Sunday:
“Hi, there. I’m trying to locate a bag that got lost on a flight from Auckland to Tongatapu”. Joe sighed, pressing the phone to her ear as she motioned the kids to be quiet. “We are in Vava’u, and we were informed that it has arrived in Tongatapu, so we are waiting for confirmation that it has arrived here”. She walked to the front of the boat, trying to escape the loud squeals of the children so that she could hear the excuses of the indifferent Real Tonga airline official clearly.
Unperturbed by our shushing, the kids continued their game, an involved Army Game in which everybody was excitedly shooting everybody else and collapsing only to jump up again immediately and shoot some more.
Joe and Glenn, and their two children Neve and Lachie, had joined the boat in Neiafu, the main town in the northern island group of Vava’u in Tonga, the day after the McDermers left. Their bag had gone missing on the Air New Zealand flight from Auckland to Tongatapu, the capital of Tonga. Real Tonga, the Tongan airline, had promised to forward it onto Vava’u, where they had already been waiting in vain for it for two days before joining us on the boat.
The bag contained all their watersports gear – lifejackets, snorkelling kits, wetsuits and kitesurfing harness. We had some stuff they could borrow, but the water was cold, and for first time snorkellers it would be nice to have well fitting wetsuits and the masks that had been bought especially for the occasion.
“They say it will arrive here tomorrow morning”. Joe came back to the cockpit, an upbeat tone in her voice. “So if we come back in to Neiafu tomorrow, we can go to the airport and get it as soon as the flight lands.”
Great! We could spend the day in a nice anchorage out of town where we could take the kids to the beach before heading back to Neiafu to pick up the bag.
Monday:
“Hello there, I’m trying to locate a bag that was lost on a flight to Tongatapu. It was meant to be sent on to Vava’u today, but it never arrived. We are on a sailing yacht, and are leaving today. It’s a serious inconvenience to us not to have the bag, and I’d like to get the delivery prioritised”. Joe pressed her fingers to her forehead as she leant forward, back to the wind, struggling to hear the person at the other end. “No, but we’re on a boat, and we’re leaving”. She shook her head and bent further forward.
We had come back to Neiafu to pick up the bag, only to discover that it hadn’t, in fact, been on the flight as promised, and Joe was now trying to determine whether it was likely to arrive soon, in which case we could wait for it, or whether we should just leave. We wanted to go to the easternmost islands in the Vava’u group, where few people go and whales abound, and needed a couple of days to get there comfortably. We were hoping to meet a bit of wind and have some kitesurfing and it would be good to have the watersports bag with Joe’s harness so that she could get a kitesurf.
Nothing wrong with Neiafu, it’s a nice place. But when you only have a week to explore Tonga by sea, you want to see some deserted islands, not be stuck in the main harbour near the airport.
The kids ran past Joe, yelling furiously. A new game was in full swing, in which Neve was an evil dragon who roared viciously, showing her gleaming fangs and waving her claws menacingly in the air, terrifying the small animals swarming around her.
The boys had quickly settled into a routine of high volume shouting-jumping-swinging-shooting games. Neve joined in occasionally, but she preferred being in the water, where she had just discovered snorkelling. We had a spare kid’s snorkelling set which fitted her perfectly, and she was whooping with delight as she discovered the underwater joys of Tonga.
“OK, thanks, I appreciate it. Bye now”. Joe put the phone down, narrowly avoiding being stepped on by the kids rushing past behind her as she bent forward in her seat. She turned to face us. “Apparently, it’ll definitely arrive tomorrow morning”, she said, looking relieved.
Tuesday:
“I know. But your office said that the bag would definitely be in Vava’u this morning, and it wasn’t”. Glenn was pacing the deck, phone clutched to his ear. “And now I would like to speak to your manager to discuss how we can arrange for us to get our bag, or have it returned to New Zealand”. He shuddered in the chilly breeze and sat down on the seat at the bow, a dark shape against the grey midday sky.
We were anchored just off the island of Vaka’eitu, a scenic spot near a beautiful beach. It was still possible for us to zip up to the other side of Vava’u and take a taxi to go pick up the bag in case it arrived.
Matias, Lukie and Lachie stormed past Glenn to jump furiously on the trampoline, shouting loudly. Matias grabbed hold of one of the genoa sheets and started swinging over the tramp, and Lukie grabbed the other to swing the opposite way. Within seconds they collided in the air.
