week or so dodging reefs, we will head for the Society Islands (Tahiti and its neighbours ) though there are other archipelagos , and from here to Australia and New Zealand and Indonesia there are thousands of island groups .........

Hahahei Bay

We had rain, rain, rain all night, but thankfully it cleared by breakfast and we had a great bash to windward up the most spectacular coast. Great spires of rock framed by impossibly high cliffs disappearing into cloud, dark rock spines jutting out to sea, sometimes lightly coated with green icing-sugar vegetation, and sometimes bare, dark chocolate.

As we left the drama of Taipivai Bay, a huge tuna jumped clear out of the water ahead, and shortly afterwards a school of dolphins curved past, without bothering to investigate us.

The wind was blowing 28-33knots from the ENE so we were close hauled with double reefed Genoa, tacking out south east before we could tack to clear the northern headland. Once past the point we eased sail, and picked up speed. Another pod of very large dolphins joined us, enthusiastically leaping clear of the waves to view us.

We finally turned into Hahahei Bay, guarded on the left by what seems to be a giant troll's head with helmet spikes of black rock. At the far end of the bay a Giant's Castle of spikes loomed high above a little waterfront village. The sun came out and the sky was blue and the boat was draped in washing, most of which has had innumerable rinse cycles in rain storms. We went ashore in the dinghy to a little pier where we managed to lap ashore between the surge of the swells. Everyone except me wore long trousers and long-sleeved shirts because the sailing directions say that it is teeming with mosquitos and nouns. Last week Emily's nono bites were a shocking revelation of what invisible insects can do!

Tin Tin in Hahahei Bay

Walking into the village

The village was very charming, set along the waterfront with a little shop, a yellow post office and Yvonne's Restaurant. The latter is reputed to be the best in the island, so we booked a table.

Determined to find the local archaeological site, Justin and Anne set off up the road out of the village and we eventually found what we wanted. It was a very large Marae, or sacred ceremonial site, with a large flat area of grass bounded on the long sides by terraces of stone for spectators. At the far end a stone plinth was where human sacrifices were displayed, and beyond that a higher platform was where the chief and dignitaries would be housed. It was very extensive, having been built in 1250AD, remaining in use till the 1800s. It was rediscovered in 1957 and rehabilitated in 1987.

Emily admires the hibiscus hedge

Exploring the ancient sites

Back in the village as the sun set, we enjoyed supper with Yvonne, an elegant elder lady who had set up her restaurant in 1978. She had us four and two others tonight and served very good fish dishes with breadfruit and other vegetables.  She is also the mayor of the village.

Our return to Tin Tin was along the track to the port, which was lit periodically with street lamps. Nonetheless the walk involves wading across a river and sloshing through thick mud. At the dock a man was fishing and his wife was gutting their substantial catch.

The famous valley of Typee, Nuku Hiva

Herman Melville, of Moby Dick fame, spent time in Nuku Hiva having jumped ship and been kept prisoner by a tribe. His book, Typee, is an exciting novel based on his adventures here, and as is set in the next valley along from Taiohae in in Taipivai Bay. We've all read his story and as soon as our anchor problem was solved we set sail in that direction.

The bay is divided into three inlets by high rocky ridges. As we doused sail, a black cloud rolled down and the sea hissed white with torrential rain. We dropped anchor in 5 metres in the muddy flood of coconuts and tree debris washing down fro the valley. In a strange way it could have been a Scottish loch, with the high ridges swirling with mist, and dropping steeply to the water.

Tin Tin in Taipivai Bay - the setting for Typee

Our route through the Marwquesas to M Nuku Hiva

So cold did we feel that we used Rosalind's wonderful pressure cooker to brew up a nice hot "Lake Soup" for lunch, which it does miraculously quickly.  It is basically lentil soup, (carrots, onions, lentils and a bay leaf) but our family name for it derives from the days when Mark and I grew up in Malawi. Our family cook, Asafa, produced this soup every time the family arrived home tired and sunburnt from a weekend at Lake Malawi. Hence Lake Soup.  It gets augmented with herb dumplings from time to time too. Delicious!

