THE NORTH SIDE OF HIVA OA

As much as we loved the anchorage of Hanamoenoa, it was time for a change and on June 6th we set out on a short sail up to Hanamenu on Hiva Oa’s northwestern corner. We’d a brisk sail into confused seas around the western point of the island, taking in the grandeur of its windswept mountains and landing a fantastic tuna, which Shan gamely filleted under way. By the time we were motoring in to Hanamenu, admiring the long horsetail of water cascading from cliffs just south of the bay, large fillets were chilling and we were ready for sashimi!

We dropped anchor in river browned water near the head of the long, narrow bay, and once settled in, celebrated the start of our Anniversary Week and our first decent fish for a while with cocktails and the promised sashimi. It was delightful. We watched the sun set as locals set palm frond bonfires ashore, serving the dual purpose of tidying up the fronds and perhaps also bug deterrence. We were to find out just how buggy the area can be the next day.

We’d an odd experience when we paddle boarded in to the small, well kept village the next day, finding it deserted. We’d heard a water taxi go out at dawn, and it must have taken the entire village with it. It was a holiday weekend and we’d heard there were celebrations over at Atuona, but it was eerily quiet and disconcerting to find no people, and no dogs, cats or chickens at all in the village. It was like a scene from “The Quiet Earth”. We’d brought in some gifts for the local kids and had hoped to buy some fruit, but that wasn’t to be the case. We settled for exploring more pre-European ruins in the jungle behind the settlement, and having a quick dip in a beautiful freshwater pool by the village. It was necessarily quick because the noseeums around the pool were merciless! We’d have appreciated some of that bonfire smoke just then, as without bug spray we were beset and scarpered back to Tino Pai, anchored enough offshore to be clear of the biters. Even so, Shan rued her new bite bumps for several days.

That night somewhere offshore an ill mix of wind and sea caused a steep swell to roll into the anchorage, a marked contrast to our comfortable first night in the bay. We both slept poorly and decided to motor over to Baie Hanaiapa about 9 nm east which, from a visit during our tour out of Atuona, we knew to be a pretty bay offering good protection. There we planned to catch up with Curtis and Julie on SV Manna, and spend a few days exploring. After a short motor into a steep chop, admiring the long horsetail of water cascading from cliffs just south of the bay and passing the large head-shaped rock guarding the bay, we were glad to be welcomed into a much calmer anchorage by a pod of the local dolphins.

Hanaiapa is a reasonably large village by Marquesan standards, prettily kept with rows of brightly variegated plants lining houses and fruit orchards. The inevitable pae-paes, the stone platforms on which pre-European natives built their living spaces, are scattered through the village and in many places make up the foundations of modern homes. We wandered around exploring the village and met Jean Yves, a middle-aged gentleman living in a hut by the beach on the east side of the bay. He collects information on visiting boats, each crew making an entry in a tattered notebook he keeps. After adding our own details, he let us read back through notes left by cruising boats from all over the world. He could read only the French entries; we spent a happy time with him using Google translate so he could read those in English. We’d say hi whenever we passed his hut during our stay, and he gave us fruit, including a big bunch of green bananas, the small, sweet local variety which we enjoyed picking from as they ripened over the next week.

We snorkeled the east wall of the bay and were delighted to find a couple of large manta rays using the current along the wall to feed. As ever, these magnificent, intelligent fish were curious about us and we had a nice time watching them circle around, sometimes gliding in place like hang gliders in the current. It was so nice we went back the next day with our hookah diving gear and did it again, this time to spend time down with them in the blue. They seemed unperturbed by our bubbles, though a couple of curious black tipped reef sharks circled around wondering what exactly we were.

A nearly four mile hike to the east of Hanaiapa lies Hanatekuua, a golden sand beach with an exposed reef guarding its western side, fronted by an open grass area lined with palm trees and a few ramshackle homes and copra drying racks. We spent a pleasant day hiking over with Bully, a local dog who decided we were the most interesting thing happening around Hanaiapa. With a hound-like head, red-gold mid-sized body and short little legs, he was quite the character. I thought he looked like the lovechild of a Rhodesian Ridgeback and Corgi, Shan said he was the canine version of Tyrion Lannister. We swam, relaxed with our books in the shade of a palm tree, then hiked back in time to make the boat before dark.

It would have easy to stay longer in Hanaiapa, but a forecast for several days of higher ESE winds and the resulting larger wrap-around swell into the bay meant we had a small window to move to our next island and the better protection offered at Anaho on Nuku Hiva’s north coast. We spent the day of Friday 13th readying Tino Pai for our first overnight in a while, and raised anchor as the sun lowered for the rolly 90nm sail to Nuku Hiva. We were excited to see a new island!