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Our Big Arrival Day in Atuona, Hiva Oa (Marquesas) May 25, 2102

It was just before sunrise when we rounded the eastern tip of Hiva Oa and started our motor sail down the south side of the island. For the next 3 hours we were treated to astonishing views of sheer, steep, tropical vegetation-covered cliffs that plunged straight down to the ocean. Waves crashed against them, sending up plumes of water, while frigate birds and white tropic birds flew overhead. The closest thing I can compare it to is the Napili coast of Kauai.

As we watched this scene go by, we began to get whiffs of this amazing smell. I expected an earthy smell like Hawaii has, but this was different. I would describe it as the smell of Pier One Imports, but more precisely the opening day of a Pier One Imports when all the merchandise is new and the packing crates are still around, sort of a perfume-y, bamboo, straw smell. It smelled wonderful. As we neared our anchorage at Atuona we saw the steepest mountain of all, 3,500 feet straight down.

We had been warned by our friend Dean that the anchorage was busy; so when we arrived and saw all the masts, we were a bit disappointed but mentally prepared. We went in and found about 15 boats there, all bow and stern anchored. Luckily, we managed to find a spot, and when we were hook down we could finally enjoy our surroundings.

This is a beautiful bay surrounded by hills covered with lush tropical growth, a gray-sand beach lined with palm trees, and water that’s green and black. It’s not a good place for swimming: there’s little visibility through the water and it is known to have sharks. The fact that there are a lot of boats here (and probably no holding tank usage) is reason enough for me to stay out of the water.

Our disappointment about the number of people in the anchorage didn’t last as this is a remarkably nice group of people. It’s nice to land somewhere and get all the news on where to buy things, what’s fun to do, and “talk story.” I had theorized before we came that most of the 150 boats or so from Mexico would be well ahead of us. I was right, but what I didn’t realize was the number of people who come from Panama and the Galapagos; there are a lot of them and they are still arriving. New boats come in every day, but boats also leave every day (we now have about 20 boats here).

We celebrated our arrival with some rum, so happy to be here and done with the passage (I’ll write more about that later). We then ended up busy getting settled and putting things away, helping Dean bring his boat in here and get re-anchored (he had originally anchored outside the bay), and other odds and ends. We ended up napping a bit in the hot afternoon, then coming back to life around 4pm. At 5:30, Rich got on the Sea Seafarer’s net to let them know we were in, and then we were free to go to dinner. We always try to treat ourselves to a nice dinner in town after any crossing, and Dean had a place in mind, one of two restaurants in town.

It was near dusk when Dean picked us up in his dinghy and headed over to the dinghy dock. Rich and I were a little out of it, still short on sleep and a little overwhelmed with going on land. I had somehow expected a real dock and was surprised when he pulled up to two slabs of concrete, the lowest of which was nearly a foot under water, and the higher one maybe 6 inches below. Water surged and swirled over them, and they had a rough, pebbled surface that looked like it might be covered with slippery growth. Did he want us to step off on that? Where was the real dinghy dock? It’s been a long time since I’ve been cruising and making more “rustic” sorts of landings. Well, it was time to get back in the saddle.

I took off my shoes, clambered to the front part of the dinghy, and Dean pulled up near the lower slab, being careful not to end up on top of it in the surging water. When the timing looked good, I went for it and landed well, glad the slab was neither too rough or too slippery as I walked over it in bare feet. That adventure done, it was time for the next one: the mile or so walk to town. It was warm and humid, like walking through Jurassic Park, only with a fair number of cars going by. We were walking on the road and as we had to go off whenever a car passed, I was glad there were no snakes to think about.

The restaurant was simple but nice, with things like pizza, steak, fish and chicken dishes, actually a surprising amount of food, and what turned out to be very good food. Dean got pizza, and Rich and I split steak and poisson cru, a specialty in French Polynesia that has raw fish and cut up vegetables in a coconut milk base, much like ceviche in Mexico. We all had the local Hinano beer.

