Picnic Beach

Tonga Episode four – Tonga Sunsets galore

We are up with the chickens, pigs and one especially hoarse sounding rooster. I for one would like to ring his cock-a-doodle neck. After getting to the restaurant we find out it is actually 9:00am already but neither of us has a watch nor anywhere to go so who cares? We decide to sit at a table out on the beach and Fu'naki is right there with a plate of fruit, tea, coffee and toast. One can actually have hot or cold meals served almost anytime anywhere at the resort, in your room, on the beach, at the bar or in the restaurant. This suits me just fine, put the food down and I'll find it!

On our first full day, all we want to do is lay about, read a book and soak up the sun; so that's exactly what we do. After saying goodbye to Marla and Jim, the American couple we met yesterday, we both decide to lie on chaise lounges on the beach and read the books we have brought with us from New Zealand.

All this peace and serenity lasts about five minutes, until I realize I can read a book anywhere. We brought a small, hand held, fishing line with us (don't ask me why) so I decide I'm going to do some fishing off the small boat dock at the end of the stone pier in front of the resort. I mention my plans to Fu'naki and she has a large frozen baitfish sent out from the kitchen. An hour later I have nothing to show for my efforts except sunburn and the sun-bleached skeleton of a baitfish. I think I would have had more luck if I tried to hit the fish on the head with the sinker.

Later in the afternoon we get to resume our friendship with Marla and Jim as they return having missed the only plane off the island that day. Apparently Marla wanted to change some money at the bank, got caught in a long line, and ended up late getting to the airport. The plane was actually still there but the door was closed and the engines running. Marla and Jim thought they would surely shut down the one engine and open the door. They thought that even as they watched it roll out on to the runway and lift into the sky waving its wings goodbye. Poor Matthew was driving them and now he gets in trouble for letting them miss the plane. It really wasn't his fault as Marla insisted on going into the bank to exchange her Tongan money. They will now also miss their plane to Hawaii and there won't be another for two days. They will catch tomorrow's plane to Nuku'alofa but they will have to spend the night there… if they can find a place to stay.

Marla is quite upset but since it didn't happen to us, I take the news quite calmly, have another 'Tongan Sunset' and ponder the situation. I finally decide, we are so far from anywhere, it you miss the plane, you can't get there from here anymore! You have to go somewhere else first. 'Tongan Sunsets' seem to clarify the thought process.

After the American's had left Murray said he was going to serve lobster for dinner. I had suspected he waited until they were gone, thinking they would miss the plane on purpose just to enjoy the dinner. Although I don't want to mention it, I am convinced, more than ever, that they knew the dinner menu before they left! Again, 'Tongan Sunset' logic proves itself infallible.

This night, we experience what has to be the most memorable time of our entire journey. A long wooden dinner table and chairs are set up in the sand on the beach, just inches from the water and under the stars. Hurricane lamps on the tables and torches stuck in the sand are provided for atmosphere lighting. Waves lapping on the beach, almost under our feet, provide the background music. All the guests sit together at the table, exchanging stories, drinking fine wine and enjoying a wonderful lobster meal. I don't think any of us want these moments to end.

Eventually, out of the darkness behind the cabins, comes the plaintive cry of my favourite rooster, the one with a bellowing voice and sore throat. Reluctantly, we say goodnight to our fellow travellers, return to our cabin, wash the sand from our feet in the steel pan and lock ourselves in behind a piece of string wrapped around a metal hook. Wow, what a day.

The next day we were up rather early (8:30 is rather early for us) as we are scheduled to go on a water tour of the islands with Niva a local boat owner that works for the resort. As we are enjoying our fruit, coffee and toast breakfast, Murray the chef is busy running along the shoreline yelling at a local spear-fisher who is gliding by in a kayak just a few feet out from the beach. It isn't a good idea to encourage spearfishing on a beach full of tourists… anyone near my proportions could easily be mistaken for a small whale and that would be all the resort would need. The local pays no attention whatsoever to Murray and that further upsets him but little can be done short of dynamite.

Soon we see Niva pull into the dock in his wooden boat with the outboard motor on the back. The boat looks very sea worthy with a high bow and a small, open cabin. He says we are welcome to sit on top of the cabin to get a better view. We load our lunch that was prepared by the obliging kitchen staff, wave goodbye to the other guests and we are soon putt-putting off on our adventure.

We pass the spear-fisherman that was the object of Murray's verbal attack earlier and he exchanges a few words in Tongan with Niva. We don't know what they are discussing but it brings smiles to their faces. I suspect they are talking about the joy of bringing Murray to the edge of a coronary.