The thatched ceremonial Marae

After lunch we clambered ashore on a rocky breakwater and waded through muddy tracks to the road, seeing lots of land crabs along the way. A "drift", still above water, crossed the raging brown river to the village where we inspected the church and chatted to various passers-by. The church was a huge open space under a high roof with no pillars. The side walls are waist high giving ventilation and some light. The pulpit was a large tree bole nicely carved.

Roaring brown river

Up the street we found a little shop and bought tubs of local ice-cream including a dark purple one called Taro, which is a yam-like tuber. Very nice. On our way we met Roy and daughter Lisa from yacht Mabroukha exploring in a hire car. The rain set in hard again and the road became a river, everyone getting drenched except for me with my handy brolly. We waded across a field to inspect a large ceremonial Marae, nicely recreated with thatched ceremonial houses in stone platforms, surrounded by carved Tikis.

Land Crabs & Tikis

Anchor's aweigh!

A day of unceasing torrential rain! Lots of hanging around - all getting rather tedious........BUT when Thierry the diver turned up he did a great job and unwound the chain from the old ship's anchor and we were able to move the boat to a safer spot. It was amazing to see him disappear into the thick brown murky river flow, full of floating debris, and then to see a circle of clear water where his bubbles brought the underlying seawater to the surface. Of course the freshwater is less dense and formed a 1 meter thick layer on top of the bay.

Then Kevin from Yacht Services kindly cane out to look over the freezer, stuck a bit of gas in it and concluded that the wiring installed was insufficient for the length of run involved leading to a voltage drop. Something for later. We started on an oil change for the generator, but then found bilges full of seawater so had to pump that out and worry about where it came from.

Anne and Emily did a great job ashore taking all our Jerry cans to refill. We had emptied all 200 litres into the tanks and calculated that we'd need to put another 200 in as we should have been nearly empty. Astonishingly there was only room for another 20 litres so our fuel consumption seems much lower than I'd thought.

Finally we are able to set off again tomorrow to explore a bit more of these islands before heading off to the atolls.

Imprisoned in Nuku Hiva!

I'm sad to say that we cannot leave this lovely island. Was it anything to do with the picture that I put up showing Nuku Hiva as one of the 50 worst places to visit?!

This morning, once the torrential rain had cleared, and we'd emptied the dinghy, we went ashore for fresh vegetables before heading off to another bay. I headed to the Post Office for stamps and to post my Custom declaration to Papeete. One has to take a number and wait on benches, which I did serenely for the best part of an hour. It being French, people kiss each other on both cheeks as a greeting. I got included at the end of the line, when Sabine, the equestrian lady came in, as she had given me a lift to the plateau yesterday when Anne and Emily went riding.

That was a good expedition because Justin and I were almost 3000' above sea level and had a delightful walk back down the road amongst ancient acacia forest wreathed in mists. At the lip of the cliff we had extraordinary views of the bay far below and then set off down the hairpin bends to the port. On the way I sat to sketch, sheltering under my new Chinese rainbow umbrella, first from the roasting sun and then from the torrential rain.

So back to our unfortunate detention on the island. As we raised anchor to leave there was an awful clunk as the chain locked solid around something. We tried circling it, pulling pushing - everything! But we are stuck fast with 45 of our 65 metres of chain out in 11-12 metres of frothy cappuccino river spate.

Luckily Nuku Hiva has a yacht services company and by the end of the day it looked as though they had found at least one diver who could try to get us free tomorrow morning! Whilst I spent the day on that and other issues the rest of the crew went off to explore.

I was pleased to find that Kevin of Nuku Hiva Yacht Services is also able to deal with freezers, so tomorrow we will tackle that issue as well.

Nuku Hiva - a gentle stroll around the bay

It took us some time to get ashore this morning as a tropical rainstorm came in just after a sunny breakfast. It half filled the dinghy with fresh water!

