Nuku Hiva, Our First Marquesan Explore

 

A beautiful, very hot hike to a lookout over Taiohae Bay.  Milly is one of those dots.  The scenery was stunning.  The tallest spires were in the clouds.

Milly in Daniel's Bay, our favourite of the three we anchored at in Niku Hiva.  A small bay with a spectacular backdrop in all directions.

Nuka Hiva, our first Marquesan island, and what a beauty.  We left the dock in Mexico on March 26 and arrived at anchor in Nuka Hiva on April 20th.  Our passage was 22 days long but we hadn't touched land in 26 days, almost beating our 33 days aboard during COVID lockdown.  We were greeted by two manta rays that coasted through the anchorage looking for tidbits to delicately whisk into their wide open maws.  First order of business was a stretch of the legs.

A good first hike to Collette's Bay up and over a ridge.  Our anchorage in the background.

From  the top of the ridge, Collette's Bay.  The terrain looks surprisingly gentle here, almost rolling hills.  Very deceiving.

Our reward after a very hot walk, the beach

And behind our resting place in the shade.  Two farms lined the lane, one with three of the very few cows on the island.  

We spent two and a half weeks in Nuka Hiva.  Hiking, an island tour, boat projects, a pig roast for sailors who had recently crossed the Pacific, exploring the main town of Taiohae, three anchorages, meeting fellow cruisers and resting up easily filled our days with the exhilaration of being in a new and unique place.  

The topography of Nuka Hiva is sensational.  Verdant and lush with very steep mountains, rocky cliffs and spires.  The people were gentle and friendly, most with big welcoming smiles.  

The beginning of the waterfall hike in Daniel's Bay was idyllic with an obvious lane to follow.  But not for long.  The lane narrowed to a well worn trail, leading us across streams and rivers.  And then it vanished.  True to form, Peter had a map to get us back on track, wading through grass marshes and underbrush.  We knew there were not venomous/aggressive animals to worry about so no problem with plunging through swamps.  If rooster could survive, so could we.

The falls were a torrent hidden behind a rock wall making it impossible to see more than about 10 meters up.  I have a feeling that the water that made the hike so well attended was dried up?  In any case, the hike itself was an adventure in incredibly majestic surrounds.

That is where we were headed.

By the time we left, we had installed a new rodkicker, new reefing lines and a new topping lift each of which had to be shipped, the lines from Tahiti and the rodkicker from the US taking about 3 weeks.  We refilled our gerry cans with diesel - an adventure in itself.  Our screecher was mended by an incredibly efficient and professional female sailmaker - so great!  We had the items we needed to reinstall the block at the masthead for the spinnaker.  Our toilet was still plugged but we had a plan to make it even better with a different plumbing plan.  We figured out the lack of pressure delivered by the fresh water pump.  And the freezer was actually freezing its contents.  Milly was feeling much better.

These flowers were given to us by two girls who were walking home from school.  A woman wears an open blossom and a man a closed blossom.  If you are "taken" romantically, you put it behind your left ear, over your heart.  If you are available, you wear it on the right.  

The cathedral in Taiohae. A mix of Catholicism and Polynesian traditions with tikis placed around the grounds.  There are also Mormon churches/meeting halls throughout FP, often right beside the Catholic Church.

The church in the village of Daniel's Bay.  Hard to see but again a mix of catholic and traditional Polynesian.  Seashell necklace and flower garland adorn the cross and figure.  The church was completely open and looked out on greenery and a huge rock wall.

Taiohea offered three decent grocery stores where we could purchase imported French preserved foods like caviar and pate, and the usual canned and frozen vegetables, baguettes, an aisle of sweets and chips, eggs on a good day - even though there are chickens running wild all over the place.  Domestic beer cost about $24US for six.  Luckily, we had stocked up with alc, dealc and sparkling water. (I plan a separate blog about the challenge of provisioning in FP.)

Post our rugged hike to the waterfall in Daniel's Bay, we had arranged to have lunch at a local woman's house in the village.  The chefs grilling our tuna steaks.  No dress code required.

Bananas and plantains ready to prepare.

Our meal: the most tender and moist tuna steak I've ever had, plantain chips, a cabbage? salad and banana custard pie.  

This guy enjoying his meal.  The ambiance was definitely homey.  The only problem was an actual swarm of houseflies - never seen so many looking for a snack.  

