Twas the week before Christmas that our adventure began as we stood in line to board a red and white boat named the Olovaha. Our first-class tickets obviously didn’t promise an easy time, at least not until we were aboard the vessel. It seemed as though the trip had been overbooked from the number of people on deck, people sticking their heads out of portholes, and those still frantically trying to get on. We were literally afraid of being crushed before even leaving Tongatapu! Boxes, food, and even babies were thrown to passengers on board across the water!
We took with us some clothes, games, food, bedding, and our bicycles (seven of them). Our bikes and one big suitcase were loaded inside the front of the boat, along with horses, pigs, goats, various baggages, and food. Safely aboard, we took our seasick pills and settled down in a comfortable little cabin with two bunk beds, table and chairs, and a bathroom conveniently across the hall. Also, we had bought tickets for the business area which had several benches, tables and a video.
A bellowing blast of farewell and we soon found ourselves miles away from our home and three years. Seven heads peered out of one porthole. When we looked straight up, we could see legs dangling from the people on the deck. An occasional bottle or banana peel barely missed our curious faces. When we came to the deeper ocean, the waves grew higher until the spray came in our cabin and we decided to take a nap. Later on, we ventured up on the deck, and grew to appreciate what first class meant on the Olovaha. People laid all over the surface of the boa, some sick, others struggling to keep dry, warm and calm despite the nauseating rock and roll of the boat. The wind was strong and the night black. A restless night for many….We felt very fortunate because for us the ocean seemed mild, and the ride was pleasant. Luckily, noone became ill as we played games, roamed about a bit and reclined as the boat rocked us to sleep.
About 2 o’clock am, the engines stopped, and we awoke to an ocean as smooth and felfective as a mirror. Tiny ripples appeared as a dozen or so little fishing boats with lamps approached to gather relatives to take to a tiny island called Ha’afeva, which is located about 40 miles south of our destination. Some of our LDS missionaries left at this point to dedicate two years to preaching the Gospel on these isolated islands in the group of Lulunga.
Again, the engines roared, and we at last arose with a blast of the horn announcing our arrival at Pangai, Ha’apai, where my husband spent most of his adolescent years. Another wild struggle to get off the boat with all of our paraphernalia. A narrow wharf attached to an island 10 miles long, led right up to the mission home where we were to stay. Frustration at not being able to find the luggage we had put inside the boat, and trying to locate all of our bicycles caused us to have doubts that this venture had been a good idea. Finally, all our gear was together, and we walked the 100 yards to our temporary home. We were delighted to find our accommodations clean and safe. We enjoyed the warm welcome of the friendly neighbors.
Bio
Ruth Elayne Kongaika was raised in the mainland, USA, but has been traveling in the South Pacific for the past forty years. She tries to capture the beauty of the islands through her photography, painting and writing. She has a blog which shares some of her art and favorite subjects at:
email: kongaikr@byuh.edu
