The Kingdom of Tonga: Season One

"Never have we felt as welcome as we did in the islands of Tonga" -Lin and Larry Pardey, Taleisin's Tales: Sailing Towards the Southern Cross

Malo e lelei, dear friends and family,

I'm happy to be back. I missed writing you all, and I have so many wonderful things to share about our next destination on our journey: Tonga. Given the length of this post, maybe too many wonderful things? If you're heading west, don't skip out on this gem of a country.

Please note that I geeked out about Tonga, and I may have provided more information than anybody wanted or needed. I'm also combining multiple months into one post, which I don't normally do. While reading, set an alarm to get up and move your body once in a while. I added photo breaks after each section to help. Stay hydrated. You're in it for the long haul now. Sorry. 

Tonga Overview

Tonga is remote. It consists of 171 islands, totaling 750 square km of land scattered across 700,000 square km of ocean. Of these islands, only 45 are inhabited. These islands make up four island groups: the Nuias, Vava'u, Ha'apai, and Tongatapu. The majority of the country's 100,000 residents live on the largest island, Tongatapu, near or in the capital of Nuku'alofa. 

What is now Tonga was first inhabited at least 2,500 years ago by Lapita canoe sailors. Over time, they evolved a distinct identity, language, and culture as the Tongan people. These people formed the Tu'i Tonga Empire and at one time ruled across the South Pacific, from the Solomon Islands to the western edges of French Polynesia. Their navigational savviness and military might made them a formidable force. This is a surprising history for a currently small, pacifist nation now known endearingly as "The Friendly Isles."

As the only country in the South Pacific that has not been colonized by foreign powers, it is truly unique and truly, well, Tongan. It doesn't have the capitalist history so prevalent in other places we've visited. Tonga has been ruled/governed by Tongans since the beginning of its oral history, a point of pride for locals.  

While it is considered taboo to criticize Tonga's constitutional monarchy, there've been increased demonstrations for a fully democratic Tonga. Corruption has been the rule, especially in the previous parliament. However, as an American, I can't exactly criticize. Without providing too many details here, Tonga's political climate is complicated. With the influence of globalism, though, things may continue to change. 

Aspects of daily Tongan life that seem solid, however, are the values held most dear to Tongan culture, the Faa'i Kavei Koula (Four Golden Pillars), and are as follows:

• Faka'apa'apa (Respect): This encompasses respect for elders, the social hierarchy, and the Tongan way. I will explain the social hierarchy as it relates to the family unit in the next blog post. As Palangis (white visitors), we show Faka'apa'apa by covering our knees and shoulders in the presence of officials and refraining from making loud noise on the Sabbath (Sundays). 
• Angafakatōkilalo Loto tō (Humility): This includes selflessness, often contrasted with the pursuit of excessive wealth. We were told before arriving not to outwardly admire something a Tongan owns, because they may choose to give it to us, leaving them poorer.
• Tauhi Va (Nurturing Relationships): Most Tongans generally favor maintaining healthy relationships within their kaingas (families and broader communities) over meeting their individual needs. In fact, locals on some very remote islands, when asked how they are, may not understand the question and answer for their village or family instead. Tongans generally go out of their way to not offend.
• Mamahi'i me'a (Loyalty and Passion): This value embodies loyalty toward loved ones and passion in applying oneself to their faith, cause, or task. In other words, Tongans value loving people and doing things with their full hearts.

Another important facet of Tongan life is their adherence to religion. As one local would later tell us, "To be Tongan is to be Christian. It's who we are." Which is pretty true. 97% of Tongans in Tonga identify as Christian. So while Tonga has never been formally colonized, Christianity somehow makes it feel like it has.

Starting in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, missionaries were abundant here. They found Tongans were agreeable converts because Christianity so closely mirrored Tongan beliefs. For example, the first humans on Earth were known as Kohai (woman), Koau (man), and Momo (third gender), and were raised from the uanga (fly larvae in the earth), a narrative slightly resembling that of Adam and Eve. In another well-known Tongan story, 'Aho'eitu, the ruler of the Tu'i Tonga Dynasty in the early tenth century, was believed to be the son of god 'Eitumātupu'a and a mortal woman, 'Ilaheva Va'epopua. He was killed by 'Eitumātupu'a's other sons, but with 'Eitumātupu'a's power, he rose again. This story blended seamlessly into the story of Jesus. 'Aho'eitu's descendants became the rulers of the Tu'i Tongan Empire, and the descendants of his brothers became the nobles/chiefs, sentenced to serve 'Aho'eitu's descendants for all eternity.      

