Va'a

Here, and below - who's paddling in the #5 spot?  Could it be?

Va'a ono

Va'a are the outrigger canoes that you see everywhere in French Polynesia.

Va'a hoe

I don't like the phrase "bucket list" - it implies such an acquisitive attitude towards experience, to go along with everything else that is acquisitive about our culture.

But for the longest time I have been keen to try paddling a va'a.  They're so sleek and fast and such a part of the culture here.

So, mark up one more to Rapa.  Our friend Johnny - Tihoni Faraire, to use his Rapa name - was quite the paddler as a young man, and today is the coach for the local paddlers in Rapa.  People train for this, and compete at a variety of levels, you see.

The other day, when the blokes had gathered at his house to paddle the va'a ono, the six-person canoes, he let me take out his va'a hoe - the one-person version.

Ruben, the raconteur and nurse who has been a great friend to Galactic, was there to train with the other blokes.  ("The paddling, it is so very hard," he says.  "The other men in the boat with me are so VERY FAT.  It makes it so hard.")  Rueben helped me to get into the va'a hoe and gave me the most basic instruction.  He let go of the boat - and I immediately flipped it.  Turns out
they're stable as can be to port, and completely unforgiving to starboard.

Once I had that figured out, it was a breeze to paddle around the protected Baie Haurie while the big boats disappeared around the headland, six men paddling in unison in each.

I showed up again yesterday at the appointed hour (3:30, gotta love the non-9 to 5 lifestyle) and Johhny looked at me and said, "Va'a ono!"

Now, it was not my ambition to paddle in one of the big boats.  You've got to paddle in unison, you've got to keep up with the pace, and these guys have been paddling since they were boys.

Plus, I don't speak French, Tahitian or Rapa, remember?

But my only goal with all this travel is to be game for whatever comes along.  So I hopped in, a little nervous, and started a-paddlin'.

Ruben holding court during the
long BS session that follows
the paddling

The best paddlers are in the bow - that's the guy who sets the cadence and calls the frequent switches from side to side - and in the stern, where responsibilities for steering reside.

I watched the paddles ahead of me, and tried to catch on to the timing of the switches as quickly as I could.  And then, presto - there I was, in a va'a ono, paddling out of the bay of one of the most remote islands in Polynesia, over the reefs and close to the waves breaking on the rocky headlands.

We paddled for an hour.  With one break early on and one break right at the end.  My concern at first was just keeping up, but later I also started to concentrate on not splashing the men in front of me, not dropping the paddle on a switch as my hands got tired (!) and not throwing up.  I might not have paced myself so well at the outset.

But what a treat to be out there with those big Polynesian men (fat or not, they're fit for paddling - and I wasn't the oldest by more than a decade) paddling off a high volcanic island with the bowman calling the switches and Johnny behind me calling out instructions now and then in the delightfully guttural sounds of Rapa.

In terms of getting down with the people of Polynesia, masculine-style, it's a much better experience than smoking dope with the pig hunters of the Marquesas, let me tell you.

I think I'll show again this afternoon.

And - further Rapa twist - we had Johnny and Jackye over to the boat last night for a light dinner.  And I coulda sworn Johnny said he was going to give me the paddle that I used.

My rule of thumb in Polynesia is to refuse no gift.  But honestly, generosity like that can easily overwhelm.

Scenes

Johnny is an important guy in the Rapa community.  He's fifty, he's a very active fisherman, he's a member of the council that administers rauhui, the community fisheries management plan based on

Eric, Johnny, and a yellowfin tuna
caught on hand line.  Just like in Kodiak,
where king crab legs sometimes go into
crab dip, part of this tuna went onto a…
tuna pizza.  Nothing compares to the casual
use of luxury foods in the
source communities

rotating closed areas around the island that is surely the envy of subsistence fishing communities around the world.

Johnny is also an even-tempered guy.  Our acquaintance has been short, and necessarily shallow because of the language barrier, but I get the idea that it’s hard to get him angry.

But when he was on our boat for dinner the other night, and we were showing each other pictures of Alaska and Rapa, he showed us a picture on his phone of a ship anchored in Baie Haurie, the harbor of Rapa.

A scientific ship from New Zealand, he explained.  They were here, we know they were diving around Rapa, but they never explained to us what they were doing. 

There was a real bitterness in his voice and his demeanor – a palpable sense of being wronged.

Public "outreach" is all the rage in Alaskan marine science.  Especially if a group will be working in the area around a subsistence community, there is a strong expectation that the scientists involved will present their work to the locals and solicit feedback.

Here, and below - scenes of Rapan celebration

The Kiwi-flagged ship that Johnny had photographed didn't do that.  And oh boy, did they miss out as

a result.

The National Geographic "Pristine Seas" group, and the Pew marine protected area people who were working with them, took a completely different approach.

