To begin, let me first apologize for the infrequent updates. I know many of you are wondering if we’ve been captured by the natives, scuttled the Enchantress, and received ceremonial tattoos across our butt cheeks. This is not the case so worry not, however there has been some tattooing.
Really there are three reasons for the lack of correspondence. First is that here on these islands, communication with the outside world can be rather tricky at times. A good example would be an experience I had on the island atoll, Fakarava, which is the administrative center of the entire Toumouto archipelago. Here there are no internet cafes or anything like that. There is only one place to use the internet and only one computer at this place which is, not too surprisingly, the post office. The business hours can be unusual for an outsider like myself, so if you go between the hours of 11:30 am and 1:30 pm, you’ll have to come later (or earlier) when they’re open. Then before you can use the internet you must purchase a pre-paid internet card which the post office will be sold out of. So to acquire this you then walk 2 km through town to the very fancy Black Pearl Resort (the other place that sells pre-paid internet cards). Then hurry back to the post office keeping your fingers crossed that no one else on the island needs to use the computer or that some unexpected holiday business hours go into effect while you were gone.
The second reason for our aloofness is that the cost of communicating outside the islands is extremely high. Actually the cost of everything here in the French Polynesia is high and while we really like it here, if we don’t leave soon we’ll have to hit the corner with the banjo and harmonica hoping to make a nickel or two. Just the other day I was in the grocery store and saw a bag of Doritos for $10 bucks and box of Fruit Loops for $12 and a dozen eggs for about $25. We do without these luxuries and get by just fine on the government subsidized baguettes and butter.
Finally, we’ve pretty much had little time/motivation to write these long blog entries. Its not that we don’t love you guys its just that so much of our time is spent exploring, meeting people, breaking stuff, fixing stuff, arguing, laughing, eating baguettes, chasing fish and other wildlife, trading stuff for fruit, and sitting with smiles that we’ve had little time for computers. So there you have it and again I do apologize but here you are with the latest juicy tales of plunder and glory…
Arrival in the French Polynesia was a welcomed thing after some long, mind numbing, weeks at sea. As you may have read from Shawn’s earlier blog, Tyson was not having the best time. It turns out he isn’t the seaman we thought he might be but that’s ok. To each their own right? We did catch one heck of a fish out there though. A big ol’ 3’10” Wahoo was slain by the rod (see photo) and we feasted for two days until the meat began to spoil and we had to throw some back to sea. That’s alright though, nothing is wasted at sea no matter what Shawn might say.
The first stop was the island Hiva Oa in the Marquesas which is where you check in through immigration and have to pay a $1200 compulsory bond that you get back when you leave. But with a little savvy bureaucratic maneuvering and a sprinkle of charm we were able to avoid all that and check in when we got to Tahiti a few weeks down the road. So with that out of the way we were able to relax and enjoy the quaint little town of Atuona with some new friends from the boating community and a few local who were kind enough to show us some real cool spots. One of the better spots was along the rugged shoreline where tidal pools form as the seas retreat, leaving behind some very relaxing, Jacuzzi-like tidal pools to soak our weary bones in. Things got a bit crazy however when the tide came back up and waves started pouring in again. All good though. Some other highlights: the hike to ancient petroglyphs and “swimming hole” (kinda stagnant), free mangoes and breadfruit falling from the trees or requiring the trusty flip flop toss to retrieve, the steak and french fries on Saturday night (a local delicacy) served right out the side of a van, and one of the best memories when we met local teens who befriended us and took us to a wedding reception party that we were definitely crashing and drank till the wee hours of the night.
We then moved on south to the next island down called Tahuata. We stopped after just a day of sailing in a remote bay with nothing but a shack and a bunch of coconut trees. We spent the day exploring like we were a bunch of cast aways or maybe more like kids in the woods with sticks; just having a good ol’ time there at our first truly secluded beach. Remembering a hunting tactic I learned while living in Kingston, Jamaica, the three of us were able to capture a load of sand crabs to dine on for supper. With lighting fast speed and deadly precision, we would reach in their little holes and seize their deadly claws while wrestling them up and out into our bucket of doom. A more dangerously delicious meal I’ve never had. The next morning, a bushwack to the top of a nearby peak gave us some incredible views of the channel between us and Hiva Oa and the bay below with only beauty and the Enchantress gently rocking in the wake.
We sailed on to the small town of Hapatoni further south along the coast and quickly made friends with a local artist named Marc. We met him after walking down the short dirt road for a while and he called us up to his house when he noticed us strolling along looking for something interesting to see or do. We walked up to his house a bit reluctant at first but he waved us up with a big smile and an enthusiastic “Ia Orana!” making us feel very welcome and right at home. Marc sat down at his work table and began showing us some of the carvings he was working on or had completed. He had carved some of the most intricate and beautiful pieces I’ve ever seen including one amazing horse bone nose flute (I kid you not; I watched him play it). He was also incredible drawer and tattoo artist and after watching him do a few sketches, Tyson signed up to get a new tattoo the next day. It was pretty cool to watch Tyson getting a tattoo right there on Marc’s front porch with all kinds of yard equipment laying around and techno pop blasting out the boom box. I..want to fly…so high….over the rainbow.. I guess this helped Marc focus even if his tattoo gun did keep shorting out all the time. To show our appreciation we came back to his house the next day with an octopus I had speared as a gift. It was an epic battle between cephalopod and man but in the end I proved victorious and Marc seemed to appreciate it very much.
