Casting off

  The Marquises; Hiva Oa, Fatu Hiva, Nuku Hiva and Ua Pou is the first cluster of islands we encounter arriving in French Polynesia in mid April. The names melt like m n m’s on my pallet, bright and sweet. We are far away from home and the Marquises feels otherworldly. At sunset drums pound from the valley and plumes of smoke drift up from the hills. There is an eerie intensity to the sound travelling across the bay. Something from days gone by. Before sunrise a group of outriggers glide by in the pale morning light. Singing trails their wake, ethereal and foreign. I stick my head out the hatch and as in a dream I see a boat disappear in the mist. We arrive to the island of Fatu Hiva, for Easter and go to 8 a.m. mass, dressed in our rumpled Sunday best. The Chapel is filled with locals and cruisers. Tropical flowers adorn the church and women’s’ hair, splashes of red, yellow, orange and pink. Looking out the open-air windows, the hillside is a jumble of Hibiscus, Bougainvi