20:21S 161:13W
Meryon.bridges
Mon 14 Jun 2010 19:27
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On our way to Tonga
The young Dutch couple who told us that Rarotonga
is their favourite Pacific island have a point. It is the largest in the
Cook Group of Islands, not that that is saying much, is strongly associated
with New Zealand and to a very limited extent with Australia. It is well
developed and tourism must be its greatest if not only earner. No doubt
many tourists, predominantly from New Zealand, go there because it is stunningly
beautiful and verdant. The people are for the most part delightful. The
island is well run, power and water work, rubbish is collected and so
on.
Rarotonga is only 32 kms around and all the
population of 13000 (but declining) is concentrated in a narrow belt around
the coast, this thanks to the London Missionary Society who turned up in 1823
and by 1840 had converted the lot, stopped the inter-tribal warfare which was
prevalent at that time and moved them out of the hills. Some would see this
as the destruction of an ancient culture which worshipped gods in the
hills, practiced sacrifice and so on but the islanders seem to have
embraced Christianity with a fervour. The Cook Islands Christian Church is
by far the biggest denomination and even has its own seminary in a wonderful
building on the outskirts of the capital. Alongside, the Catholics, with
their cathedral, the 7th day Adventists, the Church of
the Latter Day Saints and the Pentecostalists all seem to
be well supported. The missionaries took a pretty dim view of polynesian
dancing and so on, made the islanders tone it down a bit and put the men into
black trousers on Sundays. Thankfully the dancing restrictions have
been relaxed and today the girls wiggle wildly!
Monday was very quiet as everything was closed for
the Queen's Birthday (what a pleasure to see that she is so well respected in
the middle of the Pacific - a lesson for Blair and his ilk) with the
exception of the Palace Hamburger joint by the dock. On the recommendation
of a svelte girl from California we had "dinner" there, this being a burger
about 9 inches high with a mountain of chips. How she was svelte is a
mystery but how the south pacific islanders are as large as a house is
clear! Feeling somewhat stuffed we set off up the road to walk some of
this off and came across one of the most bizarre occupations you can imagine -
chicken fishing. The island is rife with chickens running loose - known as
free range. Apparently anyone can help himself to one whenever he likes
hence chicken fishing. This happens at night when the chickens are up a
tree roosting and involves the use of a long pole of perhaps 15ft with a noose
at the end and a torch. The noose is manoeuvred around the neck of the
chicken and hey presto. In fact this is much harder than it sounds.
We were told that the chickens are normally kept for egg laying but the one
this gang had caught just before we came across them was suspiciously
quiet.
We awoke to a buzzing dock and town on
Tuesday. For orientation we caught the hourly clockwise bus (the other bus
is the anticlockwise bus) and went all the way round, spotting the main tourist
centre at Mauri Beach and the main centres of population on the east side. The
Queen's Birthday had a serious effect on the High Tide restaurant, whence we
went for dinner that night only to be told that most of the menu was off because
the (NZ) cook was still drunkl! We moved on to the Raviz Indian for a
perfectly tolerable meal in the anglicised style and were amazed to find that
Philippe had never had a curry before - he is 54!
On Wednesday Peter and Meryon hired scooters and
explored the island, along the roads and tracks that the bus cannot reach whilst
Philippe hired a push bike. Thursday saw Meryon have a diving lesson,
Peter walk for miles and Philippe cycle.
On Friday evening Peter and Meryon went to what is
known as an Island Night at a place called Highland Paradise. This
was where some islanders had lived before the arrival of the mssionaries who had
forced them to the coast. In 1950 a far-seeing chap got hold of the land,
unearthed the royal burial ground and generally cleared about 200 acres.
He set it up as a place at which he could run educational tours to inform people
about the history of that area in particular and the Cook Islands in
general. The evening started with a most entertaining bus driver who
collected us and others and went on to a short walk and explanatory talk around
the area, this including the presentation of gifts to the gods at the burial
ground. Peter, having been selected as leader of our vaka (normally a team
or canoe crew but in this case those on our bus!) was one of those presenting
the gift, a woven basket of fruit. We then had the feast, far too much to
eat but very well done, sharing a table with a food scientist from Manchester
and his Indian/New Zealand wife who now live in Melbourne followed by
the show which was a description by music and dance of the history of the
island. The music is polynesian drumming and it is amazing (take note the
Royal Marines Corps of Drums) and the dancing by men and girls with lots of
wiggling - no missionaries there. As a team leader Peter had to take part
in a dancing competition against the 2 others - all a bit corny but it did not
detract from the fun of the evening. It was run by a splendid master of
ceremonies who, patting his very large tummy, declared that Cook Islanders live
to eat! Looking around the island this is most certainly true and it is a
mystery how the scooters can go up even the slightest slope with a Cook Islander
aboard.
On Saturday morning we did a little shopping at the
market which was extraordinarily vibrant and had everything from fruit and veg
to sarongs and jewellry including the ever present black pearls. Drummers
and dancers were of course at the centre of things, led by the excellent and
rotund master of ceremonies from Highland Paradise.
In the harbour we were joined during the week by 6
or 8 Blue Water Rally boats some of whom we have seen before so it was nice to
chat with them.
Rarotonga was a great success and should you
find yourself in New Zealand jump a plane to the island for a few
days.
We left at 1800 in a flat calm bound for Nuie, the
world's smallest independant state, and a flat calm it has remained ever
since which is somewhat frustrating. Even the current is against us.
It is hard to imagine an ocean being like a mirror and we hope that some wind
will fill in soon. We spent last night drifting to give us peace from
the noise of the engine and at 0700 a little wind arose and we are now
sailing slowly albeit not exactly towards Nuie. Hopes of a 5 day run are
unlikely to be realised at this rate.
Best wishes to
all.
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