13 August 2014 | Punaauia Tahiti
31 July 2014 | Port Phaeton, Tahiti
Looking Out From Hornby
31 October 2014
Today marks our final separation from Kattu. She has left the marina in Taravao for parts unknown. We feel as if a child of ours has been adopted and is lost to us. A part of us goes with her and especially a part of Alf whose dedicated hands brought her to life. She was a perfect home for us and a steady companion on our adventures. We are grateful for all the time we had with her and wish her - and her new companion - all the very best as she sails on.
Moving On
13 August 2014 | Punaauia Tahiti
Clouds with cracks of sun
Once again we find ourselves in an unforeseen position. We have put Kattu up for sale.
This is an unfortunate and unpopular ending for our story. We had imagined that we'd be sailing her even further on to Tonga and Fiji and from there to make a heroic journey to Hawaii against prevailing winds. We imagined resting in Hawaii in preparation for the last victorious stretch across the cold North Pacific. And then, to arrive back at Ford's Cove - or maybe first, Vancouver - with our hard-worn red sails valiant against the blue sky, coming to rest at the dock and into the arms of those we love.
I feel sorry that we cannot live up to that ideal. But we are filled with gratitude that we were able to sail over 12,000 kilometers and across that wonderful wild ocean.
When we left from Ford's Cove we had no idea whatever what lay ahead.
We didn't know that conditions would prevent us from sailing non-stop to San Diego in ten days and that we'd be forced back to the shore so many times that it would take us nearly two months - a big drain on our cruising kitty early on.
We didn't know that we would mostly have to stay in marinas in Mexico because our handmade, sweet-looking rowing dinghy was not practical for very long rows to shore in rough seas, for surf landings, or that it would prove to be too heavy for me to haul ashore myself.
We could not have known that each move we made, despite previous consultation with (invariably wrong) weather oracles, would yet again place us in punishing conditions, or that we also be faced with concerns of an El Nino event on our homeward leg.
We also were unprepared for the news yesterday that I had be granted only one extra month in French Polynesia instead of the six necessary to wait out the cyclone season.
And most importantly, we did not imagine that we would be find ourselves without the strength or resources to continue to sail our beautiful Kattu.
But, if we were only able to make one ocean crossing, she was the best boat for us. She gave us a hands-on fully visceral experience. There is no other boat in which we could have felt so fully engaged with the wind, waves and weather. It was the most exciting ride of our lives!
So here we are with our flights booked.
We still plan to sail to Moorea tomorrow and we hope to have two weeks there before sailing Kattu back to Port Phaeton where we'll secure her in the marina there and prepare to leave for home.
Our hope now is that Kattu will be sold quickly, and to young and enthusiastic people who will have the strength and energy to give her a good run. And we hope that we can return to Hornby and make an even better home there with all our love.
Waiting in Taravao
31 July 2014 | Port Phaeton, Tahiti
Drizzle
Waiting in Taravao
We've been anchored in this deep and sheltered bay for over a month now waiting for one thing or another. Yesterday we were visited by a surveyor who, after a long and careful investigation, declared Kattu " beautiful". We're hoping this will mean that we can obtain the needed liability insurance. Today, I learned that I have been granted permission to stay in French Polynesia until April so that we can hole up for the cyclone season. Now, we are only waiting for our repaired autopilot to return from Australia so that we can sail off for Moorea and Bora Bora before we come back to Taravao where we will tie up to a dock safe from cyclones (we hope) until next year.
These are all land concerns. They are insistent but slow to resolve. And we are mostly at the mercy of others for their resolution. Quite the opposite to life at sea where concerns are immediate and we must use all our own resources to respond effectively. While this is a peaceful place to wait, we are itching to move on.
During this past month we've also been pondering the implications of spending six more in Taravao tied to a dock. Looking toward this vast expanse of time has brought on bouts of homesickness. We are such a long way from Hornby and we will need to make two more big passages across the Pacific before we see Ford's Cove again.
Meanwhile, we are glad we will be able to stay in the only "cyclone safe" marina in French Polynesia. But, as Ivan, the marina manager says, " eef a ceeclone decide eet wants zees marina..." (shrug)
So, we pray we are spared from cyclones, that we stay healthy and that we can safely make it across the Pacific two more times to return home.
Ua Pu to Tahiti
21 June 2014
Entering day 3 enroute from Ua Pu to Tahiti.
Our first 24 hours out were spent wrestling with a savage sea that required complete attention and only hand-steering. We scarcely left the cockpit except to crawl to the galley to retrieve a morsel to eat. We were drenched with seaspray and sleepless and wondered how it was that we were subjecting ourselves to such brutality and if we had been delusional in our pursuit of adventure.