“Aww, awawawauauwuwuawu”, Lukie wailed, collapsing onto the tramp with one hand on the hurt shoulder. He rolled over, clutching his arm. “Mummy, Matias hurt me, and it was on purpose”, he yelled before collapsing, sobbing loudly. “Awauawauwwaaauwuwaw”.
I ran out on deck, shushing him as Glenn shielded his ear and quickly moved indoors, head down, ear pressed to the phone.
Wednesday:
“Right. But I’d like you to take a photo of the bag and send it to me, so that I can confirm it is our bag, before you forward it to the hotel”. Jo sighed and sat down, shading her eyes against the brilliant sunshine. “OK, thanks. I’ll give you the address once I’ve confirmed it’s our bag”. She hung up and turned to look at us. “They say they’ve got the bag in Vava’u now, but I want to know that it is ours for sure. I’m going to ask them to drop it at the hotel we stayed in before, then we can maybe pick it up from there”, she said.
I lifted my head from my card game with Neve and Lachie. “That sounds great. Then you can come kiting tomorrow”, I said.
“You forgot to say Uno”, shouted Neve. “You’re fined!”
“Uh oh”. Lachie winced and picked up two more cards.
I returned my attention to the card game, hoping to keep the troops calm and happy for another half hour before the jumping mayhem started again.
Friday:
“The bag is here, apparently, but they can’t deliver it to the hotel”, said Joe, putting down her phone. She rubbed her eyes and put her head in her hands. “It may be best if we just go and collect it, otherwise we’ll never get it”, she sighed. “We’re flying out early on Monday morning, and the office will be closed on Sunday, so this is probably our only chance”.
“That’s OK”, said David. “We’ll just head back to Vava’u Island, and then you can jump off and get a taxi to town, collect it, taxi back and we’ll pick you back up”
He was interrupted by Matias. “Lachie, let’s go and play Army”, he yelled, pushing past David and trampling over Neve as he sprang out of the cockpit. Lachie jumped up from his seat with an excited squeal, streaming after him.
Lukie stomped after them “I don’t want to be shot, I don’t want to have weapons”, he roared, a troubled tremble already resonating in his voice. “I don’t want to die”.
Glenn looked at me. “I give them five minutes before someone gets hurt”, he said.
Sunday:
“Cheers”, I said. “To catching up”.
Everyone raised their glasses and we toasted our lukewarm rum T-punches, the only tolerable drink when you have no ice. It was our last night, the kids were in bed, and we were having a last celebration of our busy time together.
It had been a good week, despite the missing bag. Joe had been kiting using David’s harness, and Neve had happily snorkelled using our gear. We’d successfully sailed to the easternmost part of the Vava’u island group, an area thick with whales, their huffs and puffs breaking the silence, sprays of water misting the air as they surfaced, breathing just next to the boat. We’d caught and eaten every variety of mollusc available – squid, conch and some weird seaslug that we found in the reef shallows. We’d been to deserted islands, swum in turquoise waters and snorkelled beautiful coral. The kids had even found underwater treasure in dark caves, and Matias and Neve were proud to have mastered the tricky underwater access to the famous Mariner’s cave.
The boys’ play had settled into a routine of ever-rotating high volume games: High Pitched Loud Shooting Army, Extreme Roaring Dragon Chasing Small Squealing Creatures, Top-of-the-Voice Yelling Rope Swinging and Insanely Screaming Midgets Pushing Loudly Protesting Matias into the Hole. Every so often, normally just before feeding time, Lukie would add his wailing to the already intolerable background noise, complaining about some imagined slight, and the grown-ups would have to take turns feverishly reading or playing cards in an attempt to quiet the troops until blood sugar levels had risen enough for play to proceed.
We’d finally retrieved the bag on the Friday, and Joe had proudly presented us with the boutique beers, salami and feta cheese that it contained, delicacies brought along from New Zealand which we promptly feasted on. The wetsuits had been used at least once, and Lachie had christened his new mask and snorkel.
It had been exhilarating and exhausting for the children, a great catch up with old friends, an intense week full of the noise and mayhem that four children packed together in a small space create. We were grateful to have shared a snapshot of life with our old friends and for the opportunity to reacquaint ourselves with their wonderful children. So long, O’ssickers!
SV Bob The Cat 