Tokelau

10th – 17th November 2004

We arrived after a blissful voyage from Apia – calm seas almost all the way but with sometimes not quite enough wind to push us on.  In between motoring, we would heave to and plunge into the deliciously blue water, such a treat to the senses after being couped up in Apia Harbour for a month with its uninviting murkiness.  The night before arriving we danced on deck beneath moon, stars and raised sails, to celebrate Heather’s birthday and our return to life at sea.

Tokelau, which means north, is a country made up of three atolls, about 350 miles south of western Samoa.  There is a fourth atoll further to the north, Swains Island, which has been claimed by the USA.  New Zealand holds sovereignty over Tokelau and contributes substantially in financial aid to the islanders. We were to spend just a week here – to explore their reef and to make contact with the islanders as our expedition leads us to more remote parts of the South Pacific.  We chose to stop at Atafu island since we had been told there was a mooring buoy where we could safely tie off.  There is no anchorage possible at the other two islands – Fakaofo and Nukunonu.

Within minutes of securing ourselves to the buoy, a fisherman arrived to trade freshly caught skipjack tuna for something useful.  We were instantly duped into thinking this was an isolated culture with little use for modern equipment…. until Michel returned from the atoll where he had met with the elders to explain the purpose of our visit.  He described the satellite dishes, the internet access, the aluminium boats, the outboard engines – all the modern conveniences of the western world.  But there were also signs of centuries-old island living too.   We were given a pandanus fruit to chew on for the afternoon. 

the 'main road' along the island of Atafu

The following days were spent in island bliss.  We dived continuously up and down the west side of the atoll – but with easterly winds we were unable to explore the other side.  The men warned of fierce sharks and rough waters over there, and being on the windward side, the life below would have been much richer than we were seeing around the ship.  But we were delighted to see many signs of a healthy reef system and certainly, enough of a protein source to feed the 500 or so that live on Atafu. 

There were plenty of fish including blacktip, whitetip and grey reef sharks, swarms of napoleon wrasses, great barracuda, groupers.  There were many turtles in the waters.  The corals themselves are reasonably healthy although there are large areas that show heavy storm damage (Tokelau has been hit by cyclones – and we were told of how the waves can rise up to wash over the entire atoll).  But the water temperature was consistently 30°C and there were already visible signs of bleaching.  If the temperature remains this high for the summer season, there could be a bleaching event here. 

The supply boat that runs from Apia to the atolls with supplies and passengers arrived at the buoy a few days after we did.  We changed places - they tied to the buoy and we tied to their stern for the hours that it took them to unload their goods.  This felt like a big event – sacks of rice, onions, pallets of beer and sodas, tubs of ice cream and much more – all being lowered on a baby crane to a barge, driven to the dock and then carried around the island accordingly. 

We each made a wish for an experience we desired in Tokelau – they ranged from fishing with the islanders to weaving baskets with the older ladies and learning Tokelau-style massage techniques.  The islanders fulfilled our dreams, taking each of us by the hand and giving gracefully an experience that we will not forget. 

Lindsey weaves with Alyssa on the island

Some nights fishermen would come out from the island and tie off to our stern so they could concentrate on the task in hand.  Tokelau is an island of proud fishermen and they were very generous in sharing their catch with us.  We were frequently given gifts of fish from returning fishermen.  Tony, one of the younger generation of islanders and recently returned from New Zealand where he played professional rugby for teams such as the All Black Juniors, became a great friend of the crew.  He and his friends brought half the crew on an expedition across the lagoon to one of the motus for a pig spit roast.  He took Eddie and Michel into the lagoon for a spearfishing trip where they caught plenty of parrotfish, unicornfish and groupers. He took Michel and Marco out early one morning to show them the Tokelau technique for catching the small mackerel that they use for bait when catching tuna. 

Tony drives his small boat across the lagoon

There are actually as many Atafuans living in New Zealand or Australia as there are living on the atoll – which makes life on the island more manageable for those that stay behind.  But in a few weeks’ time, the population will double in size for a month or so as families reunite for Christmas celebrations.

