Lying between the Society and Marquesas groups, the Tuamotu Archipelago is a huge arc of exclusively coral atolls. Atolls are formed by a ring of motus, small islets covered by coconut groves, some cultivated some left unattended. Depending on the sources, the archilepago comprises between 73 and 78 islands, out of which 30 are permanently inhabited, the rest supporting small populations limited by food, water and space. Unlike the Marquesas with their fertile volcanic soil, the Tuamotus endure a salty environment with poor sandy soil. Nothing much grows here apart from the coconut palm which is the key to life for the islanders. I found out how crucially so, while “stranded” off a motu in the atoll of Fakarava. Stranded is actually a strong word, let’s say that our wandering thru our Tuamotus led us to this remote anchorage called Hirifa at the bottom of the Fakarava atoll. Picture this: at the end of a sandy spit, protection from the swell and wind, long white beach backed by hundreds of coconut trees, crystal clear shallow waters to swim in…and a Paumotu couple welcoming us ashore in their newly opened snack-restaurant.
Meet Laiza and Toria. Toria He is a retired legionnaire. After serving in the French Military for nearly 20 years, he returned to his ancestral land to enjoy a quiet life, away from the horrors of war. Then he met Laiza. She comes from another atoll (Toau) where she ran a guest house for years. She moved to Fakarava, having left her guest house to her kids to run, and bored after a few months on the point, she decided to open a snack/restaurant catering for the passing boats (there is no road access). Between that, the production of copra, the tending of fishing traps and pig pens, she tells me they’re both busy enough to keep boredom away! They lack for nothing: solar panels and a generator service all their electrical needs, they shop weekly in Rotovoa ( an hour dinghy ride away), catch their own fish, brew their own beer (made out of sugar, yeast and coconut water) and watch TV via satellite. What more could you want?
We spent a whole week moored in front of their house, with the anchorage all to ourselves. Not only is it beautiful surrounding, but Laiza and Toria are terrific company. Her cooking is simple but delicious ( “made with lots of love”, she says). Depending on her customers tastes, she offers conventional plates of BBQ chicken and frites, steak and frites, fish and frites…or more traditional Paumotu fares like fish carpaccio, octopus curry or grilled lobsters. All for 2000CFP per person, except for the lobsters which cost between 3000 and 3500CFP. This also includes “amuses-bouches” (snacks) such as fish beignets (fritters), poisson cru or fougasse ( some kind of pizza base topped with cream, cheese, herbs and fish. Very yummy!) With Toria making sure there is plenty of cold beer in the fridge, we enjoyed wonderful hours of eating, drinking, whiling away the hours discussing world affairs, lobster hunting techniques, palm leaves weaving or even plain gossiping!
But the most memorable moments for me were spent following Laiza in the coconuteraie (coconut grove), picking up coconuts and learning all there is to know about them. Polynesians don’t climb up the trees. They poke a stick up to snatch the green nuts, and wait for the ripe ones to fall down. Green coconuts are good for drinking, providing around a litre of sweet, nourishing coconut water. Not only is it a delicious drink, but Paumotus also use it for medicinal purposes to settle stomachs, headaches, pour over insect bites and cuts as a disinfectant ( I tried it and indeed it burns just as much as alcohol does!). I was told that, had I used coconut water on my jelly fish stings straight away, I would have no scars. I wish I’d known. Then again, I would have needed to break a nut open, which I had no clue about until now. Paumotus use a sharp stick stuck in the ground. They drive in the coconut really hard to crack the outershell. It is then a matter of tearing out the rest of it along with the husk and expose the inner shell. This is cracked with a sharp knife along the line you want the nut to open ( the same way you’d tap open a coddled egg, except harder, using a machete instead of a butter knife!). The trick is to open it neatly to make the grating of the inside meat easy. If the nut is still young, the pulp inside can be soft and wet (like the white of a soft-boiled egg) and easy to scoop with a spoon. If the nut has turned brown already, the meat will be drier and requires some engineering to remove. Toria uses an electric coconut grater: it looks like a giant citrus juicer, affixed vertically to a wall, upon which they apply the half coconut. 30 seconds is all it takes to fill a large bowl with coconut meat that tastes like fairy floss! Laiza prefers to work manually, using an ana, some sort of small round serrated plate (in the old days, it used to a piece of coral or a half-shell) attached to a wooden board. She would sit on the board, the ana protruding between her legs, and she would grate away, turning the nut and collecting the meat in a recipient. Easy and just as fast! The grated pulp is then placed in a small cotton cloth, which Laiza twisted to extract the milk, one handful at a time. The pulp of 6 nuts yielded about 1 litre of milk, which I transferred into clean jars and promptly took back to the boat. I am storing the milk in the fridge, but was told to always let it come back to room temperature before use, since it hardens like wax when cold. Another trick is to never let it boil, as the oil then separates and you lose all the creaminess of the milk. When preparing warm dishes ( like stews or curries), better add it in the last minutes of cooking as you do with ordinary cream. I was fortunate to test all this theory for myself, tasting Laiza’s poisson cru and octopus curry. What can I say? It was amazing! And what about the grated pulp? After all the milk is extracted from it, Laiza’s doesn’t use it for cooking it any longer. She prefers to mix it with rice and fish and feed it to her pigs. Gives them a wonderful flavour she tells me. I bet!!! We did use some freshly grated coconut one day, to make coconut candy: sugar, butter, coconut. Can’t make it more simple than that, and it has become one of Anne’s favourite snacks!
