93. Landfall

After 25 days at sea, we finally arrived in Nuku Hiva. The anchorage was pretty congested with about 50 boats already at anchor throughout the bay. The surrounding landscape was nothing like I had imagined. Since Nuku Hiva is the largest island in the Marquesas, I imagined the town of the main anchorage to be quite developed but was surprised to only see some small buildings scattered along the base of the towering peaks. The landscape was lush and green, a stark contrast to the barren desert of the Baja Peninsula.

After some celebratory beers and brownies, Eitan dropped the tender in the water and fired up the outboard for the first time in over a month. We loaded ourselves into the dinghy and made our way over to the dock area. We didn’t know it then but would come to find out our days of dinghy docks, or marinas in general, were over for now. The area where we could tie up the dinghy was more of a concrete wall with a single ladder. Eitan navigated through the maze of ropes and buoys floating in the water which were used to stern tie the local boats.

In the final days of the crossing, we had made a bet about what time we would be arriving at the anchorage. My bet was 3pm and I won the privilege of being the first to step foot on land. Once we secured the dinghy to a piece of metal embedded in the concrete wall, I waited for the surge to push the dinghy high enough for me to climb up the 3 feet to the top of the wall. My first steps felt very strange, like walking sober for the first time in weeks. My body kept expecting the world to keep moving around me. The stable ground felt a bit disorienting but we quickly acclimated to the solid ground beneath our feet. I helped the others up from the dinghy and we got to moving about on land.

The first order of business was drop off trash. During the 26 day crossing, we had accumulated two 5-gallon jugs worth of trash and one small trash bag. After locating the dumpster, we continued on walking to a park that overlooks the bay. We sat and watched the sunset in partial disbelief that we had finally arrived in the Marquesas. Everything seemed so different from Mexico. The families playing in the park looked Polynesian and spoke in a language that we couldn’t understand. The people we passed by said either “bonjour” or “kaoha” as these are the common French and Marquesan greetings. We tried to respond, in kind, but typically blurted out a “hola” or “buenas tardes” out of habit.

We made our way over to the local snack, a term used to describe a small restaurant, which was closed but our friends on SV Kismet had given us the WiFi password for their internet access. We sat there for about an hour as we messaged friends and family and checked e-mails and social media. It was good to feel connected after being isolated for so long. I checked the news feed to see what had been happening in the world but felt it a bit overwhelming. I learned that Russia had officially invaded Ukraine and suddenly my discomfort and panic at sea seemed so trivial and unimportant compared to the real fears other people were facing on the other side of the world.

After the mosquitos stared to emerge, we headed back to the boat and settled in for the night. We could finally sleep in a bed that wasn’t moving and no longer needed to wake up for night shifts. Everyone passed out and I slept all the way through until the morning, something I rarely do these days. We all woke up well rested and refreshed, ready to start the to-do list that Eitan laid out for us. After carrying us safely across the Pacific for 3,000 miles, SV Sierra Wind needed a little TLC. Before we could relax and enjoy the island, the boat needed and deserved a deep cleaning inside and out.