The residents of Hiva Oa speak French, and there is very little English, but we managed with my nearly-forgotten high school French and pointing. Figuring out how much things actually cost in dollars was an exercise in thinking, and none of us knew if we needed to tip. Our waitress seemed quite happy when we gave her the 15 % tip (figuring it’s better to be safe than sorry). It wasn’t surprising to find out later that you don’t really need to tip here; oh well. It was nice to find out the owner of the restaurant will give cruisers a free ride back to the anchorage!

Back at the dinghy dock, we found it was now even more underwater! Wading through knee-deep surging water and getting into the moving dinghy was quite an adventure. The timing was off for poor Rich, who ended up half falling in the water. Well, more clothes for the laundry bag. We got back to the boat, rinsed off, and weren’t awake long as the long day caught up with us.

The next morning we woke up just before dawn to an amazing din outside. It sounded like there was suddenly a stadium nearby, full of screaming World Cup Soccer fans, topped by the sound of whooping Indian tribes galloping into battle. We were both up trying to figure out what in the world this was when we realized this is the sound you hear when tens of thousands of roosters crow throughout the hills around you. Wild chickens thrive here, and in the morning; it shows. Luckily, when we’re on the boat, we’re naturally early risers. This would not be a good place for a late sleeper. -Cyndi

Boobie Greeting (Passage to the Marquesas)

Rich: Here we are in Hiva Oa, settling in. We’ll try to start posting more, with pictures, as we know have some internet access. To start with, here’s Cyndi’s account of our excitement on our arrival morning and a picture of the rainbow that welcomed us into Atuona Bay where we are now anchored.

May 25, 2012

Cyndi: I was on watch until 5am boat time (we had only changed our clock by an hour so far and weren’t on Marquesas time yet).  It was dark and we were about 6 miles from the south end of the island where we’d make our turn and sail along the south side of Hiva Oa to our anchorage. The conditions had magically calmed overnight, the wind dying down to about 10 knots and the swell easing up, slowing the boat so we could make our approach in the daylight. I was excited about getting in and hadn’t slept well earlier, and now I was very tired as I woke Rich up for his watch.

Rich took over the watch, and I went to bed and fell into a fitful sleep.  I kept dreaming that Rich was having trouble starting the boat, and I’d wake up at any strange noise. Finally I was more deeply asleep when I heard Rich yell, “Hey!!!” about as loud as a person can yell that word.  I shot up out of bed to take action on whatever emergency we were having, asking what was going on.  Rich said, “There’s a boobie in our boat.”  “What?”  Then I heard this flopping around like a large, live fish on the floor.  I later found out that Rich heard something in the cockpit, then saw a boobie perched at the companionway looking to come in.  He yelled at it hoping to scare it off, but instead that seemed to encourage it to come on in!  Bobbies have legs and feet and can walk, but this one apparently forgot that as soon as he landed in our boat, flopping around like a dying fish.

I will stop here to say that boobies are large seabirds, about the size of a 12lb turkey, that for whatever reason love hitch rides on boats.  The problem with that is that they can damage delicate equipment if they land on it, foul up your fishing lines, or relieve themselves all over your boat (I’ve heard horror stories about what that’s like).  I had joked to Rich before we left about getting a plastic owl for the boat, just because I liked him and thought he’d make a low-maintenance pet.  They’re typically used, mostly unsuccessfully, to scare away seagulls.  But after an earlier encounter with a persistent boobie who very much wanted to land on our stern, I wondered if it might have been a good idea.  No boobie would ever be frightened of an owl, but maybe if I ran around waving it, hooting like a madwoman, it would confuse it enough so it would leave.  Anyway, you try to avoid having a boobie on your boat.  I had never considered one might come *in* the boat.

Now, Rich asked me to get him the beach towel.   Boobies have large beaks and are not a bird you want to tangle with as those beaks are known to break fingers.  Rich threw the towel over the boobie and got it into the cockpit, then managed to throw it from the cockpit into the water.  The boobie squawked at Rich indignantly, as though we had invaded his home.  I was furiously cleaning the floor below, glad it hadn’t left much of a mess. At this point, I would not be getting any more sleep.