A few observations:  

I asked our tour guide about the wildlife on the island.  He noted, "Goats and chickens!"  "No wild mammals?", I asked.  "Goats and chickens", he reiterated.  In the next days, his assertion bore up to our observations.  Goats ran wild all over the rocky mountain ledges, so much so that we were awakened every morning by their maas sounding like mewing/wailing babies.  These are not wild mountain-type goats.  They are small, once domesticated goats gone rogue.  And the roosters were everywhere, miles from a domestic sanctuary, deep in the rainforest.  If we heard rustling in the undergrowth on our hikes, it was sure to be a rooster or even a hen with chicks.  No predators meant a carefree existence in the wild.  I'm sure if you knew where to look, you could probably find more eggs in the forest than in the supermarket. Our guide proudly added that there were no poisonous animals apart from scorpions.  Birdlife was oddly lacking or hiding well.  Dove and pigeons were abundant.  Found only in Nuka Hiva and once hunted for food , the giant 2lb imperial pigeon, is a claim to fame.  We did not see one but heard about it several times.

This guy was on the roadside, headed into the woods when we arrived.  Those in the jungle are more allusive but so many!  There are  

Another interesting revelation from our guide...upon application, the government will pay for, ship materials and even build a three bedroom, albeit modest, house for any citizen.  As well, they will give parcels of land to those who want.  Our guide owned a house in town, a cottage on the more arid coastline to get away from it all and fish and a parcel of land to farm when he wanted to.  The state pays for education and all healthcare.  Children on other less populated islands board at schools on Nuku Hiva or Pepeete, for example, for middle and high school as well as college.  Travelling costs for school holidays of two weeks or more are covered by the government.  All this is apparently done to encourage young adults to stay on the islands, something which, according to our guide, is a struggle, lack of employment being the main reason for reluctance to return home.

We're here!!!

The "Puddle Jump"

Milly's voyage chart, March 2015 to April 2026

Peter and I had an expectation of what the passage from Mexico to the Marquesas, French Polynesia would be like.   We dreamed of downwind sailing first with the northeast trade winds, then with the southeast trade winds.  Of course, we also expected the part in-between, the Intertropical Convergence Zone, otherwise known as the doldrums, at this time of year just north of the equator.  In this band, sailors expect no wind punctuated by squalls with sudden high wind and lightning.  It's unpredictable.  Forecasts don't provide local detail and squalls result from just one cumulonimbus cloud.  The art is to get through the band at the narrowest point but the width changes constantly.  Both our previous crossings of the doldrums had been relatively uneventful and only once, a total lack of wind.  That was with John and Gill on Mehalah when we just floated passively for one night, no sails and motor off.  Peaceful in the middle of the Pacific.

In our preparations for this "Puddle Jump", inaccurately coined by cruisers everywhere, we joined many online seminars designed for those of us making the leap.  They covered everything, from preparing your boat, passage planning, weather, provisioning, navigation, the islands from the Marquesas through to New Caledonia and all in between.  They offered more information than we had ever had for our Atlantic crossings.  And we prepared longer and better than for our other long passages.

We had confidence that Milly was in great shape.  We had been able to get pretty much every spare part we had thought we might need either when we were in Canada or in Mexico.  Our crew, our old and dear friend, Lee, who had done the long legs of both Atlantic crossings with us, schlepped a suitcase of last minute purchases to us when she came a week before departure.  Our engines and generator were serviced.  Our communication systems rewired and tested.  We'd spent three years preparing, upgrading, repairing, replacing, purchasing three new sails.  The list was long.  When the officials saw us off the dock, we were ready.  Humpback whales greeted us outside the harbour, entertaining us with breaches and fin and tail slaps.  It seemed a positive sign.

We now only needed a weather window.  We use two weather apps which give us wind, waves, swell, current, chance of lightning etc. in six different weather models.  One app even uses the models to show us recommended routes from start point to destination beginning on four consecutive days and based on factors we chose as important to us...like comfort.  The usual length of the passage as predicted by this app was 16-18 days with less than 2 days of motoring.  We had expected 21 days.  We were pleasantly surprised.

PredictWind was our go-to weather App for passage planning.  When you hit play three little boats sail out of the starting point on three different days while the colours of the wind swirl.  The prediction is only very accurate 4-5 days out.  We were looking to avoid the big blue blob - no wind - just outside of the Bay of Banderas.

