After 18 days and 2,700 miles we make it to the Marquesas. We arrive in Nuku Hiva at dawn. I took John along with me to translate, as he said he spoke some French, and we went in to do our clearance. By the time we anchored in the bay and made our way to shore to do the paperwork it was 10:30 and the gendarmerie had already closed. We had to wait until 2:30, so John and I go over to Maurice’s (a small local store) and grab a case of Hinano Beer (just under $60 for a case of beer, including deposit!). It is cold and good. A little later we go back in. It is here that I discover that John’s French was learned in school in England, and is a little closer to Greek when heard by the Frenchman who is checking us in. But we’ve done it. We are finally in the land that cruisers’ dreams are made of.
In the evening, we find our way up to a little place on a hill overlooking the bay, run by an American lady named Rose. We make it our official home away from home here in Nuku Hiva, and every night we have Happy Hour. Now here comes a real “small world” story. On the fourth evening, Jody and I are having a cocktail with Rose. She’s talking about a boat in which she and her late husband sailed around the Pacific. As she describes it, I realize I know the boat. Not only that, but I had met her and her late husband while I surveyed it for a couple of friends of mine who were buying it from them in San Diego four years earlier. Yeah, it is a small world.
As we sat talking with Rose, we watched a large, what looked like a cruise ship, enter the bay below. It was the VIRGINIAN, a 203-foot Feadship belonging to John Kluge.
A couple of launches were put in the water, and a bunch of folks disembarked and headed for shore. A few minutes later, a van pulled up outside the inn, and they started to file in. I kind of recognized an elderly gentleman but couldn’t remember from where or when. I get that a lot (Yes, I lived through the sixties!). In any case, they soon asked us to join them, and I found that the elderly gentleman was Alex Photenhour, previously the captain of HIGHLANDER, Malcolm Forbes boat. In a previous life, I was the publisher of Biker Magazine and had met him when I was riding with Malcolm, who was an avid motorcycle rider, about eight years earlier.
It seems that his son, Ingo, was the captain of the VIRGINIAN, anchored below. We started talking and I wheedled an invite to check out what a powerboat should be. She was built a few years ago and is just plain unbelievable. You could put the LOST SOUL in her engine room without removing the masts! On her stern deck are more toys than in Toys “R” Us. She has four galleys, five washers and dryers, more glassware than a department store, and $250,000 worth of frozen meats in her freezer. She also sports a two-ton marble bathtub, and ceramic tile floors in the heads that cost over $200,000 each.
A few days later John, Jody, and I sailed to a small place about four miles west, called Daniel’s Bay. Andy had gotten lucky the night before and never made it back to the boat. We figured we’d catch up with him later in the afternoon. Daniel’s Bay was an unbelievable little hidden harbor around a bend so well protected you couldn’t see it until you were about to enter it. It was like something out of a movie. It had two little bays, one with a white sandy beach and palm trees, the other the same, but with a small river coming out through the rocks. After being introduced to a new fruit called pamplemousse, which I fell in love with, we commenced to motor our dinghy up the river, until we hit a rock and busted the damned prop. Then we hiked six miles through a rain forest to see a waterfall. All the way, as we trudged through waist-deep water, slimy mud and eel-infested pits, I kept saying to myself, it can’t be worth it.
I was wrong. As it turns out this is the second highest waterfall in the world. The only higher one is in Venezuela. When we reached the falls, located about dead center on the island of Nuku Hiva, it was overpowering. The water drops about 1,000 feet into a pool. When we swam out into the water falling into this hollow cone, it pushed the air through with so much force it threw spray up like it was raining in a wind tunnel. The walls around the canyon shot straight up until they were lost in the clouds overhead. Birds lazed in circles in the updraft, and we were surrounded by banana trees, large mangroves, and giant ferns. All around the waterfall were small piles of stones left by natives after some ancient religious rite. I don’t think there is a place on earth I have ever felt so close to God. The pathway to the falls, which was difficult to find, passed six or seven ancient rock altars, and you could see traces of an old civilization everywhere.
When we got back to the boat we found that the prop on the dinghy was now pretty useless. We tried to repair it but the rubber bushing was gone. The dinghy wouldn’t do over four knots.
On sailing back to pick up Andy we found that our friend Neil McNeil had flown in by way of Papeete and found a small plane that made a once a week trip to Nuku Hiva. He would sail with us from here to Papeete.
We tried to find a new prop for the dinghy, or a way to fix the bushing, but had no luck. We were bummed. A few days later we departed to explore the rest of the Marquesas.