Throughout the following day we were grateful to see slow but continual improvement in conditions. We were able to resume our usual watches.
This morning, so far, the wind and waves are working with us and we have increased sail and knots. It seems as if we may reach the Tuamotu in a couple of days. Meanwhile we are in the endless and familiar ocean once again.
Next morning... A blissful night's sleep on the slow swinging sea.
After breakfast we were rolling along smoothly with brisk but benevolent trades and both of us were happily reading (R.L. Stevenson's In the South Seas) when the auto pilot stopped working. Alf removed the steering wheel and attached a vice grip for me to steer. He managed to change the motor, do some saudering, clean and grease and change the drive. It works now, but only for short periods of time. We'll use it while we're eating but we will be hand steering for the rest of the sail to Tahiti which should be about 4 days. At least it didn't happen on the big crossing. But we are annoyed that a new and expensive piece of equipment was so poorly made and wonder how we'll manage the two other big crossings we'll need to do to get home again. (Tahiti -Hawaii and Hawaii-Hornby Island)
Next day... Endless train of squalls. Somehow we both had sleep on our off-watches, but it continues to be rough and wild. We are sailing through the Tuamotu Archipelago right now as waves and unknown objects crash about the boat. We can see nothing but white and grey. Any idea of stopping at an enchanted atoll has vanished and we plow through the fierceness soaked through with rain. - Alf just poked his head down the hatch to tell me that the "squall" is a full gale and that we can't heave to in the midst of coral atolls so we have to keep going and hope for the best. In his words," this is fucked."
I am making hard boiled eggs in a pot of seawater. A plus for Ua Pu was that eggs there were not a precious commodity. They are excellent storm food. At least I am in dry clothes now. Alf is naked from the waist down and in a soaked jacket, the hood of which is alternately plastered to his head or ballooned with wind. With careful timing he was able to get his cup of coffee from me. I stagger from one end of the galley to the other checking the eggs as the wind shrieks and the waves smash and roll Kattu. The Tuamotu are called the Dangerous Archipelago which describes our experience perfectly today. - Successful transfer of eggs and buttered bread.
We are just passing Manihi Atoll and have 80 nautical miles to be clear of the other atolls which include Ahe, Rangiroa and Arutura. I sing the song " Bali Hai" and can hardly imagine a more contrasting scenario.
...Beyond miserable. We have no choice but to creep by inches against the wind in this never-ending rain. No atoll is possible to enter in these conditions and if we turn around and go back the way we came we'll have to heave to for who knows how long and lose our ground. Meanwhile, staying in here doesn't guarantee we'll get out tomorrow. As it stands, it seems we'll have an exhausting and lonely night.
Later... Again, the unexpected. We are now anchored in Manihi Atoll. The weather and sea state deteriorated to the point that we could no longer continue on our route so we took the risk of entering the nearest atoll. We have charts for many of the atolls but not Manihi. It was a rather dicey entrance in the last of daylight with a current running through the pass and coral heads all over the place. We are the only sailing vessel in this lagoon.
Next day... It was a tremendous relief to sleep on completely calm water for the first time since Hornby. And it is marvelous to be the only boat here. But our anchor is fouled in the coral and we've had squalls moving through today preventing us from rowing ashore. Ah well, we will probably be staying here a few days, so all in good time. It is a blessing to have some distance from the raging sea beyond the reef.
Next day... Anchor still thoroughly stuck and it looks as if we'll have to hire a diver. Meanwhile, we can't get to shore because a northwest wind is ripping through the lagoon creating whitecaps. We are thoroughly stuck.
Next day... Same conditions. Trying to decide what to do. Tried to launch the dinghy and nearly swamped it. No way to untangle the anchor chain without a diver which is expensive. Cutting the chain would leave us without our best anchor. We have food, but no fresh food. We have enough water if we have a normal passage to Tahiti - no more than three days.
Next day... We were able to get a reply from an all stations VHF call we put out. A young man named Teva picked us up in his speed boat and took us to the village where we found 3 carrots and 3 oranges ( the supply ship hadn't come in) and Teva found us a young diver called Kiki who agreed to help us untangle our anchor chain. They both took us back to the boat and Kiki performed some magnificent free dives ( he is pearl diver and can free dive to 50 metres) and directed us in boat maneuvers. The exercise was intense and stunning and we were able to free the anchor and follow Teva and Kiki to a safe anchorage at a motu on the other side of the lagoon. They agreed to pick us up the next morning at dawn to meet the supply ship.
