Day 8 · Tahuata, Marquesas Islands · 5 March 2016

Some travel stories begin with stunning scenery.

Some begin with incredible food.

And some begin with a fish hook buried in your finger.

This is one of those stories.

A Morning Worth Waking Up For

At 5:45 in the morning, Kirsten slid open the balcony door and quietly stepped outside.

Most normal people would have remained in bed.

I followed her.

Because when you’re sailing through the Marquesas at sunrise, sleep becomes negotiable.

The island of Tahuata slipped silently past our ship in the soft morning light. The ocean was calm, the air was still, and the entire world seemed to be moving in slow motion.

Then Kirsten spotted dolphins.

Moments later, flying fish skipped across the surface like tiny silver stones.

It was one of those mornings that makes you grateful you got out of bed.

Separate Adventures

After breakfast, Kirsten headed into the village of Vaitahu.

I headed in the opposite direction.

Toward a fishing boat.

Now, I am not what anyone would call a serious fisherman.

My fishing strategy usually consists of enthusiasm and optimism.

Neither of which are recognized by fish.

Still, spending a few hours on the water around Tahuata sounded like a pretty good way to spend a morning.

Fish Everywhere

For the first hour, not much happened.

We trolled along the coastline while admiring the scenery.

Then someone caught a tuna.

Encouraged by this success, we stopped and switched tactics.

That was when everything changed.

Suddenly fish seemed to appear everywhere.

Lines went into the water.

Fish came out.

Then more fish.

Then even more fish.

Every time someone reeled in a line there seemed to be another fish attached to it.

The fishing gods had apparently decided to be generous.

The Moment Everything Went Wrong

I caught a beautiful red fish and proudly pulled it aboard.

Unfortunately, my celebration was premature.

As I grabbed the line, I felt a sharp pain.

I looked down.

A large fishing hook was embedded deep in my finger.

Not dangling.

Not lightly attached.

Embedded.

Very embedded.

The fish had officially gotten its revenge.

A Problem With One Obvious Solution

The crew gathered around.

Everyone remained remarkably calm.

This was reassuring.

Until they explained what needed to happen.

The hook’s barb prevented it from simply being pulled out.

The only solution was to push the hook completely through my finger until the barb emerged on the other side.

Then cut off the barb.

Then remove the hook.

I would like to report that I handled this bravely.

That would be a lie.

Character Building

The first attempt was unsuccessful.

The second attempt was unpleasant.

The third attempt involved me reconsidering every decision that had led me to this exact moment.

Eventually the boat captain took over.

The hook emerged.

The barb was clipped.

The rest of the hook came out.

I survived.

Barely.

At least according to my dramatic retelling of the story.

Back to Fishing

After some disinfectant, iodine, and a bandage, I was ready to continue.

Which sounds far more courageous than it actually was.

The reality was simple.

I wasn’t about to let a fish win.

The rest of the trip went smoothly.

We caught a surprising number of fish.

Including a large wahoo caught on the way back to the village.

By the end of the excursion, everyone had a story.

Mine just happened to involve minor surgery.

The Beach Break

Following lunch, the afternoon shifted into island mode.

The Aranui anchored near a beautiful white-sand beach where passengers spent several hours swimming, relaxing, and enjoying the warm tropical water.

Compared to the dramatic mountain landscapes of previous days, this felt almost lazy.

In the best possible way.

Palm trees swayed.

The ocean sparkled.

People floated in the water.

Nobody seemed particularly interested in schedules.

A Small Price to Pay

That evening I sat on the balcony watching the sunset while nursing a bruised finger.

It was swollen.

Purple.

Tender.

And oddly satisfying.

Every trip seems to collect little souvenirs.

Photographs.

Friendships.

Memories.

This one happened to include a puncture wound.

Fortunately, it also included dolphins, flying fish, and one of the most beautiful mornings we’d experienced in French Polynesia.

I’d call that a fair trade.

In the next installment: We arrive on Ua Huka, where wild horses outnumber people, a local guide nearly gives me a heart attack on a mountain road, and we discover one of the least-visited islands in the Marquesas.