27.2.09

Sun 22nd Feb: Rangitata Valley (Edoras)



























































































Todady is a 'Lord of the Rings' Day with a trip to Middle Earth in the offing. A little bit twee, I know, but when I saw 'The Lord of the Rings' in the cinema I thought if I ever went to New Zealand I'd love to visit the ste of Edoras, capital of Rohan. At 9am I joined up with a group in Cathedral square to make the trip by 4-wheel drive minibus. It had a large cringe worthy 'Lord of the Rings' splashed over its sides and, winding through the city centre, passing pedestrians would glance at the logo, do a double take and then smile, probably thinking we were all crackpot 'Ring' fanatics something aloong the lines of hardcore Star Trek fans. If thats what we were meant to be then I was something of a fraud not having read any of the books. I think most of the group were like myself, had seen the films and wanted to visit some of the spectacular locations. However, one American woman did look suspiciously like a wizardess. She was tall, silver haired and thin. She had a pointed nose, wore a white jumper and trousers under a long, flowing, black overcoat. As she swished along she certainly wouldn't have looked out of place alongside Gandalf or Saruman.
It was a beautiful warm morning as we left Christchurch. Our guide, called Mike, was a friendly chap who provided a running commentary about the construction and filming of Edoras and Rohan at Mt Sunday in the Rangitata valley in the southern Alps, the spine of mountains which run the length of the South Island. For the first hour or so out of Christchurch we traveled across flat plains which brought us to the foothills of the mountain range. Unfortunately as soon as we began to climb into these mountains the clouds descended and rain began to fall.
COnstruction of the site of Edoras began in January 2000 and lasted for 8 months. Only 'The Golden Hall', some houses and some of the city walls were actually construcated. The rest of Edoras was added later by CGI. Part of the reason construction took so long is that the Rangitata valley acts as a wind tunnel. Building continued through the Southern winter and the builders sometimes faced winds of up to 120km. During these conditions work had to cease. Construction ended in August that year and filming was scheduled for September when the surrounding mountains would still have a scattering of snow on them. Filming lasted for 8 days after which the construction crew immediately dismantled the set. There had been an agreement with the landowner that there would be no lasting damage to the landscape. The site was restored to its original state.
Originally it had been planned for the filming of Edoras to take place in Wellinton. Film director, Peter Jackson, hadn't thought it possible to find a location which matched Tolkein's description of the site. As it transpired the Rangitata valley was discovered by pure chance. One of the location scouts was flying to Wellington from Queenstown and bad weather caused the pilot to deviate from the original flight plan. The new route took the plane over the Rangitata valley. The location scout on viewing the scene below him was astounded. The valley as it lay before him matched, exactly, the location of Tolkein's city, Edoras. Peter Jackson was brought down to view the valley and negotiations were opened with the landowner whom, it was believed, recieved at least 1 million for the use of his land.
As we neared Edoras Mike, the guide, delayed us hoping the rain would pass. We stopped at two scenic spots 'for photos' as he looked anxiously at the overcast skies, hoping for some break in the clouds. Eventually he couldn't delay any longer. We drove for a few minutes, crested a ridge and the valley lay before us. In spite of the wet conditions the valley looked spectacular. The distinctive craggy rock of Edoras (Mt Sunday) lay on the bottom of a broad flat valley. The rain lifted though a misty air hung over the valley, giving a soft light on the wild, boggy landscape.
As we drove down into the valley to approach Mt Sunday it felt as if we were about to visit the site of an ancient city. I had to keep reminding myself it was only a film set. Mike steered the 4-wheel drive off the gravel road and into some adjoining fields. We splashed through some streams in full flood and paked up by a gate at the base of Mt Sunday some 500-600m from the site of Edoras. A 20 min hike took us to the top of the hill where the city had been located. Mike told us the lay out of the site as it had been and where the principal buildings had been located. It really did feel like an Archaeological site and like may old historic sites it was a spectacular location. High mountains surrounded the valley. Mike pointed out the site of Helms Deep another of the landmark sites from the film, some 6-7kms away on the far side of the valley. No actual filming took place at that location though photography was used. Before long the clouds and rain closed in again and we were forced to cut the visit short as rain drops pelted us. We returned to the minibus. By 6.30pm we were back in sunny Christchurch.
I spent the evening around town checking out one or two of the bars, trying out some of the local brews. Darkness had fallen as I walked out to the hostel along Manchester street. Its funny, when you book accomodation online,you never really know what part of the city you will actually end up in. I had no idea, when I booked my hostel, that I lay just beyond the local redlight district. As I walked out of the centre along Manchester Street both sides of the road were lined by with prostitutes, plying their trade. However, they were all very friendly ladies. They all smiled and said hello as I walked by.















