The Tikis

We can't leave The Marquesas without referring to the tikis, the carved stone figures familiar to us through the art of Paul Gauguin.  Some believe that Tiki was the first human or the god who created the Marquesan islands.  Tiki now refers to the particular type of statue unique to the Marquesas.  And they are abundant, whether on archeological sites, lining the harbour in Nuku Hiva, or in parks, street corners, public administrative buildings, markets etc. etc.  Some are new reproductions but many are original.  

Cruisers are warned before coming that French Polynesians are very conservative.  Before arriving, we read that women should cover their knees and shoulders.  Indeed in the Marquesas, most of the local women wore long skirts with blouses or dresses.  In the Societies, any garb seemed acceptable although the older women still wore long, colourful skirts or dresses often with a wreath of flowers on their heads.  Going topless and nudity are definitely taboo, even on the deck of your own anchored boat.   It is considered to be disrespectful of the local people.  It is ironic, then, that many of the tikis, both modern reproductions and ancient, are anatomically explicit.  Like this one whose rock hard penis has had a good rub from passers by.

Or this giant, modern tiki that sits proudly on a specially developed hill over-looking the harbour on Nuku Hiva.  A tattooed warrior and...

very pregnant woman into whose naval women can put a message about their own fertility

She comes complete with labia, vagina and clitoris. 

To orient us to the islands, we took a private tour with a local man, during our first days in Nuku Hiva.  He was a proud Marquesan who introduced us to historical Polynesian culture and to current practices.  He and most of the men and women (and many of the cruisers who arrive in the Marquesans) were decorated with tattoos that tell a story in Polynesian symbolism.  We had many friends who spent hours getting their tat each with their own story of choice.  Very cool but not our thing.

This guy was in a site that was completely undeveloped.  All the tikis were aged and mossy.  Delightful!

The archeological sites, or me'ae, are high in the forested hills, not along the coast which held greater risk of tsunamis, invaders and landslides.  Some of the sites are well-developed for historical tourism, others seem lost in the woods. 

The raised platform of huge rocks moved and placed solely with human strength was the site of some less savoury activities.

Ink wells for tattoos dotted the platform.

Women who had more than one sexual partner, were placed in the pit that I stand in front of and sacrificed.  Cannibalism also took place until the last century.

Ancient and enormous banyan trees were planted beside the sites to house the bones of the dead.  The building in the background may have been a dwelling or several on the boundary of a field would act as bleachers from which to watch the festivities.  

Festivities - games, dances - took place in the central field surrounded by viewing shelters for the crowd.  Since the late 20th century, Polynesians have embraced their ancient cultural practices.  The fields of these sacred sites are again used for celebrations.

Our guide took us to the obstetric ward where women went to give birth.  This statue of a mother holding her dead infant is incredibly reminiscent of the pieta.

According to the guide this is the delivery bed.  Yikes - no comfort there.

The views were stunning!

Milly is one of those tiny dots in the harbour down there.

The Marquesas in Pics

Because of our need for speed with our change of plans, we scooted around the Marquesas.  Even though we didn't stay long we felt we had a good sampling of the Marquesa Archipelago, touching down on five of the six inhabited islands.  We could have hiked a lot more and taken in more island culture but we were on the move.

Sailing from island to island is no easy feat.  With an eastern set to the wind, each island apart from Ua Pou is upwind from Nuku Hiva and from each other.  We had to wait for a weather window with as much north in the wind direction as possible.  The usual trades are east to southeast.  Cruisers with a destination in mind and a timeline always need to grab the weather window when it occurs which means they may leave before they want to or have a much prolonged stay.

Limited time meant we were forced to pick and choose where we would visit.  Ua Pou had been recommended by a friend and Fatu Hiva was the most talked about destination in the Marquesas.  Of course, Fatu Hiva was the most difficult to get to because of wind direction.  It meant a couple of three day hops touching down on islands in between: Ua Huka, Hiva Oa and Tahuata, all of which tantalized to explore.  

If I had to choose a favourite Marquesan island, it would have to be Ua Pou.  As soon as we the island came into view, we were awestruck by the piton bouquet.  The tallest was rarely out of the clouds but the view from the anchorage was still breathtaking.

