May 27

Written by:
5/27/2010 7:50 AM 

Three weeks with nothing but your own internal dialogue to keep you company can make for a long and sometimes difficult passage. It is only now, anchored for five days surrounded by the lush green vegetation growing on the magnificent black cliffs of the volcanic islands of the South Pacific that I can begin to process the emotions felt on my passage.

My first two weeks and 2000 miles went so smoothly I begin to wonder if it wasn’t just a matter of time before the mast would collapse or a Pacific storm would blow up to truly challenge my vessel and I. The sea induces many forms of fatigue. Living on a pitching and rolling vessel requires constant muscle response and the body never fully relaxes. Even with plain sailing the irregular sleep patterns and constant vigilance wears on the mind and advanced cognitive functions becomes very difficult. All these factors and more combined in my third week and I was unquestionably done with this voyage. My desire for even one more day at sea dissipated with the wind and as the boat slowed and the sails flogged all I could image was a new life ashore.

Arriving at Fatu Hiva I found a very small anchorage with more than 35 boats crammed together in the deep water with poor holding. The fleet was made up of vessels with names like Vagabond, Liquid Courage, Troutbridge, African Innovation, Calypso, Savannah and of course my own beloved Jargo. A few of the names were familiar, but 3000 miles of open ocean behind us all made for the growth of quick friendships and five days of revelry. In the cockpits of our various boats laughter rang out over sundowners and somehow polished the memories of our passages like rough stones leaving only gleaming jewels for us to look back upon.

The days have been filled with small boat projects, hikes to hidden waterfalls terminating in freshwater swimming holes, treks to the mountain tops, pig and goat roasts cooked in the traditional Polynesian fashion, snorkeling among the eels, turtles, and fish in the bay, playing with the boisterous island kids, and sleeping soundly and often to recharge my own internal batteries. Today, sipping scalding hot coffee in the cockpit I can’t imagine any other kind of life.

The anchorage is down to a dozen boats and most of my friends, new and old, have sailed for the population center of Hiva Oa for provisions and internet. I am not yet quite ready to rejoin civilization and will spend another day or two here before weighing anchor and heading to the seldom visited island of Tahuata 45 miles to the NNE.