Sat 21st Feb: To Christchurch via Interisland Ferry




















































































I have a fery to catch today to the south island so I'm up at 7am to take a shuttle bus to the ferry terminal. The bus was full of backpackers all heading to the ferry. We checked in around 7.30, boarded, claimed our seats and then had a wander on deck. It was a muggy misty morning in Wellington. Fog hung low over the city centre, obscuring a lot of the city. Not far away close to the docks sat the local Westpac rugby stadium. Last night A super 14 rugby match was underway as we arrived into town. Had we got into town a little earlier I'd definitely have tried to take in that match. It would be good to see some rugby while I'm here.
The ferry pulled out on time and sailed through the mist out into open water between the two islands. Here the mist cleared away and we emerged into a bright sunny morning with the cliffs of the south island bathed in sunlight. Approaching the south island the ferry entered a narrow channel and for the second half of the journey we sailed through picturesque fjiords to Picton, a small, pretty port and terminal for the ferry.
At Picton a quick transfer from boat to bus and we were on the road south to Christchurch. From Picton to Christchurch it was a 5 and a half hour journey. We followed a pretty valley through some hill country on the way to flat wine country around Blenheim. This area is the centre of the small but growing wine industry in New Zealand. Some 73 vineyards operate in the locality since the first was set up in 1973. Beyond the vineyards the road passed up to a small mountain pass which took us to the coast. We followed the coat road down to the pretty seaside town of Kaikora. For a number of kms on the approach to the town we passed numerous seal colonies swimming and laying about on rocks in the sun. We stopped here for 40 mins and some meat pies and pastries on the sea front made for a pleasant stopover.
From Kaikora it was over two hours. The weather closed in and by the time we arrived in Christchurch there was a distinctly cool, autumnal feel to the place. I had a quick look at the centre before walking out to the hostel. Renowned for its parks and gardens Christchurch is known as 'The Garden City' and has a population of over 370,000. Its the second largest city in NZ and its oldest. It is home to the successful Super 14 team, the Cantebury Crusaders. They have won 7 titles, the equivalent to the Heineken Cup in Europe. This evening they lost away to The Aussie ACT Brumbies in their second match of the competition. Like most of the cities in NZ, Christchurch city centre has a small town feel. The hostel is a 20 min walk from Cathedral Square in the centre yet it is situated out in teh suburbs. After checking into the hostel I'd hoped to have a quick bite to eat and then head back into town to catch some rugby in one of the city bars. However I ended up chatting to a lad in the room and by the time I got some food it was 10.30pm. It had been a long day, I had booked a trip out into the mountains for tomorow, I was tired. I decided to go to sleep.







Thurs 19th-Fri 20th Feb: To Wellington via National Park
















I left Auckland at 9am on an intercity bus going south to National Park in the centre of the island. I have a bus pass valid for a number of journeys and this is what I'll use to get around in New Zealand. I'm heading for National Park to do the 'Tongariro crossing' one of NZ's most spectacualr one-day hikes. You pass through 3 volcanoes on the route one being Mt Ngauruhoe which served as Mt Doom in the Lord of the Rings trilogy.
Its a beautiful morning as we leave Auckland and doesn't take long to pass from the city centre to the outskirts, no gridlock here. I was surprised to hear that Auckalnd has a population of 1.3 million. It doesn't have the feel of a city that large. Out in the countryside I immediately start looking for fields full of sheep. I don't see any. I hear later that most of NZ's 50-60 million shepp are on the south island.
We pass through Hamilton and on through green, rolling countryside to Te Kuti where we stopped for lunch. It was a small, quiet, picturesque town, nesteld beneath green, wooded hills. We left Te Kuti and entered hill country and the odd volcanoe reared its cone off in the distance. Looking at some of the smooth green fields that covered these hills and valleys I couldn't help thinking we were passing through Hobbit country. The whole Lord of the Rings vibe, no doubt is going to follow me around New Zealand. I haven't actually read any of the books so I'll have to try and make a start while I'm here.
As the bus approached National Park the sky clouded over. National Park itself turned out to be a tiny settlement a few miles from the big volcanoes which were now shrouded by the clouds. A 5 min walk took me round to the hostel where I am staying and I got a place in a 10-bed dorm sharing with 2 others. Another German/ Israeli combination. This is the second time in NZ that I've shared a dorm with a German and Israeli and both times they haven't spoken a word to each other. The forecast for tomorrow is terrible. Heavy rain and 80km winds. Normally the hikers leave the hostel at 7.15am and the lady of the house said she wouldn't cancel the hike until she saw what kind of weather the morning would bring.
I woke up a couple of times during the night and heard rain pouring down outside. Long before 7am I knew there would be no hiking today. A cyclone which had worked its way down the Australian east coast causing heavy flooding in Queenstown had moved out across the Tasman sea to dump the remnants of the storm over New Zealand. As a result we had torrential rain for the day. I wasn't going to hang about. I didn't have time. I decided to catch a bus south to Wellington in the afternoon and try to do the hike at a later dat on my waty back to Auckland.
After spending the morning pottering about, reading and looking at the internet to kill some time. A gaggle of blonde haired, blue eyed Scandinavians skipped around the hostel as none of us could go outside. We all looked at the rain pounding down. YOu wouldn't know there were some tall volcanoes a few miles away. Visibility was very poor. You could barely see the road 100m away. The bus to Wellington came through 40 mins late. As I waited I chatted to a middle aged couple from Dublin who, like me, had planned to do the hike but because of the weather were moving on. They were over to visit their daughter and newly born grandchild. THey must have been from a posh part of Dublin because I actually thought they were English.
Once the bus got out of National park the weather began to improve. We passed through a series of small towns with unusual Maori names, Raetihi, Kakatahi and Wanganui. We changed buses at Bulls for Wellington and as we got close to the capital city the weather closed in again. We arrived at around 8.30pm in a light shower. I hadn't booked any accomodation in advance and, what I or a handful of other backpackers hadn't realised was that most of the accomodation in the city was booked out. There was a festival on in the city over the weekend and the city was full of visitors. I went to four hostels, each of which were fully booked. In the last of these the girl at reception allowed me to use a phone around the remaining hostels in town. I was beginning to get worried that I wouldn't find any bed for the night. At last, I got lcky. One of the hostels said they had a vacant bed, the last one in the house. It was only 400m from down the street from where I was. So, relieve, I skipped down the street to claim my bed.
I was moving on again first ting in the morning so I went out for some food and to take a look around the city centre. Sure enough the place was gearing up for a festival of some sort. There were plenty of workmen out erecting stages. It was a Friday night and the area was busy with the usual crew out for the weekned. The street was busy with people going to and fro, heading for the bars, restaurants and clubs. Before too long I was back in the Hostel, showered and in bed, hoping without much optimism to get some sleep. I was in a noisy, 6-bed dorm. Regardless of the noiseit would have taken me an agae to get to sleep. My back still hasn't fully recovered from the burn itrecieved in Tonga. It has stopped peeling now but the skin must be very tender. Some soap suds got into a particularly sensitive area around my right shoulder blade and when the itch started it was severe, worse than pain. It came in waves which had me squirming in the bed. I couldn't get comfortable. I was trying not to scratch but the itch was so severe I couldn't lie still. I went back to the shower, soaked my back and then tried lying on a damp towel to ease the discomfort. Eventually I drifted off to sleep.