A hike from the anchorage, through a tiny town with sound of beautiful song and drums coming from the picturesque church to a quintessential waterfall and a quick freshwater dip.  Pretty darn nice!

Obvious sedimentary soft rock carved by the sea, topped by a dripping, petrified flow of a different colour.  We often wish we had more geological smarts.  The topography of the Marquesas and the rest of French Polynesia made this a daily desire.

The runway on Ua Pou!  Uphill to stop, downhill to pick up speed before hitting the waves?

New views of the pitons from the harbour of the main town of Ua Pou.  We climbed up to the base of one but the view is always more dramatic from the sea.

Truck stops are popular in smaller towns.  Restaurants and cafes are open from lunch (noon to about 2pm) and dinner (6:30 at the earliest).  Truck stops only close for a couple of hours in the afternoon and, so, we frequented them more regularly.  This one served North American fare - burgers etc.  Crepes and pizzas are often the specialty of others.  Here, we had the one and only slice of tomato that I ate in French Polynesia.  When I asked where the chef got it, she couldn't tell me - her secret store I guess.

In each of the harbours that we went to, there were at least a handful of paddlers.  More often there were clubs with coach boats, multiple canoes: single-handed to eight people, all women, all men and kids.  The canoes were very sleek with outriggers.  These two were waiting for breaking waves to surf but most did laps of the harbour until twilight.  It was a serious business, training for ocean racing from island to island.  A huge and important part of the FP culture.

Milly in the main town harbour at Ua Puo.  Wide angle.  Tiny town with magnificent backdrop.

Never get tired of those pitons.  They are amazing!

If anyone who doesn't have access to a private boat wants to visit the Marquesas, this is probably the best way.  It's a cargo/passenger ship.  It stops at each inhabited island on a two week or one month schedule.  Passengers go ashore while the cargo is unloaded, usually taking a full day.  The arrival of the ship is a big deal for the islanders, too.  We happened to be at Tahuata when the ship came in.  The road to the harbour was lined with locals selling trinkets and fresh fruit to the passengers or waiting for a delivery of a fridge, motorcycle, clothes etc.  The grocery stores were closed for the day while the owners collected their orders and restocked the shelves.  Although used to buying provisions in quantity when we find something we want, we were careful not to do so in the Marquesas and the Tuamotus.  To ensure that locals get what they need, cruising etiquette is to limit themselves to one or two of an item.  The ship comes only once a month.  

Stunning view of a spot-lighted rocky outcrop on the otherwise shadowed Ua Huka.  We spent a night in a  fjord like bay, so narrow with cliffs so high, swell coming in and skies so grey that it was a little spooky.  Even so there were two intrepid paddlers doing laps until the grey light became black.

Another brief overnight stop at Hiva Oa.  At the mouth of the bay, we spotted a religious sculpture, seemingly on a sheer cliff.

How the heck did they create that?  And why there??

On our way into Fatu Hiva, incredible but treacherous looking ridges plunging into the sea.

After anchoring in 36 meters depth with 110 meters of chain - an easy record for us, very deep and very long - we sat back to enjoy the view of the harbour which was bathed in a pre-sunset honeyed glow with the mountains behind still shrouded in cloud.

Seems that the goats liked the view of the ocean.  Not sure how restful their choice of overnight bed will be but I think it's a favourite as we have seen them featured in many cruiser pics.

Inside the tiny, rugged Fatu Hiva harbour.  A local boy was badly bitten by a shark about a year ago here.  We didn't go swimming.

Peter surveying the scene.  No beaches here.

Sweet, well-cared for village.  Population of the entire island is 600 with a (slightly) bigger town down the coast.

We explored on a Sunday.  The small general store was open for an hour or two after church.  We followed the example of the many locals who were shopping by removing our shoes.  

A copra drying station.  Copra is one of the most important industries of the Marquesas where coconut palms grow very well, allowing a year round harvest.  Coconuts are hand harvested by climbing the trees and cutting them down with a machete.  The husk and water is removed and then the flesh or kernel is broken apart and dried.

The drying process is completed within an open hut with a metal roof where the sun beats down.  The kernels are spread out on a raised trestle table. This reduces the moisture content in the kernel from 50% to 6% or less, a process that takes about a week.  During this time the copra is turned to prevent mould growth. Finally, the copra is bagged, shipped to Tahiti and exported to Europe, Asia or North America where it is processed into oil for various uses.  Coconut oil is impossible to find in French Polynesia!