During a period of civil wars and succession, Christianity actually promoted peace among the warring factions. In 1845, Tāufa'āhau--a warrior, skilled orator, and descendant of 'Aho'eitu--used the regions' priests to unite all remaining Tongan factions into one kingdom: The Kingdom of Tonga we know today. He became this new kingdom's first king, was christened King Siaosi (pronounced "George" in Tongan) Tupou I, and, in an attempt to ward off colonial powers and gain acceptance by local leaders, converted the kingdom to Christianity. It worked. Tonga became a protected state, but not a ruled one, under the Treaty of Friendship with Britain, and Britain recognized King Tupou I's rule. 

While I'm normally skeptical about the role missionaries have played in small countries, I understand that Tonga's relationship with religion is nuanced. Since Christianity wasn't forced upon them with colonial violence, it is a symbol of Tongan sovereignty. It helped end the wars. It ended the slavery-like serfdom that forced all commoners to serve their chiefs, the descendants of Aho'eitu's brothers. It also gave commoners a hope for an afterlife, as the earlier mythology only allowed this privilege to the chiefdom. 

However, as an outsider, it's hard not to notice the downfalls too. It pushed out important aspects of Tongan cultural identity (e.g., tattoos) to the margins, introduced other hierarchies, and enacted anti-LBGTQ+ laws that, while not enforced today, add to an environment of discrimination toward fakaleitis and leitis (queer Tongans), people who were previously accepted and integral to family and social life. While same-sex couples who've sailed here reported only warm welcomes, it's important to note that Palangis are given more leeway in Tonga than Tongans are. Religion in Tonga, like politics, is complicated.

Other interesting things about Tonga:

• There are no stoplights, franchises, or highways in the Kingdom.
• Tonga time is a thing. Thirty minutes after an agreed-upon time is considered on time, even early. 
• Many shops don't have names, and you just have to ask around. The majority of shops are owned by Chinese immigrants, called "Chinese shops." 
• Most locals cover their knees and shoulders, but commonly work and walk barefoot. Even high-level professionals are often barefoot.  
• More people prefer to go outside when it rains and stay inside when it's sunny. Most people swim during rainy weather, and rarely in sunny weather. Almost everyone swims in clothes, or at most t-shirts and shorts, as bathing suits are considered immodest.  
• There is no haggling in Tonga. It's considered rude. For example, all vendors at Neiafu's market price produce the same to avoid competing with their neighbors. Everything is sold in groups of five or six items. Just looking for one carrot and one cucumber? You can't, you weirdo. 
• Tongans, especially children, often say bye in situations when we would normally say hi. This isn't a passive-aggressive way to get rid of you. There are two ways of greeting people in Tonga: "malo e lelei" (hello at the start of a conversation) and "bye" (as an acknowledgement if they are just passing by).
• Tongans quickly lift and lower their eyebrows to say yes. This is often used instead of vocalizing yes, so if you only hear silence after asking a yes/no question, look at the eyebrows.       

Nuiatoputapu

We left Apia in the evening of 12 September, figuring we could spend two nights at sea and arrive in Vava'u the morning of the 14th. The hope was to check in, settle, and get to know the town of Neiafu before the start of the Bluewater Sailing Festival on the evening of the 20th. Experts on sailing the long passage to New Zealand would be there, and we were eager to learn as much as we could before heading south in October. 

However, after a few hours of stacked seas on the nose, we decided to contact the Port Authority in Niuatoputapu in the nearest island group of the Nuias, resend our paperwork, and ask if we could check in there instead. The one customs official on the island, Mrs. O'u,  responded with, "Of course!" 

Once we landed, we picked up Mrs. O'u, the health officials, and the biosecurity officials (all family members) in our tiny dinghy and motored at about a knot with our tiny electric trolling motor, half sunken in the water, back to our boat. Rather than growing impatient, our visitors just laughed and pretended to hang on for speed. This was our first of many experiences with Tongan humour and patience. After a quick inspection and a happy face drawn on our biosecurity forms, we were officially checked in to Tonga. Nuiatoputapu is gorgeous, even just from the boat, and worth the stop.