Tues 17th-Wed 18th Feb: Auckland




I got back to Auckland around 1.30am on Tuesday morning. I slept on seats in the airport for most of the next 5hrs and by 8am I took a bus into town. By now both Kathryn and Karri were in the air on their connecting flight to Australia. I got a room in a backpackers in the city centre and for the next 2 days I dozed, read and tried to figure out how best to get around the north and south islands in two and a half weeks. I went to the cinema for the first time in months and saw Valkyrie but otherwise didn't do much around town.


Mon 16th Feb: Leaving the Ha'apai






























Today I'm supposed to be flyin back to Auckland from the main island. The ferry we had hoped would take us down to Tongatapu was now 4 days late. There is a real danger of getting stranded in Tonga for a few more days, of missing the flight and being forced to pay top dollar for the next flight to New Zealand on Thursday. This morning we had to get up early to go to the airport. As the ferry to Tongatapu would not arrive until mid-morning it was becoming likely we would not get back to the main island in time. It is a 10hr journey by ferry between Tongatapu and the Ha'appai. We weren't fully sure if there was an early flight from Lifuka. Also even if there was we didn't know if there were any available seats. Myself Karri and Kathryn were up at 6am to find a taxi to take us over to the airport. We had booked pnre the previous night but when after, 20mins of waiting for him on the street, he didn't show, Kathryn phoned his number, woke him up and 10 mins later we were loading our rucksacks into the boot.
The tiny airport was empty when we arrived. We weren't even sure if there was a flight going out this morning such is the level of rumour and intrigue that seems to hang over the operation of public transport here. The front door was open so we went in and sat down in the main hall. There nothing else we could do at this time. It was 6.30am, there weren't any staff around and there was no plane to be seen. 40 mins later two men showed up. They seemed to be janitors or groundsmen and when we asked them if there was a flight due to leave for Tongatapu they shrugged and said they didn't know. Very soon more staff began to arrive and open up the airport. A lady at the check-in desk confirmed there was a flight coming up from the main island which had taken off 5mins ago and would be with us in half an hour. It was due to fly back around 8am. However, the plane was an 8-seater and it was fully booked. We could wait to see if everyone showed up. We explained our position, that the ferry some days late and that we had to meet a flight to New Zealand later this evening and what it would cost us if all three were left stranded. We reckoned it would cost over eu1,500 between the three of us as Karri and Kathryn would also miss onward flights from Auckland some hours after landing there. We didn't have a hope of getting on. We sat and waited. Watching as, one by one, the passengers arrived and checked in. All 8 showed and the check-in lady confirmed this for us. She told us to come back in the afternoon. There was a flight due out at 2pm and we could come out to try then. I asked how many people were booked on this flight. She replied '8'. I almost laughed. There wasn't a hope we'd get on then. The three of us looked at each other. We'd have to hope the ferry came in by 9am otherwise we'd have to start looking for new tickets on the internet.
We stayed on to watch the tiny plane land, swap its passengers for the new set and then buzz down the runway to start its return journey south to Tongatapu.
A family kindly gave us a lift from the airport back into town. We had breakfast in the guesthouse and pondered what we would do. What could we do? I went down to the wharf and got donfirmation at the ticket office that the ferry wouldn't arrive until this afternoon at 4pm. That was our last realistic hope gone so, basing ourselves in the Mariners cafe for the morning we trawled the internet to try for cheap tickets. It would cost us over 430 dollars each for the next flight to Auckland on Thurdsday. It would mean an extra 3 days on Tongatapu, and so I would lose three days in New Zealand. But there was nothing we could do.
Dave and Ruth were up and about. They didn't have to worry as their flight was booked for Thursday. They were sympathetic to our situation. We decided, for what it was worth to go back out to the airport at 2pm and would hold off booking new tickets until we returned. In the meantime for the next few hours we lazed around at the Mariners. Dave and Ruth got a DVD and I settled in to a hammock to watch that. We booked a taxi for 1.30pm. It arrived on time and we joked with everyone that we'd see them again in an hour. At the airport we went straight to the chek-in lady to remind her we were back intimating that thsi was our last chance and said how much it would cost us if we couldn't get on this flight.
