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After approaching from the northeast we motored around the northwest point and down the west side of the island to the only town, Hanga Roa. An atypical north wind of ten knots was blowing, and large swells were breaking along the shore rendering the two anchorages near the town barely tenable. The one immediately off the town looked dangerous and uncomfortable so we started looking for the second one, using the GPS and the chart. We headed into an area that appeared to have nothing but rocks and breaking swells. Sonny, the Captain, and Ray, the First Mate were not in agreement as to exactly where we were and our "Book of Sailing Instructions" said that you need a local pilot to get into the second anchorage. I had asked whether we should turn on the radio in case somebody was trying to contact us but they were in a rather tense discussion at the time, and my question was ignored. We seemed to be heading into serious trouble when two Chilean Navy guys showed up in a 20-foot open boat powered by an outboard. They signaled emphatically that we should turn around immediately and get out of there. Then they led us back to the anchorage off the town, where they had us anchor outside the breakers in 51 feet of water. In their very limited English they told us that they had been trying to reach us on the radio, but nobody answered.

As the Chilean sailors were leaving, they told us to wait for the Port Captain to come out and clear us in through Customs and Immigration. Shortly after noon he showed up in that same boat, complete with an entourage of seven other guys, five of whom came aboard with him. They didn’t search anything, but had a thorough, well-defined process that they followed to the letter. They wanted a lot of information about the boat, its systems, the dinghy, the dinghy outboard, the radio, boat engine, EPIRB, and everything else imaginable. They said that they needed all this because if we got in trouble in Chilean waters, they would be responsible for doing the search and rescue and they knew that we intended to go to Cape Horn. They also told us that the second anchorage was very small and indeed, had no available room so we would have to stay anchored where we were.

Around 2:00 P.M. it was decided that Ray, Mark, Richard and I would go ashore and return by 7:00, at which time Sonny and Naomi would go. Given the exposed anchorages and changeable weather there, one of their rules is that somebody has to be on board at all times in case you need to move the boat on short notice. There is a third anchorage on the other side of the island off the oil terminal, several miles from town, where you can go if the weather becomes completely untenable.

Ray and Mark went first to reconnoiter and find the best route through the surf to get behind the small breakwater that protects the fishermen’s harbor. They have a small fleet of a dozen or so fishing and SCUBA diving boats, much like the boat that the navy uses. While waiting for the Port Captain we had noticed that the waves seemed to come in series, with brief lulls in between. We had seen a couple of fishing boats approach from the sea, slow down outside the breakers, and then gun their engines to get through during the lulls. With the limited power of our three-horsepower outboard, this would be a bit more difficult! We watched as Ray and Mark picked their way around and through the protruding rocks and breaking seas. It was exciting and spectacular to watch the aquamarine color of the waves as they built up and then crashed on the rocks, sending spray high into the air. We saw Ray and Mark head in between breakers, and a minute or two later, walk up the beach. They said later that they were only hit slightly by one wave. Ray came back and Richard and I went with him, experiencing a fun ride and landing without any problem.

We tried going to the bank but found that it had closed at 1:00; then went to the telephone company to make safe arrival calls back home. Then we walked down the shore to look at some statues along the way, and to check out the second anchorage. On the way, we spotted an Internet Café, where Ray and Richard stopped to check e-mail while Mark and I went looking for a beer. We found a place called Avarei Pua, across the street from the harbor. Business was slow, and we had a good conversation with our waitress, a very nice Polynesian lady named Erica, who wore a traditional sarong and a garland of flowers in her long black hair. A little later, Ray and Richard joined us there for dinner.

At 6:15 we started back to the boat so Sonny and Naomi could go ashore. About half way out, at the edge of the breakers, the outboard stopped for no apparent reason. Ray got it started right away but he is a little excitable, and put it in gear when it was revved up, breaking the shear pin. At that point there was nothing to do but paddle so we tried that; however none of those guys knew how to coordinate paddling--to dig in your paddle, synchronize your strokes, and so forth--so we didn’t make much progress. The paddling was so poor that we were almost turned around and were actually facing at an angle, back toward the beach when a big wave hit us just as it was starting to break. For a terrifying moment my mind saw flashes of us and the dinghy tumbling inside the wave as it slammed us onto the jagged rocks! As it turned out, no surfer ever caught a wave any better than we caught that one and it gave us a breathtaking thrill ride for a couple hundred yards, leaving us behind when it was about 50 feet from the beach! Although the dinghy didn’t flip, it was full of water and we were soaked and covered with sand but no real harm was done. We were all laughing like maniacs as we dragged the dinghy out of the water and the people on the beach, tourists and locals alike, seemed to really enjoy the show! We all were wearing life jackets and Richard’s got wet enough to activate the automatic inflator. He looked really comical, walking around with that thing sticking out like giant boobs! After we finally stopped laughing, Mark, Richard and I sat on the beach among our appreciative audience while Ray walked over to the Navy Station. They took him to the boat to get more shear pins.