However once ashore we had a hot sunny day and, as always in a new place, we were soaking up all the new sights. The bay curves in a full horseshoe, and we set off to walk along the sea front, from one side to the other. It was Sunday, so we didn't expect much to be open, but the only visible shop was in fact open and able to sell us eggs.

There was a fine archaeological site on the bay, restored as part of a Marquésan festival of culture, with great stone platforms, carved Tikis of warriors as a copy of a house.

We then gate crashed an inter-island school Pirogue competition, with boys and girls competing in long outrigger canoes, paddling at a great pace across the bay and back, with wild - of encouragement from their colleagues on shore.

Sketch of Taipaivai Bay, Nuku Hiva

Sketch of Taipaivai Bay, Nuku Hiva

Onwards we walked past pick-up trucks drawn up in the shade of trees fringing the bay, with coolers of blue Hinano beer cans and music on the car sound system.

We had heard there was a café at the far end of the bay, but it was shut. However, higher up the hill we spotted pool-side umbrellas, and when we arrived there drenched in sweat and mud spattered from the road, we were delighted to find our first sophisticated eatery with a little infinity pool overlooking the bay.

It was a very welcome stop for a lovely lunch and cold beer, enabling some wifi time and even a swim for Anne and Emily. Most relaxing !

Walking back we passed voting stations for the French Presidential election with a few posters of Fillon, Marine Le Pen, Mélenchon and Macron. People thought Macron and Le Pen would be the final two candidates. Women seemed to be wanting to vote for Le Pen, with no knowledge of her racist policies!

Nuku Hiva - is this one of the 50 Worst Destinations in the World?

Anne has just shown us a new travel guide to browse. The Fifty Worst Destinations in the World !

It's a shock to find Nuku Hiva in it!  A nasty case of suspected cannibalism in 2011. 

Stefan Ramin, a 40-year-old German tourist visiting the island of Nuku Hiva in the Pacific Ocean, has disappeared and remains believed to be his have been found by a campfire belonging to a tribe accused of being cannibals. 

2011/10/17  Mr Ramin had stopped on the island as part of a sailing expedition with his 37-year-old girlfriend Heike Dorsch last month. He met a guide, Henri Haiti, who took him on a goat hunt – a popular tradition on Nuku Hiva, which is 930 miles north east of Tahiti and close to the equator. But when the guide returned alone he told Ms Dorsch there had been an accident, before allegedly attacking her and tying her to a tree.  Ms Dorsch managed to escape and raise the alarm with local law enforcement, who are now looking for clues as to the guide’s whereabouts while DNA tests are conducted on what are thought to be human remains near a campfire. Among the findings are thought to be human bones, teeth, a skull jawbone and partially melted metal which are believed to be fillings. According to a local news report, Ms Dorsch ‘told investigators that Haiti was trying to lure her into a trap, that it was absolutely necessary she follow him into the forest to help her companion, wounded a few kilometres away’. A German Foreign Ministry spokeswoman said: ‘The foreign ministry and the federal police are aware of the case and in contact with local authorities.’ The tribe suspected of killing and eating Mr Ramin had claimed they gave up cannibalism years ago. Local authorities are investigating but it remains unclear if any tribesmen have been held, or even found. Forensics experts say it could take several weeks to determine if the remains belong to Mr Ramin.

I'm pleased to report that our experience has been delightful so far.

Exploring Ua Pou

Jerome picked us up at 08:00, and we left Emily to go spear fishing with journalist, Alina, on their paddle boards. We collected three Tahitians from the Pension and set off towards Ho Hoi. The other passengers were a young couple who work in air traffic control, and a lady who tours the islands giving careers advice.

Jerome's Toyota 4x4 was worked hard during the day, as the concrete road would periodically turn into a rough slippery track, badly eroded by torrential rain. He explained that this was because the island was all privately owned in radial strips from mountain to sea. If the owner, or more usually entire family, did not agree then the government could not improve the road. He said it was a sign of the intelligence of each family if they had improved the road, as we struggled through some sections and then had easy going on the improved bits.