After all this excitement we moseyed on down to our final stop in the Marquesas, the supremely beautiful, Bay of Virgins on Fatu Hiva. We had seen a few photos of the area and were really looking forward to stopping here. It was just, if not more beautiful, than we had ever expected. Huge rock spires jut out of the landscaped covered by lush green jungle that winds it way up an enormous but still secluded valley. The town here is small but again the people are incredibly friendly and we make friends in no time.
There is a strange daily ritual here at the Bay of Virgins where sometime around 2:30 in the afternoon a local will come down to the volleyball court and start banging on a metal pole with a rock until all the people of the town start flowing down from their homes to the court, gathering for the big game. These matches will last all evening and will have anywhere from two to thirty people playing. One day we decided we share a little bit of our culture with them and brought a Frisbee into town to get a game of ultimate going. At first they saw the Frisbee and weren’t too sure about it so they just kept saying “volleyball! volleyball!” until we agreed to a couple of games. But then I snuck off and started throwing with a couple locals on the sidelines. In no time at all there were a dozen or so people gathering into the Frisbee circle for a game of toss. Once I felt we had wrangled up enough folks for a game, we walked down to the abandoned soccer field (this is a volleyball only town) and started explaining the rules with the help of a local woman who knew a little English. At first folks weren’t playing exactly by the rules but they sure were having a great time. I mean ultimate Frisbee was a hit with these people and I was having more fun just looking at their enthusiasm than I was playing the game. We played for a couple of hours till everyone was fully exhausted then just sat there on the edge of the field by a nice creek and sipped local wine and beer while some other fellas brought down guitars and ukuleles and played till the sun went down and a big bright full moon came up. Even then there were still some locals circled up in the field tossing the Frisbee around. It was a wonderful night shared with some wonderful people in one of the most incredible places I’ve ever been. The next day we came to town just as we were getting ready to leave the island and the same woman who helped us translate the rules, presented us each with beautiful necklaces made from fish bone, black pearls, and boar’s teeth. It was a gesture of thanks and appreciation for our friendship and sharing a part of our lives with theirs. We were taken aback and truly grateful for this amazing gift which I know we each cherish dearly. Tyson sports his regularly but I’m keeping mine in safe keeping.
Onward we traveled to the “dangerous islands” of the Toumoutu Archipelago, the next large island chain in the FP. Dangerous because of how low they are to sea level making them incredibly difficult to see. All the islands are atolls which are basically submerged islands that create circular rings with big lagoons inside and only a few, if any passages, into the center. Also adding to the danger is how narrow these passages can be and extra tricky to negotiate without the right tides. Because of all this danger, we decided to visit only one of the atolls, Fakarava, which has a very large passage into the lagoon. This was good for us since we have no motor and move strictly under sail power, limiting our maneuverability and speed. We made it with no problems however and cruised right into the anchored, turning a few heads and dare I say, impressing a few spectators? You see, rarely does anyone sail into anchorages, let alone drop anchor under sail so when it happens you get people saying things like: “Now that’s sailing damnit!” or “That’s what I call sailors goldarnit!” The truth is we really wish we had a working motor and are only impressing people by default but who really cares about that anyway right?
We had a fun time in Fakarava and made it to two really good parties while we were there. The first was on are very large, 140 ft or so, sailboat called Infinity which was on some kind of environmental quest reminiscent of the movie Life Aquatic, but not as clever a crew. The crew was really cool though and were all ages and from all walks of life. There were 16 of them in all and went from 21 to 72 years old or close to that. The skipper was only 24 and it blew me away to see her in charge of this enormous vessel with such a rowdy crew. The party was great too complete with a live local band, delicious food by the dance floor (yeah they had a dance floor), and crows nest up one of the mast that you could jump off of. The next party was a day’s sail south in the lagoon to the southern passage on the island. It was hosted by a slick French dude who kinda creeped us out but had a real nice resort and was very hospitable. He had sharks in his pool which gives you and idea of the set up. All night he kept playing a CD of his son’s band and telling us how original the music was while we drank an assortment of whiskies. Speaking of sharks, I had one of the most incredible scuba dives while I was here. First off the snorkeling is top notch and the best I’ve ever done in my life. There is incredibly beautiful coral that composes the entire ocean floor with all kinds of colorful fish and yes, sharks. The dive we went on was right in the middle of the passage out of the lagoon and we dropped down to a hundred feet. We didn’t hardly swim at all once we got down there; we just sat and watched as about a thousand (seriously, I counted) black tip sharks swam by, giving the occasional curious glance. Everywhere I looked was a shark gliding by, not giving us a second thought which gave me great relief because I was thinking about them a lot especially the ones with bites missing out of their fins. Also I had a really bad cut on my arm from an accident with the anchor and was wondering if the whole rumor about sharks smelling blood was true or not. All in all, the experience was dreamlike and incredibly beautiful and one I’ll never forget.
Well that brings us to Tahiti where I currently sit and write all this down. We’re going through some changes on the Enchantress as Tyson is heading home in two weeks and will no longer be with us. The only thing is, Shawn and I leave tomorrow for Moorea so Tyson, being completely broke, is going to have to get creative with the lodging situation. He’s a real resourceful chap though and I have the utmost confidence in him. A big thanks goes out to him for all his help in making this adventure happen even if he did bitch and moan the whole time. Thanks homey.
Well folks that’s about it for now. I hope this satisfies the curious minds out there and thanks for reading. We’ll be in touch.