A goat farm - boulders, dirt, palm trees and goats.  A cow counts itself lucky to be tied at the side of the road looking on?  We have seen only a few cows here, most are alone and tied to a tree.  Same with pigs.  Goats rule!

We enjoyed a lovely hike along a scantly-used road and then on a trail through the forest to a waterfall.  The waterfall itself wasn't up to par and the pool was stagnant but the hike was spectacular.  

The weather window was good so after a full day, we decided to head off on a three day passage to the next French Polynesian archipelago. The Tuamotus.  Farewell, spectacular Marquesas.  So honoured to touch your shores.  We have never seen anything like you. 

"Super" El Niño Forces A Change of Plans

Milly sitting pretty at Raroia East Anchorage, Tuamotus, FP

Cruisers commonly say that their sailing plans with respect to timing and destination is written in the sand, impacted by factors beyond our control, wind direction, wind strength, seasons, visitor pick-ups and drop-offs and changing whims.  Thus, our change in plans is not unexpected but it is a major one and requires a real mission.

The chance of a "Super" El Niño had lodged in my brain even before leaving Mexico.  Although North American news has reported it's effects on the Eastern Seaboard and the Caribbean as a possible relief from hurricanes and tropical storms in the area, they have neglected to mention the increased risk and severity of storms in the South Pacific and the broader area where these storms (read cyclones) may occur. 

In descending order from safe(r) to least safe:  The Marquesas, The Tuamotus and Tahiti and Moorea in the Society Islands.  Once you sail to the Society Islands all others are upwind.  In the Pacific that usually means crashing into waves, motoring and discomfort.  A pretty good reason to opt out or remain in the Marquesas.

Our insurance covers us during cyclone season, Dec 1 to April 30, if we are east of 150 degrees west.  Going from west to east, against the prevailing wind and moving from more to less risky the area includes Tahiti and Moorea and the archipelagos of the Tuamotus, the Marquesas, and the Gambiers in French Polynesia- a great deal of options over a huge area of ocean.  But keep in mind that once we went from one archipelago to the next, each a multi day passage, there is little desire to go upwind to return to the safer area from whence we came.  Our intention was to get a Long Stay visa for French Polynesia and stay at least a year, perhaps two, two years being the visa time limit.  

Ua Puo in the Marquesas was my favourite island in the Marquesa Archipelago.  Incredibly strange and dramatic rock peaks. 

We could stay in the Marquesas, furthest east and north, where there has not been a cyclone since 1983.  They are considered "safe".  A decent option.  However, will this super El Niño year be the exception? Will there be more storms of greater severity even in the Marquesas? Totally unknown. Also, we would need to stay for over a year, arriving April 2026 until the end of the hurricane season, April 2027.  Although stunningly beautiful with sensational hiking, there are only six inhabited islands, 12 total.  The anchorages are deep, mostly narrow, with rock cliffs and coast.  There are no mangroves to push into and tie to for protection.  We didn't see ourselves staying for a year or feeling safe in a tropical depression and neither of us were interested in essentially staying put for another year after just getting back into the swing of the sea and the excitement of exploring.  We both agreed that the Marquesas was out as a cyclone refuge.

Floating the chain, usually with four fenders.  The chain is held up above the bottom in swags between the fenders in order to keep the chair from wrapping around.  Despite always floating the chain in each Tuamotu anchorage, the chain was caught twice.  Getting it unstuck requires patience and gritted teeth.  I raised the anchor until the gypsy could no longer turn, sometimes pulling our entire bow down.  I'd then voice a nervous swear word and drop the chain.  Peter would then approach from a different angle for another try.  Repeat.  Until at last the anchor suddenly came up without further protest.  As the line for each fender came up to the bow roller, I would scramble forward on my tummy with a boat hook to grab the line and haul up the fender, unclipping the carabiner from the chain.  This is not a process to be done with any king of time pressure especially incoming foul weather.  

