Arrival in the Middle of Nowhere - 3 1/2 time zones away

Harmonie
Don and Anne Myers
Thu 27 Mar 2008 23:42
09:48.188S  139:01.897W
 
We arrived safely in Tahuku Bay on the Marquesas island of Hiva Oa last night at 9:15 Galapagos time - which come to find out was 5:45 pm Marquesas time.  Yup, the Marquesas are not three hours or four hours behind Galapagos (Central) time, but three and a half hours.  A time zone all their own.  At some point during our trek to the middle of nowhere, we must have unknowingly crashed through the space-time continuum and landed in half of a time zone.
 
Although the last two hours of our trip were completely excruciating (the wind died and we were crawling along at five knots in a race with the fading daylight), the scenery was incredible and our arrival into Tahuku Bay was like a homecoming.  As we motored slowly past the ten or so anchored World ARC boats, everyone came out on deck and waved us in, calling out a big welcome.  Others got on the VHF radio and guided us to a perfect anchoring spot with their advice.  One of the teenage sons on board the American catamaran Candela serenaded us with his guitar, and we smoothly came to rest and lowered the anchor.  At that point, the anchor chain kinked, got stuck and stopped moving.  So much for our smooth landing!  Don scrambled around and crawled half-way into the chain locker (small space in the very bow of the boat accessible only through a very small opening) to un-kink the chain.  Meanwhile, we hung perilously close to one of the other anchored boats, but luckily they weren't on board, so we didn't get the evil eye.  This is kind of like the old question, 'If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it, does it really make a sound?'.  In this case, 'If a boat comes in to anchor and gets too close to another anchored boat, but no one is on the anchored boat to see it, is it really a problem?'  Eventually we got it all worked out.  Aside from the anchor chain incident, we can't think of a nicer way to end an incredibly long voyage.
 
And there's more.  We heard chatter on the VHF about a group dinner at one of the nearby restaurants, so although we were tired and Don in particular was more inclined to hang out on the boat and relax, we tidied up quickly, got all the important things put away, hopped in the dinghy and headed to shore in the dark, just as it started to rain.  The dinghy dock here is a big chunk of concrete with a few giant black tires hanging on it.  Without the moderately crashing surf it would have been a challenge to crawl up onto it, but with the surf, it was even more interesting.  We dragged ourselves up the big, black tires onto the concrete chunk while it started to rain in earnest (mind you, all done in our out-to-dinner clothes - which aren't that fancy, but still!).  Once we were on solid ground, we ran to the waiting taxi (a strange converted pick-up truck with a bench on either side of the truck bed and a roof overhead thankfully).  There are only four taxis on this island (and only ten rental cars), so we weren't complaining.  The World ARC people met us at the taxi with our official Polynesian lays (not the plastic variety, the real thing - simply gorgeous) and we were off to the restaurant.  With the exception of the trimaran Branec's crew, everyone was there from the other twelve boats that had arrived in the Marquesas.  We had a grand time and fulfilled Don's and my #1 priorities in high style (a drink and food prepared by someone else).  Don and I only had one episode of severe 'swaying' (the phenomena that happens on solid ground after being on a moving boat for an extended period of time) just as we entered the restaurant.  After that we were fine.
 
The waitresses at the restaurant were all beautiful Polynesian girls and women, complete with pink sarongs, flowers in their hair and bare feet.  After dinner, one of them performed a modern version of several traditional Polynesian dances.  The men drooled and the women marveled at the dancer's ability to jiggle her butt in the most unusual ways - all to the beat of the music.  At one point, Brian and Peter from the British boats Tallulah Ruby and Asolare decided they could do the butt jiggle thing just as well as the dancer, and both made several attempts.  Although their efforts were appreciated by the crowd, they did not even come close to the butt jiggle standard set by the dancer.
 
At an unspecified time (we were so confused by the time zone thing, it was tough to tell just what time it was), we left the restaurant in the pickup truck taxi, climbed down the big, black tires into the dinghy, returned to the boat and fell into bed.  Hence, my #2 priority was met.
 
In the morning we got our first good look around.  Since it was nearly dark when we arrived last night, we didn't really have a chance to view our surroundings.  Pictures will follow in future updates, but for now I think Don put it best when he said, 'It looks just like the pictures.'   And it does.
 
Anne