You Live Here?

We awoke to find one of God’s most perfect days. The skies are beautiful and the air is warm. There are great winds for sailing and we’re going to take advantage of them. We don’t waste a moment getting things together and preparing to get underway. By 0830 we have pulled up the anchor and are heading north to Ha’afeva. It’s a remote island with just a few people living on it so we’re hoping to get a chance to get to know some of the villagers.

With the anchor up it’s time to hoist the mainsail. Dan begins working the lines as I turn Dazzler into the wind. Within minutes the sail is flying, we’ve cut the engine and we’re sailing along at 5.5 knots. Ahhh! Now THIS is living! The only sound is the wind and the sea as we cruise through the electric blue waters looking at the many beautiful islands all around us.

The trip to Ha’afeva is just about four hours. We near the island and find three other boats anchored there. One just happens to be SV Manna. We met Curtis and Julie in the Marquesas but never really got a chance to spend time with them and here they are some 4000 NM away from there. It’s crazy how we cruisers seem to meet up in some of the most remote corners of the world.

The water here is really clear and the anchorage is perfect. We radio over to Curtis and Julie and they tell us they are going to be heading to shore to meet one of the villagers. He’s going to give them a tour of the island and take them to meet his family. Dan asks if it’s okay for us to tag along and they agree.

We put the dinghy in the water and a couple of hours later it’s time to go ashore. We pick up our friends along the way and as we approach the wharf we see a young Tongan man standing there beside a wheelbarrow. He’s not a big guy at all, maybe 5’6” with a smallish build. He has black curly hair that stops at his shoulders. He’s very dark skinned and has a wonderful, kind smile.

He shows us where to tie up the dink along the dilapidated concrete wharf and we all climb up the stonewall to greet him. We introduce ourselves and the kind young man tells us his name is Lotu. It means “prayer” in Tongan. His eyes are brownish green and just a bit glassy. Maybe he’s been into the Kava this morning. But that’s not important now.

After the introductions are complete Lotu begins using his machete to open up four coconuts. He offers one to each of us. They are large and fairly heavy and the hole he creates is not all that great for drinking so we all seem to spill some of the sweet nectar down our shirts as we enjoy Lotu’s kind gift.

He has other treats in his wheelbarrow as well. There’s tiny red, hot peppers, lemons and oranges. He brought them for Julie & Curtis as he had met them earlier in the day.

We drink as much of the coconut water as we can before it’s time to move on with the tour. I was pretty cautious about drinking too much. You may or may not know that coconut water is a very good, fast acting laxative. That said I certainly didn’t want to find myself somewhere on this remote island looking for a tree and a banana leaf.

Before we start the tour Dan offers Lotu a gift of Kava. It’s a root Tongans grind up into a powder. They mix it with water and drink it. It’s said to have some intoxicating affects. We bought a whole kilo of it in Vava’u last year. It’s something you offer to the chiefs of the islands as a gift for allowing you to visit. I tried it once and it made me sleep pretty good but it tastes like I would imagine dirty sock water would taste. I think I’ll stick to vodka or beer. Lotu smiled big as Dan handed over the packet of ground Kava.

Lotu speaks some English. It’s not perfect by any stretch but we are able to communicate rather easily. He takes us on walk down the beach. The coral sand is warm and a little rough and in some places you sink down to your ankles. It’s definitely good exercise. A few minutes into our hike and Lotu stops, picks up a coconut and cracks it open with his machete. He gives us each pieces of the fresh coconut inside. There’s nothing like fresh coconut!

After walking about ten more minutes down the beach we come to a small opening in the trees. Lotu walks up and points to the trail so we all follow him. At this point I can’t help thinking that we are all pretty trusting. After all, a man we don’t know is carrying a machete and leading us into the jungle. We have no idea what awaits us in there and yet we just follow him like he’s the Pied Piper.

Of course I know my Dan and he’s watching every single move but still it’s a bit unnerving even though this young man seems so friendly. I mean it was just 8 years ago on the island of Nuka Hiva in the Marquesas that a German sailor was killed and assumed to be eaten by an islander. The man even tried to kill the sailor’s girlfriend after he coaxed her into following him into the woods saying that her boyfriend was hurt and needed help. Fortunately she got away and the murderer was caught but, of course, her life will never be the same.

As we continued through the jungle this story was sitting like a dark cloud in the back of my mind. I kept trying to push it away but it was there and it wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

A few minutes into the jungle Lotu stopped at a large tree. It was the biggest mango tree I’ve ever seen. Beside it was a very large orange tree as well. He picked up a couple of oranges and sliced them open for us. The fruit inside was very sweet with few seeds. The sticky juice covered our faces and hands. It felt as if we were living like locals as we stood there wiping our hands and faces on our shirts.

We continued on through the twisty turning paths under the shade of the giant trees and soon there was a large clearing. There were at least a dozen or so pigs ranging in size from small to extra jumbo! They were eating something off the ground but I couldn’t tell what it was.

Lotu’s wife Ata immediately greeted us. She seemed sweet and had a nice smile. Sitting on a blanket on the ground was Ata’s mother. She was older with gray hair, dark skin and a large, round belly. There were several children running about including a toddler who was literally covered in black dirt from the jungle floor. Lotu’s uncle was sleeping peacefully in a hammock that had been hung between two trees nearby.

A look deeper into the clearing revealed several makeshift shelters. They had no walls; merely a flat roof perched upon timbers that were stuck into the ground.  There was a small fire nearby. The smoke from coconut shells is supposed to help to keep the bugs at bay. I wanted so much to take a few photographs of this campsite that is home to these people but I was afraid of offending them. After all, I am a visitor in their home so I didn’t want to appear like the rude American tourist.

They were all very friendly and welcoming. It was very interesting to see how these people live here on this island. There’s no power, no running water or anything that even closely resembles a modern convenience. There’s no store on the island to buy anything at all so they eat what the land and sea provide. Their entire life revolves around survival, family and God. While we didn’t see it we heard there is a tiny church on the island as well.

They live out here exposed to all of the elements and yet they all smile and seem genuinely happy. And even more, they offer to share what little they have with complete strangers. It really makes you think about what’s important in life. It certainly isn’t all the things people of today’s society seem to covet. No, when I look at the people of these islands I am humbled and honored that we have been given the opportunity to get to know them and experience their culture.  Each new encounter changes us just a little bit more for the better.

Until next time,

Jilly & Dan

To read more about the killing of Stefin Remin, Click Here.

Author: Dan & Jilly

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