The Tuamotus, completely different but also sensational, are atolls created by a sinking volcano leaving an oval reef with a pass or two that boats can navigate.  The ocean waves pound on the reef while the lagoon inside is calm as a lake with only wind waves to deal with.  There are bommies throughout the lagoon - coral reef in the form of a column that reach within a meter or less of the surface.  These, of course, are boating hazards but with satellite imagery, maneuvering at the right time when the sun is high and behind the boat, they are easy to see and avoid.  The bommies and lower patches of coral also require a special anchoring technique called "floating the chain".  Fenders or pearl farm buoys are attached to the chain by a line every 10 meters or so as the anchor is let down into an easily visible patch of sand even in 20m depth.  To take the anchor up, the floats have to be unclipped from the chain as they appear under the bow roller.  This takes at least 20 minutes, sometimes much longer if the chain caught on coral despite floating it.  As well, the atoll reef is actually broken into "motus" - it is not a continuous reef.  Instead there are narrow channels that most often connect the ocean to the lagoon at high tide.  Depending on the height of the ocean waves crashing on the reef, ocean water also seeps over the reef into the lagoon.  This means that the lagoon fills with water and the current going through the pass changes with the tide but is also highly impacted by the height of the water in the lagoon compared to in the ocean.  Unless timed properly the pass has a current similar to a rushing river going through it.  If the current going out due to the height difference is against the current going in due to tide the waves in the pass are "boxy" and dangerous to navigate.  On top of all this, the height of the reef above sea level is negligible.  Although there are palms and brush growing on some of the motus with the occasional building and even town on it, there is little to no protection from the wind.  All of these factors, suggested to us that the Tuamotus were not the place to ride out foul weather.

Stunningly beautiful, incredible blues and dramatic surf breaking on the reefs of the atoll.  Truly awesome!  The surf is filling up the lagoon and making the pass current more difficult to navigate.  With high seas, this could be quite dramatic and difficult to predict the best time to leave or enter.

The KonTiki anchorage on Raroia.  We were the only boat there.  It was sublime.  You can see though that what land there is would not provide much protection from high wind.  The water might be only affected by the wind, not the swell and, therefore, relatively flat.  But a strong wind could still mean dragging anchors onto lee shores or bommies.  For all these reasons, the Tuamotus was not where we felt safe to wait out a "Super El Niño" cyclone season.

On to the Society's.  Tahiti and Moor'ea were within our insured territory for cyclone season.  We spent 2 weeks in Moor'ea.  When we arrived, we thought we could spend the season there.  It was beautiful.  Large enough for great hiking, inhabited enough for good provisioning, restaurants etc.  But it is further west, hence, at greater risk for cyclones, especially this year.  And although lovely, we accomplished the best hikes while we were there and weren't keen on spending a year between the two islands.  

The mouth of Cook's Bay, our two week anchorage in Moorea.  When we arrived, we thought, why leave?

Milly with the southwest side of Cook's Bay backdrop.

Cook's Bay west.  We hiked along the edge of the pineapple field up to the lower part of the ridge and then down to a juice factory for some refreshing sampling.

Southeast side of Cook's Bay.  We hiked up to the ridge beside the higher visible peak.  A very small village at the head of the bay offered a decent supermarket, a few stands of fruit, a school, police/firestation, a couple of restaurants and a very small residential area.

And so, after lots of discussion and deliberation, we have decided to leave French Polynesia after our trip to Canada for the summer.  We will try to visit the rest of the Society Islands before our 23 days left on our 90-day visa expires.  Then we will do four multi-day passages, stopping first in the Cook Islands, hopefully a pitstop in Nuie, then to Tonga, then to the Minerva Reef and ending in New Zealand.  We have consulted a weather guy from NZ who counsels that we arrive in NZ as early as possible in October to avoid as much of the increasingly foul weather as possible on the way.  Realistically, we hope to be there by the end of October, keeping our fingers crossed that we will have ample weather windows.

French Polynesia has proven to be astoundingly beautiful.  I will recount more of our experiences with especial attention to the views, in later posts that I hope are coming soon.  I wanted to get this change in plans out there to explain why we are moving so fast.  We are disappointed not to give FP more time to explore but we are excited to be on our way as well.  We're only half way across the Pacific Ocean.  Thankfully, for the next half there will be island stops along the way.  Stay tuned.

The current plan is to leave French Polynesia by the first week of September and then race the weather through Cook Islands, Niue, Tonga, Minerva Reef to New Zealand, north island.