While Ray was gone, the sun set and it started to get cold. We were shivering and grimy, and decided to spend the night ashore, concluding that it would be a very bad idea to make another run at the surf in the dark. Ray was a little reluctant since he was short of money but I told him I would pay for his share of the room, and he agreed. We went back to Avarei Pua because I thought maybe Erica could help us, and she did. I explained our situation to her, and without hesitation she immediately got on the phone, calling people she knew until she found a room for us; then called a taxi to take us there. Ray went back to the Navy Station and explained our plans to them. They sent a pick-up truck to get our dinghy and outboard, and stored them overnight for us.

The place that Erica found for us was at Guest House Cecelia, and Cecelia was waiting for us when we arrived. She showed us a room with three single beds and a private bath, and a second, small single room with a bath two doors down. Richard took the single. Cecelia then came back and took our wet sandy clothes, giving each of us a t-shirt and a towel to wrap around our bottoms. She also brought us cups and a pot of hot coffee, which we drank while sitting around a table out in the breezeway. An English couple, both doctors and on their honeymoon, were in the next room. It turned out that Mark had met them earlier while walking on the beach so they stopped to talk with us as they were going out for the evening. I couldn’t help wondering if they had any idea they were talking to four guys who were sitting there without any pants!

Cecelia’s is a bed and breakfast place, and the next morning she had us go to the dining room wearing those same outfits. It felt very strange but since it was her idea, we did it. By the time we finished our breakfast, our clothes were washed, dried, and ready to go. The whole thing cost us $25. U.S. each! As we were leaving Cecelia gave each of us hugs, and had her husband take her picture with us.

On December 26 we negotiated with our new friend Raul for a jeep tour of the island that lasted seven hours and included a cevice dinner afterward, for a price of $25.U.S. per person. The highlight of the tour was a visit to National Park Raraku, the volcano that was the site where the statues, or "Moais" were carved. We were overwhelmed as we stood at the base and looked up the side of the mountain where more than 100 Moais are scattered here and there with no apparent rhyme or reason. Some are upright, some tilted, and some on their faces or backs; many finished and others partially finished. Some are huge- maybe 20 feet tall and others not so huge; some "long ears" and some "short ears," some with adornments indicating a person of importance- kings and such; some with different head shapes or facial features. We were absolutely awestruck! Then, mingled with all this were some cows, just wandering around amid the Moais, and eating grass. There is an intense feeling of magic and mystery in the air all around the island, but especially at Raraku. I can’t adequately describe the feeling, but I have never felt anything comparable anywhere else that I have been. That particular place, and everything there, is the single most impressive thing that I have ever experienced.

The next day Mark and I ran into Cecelia and were delighted when she agreed to do our laundry for $10 each. We had heard stories of other places that were asking $5 per kilo, or about $20-25 for a bag of laundry. Afterward we had lunch at a place called Taveka, a block off the beach on Principal Street. I had a great seafood salad and two beers for less than $7. Our server was dressed and demonstrated the mannerisms of a woman, but had a lot of masculine features. These included the appearance of shaving every day, large, hairy hands, and a fairly deep voice. Also, the blouse left a small strip of stomach exposed and there was significant hair on the stomach. She had nice, long black hair that looked very feminine. Her skirt was floor length so I didn’t get a look at the legs. In any case, she was an interesting character who personified "class", and was a very good server. Ray brought the dinghy in to pick us up at 4:15 and we made it back through the surf without a significant incident- just went airborne over the top of one wave!

As we left Easter Island I couldn’t begin to describe the emotions I felt as I couldn’t stop looking at it fading in the distance. The profile to the left, from the southwest point, is that of a sperm whale and to the right you can imagine a huge Moai lying on its back. This one also has a mountain on the far right with a clump of trees on the very top making it look like this Moai has a pot-belly, complete with a belly-button. This seems interesting since Easter Island is sometimes called "the navel of the world". It is such a magical, mysterious, captivating place and I feel so very privileged to have experienced it. I will never forget the surfers and boogie-boarders in Hanga Roa Bay, the little kids, some naked, playing in the fishermen’s harbor along the tiny beach, people riding horses down Principal Street through the middle of town, the proprietor/server at Taveka Restaurant--I could go on and on! I’m very thankful that I had this opportunity, and that this place of legend and unsolvable mysteries and unexplained energy has so far exceeded my lofty expectations as to make them seem trivial.

Editor's Note: Charley Hester has just written a great book called Sailing With Strangers, available at Bluewater's store or online. To learn more about his voyage aboard the Sea Wolf III, you'll have to buy the book. You won't regret it!

Charley Hester is an experienced sailor and an avid fly fisherman. His article documenting his experience at Cape Horn was published in the July 2003 issue of Sail magazine. He lives with his wife Maureen and daughter Molly in Indiatlantic, Florida, and West Yellowstone, Montana.