The Central Pacific - Pacific Crossing Notes: A Sailor's Guide to the Coconut Milk Run - page 311

Sailing the Vava'u Group
Firm in our resolve to overindulge in sailing at its best, Markus, nine-year-old-Nicky, and I
made a quick, two-day turnaround after our arrival in Neiafu, the administrative capital of
Vava'u. The next week went by in a flurry of maneuvers since no two anchorages in
Vava'u, it seems, can be connected by a straight line. Our sloop romped through the watery
maze like a frisky pony set loose in an aquamarine pasture, throwing in twists and turns
just for the sheer joy of the movement. The route we followed on the first day traced an up-
side down J; day two drew an uneven letter U. Day three saw us covering a mere nine
miles on a route shaped like a bent fish hook, with a downwind leg, a beam reach, and fi-
nally an alpine ascent of zigzag tacks. The wind, blowing a steady Force 4 or 5, came in
three flavors: northeast, east, and southeast. The sky was blue, and thanks to a long line of
reefs on the windward side of Vava'u, the water was flat. We were happy, relaxed, and
eager for more.
Reinforcing our emphasis on sailing was the fact that many of the established anchorages
are best known by number references, due to a scheme invoked by the Moorings charter
base that has (sadly) stuck, at least among the cruising community. So we zipped from an-
chorage number six to neighboring number seven, skipped right over to eleven, and then
made our way to a true gem, number thirty. Which isn't to say that we ignored the
shoreside charms of Tonga. On the contrary, we had a wonderful variety of experiences: at-
tending a church service near Mala Island, where the congregation sang gorgeous, vowel-
rich hymns at the top of their lungs; collecting our fill of ripe, juicy mangoes on a long
walk from Tapana; snorkeling among plump, indigo starfish at Port Morelle; and trading
colored pencils for bananas in a peaceful village on Kapa. Since education is a national pri-
ority in Tonga and English is emphasized, we were able to converse freely with locals
whose lives, like ours, are defined and delineated by the water.
Our most glorious day sail in Vava'u came when we weighed anchor in Tapana and set
course for Kenutu Island on the less visited eastern fringe of Vava'u: three miles as the
crow flies, but fifteen over the shortest water route. With tacks, Namani covered twenty-
three miles that day as we eyeballed our way around green islets resting like so many wal-
lowing sea turtles, each with a golden, sandy ring encircling its shell. We even found
ourselves enjoying two hours of tacking into the easterly wind. Maybe all that tropical sun
was getting to us, after all.