Where have we been?

Where Have We Been?
A lot of places since our last blog post!
We survived the 28 day passage from the Galapagos to the Marquesas. That is not a trip any of us would be in a hurry to do again. Very long, very boring, no wind or bad winds and very confused and unsettling seas. I guess the good news is that one knows one can do it if you have to.

First landfall in Marquesas was Fatu Hiva, described as the most photographed anchorage in the world. It is hard to find words that capture the majesty of the narrow bay (The Bay of Virgins). We arrived at about 5:30am in the semi dark. After dropping anchor, we sat in the cockpit to toast Ransom and ourselves for a successful passage. As the sun rose slowly, our view of the shore kept ascending and ascending to reveal that we were surrounded by huge black pinnacles rising hundreds of feet into the lightening sky.

As the scene changed from smoky grey to softer, more welcoming greens and browns, we found ourselves looking onto a lush oasis of soft green grass, palm trees, a small church and a soccer field with a few houses and outbuildings nestled peacefully at the feet of eight huge monolithic cathedrals of hard, ragged stone that had withstood the erosive forces that had softened the surrounding hills into rounded, lush green dollops. The contrast was rather like the image of a kitten sleeping peacefully between the feet of an elephant.

We were later joined by about 8 boats who also discovered that these impressive stone guardians of the bay formed a natural funnel that channeled winds often approaching 25 knots down into our little anchorage, more than enough to wake you up at 3 am to see if your anchor has kept you in the Bay.

Several days were spent there, with some shore parties discovering local waterfalls, bucolic valleys and meeting the locals (all 300 of them). Yours truly was boat bound with the digestive
byproduct of dehydration (enough said).

Next we had a lovely day sail over to Atuona on Hiva Oa, the major port in the Marquesas. A busy place that is open to an unpleasant surge from the sea that requires a stern anchor to keep ones bow into the waves. Too embarrassing to explain, but we left one there

Much was to happen here. Sue Wallace and John Hardy, who I had met in Stuart, Fl. last November, and the owners of the boat they were crewing on, had by mutual consent decided
to part company. This left Sue and John somewhat stranded in middle of the South Pacific. The ever gracious Ransom figured that if we could find an acceptable berth for our newest crew member, Robert Coles, then Sue and John could sail with us (Pip and me) to Papeete.

They were staying at a little jewel of hotel high on a cliff overlooking Ransom at anchor, so yours truly decided to give the crew some reprieve and joined them for a few days of R&R, excellent food and considerably better wine than Ransom held in her holds.

As someone once said, "Things fall by their own weight (into place)". It turns out that OM, a cat, was in need of crew and welcomed Robert on board. Several days later Sue and John and a tremendous amount of their gear were shoe horned into my cabin which had been deemed as appropriate lodging for them, while I was to sleep in the foc'sle with Pip or wherever.

This was our first experience with the "methode Francais" when it comes to customs, immigration and such. We had been warned at great length about the gravity with which these matters were taken by the officials. Of much concern was the amount of alcohol one had on board. We dutifully presented ourselves at the Gendarmerie (which handles such matters) fully armed with a detailed list of wine, beer, etc.

After waiting a good 45 minutes (get used to it) I was presented with numerous forms having shown our Zarpe, crew list, ships papers and anything else that looked official. One of the many forms I had out was a Customs Declaration at the bottom of which was a large box asking for a full disclosure of; firearms, ammunition, tobacco, drugs, animals, and of course, alcohol. The most pleasant gentleman looked at, took his pen and drew a line through that box saying,
"Not to worry, c'est rien".

We were then off to the Post Office to post a bond that would ensure that the government had enough of our money to buy us a plane ticket home in the event that we decided to jump ship
and try to live in French Polynesia. Bond for US citizens is about $1600 which is to be returned
to us on or departure from Bora Bora.

After waiting in line for about 45 minutes, we were told to come back after lunch (2:30pm). On our return we waited for about another hour and were finally summoned to the desk where we stood for another ½ hour while the Post Office man shuffled papers, consulted a computer multiple times and finally appeared with a sheaf of some 20 forms which he had to fill out. It was finally our turn to sign the 20 forms, and present our credit cards for payment, cash is not accepted, don't ask me why.

