[p]beale12.4
[s]
pos: 18 43.308s 174 06.093w
Date: 11/06/2017 08:00 gmt+12:00
Vava'u. Wow.
The last 4 days filled with so much intense doing nothing much that there was no time to update the blog.
Hunga Haven, an otherworldly ancient caldera eroded by millennia and festooned with deepest green jungle, punctuated by lithe coconut palms swaying in the ocean breeze. We four "real" boats, separated from the fleet, rafted up; exploring the delight of drunken dancing to loud 70's music on swaying boats and dinghies. Then completing the set with a blissful dive into 27 degree water to cool off.
Thursday morning, 8th June, and out through the narrow passage at half tide while there's still enough water over the reef. A scary moment when the depth reads 1.6m. We need 2.1 to float.
But no bump or thump, so on we go back out into deep water. Just a few hundred yards out to sea and already the water is hundreds of m deep.
Interlude: as I am writing this we are listening to the cruisernet on vhf, and the big topic this Sunday is the king's visit to Vava'u. But nobody knows when it will happen or where exactly or even why. Nevertheless they are beginning to clean up and decorate the villages. Charming.
Back to the narrative
The trip out of Hunga and around to the "big smoke" - the town of Neiafu, starts blissfully. Blue skies and the most amazing views of this truly extraordinary group of Islands.
But then the other side of tropical weather kicks in. Downpour. And that is too weak a word. Torrential, rain of biblical proportion. Visibility just a tiny bit above zero. Motoring into the busy port of neiafu, filled with hundreds of boats, and no idea where any of them are. Moorings for us to pick up. Somewhere. Just no idea where, can't even hear each other talk above the noise of the rain. Joanne gave up on the raincoat and just went forward, saturated in seconds, to seek a mooring. Just another entertaining challenge in the life of the cruising couple.
Eventually the rain cleared, but not before we had 3 inches (literally) in the base of the dinghy. Jo was smart enough to get a few bowls and buckets out and we captured quite a few litres of pure clean rainwater for drinking and laundry.
We cleared the interisland formalities in Neiafu, then roamed the town, with John feeling a mixture of rum-bug, man-flu, heat-stroke and troppo, and being generally useless. Ah well, we all have our off days.
We went into the Neiafu market to buy rather questionable vegetables at dramatically inflated prices, then some vinegar to spray them with to make sure no bugs came back onto the boat. Joanne worked like a slave in the sweaty post-downpour heat, washing vegetables in vinegar to clean them, chipping off the outside of pineapple and generally dealing with tropical shopping. Countdown or New World is a fantasy air-conditioned dream for jo perched on the back of an overheated boat bobbing in NeIafu harbour in 30degree heat and no wind, with a recumbent useless husband feeling sorry for himself in the front cabin.
Just getting a very small taste of third world problems amongst our first world luxuries!
That night the Lola, Riada and Mahia crews all went ashore to the Mango Bar for a local luxury dinner, but the crew of mighty Manutaki kept a low profile and ate simply on board.
The pineapple (one good one out of the two we purchased) was, however, superb. Sweet and juicy and finger-licking good. So all Jo's hard work did not go to waste!
A quiet night.
The lights of Neiafu are surprising. It is actually quite a big town, and for the first time since leaving Opua weeks ago we feel surrounded by civilisation. More than a hundred moored boats, a choice of multiple good restaurants, shops, bars, we even ordered 3 loaves of bread baked for us. We had sort of forgotten civilisation, but really did not miss it much. The dry ground felt wobbly, the town was stifling and a little sad. The air-conditioned Digicel office (buying a local SIM) was a highlight and a wry touch all at the same time.
Friday, and we head out of Neiafu to Port Maurelle, around the corner and what feels a million miles away. THIS is the classic Tonga picture-postcard-perfect scene. A shallow coral shelf, sand bottom with great holding, turquoise waters, palm trees all around, and black and white zebra fish dancing around the swim ladder on our yacht. This is exactly what we signed up for, and in no time at all we are doing very little, enjoying the beauty.
A snorkel ashore for John, Joanne practising her rowing in a straight-ish line. There's always the excuse of coral bommies that required her to go in semi-circles for a while.
And as I swim ashore we go from deep water (27 deg) to shallow water over the white coral shelf and the water temperature goes up to 30 at least. Idling along counting bright blue starfish, floating in a tepid bath.
Auckland in June feels a long way away.

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