The choir at the church sang on Sunday morning in all their glory and afterwards Joshua, the very friendly minister who is also a true believer in the ‘old’ ways of the island, invited us to a feast to celebrate an anniversary for the choir.  We sat on mats woven from pandanus under the shade of a pandanus thatched roof.  Freshly woven coconut palm baskets were laid in front of each of us, filled with pig, reef fish, taro, potato, a sweet mixture of shredded coconut and taro, plantains, bananas, the hearts of very mature coconuts – all roasted in an ‘umu’ underground oven.  There was enough in each basket to feed half of the crew so we returned to the ship laden with leftovers for our dinner that night.  Sundays are very quiet days on the island – nobody can do much at all apart from feed the pigs.  We made little noise ourselves on the ship, trying to keep our culture as closely aligned to theirs for the time that we were together. 

the gathering at the feast

The day after was a holiday for the island – with a cricket match involving most of the islanders in their turn.  Although it appeared to be very casual, there was a competitive edge running through the day.  Each of us visitors was asked to bat, most of us barely making contact between ball and rather peculiarly shaped bat.  The bowler responded appropriately to appalling batsmanship, slowing his bowl down more and more until the ball merely crawled along the ground towards the wicket, which ironically made it even harder to hit! 

Our return for all the hospitality we received on the island was in the form of a short theatre performance – we worked for a few days on some scenes that would represent something of our life on the Heraclitus and combined it with a slideshow to present to the village.  They gathered in the village’s meeting hall which also serves as the island’s church right now while the old one is demolished and rebuilt.  After an intermission in which Zak made animal balloons for the children, two teams of dancers began to perform for us.  The form was very like what we have seen in the Gilbertese community in Mbambanga, Solomon Islands – men gather around a plywood table that they bang like a drum while they sing.  The men and women dancers stand in lines and make very expressive gestures with their hands and arms.  The tempo increases as the song progresses, the drumming beats faster and the gestures become more intense.  Each team took it in turns to perform, then they began to invite our crew into their teams, beginning with Michel until we were all on stage with them!  The laughter rang out for the following hour as the teams continued to out-dance each other.  It was a beautiful evening – both an exchange and an integration of cultural identities. 

Heraclitus from the island

We had planned to depart Tokelau on the Thursday, but on Tuesday night the Tokelau supply boat returned – it drifted offshore during the night but we did our dance around the mooring buoy again after sunrise.  We made a decision to leave a day early – the winds were a little undecided and there was something calling us back out to sea.  Michel announced our departure on the island and the elders called us in for a farewell meeting – words were exchanged to express gratitude from all of us to our hosts for the experiences we had shared together.  We ate our last kai-kai with them – a delicious pig roast stew.  We tied up our loose ends on land – tearful goodbyes for some, last minute cyber communications for others, plus music and image exchanges and final gift givings and gift receivings. 

The weather was flighty – grey skies and uncertain winds – and as we were in the throes of departing, Philippo, captain of the Tokelau boat, called to us that the winds were about to shift to the west and we had better cast ourselves loose.  We sent the zodiac into the island for the last time to pick up Joshua, the minister, who had asked to come out to the Heraclitus to give us blessings for our voyage.  He arrived with coconuts and bananas – it’s a Tokelau tradition to give gifts to departing visitors.  We gathered in a circle around the binnacle – he gave us a traditional Tokelau sendoff, placing shell necklaces around our necks that his wife had made during the night for each of us.  He talked about the importance of unity among us, the crew living together in such a small space and for such a long time in our journeys ahead.  He made a call to the sea that he has been passed from his ancestors –in his language with an urgent tone of voice, asking to Moana for our safe passage to the Phoenix Islands.  He then prayed for us.  And with that, he left and we headed out to see to raise our sails and set our course northwards. 

One of the elders had said to Michel that Tokelau had the desire to be modernized without being westernized.  In Papua New Guinea we met with the concept of the kula ring – a ‘trading ring’ around the Trobriand Islands where we were taught a few of the intricacies of the ‘art of gift giving and gift receiving’.  We talked then of a planetary kula ring – here in Tokelau, we expanded our kula ring, although it’s possible that we received more than we gave.

Tokelau Dive Log