Text: Heidrun Bader/Water Nomads
Hmm, that will be interesting. What have we got here? An inflatable WindSUP, with both the rear and centre fins broken off, on an uninhabited island in Vava'u, Tonga. At least the two fins are still there, I didn't lose them completely. It was just a light touch with a coral bomber, I thought it was deeper. I'm clearly not used to surfing in tropical climes! How on earth are we going to fix it and get it going again? It's our only means of transport, the only way to get away from here, because we can't squeeze two of us onto one board. With all the equipment on board, they barely float! There might not even be mobile phone reception here to book a water taxi to pick us up!
It's the second day of our trip and we're already stuck
At least we have food and water for a few days and plenty of coconut palms growing on the island. We should be able to survive for a few days. It's the second day of our 2-week boardpacking trip around Vava'u, and we're already stuck. But how did we get here? And what are we actually doing here?
Plan C
After our Maui holiday a year earlier, I wanted another tropical holiday, but this time with a bit more adventure. The Tongan archipelago of Vava'u was the perfect place to explore, preferably by sea kayak. Sea kayaks offer enough storage space to be independent for a few weeks and can also withstand reasonably rough weather. They are also small and inconspicuous enough to travel unnoticed if we end up in places we shouldn't be. They also have no draught, so there are no problems with reefs or grounding, and you can land almost anywhere and pull them onto the beach. The only problem was getting a kayak to Vava'u. It is impossible. And it's also impossible to hire one without a guide. So we had to come up with a plan B.
The logical plan B would have been to charter a small yacht. They are readily available. However, neither of us is a boatman and we didn't feel like starting out in an area with lots of reefs and shallows. So plan C was hatched.
We had access to two inflatable wind SUPs. Not the cheap basic SUPs, but a couple of nice 11'2″ Starboard Touring SUPs with a centre fin that, according to the brochure, allows you to "surf into the wind". Plus a simple rig and a paddle for windless days. Great! They would fit on the plane from New Zealand to Tongatapu, the main island of Tonga. From there we would take the ferry to Vava'u (as the small domestic planes would not be able to carry the boards, our luggage and the rigs), and then our boardpacking adventure could begin! Three weeks of surfing and SUPing, exploring uninhabited islands. We would be unsupported and completely independent, drinking coconuts and finding wild papaya trees. Sounds fantastic! What could possibly go wrong?
We planned and prepared our trip thoroughly: Map? Check! It was true to scale, showed (possibly) all the islands with their names, and there were even some reefs marked! We weren't too reliant on a proper nautical chart, as our boards only have a draught of less than 30 centimetres. We won't have any problems with reefs - or so we thought.
Packaging test? Check! We have enough dry bags for everything we want to take with us. Tent, cooker, sleeping bags, etc. We plan to travel as light as possible as we need a few supplies to be independent for 2-3 weeks. Drinking water in particular will be hard to come by. But with coconut water that shouldn't be a problem - after all, we are in the tropics.
Do the boards still float with all the gear on board? We tested them on a calm winter's day in Auckland harbour in a quiet area, and yes, they still float. And there's even room to stand! We didn't try them out windsurfing - we didn't want to embarrass ourselves in front of everyone. She'll be fine, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it.
It takes some getting used to - Tonga Time
A month later, we were on a plane to Tonga. Tonga is a breathtaking experience where "Tonga time" very quickly becomes a reality. The more you try to speed things up, the longer it takes, we learnt that very quickly.
Our plan was to take the ferry from Tongatapu (the main island of Tonga) to Vava'u, as the inflatable WindSUPs, rigs and general luggage were too big to fit on the small domestic aircraft. When we arrived, however, we realised that the ferry was no longer fit to sail after it had run aground on a reef the week before and lost a rudder somewhere. And so we set off to join a yacht (150 nautical miles). It took us a while to organise this. Most of the boats either didn't have room or were planning a longer stay halfway round the Ha'apai archipelago. Eventually we managed to get a lift on the Okeanos Aotearoa, a traditional waka steered by Captain Aunufo and her crew of three young men.
Nothing happens on Sunday on Tonga, Sunday is reserved for church and family
Our departure day was scheduled for Sunday at 12 noon. That was a somewhat unusual time, because nothing really happens on a Sunday in Tonga. No shops are open, no restaurants, nothing. On Sundays you are not allowed to work, play sport, go swimming or cycle. Sundays are reserved for church, eating and spending time with the family. But well, maybe travelling falls under a different rule.
