Fai Tira Blog Friday 25th June

Niue 19:03.32S 169:55.47W

 

 

It turned out that our estimated wind speeds for the first few days of the sail across were fairly accurate. However the last 24hours,of the journey, and in particular the last 18 were something else altogether, with wind speeds difficult to guess. However a later comparison of notes, with some of the other crews, indicated that some boats had registered up to 40 knots.

 

The period wasn’t  pleasant, turning out to be uncomfortable enough to draw comparisons with the now infamous Columbian Coast trip from Bonair. I have to say now, that it didn’t feel nearly that bad and also it lasted nowhere near as long. However it was still very demanding. Three people taking turns to hand steer a boat as heavy as Fai Tira through the night, in force 8 winds and very black surroundings as it broached down massive breaking swells at speeds of up to 9 knots, is a long way from enjoyable. It made most of us wish we were somewhere else, in my case tucked up in bed in Oxford would have been good!!!  It even had the effect, on some, of raising the question about the desire to go on. At about 5.30 am we approached the Southern tip of the low lying coastline. Hugging the shore, as we did, had the added effect of increasing the strain on our already stretched powers of concentration in the unrelenting conditions. Eventually we slipped into a remarkably calm bay and picked up a mooring buoy at about 10.30 am. We looked around at the other, peaceful looking, BWR boats, then at each other, permitted ourselves a brief smile,  patted each other on the back and exhaled a great sigh of relief!

 

 

 

That was the journey then!!

 

 

As I’d mentioned, we’d read a lot about this place and spent quite some time re-visiting the Niue promotional DVD issued by the Yacht Club. An establishment run by a remarkable and charismatic commodore called Keith Vial. His influence in the community is huge. He drives around in a decaying Mercedes ensuring that all the social wheels are well lubricated. He’s never sailed in his life and wants to keep it like that. The membership number on our, now proudly possessed optional, membership card is in excess of nine hundred thousand and all this from a sailing club without boats or resident sailors. To some extent that kind of sets the scene for the quirkiness of this place.

 

 

 

 

The DVD was beautifully produced and presented by a lovely Polynesian lady (some of the reason for our obsession with it). However what it couldn’t do, in spite of all the well intentioned hype, is totally prepare us for what was to come. The fabulous raised coral coastline, the beautiful walks through spectacular caves to secluded crystal clear pools, the fantastic snorkelling and most of all it couldn’t prepare us for the warmth and generosity of some of the friendliest people we’ve yet encountered.

The strange thing about this place is, there’s loads of dereliction as they continue to struggle with the aftermath of successive cyclones. It’s not difficult to come across areas of industrial waste and bits of rusting metal. The main town is dominated by an unattractive small shopping arcade and some of the first things that greet you as you disembark, on the quay side, are three dilapidated and redundant oil storage containers. However none of this matters. It’s full of real people without any pretentions surrounded by an abundance of natural beauty that they so obviously cherish and want to share.

 

The rules about clearing in are strict. It meant that Pete had to make an individual trip ashore to sort paperwork.

He arrived back, not too much later, having mastered the novel requirement of hoisting the dinghy onto the dockside courtesy of the static resident hoist; with arrangements in place for an evening meal and get together with some of the other crews.

However the first thing for all of us, was a trip to the Yacht Club. It turned out to be, in effect, a cafe and ice cream parlour (thought I’d died and gone to heaven)

Although overseen by The Commodore, it was run on a daily basis by the affable Jim and his delightful wife Mamata.

Jeremy and I decided to acquire the colourful and attractively presented drivers licence.  It meant a trip to the police station, quick pose for a photo and the payment of $12.50......Bargain!!

Before returning to the boat, Jeremy’s bicycle hire was organised for tomorrow and we were all proud possessors of Niue Yacht Club memberships.

The evening was spent at Joanna’s restaurant. Great simple inexpensive food served with humour in comfortable unassuming surroundings and for entertainment  Fia Tira led the way with the JPJ trio booming out a resounding Karaoke version of Neil Diamond’s Sweet Caroline. Once the bug had bitten, it took no time at all before the other crews were vying for the chance to display their talents......There weren’t any!!

 

That’s not strictly true. The lovely Carole off Bali Blue, turned out to have been a proper singer in another life......She was brilliant.