In order to ensure the cash is an instant transfer to the Post Office account, the charge is made as a cash advance. I now know that you may have a credit line of $30,000 on your card, but your cash advance limit is probably $500. Problems ensued and were solved and we were back to the Gendarmerie for final clearance which was granted, I think.

We had to repeat some of this process in order to "swap out" crew.

Sue is gifted with a tremendous amount of energy and happens to be a very good cook, so she was given charge of provisioning and general galley matters. So much provisioning was undertaken, and Ransom's lockers stuffed.

We then took off for a few days to Ua Po with a nice little harbor, diesel fuel, propane and much sought after internet access. The small town (name) is well equipped with grocery stores and what needs you. The main attraction for the cruising set is an outdoor café on the dock with good coffee, passable food and free internet. The latter being highly taxed at all times of day.

Believe it or not, more provisioning was required. Numerous trips with canvas bags following
Sue around. The boxed wine we had bought previously had all turned to vinegar so replenishment was in order.

Our Blue Planet "agents" Luc and Jackie who has previously joined us were masterful in answering questions about clearances and forms and obtaining the duty free certificate for fuel which we needed.

One is required to make an appointment at the fuel dock which is a huge, imposing and positively unfriendly concrete structure designed to handle 600 ft. freight ships, not little 50' ladies like Ransom. We had been that one had to pick their day for fueling as the sea swell would positively smash a sailboat against the dock no matter how fat their fenders were. The general theory is to drop an anchor off the fuel dock and back in and tie off stern to. This does not work for Ransom as she has dinghy davits protruding from her stern which would crumple like aluminum foil if they even brushed up against the concrete monster.

On the day in question, yesterday, we gingerly approached the Monstrous Thing only to discover six foot long by four foot wide rubber roller/fenders to hold cargo ships off the wall.
Their spacing was such that you had to land against one of them, getting stuck between two of them would surely have been embarrassing, painful and demand extensive and expensive repairs. Crew having been briefed on the expected procedure, yours truly brought Herself into the desired position only to hear a voice from the Monstrous Thing shouting, "You can't do that, you have to go out, drop an anchor and back in." Not eager to engage in lengthy discourse (realizing that we had three seconds to either get on the dock, or get off of it, FAST) I invited crew to secure lines and announced to the voice on the Monstrous Thing, "We have just done it! We are not moving."

Mission accomplished, we took off for Baie D'Anaho where I sit now. Our approach was off some rather ominous headlands, which are even more so when you can't see them in the dark. (How inaccurate do you think these charts really are?) This bay has a long narrow entrance and is very deep with bold sides, water goes from 180ft to 12ft in half a heartbeat. Ransom has entered a lot of harbors and anchorages at 3 am (this is made somewhat easier with a radar that works). This was the darkest approach I have ever seen.

Fortunately our cruising partners on board Libby were already anchored and expecting us for dinner and their AIS image showed on our chart plotter. Long story short, the anchor held us
right next to Libby. A sedative rum or two was taken (for medicinal purposes only) and yours truly fell sound asleep in Libby's cockpit after a delicious goat curry.

Yesterday and today have spent snorkeling on a beautiful reef about 50 feet behind us. Glad we didn't meet that on arrival! Propeller zinc replaced, deck light bulbs switched out (going to all LEDs in Papeete) and some polishing accomplished. Still waiting for Sue to give me a "Number
Three" haircut, whatever that is. Most of the time my hair appears to look like that guy from the movie Back to The Future.

Baie D'Anaho is home to an abundant population of Manta Rays whose wing span can reach 6 feet. If you are in the water at the right time and they are in the right mood, it is like
swimming with massive puppy dogs. They swim around you, over you and under you in a most playful manner. They don't seem the least concerned about your presence in their water and actually like to look at us as much as we like to look at them.

Day is coming to a close, crew is ashore and I am (obviously) writing this.

One more day here in paradise, only one other boat in totally protected calm huge bay, with four barely visible island houses in sight. Tomorrow night we set sail for Fakarava Atoll in the Tuamotos. It is roughly 580 miles; therefore 4 -5 days.

Sue and John have turned out to be perfect for Ransom. Great attitude, humor, willingness, and patience with yours truly. I must say the food on board is much improved as has general condition of galley. We look forward to our time together.



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