NUKU'ALOFA, TONGATAPU, TONGA

 

We were warmly welcomed in Tonga with cultural dancers and music as we docked in the capital city of the Kingdom of Tonga. The island of Tongatapu is quite flat.  Very few areas appear more than 50 feet above sea level, and most are only a few feet. The Nuku’alofa dock is a very interesting pier that had obviously been destroyed in a disastrous storm or Tsunami, and had been rebuilt in the last decade — while the depth can handle ships, the pier is quite short with both the ship bow and stern extending past the pier length, and small support boats had to “ferry” bow and stern mooring lines to concrete islands for the more lengthy tie-up moorings.  It was quite complex maneuvering on arrival.

We had a lovely view of the Tongan Palace where we were docked:

Our excursion across the island involved a stop at a major volcanic sea-level plateau with fissures where tidal action created a string of huge blowholes like an aerial white water curtain that moves from one end of the plateau to the farthest end with each suitable wave. Just a fraction of the curtain can be seen in the image below. 

 Later, we visited Hino Cave resort where we were served a traditional feast of local foods and presented with a show of cultural dancing.  The cave itself was partially filled in with sand from the Tsunami which is where the feast used to be held, but at our stop we ate in a well ventilated structure located topside above the cave.  The view from the structure’s deck is shown below.

Back at the ship, we were greeted on return by cultural dancers who danced for nearly 2 hours as we prepared to sail away and leave the beautiful port.

Final Fiji

Our next day in the Fijian Islands was also on Vito Levi island but on the opposite site from Suva, the capital. The bus ride to the park was enjoyable and fun but long (2 hours one way) and our tour guide, whose long name began with the Fijian sound for “Joe” so he requested we call him that, gave us a running commentary on sites we were passing plus taught us bits of Fijian language: Vinaka (thank you), Bula (hello/welcome), io (yes) and many more.  In the above picture Joe is wearing traditional Fijian attire of a skirt below his knees. He gave us permission to take his photograph as he held up a sperm whale tooth necklace hung from braided coconut fiber.  

 This stop included an excursion to an Eco Park where endangered species are captive bred, including the Fijian Crested Iguana—about 24inches in length, and taking 5 years to reach maturity for breeding. This beautiful reptile and several native birds were part of the park’s species recovery work. 

More images from the eco park including an endangered parrot and my first ever in-person glimpse of the flying fox—a fruit eating fox-shaped  and furry bat that I just enjoy watching from bat world sanctuary but had never seen in person until this excursion.  It was very cute.

We were traveling to the sugar cane producing side of the island, principally owned and operated by people of Indian descent.  We passed a beautiful temple, one of the largest on the island, in Nadi. 

We made it back to our ship just in time because the 5.5 hour excursion turned out to be 7 hours. But it was booked through Holland America so the ship could not leave without us.  We were not the last bus to return, either, as several later returnees were apparently running on Fijian time.

Our next day was a stop at the beautiful garden island of 

Vanua Levi, Fiji. The total island population is less than 8,000, and we were tendered ashore. After a thankfully short (packed minibus) drive to Flora Tropica gardens, we climbed up what had to be 150 wooden steps on a plank way path (dry rot made that a bit scary) to this beautiful over look before heading back to the town where we tendered back to ship and just relaxed after the hot steep climb.

Fiji—Suva

 

A Fijian marching band warmly welcomed us to the Suva port at 7:30 am on October 23.  Their music was wonderful, lasted about 30 minutes while docking and port papers were completed.  I am still not feeling up to the excursion we had booked—caught a cold—but Liz left on her Eco-Park tour, and I stayed aboard to rest and catch a telephone call with Oona.

This a busy port, with lots of vessels of all types entering a very narrow passage through coral reefs and rocky shoals.  While Liz was  off-ship, the Volendam had a man overboard drill, where a tender was lowered and scurried over to pick up an overboard life preserver. This image was taken from the poolside of the Lido where I watched the drill.

