After 17 days and 3,259 miles, the first sight of Hiva Oa in the Marquesas should have been the end of a dream\u2014but after the initial euphoria, I started wondering if this iconic port of call is worth the effort\u2018Laaaaaaaaaand ho!\u2019
\nThe first shouts drifted through the companionway at 0545 on 25 April. Hiva Oa was visible in the pre-dawn light just off our starboard bow. French Polynesia: the South Sea Islands.
\nI lingered in my bunk a minute longer, lost in a sleepy stupor from the low drone of the engine. The last hundred miles of the crossing had been frustratingly windless, but there is no better sleep aid than constant rpms.
\nWhen I stepped into the cockpit, the island was close by to starboard. High green hills surrounded us on three sides as Falken approached the bay, a ragged ridgeline running down the centre of the island, and black volcanic slopes disappeared into the sea where the long south-easterly swell exploded onto the rocky cliffs in high plumes of spray. The crew was quiet, gazing at the land like they hadn\u2019t seen any in weeks.
\nOn the breeze came the rich smell of earth, my favourite part of any landfall and the most surprising \u2013 and emotional \u2013 to first-time passagemakers. We cut the engine a half-mile off and left the Farr 65 Falken to her own devices while the crew stripped down and jumped over the side, whooping into the cool water. Then we motored into the anchorage, threading between a dozen other boats.
\nInside the breakwater the swell still found us, rolling the deck under our feet as we rigged the shade awning and popped the champagne. After nearly 17 days and 3,259 miles, the Marquesas were ours, and that satisfying sense of accomplishment started sinking in. And yet here\u2019s the thing \u2013 if I ever cross the Pacific again, I might consider skipping them.
\nI know, I know, this is heresy. The Marquesas are sacred ground for bluewater sailors, one of the all-time iconic ports of call. They\u2019re the mythical first landfall after the long haul from the Americas, the stuff of legendary sea stories and Polynesian fantasies. The dream.
\nThe reality was weeks rolling at anchor and biblical rain. Weary after nearly three weeks at sea and longing for rest and respite, I eventually found what I was looking for further south-west, in the Tuamotus and finally Tahiti \u2013 still lagoons, coconut palms, unfathomably blue water, and deep rest.
\n17 days and 3,259 miles across the Pacific was a long haul to the Marquesas. Photo: Aidan Gray
\nEnchanted Isles
\nMy South Pacific passage began by flying into the Galapagos to skipper Falken, which felt like cheating. In 36 hours I\u2019d gone from playing with my five-year-old son on his trampoline in Sweden, to south of the equator, halfway around the planet, experiencing the surreal way time bends on long-haul international flights.
\nThe Galapagos reminded me in a curious way of Svalbard \u2013 a group of remote, exotic islands, a heavily protected environment and an abundance of rare wildlife that you only see in these specific places. That the two islands are separated by 80\u00b0 of latitude is moot. Where walrus and polar bears preside over the icy landscape up north, sea lions, blue-footed boobies and giant tortoises dot the terrain in the south.
\nThe sea lions are particularly entertaining \u2013 in San Cristobal they own the waterfront, sleeping on park benches, occupying the transoms of boats who don\u2019t put up enough fender defences, and barking at anyone who comes too close.
\nBefore our ocean departure, first mate Emily Caruso ran the crew through MOB drills: point one: stay on the boat. The water was warm and calm, so we did live recovery practice. It was a hell of a job hauling someone up Falken\u2019s high topsides, even in flat calm at anchor compared to the rolling Pacific swells coming our way. The drill did its job of making everyone think like a sailor: pay attention and, above all, don\u2019t fall in.
\ninstructions from skipper Andy Schell for the crew working forward. Photo: Aidan Gray
\nPollywogs & Shellbacks
\nWe crossed the equator southbound just as the sun was kissing the horizon to the west. To mark the moment the crew shut down the engine and fired a cannon salute (yes, Falken carries a small cannon), and with that King Neptune appeared. His accomplice \u2018Davy Jones\u2019 read our supposed crimes against the deep \u2013 steering too wide, sleeping too long, being general \u2018ne\u2019er-do-wells\u2019 \u2013 and sentenced us accordingly.
\nMy punishment was a \u2018haircut\u2019 from the Royal Barber, whose kit consisted of a bucket of saltwater and a pair of safety scissors. We drank Doctor Doom\u2019s foul elixir, sang shanties, and banged spoons on a pot in the place of a drum. We graduated from Pollywogs to Shellbacks, initiated into Neptune\u2019s realm.
