Tears to a Wish

Stunning. That’s how Michael saw Nuku Hiva when we arrived. Spired mountains rise from the Pacific Ocean, lush with vegetation until they descend rock-faced into the crashing waves. I get how he might see stunning.

I saw an island on fire. Smoke plumes dotted the Jurassic Park landscape that circled Taiohae Bay. Obviously, the Cannibals I read about in Typee were cooking their dinner, and for good reason– there’s nothing else to eat in French Polynesia. Food scarcity aside, we’d never be too small for the hungry sharks that were swarming as we staked out our territory in the anchorage. That’s right, there were other sailboats there, filled with people who were much crazier than us. Genius, survivalist types who can live on Vegemite alone, fix everything that’s broken on their boat without access to a hardware store, and speak only French to other French people. This was going to be our home for the next ten months, and I wanted to cry.

So I did. Then I called my kids, Mom, Dad, siblings, and lifelong friends. I cried some more. I called my sailing friends and cried less.

This morning, Michael mentioned that we had been on Nuku Hiva for two weeks, and I remembered this quote– “Everything will be all right in the end. If it’s not all right, then it’s not the end yet.” I replaced the word, end with beginning and decided to start here.

The cannibals of the Marquesas past are long gone, which, of course, I knew, and the warriors have been replaced by impressive outrigger canoers. We’ve met sweet Marquesans, plump on fried fish and breadfruit, as well as friendly, fit locals covered head to toe in intricate black tattoos, women with flowers in their hair, and men wearing toothy necklaces. All have been welcoming to us, and we look forward to getting to know more.

Marquesan and French are the official languages here. In Marquesan, Ka Oha means hello, and Koutau nui (I think I have that right) means thank you. My French is coming along. The Marquesans are patient with me, and the sailors, it turns out, speak mostly English.

The food is plentiful but different. Pamplemousee, starfruit, mangoes, dragon fruit, bananas (in endless varieties), lemons, and limes (both bumpy and smooth) grow on trees.

We can buy fruit at the morning market, but sometimes, people like Elizabeth in Hakahetau give it to us straight from their backyard.  Vegetables are scarce. Yogurt, eggs, cheese, chicken, and such can be purchased at the magasin (store) on days when the delivery boat arrives. Baguettes are plentiful in the few towns, and oceanic fish are here for the catching.

The history and the culture are rich. We’ve only scraped the surface thus far and are eager to learn more. If we look amongst the banyan trees hidden deep in the jungle, ceremonial sites are abundant with tikki sculptures.

Ukeleles and wood carvings are handmade by artisans, and it’s evident that Polynesian tattoo artists have earned their worldwide respect. There’s been talk amongst the sailors of pearls, the upcoming Heiva festival, kava kava, pigs roasted in the ground, outrigger races, and more. Only the future will tell what we are fortunate enough to experience firsthand.

I swim every day. The first time we went snorkeling, I strapped a knife to my leg. Then, I realized I wouldn’t stab a shark, and if I did, it would probably eat my arm. So, I traded in my knife for a long orange stick. I haven’t used it yet.

Hardware, shmardware, who needs it? Michael rewired and waterproofed our portable solar panels after an unanticipated (shitty design) electrolysis incident, Craig helped us wrestle our rogue spinnaker into submission and furl it neatly for a minor repair, and I reinforced all of our damaged bug screens to fend off the dreaded biting no-nos, all with onboard supplies!

Today we arrived from Nuku Hiva to Ua Pou, our second of the Marquesas islands. It’s Mordor from The Hobbit, Michael said, joking about the otherworldly pitons. I thought of Manhattan. You know, tall, skinny structures scraping the sky. The similarities are endless.

One thing I know for sure is that the interior will be different from the valley we were in yesterday. The Hakaui Waterfall trail was about spending time with Joren & Simone, the valley, coconut palms, and cascades.

Before that, it was the Anaho Bay to Hatihe’u Bay trail, which was about switchbacks, a barefoot man named Jack, and lunch at Eurl Hinako-Nui.

In Taiohae Bay, it was about hiking the steep inclines, writing my wish on a little piece of paper, and stuffing it into the belly of Tiki Tuhiva. Maybe it’s coming true.

Last remarks

• Without MICHAEL, all the support I got from friends and family afar, our old friends here in French Polynesia- Ralph and Wbeika (SV Flora), our soon-to-be old friends- Simone, Joren (SV Vlinder), Barbie, and Wayne (SV Hope), and our new friends- Hew, Barb, Geordie, Craig, Graeme (SV Eleuthera), and Daniella and Rolph (SV Yello) it would have been hard for me to recover from that initial bout of anxiety and depression. Although I’m not prone to this often, for anyone who suffers from the endless cycle of overwhelming emotions society labels as such, here’s a little reminder to reach out. If you’re ashamed, don’t hide. People understand and don’t mind lending an ear or taking the time to respond to a text. It’s okay to be sad (even if you believe you’re one of the ‘lucky ones.’) And here’s a little secret: you don’t have to be close to those you confide in. You’ll become close by leaning in.