Pitufa.at

…at least our little world on Pitufa We sailed just 2 miles south to the next bay Hanetafau where we’ve found the first calm spot in weeks. It’s amazing how your energy comes soaring back when you sleep through the whole night and no longer constantly bump head and toes on the rocking boat.

We used this rush of energy to explore the island per pedes yesterday. We left the dinghy at the protected little harbour of the charming village Hapatoni, where people told us we’d take about 1 and half hours walking to Hanateio on the other side of the island from which we wanted to hitch a ride back. We started out at 7 o’clock in the morning, hiked up the steep gravel road to the top of the ridge only to find that there was yet another ridge further up to cross and another and then another

In the end it took us about 3 hours to get to Hanateio (which is just a few houses and some copra sheds). We had given up all hope on catching a ride by that time as no car had passed us on the way and the road didn’t look like cars could make it over the rocks and potholes in any case. Just when we wanted to turn back a pick-up truck with two postmen came up behind us. They were on their way to Hanatete (the village in the northeast at the end of the road) and assured us they’d take us back after they’d finished work there. With that assurance we dared exploring further along the mountainous road with its amazing views over the craggy peaks, pleated slopes and black cliffs that fall off into deep bays. We reached Hanatetena by noon, had a picnic, chatted with the locals and waited for the postmen to finish their work on the dodgy internet antenna of the village.

By 2 in the afternoon they were ready to head back and we hopped on the truck bed for a slow and very bumpy ride back to Hapatoni.

We sailed up from Fatu Hiva to Tahuata the day before yesterday, using the last puff of a good easterly breeze before the calm arrived we’re having now. The last days in Fatu Hiva were wonderful (except for the sleepless nights because of the rolling on the boat and the terribly starved dogs ashore), we hiked to the gorgeous waterfall even twice and enjoyed swimming in the cold freshwater pool (the only real refreshment in this heat–the sea temperature’s up to 30 degrees…). On the last day we even managed to straighten the shank of our Danforth anchor using a heavy piece of steel pipe from the village. We had accidentally bent the shank when lifting our stern anchor in Nuku Hiva.

Now we are anchored in Vaitahu. The bays of Tahuata get fuller with sailing boats every day now as the festival in Hiva Oa is getting closer. In the bay of Vaitahu the swell is also entering from 2 directions, but with the help of a stern anchor we’re rather comfy. Dinghy landings are rather adventurous on the exposed dock where the waves break metre high (even there you need a stern anchor), but the walks through the picturesque village and the fertile mountains are worth the hassle.

We have returned to spectacular Baie des Vierges where we made our first landfall in the Marquesas two and a half years ago. The picture of this bay adorns the cover of Ocean7′s current edition

We left Nuku Hiva this morning, will sail past Hiva Oa and Tahuata this night and reach the souternmost island of the Marquesas, Fatu Hiva, tomorrow morning.

At the moment there’s still southwesterly swell coming up (but that should become less frequent and violent as summer comes to the southern hemisphere), at the same time northerly swell comes down (and will become more with winter setting in up there) and in combination with predominant wind plus windseas from the east, finding a calm spot in the open bays of the Marquesas is quite a tricky business… Even in bays that look quite protected on the chart, swell and waves that get reflected from the rocky shores can turn the anchorage into a witches cauldron of confused cross seas and standing waves–in that case even a stern anchor can’t help the situation.

We’re reasonably comfy anchored (of course with a stern anchor that keeps Pitufa’s bow to the swell…) in the giant bay of Taiohae off the main town of the Marquesas on the southern side of Nuku Hiva. Due to the cyclone panic more yachts than in a regular year are anchored here (about 40) and we enjoy the company of a surprisingly international crowd.

When the anchor drops after a long passage, but the boat keeps pitching and rolling merrily, you know you’ve arrived in the Marquesas… Unlike the other archipelagos of Fr. Poly, these islands have no protecting fringe reefs and their coasts and bays are open to the waves and mighty swell of the Pacific. During El Nino years they are supposed to be safely out of the cyclone belt, so we’re happy that we made it here just with today’s official start of the cyclone season. Wherever we went in the Tuamotus, there was no other topic. During the last strong El Nino, French Polynesia was hit several times and the media have triggered a wide-spread panic among the people. Everybody’s expecting the worst, roofs are strapped down to mooring weights and even the woman at the post office in Tikehau gave me an unbelieving stare when I casually mentioned that we were here by sailing boat. Don’t you know that the cyclone season is coming?

The passage here wasn’t easy and last night was extra annoying with squalls that changed the wind directions quicker than we could tack the boat (shit, now we’re sailing right back on our GPS track, let’s tack again…) and when the wind then died down completely, we decided to head for the nearest island Ua Pou instead of motoring another 25 nm to the main island Nuku Hiva. This way we’ve come back to the bay that was our last stop in the Marquesas exactly two years ago (before heading to the Gambier again). A group of dolphins accompanied us in.

The anchorages in the Marquesas may lack comfort, but they certainly have style. Here in Vaiehu at the western coast of Ua Pou we are surrounded by vertical cliffs and towering spires. The bay looks quite protected on the chart, but the swell somehow makes it in anyway. It looks like the ocean’s breathing in first, rocks emerge from the sea, water sparkles in countless cascades down the shore and then the swell surges into the bay, lifting the boat gently, but crashing violently on the cliffs and spraying out from blow holes all around us. This dramatic spectacle is repeated twice a minute, but never gets boring.

Onyl 75 miles to go, so we hope to arrive in Nuku Hiva tomorrow morning.

Today we have got a nice ESE-erly breeze and are on a direct course to Nuku Hiva. 190 miles to go on a course of 19 deg. Summer is coming and we are sailing towards the equator — it’s getting incredibly hot…

The light winds continued. This morning it was calm enough to take a bath in the Ocean (while holding on to the ladder). Now we are on the way north towards the Marquesas.

After a night of very light winds the dreaded calm finally got us this morning and we ended up motoring (the waves were still too high to just sit on the water…). After a few hours the engine died–the clogged fuel line was fortunately easy to find and clear.
Now we’ve just got enough of a breeze to keep Pitufa sailing again with 2 to 3 knots (an old lady on a rollator walker could overtake us, but we don’t complain as long as the sails don’t flap). Keep your fingers crossed that the breeze will stay (or pick up) during the night

The forcasts claim, there is no wind today, but we are riding 20+ knots from the SE. Wild, but definitely better than motoring.

We are out at sea again. Not much wind at the moment in this area, so we hope it will pick up soon.