We had the next day, Saturday, to explore the island. The twice-monthly supply ferry entered the harbour in the morning, and we dinghied around it to tie up. A young girl offered to help us with our line and told us she was going to take the ferry on Monday. When we asked where, she replied "Tonga," which confused us to no end. 

"Aren't we already in Tonga?"

"Yes."

"And where are you going?"

"Tonga."

This conversation would clearly loop around, so we changed the subject. It would take weeks for us to learn that when locals say Tonga, they mostly refer to the island of Tongatapu, or "Tonga" for short.

As we walked by homes, people smiled and welcomed us with malo e leilei or bye. One truck stopped to hand us several satsumas and asked nothing in return, simply because they had harvested too many. 

With a population of 719 people, everyone knows everyone on the island. And the knowledge of our presence seemed to travel throughout the island before we could even walk around it. The Tongan spoken here is slightly different from the Tongan spoken in other parts of the country. It includes elements of the neighboring languages of Samoan, 'Uvean, and Futunan. 

The next day was our first Sunday in Tonga, so we relaxed on the boat. Sundays are important, and the only permitted activities are traveling to church, praying, feasting, and spending time with family. Everything else closes down. 

Tafahi Volcano, just north of Nuiataputopu

new friend

Nice paved roads in the town of Falehau

In Nuiatoputapu's biggest town, Hihifo

A quiet night in Nuiatoputapu's spacious anchorage 

Vava'u: Nieafu

"Though we have a relatively long list of favorite voyaging destinations, there are only a few places that offer what I call perfect cruising. The waters around La Paz in Mexico's Baja California, Brazil's Isla Grande, and the Aland Islands in Finland...From the moment we sailed out of the open ocean and through the islands of Vava'u, we sensed we would add another perfect cruising destination to our list." -Lin and Larry Pardey, Taleisin's Tales: Sailing Towards the Southern Cross

We would have loved to stay in Nuiatoputapu, but Monday was looking like the first and last weather window to sail south for weeks. It took one overnight to reach Vava'u, the beloved island group that would become our home for a while. To me, Vava'u is shaped like an octopus, with its round, impenetrable head pointing north and its many tentacle-like islands and reefs curving around and protecting all of its many inner anchorages. This geography makes Vava'u a sailors' paradise. Imagine the flat waters of British Columbia with the winds, warmth, and jungle greens of the tropics. Add in the kind people, abundant wildlife, and turquoise bays, and we didn't want to leave. In fact, we discussed at length the possibility of keeping De Novo in The Boatyard Vava'u over cyclone season and postponing our trip to New Zealand altogether. It was tempting, but we had already made so many arrangements for New Zealand. 

Once in Vava'u's biggest town, Neiafu, we signed up for the Bluewater Sailing Festival and caught up with friends in the harbour. One friend on SV Hana introduced us to SV Side Two, SV Tartaruga, and SV Seventh Heaven, and together we hired a guide to take us to do what we could have only imagined in our wildest dreams: swim with humpback whales. For those of you who know I'm obsessed with humpbacks, you know this is my dream come true.

Guides work hard to respect the whales' innate behavior. Only five swimmers are allowed in the water at a time (one guide and four visitors) in an effort to try not to add too much "human" to their natural environment.

Unlike Dave and everyone else in our group, I'm not a strong swimmer. While I'm good at not drowning and can sometimes go long(ish) distances without asking Dave to pull me, I am useless in big seas or strong countercurrents. In fact, it's only now that I've given in and asked Dave for solid, consistent swim lessons.   

Unfortunately, we motored out of Vava'u's protected waters to swim. Fortunately, Dave and our new friends helped me. I decided to watch our friends in the first couple swims. In one, a whale appeared to be resting vertically. Was she asleep? As she moved slightly closer, she revealed a small calf nursing. Everyone got goosebumps. It was a defining, emotional experience for everyone involved. 

I jumped in during the third swim, knowing Dave and our friends would keep an eye on me. I heard clear whale songs, so I figured they were close. Just then, Tami from SV Tartaruga touched my shoulder underwater and pointed down. 

There they were: several massive, speckled gray and white bodies. I saw fins, blowholes. EYES. They continued to sing as I floated motionless above them, just an astronaut in their world. Their enormous, powerful presence overwhelmed every one of my emotions, and all I could identify was awe. Somewhere between the surreal and real, I was swimming with humpback whales, the Leviathan Gods of the ocean.

