Samoa to Fiji via Tonga

True Blue 1
Robin and Suzie Roots
Tue 6 Aug 2013 21:26

Samoa to Tonga and On to Fiji

The Kingdom of Tonga, here we come….. against the wind

Out into the harbour and through the breakwater we set the sails to catch the wind to Tonga. Wind, what wind? On with the trusty iron Genoa and off we tootled for some hours before the promised south easterly started with gusto. We then sailed close hauled all the way, but “Hero Huey the Hydrovane” again did us proud so that the 360 mile passage was no effort.

18:39S 173:58W

Tonga - Bureaucracy on a scooter

Once we reached  Neiafu harbour we tied up at the fishing dock and waited for the officials. First to arrive was the Quarantine guy (where was Health?). Mr Q was jovial and smiling and his formalities took all of 10 minutes. He then spent the next hour polishing off the remains of Carol’s Christmas cake that Robin had jealously guarded for our final passage and drank a litre of juice whilst telling us how Australia was beaten in the Rugby by the UK.

Next we had Mad Max the Customs guy, resplendent in a hard yellow hat and riding his son’s electric scooter. He clumped aboard in work boots, threatening to bend a stanchion as he used it as a step and proceeded to demand a bottle of wine as a “present”. It’s been a while since we have had “baksheesh” demanded of us but we had an el cheapo cardboard box left over from Panama so we gave him that which satisfied his greed. We found out later that this customs official makes this demand of all the yachts.

The health guy did not show at all (?watching rugby?)and the customs man told us to give him the required $100 and he would pass it on. We complied but we were a bit uneasy about this as no receipt was given. The immigration guy told us to go and see him the next day, so we left the fishing dock and took a mooring off the Aquarium Café.

Neiafu town mooring Tongaclip_image002

Promptly at 0900 we fronted the immigration fella and he tried hard not to crack a smile and made us indulge in a storm of paperwork; however, in the end he succumbed to the skipper’s jesting and her koalas, and stamped us into Tonga for 30 days.

It was Saturday markets – the best of the week we were told, so we stocked up with fresh greens and tomatoes etc. The village is built around yacht and backpacker tourism with no grand resorts but surprisingly we found a café for a cappuccino and latte a la western style. The people once again were extremely friendly, happy and the young people well-mannered and well-dressed apart from shoes which seem to be the universal thongs. All of the girls had immaculately braided hair and wore their school uniforms with pride; what a change from more ‘modern’ countries!

The market – Baskets and Bits

The market is packed with local produce and local handicraft. We were taken with a particular carver’s work and bought a couple of inexpensive cow-bone necklaces of traditional whale tooth motifs. There were dozens of wickerwork baskets and bowls available at very little cost and the work was excellent; Suzie could not resist the engaging smiles of the vendors and hey presto a few more items were added to True Blue’s hold.

The outcome of these impulsive purchases was a journey to the Agriculture office on the day of check-out. Because Australia is so pernickety about Biosecurity we wanted to be sure we did not have our goods confiscated on arrival. The Tongan Agricultural inspector was most helpful and gave us instructions as to what to do to obtain an Official Certificate. ‘Go to the store, buy some black top Mortein and a large black plastic bag, put in all the items and spray vigorously. Tie up the bag and, hey presto, I will check and confirm that the baskets and wood items are treated.’  Of course we complied whilst the inspector watched and  many ‘stamp stamps later’ our goods were approved and an official certificate issued, stating that all times were treated and all bugs (if any) were ‘mort’. Hopefully our treasures will now pass the beady eyes of the Australian Bio-security folk.

Who needs a travel lift?

Down on the wharf there is much excitement as the supply ship/ferry is arriving. This is a weekly event (assuming good weather) and the whole town turns out. There is a traffic jam at the wharf and people start arriving in the early hours, jostling for the best position. Most were dressed in traditional costume (woven pandanus palm skirts and Tapa cloth dresses).

 

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At the other end of the dock the fishermen had finished painting a fishing boat and are about to launch it. The rail carriage is being used by an Englishman of less that even temperament so the locals shift the fishing boat the way they always have –with wooden rollers and plentiful manpower. The Englishman, in high dungeon, tries to enlist the support of the local policeman to halt the process. The policeman surveyed the scene, talked to the fishermen and carefully eyeballed the distance between the Englishman’s trimaran and the wall. ‘Go ahead’ he proclaimed.  The Englishman is incensed and remonstrates with the policeman who turns to him and in a loud voice that all could hear, says “F….  off”. Sensing a full-blown incident, all ears and eyes are riveted on the policeman and the Englishman, but disappointingly for most, things fizzle out and the Englishman skulks off.

