Vava'u to Nukualofa to pick up J and L

Hunga Lagoon and entrance, outer Vava’u – very narrow, very shallow, very scary.

All the people of Hunga Village in funeral attire walking to their cemetary.
The road was built with aid from India and, while, in my view it’s an over-the-top contruction complete with footpaths and low walls on both sides, it is a boon to the village who now don’t have to contend with a perpetually slippery mud track.
We had been invited to watch the rugby on their communal satelite tv and then to attend one of their 5 churches (village population is 300) on the following day. But a death in the village took precedence. We could hear singing all through the night and in the morning most of the village gathered for the burial.

Three of these extraordinary vessels sailed into Neiafu to a rousing welcome with much song and dance. They had sailed from NZ via Tahiti and Samoa using Polynesian navigation methods. Quite a special site. These are smaller replicas of the traditional vayaging waka which were larger, could carry more people, sail faster and better to windward than any of the European ships of the era.

Kelefesia in the Ha’apai Group. Quite the most perfect South Seas island we’ve visited. Very remote, breathtakingly beautiful, spectacular coral and tropical fish with under water visibilty to die for.

Just enough room in the lagoon for 2 or 3 boats.

Coconut and water melon

daiquiri – yum!!

Three traditional outrigger canoes and other evidence of periodic occupation on the north of this tiny island. There was a wary dog that looked fed so the people can’t have been too far away.

No trouble for Lily. The locals were impressed.

A modestly loaded boat with plenty of free board. You should see the others - Pangaimotu, near Nukualofa.

In Nukualofa we attended this feast of the Free Wesleyan Church conference. There were just 3 or 4 other palangi there among the 1000 or so at this enormous gathering. We were strongly encouraged to attend by all the locals we knew who said it would be an honour to have palangi at their table. We had no idea what to expect nor how to conduct ourselves but took the risk. We were culturally out of our depth and Lily and Jackson were completely at sea. After much speech making the tables filled so quickly we could find no space for the four of us. I eventually identified the ushers, one of whom simply had a space for us vacated which left us seriously uncomfortable. Having taken the decision to attend I figured the only thing to do was to get it wrong ‘til we got it right and put up with the discomfort.

So we took the seats offered. The tables, perhaps 30 of them, were groaning with the weight of food of every Tongan variety. There were no plates or cutlery and awful cheap soft drinks. After grace it was all on. Our table had perhaps 6 whole roast piglets which, to the kids horror, were dismembered by hand with gusto and passed around. Janet and I were game to sample most dishes but Lily and Jackson had more trouble. Someone had the presence of mind to offer them an apple each – food they could recognise and that’s all Lily managed to swallow. Jackson was a little more adventurous but both needed a meal when we got back to Navire. I think their verdict was “that was weird but worth it.”
At the close of the meal ten or more of these exquisite tapa (gnatoo in Tongan) cloths were presented.