Awe crested into appreciation, and I felt so thankful to everyone on the boat who helped me experience this. I especially felt gratitude toward the whales and immense privilege to live in a world where they exist. It was something I would remember for the rest of my life.

The guide explained that we witnessed a heat run, an aggressive race among bulls to win the affection of a cow in heat. Apparently, they were too distracted by hormones to care about our presence. Knowing that, I'm glad we didn't find ourselves too close!

We had a couple more opportunities to swim with the whales before stopping by Swallows Cave and swimming among its mysterious recesses. Tonga, I am in love.

We spent the next week at Neiafu's Bluewater Sailing Festival, learning as much as we could about both Tongan culture and sailing to/in New Zealand. Outside of the festival's events, we hiked Mt Talau, pet countless shop cats, met locals, and attended mass to meet more locals and enjoy the harmonic singing. My favorite walks were by schools during recesses, when young children would run to the gates, yell "bye," and want to practice their English. They would ask a question and then giggle and hide behind their friends as we'd answer in our strange North American accents. 

While in Neiafu, we also voted by certified mail in the US general election. Our European friends in town warned, "Don't screw this up, America." But, as we all know, we did. But that's a story for another blog. What is important to share, though, is that no one we've met treats us poorly because we're Americans, even after the election results, even after the US became even more hostile to visitors. We have a lot to learn from the rest of the world.

The Vava'u Group, courtesy of the Sailingbird's Guide to The Kingdom of Tonga
So many protected inlets and coves!

Port of Refuge in Neiafu was full for the Bluewater Sailing Festival!

On our way to meet the whales!

An extraordinary experience. Thank you, whales.

Note: Thank you to our friends on SV Side Two, SV Seventh Heaven, and SV Tartaruga for taking some of the pictures and videos.

Dave in Swallows Cave

A common sight in Tonga: lots of pigs

Not quite as exciting after seeing humpbacks, but adorable nonetheless

I fell in love with all of them, of course.

I didn't fall in love with the big spiders.

Mt Talau Viewpoint
According to legend, tevolo (mischievous nighttime spirits) from Samoa wanted to take the top off of Mt. Talau to expand their view. At night, because tevolo can only go outside at night, they took their bush knife and began to slice away the top half of the mountain. Villagers asked for help from their own tevolo. Tafakula, the most cunning Tongan tevolo of all, promptly staged herself at the eastern side of the island, bent over, and lifted her skirts. The Samoan tevolo, fooled into thinking her rear end was the sun, dropped the top part of Mt. Talau in the channel and rushed back to Samoa. The mountain has been short and flat ever since, and the top made a new island, Lotumo, where the Samoan tevelo left it.   

Within the tentacles of Vava'u is Mt. Talau (the big circle) and its counterpart Lotumo Is. 
The town of Neiafu is directly east of Mt. Talau.

Neiafu in the far middle

A surprise kava circle at The Boatyard Vava'u during the festival

A local woman in Pangai beating pre-soaked mulberry bark to turn it into tapa cloth as part of a demonstration for the festival.

Large tapa cloths like this take many years and are passed on as heirlooms in Tongan families. Tapas this size demonstrate wealth.

Friendly dancers with Angie from SV Side Two and me
The girls were part of the phenomenal dance troupe hired for the festival
They took lots of pics of us palangis too!

Vava'u: Kenutu Anchorage

After the festival was over, we moved on to other anchorages within Vava'u. Though we planned to visit as many as possible, we fell in love with each one we visited and stayed longer than expected, therefore making it to only a few. While at the eastern reefs at Kenutu Island (anchorage #30 in the Sailingbird's Guide to the Kingdom of Tonga), we balanced all the fun stuff (swimming, hiking, snorkeling, and paddleboarding our hearts out) with prepping our boats and ourselves for the New Zealand passage.

While there, we watched the US vice-presidential election on SV Side Two. Here, we gave our British friends from SV Ruffian of Amble the unique experience of watching American political theatre with Americans yelling at the screen. JD Vance left us all feeling gross, so we washed off in the anchorage after dark. And for several days after.

We definitely recommend Kenutu. It is paradise.

De Novo, from Kenutu Island

With Iain and Fiona from SV Ruffian of Amble

With Angie and Marc from SV Side Two 

Vava'u: Pangaimotu/ Lisa's Beach/ Maungaui Anchorage      

While in #10, we hiked with friends on SV Side Two, SV Hana, and SV Solstice Tide to Veimumuni Cave, a swimming hole across the peninsula. While walking through the town of Pangai, we enjoyed visiting with the adorable kids who, like kids everywhere in Tonga, wanted to show us around. Once we were beyond their allowed range and on the outskirts of town, we noticed something small and black on the side of the road. 