A central goal of theirs was securing local support for the establishment of a marine protected area in the Australs.  They went fishing with locals, and took locals on their sampling/filming trips, and generally did everything they could to make their work valuable to the people of Rapa.  So, for instance, when some locals suggested that it might be a good idea if they were invited on board the  Hanse Explorer for a party, the Nat Geo guys didn't hem and haw and try to fit it in at the end of their trip.  They invited their local contacts, and their contacts' families, on board at the soonest opportunity for beer and wine and finger foods and a viewing of a rough cut of the footage they had been shooting.

They also presented a ten-minute version of their movie and an overview of their scientific results to the whole community at the end of their trip, and had the entire school on board the ship for a tour.

The people of Rapa, in turn, did something that Polynesian cultures clearly excel at – they treated these visitors as honored guests.  They reciprocated with the leis and necklaces and flower crowns and woven hats that are the Polynesian way of saying, "you are special – we honor you!"  They played music for the visitors and sang them songs and taught them local dance (the "Haole haka" - always a crowd pleaser).

On the VIP list.  The written invite from the
mayor was immediately a treasured souvenir

And, they showed their welcome with ma'a – food.  Or, more accurately, with feasts.  Food is a center of social life and festivity everywhere, but even more so in Rapa, if you follow me.

Gettin' down with the people

And, so being included in all this, we got to see a wonderful side of Rapa.  This place isn't any kind of time warp – the people here are modern, with experience of

Mao leading the Rapa hake, haole-style

life in the big smoke of Pape'ete.  They have their cell phones and Facebook pages and they watch the French version of "Dancing with the Stars" at night.  But, since there is no airport they are also modern in an undiluted version of their home island, if you will.  Visitors are still a special event, and don't threaten to outnumber the locals as they do in so many places in French Polynesia.  And so although this place is of the contemporary world, the willingness and ability to celebrate visitors might be akin to something from decades gone by in most of the region.

The Nat Geos and Hanse Explorer crew, decked
out for departure 

In other words, we were treated to a number of scenes of community celebration that were very reminiscent, I imagine, of what a sailor might have encountered had they sailed into this place forty years ago, when the Pacific was innocent of the great modern herds of travelling sailboats, and a friendly face from foreign shores was something to celebrate.

The interaction between the Nat Geo folks and the Rapans culminated in a picture-perfect sendoff for the Hanse Explorer.  There were mutual gifts and songs and dance and endless waving as the ship slowly moved away from the dock.  And then, puzzled expressions ashore as the ship came back and turned around to leave a second time so that the cameraman operating the drogue could get the departure shot for the movie.

Farewelling the Hanse Explorer

That was Thursday when the Hanse Explorer left Rapa, and the celebrations ended…until Sunday, when the monthly feast for the Protestant populations of the two villages rolled around.  There was singing, there was music of ukulele and kamaka and guitar.  There was food for all, and enough for everyone to takeaway for a second meal at home.  And there were Alisa and myself (the boys were eating at the kids' table) sitting at the VIP table with our friend and interpreter Jackye and the venerated old people of Rapa.

Here, and below - the celebrations continue, local style

Four Days of Rapa

Rapa from seaward.  A very very romantic landfall, and the four meter seas helped with the ambience

Rapa…

I'm afraid that words and pictures are going to be stretched a bit to capture this one.

This is a place that I've dreamed of visiting for years, and now that we're here the experience is, as always, very different from anything that I imagined beforehand, and, because it is true in the particular details that we couldn't have pictured before, better than we could have expected.

The pace of events has made seeking out internet time a second-best priority.  But for now, sitting on the porch of some new local friends' house (he is just now coming in from a paddle in his pirogue…so we will pause this entry while I have a heartfelt discourse for a few minutes, mostly in pantomime) I get the chance to share these pictures from our first four days in Rapa.

The crew, ready for shore after two days at sea

The village of Ahurei

I'm glad Dad doesn't make me
do varnish like this

As I noted in a couple earlier posts, we were very lucky to find our arrival coinciding with the visit of the Hanse Explorer and the National Geographic crew that had chartered the boat.  

The anchorage of Baie D'Ha'urie is infamous for being an insecure place to anchor, and Martin, the captain of the Hanse Explorer, very kindly allowed us to raft up at the dock.

Not to be dramatic about it, but if you haven't been to sea in your own boat you can't imagine how utterly alone we were on the 300-mile sail from Ra'ivavae.  Just us and our boat and the big big Pacific.  And then suddenly we find ourselves coming alongside this small ship, and climbing the pilot ladder to get aboard, and interacting with a bunch of friendly strangers - what a transition.

The Nat Geo folks invited us to a little party on board that night, which seemed to set the precedent for involving us in anything that was going on for the rest of their stay.  Very kind.

And how we got up there...

And, I said "friendly strangers" just now, but that wasn't strictly true, as the Chief Mate of the Hanse, Madeleine Habib, is from Hobart and is friends with one of our great friends back there.  So it was a pleasure to make the connection with her. 