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Steadying the boat for the final shove into the water

The process begins, and with much good humour, shouting and grunting, the fishing boat is manoeuvred and finally launched, to the delight of the small crowd. The Englishman’s catamaran is unscathed….all hot air!

clip_image008                    In she goes

 

 

A Tongan Feast

No visit to Tonga is complete without experiencing a traditional feast. We were picked up by local boat from the Neiafu jetty where we were enjoying a glass of red wine as the sun set. After a short journey by boat, we arrived at another nearby island where we were met by the elders, flowers put into our hair and music was played to sooth our souls.

clip_image010     A glass on the dock as the sun sets

 

clip_image012                   Part of the welcome committee

Our hostess took us to show the village crafts. We watched them being made by the older women, and were told (and shown) how the coconut palm and its fruit had so many uses.

clip_image014                 Suzie and our hostess in front of the village crafts

 

The lady who organised the feast explained that she recently returned to her parent’s home after living for some years in America. She has subsequently renovated the house and introduced the feasts so that the village can be involved in a commercial enterprise and thereby raise funds for their children’s education, whilst still retaining their traditional ways. The venture has been a great success and now all the villagers can see a real advantage of preserving their culture for posterity whilst obtaining hard currency.

Soon it was time for the traditional Kava ceremony of welcome. We all sat cross legged on huge Tapa mats. First we were shown how the mats were made from the stem of a particular tree, bashed out to very thin paper like substance by wooden mallets.

clip_image016                 Making Tapa mats

 

Then we watched the kava being made by the “princess” of the village and the ceremony explained. It is a very important, sombre and stylized event with a particular process of clapping cupped hands.

clip_image018                    The village princess (a young virgin) prepares the kava root for drinking

 The kava is drunk in a single gulp (tastes a bit like dishwater), the cup returned, hands clapped and the drinker returns to his/her seat. Feet must not protrude forward of the body as this is considered bad manners.

 

clip_image020         Robin, in the approved fashion, downs his kava in one gulp.

Following the kava ceremony and a blessing by the village minister, we enjoyed a delicious Tongan meal  and were then entertained by the various age groups of the village with traditional songs and dances. Some presentations were by children as young as 5; youths in their early teens also participated with great energy and of course the adults had their turn. Regardless of age or gender, the joy and concentration in the eyes of all the performers was quite remarkable.

 

clip_image022            One of the younger members of the village dancing for us (5 yrs old)

clip_image024 Another beautiful maiden (9yrs old)

Finally, the evening ended and we were transported back to Neiafu town. It had been a wonderful experience. The dancers, cooks and artisans, all coming from the same small village of some 60 souls, all seemed so genuine in their wish to make our visit pleasurable that we felt, as so often in the Pacific, privileged to be there as guests. And the spontaneous 4 part harmony of the villagers singing as we departed was a final treat.

clip_image026 The music makers and village minister.

 

 

Anchoring by numbers

All the anchorages in the Vava’u group of Tonga are numbered by the Moorings Charter Company, so no-one gets lost ….the Tongan names are quite unpronounceable!

We set off the next day for anchorage number 7, and found an idyllic bay; clean sand backed by swaying coconut palms and a small village ashore. Sadly though, as we settled down for a celebratory drink, the rain started ……and it sheeted down all night! Not able to snorkel the next  day we returned to Neiafu in driving rain…………. and this was to be our lot for the next week!

 

clip_image028                      Not all beer and skittles

We were secure in Neiafu harbour, however, so it was a very social week in the yachty hang – outs, (the Aquarium and Tropicana cafés)  in-between exploring the small township and its back streets.

‘Never leave on a Friday’                                 

You would think we would have learnt this after ten years. As the time came for us to depart the Kingdom of Tonga– (the skipper was getting anxious about what had to be done and where we had to get to in the next few weeks) – we started studying the weather reports and grib files. It was obvious that the weather was not good for the next week but feeling perverse we checked out on a Friday. First up, pay the Port dues up the back street in the Machinery shed. Then Immigration – ‘what, leaving so soon? Oops I forgot to stamp you in Ms Suzie - oh never mind I’ll stamp you out’, and finally Customs - no wine request this time as the boss did the job.

