Hanavave, Fatu Hiva 25 April 2010 10.4644S 138.6689W
Passage is one experience, the journey another. In passage it was easy to share a moment in a day and over the course of many similar days, I felt I was able to capture the moods aboard and bring you along. I’m thinking this may possibly be one of the most beautiful places on the planet that I’ve ever seen, and yet none of my pictures do it justice, and I’m worried that words will not paint this scene well for you either.
I’m sitting now in the salon, a rare quiet moment. Frank and the kids have gone ashore to play ultimate frisbee with other cruisers and locals. Only the night before last, we pulled up anchor from Atuona on Hiva Oa, and made way over here to Fatu Hiva. We’ve done hikes where we made more way vertical than horizontal. We’ve seen archaeological sites, and swum in freshwater pools below towering waterfalls. We’ve eaten a traditional meal with a family here. We’ve been to church and can still feel the resonance of the Marquesian catholic chants mixed with their harmonies. We’ve done all that and more in less than two days. It’s not that we’re rushing exactly, but maybe we are a little greedy for all that is here; especially after the quiet balance of passage, and then the busyness of entry and reprovisioning.
Our 3 months in French Polynesia are going to fly by. I can see how Gauguin and Jacques Brel, landed and stayed, each in their own way finding the ultimate challenge and the quintessential muse for their artistic expression. I could spend a lifetime describing just one aspect of this place for you, and still never quite capture the essence.
We’re anchored in more of an indentation than a cove, but it’s a deep V both in plan and in elevation. Our cove is lined with steep vertical dark lava and basalt cliffs, as always dripping with vegetation, wherever it can get a foothold. The vertical cliffs, as they march into shore, get higher and more dramatic, exploding through the greenery with big towering black Tiki shapes, which must have been the original Tiki inspiration. More tiki-like cliffs create vertical columns on either side of the village, and beyond you can see mountainous vertical cliffs in an amphitheater shape surrounding one of those sloppy green valleys. Some of the mountains beyond have deep cuts, and even holes through to blue sky beyond. The mountains seem to tickle the sky and catch every cloud in the vicinity squeezing rain out of the smallest puffs. Down where we are, the rain is rare, but you can see the dark clouds stop to laugh up their precious load for the highest walls of the amphitheater. The resulting lighting is equally dramatic. Horizontal sunbeams break through the clouds to spotlight mating tropic birds, with their bright white wings and tails vivid against the dark cloud, dark green and dark cliff backdrops. And the sunny patches race across the landscape turning dark green to bright green, with a time-lapse affect, they fly by so fast.
If you start with black, and move across the green spectrum to white, every shade of green can be found here. I could use some advice on photographing These Greens. In Baja, I always felt good about a day of photographing the clean lines of the shells, rocks and sand with neat highlights of green cactus. Here the lens just blends all These Greens, into a mushy boring green blend, capturing none of the subtle and not so subtle shifts in green yellow and black. And when the sun beams in at just the right angle, highlighting all the perfect spots, the lens just turns everything yellow. Bright colored flowers, look great with the green backdrop, but many are hidden in so much green, that only close-ups reveal their beauty. I guess that challenge, is why we revere Gauguin’s talents at capturing the lighting, colors and moods here.
Well, I’ll never paint like Gauguin, sing like Brel, or write like Steinbeck, but I’ll be happy if one phrase or sentence or image can transport you here with me for just a moment; I miss you all so.
xoxomo