Mark and Kurt went with Liahona to check out the nearby motu (an island inside the coral reef) as a possible spot to snorkel. They took their spear gun to fish and Liahona took their hookah to facilitate the diving. When they came back at the end of the day, they had not speared any fish and the diving had to be cancelled because the wind and current was too strong.
Andy and I went to Niuatoputapu to see if we could find a hike. A woman named Sia had contacted the yachts on the radio earlier in the day to invite all the yachties to a free lunch tomorrow on the motu so we sought her out as a possible source of information. We found her house after asking some villagers and discovered a very sweet lady who spoke English very well. She and her husband moved here in 1996 and discovered that the island people did not do too much for the yachties (probably because of limited English) so they decided to try to provide a proactive welcome. She told us there was a good hike along the ridge that occupied the center of the island and her kids would show us the path. Two 11-year olds (one was her brother's son) and a 10 year old brother eagerly agreed to lead us. Her 11-year old son had won the English competition this year so she was also eager to have him accompany us and practice his English.
We set out up a dirt road that traversed through several plantations of taro, banana, yams, papaya and mangos. At the end of the road, a path led into a thick forest and soon we were scrambling on all fours up a very steep bank, holding onto the trees for purchase. After 45 minutes, we arrived at the first of several overlooks. From this vantage, we could see both sides of the island and the village containing the harbor.
We hiked along the ridge for most of the next hour and at one point we heard voices calling us. Before long, we were joined by three other 11-year old boys who were friends of our guides. The footing was slippery in the forest so all six boys shed their flip-flops and were walking barefoot proving the well-known fact that Tongans have feet of steel.
Over the next 45 minutes we came to several overlooks (read cliffs) with views of the other two villages on the island. The boys pointed out their school and several churches including the Catholic Church that they attended. Throughout the walk, they kept asking us if we were OK and if we wanted to rest. I felt their concern was very genuine and also found it unusual for boys this age.
At the end of the ridge, we came to a cliff. The boys asked if we were afraid to go further but we felt if they could do it, we could so we pushed on. The first vertical drop was scaled by climbing over the edge of a slippery ledge and grabbing the branch of a tree that grew from two stories below. By shinnying down the tree, we made it to the next level. Four more drop-offs followed and each one was a test of courage (or stupidity) and athleticism. No wonder they asked us if we were afraid. We were.
Finally four hours after we started, we emerged from the forest into the third town on the island. The boys took us to a fresh water spring where we had a much needed swim in the cool, refreshing water. They took turns jumping in from the side and we all had great fun.
On the walk back to the boat, we passed a small grocery store. Actually it was a house with one tiny room in the front with shelves and a meager supply of goods for sale. We bought sodas for the boys and some cheese puffs. The woman who ran the store spoke excellent English so we asked what we should give the boys for their help. She told us that we had already done enough for them and that the boys were remarking in Tongan how generous we were. During our conversation, she asked where we were from and when I said California, she told me her brother lives in Palo Alto. Of course! We travel half way around the world to find an isolated island in the Pacific with 900 people on it and meet a small shopkeeper who has been to Palo Alto. Why not? I had just finished a book and watched a movie that talked about coincidence so I was read for this one.
We finally returned to the boat tired and dirty but happy and enjoyed one more feast of fresh tuna. Life is sometimes sweet.
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