HoHoi Bay

Down in HoHoi we met a sculptor of the unique Pierre Fleuri stone. Th stone i coloured a bit like tiger's eye and has lovely crystals like stone flowers in it which are lovey when ground to a shine.   Justin said the sculptor looked familiar, and we soon established that we had met his neighbour and cousin, Simon, working stone in the same style in Fatu Hiva. He gave us a demonstration of his technique, and we had the chance to buy some nice small stone tikis in this unique stone. At 27,000 CFP (£197) each it was more than we felt like spending, but we were given some bits of stone and I gave him a London double decker bus key ring as a souvenir of a British visit.

Stone carving workshop at HoHoi

Streams rushing down to the beach

The sculptor's father was the model for the portrait on this 500 CFP note (£3.70)

New Caledonia shown on the reverse of the 500 CFP note

Jerome shows where pigment was ground for tattooing

Anne at the Marae

We got down to the beach where the special Pierre Fleuri stones get rolled down by the river, but failed to find one. The mozzies found me though, whilst I tried to sketch the scene! Finally we visited an archeological site, of a Marae or sacred Chiefs court, getting a really good idea of how it was used, and seeing the well worn stones where adzes were sharpened and where tattooing ink was prepared. A relic of an extraordinary complex society, tuned to its environment, but overturned by foreigners bringing new ways and new diseases. The Marquesans were in danger of extinction but "saved" by foreign settlers who were encouraged to marry in, so that one can see O'Connors and many other European and Asian family names nowadays.

Back in town everyone was voting as today was the first round of the French presidential election. We got aboard and raised anchor and sail and set off the 25 miles north to Nuku Hiva, getting there at sundown.

Ua Pou-The Land of Men

Friday 21st April 2017
Above the little town of Hakahau, the island's dramatic volcanic spires point skywards, occasionally showing tempting glimpses in a dance of the seven veils with the clouds.

Sketches as we approach Ua Pou in rain squalls, and the rock spires through cloud.

On the quay a group of lads cast their fishing lures out across the harbour while steady rain fell. As we ate breakfast there was a steady succession of elated yells from the quay as time after time they each pulled in six flapping silver fish the size of sardines. This went on all day as far as we could see and the shared elation was unstoppable. Into this arena paddled a girl on a stand up paddle board, with a bucket on the board and rod proceeding to catch her share.

It turned out that Alina came from a catamaran and, with her friend Julian, is doing a long term study of the people, customs and life of French Polynesia for a magazine, Geo. They do a repeat survey every five years to monitor and report on change in the region. They had lived for several years on Fakareva atoll, and were able to guide us with lots of local knowledge of the Tuamotus.  Julian had initiated a project to revive the use of sailing canoes tin the Tuamotus, and I'm keen to visit Fakarava if I can to see what he built.  We learnt that Ua Pou is called the Land of Men. As the tourist guide says;  Known locally as Enua Enata (The Land of Men), the remote islands are replete with powerful silhouettes and jaw-dropping scenery that inspired the fascinating legends woven so perfectly with the archipelago’s history that the line between fact and fiction is blurred. 

The harbour at Ua Pou

Ashore the village seemed sparser than others we'd found, but had a big yellow Postes et Telecoms building, a bank, an artisanal centre and a shop. We found that the artisanal centre had a wide range of jewellery, bowls, tikis, and other items for sale from local craftspeople, at prices that mostly seemed unaffordable. However Anne and I chose some black pearl earrings as a memento.

Meanwhile there was a sudden burst of music from the other end of the hall and there was Justin singing along with a long remembered Polynesian boating song whilst a Marquesan man strummed the tune on a beautifully carved ukelele.

