WR in Tonga

Previously I wrote of the storm accompanying our arrival at Vava'u (three syllables, accent on the middle one). At that point Susan had been off the boat for two weeks, ever since WR left Rarotonga. So as we wound our way up the channels leading to Neiafu it was a delight to see Gembrit's dinghy heading our way with their crew and Susan. By law she couldn't come aboard until we were cleared, but soon we were tied to a Scottish boat, who in turn was tied to the wharf, and were boarded by four burly barefoot guys wearing skirts. These officials represented Agriculture, Health, Customs, and Immigration. After dealing with a number of forms they gave us permission to lower our Q (quarantine) flag, and we were checked in.

From Susan: I had more shore time than usual, waiting for Wind River to make the Rarotonga-Niue-Vava'u passage. Air New Zealand couldn't find a good way for me to fly between those three points, so my "passage" consisted of Rarotonga-Fiji-Tongatapu-Vava'u. Fiji seemed very different because of the large population of Indians there. I found Muslim mosques and Hindu temples, Indian foods, and shopping galore, with industrious Indian shopkeepers hyping wares, discounting everything from electronics to art. The Indians also lease land from the Fijians and grow sugar cane and other produce. The native population is a mixture of indigenous Fijians from Melanesia and Polynesia, and offer the usual handicrafts, including woodcarving and weaving. I took a tour of the area around Nadi to some old Fijian villages. I then flew to Tongatapu, the Tongan capital. I was able to see the harbor where we'll have to check in, and had a look at the city, which is about the size of Santa Rosa in the 70's. By the time I flew to Vava'u I was ready to settle in, and stayed at a backpackers' hotel overlooking the harbor where I had kitchen facilities. By the time Kit arrived I'd had people asking if I lived in Neiafu, my face had become so familiar to the populace! But I knew where the bakery was, what stores had which products, and what all the restaurants were like. I also lined up a massage therapist: my yoga instructor, Allyne, a sweet young thing from Quincy, CA, to give Kit a two-hour massage when he arrived!

Captain Cook called these the Friendly Islands and the people take this seriously: they are very friendly and helpful. At times as we walk along a street someone from a passing car will say hello. Many of the older people wear traditional dress, which consists of skirts of dark cloth covered by a wrapping of woven mat.

Vava'u consists of a maze of islands, channels, and coral reefs. Scattered about are various anchorages, which are numbered for easy reference. We left Neiafu and visited #11 where we had dinner at a Spanish restaurant on a nearby island and #8 where we attended a typical Tongan feast given for cruisers. We then returned to Neiafu. While there we dined out some more, visited the Mermaid (the quintessential South Seas bar) for happy hour with various other cruisers, and Susan took yoga classes. We also made arrangements with Paul, a sailor, jet engine mechanic, and baker, to join WR in Tongatapu for the passage to New Zealand. At Neiafu Karin left WR for a catamaran which was sailing for Fiji and points west.

Susan and I finally left Neiafu and stayed at #40 for three nights while we waited for the wind to shift out of the South. At 6 pm day before yesterday we left and sailed 80 miles under the full moon to the Ha'apai group of islands. We anchored here at Ha'afeva before noon and spent the afternoon catching up on sleep. Anchoring was a challenge, but we found a large patch of sand with no coral. We seem to be secure with the wind howling and rain spitting.

Kit and Susan

Notes on Niue

In our last installment we mentioned the coral limestone of Niue. The rain is filtered by this so that the waters surrounding the island are among the clearest in the world. Niue is an independent country, one of the smallest in the world. I have mentioned coconut crabs previously. Here they are endangered; only those that are too old to reproduce are allowed to be taken. I have seen some of these on leashes. They weigh as much as 22 lbs and with a claw can snip your finger off. On my last day on the island I rented a motor bike. I had never ridden anything like that, so initially the learning curve was a bit steep compounded by the fact that traffic keeps to the left. But I made a complete circuit of the island. At Rarotonga we saw some evidence of cyclone damage, but nothing like that on Niue. As I circled the island it seemed that ca 60% of the homes were damaged or razed, and abandoned. More Niueans live in NZ than in Niue. On the windward side of the island I hiked to Vaikona chasm and cave. This was a rough hike over a track that was at times obscure, involving scrambling over frothy coral limestone. The shore there consisted of a shelf above the water against which the waves crashed with water flooding over the shelf. A nightmare for anyone approaching in a boat. The next morning Karin and I set sail for Tonga, a distance of only 230 miles. This was directly down wind, so we had the genoa poled out on the spinnaker pole. I hate this arrangement: the boat rolls, stuff below crashes around, and the boat seems vulnerable. Initially the winds were strong and we made 146 miles in the first 24 hours. The sea was rough the whole way. By the second evening the winds were down to 12 kts, we were doing 4.5 kts and were intending to heave to off of Vava'u. At 2 am we were just N of that island when suddenly the wind came up out of nowhere. Our instruments said 35 kts and we later heard 45 or 50. The genoa was flailing about and the pole was flexing appallingly. We worked like demons trying to get it all put away. Then we hove to on the spot. I must say that even though conditions outside were ghastly, down below it was relatively quiet and I was able to sleep for a couple of hours, the first sleep since leaving Niue. The next morning we motored in to the harbor at Neiafu on Vava'u in the Kingdom of Tonga. That evening we were at the Mermaid, a bar on the waterfront, reunited with Susan, visiting with people some of whom we hadn't seen for months. The rain was dripping in through holes in the thatched roof, and there was a Tongan fire dancer performing. The contrast between the two consecutive nights is just another aspect of the cruising life.
Kit (and Susan)