Day 7 · Fatu Hiva, Marquesas Islands · 4 March 2016
There are remote islands.
And then there is Fatu Hiva.
The only island on our itinerary without an airport.
No flights.
No airport lounges.
No baggage carousels.
If you want to visit Fatu Hiva, you arrive by boat.
Which makes arriving feel a little bit more special.
Following the Sound of Music
As our tender approached the village of Omoa, music drifted across the water.
Not recorded music.
Not speakers.
Real music.
Ukuleles.
Drums.
Voices.
The sort of welcome that immediately makes you smile.
Walking into the village felt like stepping backward in time.
Small homes lined the road.
Flowers spilled from gardens.
Children waved.
And the pace of life seemed entirely disconnected from the rest of the world.
An Ancient Tradition Still Alive
One of the highlights of the morning was watching local artisans demonstrate how tapa cloth is made.
The process is astonishing.
Bark is stripped from a tree.
Pounded.
Folded.
Stretched.
Worked repeatedly until it becomes a soft cloth-like material.
Standing there watching someone transform a piece of bark into fabric felt like witnessing history come alive.
Not in a museum.
Not behind glass.
Right in front of us.
The Great Hiking Separation
Then came a decision.
Kirsten was joining the hikers.
I wasn’t.
Years earlier I had completed the famous mountain crossing between Omoa and Hanavave.
This time it was her turn.
The route covers seventeen kilometres and climbs roughly 650 metres over the mountains.
She was excited.
I was supportive.
Mostly because I wasn’t the one doing it.
My Easier Version of the Adventure
While Kirsten climbed over mountains, I explored the village.
Local boys gathered around while I flew the drone.
We watched aerial footage of the bay together.
The kids were fascinated.
Honestly, so was I.
Travel often creates unexpected moments of connection.
Technology became the common language.
No translation required.
One of the Most Beautiful Bays on Earth
After lunch aboard the ship, we sailed around to Hanavave.
The approach was breathtaking.
Massive volcanic pillars rose above the harbour like giant stone guardians.
Sailboats floated peacefully below.
The surrounding mountains seemed almost too dramatic to be real.
I’ve visited a lot of beautiful places.
Virgin’s Bay remains near the top of the list.
Waiting for Kirsten
As passengers wandered through the village, I found myself looking repeatedly toward the mountain trail.
Eventually I spotted a familiar figure in the distance.
Kirsten.
Tired.
Sunburned.
Sore.
But smiling.
The hike had been difficult.
Hot.
Steep.
Demanding.
And absolutely worth it.
The views from the mountains had been extraordinary.
Even if her legs weren’t entirely convinced.
Sunset Over Virgin’s Bay
That evening I stood on the top deck of the Aranui watching the light change across the cliffs.
The colours shifted by the minute.
Greens became gold.
Gold became orange.
Then everything slowly faded into shadow.
The pool deck happy hour began below.
Music drifted through the air.
The bay grew quieter.
And I found myself wishing we could stay another day.
Some places impress you.
Others stay with you.
Fatu Hiva does both.
In the next installment: A fishing trip in Tahuata leaves me with a fish hook buried in my finger and a story that gets more painful every time I tell it.**
