We had a couple of boat repairs to attend to in Nuku Hiva and some well earned r & r but most importantly we got to walk on dry land and meet other puddle jumpers and share the stories. Before we knew it the time warp had got a hold of us, so by day 6 we moved on to enjoy another world and another time in the very next bay. Daniel's Bay is so spectacular it is indescribable, but I will attempt to take you there.
That late afternoon we arrived in this small bay that closes shut after you turn the corner so you are surrounded by the sheer face of the volcanic rock island towering over you. It made you feel secure and yet vulnerable at the same time, if you know what I mean. We were invited to a beach bonfire by some of the people who were already safely anchored within. So after dousing ourselves in bug spray (because you can still catch elephantitius in these lands, and hey people I have seen the photos) we didn't want to give twilight a chance to sic the "no-see-ums" onto us mere white city slickers. We got ready for our first invitation ashore and launched the dingy; I climbed in with our marshmallows and drinks in hand before we putted our way across the quiet black 'cave-like' waters of twilight to the small beach. A surprisingly not-so- graceful landing was had on a shore dumper that only the bonfire onlookers, cows and few goats saw coming. That was our ice breaker. I would normally have been shocked to see cows on the sand but was too pre- occupied with my dripping marshmallows. In the sultry air and the bonfire both dried me out and smoked me to respell any bugs around. This little beach named 'Hakaui' was the base camp for one of the "Survivor" tribes filmed in 1995 so you can imagine its beauty in the quiet crackling moonlight. After hearing all about the tribe of locals hidden within the bushes, we headed off the following morning with a friend from the boat AKA for the "gruelling" 4klm walk up to Vaipo - the stunning cascades set deep in the heart of Nuku Hiva . I was seeking out the remnants of sacred grounds, dwellings, stone hedges, old ruins and sculptures spread along parts of the paths that removed any thought you may have of your soggy wet and sore feet. Not sure if he who hums saw any of the ruins of past existence but he certainly saw the little piles of stones that are strategically placed to show you the way when the track becomes ......well nonexistent. I saw it my duty to add my donation to upkeep these quaint sign posts, by selecting the perfect one rock/pebble to sit atop the balancing rock piles and then having to run to catch up. After a couple of hours you could hear the thundering noise of the 300 metres drop deep into the cool rock pools that we were headed for. Trudging on we go, until the level of excitement and pace lifted at the sounds of falling waters, and the one glimpse that you get about 20 (exciting) minutes before you finally make it. Once we broke into the clear it was breathtaking to stand and see that utter rock skyscraper looming over us. We plunged into the crystal waters and lay back to see the small patch of blue sky above where I could barely make out the white tailed eagle soaring perfectly above. The waterfall was flowing heavily and almost impossible to get under without hammering brain damage, but somehow we had to see the view from behind the curtain of clear water just to add to the adventure. However, it was adventurous enough to plunge head first under a rock to break into the water pool especially now as I have since heard that there were massive bulging green eyed eels lurking within that had deterred others. The few remaining Marquesans living in this part of heaven welcome you into their lives to share the fruits and the cultures from their land. He who hums got a lesson on how to strip a coconut husk, knock that top off with a hatchet and drink.... caveman like. Next was a lesson to shred it into fine coconut (should I ever need) ~ quick as a wink from the heavily tattooed yet loveable Marquesan. These people are the descendants of royalty who owned most of this island. Oh, not your sparkling tiara royalty, but more the strong tribal kind of royalty that we down under have no knowledge of because unlike other royals, they don't make the front cover of Woman's Weekly. Totally absorbed in their world and loving myself sick sitting there watching their offspring eat the prawn and fish lunch that I just knew he caught this morning with his big bare hands. I begrudgingly had to leave them because 'someone' had been put through enough ropes and was keen to get back to our world and time. Not sure how long we stayed maybe an hour or two, just another time warp especially in this ancient part of the planet. So out of their lovely shell dripping, tree stump furnished lean-to and through the scrub I was kicking stones behind he who hums who got sent packing with much more fruit than he could carry without strain. Although no strain was noted in front of the brawny Marquesan as he offered more and loaded up he whose hum was now muffled. All the way back across the rivers and rocks, I was wishing I could 'just be' for a while longer but the sun was setting and out little dingy will be sitting on the shore in the dark if we don't get going. What a memorable closing to our first week in the Pacific. And to top it off as we motored out of the magnificent green misty cliffs that enclosed our anchorage that next rainy morning, we had a group of dolphins who had come to escort us out into the Pacific. We set the sails for the Tuamotos Atolls and headed for yet another life experience of a very different kind with their small communities.