We sat down and looked out onto the runway, waiting for the afternoon flight to arrive. We noted the passengers as they checked-in and as passenger number 8 deposited his luggage we felt our fate was sealed. A couple whom Karri and Kathryn had met up in Vavau came over and said hello and we began to chat. The guy, an aussie chatted away. We explained our predicament but he seemed optimistic. The flight was on its way up. He was here to collect some carg and had phoned up to get confirmation the flight had left before coming to the airport. He said "At least they're sending up a 19-seater". "A 19-seater........!!??" I bolted upright. "A 19-seater....!!!" Suddenly the odds of us actually getting on this flight jumped back in our favour. Now we began to get nervous. It was hard to sit still. We might actually make this flight.
THe plane landed and, sure enough, it was a good dela larger than the one this morning. The wait became agonising as the plane taxied to the terminal, the passengers disembarked and the luggage was unloaded. The check-in lady smiled at us but we had to wait for the pilots to come over. The decision to take us on board lay with them. The lady went in to an office to talk to the pilots. Hopes rose and fell as the discussions dragged on for 5 mins. The lady came out and told us to get our bags. We were elated. We couldn't believe we were going to get onto this flight. We almost ran to bring our bags over. THey were weighed and then left in a heap as further negotiations ensued. By now my heart was beating but I had the money in my hand to pay for the ticket. Doubts still lingered as these discussions were taking too long. Something wasn't quite right. The lady came over and said she could only take two. My heart sank as that meant I would be left behind. Karri and Kathryn couldn't be split si I would lose out. The plane was hitting the maximum weight it could carry. The runway on Lifuka was very short and so in order to be able to take off it could only carry a certain amount of weight. I was gutted. I pleaded with the lady. I'd sit anywhwere. More discussions followed. A lady was called from the waiting passengers. A conversation in Tonga followed so we didn't know what was being said. We had heard that sometimes when people have international connections to meet then locals have been dropped from the passenger list. Karri and myself were asked to stand on the scales and our weights were noted. One of the pilots came over and said that the Tongan lady had kindly allowed her luggage to be taken off. Oer combined weights came in just under the maximum allowance so we could all get on the flight. I went over and thanked the lady. Her luggage would follow tomorrow. Relief. We couldn't believe it. If we'd been gamblers we'd have made a killing on the odds. It had been a long shot but our luck was in today. Our luggage was taken away. Moments later the gate was open and we were allowed through to board.
This was the most satisfying flight I think I've ever taken. We sttled into our seats. THere was one moment of anxiety as we sped along the runway to take off. I did think it would be ironic if we crashed now. But we didn't and the plane jumped into the air. Very quickly we were looking down on Lifuka and then Uoleva. We had a beautiful birds eye view over the Ha'appai. It was a mixture of sadness and relief to be looking down over the the islands. The flight tokk 30 mins over green seas and small, coral, islands. We touched down, spent a few hours looking around Nuku'alofa and were out in good time to check-in for our flight to Auckland. The Tongan adventure was over.





Kelafi; An Island life

Jim the boatman gently eased the small outboard motor towards land. We had been ploughing through the beautiful warm, turquoise waters of the Ha’appai for the past 20 mins. We had left the wharf behind at Pangai, the main village on the island of Lifuka, and turned south to follow the islands palm strewn coastline. Daiana, our host had arrived with Jim at the wharf to greet us and now lay dozing at the bottom of the boat beneath a small shelter. There was a beautiful cooling breeze blow over us as the boat rushed through the water relieving us, for the time being, from the hot, humid air of Tonga. We were in the Ha’appai islands, a group of, perhaps, 60 or so islands just over 100km north of Tonga’s capital Nuku’olofa. Jim brought us past the southern tip of Lifuka and we saw the causeway which leads to Uoleva, the small island to which we were now headed. During low tide you can cross between these two islands on foot.

