Flight to Nuku Hiva

9. November 2011, Wednesday
8° 54' 11" S, 140° 5' 48" W

After 4 hours flight time I reach Nuku Hiva, the island where the horrible crime against Stefan happened that shocked the world.
I want to sail the Baju to Tahiti together with Hannes from the Pukuri and Stefan's father Erwin.
The small, run-down airport can only be reached via a dusty gravel road that leads through mountains and jungle and can only be mastered with an off-road vehicle.
After almost 2 hours of bumpy cruising, I see the Baju anchored in the vast bay of Taiohae as if nothing had ever happened.
The whole time I was thinking how it will be when I meet Stefan's father, who I've also known for a few years.
How should I meet him in his grief for his son?
How does it break a man whose child dies in such a cruel way?
When I face him, he hangs a wreath of flowers around my neck, hugs me and talks.
He talks and talks without stopping.
I guess it's his way of dealing with the grief!
Well, I'd rather that than spend my days at sea with a totally broken man.
But we're still here.
The government is providing us with a guest house for the duration of our stay, because we are not allowed to leave yet.
In a strange way, an illegal revolver has suddenly appeared on the Baju, the origin of which the public prosecutor wants to know.
That's fine, too, let's use the time to get the Baju ready to travel.
We constantly encounter French special units. Heavily armed boys, lone fighters, in search of the alleged murderer Henri Haiti.
His father asks Stefan's father to meet him.
He would like to get to know him, to share with him the pain that his son Henri brought to the two families, Heike and the people here in the Marquesas.
I am strangely shocked to see the man who seems to have the strength of a bear crying so broken and helpless.
With tears in his eyes, he presses Erwin to his heart, trying to find answers about what happened. He seems so terribly helpless in his pain. I almost burst into tears with so much desperation. I had never thought about how a perpetrator's family would fare in a case like this.

Finally we get permission to drop anchor.
The Baju sets course towards Tahiti and everyday life on board begins.
The Pacific shows its gentle side, too gentle! The wind dies down and we have to start the engine to eventually arrive. The old diesel rattles unbearably loud, so that conversations fall silent and everyone dwells on their thoughts. (If the noise allows it.)
course change!
Our fuel is running out and we have to go to an atoll in the Tuamotus where you can buy diesel.
Class!!! After hauling canisters forever, the wind picks up and we can sail again.
Baju is now anchored in Tahiti and is up for sale.
The abrupt end of a dream.