So on Sunday we arrived at the boat in the late morning - there was nobody there. 12 o'clock came and went, still nobody there. At 2pm one of the guys arrived, but he didn't speak any English. But we were now able to get our equipment on the boat (promising!) and still waited. And waited. And waited. By 5pm, most of the crew were on board, but no one was making any moves to cast off. The cultural and language barrier didn't make it any easier to find out what was going on - we didn't want to be rude and impatient. We had the impression that Aunufo was keen to set off to take advantage of the favourable wind and good weather, but nothing happened. At dusk, we finally found out what the problem was: you weren't allowed to drive even on a Sunday, and 12 o'clock, our departure time, was scheduled for midnight! But as soon as the lights went out, we broke the rules and snuck out of the harbour under cover of darkness at 9 pm.
The two nights and two days on Okeanos were an unforgettable experience. We were a full part of the crew, ate with them and shared the watches. Bevan was with one of the (more experienced) boys who didn't speak English and I kept watch with Aunufo. Three hours watch, six hours off. The two other, less experienced boys took the third shift. After an overnight trip, we reached Ha'apais at dawn and spent the day navigating through stunning tropical islands with white sandy beaches and palm trees. The way tropical islands should look. Occasionally, humpback whales would appear alongside the boat and keep us company for a while.
As it is a traditional waka, everything on board was manual. Yes, there was a small (solar-powered) engine for emergencies and a GPS for navigation, but these instruments were only there for support. The rudder was a long tiller that had to be operated constantly, no autopilot and no automatic steering. You had to have your hands full for every manoeuvre and every sail adjustment, because there were no winches, only wooden blocks to secure the sail once it was adjusted. That night we had another stretch of open water in front of us. The starry sky was simply incredible. No light around us, no sound except the boat moving slowly northwards.
Tonga - Fortresses made of rock
The next morning we reached the first islands of Vava'u. However, the excitement quickly turned into shock: these islands were not at all what we had expected! 20 metre high, vertical rock faces that rose out of the sea like mushrooms. How on earth were we supposed to land and camp on these islands? We also knew that if we wanted to switch between paddling and windsurfing, we might need a beach to set up the sails.
The good news was that not all of these islands were rocky fortresses, only about half. The bad news was that our map didn't show which islands were sandy, and there was no easy way to find out except to go there and see! But what's the point of an adventure if there are no problems to solve. We docked in Neiafu harbour and found a hostel for the night. The next morning we made something of a plan and stocked up on food and water for a fortnight (or what we thought would be enough for a fortnight, supplemented by coconuts and papaya that we would find on the islands).
We waited until the morning shower had passed before collecting our luggage from Okeanos and setting off to pack our things. It was time to take everything over the hill to the Old Harbour on the east side of Neiafu. The prevailing winds in Tonga at this time of year are usually from the south-east. As we didn't know whether our boards would actually run into the wind while windsurfing, it seemed logical to start our journey as far east as possible. In a quiet bay, watched by a few curious locals, we packed our tent, a cooker and a few T-shirts into dry bags, pumped up our boards and set off into the unknown on our two-week exploration tour of the archipelago. The sun came out and there was no wind when we started paddling. As soon as we had left the first headland behind us, we realised that there was actually wind - a fresh headwind blowing directly into our faces! Unfortunately, we weren't sure if the boards would even run into the wind, and as we didn't have a beach to switch to sailing mode anyway, we had to brace ourselves and paddle into the wind.
We finally reached the island of Mafana, where we found a beach where we rigged our sails for the first time. We hoped to make it to the island of Ofu with a few tacking turns against the wind. I set off and was surprised at how well the board ran downwind. Having all the luggage on board was a bit of a hassle, but nothing that 30 years of windsurfing experience couldn't handle. Bevan, on the other hand, had only learnt to windsurf two years earlier. It took him a while to get comfortable with the fact that he couldn't move around on the board without risking it going into submarine mode, or having to jump over a huge bag of luggage at every tack.
