So here we are in Tonga, one of the world’s last proper Kingdoms, where the King still owns everything and everyone. Mind you, ‘Ownership’ appears to be a relative concept here. The folks here may be his Majesty’s personal property, but they still burnt his Palace down last week. It reminds me of Jambodog our black Labrador. He might have been my property, but he never did anything I told him in his whole disobedient life.
Our knowledge of Tonga before we arrived was not extensive. In fact it was pretty much limited to the old Flanders and Swan ditty:
“Oh it’s hard to say ‘holi ma kitti lucu chi chi chi’,
But in Tonga that means ‘No’,
If I ever have the money,
‘Tis to Tonga I shall go
For each lovely Tongan maiden there,
Will gladly make a date
And by the time that she’s said ‘holi ma kitti lucu chi chi chi’,
It is usually too late! “
Now that we’re here, I realise that Flanders had the wrong end of the stick completely. The thing that the girls in Tonga can’t say ‘No!’ to is their 4th portion of fried Spam & chips with double cream cake to follow. Women here realised that ‘Fat is a Feminist Issue’ about 600 years before all the birds in New York who have their hair cut with a Flymo. Unlike their American sisters, they have succeeded in carrying the culture along with them. Extreme physical size is apparently the principal yardstick used here to judge beauty in either sex. Just as well really - this is the land of the 60″ waistline. If Martha Stewart showed up here and told these girls that they couldn’t be too rich or too thin, they’d throw her into the harbour. As one wag here famously commented, ’the girls in Tonga are plain until their 15th birthday, after which their beauty increases at a prodigious rate!
What a dismal week. But at least Thomas is better - back to his usual naughty noisy self. He’s had a severe allergic reaction to the head lice shampoo we used on him. A local Italian “doctor” diagnosed him as having Scarlet Fever and then asked if we could give him the Morphine from the ship’s stores as well as paying him!!
Before long, other cruisers come to the rescue as usual. Ocean Breezes make a correct diagnosis and give us some stuff called PHENERGEN which quickly gets his skin rash under control.
Cruising in Tonga is generally a relaxed affair, with dozens of white sand anchorages all within a few miles of each other. Its main drawback is universally poor holding and changeable weather, so when you finally get the anchor set there is a reluctance to move. It often takes 10 or 15 attempts to set the anchor properly here!
The weeks fly by in a whirl of children’s parties on the beaches. There are resident Humpback whales in the sheltered water and we have a magical experience one evening drifting in our dinghy a few yards from a mother with her calf, which thought splashing us with its tail a huge joke.
Paul Blessington, a friend from school, flies out from Canberra with his son Richard, to cruise with us for a memorable week. The boys are just thrilled to have an older boy on board.
The electronic speed control on our generator has failed. Until I can obtain some spare parts from the USA, we are camping on the boat without mod cons in just the sort of conditions that my mother thinks we’ve been living in for the last 2 years. The big issue is exactly where to ship the parts to.
I set off in search of the local DHL office which takes a bit of finding. Even local taxi drivers are stumped. It turns out that DHL is a sideline for them and their core business is renting gratuitously violent videos. Interesting really. The DVD age may not have arrived in Tonga yet, but the content on their shelves would do credit to the store at any good American trailer park!
As for the staff, they are just not of this planet. I make a mental note not to leave the parcel lying about there too long - they might rent it out to someone by mistake! The staff explain that I need to conjure up a mood of incurable optimism and tell my supplier to ship the parts to them. In theory, this will whisk our parcel as though by magic to this friendly local video store in a paltry 8 - 10 days from the USA. I then trot round to collect it, stopping just long enough to pick up Van Damme’s best movie. ( I’m sure you remember it. It’s the one where he didn’t have to speak in the whole film ). Fortunately, we have left our video player at home, so it won’t be possible to watch it. If this sounds desperate, the alternatives look worse. Locals say that none of the other courier services work at all here.
So far, I’ve got no tangible evidence that DHL works either, and the fact that their worldwide tracking system has been down the Khazi for the last few days doesn’t inspire confidence. I put in my tracking number at the local cyber cafe and the system tells me that my parcel has been delivered in Ohio in May 2004. A sporty performance, considering it was only shipped 4 days ago.
I think that DHL must have put their Tonga Office in charge of Group IT.
