Cruising Blues?

We arrived at Baie Hanavave (also known as Baie des Vierges or Bay of Virgins) on Fatu Hiva mid-afternoon and were immediately struck by the dramatic scenery. The bay lays at the edge of a canyon with towering rock spires and green steep mountains. As the afternoon sun reflected off the greenery, it looked like something out of a movie scene. And, I’m sure it has been in more than one movie scene, as Fatu Hiva has been featured in numerous books and movies. It is rumored that the bay was originally called Baie des Verges (basically, bay of penises, or as one boat put it…bay of dicks) but that the French missionaries thought it was inappropriate and inserted an “i” into Verges, making it Vierges or Virgins. I have no idea if that story is true, but it is pretty funny. Looking at the geography, you can see how the story took hold.

Our friends on Kini Popo had caught a fish on the way over from Hiva Oa and had us over that evening for dinner and cocktails. As the boys were filleting the fish on deck, a local boat approached us to inquire about fishing gear. He wanted some bait rigs, which we had on our boat. We don’t catch bait much and Mike was fine parting with them, so he got a ride back over to Adagio to get the gear. In exchange, we negotiated to get some chicken. There was a bit of difficulty in the communication, but we were supposed to meet our new friend Poi in the morning the next day. He also offered to give us a tour over to Omoa on the other side of the island.

We arrived the next morning and were taken to Poi’s home. It was a open air home with very little furniture other than some plastic chairs, a table, and what looked to be a mattress on the floor in the next room. There was a crude outdoor kitchen, grill and fire pit. Poi lived there with his wife and two sons, age 8 and 1. His mother-in-law lived in the small home next door. Although the homes were quite modest, the grounds were beautifully maintained with tons of fruit trees and tropical plants and flowers. From what we can ascertain, most of the people on the island are subsistence based, and live on fruit, local animals, and what they can trade. I don’t know if they receive any assistance from the French government, but some people did have some nice pickup trucks.

We learned that the offer of a tour wasn’t for free, and Poi wanted to charge us $150 for the day. We thought that was a bit pricey, but we wanted to see more of the island so we agreed. The drive up the mountainside was definitely worth it, as we were treated to the most fantastic views. But, we did not find that much to see in Omoa. Poi took us to a “petroglyph” which was a crude carving in a rock and could have been made anytime, and a “tiki” which was made of concrete and probably 20 years old. We took any disappointment in stride.

We did some exploring the next couple of days, heading out to uncharted bays out of the anchorage in our dinghy. We found a local boat at the head of one small bay with swimmers in the water, so we put on our snorkel gear and jumped in. Mike followed the local guys around to see what they were doing. The one guy had a small speargun and was hunting for octopus. There must be some technique to this, as we hardly ever see octopus, they are so good at camouflaging themselves. But, this guy knew what he was doing. He kept diving down to look under rocks, and repeatedly came up with octopus.

But, the highlight of our time in Fatu Hiva was swimming with the manta rays. Mike and I had taken the dinghy out toward the back of the anchorage to say hello to a boat that had just come in. As we were looking around, we saw the tips of the wings of a couple of giant mantas. We watched them for a few minutes and decided we really wanted to jump in. We ran back to the boat to get our snorkel gear and to alert our friends on Kini Popo. Both boats raced back out and jumped in the water with masks, snorkels and cameras. The mantas were about six foot across and clearly feeding as they had their wide mouths open to filter out the plankton and were doing circles around in the same area. They weren’t too bothered by our presence and swam around us for about a half hour. At one point we had about six of them all around us. Very cool!

Pretty soon we were starting to look at our next destination and the upcoming weather forecast. We were headed to the Tuamotus, roughly 400 miles away, and had several different options of our first stop. After doing a little research, we decided our first destination would Raroia. And, it looked like the next few days would be a good time to go (or so we thought…)

As we were preparing to leave, Mike and I were asking each other if we were excited to get to the Tuamotus. Both of us kind of had a “meh” response, and we weren’t sure what our lack of enthusiasm was about. In over two years of cruising, I don’t think we had ever felt this way before a passage. We had read an article a while back in a sailing magazine called “Cruising Blues” that talked about how many people worked for years to be able to take off and sail the world only to be disappointed and end their adventure nearly before it began. For the first time, I think we understood how that could happen to people.

For years we talked about being able to do what we are doing now, and it was a dream of Mike’s before we even met. After all the sailing magazines, blogs and videos out there showing how awesome it would be, cruising French Polynesia always seems to be a highlight, kind of a bucket list item. I think it had been built up as such a fantasy in our minds, that we couldn’t help but be a little disappointed when reality set in.

Of course, it is beautiful. And, Fatu Hiva is definitely at the top of that list. But, you can’t ignore the realities of what is here also. There were numerous local people waiting at quai for the cruisers to come ashore so that they could offer to trade fruit for something they wanted or needed. One of those things was alcohol, as booze is both expensive and difficult to obtain here. We said no when the young men asked us for alcohol. While with another boat, we met a woman who was in distress looking for her husband. Apparently one boat had purchased so many of his carvings that he blew all of the money on alcohol and was on a multi-day bender drunk somewhere in town. Even on a beautiful, remote island, real world problems still exist.

We soon got out of our funk and started looking forward to something completely new, as visiting the Tuamotus would be the first time we would have to transit a pass into a lagoon in a atoll. As the sunset one evening over Fatu Hiva, we pulled up the anchor and said goodbye to the Marquesas.

~katie

p.s. I have video of the mantas, which will someday make it up on Facebook. The lack of internet capability is cramping my style on this whole blogging thing…