Welcome to Ua Pou

The rain had begun to fall very heavily, and we were invited to hurry across the courtyard to the cafe, where a buffet lunch was being enjoyed by locals and visiting yachts folk alike. We soon had plates piled with rice, cooked bananas, poisson cru (raw tuna chunks in coconut milk and lime juice) in three styles, and a very tasty grilled fish and a yummy goat casserole. Outside the water level rose, drowning the road in orange muddy water.

Later when it all stopped, we waded out to find the Post Office shutting its doors at 2pm, so no stamps, and indeed no cash in the ATM. We found the church, with its pulpit carved as a ship's prow, very peaceful inside with three people in silent prayer. Outside we met a goat on a car bonnet, found another general store and bought fishhooks of the type used on the pier. I also found a Chinese made rainbow coloured brolly, which should be useful here, plus a machete. The shop sold me a file to sharpen it, but the shop keeper also offered to take it home and sharpen it himself for me..... so kind!


Our next mission was to track down some transport to see more of the island, and were directed to find Jerome (Jerome. Que? Jerome? - sorry only Two Men in a Boat at present, so rather an unfair literary joke) at a local Pension higher up the hill. En route we met two Swiss yacht crews; Jean-Claude and Françoise in Suditude, who had sailed from Panama down to Easter Island, Juan Fernandez, and then the Chilean fjords to visit Antarctica. The next couple, Tomas and Anya from Ribusta, had recently sailed back up from Patagonia. Very exciting to hear about that!

Here we found a terrace overlooking the bay, very welcome cold drinks and wifi. Jerome's wife turned out to be the Polynesian daughter of DouDou, the sole Frenchman on Tahuata, who we had met at his house there.

Jerome eventually turned up, a compact wiry military looking man, liberally covered with superb geometric Marquesan tattoos. We arranged for him to give us a half day tour of the island and then returned to the boat. Here we realised that we'd forgotten to take our rubbish into town, but a local man, Armand, and his mother, Yvonne, kindly told us to drop it in the back of their pick-up for disposal. Armand is a supervisor at the College Terre des Hommes, which has 200 boys boarding from all over Ua Pou. The youngest start at 6-7 years old but are driven home every weekend. For further education children go to Tahiti which is free, but costs parents the fees of host families, and occasionally to university in France when parents must pay.

We had a rolly night in the anchorage with no wind to hold us head to the swell.

A better photo than I got (courtesy of www.tahititravel.com.au)

Ua Pou

We set off at 5:30 am to sail to the next island, Ua Pou, some 65 miles away. The forecast showed that the wind should fill in from the east, but in the end it never got above 8knots, so we ended up motoring for 10 hours.

It was an extraordinary feeling to be out on the Middle of the Pacific Ocean, and yet to have 4,000' mountainous islands in view all around us, visible at least 50 miles off. Looking aft we could see Hiva Oa and Tahuata, and to our right the little island of Fatu Hulu. Ahead was Ua Pou, and out to starboard was Ua Haka. Amazingly we could also see Nuku Hiva 25 miles beyond Ua Pou.

An extraordinary cruising ground, thousands of miles from anywhere!

As we closed Ua Pou it's colour and topography slowly emerged and as we finally anchored behind a breakwater the clouds swirled a little, revealing enormous black volcanic plugs disappearing and reappearing high above us.

The Stations of the Cross in Hapatoni

We came to the church and were greeted by the large pastor in his voluminous white robes attended by parishioners. It was 4pm and they were gathering for Mass at 17:30. The church was peaceful and simple with all the wooden pillars beautifully dressed with palm fronds and flowered. The Virgin Mary had a wonderful necklace of flowers too.

We followed the Queens Road until it was blocked by a rockfall. I clambered over and found a faint trail upwards, and after a long scramble we emerged in the lovely garden of an elegant white private house. I met the owner, who introduced himself as DuuDuu He is the only Frenchman on the island and has built a house to retire there. Once on the road we were soon ticking off the Stations of the Cross and reached the big white crucifix on the pinnacle of the Pain au Sucre. Here we had a magnificent view of Baie Hapatoni and the adjacent one, where four yachts had anchored in easier conditions.