We set off into the teeth of a SW wind; sheeting rain and in no time we were cold, wet as never before, and tacking. Tacking?... we don’t tack, heading west it’s the trade winds from the SE Môn. Needless to say we were not happy chappies, and eventually we saw the light and returned to a gloriously snug anchorage (Number 8!)  having sailed a fruitless 20 miles out to sea in revolting conditions which included, to boot, a thunderstorm and rain white-out!! It took several slugs of “mother’s ruin” to restore our sense of equilibrium that particular Friday night!!

 

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Illegals

Technically, we had checked out of Tonga so we were in the country illegally – sure jail had we been in the Oz. So what to do? All our Tongan dingbats were spent, and to check back into Tonga would be tedious, involving long explanations. So we pulled our heads in and sat in a beautiful anchorage waiting for better weather. There we swam amongst the coral and the fish and ended up having a delightful but illegal week in a couple of lovely spots. Several other yachts provided a good social life, so we were happy campers once again.

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Blue skies and lovely swimming at last (illegal view)

clip_image032         Neighbours in paradise

 We took some gifts ashore to the local village school and were welcomed by the chief, who offered us fruit in return. He was feeling very pleased as the 26 folk of the village had just received a grant to put in septic toilets and get rid of the “Long Drops”clip_image034 The Village chief (the one in the red shirt)

 Other yachts have left a Singer sewing machine behind, now a sculptural feature of Lape. clip_image036          Tailoring on the beach?

A week later, the winds turned to the ESE and we set off for Fiji, along  with a number of other yachts. It turned out to be a fabulous passage and three days and 469 days later we dropped the hook in Suva, the capital of Fiji.

 

 

Fiji      18:07S 178:25E

28 July: Suva

Arriving late in the afternoon, we could not check in unless we paid a humungous overtime fee, so we anchored off the Royal Suva Yacht Club who attended to the organisation of the officials. We were anchored in the harbour surrounded by ships of various sizes, including one that was sunk and very close if the wind swung the wrong way.

clip_image038    This lot on one side, and

clip_image040 This sunken hazard on the other

The Health guy arrived at 1230 and went through his rigmarole (‘do we have rats on board, did anyone die on passage etc’ ?); the skipper needed a strong will not to give a facetious reply to the latter. Eventually, not finding any problems, (?disappointed face?) he said we could now take down the yellow flag which would be the signal for Customs, Immigration and  Bio-Security personnel to visit.

They didn’t. And then it rained. And rained! Next a plaintiff call from the Yacht Club “could we all come in to complete formalities’ – the officials did not want to get wet!  In we traipsed, 3 yacht crews in all.  We completed the Bio-security forms, went through the customs check (What no stowaways, no alcohol, meat, veggies etc ?) and were duly stamped in.  The Bio security lady simply wrote on our form “all food on board consumed”. Who is she kidding; we still have enough victuals on board to start a small grocery store!

It was so casual that the Customs man forgot to ask for the last port clearance document until Robin reminded him. We were then free (after a couple of koalas) to go, so we decided to walk the 3 km to town to stretch our legs.  Not a good decision, as within a few hundred meters we were soaked to the skin. Oh well, what gets wet will dry eventually!

clip_image042 Not ‘singing in the rain’ but ‘swinging in the rain!’

Suva is a bustling hotchpotch of cultures and peoples, giving the city an energy and vitality all of its’ own.

The ethnic mix of native Fijian and Indians is very evident – the latter controlling all forms of commerce. The Indians, originating from indentured stock in the days of labour shortages for the sugar industry, now have rights almost equivalent to the Fijians, but the history of inequality and lack of land ownership for the Indians continues to lead to tensions. Clothing and electrical goods are cheap in Fiji so a couple of brightly coloured “bula” shirts for Robin were ordered from the Indian tailor. The vegetable market was huge with a wonderful array of familiar and not-so-familiar Pacific fruits and vegetables on display. Numerous shops displayed elaborate saris and  beautiful and ornate clothes for the Indian market; we would not have been surprised to see sacred cows wandering across the road.

An early excursion was to the Native Affairs Board for our Cruising Permit. This office is out of Suva town and next to the President’s palace and gardens, past the remains of the glorious colonial buildings and gardens. Then we had to return to customs to get our last form signed and receive a lecture on ensuring we ‘checked in’ every Friday. “Yes Sir” said the stand-in captain saluting with a koala which was hurriedly whisked out of sight. The officialdom ordeal, which lasted some two days, was finally over!

