Gresham Family Exodus

The beautiful white sandy beach offered more than fun in the surf and sun.  All four boys (Alex & Brenden & the two Lady Carolina boys) were playing on or near shore with their surfboards, when Tim and I hear Brenden start yelling, “Mom!  Alex needs help!”  They are close to the boat at this point and Brenden is paddling Alex back on one of the surf boards, and Alex is in obvious distress.  Once he was on board, we could see that he had pink welts all over his chest, stomach, and one of his arms.  He was crying, and saying, “it hurts, it hurts, it hurts,” and Alex doesn’t cry.  I obviously gasped or made a face or something when I saw the welts, because Tim yelled at me, “You’re not helping!” 

We went about putting vinegar all over his welts, but this didn’t seem to be helping, so we tried baking soda and ice.  This really seemed to help the pain, so we kept this up for a while.  He was in pretty much agonizing pain for about 30-40 min, and then it seemed to lighten up for good.  He rallied and even went over to Lady Carolina with us that evening for a potluck.  He got to show off his welts.

Reading up a bit more after the fact, the first aid book said to initially put a paste of baking soda and sea water on the welts in order to scrape off any loose tentacles that are still attached and possibly still releasing venom.  However, it says, absolutely do not use fresh water since this activates the venom already there, so we blew it by using the ice, I guess.  Then it said to use vinegar to continue neutralizing the stings.  The ice seemed to help since it numbed the stings, but maybe it would have passed more quickly overall if we hadn’t used fresh water.  Of course, there were lots of jokes all around about who would pee on it next time it happens.  I guess we can thank the sitcom Friends for the fact that it is now common knowledge that if you don’t have vinegar, you can use pee instead.

I’ve already mentioned in a previous essay how one of our younger cruising friends said to me, “but we love you guys,” referring to the old, or rather, middle aged crowd, but this really takes the cake.

We met a couple of young guys taking some time off from their lives to cross the Pacific from Mexico to Australia.  We hung out a few times, and they also went diving with Tim a few times.  The first time they came over to Exodus they brought a horrendous bottle of pink wine, and I thanked them by pouring them glasses and sharing it with them.  Well, it turns out one, or maybe both of them, I don’t remember, are also engineers, and one evening the rum was flowing, and one of them asked me what it was like being a woman in engineering back in my day.  Ha!

While in Atuona, I happened to be standing on shore waiting for one of my dinghy chauffeurs to come pick me up, when the Gendarme pulled up in his pickup truck.  He showed me a clipboard which held a picture of a young family: father, mother, daughter.  I noticed the mother and daughter were Asian, and they all looked happy.  The Gendarme asked me if I had seen them or their vessel, Norango.  They left Panama City on Feb 18 bound for The Marquesas, and they have not been heard from since.  It’s now early April, so I can see why their friends and family would be worried.  I let him know that no, I hadn’t seen them, and yes, I would ask around among the other cruisers.  Then he drove away, which sort of surprised me since I seemed to be the only one he talked to. 

Fast forward to Fatu Hiva, when a small, well weathered, vessel seemed to limp into the anchorage.  We were all enjoying drinks on Lady Carolina at the time, and from my vantage point I couldn’t make out the entire boat name, but I thought in ended in “…ango.”  It took several minutes for that to sink in, and when I realized it might be the missing vessel, I started asking everyone else what they thought the boat name was.  No one had a terribly good look, so I decided to paddle over and talk to them. If it’s not them, then hey, I’m simply welcoming a new boat to the anchorage.

Of course, it turned out to be them.  They were David, Lynn, and Sianna (6 years old) and you could tell right away that they had been at sea a long time and that they were so happy to be there because they just soaked up my presence, the presence of another person, which they hadn’t had in so long.  We talked for quite a while with me on my knees on my paddle board, and I told them about the Gendarme looking for them.  They realized, yes, yes, everyone must be so worried about them, because unlike us, who transmit our position every 15 minutes via InReach and who send an e-mail via SSB radio almost daily, they did not have any means of long-range communication while at sea.  They would go to shore in the morning to notify the authorities of their arrival, but I offered to send emails to their families right then if they wanted me to.  I could just imagine how every night must be difficult for their loved ones not knowing their fate.