Beyond the causeway Uoleva’s low jungle covered form beckoned. Jim directed the boat halfway down the island and then gently nudged the boat’s nose towards a point of land where two beautiful palm-lined bays met. Hidden behind a line of coconut trees lay Daiana’s resort. This would be our home for the next few days. On the beach awaiting us stood a short lean man with graying hair. He jogged into the water as we came through the breakers and steadied the boat in the surf as we dropped over the sides into the water. He was a jovial fellow, beaming a bright friendly smile, and greeting each of us as we unloaded our rucksacks onto the beach. At the time I wasn’t sure who this man was but very quickly it became apparent that he was Daiana’s husband. His name was Kelafi. Together they ran the resort. Little did any of us imagine, as we walked from the beach, what a magical experience awaited us among the trees on this small, isolated point of land.

Uoleva is a virtually deserted stretch of island. There are no villages here, no roads, no shops. There is another resort a few hundred meters up the beach from Daiana’s but you would hardly know it was there. Almost nobody went there during our stay on the island. Daiana’s resort was a very simple, basic accommodation. It was set amongst a coconut grove on a point of land where two gently curving, crescent bays met. You could sit in Daiana’s and look out across both beaches. In each direction you could see soft golden sand backed by dark green vegetation which covered all of the island, and warm turquoise waters. To the west, sitting low on the horizon some 40 miles away lay the volcanic islands of Kao and Tofu, one dormant, one active. The famous Mutiny on the Bounty took place over there. In the evenings the sun set to the south of these islands and as we sat each evening on the beach watching the sun lower, we wondered how beautiful would tonight’s sunset be.

Daiana’s consisted of a collection of small traditional fales, a kitchen/ common room, and a toilet and shower. A cyclone hit the island two weeks before we arrived and high waves caused damage to some of the fales. During our stay Kelafi was busy building a new replacement. There was nothing fancy here, the fales was small, simple mats covered the ground and mattresses were laid on the matting. Mosquito net draped from the roof. There was no electricity. A full moon and hand held oil lamps provided light after the sun went down. Everything was simple, there were no frills yet Daiana’s resort was full of comfort, warmth and character. Over the next 10 days we swam on the reefs, we watched the sun and moon, we heard the constant sound of the surf only metres from where we slept and we listened to Kelafi as he told us tales of his island life.

Those of us who stayed on Uoleva were fortunate enough to meet a remarkable character. He was short with a lean, supple physique. His graying hairs betray advancing years yet his fit physique belies the fact that he is over 60yrs of age. Typical of most Tongans, Kelafi is friendly. His smile was one of the first things that greeted us each morning and it was usually there when he bid us goodnight as he walked with oil lamp in hand to the hut he and Daiana shared. Kelafi was a natural storyteller. He enjoyed an audience. His eyes would light up and his face became gently animated as he recounted a tale from the past. In his tales he could be a flamboyant extrovert yet he has a very quiet, reposeful character. During the blazing heat of mid-afternoon he could be found sitting quietly with Daiana under the shade of a tree outside their hut. Sometimes he would sit with his son-in-law on a pair of deck chairs and gaze north over the bay towards Lifuka as they waited for the heat to cool down so they would return to building their new fale. In the evenings after dinner as the sun dipped on the horizon and before the moon rose Kelafi struck out to fish on the edge of the reefs. His skill with a harpoon was evident as he would present to us at breakfast or dinner the following day an impressive array of fish and lobster to compliment Daiana’s delicious cooking. We marveled at Kelafi’s fishing skills not least because he had to swim in the dark while he fished but also because he had to swim with a harpoon, torch, and fishbag and manage all of this with only one arm!! He lost his right arm over 20yrs ago in an accident.

Kelafi was a very genial, hospitable host. He was a loving husband and father of three children. More than that, he was a storyteller, a fisherman, a champion boxer, a whale rider. From the happy tales Kelafi told us beneath the shade of a coconut tree or by the light of an oil lamp I began to realise Kelafi had woven a remarkable picture of his life in the Ha’appai. He told a compelling story and, in trying to piece together scraps of his tales I hope what follows does justice to his story.

Kelafi was born on Feb 23rd 1945 on the main island of the Ha’ppai group, Lifuka. The 4th child of 13 offspring his father was a preacher of the Weslyan church. The family lived in Pangai, the principal town on Lifuka. They had a house on the edge of town beside the church where Kelafi’s father preached. There was a shortage of preachers in the Weslyan church. Kelafi’s father was the only one in the Ha’appai so he was away a lot traveling by boat to preach on the other islands where there were villages, Uiha, Hafeva etc. Tongan society was very close knit. Other members of the extended family lived on Lifuka. The grandparents lived nearby. An uncle, who worked in the fisheries, operated in Pangai.

