One of the highlights of our journey is without a doubt, our time spent at these most Northern islands of Tonga. Closer to Western Samoa than it’s own capital, and made up of a group of 3 islands, one an extinct volcano, we are now in one of the most remote and isolated villages we will visit in all our adventures. The plane comes once every 3 weeks, if you’re lucky. The last once hasn’t been for months. Last October, 2009, minutes after an earth tremor in Samoa, a tsunami wrapped around the volcano island and ripped across the tip of the main island completely devastating everything in it’s path. The other end of the island where one of the three villages is located and incidentally where Captain Cook came ashore was the worst hit. The wave tore through anihilating stone buildings and sweeping away huts like toys in a storm water drain. Residents had only 15 minutes warning before the wave hit and ran for the hills. Sadly nine people didn’t make it. We were the first visitors to the island since that day.
Arriving on a Sunday we were once again treated to the beautiful singing voices in Church. Now we have become accustomed to the ways of the Tongans we showed respect by taking it easy on the boats and not showing too many outward displays of “working”. Scrubbing the salt off the decks will have to wait for another day! The anchorage lies within a lagoon and a welcome relief after the overnight sail and a tricky entrance. We spotted turtles and the water was a beautiful milky turquoise.
When Captain Cook named Tonga the “Friendly Islands” he must have been referring to these people. Over the next few days we were treated to the warmest and generous hospitality you can ever imagine.
Bundled into twin cab utes we were driven down a beautiful new, wide dirt road that now connected all three villages within a few minutes instead of 40. The Government Representative who addressed us said they called it the “welcome tsunami” for before the Aid from the Australian Government and the help from the Army life was a little tougher and they never dreamed they would have a road quite as good. As we drove along we listened to stories about the morning the villages were woken from their sleep and rushed to higher ground. As I look out through the coconut trees to a sparkling blue lagoon we learn that before the tsunami you couldn’t see 5ft into the dense undergrowth and that the wave literally cleaned out all that lay in it’s path. It was mostly government housing that was destroyed. Close to shore and on the cleared, flat level ground they were right in the path of the wave’s destruction. Slabs of concrete lay as a reminder that once buildings stood in their place. The old hospital has an eerie feeling and we hear how the waves lapped at the coral fence surrounding the church. At its furtherest reaches the tsunami travelled a good 6-700m into the village…
Later that afternoon we ride in the backs of trucks to the high school where we will be treated to a “Welcome Feast”. As we drive up the track a game of Rugby plays out its final minutes. Crowding the sidelines kids taunt and cheer the teams.
The evening begins with a welcome and a thank you… to us! The people are so grateful that we have come to visit them. They present each and every one of us with a beautiful lei handmade with local scented and colourful flowers and foliage. The mood is electric and emotionally charged.
In this community it is the women who are the breadwinners. The men of course work, toiling the plantations and fishing. But it is the women who produce the finest and most sort after handicrafts in all of Tonga. They show us the plants they use and explain the processes involved in harvesting and bleaching the pandanas, wild hibiscus and tiny seashells to produce beautiful woven mats and the traditional wedding attire. Their work is exquisite.
The young boys from the villages show us their unique warrior dance and they are good. The percussion is another boy just outside the doors beating on a sheet of gal iron with a big stick. Loud and effective!
Sadly the ladies have been working too hard and are so tired they won’t be able to show us some of their dancing tonight however one spirited gal keeps us entertained as she whoops and slaps her ankles enthralling us as she wafts around the room with a gappy smile and twinkle in her eye.
Dinner is served buffet style on a piece of banana tree trunk complete with notches carved into the ends for decoration. Deep fried fish (whole), freshly grated coconut, octopus, sea cucumber, beads of salty bursting seaweed, corn on the cob, island cabbage and of course taro and pig if you care for it. Fresh drinking coconut and the meal is complete.
We are speechless and grinning from ear to ear. I make up my mind to do something to help the communities on this island. That night we have the best sleep ever…
The following day Duncan takes care of Darcy & Seisia while I go for a trek up to the top of the mountain. What starts out as a quick up and down to take in the view turns into a 5 hour hike sometimes on hands and knees grasping for tree roots and vines to abseiling down rock faces and balancing on precipices from one end of the mountain to the other. It was fantastic! The view to the far side was amazing with a line of surf breakers and the sapphire sea, and the view back to the lagoon and out to the volcano island was breathtaking. Friendships were forged, skin was lost and drinking coconuts quenched our thirsts on an unforgettable adventure. I smiled to myself at one of our guides who did the whole trek in a pair of white rubber thongs! We descended into the village plantations on the back of the mountain and walk back along a dusty road. We pass the new block building which houses the tsunami warning centre and Anna our guide shares some sugarcane with me. We stop by her house. It is neat and tidy with a pig and a dog. Later we all swim in the spring fed pools in the crystal clear cool water. Little fish suck on our cuts. It’s another meaningful day to remember.
A walk to the far side of the island to go beachcombing and looking for shells turns out windy and lonely. Small coral pieces lie tumbled into piles and we don’t find many shells intact. There is plenty of flotsam and jetsam washed up on the beach. A cyclone earlier this year wrecked havoc on this side of the island. The wave this time penetrates the bush a 100m or so. It hardly seems fair but it is a reminder of the power of nature and a good lesson to take the forecast and passage planning seriously!
As a way to repay these people for their kindness and hospitality we arrange to hold a BBQ on the beach of the small motu on the edge of the lagoon late one afternoon. We all prepare salads and bake a cake as it is these little treats that we know they go without. When we arrive we are all totally flabbergasted again by the ever smiling willing workers who have spent the day fishing and preparing a pig for an Umu (like a hungi), sitting on mats, weaving baskets and happy they welcome us to our “Thank You BBQ”… It is a fun afternoon. We manage to give them a few laughs by auctioning off some hermit crabs and then racing them amongst the crews. The winnings we give to the head of the Women’s guild. Hopefully they can buy a sewing machine or new stove for their teaching centre. Guitars are produced and this time it is our “heavenly” voices singing the Beach Boys “John B Sloop”. The words really hit me as I realise that none of us really want to go home at all… These people seem to have the least, in worldly possessions anyway, but in other ways they have the most… The cakes are devoured but mine hasn’t been iced yet as it was fresh out of the oven so the icing is licked out of the bowl on sticky brown fingers into wide grinning faces.
Darcy and Seisia are having a good time around the point building a shelter and a bonfire. I walk through the palms to see them and again am reminded of the force of the wave as trees lie uprooted, the dry debris spread out and in some places tumbled on top of each other making a wall of dead branches.
The sun is setting and it’s time to get back before dark. Boats are loaded and we all make a dash for home. Racing and laughing we all get splashed from the chop blowing up. A local boat gives us some coconuts again to thank us for such a fun time?! It is sad to leave. We have felt honoured to have spent the few days here with these humble people.
No comments:
Post a Comment