Liz returned from her adventure and said it was good I didn’t go as it was muddy, slippery, uneven ground with at least 60 primitive steps, and two steep ups-and-downs, but very beautiful.  From the lovely rainforest plants to the Fijian kava ceremony, she enjoyed every minute (but had to scrub her tennis shoes and wash her slacks afterwards):

American Samoa

We moored in American Samoa on Friday morning and since we had an excursion, we went ashore right away and found our bus, which was an old wooden open air (open because all windows were open) bus trimmed on the outside with live ginger leaves and blossoms. The size of the closed in cab was tight, but the driver managed to put in a collapsible wheel chair for another guest. I’m guessing this vintage bus was of WWII era.  No loudspeakers so our lovely young Samoan woman in traditional dress had to project her voice.  We could hear as we wee in the second row—others behind us were likely not so lucky. 

We stopped at a tsunami memorial and saw this lovely protected beach and swim lagoon—but we couldn’t stop to swim. 

The vegetation around the memorial included a huge tall tree-like white gardenia—smelled so lovely, and the leaves and blossoms were absolutely  huge.

Lots of dogs wander the island—they look well fed but do not belong to anyone and just mingle with the population.

Crossing the Equator

 Crossing the equator is a big thing—shipmates turn from pollywogs (never before sailed over the equator) to golden shellbacks once they have journeyed over the equatorial line, which the Volendam did today. No one is really sure when or how the Line Crossing Ceremony, or Order of Neptune, came about. The ritual dates back at least 4 centuries in Western seafaring past. The ceremony observes a mariner’s transformation from slimy Pollywog (slime today looked like thin sugary frosting in todays ceremony) where the pollywogs first are ordered by King Neptune to kiss a fish (yes, a large real fish) then walked to where they get creamed with this wet sticky stuff, then be judged (by the Captain and his first line officers) whether he should advance—those who fail to kiss the fish or have transgressions are likely ordered overboard (must jump fully clothed and sticky into the pool), while those who pass the procedure are advanced to shellback.   For our ship’s crew, Neptune pardoned them all in the end so every crewman advanced and became shellbacks.

Historically, a seaman who hasn’t crossed the equator to become a trusty Shellback and be called a Son or Daughter of Neptune would be tested for their seaworthiness in this process.

Fortunately, for passengers, Liz and I just got our certificates without being smeared or dunked. 

Frigate Birds

 

Liz had a bird’s eye view of a Frigate Bird this morning from our usual early morning (6 am) seat in the Crow’s Nest—I am usually 15 minutes after her so I missed it. But where there is one there will be more, and I hope to see them soon. The bird had landed on a piece of our prow and stayed there until another Frigate bird came in to land, then the first flew off, and the second shortly thereafter.  No, she did not get an image. 

Frigate birds are rather amazing long haul flyers.  They soar and glide for great distances, and are able to stay aloft for months, and can sleep while airborne. They nest in low vegetation, where they can land and take off directly from the nest site. Frigatebirds catch near surface fish (such as flyingp fish in mid-flight), and harass other sea birds to force them to disgorge their catch, which is then caught in mid-air by the frigatebirds.  They cannot land in the sea nor take-off from the sea. 

Doldrums and Fanning Island

 

After Hawaii, we had several days at sea as we sailed south to cross the doldrums and approach our first true South Pacific stop, Fanning Island.  There is much to do onboard ship, if one wants to learn to play bridge, how to play the ukelele, how to dance the Hulu, create leis, etc.  And of course—there are musical venues, shows, and more--not to mention the onboard casino.  However, there are also quiet places one can site and read, knit, or work sudoku puzzles, depending on your personal choice.  The onboard library is full of puzzle—some 5,000 pieces and absolutely huge—books, and computer stations for passengers to enjoy.  It also has comfortable chairs and couches.  All around the various decks are lovely paintings, sculptures, and other art objects.  Below are a few about-the-ship scenes.

Some people have asked about the food--of course it is very good, with lots of choices.  I like the Asian food station best, but the Mains station had turkey on Canadian Thanksgiving last week--and it was very good.  My steps have averaged over 7,500, with 10,000 steps twice per week, and I have closed all of my Apple Watch rings every day I have been onboard--although my knee is bothering me today so might not get them closed today.  We will see.