Back on board Emily produced a delicious breadfruit curry and avocado lasagne. Breadfruit was a bit like chunks of potato but a little more floury like gnocchi perhaps. Very good and very filling.

Exploring Tahuata Island

After our expedition ashore at Motopu Bay we set off round to Hanamoenoa Bay, reputed to be one of the top three in the world by sailing writer Eric Hiscox. (Sorry if I have repeated myself!).
The NW wind had abated and the bay was calmer than when we passed it yesterday.

We followed Oceana I in and anchored in 12m dragging at first and bringing up a whole coral head to my shame.  There were six yachts already anchored, and nine by nightfall. However we were the only ones to brave the surf and head for the great strip of golden sand. Anne swimming, Emily on Dora (her paddle board) and Anne swimming. We picked our waves carefully and landed OK. The beach, backed by palm trees, was spectacular with the mountains rising up behind. Clearly with so many yachts visiting the locals feel invaded.  We didn't venture into the hamlet as there were "Privé" signs.

The following morning after a chilly night we snorkelled round the cliffs which was rather cloudy , but we still saw some lovely fish - electric blue, yellow, zebra.  We then scrubbed the waterline to give a clean look to Tin Tin. Other yachts soon followed suit! Justin kindly scrubbed the dinghy cover too.

I had a happy time sketching the bay before lunch - one of my better ones I feel.

Baie Hanamoenoa, Tahaa Island, Marquesas

Later we set off in sudden rainstorms towards Hataponi Bay.  Here we found a really difficult anchorage on steeply sloping bottom, so that we dropped anchor in 20 metres of water, but with 60m of chain out we were soon in 8metres of water just outside the surf line which was then crashing onto big boulders.

Tin Tin at anchor off the rocks in Hapatoni Bay.

Once secure we went shorewards via a little harbour and met several people including a man on horseback with a wooden saddle.   There were a number of colourful pirogues and a ferry up on chocks called the Tahuata Nui.

Tin Tin outside Hataponi harbour

The waterfront had a promenade called the Royal Road built many years ago for Queen Vaekehu II. It is a massive stone causeway along the seafront reminiscent of that built by Queen Victoria on the Isle of Wight from Osborne House.

The Queen's Road

Wall building

Traditional house with woven mat walls

We came to the church and were greeted by the large pastor in his voluminous white robes attended by parishioners. It was 4pm and they were gathering for Mass at 5:30. The church was peaceful and simple with all the wooden pillars beautifully dressed with palm fronds and flowered. The Virgin Mary had a wonderful necklace of flowers too.

Parishioners gather outside the church before Mass, Hapatoni

Beautifully carved table with games boards.

The altar in Hapatoni church

At the far end the Royal Road peters out into a rough track overgrown with palm and tamanu trees.   Then there's rockfall across it, caused by the careless building of a more modern road above, which ignored the 19th century heritage below. I clambered over and found a faint trail upwards, and after a long scramble we emerged in the lovely garden of an elegant white private house. I met the owner, looking like a castaway in a ripped singlet with his dog at his heels, who introduced himself as DuuDuu. He is the only Frenchman on the island and has built a house to retire there. He told us that his wife lives in Ua Pou - our next port of call.

Once out of his garden, we followed the new track up the hillside along which had been established the Stations of the Cross in simple wooden crucifixes.  We finally reached the big white crucifix on the pinnacle of the Pain au Sucre. Here we had a magnificent view of Baie Hapatoni and the adjacent one, where four yachts had anchored in easier conditions.

At the Pain au Sucre above Hapatoni Bay (Tin Tin in the distance)

The shrine at the Pain au Sucre pinnacle

Back on board, after listening to the sound of singing and drums across the water from Mass, Emily produced a delicious breadfruit curry and avocado lasagne. Breadfruit was a bit like chunks of potato but a little more floury like gnocchi perhaps. Very good and very filling.