As a child Kelafi went to the local school with his siblings. He liked school but his mind frequently roamed elsewhere. He was fascinated by the sea, by the adventures he heard from fishermen down at the wharves. Looking across the water from the pier at Pangai he could see the volcanic cone of Tofu on the horizon. Tofu towered over 1,000m above the surrounding seas. People lived on that island and on its neighbour Kao. The fisherman often set sail for those waters to hunt big fish and whales. The tales of hunting giant fish on the high seas electrified the young Kelafi. His grandfather was a fisherman and, night after night, he would recount tales of life on the water, of exploits with fish, sharks and whales. Kelafi was captivated. He was very close to his Grandfather. Much closer it seems, than to his father. After school he would run down to the wharves to see if there was any activity. He would wait and watch for boats to pull up to the pier and unload their catch. He was a curious, inquisitive child. While the other children played games Kelafi pestered his Grandfather, following him around, learning to fish with spears on the reef, helping to feed pigs and harvest copra oil on some land the family had down on the neighbouring island of Uoleva.

During the winter there was always great excitement when fishing boats returned to Pangai with a whale strapped to the side. Whalemeat was a delicacy popular with the islanders and which Kelafi craved. The islanders didn’t hunt whales commercially but they provided a very good store of meat for the families. Now, over 50yrs later, he assures us “It tasted so very good”. Any whale that was caught was brought back to the island, cut up and shared out amongst the families. It could feed many. Surplus meat was hung high in baskets from the top of coconut trees, away from pesky little fingers and other scavengers. Returning home from school when there was whalemeat to be had Kelafi would look up longingly at the family’s store above in the trees and salivate until dinnertime when the basket was lowered and the meat prepared for the family to feast on.

As the years progressed the family grew large. More and more babies arrived in the household. In all 10 boys and three girls would be born to Kelafi’s parents. Kelafi moved to live with his grandparents. As he grew a little older his fascination with adventure on the high seas led him to try to experience these adventures for himself. On occasions, particularly if the men were going to hunt whales Kelafi stowed himself on board and hid in some quiet corner until they were a sea. On one whale hunting trip Kelafi hid himself beside the coils of the harpoon cable and he was only noticed after his grandfather had speared a whale and the cable was being played out when the injured whale made a run. The grandfather was angry with Kelafi because of the danger he had placed himself in had he become entangled in the cable but he lifted him up on deck and allowed him to watch the excitement of the whale hunt.

The injured beast was allowed to run as it tried to escape its hunters but the harpoon was lodged deep and the cable held. For 4hrs the whale ran before finally exhausting itself. The young Kelafi watched as one of the men dived into the water and swam to the whale’s mouth with a length of rope. Braving the presence of sharks attracted by the whale’s blood the swimmer tied the rope around the whale’s jaws to hasten the death of the great animal. Finally, when the whale expired it was lashed to the side of the boat. A black flag was run up to signal to other crews that a catch had been made. The job now was to get home a quick as possible. On the return journey Kelafi remained by the side of the boat looking at the great body of the whale. If he reached down he could touch the skin of the beast but he didn’t do it too often as he could see sharks hovering and every so often they would try to take a chunk of blubber from the whale’s body.
In 1958 when Kelafi was 13 his father, Osai, died. He left behind 13 children. This tragic personal loss must have posed immense difficulties for Kelafi’s mother. As the family of the local preacher they would have enjoyed a relatively high social standing within the very devout local community. Osai would have received a decent modest income from the congregations he attended amongst the islands of the Ha’appai. However, this income was now gone. Kelafi’s mother had many young children. Most were attending school, some of the older kids were at secondary school which required fees. Having lost her husband how would she now find an income to support such a large family? Kelafi, now a teenager, decided to leave school and harvest copra oil which he could sell in the market in Pangai. The oil was sold for export and picked up by ship sailing north. Kelafi’s mother argued against this notion wishing him to remain in school. But Kelafi, seeing the strain his mother was under, wanted to help. He could get decent prices for the copra oil down in the market and this money could be put towards the school fees for his other siblings. He felt it was the right thing to do. His arguments prevailed over his mother’s objections and she assented. Kelafi returned to live with his mother and helped around the house. In addition to copra oil Kelafi looked after the pigs on Uoleva. These would provide an additional means to supporting the family. Young suckling pigs were a delicacy in Tonga. With 20-30 female pigs he could bring a sizeable litter of young piglets to the market each year. There was a big market down in the capital, Nuku’alofa on Tongatapu. He could get good prices down there. Most families were self-sufficient in growing food. And with assistance from the extended relations the family did not go hungry. For food they would have garnered plentiful fish from the sea. Yams, guava, sweet potato, cassava, banana, watermelon and coconut were all grown on Lifuka. There was enough to go around.

He wanted to be like his Grandfather. He wanted to become a fisherman and skipper his own boat. Throughout his years he’d had to content himself with occasional trips on the water, accompanying his Granddad and uncle. Usually the fishing trips were short and simple. The men would load up in the evening and sail out to a nearby fishing ground as darkness fell. There they would set their nets. Once this was done they returned to shore. In the morning they would sail back to retrieve the nets and haul aboard whatever had been caught. Sometimes he went on longer 2-day trips to the deep waters around Kao and Tofu. Here they would try for the bigger fish. They brought boxed ice with them to keep the catch fresh until they returned to the wharves at Pangai. This was more exciting. He had gazed towards the volcanic cone of Tao all his life now he was sailing towards it on the open water hunting big fish.