Even though cleared out of the country, we hung off the hook with a few other boats that were also doing the leap in Punta Mita at the mouth of Bahia de Banderas.  The bottom was cleaned, more meals cooked and frozen, final stowage under beds.  Best of all, Tom, Fer and Chente spent an afternoon with us.  

After three nights, the weather looked promising and we raised anchor, locked the chain in place and sailed out of the Bahia de Banderas, our locale for the past almost four years.  The departure date was March, 29, 2026.

Leaving Punta Mita.  Next stop Nuku Hiva!

First day out a pod of pan tropical dolphins, perhaps 20 or 30, small and spotted, leapt and played at the bow of the boat.  Another good omen.

Meanwhile, the three of us were getting into the groove of a long passage.  By day, with one of us on watch at the helm, the others would read, do crosswords, knit, prepared meals, and later in the passage, a giant jigsaw puzzle.  Lee was chief dishwasher, an endless job.

With Starlink, our passage took on a whole new character.  We were able to access detailed weather forecasts every day which offered a reassuring level of safety to our last ocean crossings.  It also meant we were connected to family and friends.  We Face Timed several times with our children.  And we could purchase the rodkicker as well as complete mundane tasks like banking, tax submission and FP customs, biosecurity and immigration forms.  Bizarre but great.  It was the world news we tried to disconnect from!

By night we took three and a half hour watches - Lee first, beginning at 9pm which meant that Peter started his day at 4am.  It was exhausting but so much better than with only two of us and we were grateful that Lee was game for the adventure.  Each night, Peter would give the parameters of what to do if wind speed increased or dropped, if a squall came, if wind direction changed etc.  Lee took nightly notes.

The first few days were choppy with confused seas meaning swell from several directions and choppy wind waves on top of those.  Not comfortable but not threatening in any way.  We were on a beam reach moving along happily.

Day two or three, Lee's toilet plugged, we figured most likely from a child guest who inadvertently broke the no toilet paper rule.  Peter and I spent several hours on the unpleasant task of emptying the holding tank to no avail.  A plumbing snake did nothing.  Luckily, Milly has two heads.  We all now used one.  No problem really, just not as convenient or private for a guest.

Day three or four: Peter noticed that the boom was falling, coming perilously close to the cockpit roof and two solar panels.  He diagnosed the problem as broken seals in our rodkicker.  Our boom is heavier than most.  It has a "maintamer", an Antares creation.  It is a fibreglass 19 foot long, tapered basket that catches and holds the sail as it comes down making it easier to contain and flake the sail.  Because it is heavy, we had considered removing it - but we hadn't.  Along with the topping lift, a line at the end of the boom going up to the top of the mast, the rodkicker holds the boom up.  We had never considered a spare rodkicker.  I hadn't even known what it was.

With the rodkicker failure, we used the topping lift to hold the boom up.  In the middle of the night, on my watch, I noticed that the boom was swinging up and down wildly.  I roused Peter and we discovered that the old topping lift had completely chafed through on our new sail and was swinging wildly at the top of the mast.  Down came the mainsail.  

Our beautiful, new parasail bought especially for this passage.  Perfect, until...

Unfortunately, instead of our expected downwind sail, we always seemed to be on a beam reach, perfect for the main and a head sail.  And acceptable for our new parasail.  The parasail is for downwind.  It's a specially designed spinnaker which is more stable and, therefore, requires less adjustment with changes in wind direction.  It also can be used over a broader wind angle.  We tested this by using it on a beam reach - 90 degree wind angle.  It worked beautifully!  We had several days and braved a couple of nights of fast, smooth sailing.  Wonderful, until it wasn't.  Peter noticed the block holding the sail at the top of the mast had broken off.  Down came the parasail.

Back to the retired main.  Peter figure that the reefed sail itself would hold up the boom.  After a bit of a struggle with Peter standing on the cockpit roof, bouncing around in rough seas and carefully laying the boom on to the side of the cockpit roof in an attempt to save our solar panels, the reefing line was in place, the mainsail raised and off we went on a reefed (smaller) main but a main, nonetheless.  Until the reefing line chafed.  The main was retired permanently.  

We were down two sails and had two left, the Genoa and the screecher, both headsails.  The screecher is lighter and larger than the Genoa which is a hardy workhorse.  Our dilemma, however, was whether or not to risk using the screecher to go a knot or two faster.   