A puppy. A very sick or injured puppy that couldn't get up.

I know that veterinary services, especially spay and neuter services, are extremely limited here. I understand cats and dogs overbreed, get diseases, and don't make it. I know that is a fact of life. But we obviously couldn't let the puppy die. 

Fortunately, during the festival, we learned about Host-a-Vet, a fantastic charity in Vava'u that provides medications and flies in veterinarians and vet techs from New Zealand for medication drops and twice-yearly free desexing clinics. We tried to contact them, but we had no signal. We tried to talk to the owners of the home nearby, but a gate out in front was locked (an uncommon sight in Tonga). Our friends offered to keep walking to Humpback Lodge down the road, as we knew both the lodge and Host-a-Vet were on VHF radio, and they could call them by there.      

Meanwhile, Dave and I stayed behind with the puppy. We saw a mom nursing other puppies nearby, so we brought him over, hoping he was part of her litter and she would accept and feed him. Instead, she growled and snapped at him, evoking a cry from the puppy. Despite being unable to use his legs, he tried to crawl back to her, a heart-wrenching sight. I carried him instead to the shade and poured water from our pack into an empty coconut shell. He struggled to lift his head to drink, so I dripped some into his mouth. 

A van with the Humpback Lodge logo pulled up, and the driver drove us and the puppy back to the lodge to meet up with our friends. The owner of the lodge, Lini, knew the puppy's family based on the location and description of the home or friends gave her and called them. They were happy to surrender the sick puppy to her. Once we set him down in blankets, Lini gave him fluids and soft foods until Tracey from Host-a-Vet arrived later that evening to diagnose and treat him. 

It was getting late, and knowing the puppy was in good hands, we decided to finish our hike. We walked through the next town of Toula and, of course, fell in love with all of the kids there, too. They walked with us back through town after our plunge at the cave, holding our hands and gifting us mangos from their trees.

We stopped back at Humpback Lodge to eat dinner and check on the puppy. Between naps, he had started to lift his head and drink a little. He even wagged his tail when the lodge's other resident dog, a gentle giant with a natural maternal instinct, came over to check on him. 

Later that evening, Tracey called to let me know that he had a bad bout of heartworm, but he'd already started medication. He would pull through. Lini named him Survivor. 

I later learned that Lini is short for LinLarry, named after her godparents Lin and Larry Pardey. For those not in the sailing world, the Pardeys were "America's first couple of cruising," known for their exceptional seamanship and boatbuilding (and earlier quotes in this blog post). They sailed engineless all around the world, including Tonga where they grew very close with local families in this area decades ago. What a serendipitous world this is. 

The puppy now known as Survivor

Now in good hands with Lini at Humpback Lodge

Tara and Owen (the head behind Tara) from SV Solstice Tide with Angie and Marc and us in the Veimumuni Cave. Jan and Doug from SV Hana took the picture.


Survivor with an appetite again!

Survivor moving about and playing with his new sibling just days later!

Vava'u: Euakafa

Soon after we met Lini and Survivor, we returned to Neiafu and finished last-minute provisioning. Angie and Marc were kind enough to fill up our water tanks with their watermaker so we wouldn't have to make several trips to land with our water jugs. Of course, the next day, we experienced torrential downfall! 

We checked out of Vava'u and staged in a little nook west of Euakafa, a southern island in the Vava'u group, for the sail south to Ha'apai, about 60 nm away. Here, we met a Swiss named Wilfred, the island's sole resident, and his dog, Dog. We brought him baked bread, and he told us stories of living on the island alone ever since his wife died two years ago. His daughter visits from Neiafu by skiff twice a month and brings supplies, but he refuses to go there. "It's too loud. Too busy in the big city." 

Anyone who calls Neiafu the big city has taken hermitage to the next level, and we feel honoured that he welcomed us into his private world.  

Dave with Euakafa Island in the background

One of Wilfred's fales

Ha'apai: Lifuka

From Euakava, we sailed 60 nautical miles south to Ha'apai on a quick, comfortable beam. Ha'apai is a remote, less-traveled island group in Tonga. Sailors don't stay there for long because there are limited secure anchorages in westerlies and few supplies. We decided to enjoy our time there as we waited for the right weather window to New Zealand. We were thrilled to be joining up with friends, so we wouldn't sail to New Zealand alone.  

