Before we left Taiohae Bay, a cruising friend of ours stopped by to say hello. After making the passage from the US with his girlfriend, he’s now single-handing. Her plane took off from Nuku Hiva while we had lunch with him and talked over plans for the next few months. He’s on his way to New Zealand as well but is first heading to Eiao, an uninhabited island 30 miles north to join a boat of almost penniless young Europeans who are going to attempt to catch some wild goats and pigs without hunting weapons. It sounds as though he is definitely ready for some adventure! Nonetheless, he was well aware of the disadvantages of going it alone, and we thought we might be able to help.

Lauren and I had talked for a couple minutes with a really nice Canadian guy on the dock who had crewed on a beautiful 83′ yacht from San Francisco to Nuku Hiva after seeing the boat in Canada and asking the owner if he needed crew. The owner’s friends and family were due to join him, so Mark’s (the Canadian) gig was over, but he was doing it for experience and board and didn’t seem too eager for the adventure to end. We recommended to our cruising friend that he stop by the yacht and ask if Mark would be interested in joining him for a while. On our way out of the bay, we motored past them as they were talking and later heard on the radio that Mark had agreed to join up with our friend for a while. That was good news for all and yet another interesting tale of "How I came to sail the South Pacific" in the making.

Paul (in the kayak) and Mark talking it over

Daniel’s Bay, whose real name is Hakatea and it’s sister bay Hakaui are famous for two things. The first is Daniel, who is now dead, but earned quite a reputation for his friendliness and generosity with cruisers. He apparently had a legendary guestbook that was signed by many well-known sailors, and he was even kind enough to install a buoy in the bay with a fresh water hose run from the shore that allowed cruisers to fill their water tanks with the "best water in the world" without ever lugging a jug. The other bay, Hakaui, is also home to some very friendly Marquesans as well and is famous for a 900 foot waterfall that everybody hikes to see.

Daniel’s Bay

We started our hike about 10 in the morning after doing some laundry and a couple boat tasks. Wes pulled out a couple spare oars that we have and all four of us paddled over for some exercise. The beginning of the walk is through a beautiful area that the residents have cleared and planted. There are open-air houses and work buildings scattered by the valley road between the river and mountain. Cultivated trees and plants of numerous types are everywhere — banana, coconut, lime, pamplemousse, noni, papaya, mango, edible roots, and flowering bushes. We’d been ashore less than two minutes when Monette asked us if we’d like bananas. We answered with an enthusiastic yes, and she told us stop by after visiting the waterfall.

View from the beach back into the waterfall valley

View during the walk to the wooded area

The walk to the waterfall is an unforgettable one. Our photographed cruising guide says it’s 1800 meters, but it took us almost two hours each way. The road begins as a truck path through the inhabited portion of the valley, then crosses a stream and turns into a trail. For the remainder of the walk, one is almost never out of sight of ancient ruins. Almost the entire walk is on or near an ancient stone road. After walking on and on along the ancient road with occasional stone platforms off to the side where houses or other buildings had stood, the size and sophistication of the old population begins to sink in. There were thousands in just this valley, where now less than 50 live. They built stone structures that would be unthinkable today without heavy machinery, and nearly all of them died less than 200 years ago, primarily as the victims of European germs.

After crossing the first stream, the path enters the forest beside the stream where it wanders for quite a while until it finally finds its way back to a clearing at the edge of the stream. The clearing was apparently the site of a large village, because even now very little brush grows over the stones. There are clearly walls, and paved areas as well as several square stone pits which were apparently used for storing food. At the edge of the stream, the steep and beautiful mountains again become visible. They rise almost vertically to a height of nearly 1000 feet and are covered sparsely with bright green foliage. They are so monolithic have such large folds and features that only when the white birds flying high overhead come near the peaks and turn into tiny white specks do you realize how large they really are.

Ancient ruins near the river with a food pit in the left foreground

After crossing the stream a second time the path leads into a verdant canyon walled by the high mountains. At the end of the canyon there is a pool fed by the waterfall and we all had a swim in the cool water. Most of the waterfall itself is hidden behind a fold in the cliff, but after climbing over some large rocks and swimming across another pool, you can tread water directly underneath the crashing spray as it falls the last 20 feet or so into the pool. The end of the valley is a place you want to linger, and picturesque as the ocean views are here, you can appreciate why so many people lived in the deep reaches of the valley, with the stream rushing over the boulders and the mountain cliffs towering overhead.

The waterfall and outer pool The inner pool

Lauren after her waterfall shower

Monette was waiting for us when we got back. She was doing yard work with her husband and son, but quickly shed her flip-flops and led us toward the house. A lot of yachties make the walk to the waterfall and she’s ready for them. She picked limes for us, handed us a stalk of bananas from among the several that were hanging from bark ropes behind the house, and gave us pamplemousse from the stack on her kitchen counter. Her house doesn’t have windows, so we conversed for a while standing outside while she was in the kitchen. It was clear she wanted to trade, so we started trying to figure out what she wanted — no to canned corn beef, small ear-rings, and used t-shirts, and yes to new t-shirts, large ear-rings, jelly, and cigarettes (but we don’t have any of these things except for jelly). After the trade discussion, she handed us half a dozen starfruit, and we headed back to the boat. Today we take the dinghy back to bring our side of the trade. We’ll probably try to trade for some more pamplemousse with the people in Daniel’s Bay as well, as we heard they’re going for $3 each in Tahiti.