\nBut the wind didn\u2019t return. The engine went back on, the sails stayed limp, and our ceremony faded into the monotonous cacophony of the iron genny. For days we pushed on, the boat rolling in a low swell, the rig shuddering every time the boom and the sea got out of sync. Old sea captains cursed calms more than storms for the damage they did to ship\u2019s gear and crew morale. We were able to tick off 350 miles under power in two days \u2013 a far cry from the weeks the square-riggers could be becalmed here \u2013 but frustrating all the same. Patience in the doldrums is easy to preach but hard to live.
\nArticle continues below\u2026<\/p>\n
The tropical South Pacific is also hot. And very humid. Nothing could have prepared us for the heat of equatorial sailing. When we slept, our bodies left an imprint against the sheets like a crime scene outline, but in sweat.
\nOutside it was marginally cooler in the breeze, but then we had to avoid the sun. We had an umbrella rigged up in the cockpit to provide a little extra shade (this despite the superstitious implications \u2013 umbrellas on board, like bananas, are considered very bad luck at sea). The only shade before noon was a small sliver next to the mast on the port side, which had become a popular spot for the on-watch while taking turns driving.
\n1,000 MILES Offshore
\nWhen the south-east trades finally filled in, Falken flat-out flew, covering 225-plus miles for eight consecutive days. The sailing was effortless; a poled out yankee and reefed mainsail made for fingertip steering, with each watch gunning for the surfing record. We regularly hit double-digit speeds, and topped out at over 16 knots.
\nSea lions rule the roost in San Cristobal, Galapagos.Photo: Aidan Gray
\nThough thankful for the wind, we hadn\u2019t had many truly great starry nights on the passage. But one particular evening late into the passage, they were out in full splendour. The Milky Way dazzled to port, the Southern Cross lost among the myriad stars surrounding it. The Big Dipper hovered on the horizon to starboard, its pointer stars aimed at Polaris, now well below the northern horizon from our perspective in the Southern Hemisphere.
\nArcturus and Spica, two of the brightest, were visible behind the helmsman\u2019s head. It\u2019s impossible to properly describe how stunning a fully starlit sky is at sea, where the only light pollution for a thousand miles is the masthead tricolour weaving around aloft as the boat pitches and rolls.
\nWhile we still had a long way to sail, by now the cracks had started to show in the crew\u2019s resolve to stay in the moment. I was partly to blame \u2013 I\u2019d raised the topic one night of what food everyone was most looking forward to eating when we arrived ashore (the correct answer is always a cheeseburger and a cold beer). But we hadn\u2019t fully broken the spell.
\nThe stars that night were a reminder to stay present. Falken had sailed 2,307 miles, with 1,000 more to go.
\nThe Marquesas off the port bow after 17 days at sea. Photo: Aidan Gray
\nMarquesas to Starboard?
\nBut our mid-ocean dreaming of burgers and beer gets to the core of why I might consider skipping the Marquesas next time. What is it that you want most after a long passage? Not having an opportunity for that first great meal ashore (there is one mediocre restaurant on the waterfront in Nuku Hiva) nagged at me.
\nVoyaging in remote places is a series of continuous ups and downs, emotionally and physically, and they tend to balance each other out over the long term. The Marquesas are spectacularly, exotically beautiful, but they are rarely comfortable. Anchorages are tight, deep, or exposed. Unlike the Caribbean, there aren\u2019t shops and cafes on the waterfront \u2013 only goats, horses and an open-air market (though the French grocery store was well-stocked and the hardware store helpful).
\nRefuelling required a jerry can shuffle in the dinghy. I readily acknowledge that for many these are simply features of the adventure, not a negative. But I\u2019d never really heard anyone mention it before. I\u2019m also not a typical cruiser, Falken is not your typical cruising boat. It\u2019s a business. Between 59\u00b0 North passages with paying crew, we usually have just a few days of staying put to rest and reset.
\nIn the Marquesas we had down time, but weren\u2019t truly able to explore. Handling Falken\u2019s big mainsail without a full crew is a project in itself, so sailing off to find a better anchorage wasn\u2019t on the cards.