Every winter the whales came. Swimming up from the cold Antarctic seas they always returned to these warm, shallow breeding grounds to mate and to nurture their young. It was exciting when the whales appeared, their great black tails rearing out of the water. Some came very close to shore through the reefs and the hiss of their breathing could be heard by those watching from the shore. By his late teens Kelafi was a strong swimmer. He had no fear of the water and as he grew strong he gained confidence of his abilities in the water. Something of his extrovert tendencies began to show at this time. When the whales came he would go into the water and swim with them. Others warned him of the dangers of sharks following the young calves but Kelafi enjoyed the notoriety he got from his exploits in the water. He was a bit of a dare devil. Then one day he went a step further. Swimming alongside a whale resting on the surface he clambered up onto its back. Others looked on aghast as he sat on top of the great beast. He enjoyed the rush of excitement, the danger, the uncertainty. He had no fear, he was drawn to it. Kelafi became a whale rider.
Whale riding is part of Polynesian lore. Each country shows examples from its myths and legends of great leaders and mythic figures climbing on the back of a great whale. In New Zealand tribal chiefs were acknowledged whale riders. In the Tongan legend ‘The journey of Kae’ a servant of the Tongan chieftain Loau returns from Samoa on the backs of two whales from the house of Sinilau. In more recent times in Samoa young men proved their valour by riding the backs of small sharks which had been ritually called from the deep. Kelafi had shown his daring, his valour by climbing on top of a whale but whether this act was celebrated or scandalized Kelafi didn’t elaborate.

Kava is the great national drink of Tonga as it is of most of the Polynesian islands. It is made from the ground root of the pepper plant. It’s not alcoholic but it is intoxicating when drunk in large quantities. Kava drinking can last through the night and as dawn breaks the kava drinkers stagger home unsteadily, their eyes bloodshot, tongues and gums numb from the Kava. A full day was required to sleep off the effects of the drinking. The strongest kava in the Ha’appai and, indeed, the whole of Tonga comes from the pepper plans grown on Tofu. Today the strain is reserved for special occasions but down through the years the Kava drinkers of the Ha’appai were proud of the fact that they were the hardiest Kava drinkers in all of Tonga.

Kelafi never took to Kava. He didn’t enjoy it so he avoided it. Instead, in his late teens, he developed a taste for alcohol. He liked the way he felt when he drank it. He was happy, it felt good. Kelafi had always been somewhat removed from ‘the crowd’. By nature he was relatively shy. While he enjoyed cavorting in front of an audience he was something of a loner and when the show was over he liked to return to his own pursuits, to find his own space. When he drank he felt he could become on e of the crowd. Around the time he turned 20 Kelafi went to a dance hall in Pangai. He had been drinking. He was enjoying himself and appears to have become the centre of attention. At some point the police were called. They approached Kelafi and asked him to leave the hall. Once outside they attempted to put him in the back of the police van. Kelafi relates that he didn’t want to go into the van. He was having fun. He didn’t know why he had to go in the van and decided to put one of the police men in there instead. A scuffle ensued and Kelafi was arrested for assaulting a police officer. He was convicted and served 6 months in jail in Nuku’alofa. The year was 1965. During this time Queen Salote, beloved monarch of Tonga who had occupied the throne since 1918, died. She had charmed the public in England when she attended the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II in 1952.

When Kelafi was released he seems to have avoided alcohol. There were no more episodes at the dance hall and today he drinks very little if any at all. He took up rugby one of the nations great sporting pastimes. Like everything Kelafi seems to attempt, he took to it with vigour. He trained alone, with his dogs. He trained hard and regularly. He used his time tending the pigs on Uoleva to run on the beach. He ran with his dogs, dodging and weaving, trying to outrun them. When they caught him he tried to run faster. He played on Saturdays and found a regular spot with one of the junior teams as full back. He played for a couple of seasons but rugby didn’t suit Kelafi. He was a loner, an outsider, happy to do his own thing. While he trained hard and played hard he became frustrated. Rugby is a team game. Sometimes it doesn’t matter how hard you try or how well you play you have to rely on the other members of the team. Many times, despite your best efforts your team will lose. Around this time one of Muhammad Ali’s fights was screened in Pangai. Kelafi watched the fight and was hooked. The fight was spectacular. He loved the grace, athleticism and power of Ali. He loved his showmanship. He began too train for boxing. Here was a sport where he could be self-reliant. In the ring the audience would focus on him. He didn’t have to rely on others. He would win or lose by his efforts alone. It was dangerous, one against one. He liked the odds. He was drawn to it. It was the mid-sixties.

Kelafi found a book that had pictures of training drills. He copied these. Again he trained alone and, as before, his training was intense. He always seems to be very focused in what he sets out to achieve, very singleminded in his endeavours. He became very fit. He was naturally fast, very agile. Rugby had helped to harden his body. He had taken the knocks and came back for more. In the ring he was dogged, fearless. He would try to overwhelm his opponent with speed and power. He reckoned ‘if your opponent can’t hit you back he can’t beat you. If Kelafi kept punching his opponent then his opponent couldn’t hit him back and there lay his secret to success. And he found success in his early bouts. He won more than he lost. He began to think about winning competitions.

