Conclusion Anaho Bay - The Pros and Cons

(By email)

Anaho Bay from the top of the hill to Hatiheu

Anaho Bay in Nuku Hiva has been called anything from “best kept secret” to “amazing bay” to “greatest anchorage in the Marquesas”, and even all of (French) Polynesia, by sailors, backpackers, brochures, travel books and cruising guides. It is interesting that Pacific travelers seem to prefer the bays and beaches that most represent the Caribbean and I wonder whether the pronouncers of these statements have ever visited the Gambier Islands or Fiji. Although Anaho certainly has its charms, we surely hope this is not the nicest place in the South Pacific, or we will be a tad disappointed.

Irie in Anaho, along the north coast of Nuku Hiva

Depending on the day, we like Anaho, or we want to get out of here. Negatives include the awful nonos (incessant tiny biting flies) on land, and after every shore excursion, we have red itchy welts all over our bodies and have the need to scratch them for days. Insect repellant (with DEET) does not help, but does work against the mosquitoes – whose bites we currently prefer. When we plan to go ashore, we never quite know what to put on our skin: suntan lotion, bug spray, monoi (local oil with a nice fragrance that is said to help against the nonos, but has no impact on mosquitoes) or anti-itch cream to take care of the current bites. Or, all four.  Or, nothing at all, since we’re in trouble whatever we do. We also have antihistamine tablets on board which come in handy these days, especially after I ran into a wasp nest and ended up with five stings on my back and head.

The idyllic setting of the farm close by is a mecca for nonos. The horses are used to transport the fruit and vegetables to civilization. They suffer from the insects as much as we do.

The weather has been grey, the wind gusty – sending Irie all over the place - and the water extremely cloudy. With all the fringed coral in the bay (a rarity in the Marquesas) this is a shame, since the visibility is awful and snorkeling unexciting or fair at best. It must be the time of the year, since these reefs are what a lot of people rave about. The other thing cruisers or books don’t mention is the amount of coral heads scattered around the part of the bay where one is supposed to anchor. When you get the anchor to set in a patch of sand, chances are that your chain will rub and grate against (live) coral more often than not. Sleep becomes difficult with thundering noise like that.

Life coral in the bay

Because of the bad visibility, you don’t notice the coral patches until you are settled, or when the wind shifts and the boat lies differently. Anchoring further out – where it is less protected – is a solution, or putting a float in place along the chain. Part of the bay is now also called a “marine park” by the locals – because of the density of the coral reefs - and they don’t want you to anchor north of the dinghy channel anymore. Since this is actually the place all cruising guides tell you to anchor – that’s right, on top of the fragile coral! – most boats try at least once to drop the hook there, before they realize there’s coral underneath or before they get asked to move. By then, the damage is done. On top of that, they might be wrapped around one of the heads and have a hard time picking up anchor.

Spring low tide – the dinghy lies high and dry!

Things to like in Anaho are the easy and protected dinghy landing (with an anchor in the shallows or dragging it up the beach; because it shoals gradually, the tides seem huge), the availability of trails with a strenuous, but good hike to the village of Hatiheu and a pleasant 30-minute stroll to an organic farm – both offering enough shopping possibilities to stay for a while – and the friendly people. The drinking water on shore is of excellent quality and easy to obtain. When the sun is present, the bay and the beaches look very pretty and in the mornings, the seawater seems a bit clearer allowing a snorkel try-out. The wind usually comes pretty steady out of the same direction (east or north) and the anchorage is comfortable. In the Marquesas, this seems to be the main concern, and indicator to be called a good place to anchor and be.

Looking for shells at low tide

The last week, Mark and I have been hiking a bit for food and exercise reasons. We tried to snorkel a few times, looked for shells during extreme low tide, cooked more good meals, from dinners to desserts, and tried some new recipes – an advantage of being in the same anchorage for a while and therefore having time for more frivolous stuff than always taking care of our floating home. As for Mark’s elbow, the pain is gone (for the moment), but his arm feels funny and is not healed yet, so he still has to be very careful. Since it is one of those days again – and we still hope to go to the festival in Ua Huka - we are leaving soon. J

At the farm, we pick the vegetables we desire – it doesn’t get fresher than this!

Walking up and over the steep hill for exercise, and to pick mangoes for our first mango chutney

Irie in a shell – the only boat in the anchorage

The village of Hatiheu

Tikis abound in every village of the Marquesas, even in tiny Hatiheu

An abundance of fish lives amongst the coral

Striped surgeonfish

Intermediate butterfly fish of some sort (top) and an ornate butterfly fish (bottom)

Congregation of fish around a piece of coral

Change of Scenery Needed

Even though the supermarkets have a decent amount of (expensive) stuff - one of them is even air conditioned – and there are a few nice walks in the area, it is time for a change of scenery. The traffic and buzzing cars are overwhelming and during the (long) weekends, it gets very loud. Local guys like to park their cars along the edge of the bay and turn their massive speakers on, faced towards the boats, blaring incessantly loud music into our cockpits. One car doing this is annoying, but when there are a few playing different disco tunes at the same time, it gets substantially worse.