Of the 51 islands in Ha'apai, 17 are inhabited. The majority of the estimated 5,000 inhabitants live on the main islands of Lifuka and Foa. Many islands in this area are still recovering from the 2022 Tonga Hunga volcanic eruption and ensuing tsunami.

We checked into Ha'apai at the administrative centre of Pangai (not to be confused with the Pangai in Vava'u) on Lifuka. All customs procedures took place in the official's living room while we played with her toddler. We loved the small-town feel of Pangai and savoured the small pleasures, like the ice cream cones from the small stand in town. 

In the late eighteenth century, Captain Cook spent significant time in the Ha'apai archipelago. He was so impressed by Tongan hospitality that he coined the term "The Friendly Isles" for the area. The weather turned, and he left Lifuka early, still beaming from his productive interactions with Lifuka's high chief Finau. Little did Cook know that Finhau was plotting to kill Cook and his men and loot their ships the next day. 

Fortunately, like everywhere else we went in Tonga, people were friendly without an ulterior motive to kill us. At least as far as we knew.

Our heavy anchor hatch, however, did choose violence and fell on Dave's foot. Blood swelled under his big toenail, lifting his nail and causing pain. I read online that I just needed to sterilize a needle and poke him to release the pressure, and boy, was I excited to try that. Unfortunately, Dave introduced reason and reminded me that we didn't want it to get infected during the ten-day passage to New Zealand. We decided to go to Lifuka's one hospital/ medical clinic and have it professionally done instead (boring). Once there, we waited in the intake area with a teenage girl who waited for her little brother. She taught us several new Tongan phrases and how to master the Tongan "yes" with our eyebrows.      

Dave's doctors removed his nail, treated his nailbed, dressed it, and prescribed him antibiotics and pain medication. They asked him to return in a couple of days to have it looked at and redressed. When I picked up his medication, the woman behind the counter warned me to watch my man and make sure he doesn't hurt himself anymore. "Men are clumsy," she reminded me. 

Total cost of hospital treatment and medication? Only $24USD! If we were Tongan residents, it would have been even less. A great perk of sailing as Americans is getting affordable healthcare in more civilized countries. 

Pangai Harbour from the water

Just a sampling of the many churches

The ice cream stand in Pangai
We weren't sure if the shop was named Brian, if Brian tagged the shop (twice), or if they were trying to reach someone named Brian in a plane above. 

Ha'apai: O'ua

Soon after our romance with socialized medicine, the weather was expected to turn sour. With high winds forecasted to swing around 360 degrees, there weren't any obvious options to hide out in Ha'apai. Almost all of our friends sailed the 70 nm of open ocean back north to Nieafu and checked back in to Vava'u. With stiff northerlies, we really didn't want to do that, especially because a weather window to New Zealand would open immediately after.

After staring at the charts, we mentioned the island of 'O'ua to the southwest as an alternative to returning to Vava'u to our new friends, Bruce and Alene on SV Migration. 'O'ua's anchorage, while only protected by winds by 'O'ua Island to the north, looked protected in all other directions by thick reef. Though high winds were unavoidable, we didn't expect the seas to build too high over the reef. As the developers of The Chart Locker and other projects, Bruce and Aleen are sailors with unparalleled wisdom and experience. We would follow them anywhere. They agreed it was a good choice and said they would hole up there as well. 

We navigated around 'Ou'a's labyrinthine reef and set the hook among Migration and another boat. Soon after, a fourth boat, Apu Ora, joined us. We would wait out the storm together.

Fortunately, the storm wasn't set to start until later that evening, so we could explore the island. Well, SV Migration, Yuan from Apu Ora, and I did while Dave continued to let his foot heal onboard.

'O'ua is a small island with only 45 residents. Bruce and Alene knew more Tongan than Yuan and I did, so talking with villagers with them was fun. After walking around, we made our way to the school and spoke with the teachers outside. Usually, there is only one teacher, but since the senior teacher was training an apprentice, we were there during an overlap of service. They explained the day was "recreation day" and the focus was more on health and sports than academics. As a result, they accepted our offer to play games with the kids. 

