The loss of El Dorado

Traveling around the world is one thing, exploring the South Sea another. It is a matter of time. Not in first place because "time" - still - is not as dominant in daily life as in most monetary determined economic communities and nations, but due to that vast deep blue space on our globe, called the pacific ocean, harboring thousands of islands on a surface that no continent matches. Mobility in person - as over the centuries - continues to be linked with bridging distances by navigation on sea: be it between the countless islands, a hundred of archipelagos, or its numerous nations. Indeed, exploring the South Sea still maintains that spirit of an adventure by sea. Sailing with the M.V. Hawaiki Nui to the Leeward Society Islands (French Polynesia), the M.V. Lomaiviti Princess to Taveuni (Fiji), and the M.V. Otuanga'ofa to the northern archipelagos of  Ha'apai and Vava'u (Tonga) slowed down my own pace; for the first time in almost nine months loafing around the globe I feel, I might run out of time. The more the time seems to stand still in this remote part of our world - in harmony with my adapting inner watch - the less mercy the date will show, following strictly the annual calender.

Nevertheless, my time in the south pacific and closeness to the sea somehow merged, to inspire my mind and interest towards the period of the first European navigators and its consequences: leapfrogging mobility to new global dimensions. Therefore it was probably not by chance that I "discovered" V.S. Naipaul's "The Loss of El Dorado" in a small lodge on the remote island of Ofu. Join me in my imaginary voyage across the oceans and time - Trinidad, Chaguanas, 1932 - Naipaul was born into an Indian Hindu community, and he writes in his foreword: "All this seemed so settled and complete it was hard to think of Chaguanas being otherwise. It was hard to feel any wonder at the fact, more than four hundered years after Columbus, there were Indians in a part of the world he had called the Indies; and that the people he had called Indians had vanished."

In his book, Naipaul is concerned with the island in which he grew up, settled in the context of the end of Spanish "Conquistadores" and British occupation (after 1797) in order to use it as a springboard to open up to them the vast opportunities for trade in South America - "another fantasy of greed". This terrible cruelty and its complex consequences for the slaveholder and slave, for reactionary and radical, for revolutionary and renegade, is the heart of his book ... not a romance about discovery, nor piracy, but navigation across the oceans ever present.

Although navigation these days is tremendously facilitated by GPS and digital maps, boarding a ferry or cargo vessel to move on to another island remains an adventure of a different kind. Schedules are not on the minute, handling of passengers and cargo is a noisy and somewhat chaotic affair, the vessels are not built for design, but a solid mass of steel, paint and rost - and once the horn signals the departure, anxiousity overcomes most people on board ... the journey on open sea lays ahead! Truly, each of my trips over night on open sea was adventurous. Traveling between the islands in the South Sea on the open deck of a cargo ferry - among mostly local families - is the closest you can get to experience the people and their way of life. But as I said, it takes time. Once you hop off it might take a week - at least - till the vessel enters the harbor again. Planning a trip across some archipelagos in the pacific ocean, based on route and time schedules, quickly becomes a tricky issue, even for a globetrotter.

But here I am. Approaching Neiafu; according to Lonely Planet "surely one of the world's most amazing and protected harbors". Indeed, entering the Vava'u archipelago after an overnight passage, it takes about one and a half hours for the ferry - along some of the 60 islands, intertwined with turquoise waterways and encircling reefs - till the landing quay appears. I don't doubt that this is one of the world's hot spots for sailing yachts, especially during the time (July to October) when the majestic humpback whales show up to mate and calve in Vava'u's warm waters.

Luckily, or not, it's still "off-season". The whales are not around, nor the yachts, and the weather this time around is hot and humid, with "considerable" rainfall. But this rainfall is essential for the islanders. Any water for consumption needs to be "harvested" ... collected in deposits from the roofs! As mentioned in one of my earlier posts: paradise is not for free ... confirmed on Sundays by vibrant singing from numerous churches.

No visit to Vava'u without getting out on the water. Finding myself the only guest at Adventure Backpackers in Neiafu, I decided to visit the small island of Ofu, just 20 minutes by a local boat from the old harbor. Yes, if I have to be Robinson Crusoe, than at least in style. Ofu island has about 150 inhabitants, belonging to one big family. Or should I say, Ofu island belongs to one family. There are no cars on the island. But what really distinguishes Ofu island from any other place is that the main road along the coast is not of concrete, asphalt, gravel, nor sand, but green loan ... trimmed like the courts of Wimbledon.

Along this wonderful pathway all houses are lined up like colorful beads on one side, while the lagoon inside the reef rewards each opposite turn with a refreshing bath. The kids are smart. After school they look for their seafood supper while hanging out all afternoon in the shallow water. But they also have fun, especially when a "falang" visits the island and tours along the shore with his fire-red kayak. It took me one trip to a neighboring island to adapt my skin color like a chameleon - fire-red, and burning.

I've got the impression that on the remote islands the sociocultural life continues intact. People seem to me not (yet) "captured" by a predominantly monetary, nor materialistic life-style. The island and surrounding sea offers basically what they are used to. Improvements like water tanks (Australia) and - recently - solar power (Japan), are introduced by donor supported development projects. And the natural beauty of their environment brings not only some additional income from visiting guests, but also keeps them in contact with the outer world. If there is a part in the South Sea I want to revisit one day, Vava'u is the place. At last, I'm again in peace with the Kingdom of Tonga.