Atuona, Hiva Oa--Hokule'a anchored in Atuona at 4:30 HST after a sail up from Hanavave, Fatu Hiva. We left Hanavave at 7 am this morning. The winds were 10-12 knot easterlies until we were abreast of Terihi, a small jagged island off of Mohotani, when a squall hit. We closed sails until the squall passed, then continued on with better winds.
The canoe left Vaitahu, Tahuata, two days ago (Augusts 6) at 5 pm. Hokule'a was towed by Kamahele down the leeward coast of Tahuata, close to shore, so the crew could say goodbye to the people of Hapatoni, a village they had visited earlier in the day. The sun was setting in a cloudless, deep blue sky. The spires of Ua Pou were visible one house north of the sun, like little fingers protruding from the horizon. A flock of about 30 noio (noddy terns) appeared, flapping out of the sun, returning home; 'iwa (frigate birds) circled above the steep mountainside covered with hau, coconut, mango, banyan and a few albizzia trees, their vibrant greens tinged with orange sunlight. A few goats climbed a cliff. Our hunter Aldon Kim swore one day he would be back for them.
Earlier in the day the crew had gone by boat to Hapatoni, which is situated on a narrow strip of land beneath the cliffs. The village has no cars and there is no road in. The crew was greeted by the children of the school with dances and a meal of fish and fruit. The newly-formed Hokule'a dance troupe (M. Doi, C. Fuller, N. Wilson, and A. Polo), with musicians K. Akaka and D. Antone, responded with "Hi'ilawe" and "Aloha Kaua'i." In the village, Mel Paoa met more of the Paoa family that has spread throughout Polynesia.
As Hokule'a approached Hapantoni at sunset, M. Attwood, K. Hoe, and K. Akaka let loose some blasts of their pu (conch) and the children and parents came out to wave goodbye. Tava Taupu stood on the navigator's platform and started shouting: "Aloha nui! I love you! Kaoha nui ia outou! Eo Nukuhiva! Eo Vaitahu! Eo Hapatoni! Eo Hawai'i!" Tava has been rejuvenated by his visit to his homeland. Earlier in Vaitahu he met a childhood friend. When he left in the sixties there were no cars and airplanes, only horses and boats. "Aloha nui! I love you! Kaoha nui ia outou!" he shouted again, one arm raised and waving goodbye. His voice echoed and faded in the darkening mountainside. We were towed out of sight of the villagers. When we turned the southern end of Tahuata, the wind and seas came at us again. Hokule'a towed through the night to Fatu Hiva, tacking there a too time-consuming exercise for its tight schedule. We approached the island before dawn under a waning crescent moon, anchors down by 8 am. The small bay is spectacular, with huge monolithic stones towering overhead on three sides. Fatu Hiva,the southernmost island of the Marquesas, has even fewer people than Tahuata--about 300.
No one told the villagers we were coming, but they were happy to host Hokule'a and Kamahele. The children and their parents began lining the shore. The women brought flowers and leaves and began making waist bands, head dresses, and lei for a dance performance. The mayor greeted us at his house, and invited us to a dinner at 7 pm.
The crew hiked up to a 100-foot waterfall at the back of the valley with some of the children; when we returned they all swam out to the canoe and stayed on board, eating peanut butter and crackers.
At 6:30 the 100 or so villagers began showing up with food at some tables set up near the shore. After dinner, six musicians and about 24 dancers, men and women, boys and girls broke out in dance, the beating drums booming in the still night air; the backdrop was coconut trees, pitch black cliffs, and the Southern Cross, the Pointers, Maui's Fishhook, and the Milky Way arching above all. It was amazing what the people had put together without notice...
Hokule'a and Kamahele plan to wait in Atuona for supplies to arrive on August 10, before continuing onto Mangareva, about a 1000 miles to the south on August 11 or 12.