I like to think that with my newly acquired skills, I will now use fresh coconut in my cooking. But I am under no illusions that the easy road will prevail and I will revert to the convenience of canned milk ( I can already hear Laiza scoffing “I would never serve canned stuff to my customers!”) Still, everytime I cook a curry, bake coconut bread or prepare poe I will be transported back to this little sand spit in Fakarava…
Coconut Candy
Makes 50-60 balls
Ingredients:
2 cups sugar
2 cups grated coconut
1 tbsp butter
1. In a large non-stick frypan, caramelise sugar and butter over medium heat (about 10 mn)
2. When mixture is brown and syrupy, turn the heat off, then add grated coconut. Stir until well combined, and let cool.
3. When cool enough to handle, roll into small balls, the size of a walnut. Laiza wraps them individually in candy paper, but I don’t bother, packing them in a container lined with parchment paper. They will keep in the fridge for 2-3 weks. The texture is quite soft and sticky, for a harder “caramelised” version, I am told to use less coconut ( I have not tried it yet, I can only eat so much sugar!)
4. Enjoy!
Poe
A popular Polynesian treat, poe is a mixture of mashed fruits and tapioca starch (also known as cassava or amidon de manioc in French). This recipe from Laiza uses banana but any fruits will be just as good ( mango, papaya, pumpkin, …)
Serves 4-6
Ingredients:
3 cups mashed bananas (use very ripe ones)
1 cup tapioca starch
1 tbsp sugar
2 cups coconut milk
Extra sugar to taste
1. Preheat oven to 150C
2. Stir together mashed bananas and tapioca starch until well combined
3. Transfer the mixture in an oiled baking pan (22x15cm) and bake for 45 mn.
4. Let the poe cool down, then cut into small squares.
5. Serve pieces in a small bowl, with lightly creamed coconut milk and sugar.
6. Enjoy!
*I like it as a dessert, my kids prefer it for breakfast!
People get up early in the Marquesas. Especially when it comes to cooking.
I found that out when we first arrived in Fatu Hiva and was told to report at 7am with final numbers of participants to a dinner show that same night. The ladies needed time to prepare the feast and have it ready for 6.30pm!
Having organised to trade for fresh produce the next day, I showed up with a bagful of cosmetics and some rope at what I thought was a relatively early time for a Sunday, 9.30am, only to find that my island counterpart had been waiting on the wharf since 8am with a wheelbarrow of tropical fruits and vegetables. Read More
After 3 weeks at sea, we landed in the Marquesas last month. This archipelago of 12 mountainous islands is as remote a destination as you get: 6000 klm west of the Galapagos and south of Hawaii, the closest neighboring islands are the Tuamotus, 1000 klm to the west.
The Marquesas were originally settled around 340BC by tribes coming from western Polynesia (Tonga-Samoa). These are believed to be descendants of austronesians who started their eastward migration from South East Asia about 7000 years ago, against currents and winds, bringing with them all they needed, fantastic navigators, warriors, cannibals,… They developed their own culture and presumably lived very happily (occasionally fighting and munching on each other), until the Europeans reached the archipelago in the 16th century. First the Spaniards, who landed in Hiva Oa in 1595, followed by British, French, Russian and Americans, as well as various whalers and traders. France took possession of the islands in 1842, but apparently the Marquesans, nearly decimated by diseases and fights , remained fierce warriors, resisting the rules and orders imposed by the occupant. In 1849, the French physically left the archipelago for Tahiti deciding it could not offer anything positive to the colony. The French still own the islands though, probably more for geopolitical reasons than anything else, and pour a fortune in them.
Bar 3 gendarmeries, 2 hospitals ( and countless small dispensaries in every village), 4 airfields and a tourism office, there is barely any sign of any economic activity beside copra ( the dried section of the coconut meat, valued for the coconut oil extracted from it). Island life revolves around the fortnightly arrival of the Aranui 3, a mixed cargo ship that brings supplies and passengers. The locals grow their own fruits and vegetables, catch their own fish, hunt for pigs and goats (or keep a couple in their garden) and generally spend their money on tin food from the small supermarkets. Hanavave on Fatu Hiva has one very small shop which sells basic items ( I reckon I have more choice on the boat) while Taiohae in Nuku Hiva has 2 grocery shops and a hardware store, each no bigger than an IGA store in an Australian suburb and storing a mix of French, Australian, NZ goods. Shopping is expensive, how anyone can afford to buy anything there is beyond me, but in dire circumstances I’m learning to buy whatever I need regardless of the cost. Below are our findings during one of our shopping expeditions:
80F = A$1, 120F=1 Euro
Beer 300F for 1 can
Soft drinks 270F for 1 can
French butter 1000F
NZ butter (in a can) 400F
Pringles 340F
Vodka 6900F!! a bottle
Wine 2100F (cheap no name brand)
Diesel fuel 100F per litre Duty free, 165F incl tax! ($2! Twice the Mexican price)
The only cheap items we found were bread (66F) and fruits & vegetables sold at the market or on the side of the road in Nuku Hiva, traded for cosmetics and a length of rope in Fatu Hiva. Luckily fish is free, as we catch it ourselves. But we’ll learn very quickly to be frugal with our supplies, and make the most of the natural abundance of fresh produce.