Back to the sailing: we have not seen the southern cross in the sky--been pretty cloudy at night.  Also, we likely will not see the Aurora Australis as we do not sail south as far as New Zealand, but you never know!

We approach Fanning Island by passing from the northern hemispheric winds into the southern hemispheric winds—the quiet place between these two hemispheres is known as the doldrums, where sailors of old often found themselves windless and trapped for days and weeks on end. So desperate were they in the approaches through the nearby “horse latitudes” that some vessels tossed their horses overboard to lighten the load and get moving.  Horrible to think of the poor horses abandoned in such a cruel way.  We noticed how the water got very glassy as we passed through—and caught our first sight of a dolphin off our starboard balcony, then later more sightings of dolphins off the port side.

Although the dolphin we sighted off our balcony had a clear dorsal fin, the dolphins of the port side seemed smaller, more whitish, and I couldn’t catch a dorsal fin view.  However, we did see breath spouts from them as well as playful splashes, so they were definitely mammals not fish.

We were set to reach Fanning Island on Monday, October 16th California time (we pass through the international date line and this lose one day, but the ship chose not to modify all dates for this event, and our phone clocks were not fazed by the crossing). This island is reported to be one of the most remote and beautiful islands in the world, and will certainly be the most remote that we visit. Known as Tabuaeran in the local Kiribati (actually pronounced Kiribas) dialect, this island is located 173 miles north of Kiritmati (Christmas) Island, and roughly 1,000 miles south of Hawaii.  The island has remained outside of the reach of the rest of the world for decades, and maintains a traditional culture and way of life. 

We need to use a tender to enter an inlet of the atoll and reach within the encircled atoll to disembark via tender at a wooden pier.  We have been warned that there is no electricity, no bathrooms, no shade, and no running water—passengers need to wear hats, dress modestly, and carry water.  No excursions are offered—it is all on your own.

However, the pier must first be repaired by the first cruise ship of the season docking there, which is our Volendam.  Once the repair crew is tendered to the pier, does their work repairing the wooden pier using onboard lumber and plywood, then the passengers will be tendered slowly over to the island while the ship remains moored outside the atoll. At least, that was the plan.  But the stop at Fanning Island was cancelled at the last minute as the local officials had no boat or sea plane to arrive from Christmas Island in time to perform ship entry regulatory work as had been planned.  These islands are pretty primitive and governance is pretty lackadaisical.  So, last night about 9:30 pm the Captain announced that there could be no stop at Fanning as the government at the last minute informed our ship that government staff could not get to the island in time and would not conduct needed regulatory matters remotely.   Sigh.

Instead, we circumnavigated it, giving us a rare view of the opposite side of the island which cruise ships never see. 

 

Honolulu Explorations, after sailing out of Nawiliwili

 

Entering and exiting the Nawilwili port was a tight squeeze, and we saw the tugs in action as they pushed on the stern to force the ship into a sharp, nearly 90 degree turn with very little tolerance for errors (shoals on the one side and stone breakwater on the opposite side to enter the port.  The pilot had hopped aboard coming into port, but we never saw him leave when we exited (with a beautiful sunset pictured below), so maybe he went with us for a jaunt to Honolulu (pictured above) which was our next port of call.  There, we were moored at Pier 2, not too far from the iconic Aloha Tower lighthouse/beacon.  Both the tower and pier 2 (marked by our round blue dot) are in the photo above. But here's one last glimpse of the Nawiliwili sunset:

The first day in Honolulu was supposed to have been a Holland America excursion, but it was cancelled due to lack of participants. Our plan then was to use local transportation to get around but the taxi bill of close to $40 to our first stop (Bishop Museum) convinced us to try a bus later. 