Next day... The supply ship was an old Norwegian ship loaded with refrigerated containers of fresh food and others with dry goods. There were three forklifts on board to unload the containers. The whole village comes down for this event. What the boat brings is always a surprise. There is no produce on the atoll beyond what comes off the ship. We were able to get some carrots, tomatoes, cabbage and oranges.
In the afternoon we had our private motu experience trekking from one side to the other amid palms, pandamus and ironwood trees and across clinky coral beaches which looked like heaps of bones. Dragonflies flitted about eating the mosquitoes and the ground was pocked with land crab hideouts and the coconuts they had miraculously opened. We swam in the warm clear lagoon and rowed back to Kattu as the wind increased. It is howling in the dark now and Kattu is shuddering.
Two days later...Tahiti. More white knuckle sailing today at breathtaking speeds but we made it to Venus Point before sunset. It is a completely calm anchorage despite the high surf beyond the reef. There is a magnificent antique but working lighthouse with fresnel light sweeping around the darkness. I can hear the wind beyond the reef but it can't reach us in here. When we were approaching the island this afternoon the mountaintops were shadowed with cloud and from across the water we could have been looking at the North Shore mountains in Vancouver.
Next day... Deep Cove - or so it seems. Light rain has been falling all morning. Cloud is moving across the mountains and drifting through the valleys in much the same manner as we have seen in the Pacific Northwest.
Next day... Papeete. Dirty, noisy and ridiculously expensive. Immigration and customs runaround. Leftover lentil stew for dinner and laundry done with a bucket and plunger on deck. We are anxious to leave but must see the High Commission in the morning to ask about an extended stay in French Polynesia.
Next day... Suddenly we've grown to like Papeete. We spent the morning at the High Commission hoping to obtain permission for me to stay until next spring. Alf is already allowed because he has German citizenship. But everyone we dealt with ( all Polynesian) was so warm and helpful and calm that the day was set it s much better direction. I used my rather feeble French and they were so kind and encouraging and even grateful not to have to use their feeble English. And we we able to get all documents printed, identification photos taken and forms filled out with relative ease.
We found a snack stand with delicious and inexpensive baguette sandwiches and freshly squeezed jus de pamplemousse for lunch. We found a supermarket with reasonable prices to re-provision and came upon a lovely park full of exquisite flowers and shade trees. The dirt and the noise vanished as we began to notice the beauty, the music and most of all the charm and grace of the Polynesians - even the urban ones. We decided to stay another day.
Tahiti Bound
04 June 2014 | Ua Pu
We're sailing out of Ua Pu this morning. The island with its cloud-encircled spires will remain a bit of a mystery to us. We've had a taste of the Marquesas but it's wild, the wind howls, the surf is relentless and for our minimal equipment it's too difficult for us to get ashore much of the time. Yesterday, my back gave up. So, we'll snake our way through the Tuamotu and sail the week to ten days it takes to get to Tahiti and the Society Islands which we hope will be more accessible to us.
Getting to Know You
01 June 2014
Getting to know you May 28th
While in Nuka Hiva I've been reading Herman Melville's book TYPEE which is his account of living on this island for a period of months after jumping a whaling ship into Tahiohae Bay in the mid 19th century It is thrilling to read his descriptions of the landscape because very little has changed.
In the present day, there is a one road village along the waterfront but very little tourist infrastructure. There are no hotels or condos, there are two small grocery stores, a bakery, three restaurants, a cafe and, hidden up the hill, a hardware store. There is an elementary school and a high school. There is a small Farmer's market for produce at dawn on Wednesdays and Saturdays and a supply ship that comes every three weeks. Everywhere you look there are chickens and yet it is next to impossible to buy an egg. We were overjoyed when, very early one morning and after over a week, a local finally agreed to sell us some.
It is hard to sleep in the bay because of the strong wind and waves that sweep in and push all the boats about. And we have felt dizzy every time we've set foot on land because of the constant motion our bodies and brains must endure. And this forceful weather often makes it impossible for us to even row ashore.
There is always a gaggle of sailors hanging out at the dockside cafe for the Wifi and there is some socializing among them when they are not head down at their screens. But there is not too much real interaction with the Marquesans mainly because of the language barrier. Many of the cruisers can speak neither French nor Marquesan. So, until now, we've had a difficult time learning much about the culture from the people who live here.
I did learn French long ago in another life but have had little occasion to exercise it in over forty years. The great thing is, that although I thought I had forgotten everything, the more I speak the more I remember!