\nIt was a rolling South Pacific passage. Photo: Aidan Gray
\nWe did some exploring \u2013 hikes into lush valleys, enjoyed beers with other sailors, and completed minor boat work. But more often it felt like we were just waiting to depart while enduring the heat, humidity and \u2018no-nos\u2019, the horrendous sand flies. I wasn\u2019t actually sure we\u2019d ever get out of Nuku Hiva.
\nAfter more than two weeks at anchor in a rolling Taiohae Bay, when the crew arrived for the next leg, days of torrential rain delayed our departure further when the harbour became flooded with debris washed off the mountains. So when the skies finally cleared, we bolted.
\nFive hundred blissful, beam reaching miles later and the contrast between the chaotic anchorage at Taiohae in Nuku Hiva and the tranquillity of Kauehi village in the Tuamotus couldn\u2019t have been any more stark. Where in Nuku Hiva Falken had rolled heavily in an unbroken swell that backwashed against the seawall, we sat perfectly still inside the protected lagoon at Kauehi atoll.
\nIn Kauehi the sea-level elevation allowed the breeze to blow freely, and kept the bugs away. Crystal-clear water was highlighted in spectacular shades of turquoise and deep blue, occasionally disturbed by yellow-tinted lemon sharks that swam by the boat. We spent two blissful nights here, relaxing and exploring. With no cell service at the village, refreshingly nobody was even on their phones.
\nNot being able to enjoy the same little luxuries that had accompanied all my Atlantic landfalls after a long stint as sea perhaps clouded my judgement of Hiva Oa and Nuku Hiva. And one of those is being able to sleep on a still boat. There are no docks anywhere in the Marquesas and, with no fringing reef and incessant swell, there are also no calm anchorages.
\nSouth Pacific cruising is not always bright skies and blue seas. Photo: Aidan Gray
\nThe strain of spending three weeks at sea isn\u2019t relieved in the same way it\u2019s relieved in say, Horta. It wasn\u2019t until Tahiti, seven weeks after I\u2019d joined Falken in the Galapagos, that we finally got that truly cathartic moment of luxurious release.
\nTahiti was familiar, in both the best and worst senses of the word. High-end marinas \u2013 or a protected anchorage inside the reef at much less cost; a huge air-conditioned Carrefour grocery store; hipster smoothies at the beach bar; rum distilleries and rainforest hikes. It was everything a crew fantasises about towards the tail end of any long passage.
\nWith its protected lagoons, fruit falling from the sky, friendly people, and French cuisine galore, Tahiti is like true paradise \u2013 why would you ever choose to leave? But for me, the passage ended in Tahiti, both literally and figuratively. I flew home after a week exploring the island and recouping my energy from the long ocean passage.
\nReturning dreams
\nExpectations dictate what you get out of a voyage. With hindsight, I realise my first Pacific crossing was about the South Seas myth at the expense of enjoying some of the reality. For my second Pacific crossing \u2013 and there will have to be a second \u2013 I know I can choose our own path. But, honestly, I don\u2019t think I could resist going back.
\n59\u00b0 North\u2019s Falken is a 65ft Bruce Farr design built in 1999, originally for a round the world race. Photo: 59\u00b0 North Sailing
\nBecause for all my griping, you simply can\u2019t miss the Marquesas. The sense of achievement of arrival after 3,000 miles at sea is unmatched. The cultural depth \u2013 from the tattoo traditions to the exotic feasts \u2013 is unlike anywhere else. You\u2019re not being sold anything in the Marquesas, which may have frustrated my yearnings for a post-crossing reward, but in the moment is quite the relief.
\nAnd that first sight of land after weeks at sea\u2026 there\u2019s nothing like it. One morning you\u2019re looking at an empty horizon, the next at unfathomably steep mountains carved from the sea. So if you\u2019re crossing the Pacific for the first time, definitely don\u2019t avoid the Marquesas.
\nInstead, calibrate your expectations. It\u2019s so easy in the age of Starlink to expect that anywhere you go, things will always be more or less the same. Leave all that behind, and experience the Marquesas for what they are \u2013 an isolated outpost in the middle of the vast Pacific with some of the most dramatic scenery and friendliest people on Earth. Ignore my heretic hot take. Go.<\/p>\n
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The post 3,000 Miles to Paradise: Our Unexpected Reality in the Marquesas appeared first on Yachting World.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
After 17 days and 3,259 miles, the first sight of Hiva Oa in the Marquesas should have been the end of a dream\u2014but after the initial euphoria, I started wondering if this iconic port of call is worth the effort\u2018Laaaaaaaaaand … <\/p>\n