The Habib-Abookire Union of Seagoing Arab Sheilas

(can I say "Sheila" in this context?) wearing the head

garb, post-reception our first night

What's next - oh yes, the fundraiser for the local youth group that was being held by the community - dinner and dancing, for 3000 CFP a head, or about $35 USD.  A bit out of our price range, to be honest, but as it was for a good cause and everyone was apparently going, we would have been happy to throw down…except that, hearing we couldn't buy much of anything in Rapa, and not sure at one point if we wouldn't clear out of French Polynesia from Ra'ivavae, we had purposely used up all of our local currency.

But wait - not a problem.  Nat Geo was shouting for the entire ship's crew to attend, and Paul Rose, the Expedition Leader (I maintain that you can't have an "expedition" to a place that a four-year-old can happily sail to, but that's a quibble) very graciously extended the invitation to us as well.  

Why?  I can only guess that the Polynesian worldview is catching.

A table, somewhere under all the food

Poema, the trilingual Pew Charitable Trust Marine Protected Area

community engagement powerhouse, and friend to Galactic.  She's the one

who told us in Ra'ivavae that we would cry when we left Rapa

Lord knows what I'm saying to the poor kid

Eric, taking on all comers.  He holds his own in these situations, but at

the expense of sometimes being a little rougher than we would like

Ah, yes - and this is where I mention our pleasant interactions with Rueben, the Togolese public health nurse who is posted here.  He and Julie, the nurse on Ra'ivavae, have just naturally assumed that our family fell under their purview during our visits…a "you're here, you're human, if you're sick I'll help you, here, give this antibiotic to your kid, would you?" sort of attitude.  Very French, I suppose, and also the type of interaction that can provide a bit of unexpected comfort to traveling parents.

Rueben in conversation: "Polynesians eat too much.  Everyone here gets

sick because they ARE TOO FAT.  In Africa people die because they

don't eat enough.  Here people die because they eat too much."

And this was a good one…  Alisa tried to invite Jackye and Johnnie, a local couple who have been incredibly nice to us, over for coffee and cake.  This morphed into five adults and a child coming over for dinner - they always eat together, explained Jackye.  (Everyone has a Rapan name and a French/Western name.  The Western names are the ones we remember, go figure.)

We were thrilled to have everyone at the boat…except that we are low on "hospitality" food - we're doing lots of rice and beans and pasta for our family meals - and we can't buy anything here for a special dinner with friends.  AND we're out of beer and wine, AND we don't have access to the local foods that are the mainstay of the Rapa diet, AND Polynesians eat a lot, and when you feed someone you naturally want to give them a very good meal.  So there was a little pre-dinner angst from Alisa.  But we made do with deviled eggs and pasta with our last two jars of New Zealand beef and a cabbage salad and the many things that Jackye and Johnnie brought.  No need for concern - we all had a great time.

These guys are used to the ways of yachts, and they showed up dressed

warmly, expecting to stay in the cockpit for the entire meal

Our guests brought LOTS of vana - sea urchin roe.  A delicacy    

And of course we moved the party downstairs, where things are more

comfortable.  That's Martin on the right, the captain of the Hanse

 Explorer, making an appearance

Jackye and Alisa dressed for church the next day    

Elias before church - I love how this picture captures his wariness in 

a new village setting.  He and his brother are the leading attraction for

every kid in sight, and coming to a common understanding of what

fun play entails can take a little working out

The inside of the church 

And our little ambassador.  Parents were happy to let their kids try to get

Eric's attention throughout the service

Then of course there are the pare, the "hyper-fortified" ridge-top village sites that Rapa is famous for.  

More on them in a future post, I imagine.

Morongo Uta, one of the largest pare sites, and conveniently the

easiest to get to

And the view of Baie D'Ha'urie that you get along the way...    

Finally, I'll just note that we continue to have a great time with Lucie and Arnold and their boys.  Through the years we've heard yachties talk about being "adopted" by local familes in Polynesia.  This is the first time that that word seems appropriate for describing our interaction with islanders - these two just assume that we should be involved in whatever their family is doing on a particular day, even though our inability to speak French makes us pretty dull companions.

Eric and Elias and Armold Jr. and Lucie at Sunday dinner.  We really must

learn their last name.  Lucie is from Tahuata, in the Marquesas.  

Spouses from off the island seem to be in demand…the population

of Rapa got down to about 100 people during the post-contact

apocalypse,which is quite a genetic bottleneck

Arnold in their taro fields

Elias and Arnold Jr.

Of course the whole point of writing a "sailing blog" is to try to capture some larger perspective on the fly - to get, and share, some glimpse of What It All Means.

But I think Rapa will defeat any attempt to share real-time perspective…we're just going to have to live in this place as fully as we can in the short time that we'll be here.

Late-night party animal

More soon.

Galactic at the dock