We fought a counter current for most of the passage.  It's the blue arrow in the centre of the circle and boat.  The boat speed in 3.5knots - strikingly and frustratingly slow at 92 degrees true wind angle and 10 knots of wind without our main.  Argh! And our speed over ground was even less with this darn.current

Meanwhile, the wind continued to be on our beam and we were constantly fighting a contrary current.  Crossing the ITCZ took a few days, often motor sailing, but as often as possible with the tired, old screecher.  During a particularly squally day with unusually solid grey skies, we saw gale force winds.  The silver lining in not having a main with sudden squalls especially at night when you can't see them coming is that you are never caught with too much sail up.  

Dawn, April 13th.  Crossing the equator.  We drank a sip of 70 proof Grenadian rum and offered it to Neptune.  There a message in a bottle into the sea with email address.  If any of you find it, please write.

And Lee became a Shellback.  Peter and I, being old salts, had already graduated.

On one of my watches with the screecher up, a squall hit us with winds gusting over 20 knots - our preferred limit for the screecher was 15.  To decrease the apparent wind, I went downwind going way off course but hopefully putting less stress on the screecher.  I did my best but late the next day, Peter looked up to see a tear along the seam of the screecher.  It was protesting.  Down came the screecher.

We had great faith in the Genoa.  It moved us along at a turtle's pace, still against current.  We used our motors reluctantly but necessarily until the port engine regulator sounded an alarm.  Our starter battery was overcharging.  Peter checked, cleaned and rechecked the connections.  It worked sometimes and went into the red other times.  So, we used it as little as possible, saving it for finally anchoring in Nuku Hiva.

When we arrived on April 20th, after 22 days at sea on one sail and one motor, we were relieved, ecstatic, wowed by the scenery, exhausted and just so happy to put down the anchor.

Entering Taiohae Bay, Nuku Hiva, April 20th.  Stunningly beautiful and such a welcome sight.

On thinking over the passage, it definitely wasn't the downwind sail Peter and I had anticipated and dreamed of.  We knew our screecher was old and worn so it wasn't a surprise that it tore when we pressed it.  We had not thought of a rodkicker spare and had not carried extra line for a topping lift and reefing lines.  We had plenty of other lines for failed halyards or standing rigging.  Monohulls with one motor carry more spare parts than do catamarans with two motors.  We had all the recommended spare parts for cats but not an alternator/regulator.  The spinnaker problem was a fault in design.  And the toilet, well....

Anyway, it didn't matter.  All could be repaired.  Parts could be purchased and shipped.  The important part was that we were in the Marquesas in French Polynesia.  We had sailed 2,847NM across the Pacific Ocean, the longest passage of the "coconut run circumnavigation", in 22 days.  There was a lot to celebrate!  And now it was time to explore.  

We're here, in the land of Tikis!

What has Milly been up to?

As we float at anchor in Nuku Hiva, French Polynesia, it is time to resume blogging.  There have been plenty blog worthy to write about over the three years since the Ecuador trip but the writer has just felt like a blog break.

Where have we been for the past three years?  There has been one wedding, two births - we now have three gorgeous grandsons - one funeral, very sadly, two trips to Norway to visit Peter's mum with a side trip to England to reunite with cruising buddies, and another to Spain in the company of dear friends, three SailGp events with accompanying local exploration.  Last year we hiked from the Atlantic to the Pacific coast of Costa Rica, 265 km in 16 days.  We checked out Mexico City - highly recommend - and a mountain village a truck ride away from our Mexican base in Bahía de Banderas.

Tom and Fer's wedding day.  We were so happy to be part of it!

Sammy, born April, 2024.  Completely unexpectedly, I was attended the birth with Gid.  A privilege and an honour!  Although, a little tough hearing the exclamations of pain from my darling daughter.

Vicente/Chente, three weeks old, with proud and adoring parents.

And this little cutie turned four!

We've spent six months of each year enjoying Stony Lake living.  It was overdue for some TLC after a lengthy period of neglect.  Amazing how fast nature can take over.  With YouTube University as our guide, we have rebuilt two of the walls including windows and door in the original cabin with leaning walls, sinking floors and asymmetrical roof lines.  We have constructed a new dock and built a new cabin with loft from a kit.  We've also enjoyed lots of family time, visits from old friends and three separate visits from cruising friends.  We have discovered that we love living at the cottage during the warmer months.  Life is simple and as busy or relaxing as you want it to be.

Our new loft cabin.  Foundation, deck and cabin built by two (previous) city folks.  Took us all summer.

