Voyage

Yachting

Voyage to Tonga

Text and photography

by Sally Andrew

A voyage from New Zealand to Tonga is fraught with high winds and danger. This year’s passage lived up to its reputation. With winds to 40 knots most of the way to Nuku’alofa, we could carry little more than a triple-reefed main and storm jib. But by keeping our sail area small, Fellowship rode comfort ably over three-metre swells.

On passage, we always keep a good lookout, though it’s pretty scary to stand in the cockpit as the boat rolls and lurches violently from side to side, snaking down the fronts of breaking waves, with a twist and a kick at the bottom. A safety harness tethers us to the boat whenever we are on deck changing or reefing sails. On our watch, we look for sea birds (albatross and migrating shearwaters, etc) and sea crea tures (dolphins, whales and turtles), as well as ships and hazards to navigation.

Often we see nothing. But this voyage was an obstacle course. By radio, we learned of a semi-submerged barge, verti cal in the water - dead on our rhumbline course. And then we learned that the German yacht Taurus, rolled and damaged by outrageous wind and sea conditions, had been abandoned at a position five miles off our actual track. We had passed the area in the wee hours of a dark morn

ing.

On our sixth day at sea, a gale was blowing out of the southwest. Standing in our companionway looking aft, I watched as the ocean lifted our hull and was amazed at how easily Fellowship glided over the huge building seas. Some of the swells broke just behind the stern.

Luckily, all bubbled as they passed under our keel.

After 10 days at sea, I called Nuku’alofa Radio on VHP Channel 16. At my request, they contacted the appropriate quarrantine and customs officials.

Nuku’alofa Radio stands by for emergen cy traffic 24 hours a day and broadcasts weather information twice daily on VHP and SSB radio frequencies.

It was a hard 14-mile slog into the har bour from the number one sea buoy, with southeasterly trade winds on the nose and intermittent rain. Fellowship sidetied to the Canadian yacht Skylark at Queen Salote wharf, and quarrantine and customs officials came aboard to clear us in. I served up Cadbury’s chocolate and hot Milo while we completed the paperwork.

Clearance was easy, with a minimum of fuss, and Duke (the customs officer) wel comed us to his kingdom.

Nukualofa’s small yacht basin is just east of town. Basic amenities include cold showers and laundry tubs. The harbour was nearly empty when we arrived, though it had been jam packed with the Eurpoean “Tradewinds Rally-Round-the- World” fleet a few days earlier. Like us, these big boats had stopped to make repairs, take on provisions and see the

sights.

How great to be back in the islands where puffy cumulous clouds fill the sky and the scent of coconut oil permeates the breeze. In the tropics, sunrise is always welcome, the sunsets always spectacular.

A market scene in the Tongan capital

The King's Palace in Nuku'alofa

The pace is slower, too, although we always end up running around like chick ens with our heads cut off - topping up fuel and water tanks, doing laundry, shop ping for fresh food.

In town, we poked through Nukualofa’s handicraft shops, the fresh fruit and vegetable market and several grocery stores. We bought doughnuts from a young girl with an unusual gold inlay in her front tooth. In the shape of a capital letter “L”, the inlay stood for “love”, she told me. In Tonga, lots of attractive young women spend money on creative dentistry - gold inlays in the shape of hearts, letters,

stars, geometries.

With drinking nuts and oranges in hand, we headed off to a waterfront park next to the King’s Palace. Nearby, the Vuna wharf market was busy with the buying and selling of fish and shellfish. A friendly soul smiled at me as I squeezed off a photo and I stopped to talk. ’Ofa, her face full of love and charac ter, sat with her daughter, Sane, and five year-old granddaughter, Salote. ’Ofa has 10 children (five daughters, five sons), 59 grandchildren and 35 great grandchildren. She wanted to introduce us to Tongan customs and invited us to her grandson’s wedding feast. Thrilled with

the opportunity, we accepted.

Our taxi arrived at precisely 11am on Sunday, no ‘island time’ with Mormon taxi drivers. We were ready to go. We

passed many churches, a prison, the University of the South Pacific’s Tongan

campus. Along the

rugged roadway,

women were dressed in their Sunday best,

with big crunchy mats

and kiekie of all sizes and designs tied around their middles.

We found the home of ’Ofa’s eldest son, Tonga, in the vil

lage of

Tatakamotonga, near

Mu’a, on the outskirts of Nuku’alofa. ’Ofa was at church when we arrived so I helped the women cover plates of sliced toma toes, onions, hot dogs, scotch eggs, potato salad - with plastic wrap, the modern

replacement for

banana leaves. Several

young girls sat nearby,

waving their hands over the food, keeping the flies at bay. Tonga showed Foster his

wood-carving tools

’while several young men unloaded the umu

(earth oven). Cooked food was laid out on pola, or traditional Tongan ‘food stretch ers’.

The quantity of food was pure Polynesia. Fourteen roast suckling pigs, huge chunks of pork, fish, chicken, octo pus, taro, yams the size of a man’s leg, noodles, sweet fai kakai, oranges, water melon slices - all laid out on mats and sheltered from the sun and wind by giant tapa cloths. The bride and groom sat at the head of this al fresco banquet. Next to them was a young woman, swaddled in great masses of tapa, who stood in for, and called herself, the “uncle”. Together, we ate and ate.

Our taxi driver returned at spm. On the way back to the small boat harbour, he taught us our Tongan phrase for the day: “Fefe hakeT ’ or “How are you?”

Our simultaneous response was, “Full up!” ■

Vilipele and Tufu Uaisele ... the bride and groom

Ofa and her grandson on the day of the wedding feast