The Bishop museum was started by Charles Reed Bishop (1822–1915), who was a Hawaiian  businessman and philanthropist, obtaining most of his wealth from being co-founder of the First Hawaiian Bank and Kamehameha Schools.  He built the museum in memory of his late wife, Princess Bernice Pauahi Bishop (1831–1884), who was a member of the royal family and last legal heir of the Kamehameha Dynasty, which had ruled the Kingdom of Hawaiʻi between 1810 and 1872. Although Bishop had originally intended the museum to house family heirlooms passed down to him through the royal lineage of his wife, as the museum was built on the original boys' campus of Kamehameha Schools, an institution created at the bequest of the Princess, to benefit native Hawaiian children.  1898, Bishop had Hawaiian Hall and Polynesian Hall built on the campus, in the popular Richardsonian Romanesque architectural style. The Pacific Commercial Advertiser newspaper dubbed these two structures as "the noblest buildings of Honolulu," and today these halls are listed on the National Register of Historic Places. Hawaiian Hall includes a ceiling suspension of a sperm-whale skeleton, with half of the skeleton exposed and the other half encased in papier-mâché to simulate the body skin of the massive whale. Taxidermy birds native to the area are also suspended from the ceiling as if in flight.  The gallery showcases around the perimeter of these halls contain historical materials and explanatory information from all eras of human occupation of the islands.

We asked the entry desk staff if they knew whether a bus passed by the museum and could return us near our port dock.  The Hawaiian man there, who was very friendly, didn’t know because he only drives, he told us, but he asked the lady at the desk who told us the bus number, and the man then took us outside and told us where to go to catch that bus, which was over about two blocks.  As we talked with him, he asked where we were from, and was familiar with both Mendocino and Sebastopol because he had lived in Sacramento, he told us, for 20 years—then he told us he had moved here after attending UOP.  Well, we told him we had also attended UPO, and then it was like old family week, and we talked some more.  How cool is that?  He seemed a wonderful man, and told us that he had once lived in Bakersfield, but decided it was time to come back to the islands few years back. And called his mother, saying “Mom, I’m coming home!”

We followed his directions and got to the bus top just a bit before the bus arrived, and the driver told us to get off at the stop closest to the Aloha Tower.  By then, both our phones were running down, and the phone maps were hard to follow, but we figure we probably circled back on ourselves several time before we walked downhill trying to get close enough to the port where we could see our ship.  It was a 14,000-step day in HOT sun, and we were badly dehydrated by the time we got back to ship.

The next day, we left early and explored the Aloha Tower area before heading back to ship as it was just quite hot to be out and about walking.  On Board the ship, as we were beginning lunch, we saw the Oscar Elton Sette NOAA research vessel sail out past us. 

The Oscar Elton Sette built in Moss Point, Mississippi, commissioned in 2003, and is homeported in Honolulu.   The ship is named after Oscar Elton Sette who served as the first director of the Honolulu Laboratory at U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service (now the NOAA National Marine Fisheries Service’s Pacific Islands Fisheries Science Center), from 1949 to 1955.  The vessel conducts fisheries assessments, physical and chemical oceanography research, marine mammal surveys, and marine debris surveys. Because the ship is acoustically quieted, it is particularly well suited to conduct fisheries research and marine mammal surveys.  It uses bottom trawls, longlines, and fish traps to collect fish and crustacean specimens--plankton nets and surface and mid-water larval nets are used to collect plankton, fish larvae, and eggs. The ship has wet, dry, hydro-chemistry and computer laboratories—what a great life for a fisheries biologist to work aboard her!

 

We approached Hilo early in the morning—passing into the bay past the hotel where we have stayed before, immediately adjacent to the beautiful park and Japanese garden. 

As we docked in port, the ship was securely moored by lines holding her to the dock where we disembarked to explore Hilo. 

 

Since we were familiar with the city and had been to all the planned excursion places (Volcano National Park, etc)_and more, we were going to use local transportation to get around Hilo in the eight hours or so we were visiting the city.  We first taxied ($14.00) to downtown, as we had hoped to explore some open shops and the Tsunami Museum, which we had not yet been to in past travels.  However, our visit to Hawaii had been re-arranged due to the tragic fires in Lahaina, and the Hilo stop (which was to have been on a Tuesday, fell on a Sunday.  Sundays in downtown Hilo are pretty quiet—most shops (except for a few coffee shops and restaurants) were closed, and all the museums were closed, even the Tsunami Museum which had an online web page asserting it was open.  Not so.  We stopped for iced tea and while drinking our tea were asked by a young woman, clearly a visitor, where we had obtained our maps.  We told her we had received them at our cruise ship.  Since both Liz and I had a set of maps, we gave her our second set, since we really no longer needed them as most things were closed.

