Nuku Island, Neifu (Vava’u), Kingdom of Tonga
The day dawned in a brilliant field of blue. A blazing sun warmed the morning amid a scattering of low, puffy clouds. The National Geographic Endeavour was slowly plying the waterways of the Vava’u group of islands in northern Tonga. The Vava’u group is Tonga’s most scenic region. It’s an uplifted limestone cluster that tilts to cliffs in the north and submerges in a myriad of small islands to the south. A labyrinth of waterways winds between plateaus thrust up by subterranean, geologic muscle-flexing. In Vava’u one superb scenic vista succeeds another. During our transit to our morning’s stop at tiny Nuku Island, glorious scenery abounded in every direction. The Vava’u group is one of the South Pacific’s great yachting meccas, evident by the numerous pleasure sail boats that dotted the inner channels.
During breakfast our vessel was held fast by her anchor just a few cables north of Nuku, a tiny, verdant-covered, raised limestone island with a spit of white-sand beach at its eastern edge, which sat amid larger coralline cousins just south of the main island of Vava’u. A host of waterborne and beach activities were prepared for us to indulge, principle among them, snorkeling and sunbathing. In a narrow channel just off our sandy perch lay a series of coral bommies no more than a few feet below the surface. Each was rich with healthy coral colonies and scores of reef fish. Damselfish, triggerfish, fusiliers, soldierfish, and parrotfish among others moved in and out of their coral protection to curiously gaze at the neoprene-clad snorkelers and the glass-bottom boat above them. A few large carpet anemones replete with anemone or clown fish residents aggressively guarding their tentacled homes were highlights.
During lunch the National Geographic Endeavour sailed towards Neiafu up the Ava Pulepulekai channel, which leads to picturesque, landlocked Puerto Del Refugio (Port of Refuge Harbor), one of the finest and most well protected in the South Pacific. The harbor was christened by Captain Francisco Antonio Mourelle, whose Spanish vessel chanced upon Vava’u in 1781 while en route from Manila to Mexico, making Vava’u one of the last South Pacific islands to be contacted by Europeans. On both sides of the channel, limestone cliffs, richly peppered with greenery, rose abruptly from the sea’s surface. The cliffs, as well as some of the smaller islets, were broken occasionally by sparkling vanilla-white beaches. The scenery was nothing short of stunning.
Before long, our vessel was firmly alongside a large concrete pier in Neiafu, Tonga’s second “city,” but still a sleepy little town of six-thousand inhabitants. Its size and compactness make Neiafu a great place to explore on foot. To this end a series of walks was offered to explore the town and surrounding countryside. Today Neiafu was quiet and subdued, cloaked in an air of somber mourning and reflection, in respect and recognition of the passing of the King of Tonga. Many restaurants and lively pubs were closed, the streets had a paucity of both foot and street traffic, and the main market, normally a hotbed of commerce, was sluggish in the exchange of goods. Some of us perused the market, hoping to secure a handicraft item or two, or window shop the produce, some of which was quite alien to the fruits and vegetables of temperate regions. A highlight was a trek to the summit of Mt. Talau (131 meters), a flat-topped hill, dominating Neiafu to the west, which afforded unparalleled views of the town, Port of Refuge, and much of the archipelago.
The day dawned in a brilliant field of blue. A blazing sun warmed the morning amid a scattering of low, puffy clouds. The National Geographic Endeavour was slowly plying the waterways of the Vava’u group of islands in northern Tonga. The Vava’u group is Tonga’s most scenic region. It’s an uplifted limestone cluster that tilts to cliffs in the north and submerges in a myriad of small islands to the south. A labyrinth of waterways winds between plateaus thrust up by subterranean, geologic muscle-flexing. In Vava’u one superb scenic vista succeeds another. During our transit to our morning’s stop at tiny Nuku Island, glorious scenery abounded in every direction. The Vava’u group is one of the South Pacific’s great yachting meccas, evident by the numerous pleasure sail boats that dotted the inner channels.
During breakfast our vessel was held fast by her anchor just a few cables north of Nuku, a tiny, verdant-covered, raised limestone island with a spit of white-sand beach at its eastern edge, which sat amid larger coralline cousins just south of the main island of Vava’u. A host of waterborne and beach activities were prepared for us to indulge, principle among them, snorkeling and sunbathing. In a narrow channel just off our sandy perch lay a series of coral bommies no more than a few feet below the surface. Each was rich with healthy coral colonies and scores of reef fish. Damselfish, triggerfish, fusiliers, soldierfish, and parrotfish among others moved in and out of their coral protection to curiously gaze at the neoprene-clad snorkelers and the glass-bottom boat above them. A few large carpet anemones replete with anemone or clown fish residents aggressively guarding their tentacled homes were highlights.
During lunch the National Geographic Endeavour sailed towards Neiafu up the Ava Pulepulekai channel, which leads to picturesque, landlocked Puerto Del Refugio (Port of Refuge Harbor), one of the finest and most well protected in the South Pacific. The harbor was christened by Captain Francisco Antonio Mourelle, whose Spanish vessel chanced upon Vava’u in 1781 while en route from Manila to Mexico, making Vava’u one of the last South Pacific islands to be contacted by Europeans. On both sides of the channel, limestone cliffs, richly peppered with greenery, rose abruptly from the sea’s surface. The cliffs, as well as some of the smaller islets, were broken occasionally by sparkling vanilla-white beaches. The scenery was nothing short of stunning.
Before long, our vessel was firmly alongside a large concrete pier in Neiafu, Tonga’s second “city,” but still a sleepy little town of six-thousand inhabitants. Its size and compactness make Neiafu a great place to explore on foot. To this end a series of walks was offered to explore the town and surrounding countryside. Today Neiafu was quiet and subdued, cloaked in an air of somber mourning and reflection, in respect and recognition of the passing of the King of Tonga. Many restaurants and lively pubs were closed, the streets had a paucity of both foot and street traffic, and the main market, normally a hotbed of commerce, was sluggish in the exchange of goods. Some of us perused the market, hoping to secure a handicraft item or two, or window shop the produce, some of which was quite alien to the fruits and vegetables of temperate regions. A highlight was a trek to the summit of Mt. Talau (131 meters), a flat-topped hill, dominating Neiafu to the west, which afforded unparalleled views of the town, Port of Refuge, and much of the archipelago.