We led some PE activities and learned some new ones from the kids, using both Tongan and English numbers and expressions. The kids were just starting to learn English, so our minimal language was at a perfect level for all of us. We all spent the afternoon running around and laughing, a reminder that sometimes words aren't needed for an authentic connection. This was one of my favorite experiences in Tonga. I will never forget the kids on 'O'ua.

Once we were back at the jetty and away from the protected interior of the island, we felt the wind pick up. Once we were onboard, it hit 30-35 knots. The reef did provide some protection from the seas, but not as much as we'd hoped. We wanted to let out more chain, but with another boat so close behind us, we didn't want to pull back too much. But after dark, as the winds increased and the seas started to jerk, we thought it safer to go somewhere with more scope. So in howling wind on our bucking bronco of a sailboat, we pulled up anchor and crawled our way forward about 75 yards to re-hook. Anchoring after dark in busy seas and high winds near poorly charted reefs, while Dave's bandage filled with saltwater, was not fun. 

But after our experiences in Suwarrow, we were thankful to have ground tackle at all. And we realized, after that experience, this was tame in comparison. We were happy with our choice to stay in 'O'ua. Though the night was uncomfortable and sleepless, it was safe.

Tapa drying around the yards in 'O'ua

'O'ua has one small shop for nonperishable staples.
Locals grow all of their fresh food on the island.

Not a comfortable night

De Novo, from Migration's POV

Note: Thank you to our friends on SV Migration for taking some of these pictures and videos.

A Change of Plans

The next morning, we followed our meandering track out of 'O'ua's reef and sailed back to Lifuka. With the storm behind us, the next weather window to New Zealand was here, and we assumed we'd quickly check out of the country and meet up with friends leaving from Vava'u out there.

That didn't happen.

On the way back, our steering felt a little stiff. We've felt stiff steering before, but it was more pronounced now. Once we were anchored off Pangai's harbour, Dave dove to inspect the rudder. From the water, it all looked fine. Next, we took turns crawling under the lazarette to inspect our steering cable and rudder pedestal post. Dave noticed that with every wave, our rudder post wobbled, not a good sign. On closer inspection, our bushing was basically worn through. Whatever happened in O'ua shifted the post and revealed the worn bushing. Without knowing if it fully caused our stiff steering, I worried about our steering cables as well. 

Reality set in. We knew we wouldn't sail to New Zealand this year. It was already late October, and we'd be missing the last window before the cyclone season. After our friends lost their rudder in the open ocean the season before, we didn't want to take any chances. To fully diagnose and fix the issue(s), we would need to haul out and drop the rudder. We contacted our new friend Vai, who happened to work with the Vava'u Volunteer Maritime Response Association, among other maritime projects. She got us in touch with the boatyard that evening. They could fit us in once we returned to Vava'u. 

But we would need to get there. So we checked out of Ha'apai once again, making our way north instead of south. The seas were still churned up from the storm, and we were nervous every moment of the way. We hand-steered to take the pressure from the windvane off and kept our emergency rudder, emergency tiller, and spare steering cables in the cockpit, just in case. All of these are nearly impossible to attach in foul seas, so we prayed to 'Aho'eitu that nothing would fail.

We relaxed our shoulders once we made it back to the familiar waters of Neiafu. We hauled out and inspected it carefully. Alan, the owner and skilled boatwright from The Boatyard Vava'u, found the same problems we did. Fortunately, they could secure De Novo for the cyclone season while sourcing materials from New Zealand and fabricating a new bushing in his metal shop. 

Vava'u Boatyard is a phenomenal yard for both professional work and cyclone storage. We recommend it without hesitation. But we'll get more into that in the next post: The Kingdom of Tonga: Season 2. This post is already long enough!

While we were initially disappointed to not continue on to New Zealand, our disappointment was short-lived. We know we made the right choice staying in Vava'u. Not only did we prevent a serious emergency at sea, but we would start the next season already in the Kingdom of Tonga, which was already feeling like home. 

Back in the protected waters of Vava'u
Its tentacles scooped us up and brought us right back.

De Novo getting a well-earned break on land at The Boatyard: Vava'u...

...Where she would be completely safe for the cyclone season.
After this cradle was built for her, she was strapped down to multiple 1-ton cement blocks buried underground. Cliffs surround the yard from winds on three sides. The Boatyard Vava'u is a solid place to leave a boat during the cyclone season.     

If you've made it this far, malo apito for reading our blog. Please watch for The Kingdom of Tonga: Season Two, hopefully soon!

'Ofa Atu, Denise and Dave 💛