Tonga

Our 2004 sailing extravaganza took us to Tonga, where eight of us spent 10 days on an Oceanis 50'. The boat was an absolute beauty, quite luxurious and easy to sail. It went almost twice as fast as some of the previous boats we've had.

The only real drama this trip occurred 30 seconds after we cast off the first morning and fouled the mooring line in our propellor. Way to go!


The crew.	A beautiful coral-fringed island.

For the first time, we sailed with two people we had not met before: Julie and Tai. This turned out well as Julie was great company, and Tai, who had been born on the island that we sailed from (Vavau) bent over backwards to show us around and make the trip interesting. He demonstrated beyond reasonable doubt that there is nothing that cannot be achieved with coconuts.

Tonga is a laid back place. We flew in at 3am to find that our bags had been left behind. "Sorry, we didn't have room for them. They should arrive in a couple of days." Tai scrounged up some clothes for us, and to our surprise we did not even miss our three bags of luggage. This demonstrated how badly we tend to overpack, and we will bring a fraction of the stuff next time.


Into the Swallow's Cave.	Canoodling with Helen.

The sailing was different to previous trips as we mostly just hopped between the numerous beautiful islands. Land was always in sight, and we could usually see our targets directly. This was novel and a lot of fun.


Captain Helen Highwater.	Some of the lush greenery.	We saw many nuts hanging precariously from trees.

The only really gnarly sea-going we did was to navigate a nasty bit of reef to get around the main island so the girls could meet a friend at a pub on Friday night. But we had learnt from our close encounters with coral in Nouvelle Caledonie and zig-zagged through without further embarrassment. In fact, the most dangerous aspects of this leg of the journey were the treacherous anchorage we were forced to take, and the fact that Gary, the sleazy charter company manager who spent the entire time trying to crack onto the girls, wanted to follow them back from the pub onto the boat.


After two days we became known among the yachties as the "nude boat." I'll have to ask the girls if they know anything about this.	The naked lunch. The charter company failed to provide naked galley slaves, but luckily we'd brought our own.

Tai showed us how to fish the local waters, and most of us were soon hauling in the bounty of the sea. However I soon felt guilty after making friends with a school of curious yellow and blue spotted fish, then eating them one by one. Perhaps this is how vegetarians feel? In any event, Tai pulled in an impressive mackerel on the last day, and we had a delicious feast that night.


One of the many dangerous cannibals we encountered.	Tai's excellent fish.	Christy being hoisted up the mast to do some repairs.

I fell into the routine of not emerging from bed until my morning cup of coffee. This proved to be something of a catch 22 when the cooks eventually decided not to make coffee for anyone who was still in bed. At least I got lots of rest.


The brains behind the operation...	...we knew we were in safe hands.

We spent Sunday on a pair of islands looking for the Prince's beach party. Luckily the party did not occur, and we found that the smaller island boasted one of the most beautiful beaches imaginable.

While the young 'uns searched in vain, a few of us wandered up to a local church and sat in on the service. This was really something, with lots of loud and beautiful singing as bees buzzed overhead and dogs wandered through the congregation. It was hard to believe that the few Tongans we saw singing could fill the place with that much wonderful sound. There seemed to be a competitive element, as we could see a rival church on the next hill and could faintly hear them trying to outsing us between songs.


50% of commanding a crew's respect lies in projecting the right image.	Tai tries on the Hat of Power.

The sailing was fantastic. The winds came up each morning and most days we had constant 15-20 knot winds. One day we set the sails in the morning and didn't have to touch them all day, as the wind shifted slightly every couple of hours and kept pushing us along in the right direction. A one tack voyage - awesome!


The crew automatically test any boat for seaworthiness.	Amanda and Bernard contemplate the Pacific ocean.

We saw a few whales, mostly just shapes breaching on the horizon but a couple up close. On our third last evening, Helen suffered a dinghy-related injury and while recovering from being force fed pills by Amanda and Christy ("I've done this to my cat heaps of times") noticed a whale swimming next to us. Surprisingly we saw no dolphins this trip.


Arrr... there be sunlight.	This shot was a bit of a fluke. While we were all looking for whales out to sea, Helen spotted one right next to us towards land.

This was the biggest and definitely the rowdiest crew that we've sailed with. While generally good fun, after a week it was something of a relief to return to the relative tranquility of Brisbane.


Bernard, chef extraordinaire.	Helen swinging in Hunga.	"Hmmm... wonder how far I could get before they notice the boat's missing?"

Quote of the trip from Bernard: "You're all coconut talk, and no coconut action."


Julie and Tai.	Grrr...