Low blow thanks to draught
Day 2, destination Kenutu Island. Uninhabited and rugged, on the western edge of Vava'u. The weather was a bit wet and gusty, fitting for the wild destination. We paddled off to get out of the shelter of Ofu Island. A small uninhabited island north of Ofu was a welcome stopover to switch from paddling to windsurfing. There were plenty of coconuts everywhere - the investment of ten dollars in a machete and learning how to open a coconut had already paid off. As we approached Kenutu Island under sail, we found ourselves in a maze of coral bombers, some of which were less than 30 centimetres below the surface. Well, we thought they were deeper, but I found out the true depth by cutting off both my fins. It's only the second day and we're now stranded on an uninhabited island on the very edge. Is our adventure over before it has really begun?
So we were faced with the challenge of how to repair an inflatable WindSUP on an uninhabited island? Well, it's actually a lot easier than you might think. All you need is the following:
- A cordless drill
- One 6 mm stainless steel screw and one nut
- Some string
Although the island was uninhabited, the Black Hawk, a cruise yacht, was fortunately anchored in the bay. She was about to leave, but we managed to get her attention in time for Paul to help us with the repairs. 30 minutes and a stainless steel screw later, both fins were back in place. Somehow. I wasn't too confident in the integrity of the rear fin, so I tied it down with the string as well. And as long as I could hear the line humming in the water over the next few days, I knew I hadn't lost the fin, at least not yet! We spent the rest of the day exploring the island. Kenutu is a barrier island at the eastern end of Vava'u, with steep cliffs dropping into a rough sea. We were glad that our adventure playground was protected by such islands and reefs and that the water between the islands was relatively tame.
The next morning we headed upwind towards the southern tip of Ofu Island, where we could see a nice sandy beach to land on. Black Hawk had warned us of many shallow reefs, and the 15 knot winds made for so much swell that they were obvious. After yesterday's experience, we stayed away from them! Launching and landing the WindSUPs is always a bit of a challenge: unlike a kayak, which you can pull onto the beach and then unload (if you want to), we had to load and unload the boards in knee-deep water because of the fins. We always had to watch out for the poisonous stonefish.
After a lunch break, we travelled on to Tapana, crossed (just) some very shallow reefs and set up camp on a beautiful beach on the south side. A beautiful ketch - Silverlynx - was anchored in the bay. Curious, we sailed over to say hello. Of course, we could have paddled over after setting up camp, but sailing and manoeuvring there with a fully loaded board is just so much more fun! Years of taking part in raceboard regattas have paid off. It didn't take long for us to make friends with the nice American family on board who were travelling the world.
The day before on Kenutu Island, some rats had got into our bags. We therefore had to replenish our meagre food supplies. The village of Pangai was a good 30-minute walk from the beach, and there wasn't much to buy in the local shop apart from huge chunks of frozen pork. Still better than nothing. That evening we cooked a big meal on Silverlynx using our frozen pork and some of their supplies. It was a great evening, with lots of stories and adventures told.
After another day exploring the island of Tapana, the south-easterly wind came back and blew straight into our little campsite. Time to move on! Our printout of a Google satellite map showed that there was only one house on Euakafa. There would be enough space here for us to find some coconuts and papaya trees and live the Robinson life! So we chose it as our next destination. Bypassing Taunga, it was a distance of about ten kilometres, the longest crossing of an open body of water we had ever made.
The wind direction was perfect for reaching our destination with a light beam reach, even if the 20 knots of wind were perhaps a little too much for these boards and with all the luggage.
It was an absolutely amazing crossing: deep blue water, steady wind, lots of fun steering the boards through the (surprisingly large) open swell. As we approached Euakafa, we saw a shipyard sticking out at the northern end. It looks like a holiday resort, maybe we could get a cold drink and a bit of luxury there! As we waded through the shallow water, a couple of guys waved and shouted to us from further up the beach. When we asked what they wanted, it turned out that they were asking us not to land in the resort. Apparently the owner of the resort was a bit weird and didn't like guests. His dogs would come and get one. We were invited to stay with Brett at his Blue House instead.
The next few days on Euakafa are some of my favourite memories of the trip. Cosy days chatting with Brett, who had moved here from Australia a few years earlier, and exploring the island. He leased the land (in Tonga, foreigners can only lease land, not buy it) and built his Blue House all by himself. That is, together with his Aussie Shepard dogs, Diesel and Willow. He used to have more dogs, but some of them were shot by the neighbour, others were eaten by Tongans (so Brett says - only he knows if it's true).
