This morning we dropped anchor at Atuona Harbor on Hiva Oa Island, of the Marquesas Island group. The rattle of the anchor chain punctuated the end of the crossing. Since raising the anchor last, in Cabo San Lucas, we’ve traveled 2,844 nautical miles, at an average speed of 5.9 knots, over 21 days, with no significant gear failure or injury. We only motored a total of 14 hours during the passage. Darn good. Our passage time is also good, though we generally followed a philosophy of not pushing the boat, dropping down to reefed main and jib at night, etc. The last approach to Atuona was interesting. We sighted land yesterday afternoon, (serendipitously enough, while on a satphone call to my mother!). To see rising out of the water the small island of Fatu Huku, after nothing but sea all around us for so many days, was momentous. It was sunset, the island was backlight in the west, and the trade wind clouds obscured the setting sun but in turn were aflame with brilliant golds, reds and other sunset hues. Yet another one of those views reminiscent of a William Blake lithograph, hinting at the mystical wonder of the world, which we’ve been blessed with so often on this crossing.
With nightfall, Anson and Devon took on the first shift, until midnight. They dodged squalls and sailed Anthea 20 more miles to landfall. Kim took over at midnight. I was hailed to come topsides around 1:30. It was pouring rain, squall winds were swirling and all hands were needed on deck to shorten sail, run with the squall, and keep in mind our position relative to the nearby islands, in pitch dark with no visibility. Then from 2:30 to dawn we forereached, slowing Anthea to about 1.5 knots to allow our approach to Atuona to coincide with first light. Wind was consistently 18-20 knots during this time. Morning broke with a line-up of more squalls. We chose to ride out the first couple and hoped a break in the weather would allow us to nip into Atuona and anchor before the next one hit. Fortunately, this strategy worked. The steep, intense green slopes, mountains and cliffs of Hiva Oa, bathed in the early morning light and bright from the recent rain, were spectacular to behold.
It’s now almost 5pm. We’ve been ashore, checked in at the gendarmerie, enjoyed baguette sandwiches and had a good first short visit, replete with a hitchhike return to the boat in an old Land Rover. My French is rusty, but serviceable. We are all exhausted and the boat’s a total mess. Kim fell asleep twice while eating her sandwich on a bench in front of a store and has been asleep in the v-berth since we got back to Anthea 4 hours ago. The boat is littered from bow to stern with wet clothing and damp items. We’re looking forward to the opportunity to get Anthea shipshape again; this will include diving to clean her bottom and removing the unsightly rim of barnacles that grew on her during the passage – but not here, as apparently this is a sharky anchorage.
I’ll close by quoting the last verse of John Mansfield’s Sea Fever, from which Sir Francis Chichester drew the title of his famous book “The Lonely Sea and the Sky”. Thanks to my mother for providing us copy of this great poem, whose last verse is as follows:
I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life, To the gulls’ way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife. And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.
Our long trick is over and we’re all looking forward to quiet sleep and a good dream tonight.
Mark (Atuona, Hiva Oa, Marquesas, French Polynesia)
11 thoughts on “April 25 Landfall!”
so glad you are safely there. Of course we have checked every half hour today since sunrise to hear that you were in safely. Now we too will go to bed , knowing that our loved ones are safe and sound!
Hurrah! What a fabulous accomplishment! We have been waiting with baited breath for each day’s post, and especially for today’s. Lots of love and big hugs to all.
P.S. We hope you’re able to post photos soon.
Oops: bated breath
Congratulations! Jon and I have been following your journey. He understands sailing, and
I appreciate the sense of adventure and the descriptive writing. Marilyn
Bienvenues a Atuona, mes amis! Amusez-vous bien a cette belle isle!
What an amazing crossing, I have followed each day on Google Earth plotting your location from the comfort of my office, armchair travel at it’s best.
And amazing enough Harry finished his radiation treatments today. The doctor said it’s looking good.
We’re sending you all love and hugs, Peter, Mary, Harry and Ulee
Mazel tov!! Wow!!! Bravo!!!!! I have so loved reading your posts. Enjoy land time.
I could hardly believe you all would dare to cross the Pacific Ocean. After reading your absolutely fabulous blogs I realize that you were ALL so well prepared, so technically savvy, so up for the trip and so wonderfully in tune with each other, with the elements and with your soon-to-be polished and merry Anthea that you could hardly fail to succeed in the Adventure of a Lifetime, To Be Continued! Thank you for the beautiful descriptions and poetic observations. We are proud, proud, proud, quite likely to brag about you forever. Love, Daphne
Well, hallelujah! Congratulations to you all. What a wonderful beginning to your wonderful adventure. Sleep is good.
Wow! Congrats on your momentous crossing! I’ve looked forward to each day’s blog post, and read every one with vicarious pleasure! Sending much love to you all, Janie :0)
Congratulations on a safe and happy arrival!