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"Fatu Hiva, the southernmost of the Marquesas, is the most magnificent, spectacular and beautiful island on earth," writes Australian sailor Jill Knight in YACHTING MONTHLY. Having traveled on her 37-foot boat to hundreds of islands around the world, she ought to know.

Our 98 companions agreed. We were on a 16-day Pacific cruise aboard the cargo-ship Aranui, and had plenty of time to talk with everyone, a bunch of independent travelaholics. Freighter travelers are like no other gathering of tourists, for there was hardly a place they hadn t been. Africa? India? China? Europe? South America? Antarctica? Done it all!

The fourteen Marquesas Islands (six are populated) lie eight hundred miles equidistant from Hawaii and Papeete, the capital of Tahiti. They are definitely not easy to reach, which may well account for the unspoiled aspect of their wild beauty. You can sail there, as Jill Knight did, on your own boat, or, you can take a sixteen-day cruise on the cargo-ship Aranui.

Because it is so sparingly visited, the villagers display a genuine hospitality that is engaging and disarming. Little children ran up to us as we stepped foot on the dock, not to sell anything, but to hold our hands and walk us around their villages. Wendy, my daily swim companion, spoke for everyone: "This is the most gorgeous most unspoiled place on earth, bar none."

With a collective intake of breath all 100 of us crowded the rail as the mega-ton Aranui entered Fatu Hiva s bay at Hanavave. We had traveled 800 miles north of Tahiti s Society Islands, currently one of the most popular honeymoon travel destinations.

"I thought Bora Bora and Moorea were beautiful, but this beats all!" Wendy added. We would spend the next fortnight oohing and aahing all over the place.

Sharp pinnacles of rock scraped the sky, while along the emerald shore line waves cascaded over savage cairns of rock. Goats and sheep looked down from the sheer cliffs. Catholic missionaries had named this the Baie des Virges because they said the sculpted rock curtains surrounding the harbor formed shapes of veiled virgins.

Jill Knight wrote, "At dawn Baie des Virges becomes visible as a tiny crevice in a majestic tableau. A huddle of yachts lie like toys, dwarfed by the grandeur of their surroundings."

ADAM AND EVE WOULD NOT SNEEZE AT THIS PLACE

Ashore, we discovered lush gardens and craft centers where tapa cloth and wood and stone sculptures were created. We spent time in the settlements and then occasionally we were whisked away in the back of pick-up truchs for a mountaintop pique-nique or a swim by a waterfall. We saw people who looked like they had stepped out of a Gaugin painting; in fact, we saw a few people who resembled the painter, who spent many years here.

We ate freshly prepared pig and poi at luaus, we rode horses along untrammeled cliffs, we saw herds of wild horses scampering across the horizon, (I was sure they were headed for certain death in the rocky bays below) and we took rides in a helicopter to look down on this unspoiled paradise. Who could ask for anything more?

Each of the islands was a little bit different, but they all had in common an extreme lushness of the senses. The floral scents, frangipani, bougainvillea, tropical roses, and blooms I ve never seen before, filled the air. All the local people wore flowers in their hair; we tourists quickly followed suit. Islanders speak Polynesian, French and some English.

The clothing that both men and women wore reflected the graceful lines and bright pink, purple, orange colors of the flowers. These wraparound outfits were not the muu-muus of the sixties, but completely original fabrics, draped graciously over the islander s curvy bodies. The piece of fabric is called a pareo (pah-RAY-oh), and there must be fifteen different ways to tie it.

The best part of visiting the islands was the gentle loving welcome of the people from two year old toddlers to 75-year-old village chiefs—who treated us like treasured guests. At Fatu Hiva and the other stops at the six inhabited islands of the Marquesas, the residents offered songs, dances and smiles. These performances were completely natural, not like something arranged by the tourist board.

CARGO SHIP LIVIN IS EASY

Daily life was simple and unstressful, as is often the case onboard a freighter. Basically, you find out what the ship's rhythm is, and get into the groove. Aranui's premier purpose was to service the Marquesan community, and the passengers' needs were secondary. The cargo was removed before we went ashore.