The chickens of Hawaii seem most prevalent on Kauai, but the fearless Hilo chicken shown above was in downtown Hilo, clearly on top of HIS world, and the ever-present Hawaiian zebra dove (endemic but not native) shared sidewalk and parking lot space with him.  The downtown area of Hilo is old, but seems to be on the rise, with murals and interesting shops interspersed with well-tagged derelict buildings.  But the lovely flowers of the tropics bloomed against the faded structures, showing the promise to come.

We walked back to the transportation center and caught the Hele-On local bus, which happens to be free on Sundays.  Most everyone on the bus were from on-board ship—except for the young Asian woman we had given our maps to, who also had apparently walked back to the transportation center and boarded the bus.  The cruise ship folks ALL disembarked the bus at the Target/Walmart stop because everyone on the bus, except us and the Asian girl, were apparently heading to Walmart.  We got off the bus at the port, and the sole remaining passenger was our old town compatriot – probably a foreign student studying at the University.  However, she was soon joined by people getting on the bus from the cruise ship!  I wonder what she thought of us all.

Later, as we were waiting to sail away from Hilo, the distant rains were intensifying, and for awhile it seemed as if it was raining all around us, but somehow missed the ship.

On Monday, the next day, we were excited to spot land in the distance, as we approached Oahu.  We must have passed Maui in the night.  It looked like a shining city in the distance, glimmering in the early morning sun.

As we passed, we noticed another large ship between us and Honolulu—its grey color and shape suggest it is one of our navy vessels stationed at Pearl Harbor.

Albatrosses & Rainbow

 

Yesterday we sailed closer to Hawaii, and I was lucky enough to see a pair of Layson Albatrosses that circled off the starboard side of the ship for awhile before finally landing in the sea—then of course we sailed past these lovely birds.  We have seen them in the past frequently on Kauai, in Princeville, where they nest in people’s yards (where the above picture was taken nine months ago). Every visit to Kauai requires a stop in a subdivision cul-de-sac where the albatrosses are always present.  Since we won’t be going to Princeville in our day stop at Nawiliwili on this cruise, it is good we kept our tradition going of spotting this lovely bird while at sea approaching Hawaii.

The Layson Albatross was widely hunted for its feathers in the last century and its populations declined precipitously, but it is now re-bounding due to both conservation and captive breeding-and-release programs.  They are a long-lived bird, and a female Laysan albatross named Wisdom is the oldest known wild bird in the world. Wisdom was first captured and banded by a USGS researcher in 1956 and was seen that year rearing a chick, meaning she was at least five years old on that 1956 date as these albatrosses don’t breed until they are five years old.  For decades, Wisdom and her life-mate,  Akeakamai, return every year to the same nest site to lay one egg.  As of 2023, Wisdom’s current estimated age is 72 years old.  I’m just a bit older, by 4 years.

Wisdom, courtesy of the US Fish and Wildlife Service

My Hike for Habitat annual walk preparation is going well, and I am very likely to reach the fundraising goal for Conservation Works.  I thank my friends and family members who already have given so generously at https://givebutter.com/kqaSvF/susanwarner1 to support my Hike this year (I will be onboard the Volendam ship at sea and plan to walk 5 miles that day!).  I am proud to be raising funds for this small non-profit that does so much for conservation and environmental education in the North Coast of California.

This morning, Liz and I awoke as usual pretty early (around 5 am our time), and headed up to the still vacant Crow’s Nest where we were the only people for awhile. We had stopped at the Lido deck and picked up coffee, and did our usual morning stuff of catching up with the news (dreadful carnage in Israel with escalating conflict with Hamas), working Wordle and Sudoku, etc., as we waited for sunrise.  It was time to head down one deck for breakfast in the Lido when suddenly in front of us, was a lovely rainbow—it appeared as if our ship was going to sail under the rainbow—since it is under, rather than over, I know we won’t end up in Oz…

As we approach Hawaii—docking tomorrow in Hilo—we should see more marine wildlife, and I’ll be taking pictures!