Today, we had our best day ever and remembering my French helped to make it so.
We sailed out of Tahiohae Bay this morning into a deeply choppy sea and over into a bay to the west called Taioa. It has a very rough and forbidding entry but the bay within is sublime. It is completely protected by magnificent, deeply creviced mountains and has beautifully calm water for sailors in need of a rest. And we slept most peacefully last night.
Early this morning we easily brought our dingy ashore onto a sandy beach so that we could hike into the mountains and see the Vaipo waterfall which at 2000 feet is the third largest in the world. It was a three hour hike and more difficult than we had imagined and we almost made it to the bottom of the falls. When we were within 10 minutes of it I slipped and fell while crossing a rushing river and one of my shoes was carried away by the current. Luckily we met up with a French woman who had a flip flop she could lend me and sweet Alf made me a walking stick. On the muddy path back Alf also had a fall so we were a rather bedraggled pair.
As we entered the more cultivated part of the valley a lovely Marquesan woman came out and asked us in for lunch. Monette and her husband Mattias brought us into their home and served us a wonderful meal of green papaya salad, poisson cru, chicken, banana fritters, passion fruit and fresh pistache along with lemonade to drink and then coffee with vanilla. We learned that together they had raised 14 children and that it was the ancestors of Mattias that had always lived in this part of Nuku Hiva. They were wonderfully hospitable and we felt nourished in every way by their food and company.
Later, we met their nephew Michel ( Marquesan name, Tutapu.) who lives off the beach close to where we are anchored and we had a long visit with him talking about the natural life he and his family of thirteen (he has 5 sisters and 7 brothers) have always had in the valley living off the land. And they have kept whole area completely unspoiled. The trees are laden with fruit and the sea with fish which is mainly what they eat and what keeps them healthy. (Unlike the Marquesans in town who are addicted to pastries and baguettes.) We also talked about the French and their efforts in the past to suppress Marquesan culture and language. We learned a lot from him and came home with four pommes cannelles ( I've forgotten the Maquesan name he taught us) which are a delectable and energizing fruit.
Tomorrow morning we will go ashore to fill our jerrycans with the delicious water he is giving us and we will take him onto Kattu which he thinks is the loveliest boat in the bay. He says her lines remind him of the traditional canoes of his people.
It is now 8:15pm in the New Moon and all is dark and quiet in the bay. Alf has been asleep for nearly an hour and now I will join him. We will sleep well tonight.
Next morning... Alf made two trips ashore shortly after dawn - first to fill the jerrycans and then to row Tutapu over to Kattu. Tutapu was very impressed with Kattu! We had coffee and talked about his family (who are the descendants of the Tahiohae kings) who still control 6,350 hectares of the island (about half) - the French control the other part. The family members speak Marquesan exclusively with each other unlike most other Marquesans who have adopted French. He said his language was almost dead. He explained the kinship between the Marquesans, the Maori, the Hawaiians and the natives of Easter Island in their language, customs and canoes. The Tahitians, he said, are not included in this group. They have a different language and surprisingly did not have the canoes that the history books say they had.
Meanwhile, Tutapu, who lives in this rustic valley has travelled to Russia, France, Switzerland and the USA. he was very interested in Hornby island and we showed him photographs. He told us about three Orcas that had come to Nuku Hiva in 2004 and beached. Around 300 of the island population joined forces to hoist them back into the sea. Apparently, they come here every year to feed on Manta Rays.
Now, we are trying to decide what to do next. The wind is howling outside the bay so we're spending one more night here and then perhaps we'll begin preparations to move on to the Tuamotu and Society Islands. So far, we think we will stay in French Polynesia through the cyclone season and then sail to Hawaii in the Spring before our passage back to Hornby.
Next morning... A wind howled through this bay last night and is kicking up huge surf in the passage. Alf has decided we'll have to spend another day here.
Meanwhile, I realize that I forgot to leave word by Internet about our excursion and now we are traveling to places that have no connection to that technology. We hope to leave tomorrow but cannot turn back to Taiohae because of rough seas. We will be circumnavigating the island to Anaho Bay which is reportedly on of the most tranquil bays in the Marquesass so that we can clean the bottom of Kattu before making the crossing to Tahiti. I'm hoping we'll be able to stop in Taiohae on the way back from there so that we can let people know before we disappear again.
Next afternoon... June 1st. The usual unexpected. Instead of sailing around to the other side of Nuka Hiva, we ended up bashing against the wind for 26 nautical miles to the next island over on the way to Tahiti, Ua Pu
( pronounced Wa Pu ) where we are now anchored. More later.