Mark, Liesbet and Leili

Mark and I hiked to Baie Colette with the family on Iona and got a ride back to town with a friendly Marquesan fisherman. Along a rocky beach, protected from the sharks by a reef, local families enjoyed an afternoon of swimming and hanging out, some of them bathed their pretty horses in the seawater. We paid another visit to the main church, adorned with beautifully carved wooden structures and panels. One evening, together with some friends, we splurged on cocktails during happy hour at the fancy hotel, located on the opposite side of the bay.

Baie Colette

Stocked up on some fresh produce and fresh baguettes, Mark and I are off to Daniel’s Bay for a few days, to be away from the crowds and enjoy a peaceful anchorage.

 

The sharks are still circling and fighting for food scraps at the main dock

Expensive cocktails ($7), even during happy hour

The flags rise, to commemorate the end of WWI on November 11^th

Tiny kittens along the road to Baie Colette

Taiohae Bay seen from the west

View from the bed of a rickety jeep, on the ride back to town

Local guys swimming with their horses

Arthur with one of his prized animals

Wooden preacher’s pulpit

Barbuda: A Peaceful Place in the Caribbean

When Mark and I left Guadeloupe northbound, we had two options: go “through the middle” with a visit to Montserrat and a short stop in St. Kitts and Nevis, or sail to Antigua and Barbuda for a few weeks. The volcano on Montserrat was acting up, with ash being spit out on boats in the vicinity, followed by days of cleaning up for the owners. That, and the fact that visiting Antigua and Barbuda on the way north is easier than on the way south, made us decide to go this route.

We had heard a lot of nice things about Barbuda and this island was our main goal, but first, we spent two nights in Antigua, where it is easier to check in and out. We anchored in Falmouth Harbour with the big objective to visit Nelson’s Dockyard National Park. This Heritage site of restored colonial buildings houses shops and businesses and creates a good feel for the old days. There is a short walk to fort ruins from where you have a nice view of English Harbor and its many anchored boats. This area is also very popular with the mega yachts and mega they are. During the day your neck gets stiff from looking up the immense, tall masts and at night the sky is dotted with red lights so planes don’t crash into them.

The day we sailed to the sister island Barbuda, was pretty much perfect for this. We followed the west coast of Antigua, noticing quite a few attractive bays near shore and once we hit open water, the wind was a steady 15 knots on the beam (side). Our little Irie was pushed forward at about 7 knots and life was Irie! After cruising along for a couple of hours, our clothes pins snapped, meaning we caught a fish, or some other big thing. When Mark reeled the heavy hand line in, we saw a huge barracuda appear. In his struggle to get free, he had caught our other hand line, creating a giant mess. We managed to get the extra line off him, but needed to release him by cutting the hook. Nobody wanted to get close to those giant teeth and take the hook out. Then, when I pulled the other, damaged line in, something tugged on it… Totally unexpected, we had captured a tuna! Within a minute, we let go of one fish and caught another. Thank you, Mother Nature!

The tuna came in handy the following days, since we didn’t provision in the expensive French islands before visiting “remote” Barbuda. It fed us for three meals, including a sushi dinner. Barbuda is one of the few places in the Caribbean that is very low and therefore hard to see from a distance. While other, more mountainous islands are visible from 20, 30 or even 40 miles away, we didn’t spot Barbuda until we were within 5 miles of its shores. Once safely anchored, all we could see was sand, brush and water.

We spent our first night near Cocoa Point on Barbuda’s southwest coast. The long, quiet beach there has very soft sand in which you sink up to your ankles. When the wind picked up, we moved to the south coast, where the water is very protected. We had to maneuver through some reefs to find our preferred spot and got settled for about a week. Walks on shore revealed nothing more than barren land with sand, rocks and brush. There are a couple of salt ponds and nice views from a sand dune. Spanish Point offers a good look out over the crashing waves. Wild donkeys, horses and chicken roam the area and make up the other life to be found in the vicinity.

Low Bay on the west coast of the island is situated along an 11 mile stretch of pinkish sand. We expected other boats there, but in contrast to the other areas with a maximum of five boats, there was only one here: Irie! The beach was ours and we thoroughly enjoyed the solitude and the long walks with Darwin. Mark and I needed this little vacation away from it all to prepare ourselves for the busy times to come in St. Martin. Our stay in Barbuda truly charged our batteries and the fact that we were out of propane gas, fresh food, toothpaste, paper towels and other necessities didn’t matter that much. At least not for a few days.

On the first day of February we sailed our last long trip in pretty light winds. We made it to St. Barth before nightfall, saw jumping whales along the way and caught our first mahi mahi (dorado). The following day, we reached the familiar lagoon in St. Martin and reunited with many friends, eager to join the fish feast on Irie. It is great to see this whole group of sailing friends again and have a good time. Another working era has arrived and we will be doing just that for about three months before picking up the cruising life again. And, in the evenings, there are plenty of opportunities to socialize!