Finding the Front Garden Petroglyphs
11 August 2022
• Baie Hanaiapa , Hiva Oa
by Karl
We tried very hard NOT to have a plan for the day. We packed up for the shore with the vague idea of looking for the attractions rumored to be in this village - a store, a vanilla plantation that gives tours, the âtiki mone oneâ that is in the woods somewhere. I threw a towel in with my shore bag, just in case we ended up at the one attraction we noticed yesterday - a marked footpath over the ridge to the white-sand beach of Hanatekkua.
Landing at the cement pier was much harder this morning at low tide - we needed a friendly assist from the fishermen on the dock, who lent a literal hand to hoist us out of our kayaks at the right spot of surge. We walked around the village again, looking first for the vanilla plantation, and continuing on the road up the valley when we could not find it. As we passed one house, a Polynesian man waved us up. He asked if we were on a sailboat (of course) and did we want to see his petroglyph and take pictures. Sure enough, there in his front garden was an ancient carved stone. We thanked him profusely, and asked if there were more petroglyphs or a stone tiki nearby. He said we could climb up the road to the âfond du valleeâ where we would find a water basin, and nearby petroglyphs right by the road. He said it was two or three kilometers.
So on we walked, past houses with banana and pamplemousse gardens, and a few beehives here and there. We passed another couple who seemed to be burning the brush by the road (there are little set brush fires everywhere here, and the Baie smells sweetly of palm frond smoke). The man said the basin was only 500 meters away, and seemed to confirm there were petroglyphs there.
We found the âbasinâ - a not very âancienâ water works construction built for diverting the river, for hydro power we later learned. There was a nice paepae platform nearby, but no petroglyphs or stone carvings to be found near the basin or in the woods near the basin, nor even another km or two up the road from the basin, nor even on the little footpath leading down into the ravine by the road where we bushwhacked through the jungle to look for whatever the footpath might lead to. At least the jungle was filled with beautiful birdsongs and the gurgle of the clear running stream.
We eventually figured out that the vanilla plantation was right near the beach in town. No one was to be seen when we walked past it again, but we poked out head into the tented growing area for a look. We sat on a bench contemplating the lovely bay and the Mabel Rose, still where we left her despite the wind gusts roaring down the valley from time to time. We destroyed a roadkill pamplemousse we had picked up. Then we went back to our boat for a restful afternoon of no fixed plan.
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