We motor quite close to the shore and marvel at the clarity of the water as we pass over white sand dotted with coral heads. Schools of small brightly coloured fish are visible darting here and there among the coral. We glide by volcanic islands that look like giant mushrooms after being undercut by the constant action of waves. Every once-in-awhile the sheer cliffs are interrupted by a white sand beach that looks like it was prepared for a movie set. A home or group of houses forming a village occasionally breaks the lush green covering of coconut trees and bush. Large, well-kept buildings with large grass areas surrounded by some sort of fence are, invariably, a church. Even government buildings cannot compare in grandeur to the churches.

Soon Niva stops the boat and invites us to do some snorkelling in the crystal clear water. Small, brightly coloured fish abound in the coral and Mrs Wilderness immediately dives in and glides over the colourful panorama below her. In the meantime, as I jump into the water, I inhale what feels like a quart of salt water and almost drown. The burning in my throat and lungs is terrible and I struggle to get back into the boat before going under for the third and last time. The entire scene looks like it was cut from the movie Jaws! Niva thought his boat was being attacked by a 'great white' but it was just me trying to get to something solid other than the ocean bottom.

So there I sat like a reject from the kindergarten field trip to a kiddie-pool, keeping Niva company while we wait for Mrs Wilderness to come up for air. When she finally does come back on board she can't stop telling of the beautiful and amazing things she saw… including something splashing on the surface, over by the boat, that could have been a whale in distress. When she asks if I saw it, I tell her I did and that's why I got out of the water. Niva rolls his eyes and starts the engine.

By this time we're getting a little hungry so we head to a beautiful white sand beach where Niva drops anchor and we dig into our picnic basket goodies. We eat our sandwiches and banana cake lunch and then wander around the beach and surf for a while looking for shells and admiring the scenery. This is another scene from a movie only this time it is two people wading in crystal clear water as it laps on a warm, white sand beach covered with palm trees whose fronds are swaying in the gentle warm breeze.

All too soon Niva says it's time to leave so we climb aboard and head toward a place called The Swallow Cave. The Swallow Cave is located in the side of a cliff on one of the many islands belonging to the Vava'u Group. Niva drives the boat into the cave and then shuts off the engine as we glide in water so clear we can see the sandy bottom fifteen feet below. The high, dome like ceiling of the cave is covered with swallow nests and the air if full of swallows that are flying around frantically having been disturbed by our presence.

Except for the fluttering of the bird's wings, we are amazed at the silence inside this huge chamber with the crashing sea just outside. It was a totally fascinating experience but, I can't help but feel concern for the birds when as we leave the silence comes to an end as Niva cranks up his Johnson outboard and we roar out of the cave in a cloud of blue smoke and a cacophony of sound. I can just imagine the swallows putting their little wings over their ears and coughing.

Niva stops one more time and lets Mrs Wilderness get back in with the fishes, while chicken-of-the-sea Wilderness sits with him and makes sure he and the boat don't leave. Mrs Wilderness says this diving area is just like the last, full of colourful fish and a wide range of coral attempting to match the rainbow of the fish.

After that we head back to the resort and from the dock throw an appreciative wave to Niva, watch him motor away and then make a dash for the bar and cool drink. While we are relaxing (this is tough work but someone has to do it) we meet Andrew and Vicki who are on holiday from Baffin Island. Andrew is a Northwest Mounted Policeman and they are both a wealth of stories about the small, ice bound inlet where they live near the arctic circle. We can imagine what a shock it must be to their systems to leave the sub-zero temperatures of the north and land, a couple of days later, on Vava'u.

Also during the day, Pauline, the girl with the sore throat, has gone to the local Italian Doctor's Office but to nobody's surprise except Pauline's, he's out fishing. They end up taking her to the hospital in Neiafu (even the tourist guide says use the Doctor instead) and luckily there's an Australian Nurse there that helps matters along and Pauline is given some medicine to relieve her pain.

Dinner tonight is another page from the "Welcome to Paradise Notebook" as we again eat under the stars on the beach. There are other places to eat on the islands but it seems nobody wants to take the chance of missing one of Murray's fabulous works of art. During the day the owner of the resort, Dietre Dyck, had returned from a trip down to the "big smoke" of Nuku'alofa and he joins us for dinner. Dietre lived for some time in New Zealand and along with his Tongan wife Senikau, started the Tonga Beach Resort from scratch. It seems every night we are treated to our own personal travel show with guests appearing live "up close and personal" and relating adventures most can only dream of.

It's been a long day of sun and surf so we're off to our rooms for a relaxing read and night of rest. We don't hear our favourite rooster tonight so I dream of him being placed in someone's pot and ending up as a soup. What else is there to dream of in Xanadu?
Continued…