We began to realise that our original idea of our adventure was very different from the reality. We had expected to get away from it all, to explore uninhabited islands, to be very remote and self-sufficient. Now we were constantly meeting people, but in retrospect it was precisely these encounters that made the trip so special. Everyone we met had a story to tell.
We had expected to get away from it all, to explore uninhabited islands, to be very remote and self-sufficient. Now we were constantly meeting people
Everything has an end - even in Tonga
All good things come to an end, and we soon ran out of days to catch our return flights to Neiafu, so we had to move on. Our next destination was Mounu Island. The distance from Euakafa to Mounu Island is about five kilometres, and we weren't quite sure which island we should actually head for. Never mind, we'll find out when we get closer!
We both set off, as always in slightly different directions. Bevan, the Kiwi, wasn't at all worried about whether he should stay within sight of the other. But I was now sure of the right route. Eventually I found myself on a rocky coastline that didn't really look like a holiday island. It looked rather empty. I quickly realised that I was far too far north and needed to head further south to Mounu. However, I couldn't see Bevan at all. I knew he had disappeared somewhere to the south, but there was no red sail on the horizon, and certainly not anywhere near our destination. I began to worry about him. After all, he wasn't a particularly experienced windsurfer! I drove around for a while trying to spot him, fearing the worst: had his board burst and sunk due to the weight of the base plate, leaving him with a couple of dry bags floating around him? None of the whale-watching boats I asked had seen him. I dropped my bags on the (real) Mounu Island and set off on a rescue mission - when suddenly he came round the corner! As I had sailed too far north, he sailed too far south and had to navigate through a reef to a sandy island. He lost his bags and had to tie everything back together more or less elegantly.
I started to worry about him. After all, he wasn't a particularly experienced windsurfer!
As we only had a few days left until our return flight, we really had to make our way to Neiafu now. We had a big day ahead of us, where we wanted to windsurf past Sisia Island to Nuku Island and then on to Port Maurelle. Nuku is also known as Picnic Island as many beach events are held here for dignitaries - the perfect place for our lunch break!
After lunch, we switched from sailing to paddling. If we came into the lee of Kapa Island, the wind would no longer be so strong for us. The plan was to get as far as possible that day, because the next day would be a long paddle to Neiafu. The last possible campsite before the coast turned into steep cliffs was Port Maurelle, a popular spot for cruising yachts, where we pitched our tent.
We joined a group of sailors who had anchored in the bay and enjoyed dinner and a campfire. There were more great stories to hear! That night was the last time we heard the rats chewing on the coconuts outside our tent.
Our last day on the water was to be a long day of paddling, as we weren't expecting any wind (or at least none from the right direction) in Neiafu.
Shortly after we set off, the beach turned into vertical cliffs, 50-100 metres high, which fell away steeply under water. It was like paddling in an aquarium. The water was this dark blue colour and super clear, and you could see loads of fish doing their thing underneath you. There wasn't a breath of wind. We paddled on and came to Swallowers Cave, which we explored bit by bit.
We then rounded the northern tip of Kapa Island and travelled the long stretch along the channel to Neiafu. We took a final lunch break on Lotuma, a former military island just outside Neiafu harbour. Conveniently, we can land at the quay and don't have to unload the boards. The view from the watchtower is breathtaking! We can even see the Silverlynx leaving the harbour and try to call them on the VHF to wish them a safe journey, but they can't hear us.
The next day we took the flight to Tongatapu and then back to Auckland. With the waiting times between flights, it seemed to take forever. By the time we reached New Zealand, we were exhausted and Vava'u seemed like an eternity.
Learning by doing
What would we do differently next time? Not very much. But a few things:
- Improve dry bags (PVC roll top) - surprisingly our dry bags that we normally use in our kayaks didn't work so well when they were constantly under water. For this type of application you need the heavy duty PVC bags.
- The adhesive fastenings for lashing the bags to the deck do not stick under real load. We should have welded them together. In the end, however, it worked to wrap the lashing rope directly around the board, although it did affect the performance somewhat.
- Cotton clothes are hopeless, everything gets salty and never dries.
- Rats don't just eat coconuts. Hanging our food bag on a tree helps
- Perhaps a larger inflatable board would be better, the 11'6" Touring was half submerged when fully loaded.
About the author:
Heidrun Bader grew up on Lake Constance and moved to New Zealand in 2011, where she now runs the water sports hire business together with her husband Bevan. Water Nomads operates.