Watching the cargo removal was a huge lesson in physics, for which we all crowded the rail. The stevedores, big tattooed men, lifted two-ton trucks through the surf without breaking a sweat. A number of older ladies seemed to swoon as it became their turn to be offloaded. Down the exterior gangplank they walked, midships alongside the 350-foot long metal ship, quivering with excitement. At the end of the gangplank, sometimes under very "surfy" conditions, two stevedores would toss the blue-haired ladies onto the waiting tender or onto the pier, to be caught by two more burly bare-chested men. "Ooohh," the ladies would sigh. You know it was described again and again around bridge tables back home in Cleveland, or Dallas, or wherever. (Or Boston.)

The accommodations and common rooms (dining room, bar, library, lounge, a small video room, and decks) were clean and neat. My husband Steve and I had an inside cabin and shared the head with two other people.

Life onboard is simple, unstructured and unstressful. To say that one does not have to dress for dinner, as you would on a fancy cruising ship, is to understate the case. By trip's end, we were barefoot and wearing pareos to the dining room. We did not expect a midnight buffet, can-can dancers or black-tie at the captain s table. In point of fact, our captain was an extremely shy man. Not only did he not preside over a "Table" he was a nearly invisible personage. But he was an accomplished sailor, maneuvering our 15,000-ton craft in and out of coves and bays with the skill of a master.

"Quiet time" with one's companion, conversation with new friends, joking, reading, sightseeing, drinking and eating were the main activities. Food, we decided, was more bountiful than it was elegant, although the wine was a selection of very lovely French reds and whites. After a few nights at sea, the dinner repertoire was exhausted (chicken, fish, chicken, fish), we decided that the best meal of the day was breakfast: great French coffee, freshly made croissants, pancakes, bacon and eggs. Lunch might be a salade Niçoise with lovely fresh pineapples for dessert, and dinner was often a wild stab at a French dish. Wine flowed like water and was included in the price, so no one complained too much about the food.

Prices ranged from $2000 (shared dormitory style bunks) to $4000 (outside cabins). This included all meals, wine at lunch and dinner, and all excursions, except the helicopter ride. Bounty Bars, the candy bar of choice at the ship's store, considered by some to be an aphrodisiac, were extra.

OF SHELLS AND SHARKS

Jack London wrote that the beauty of the islands provoked "a pang that almost hurt" in "The Voyage of the Shark." And, speaking of sharks, they were part of the entertainment en route. On the way out and back we stopped in the Tuamotos, a collection of 84 coral atolls.

Our first landfall was near Rangiroa, where I donned fins and mask in search of parrot and angel fish in the lagoon. Paddling lazily around, I was surprised to see what looked like tiny pieces of laundry attached to miniature clotheslines. These were actually oyster shells hung this way to increase the maturation process that would lead to pearls. At the end of the voyage we shopped at fancy jewelry stores in Papeete, where some of these individual pearls cost $10,000.

At another Rangiroa location, I taxied to a popular diving site in a Boston whaler and jumped overboard to see the coral and the clownfish. I was completely frozen in place as our boatman jumped over too, chunks of fish on the end of his fishing spear. Within seconds he was surrounded by sharks, rays and even a barracuda. "Don t worry, Miss, they won't eat you if they can have fresh fish!" How do we really know that to be true?

On land, I looked up some girls I had met on a trip the year before, to give them some framed photographs. They were so flabbergasted to see me again that they hugged me and kissed me. Then, one of them disappeared while the other brought me to meet her teacher at the local school. The other girl caught up with us and presented me with an armload of colorful fabrics and shell necklaces. This is Tahitian hospitality!

WHAT IS THE FREIGHTER'S MISSION?

In the case of the Aranui, it is to supply the 7000 people of the six inhabited islands with all their material needs, including Spam and sofas, Cheeseballs and live chickens, plus pick-up trucks and the latest in t-shirt fashions from stores in the Pacific nation's capital. The ship makes the trip thirteen times a year, leaving from Papeete, and while in the islands, it collects Marquesas main product, copra, derived from all the coconuts that grow here.

Like travel on most other cargo ships, Aranui is great value for the money. Since freighters serve working ports, they visit little-known destinations, ones not necessarily served by cruising ships. You get to see people and ports of the world that time seems to have overlooked.

On the other hand, if you need entertainment on a nonstop basis, freighter travel might not work for you. Our first two days out, and last day and a half back were completely at sea, no stops, and traveling in rather rough seas. Many people got sick; yet, everyone said afterwards that it was worth it! (See Travel Tips for Seasickness Remedies)

-Updated 05-12-01-

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