As we wandered the town, Suzie’s tooth, which had broken twice previously, (despite dentist Robin having filled it with epoxy in a vain attempt to get it home), was starting to throb. More expert help was obviously needed!

As luck would have it, Suva has a dentist of reputation, trained in Australia and with the latest German equipment for making a crown on a same-day service. An appointment was made for next week and Suzie started taking antibiotics to ward of any infection. We decided she would come back to Suva  from Western Fiji by bus; in the meantime we would explore a little more of Fiji. In her research, Suzie had discovered a secure anchorage at a place called Robinson Crusoe Island so that was where we headed.

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Robinson Crusoe Island (not quite the Treasure Island story)

Leaving Suva, we motor sailed in very light winds 70 miles overnight to Robinson Crusoe Island eco-resort. This is on an idyllic island which unlike many such resorts welcomes yachts. For a $1-00 fee we joined the Robinson Crusoe club, and were then we given free access to the island, the events and the facilities. The resort is owned by an Australian couple who we (they and us) both recalled from our time on the Gold Coast!  A small world.

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Our first afternoon was spent lazing in the sun and enjoying a lunch provided by the resort.

clip_image046 The skipper is working too hard!

The next evening was the resort’s major show so we lined up for our dinner and settled back to watch the proceedings. It started with a kava ceremony, except in Fiji it is the province of the men, not the women as in Tonga. This was followed by a fire dance, after which we proceeded to the cooking pit where the young men walked on the hot coals. Despite investigations by the British Medical Association to date no-one has been able to determine what prevents the participants having the soles of their feet literally crisped to a cinder! They wear no shoes, no invisible’ foot coverings, no creams are on the flesh, and the coals are red-hot as evidenced by the hissing steam when a glass of water is thrown on them immediately after the fire dancers have strolled across. Another of life’s little mysteries!

clip_image048            The kava ceremony

clip_image050            Exposing the pig

clip_image052  Walking the red-hot coals; how do they do it?

clip_image054         The flame throwers

 

Next came a whole variety of dancing by the men and women of the village. The men were particularly skilled, and their war dance with fire sticks reminiscence of the Maori haka. The show was slanted to the tourist market and very different from the Heivas of French Polynesia or Tongan feast, which were less commercial and more a celebration of the local culture. Nevertheless, the evening at Robinson Crusoe provided a great night’s entertainment.

Tomorrow  we set sail for Vuda Point marina, the cyclone hole of Fiji, so Suzie can bus it to the dentist in Suva.

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From this (Robinson Crusoe anchorage) to:

 

 

This: Vuda Point Marinaclip_image058

 

06 August

Arrangements were quickly made for a taxi pick up at 0730 to take Suzie to Loutaka to catch the early bus to Suva – some 5 hours;  a smiling Mohammed arrived bang on time. Another Mohammed; our journey round the world was full of them!  Off she went leaving a “to do list” with Robin that a camel could not hump.

The next day the Skipper returned somewhat crestfallen; the tooth was not capable of being crowned, as it was too far gone and even with all his whizz-bang equipment, the best the dentist could do is to put another large filling in and see how that lasts before a bridge procedure is undertaken. Apparently this firstly requires a tooth extraction, then a pause of 6 months (to allow the gums etc to shrink) and finally the shaping and installation of a bridge. Not having  a spare 6 months to stay in Fiji, Suzie regretfully settled for the quick solution, hoping that the new filling will in fact last many years.  

What next? Nothing to do for Suzie but to meet friends from Chaotic Harmony at the Royal Suva Yacht club (remember, we do have a month’s membership) and have a meal. Alas, it’s Monday and the place is like a morgue; the kitchen shuts on Mondays. So for Suzie it was a quick trot back to the town and a sandwich at, of all places, the Gloria Jean coffee shop.

Next we are off to Musket Cove anchorage. This is the oldest resort in Fiji and has always been “Yachtie friendly”. Established over 26 years ago by Australian business man Dick Smith it has become an icon in the yachting world and all try to visit at least once in their yachting lifetime. Sadly Dick passed away last year, but has left many legacies both here and in the Australia culture, including the replacement for Australian Vegemite and other traditional foods which were ”stolen” (taken over) by the American food giants.

From Musket Cove we will proceed to Loutaka to check out of Fiji for Vanuatu. More on this in our next blog