 

 

 

 

However hard I try to describe the appeal of this place, I’m bound to understate it. I suppose the problem is, to some extent, that all encompassing word charm. It’s the word that most typifies this place; and just has the hint of an emotional element lurking in the background that refuses to be packaged easily. The result is that the true, message can become diluted and elusive, sometimes making it difficult to convey. I expect that it means I’ll probably resort to all the old clichés and just keep my fingers crossed.

 

Three out of the four full days on the Island were spent largely travelling on two wheels. In my case it was always under my own steam, whilst on Thursday Pete and Jeremy resorted to a mode where internal combustion power rotated the back wheel. Pete ended up having his first ever ride on a 250cc motor bike and J on a 125cc they both got back nearly unscathed except for an exhaust burn on Pete’s leg. . By the end of the day I was beginning to think that theirs was the right choice.

 

 

 

 

Monday was to set a pattern that would stay with us. Ashore before 8.30am.

A cooked breakfast at the Yacht Club. A period hooked up to the internet, then off, but not very early.

We knew that there were lots to see and that frequent stops would have the effect of restricting our distance travelled, we just weren’t sure of the extent.

The coast road, that we were on, runs just inland and is separated from the drop to the sea by lush vegetation and rugged, often, razor sharp coral. Periodically, there is signed access via a roughly hewn, meandering path where startled tiny lizards scamper in all directions. We took one (path not the lizard). It eventually tumbled downwards, with the descent aided by strategically positioned ropes before diving into exotic caves full of startling formations where beautiful subtle colours dance off the walls in reflected sunlight. The effects are breathtakingly enchanting. Beyond the caves the treats continue. Out in the sunlight and in the shelter of a tiny inlet, nestling at the foot of steep rocks, with crashing waves just yards away, are sparkling clear, tranquil  coral pools. The warm inviting waters were just too hard to resist and the encumbrance of swim ware just too much of an imposition. We swam with banded sea snakes and a huge moray eel.

With many more tracks to explore, another pattern to our days was set!

 

 

We stumbled upon the Coral Garden Motel. It’s bar was out of beer, but sold great gin and tonics from a venue perched high on the coral overlooking a bay that’s sometimes full of spawning whales and for those who can’t resist, there’s the challenge of, a par 1, one hole golf course across the ravine to a white stick in the distance.

It became a favourite watering hole, where we spent quite some time chatting to the delightful manageress Salomi and gazing at the view.

 

The wonderful visits and experiences were numerous and all the time we were being treated to an overwhelming appreciative friendliness. Stop your bike on the side of the road and cars will pull over, with concerned people enquiring about your welfare. Walk any distance and before long you’d be offered a lift.

This is one of the world’s great diving sites and Pete managed to incorporate a reasonable number the last one as he put it “was an amazing cave dive” his first ever where he saw sea snakes intertwined and mating and the poisonous lion fish lurking in the dark.

It was during one of them that Jeremy and I decided to take ourselves off and explore some more, this time on foot.

We ended up attending the Primary School Sports Day, along with just about the whole population of the Island. If you wanted anything done on the day you’d just have to wait, everything came to a standstill.......What a great sense of priorities!!

 

We returned to the school later to watch a rehearsal of traditional dancing as practise for a forthcoming competition. It was attended by young and old. It was a rhythmical, passionate, noisy and hugely entertaining spectacle performed to the beat of two cross legged seated drummers, one hitting a carved log with some sticks, the other doing the same with a beaten up tin can.....Brilliant.

 

Between these visits, we ventured into the breathtaking, slightly scary garden of Jeff Jaffarian at reclamation reef. His house and garden were destroyed by the recent cyclone. His rebuilding has incorporated a series of interlocking, narrow decked walkways that drop down across peaks and valleys of jagged coral to a distant viewing platform of table and chairs perched precariously on a pinnacle overlooking the bay. We sat and watched a distant whale before joining Jeff, a complete stranger, for the next forty five minutes in his house for a chat over a beer......Priceless.

 

 

 

Sadly we’ve left now. If the Pacific were a crown, then Niue would be one of the most prominent jewels.

 

 

If Tonga turns out to be even half as good, we’ll be pleased.

 

That’ll take some doing!!!!