Once I made it back to Lady Carolina after stopping at Exodus to send those emails, I told Steve about them, and he right away headed over in the dinghy to invite them over, and apparently there was some reluctance on Lynn’s part, because David had already been imbibing much alcohol, but in the end, Steve talked her into it.  I think Siana was the happiest to come over.  Imagine a very social little 6-year-old girl at sea with her parents for 45 days.  She loved being with all the boys.  They let her play with the Legos and stuffed animals, and from the cockpit I could hear her constantly chattering away.  I felt happy for her.

We learned that they had, in fact, made landfall at The Galapagos hoping to take on fuel and water, but they were turned away by the Ecuador Officials unless they paid the outrageous landing fee.  They didn’t want to stay they just wanted to take on resources, but Ecuador still said no.  I guess they ended up getting water from another cruising vessel at some point.  Anyway, while the French Government was looking for them Ecuador made no report that they had stopped in The Galapagos.  So, that seems like a failure times 2 on the part of Ecuador.  First, turning away a vessel that is in need of resources is a safety issue, and the fact that they were turned away is negligence on the part of the Ecuador government, in my opinion.  Second, when contacted by the French government, they should have had some record of their visit to The Galapagos, no matter how brief, to report back.  Since The Galapagos was a planned stop for them, as far as anyone knew, they had never even made it there.  So, “Boo!  Boo, Ecuador, Boo!”

Fatu Hiva is the most windward of all the islands in The Marquesas, so from a sailing perspective, it would be the obvious first choice as a place to make landfall.  However, there is no Gendarmerie on Fatu Hiva, and it is not an official port of entry.  So, to be legal a boat must first go to Hiva Oa and then bash a bit to windward to get to Fatu Hiva.  Such is the Fatu Hiva Dilemma.  Do you do what makes the most sense from a cruising perspective or do you follow the rules? 

Needless to say, since we had no idea of what the risk would be to NOT follow the rules, we followed the rules, and had a somewhat unpleasant overnight bash down from Hiva Oa to Fatu Hiva.  OK, this was mostly me, Tim TOTALLY would have just gone to Fatu Hiva.  And in this specific instance, he was right.

We met several other boats while we were there who made landfall in Fatu Hiva.  The ones we noticed flew their yellow “Q” flag and some checked in with the local municipal police, and then they did their official clear in when they got to Hiva Oa.  There were no repercussions as far as we could tell, and at least in some cases, the clocks didn’t start on their 3-month visa until their official clear in, so they essentially got extra time in French Polynesia by NOT following the rules.

Oh well. Now we know.

Hanaiapa, on the north side of Hiva Oa, was a nice little town.  There were no stores or services there, but it was clean, the houses were well looked after, and the people were friendly.  We went to shore with Lady Carolina and True Blue V, so we were quite the gang walking around.  We passed a house with a well-cared for yard and noticed a sign saying “Yacht Club” which caused us all to smile a bit.  Before we had completely passed by the house, a man came out who spoke a little bit of English, and he introduced himself as William.  Well, we had read in the guidebook about William and his yacht club, so I asked if it would be possible for us to sign his guidebook.  He said yes, if we could come back, maybe in about an hour. 

So, after our walking tour of the village, we returned to the yacht club, and William gave us a warm welcome.  His house was modest, with a small entry way with a table and chairs, and he had enough chairs for all of us.  He served us lemonade in only slightly dirty glasses and passed around coconut and banana.  Then he brought out his guest books, and they were fun to look through.  Many, many cruisers from years past have signed.  In fact, Steve was pretty sure his parents had met William and signed his guest book 20 or so years before, but we learned that the older books had been destroyed when William’s house caught on fire a few years back.  We had a pleasant time, signed the guest book, and William gave us stalks of Bananas to take with us. 

Then came the punchline.  He started talking about how he would not take any money for any of this, but if we had some things to trade, that would be good.  Specifically, wine or rum.  We asked him if there was anything else he needed, like rope, or fishing hooks, or anything.  No.  He was adamant, he would like rum or wine.  We told him OK, we would return likely the next day, and he said he would prefer to walk with us down to the dock to get it.  I guess he was desperate.  We ended up giving him two boxes of wine, and wouldn’t you know he asked about the fact that there were 3 boats among us, but we just responded that True Blue V didn’t drink.  (Ha, yeah, right!)

We had a pleasant day, and the visit with William was very nice.  But something about it felt icky afterward.  We like giving, and would give almost anything we had, but it became apparent that he runs the yacht club to get alcohol and only alcohol.