NOTE: Robin and I both independently allowed date formatting errors to creep into our blog-post emails, which prevented the last few days of posts from showing up on the blog! We have since reposted the missing days. Apologies for the confusion.

Today marks three weeks since our landfall in the Marquesas. We are beginning to get the passage itch again, which means that anchorages we originally thought to spend two nights on are getting one night. But we did not want to skip Hakatua Bay, which sailors rave about for its quaint village, hike to the largest waterfall in Polynesia, and notoriety as the setting for one series of Survivor.

Hakatea Bay is at the exact opposite end of the island from Anaho, and we originally thought to split the 30 mile trip into two days. But there seemed to be no reason we couldn't do it in one day, except, perhaps, for unpredictable winds on the west, lee side of the island. But some previous voyagers reported finding favorable sea breezes there.

So we left at dawn, again, motoring out just far enough to pick up the easterly tradewinds for a quick Genoa run to the western edge of the island. As expected, the brisk tradewinds evaporated, and, as hoped, a light westerly sea breeze filled in, making for a pleasant, if slow, reach south along Nuku Hiva's wild western edge. There is only one anchorable bay here, and no settlements on the rocky rugged dry valleys.

At the islands southwestern point, the sea breeze evaporated and we were slammed by a 180 degree wind shift, back into the twenty knot easterlies. We soon had two reefs for a wave bashing beat to Hakatea. I noticed light through the Genoa - there is a small tear, which will need fixing. Fortunately, it was not too far east along the south coast, and the wind diminished a little.

What the cruisers gushing reports about Hakatea fail to mention is that this is also a stunningly beautiful anchorage - a unique mountain ringed bowl with clear water and white sand beaches at its head. Steep walls surround us on all sides, and we cannot see the sea from our anchorage (a rarity in the Marquesas). We were alone here when we arrived (a boatload full of presumed Survivor tourists left when we got here). Though we were soon joined by the sailboat Ounte Vas, piloted by a French couple who we met two days ago in Baie Anaho.

A pair of manta rays surrounded the boat soon after we anchored, entertaining us with their hoovering mouths and graceful wings. The sun set early below the high enclosing cliff to the west, and after dinner it got darker than any other anchorage we have seen since arriving in the Marquesas - the only lights are ours and those on Ounte Vas.