During our time in Mexico, we cruised a little north and a little south along the coast.  We loved being close to Tom and Fer and now Chente and enjoyed seeing Gid, Em, Leo and Sam each year at Gid's family reunion which, thankfully, happened to be close by.  We got to know the Bay very well and had many close encounters with humpback whales.  

The clan in Punta Mita.  Very happy times! We are so darned lucky!!

But much of the time was spent caring for Milly.  Her systems were showing her age after 10 years living aboard and two ocean crossings.  We knew we wanted to continue west at some point so we took the time in Mexico to prepare and stock up on spares.  When we went to Canada with two carry-ons, we returned with two large duffel bags and a sail or two.  We discovered that importing to Mexico is an uncertain and expensive endeavour.  Oversized luggage on a flight is simpler, more timely and much less costly.  

Over the three years we have replaced our watermaker, replaced and increased the length of our anchor chain as well as windlass and gypsy, replaced our main and Genoa sails, replaced all standing rigging, bought a new parasail for downwind, pampered our engines including the generator which wasn't working, replaced water pumps etc. etc. etc.  The list goes on.  Small things and large.  

We made it to Toronto to celebrate Christmas with these guys.  As you can see, we had a heartwarming family time!

I spent a lot of time sewing with a new industrial sewing machine.  My mum whose skills and talents as a seamstress I now appreciate as extraordinary, taught me the very basics as a teen.  She believed that, rather than paying a bomb for an art or a craft, she could do it all herself, a notion that in my older age, I have somehow inherited.  It becomes a curse when projects include a 21' long sail cover and two cockpit enclosures, one for shade and one for foul weather.  Our cockpit was often ripe with choice words - sewing in a small space with large pieces of canvas that somehow shrink when hemmed, plastic mesh which stretches and, the very worst, plastic that bends awkwardly and scratches, is patience testing.

We were pretty on top of things in the fall of 2025 when an electrician we had hired to replace our AGM batteries with lithium - a major upgrade we knew to be "a game changer" - called us at the cottage to say we had been indirectly hit by lightning and most of our electronics had failed! We immediately began the process of claiming insurance and when we returned to Mexico a less than adequate surveyor came to inspect.  Based on the surveyor's comments, our insurance adjuster initially judged that the damage was due to poor workmanship of the electrician and so our responsibility.  I went into overdrive to prove our lightning claim.  Even though there was an enormous deductible attached, the ultimate bill was almost triple.  I collected a history of lightning strikes during the period we were away and before the electrician was on board as well as the account of other boats in the marina that had been struck.  Eventually, the claim was okayed.  Thank goodness! 

In the new year, the boat was hauled out, bottom painted, engines mounts replaced and realigned - huge messy job - through hulls inspected and one replaced, vulnerable bolts replaced and others de-rusted.   Life raft re-certified, fire extinguishers recharged, propane tanks topped up.  

It is recommended that provisioning cover the passage plus two months of island hopping in the Marquesas and the Tuomotus. Overwhelming! I parboiled and froze veg and berries, stocked up on nuts, beer and nonalcoholic beer, sparkling water, UHT milk, all sorts of cans and bottled products, toilet paper, paper towels, crackers, cheese etc. etc.  Multiple trips with Tom's truck to various supermacados.  Buying was only part of the job.  Then there was storing.  Our port forward berth became a table for drinks under the mattress.  Bins under the settee were full to overflowing.  The pantry was packed, the new once built-in oven space proved to be a perfect place for grains, nuts, dried beans, seeds etc.  

Oh and lots of diesel.  We have never carried so much.  And a good thing we did - foreshadowing for the passage blog.

Finally, came clearing out of Mexico.  We have cleared out of many countries over our 11 years on board.  Only Brazil ranks as complicated and onerous as Mexico.  Multiple forms, copies galore, contrary directions of where to go and who to speak with (in Spanish).  Several days of running around, paying fees and trying to be polite and charming rather than irritable with eyes rolling was exhausting.  Finally, they made an appointment to inspect the boat after which we were not allowed to get off the boat onto the dock and had to leave immediately.  Six people in uniform came to the boat!  One in army camo opened cupboards and asked if we had drugs, ammo, fire arms or nicotine??  The remaining filled out forms with Peter.  

Boater to be.  What else?

And then we left!  It goes without saying that we were, oh so sad to leave Tom, Fer and Chente.  But it felt very good to be off the dock and on our way to a new adventure.

The last day hanging out with the little fam, just before we left.  Fun and games!