Gauguin and an explosion on board

The gate at the entrance to the museum in Atuona on Hiva-Oa is wide open. This is now our third attempt to visit the museum. We made our first attempt shortly after our arrival, on a Sunday. A second attempt was then made on a Saturday, but also failed because the museum was closed despite regular opening hours. Now, on our third attempt, during the week, we stand in front of the reception desk and pay the entrance fee. 600Xpf for Gauguin and 500Xpf for Brel. Per nose, of course.

Paul Gauguin, Self-portrait Hiva-Oa, Marquesas

The museum is not very large and the paintings by Gauguin are copies, but it still conveys quite well how the artist lived on this island. But his other career is also described on display boards. We are traveling with the crew of the Tuvalu. Two Styrians from Graz, whom we have met before in the Caribbean. Back then we met at a beach bar. We only had brief contact with each other, as the Tuvalu was heading south and we were heading north. When we met her again here in the marina, that meeting had long been forgotten. However, I can hear the Styrian dialect and the memories of that day in Canouan in early April 2022 come flooding back. It's crazy, a human memory like that, but it always fascinates me. Anyway, I ask the two of them if they might be from near Graz in Styria. Somewhat surprised, they confirmed this, and from pictures in my archive, the dinghy is identified as the Tuvalu, on the Caribbean island. Yes, it's a small world, and we have a lot to talk about over the next few days. Roswitha and Gottfried have rented a car and we take the opportunity to drive into town and do some shopping.

Gaby and Paul on Hiva-Oa, Marquesas

We actually wanted to be a bit further on. In order to press on with our progress, I head to the petrol station full of enthusiasm, with two cans in my hand. I am suddenly stopped in my tracks as the petrol station's diesel tank is empty and has to be refilled via the emergency tank. The 20 Polynesian minutes turn into two hours. I repeat the trip twice, each time with 20 liters of diesel on my arms, the way to the dinghy, then to the boat, the canisters on the boat and back to the petrol station. The third time I wanted to fill up with fuel for the outboard motor when I was waved off and told that the fuel was out. Unfortunately, the boat is late with the fuel and is expected to arrive on Friday. So we have to wait at least until Friday, probably even until Saturday. Without fuel for the outboard motor, we would have to row, which is the worst option given the swell here in the Marquesas. So we keep hoping.

Paul Gauguin Museum on Hiva-Oa, Marquesas

This morning, we're sitting at breakfast when suddenly there's a bang from beyond. My first thought was that a booby had crashed onto the deck. On checking, I then discover that the stand-up board has exploded. I inflated it yesterday. Knowing full well that warm air expands, I went well below the recommended 15 PSI and stopped at 10 PSI. Obviously that was still too much. It looks like it has torn the inner fabric structure, so it's a total loss. It's a shame because the board was always a backup solution in case the dinghy failed. Here, in French Polynesia, it would be extremely difficult to get such a SUB. We will see.

Standup paddle after the explosion

Meanwhile, preparations for the Polynesian Festival in Nuku-Hiva are in full swing. A wooden catamaran was built for the festival. The two floats were brought into the bay on a heavy transporter and assembled. It is now in the water and will probably be loaded onto the supply ship and transported to Nuku-Hiva. We will certainly see it there again.

Wooden catamaran on Hiva-Oa, Marquesas

Our preparations for the festival are also largely complete. All that's missing is the fuel and then we can set off. The weather is expected to be moderate over the next few days, although we are already familiar with such statements. Nevertheless, we are confident and hope that we will get a spot in the large bay of Nuku-Hiva. We already had a taste of it this week when a Canadian thought he had to anchor next to us. It was only when I had to push his boat away from ours after five days that he understood and dropped anchor. If there's enough space in the bay, I always ask myself whether something like that is necessary. There are people who are simply borderline. Of course, it would have been possible for us to change places, which would have meant a quieter night for us, but the annoyance would still have remained. We'll see how things go on Nuku-Hiva. We are looking forward to the festival and will of course report back. Until then, fair winds and keep a stiff upper lip.