Our very first Marquesan culinary experience was a dinner cooked for us in Fatu Hiva: no sooner had we set foot ashore that the villagers approached us and invited us to a dinner and show at their community house for the next day. It turned out to be an initiative from the Fatu Hiva Mayor’s and tourism office, to welcome cruisers to the island. About 25 of us showed up and were treated to a Polynesian feast of coconut chicken, poisson cru, green papaya salad, breadfruit chips and boiled bananas (the latter an acquired taste!). When we all had full bellies, the local ladies invited us to the dance floor for a hips swinging lesson for us girls, and a knee twisting session for the boys. It actually was hard work, and we all wished we didn’t eat so much before, but oh what fun it was…especially when all the yachties in the room had been confined to the inside of their cockpit for weeks during the ocan passage and could finally shake these legs!!!
The coconut chicken was a hit among the crews, with the unusual use of papaya in the sauce. I could not resist, I went to Angela (one of the organisers) and asked for the recipe which she was happy to share with me. I’ve cooked the dish onboard a couple of times and we’ve enjoyed it so much I thought I’d spread the magic of the Marquesas by sharing the recipe with you all.
Angela’s chicken in coconut sauce
Serve 4
Ingredients:
1 kg chicken pieces
1 garlic clove, peeled and crushed
1 onion, peeled and sliced
1 knob of ginger, peeld and grated
1 can (400ml) coconut milk
1 medium sized papaya, semi ripe (still firm, green on the outside, pink/yellow inside), peeled and cut in 2.5 cm chunks
Salt and pepper to taste
1. Boil chicken in 4 cups of water (enough to cover) in a large pan. Simmer until just cooked. Remove from stock and set aside
2. Boil papaya in chicken stock.
3. Reduce chicken stock to 1/3, add onion, garlic, coconut milk, salt and pepper, and bring to the boil.
4. Add cooked chicken pieces and papaya, warm up for a few minutes, season to taste.
5. Serve with rice, sprinkled with green shallots.
6. Enjoy!
I hardly bake on land, but long days on passage, profusion of fruits and endless requests from the kids for baking cakes (one of Anne’s favourite school activities), mean that our sweets repertoire has steadily grown.
Here is a recipe for the most popular sweet on board. Anne and Marc request banana bread at least once a week, and I have found that other boat’s kids ( and some of the parents) can’t get enough of it. I am always happy to oblige only to use up all the bananas which have a habit of ripening at the same time.
I know every Australian home and nearly every boat make their own version of banana bread. This particular recipe has been my favourite for years, as you only need 1 egg and no butter, so can be put together with minimum ingredients and fuss !
The same recipe can be used to make muffins instead of a loaf, only bake for 20 mn then.
Banana Bread
Makes 1 large loaf
Ingredients :
1 ½ cup plain flour
½ cup sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon cinnamon powder
1 egg
1/3 cup sunflower oil (or any odourless oil)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
4 large ripe bananas (if small, double the quantity)
A handful of walnuts or pecan nuts (optional)
1. Mix together flour, baking powder, sugar, cinnamon in a large bowl.
2. Beat together egg, oil, vanilla extract in a small bowl.
3. Mash up the bananas, with a squeeze of lime if desired.
4. Make a well in the flour bowl, add the egg mixture and the bananas, fold in the flour. Mix until just combined, do not overmix or the bread will be too chewy.
5. Pour the batter in a large loaf pan (or a 6 muffins tin), and bake at 180 deg for 50 minutes (or 20 minutes for muffins).

Though we mostly cook from scratch onboard, I also keep a small amount of “convenience items”. I have a hidden stash of them: Hersheys chocolate bars, packets of Chicharonnes, smoked almonds, marshmallows…They’re what I call Happy Food because they remind us of friends and good times. I save them for special occasions, happy or sad. They help us celebrate a milestone or cheer up an otherwise ordinary day. The same way that ordering take away on land used to be a treat.
Day 4 of the passage from Panama to Marquesas was one of these days. The crew was in bad mood. Our captain was complaining about the lack of wind and fish, both totally unrelated conditions. The kids were hot and bothered, missed their friends, and claimed that they would not survive this 3 weeks passage! My urging them to take this opportunity to get ahead with their school work seemed to make things worse. So reading the signs, I switched gears and asked them if they’d like a Mexican lunch. Marc and Anne’s faces lit up at the prospect, Terry’s not so much but went along anyway (he probably thought his day could not get any worse!)
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