Tonight, walking back to the breakwater kayaks with our Rick and Candy from Connecticut the glow of the pizza, French salad red wine and friendship propelled us to the dock. Our kayaks are tied to a signpost where a group of young men lounge around a pizza box. Music surrounds them. They offered us pizza but we are full. A hand slips inside my kayak remove the phone playing music. The dark-haired man suggested the sound was superior when the phone was in the kayak. Soon the boats are launched and the steel ladder down to the dark water successful navigated. We paddle side by side towards the pair of lights we know is home. The brightly lit Aranui, the cargo/cruise ship, is anchored in the middle of the harbor but the solar cockpit light is x easy to find. We are getting ready to leave this beautiful island chain.

The day was intermixed immersion in Marquesan history and sharing stories and dreams with our Galapagos to Marquesas sailing fleet friends. A search for a museum hidden in the lobby of a small motel and a quest for an archeological site overlooking the town book ended the day. On the scramble up the hill Karl finds a guide, a young man pushing a baby carriage and carrying a large backpack of groceries up the hill. He lives close to the site and we hustle to keep up with him. After we pass the recycling center and the pigs feeding the road becomes rough sp our guide folds the baby carriage up, tosses it over his shoulder and sweeps up his two year of daughter Rana up in his arms. We still struggle to keep up but at last reach the site. The hilltop site is an eerie combination of the modern and the ancient. The old foundations, dugout canoes and tiki carvings are complimented with contemporary scultures. As usual we have the site to ourselves except for an open backpack, a pair of boots and a pile of human hair. We try not to think of why those three items might be there.

Earlier in the day we have started the hunt for the small museum open for only odd hours where we had heard there were implements used for ritualistic killing of enemies. Poorly marked, like many things we found. the tiny one room museum at an aging motel in the shadow of the $300/night boutique hotel. We are greeted by Hetuotemoana, a tall young Marquesan woman who works for Rosa, the owner. Rosa is an American who ended up here and has a keen sense of history. Lung disease makes it hard for her to talk. I ask each Hetu and Rosa what their favorite items are in the museum. Hetu loves the large carved rosewood bowl while Rosa loves the piece of the poipoi pounder used in the year 1000. We linger over the artifacts, weights to snag snarks, porpoise teeth crowns and ornate paddles. We learn of the bird dance that young children know as the origin story of the Marquesas. As we leave I ask Hetu what her name Hetuotemoana means star of the ocean or Venus. Many stars greet us as we push the kayaks away from the pier. Tomorrow we will see some new stars and some old but will feel honored to have met Hetuotemoana �" Star of the Ocean and will look for Venus her namesake.