As he improved, Kelafi began to focus more on what was required of him in the ring. He began to think more about how he trained and how he could improve his preparations. He refined his training. Each round was 3 mins long so Kelafi prepared so that he could box intensely in three min bursts. He worked on his stamina. None of his opponents could bring this kind of preparation into the ring. Nobody else brought this intensity to their game and so they suffered when they met him. Kelafi worked on his power. He was a middleweight but he trained to punch like a heavyweight. Speed and power prevailed. Kelafi doesn’t elaborate on any of the defeats he may have endured but 6 yrs after watching Muhammad Ali on the screen in Pangai he was challenging for the middleweight championship of Tonga. In 1972 Kelafi defeated the reigning champion. The wayward whalerider was now a king. In Pangai he was a person of note, the local champion. There was respect. He could walk around town and hold his head high. In the years that followed he was challenged many times for his crown and each time he prevailed. He reigned undefeated as middleweight champion of Tonga for 7yrs. Kelafi enjoyed having an audience. Performing in front of a crowd of people excited him. He loved the adulation, the notoriety. The thrill of impressing people with his skills seems to have inspired him. Sometimes he played to the crowd, toying with an opponent, prolonging a bout longer than he might have before finishing the fight. Once, when he was asked why he didn’t stop his opponent in an earlier round, Kelafi replied, “The crowd came to see a fight, they didn’t come to see it end in the first round”. He retired from boxing in 1979 because nobody would challenge him.

Kelafi’s final fight, the bout after which nobody would challenge him, was against a Tongan professional heavyweight based in New Zealand. A fight had been arranged between this boxer and the reigning heavyweight champion who was based on the main island, Tongatapu. The fight was supposed to take place in the capital, Nuku’alofa but for some reason there was a delay in the fight taking place. Kelafi is unclear as to how he became involved. Apparently the New Zealand based fighter had arrived in Tonga and, because of the delays, felt he needed a warm-up bout to keep thing ticking over. The boxing authorities approached Kelafi to see if he would oblige. Kelafi accepted the challenge and the fight was arranged for the Ha’ppai and took place in Pangai.

The heavyweight expecting, perhaps, to have the advantage over this middleweight may have underestimated his opponent. Kelafi loved the odds and relished his new role as the underdog. From the first bell he came out all guns blazing in his own inimitable style. Kelafi had the power to this slow heavyweight and he was fitter and quicker. The bigger man was overwhelmed and a one-sided fight came to its conclusion with Kelafi declared the winner. Having beaten all challengers he had now beaten a professional heavyweight. Nobody in Tonga wanted to face the whalerider. Kelafi was now 34 yrs old. He had achieved all he could in his boxing career. It would be a while before anybody would rise up to challenge for his crown. He decided to retire.

After his retirement from boxing Kelafi bought a fishing boat and became a skipper. He continued to raise pigs on Uoleva. He was still a bachelor but he began to fell it was time to find a wife. These were new, untested, waters for him. His search brought him away from Lifuka and south to Uiha, an island some 20km away on the far side of Uoleva.. One day a young lady caught his eye. She was a fine catch from a respected family on the island. Kelafi knew his search was over. He was in love. Daiana was a lot younger than Kelafi. She was only 16 at the time. Though his heart desired her there was no guarantee he would be able to wed her. Kelafi approached Daiana’s parents to announce his intentions for their daughter and asked permission to marry her. They sat down to discuss the marriage proposal. If Kelafi was ambitious in his boxing career he was no less ambitious in his choice of wife. Some generations earlier the mother of the King of Tonga settled on Uiha. Her descendants remained on the island. Daiana was related through her mother to this line and so is a distant relative of the royal dynasty which has remained on the throne. Daiana’s father was chief of Police in the Ha’appai and later on her brother became governor of the island group. This was a family with status. What could Kelafi bring to the table? They would at least have been familiar with the well-known former middleweight champion. He too came from a respected family. Kelafi’s father, Osai, would have been known throughout the Ha’appai as he traveled from island to island preaching the word of God. The family was noted for its fishers. Kelafi’s grandfather was a respected harpoonist on whaling trips. A match was made for the following year when Daiana turned 17. Kelafi had found a wife.

Daiana and Kelafi married in 1980. Daiana left her family on Uiha and the newly weds found a home on the edge of Pangai and settled down to married life. Kelafi worked hard on the boat, stocking it with ice boxes for 2-day trip to Kao and Tofu. He returned with catches, storing them in his uncle’s refrigerated unit in Pangai until the ferry came to bring them to the market in Nuku’alofa. The pigs were tended and each year the young pigs were sold for cash. Daiana was kept busy. She managed the house. A baby was born, two more would follow. They would have two sons and a daughter. Island life wasn’t easy but Kelafi was happy. He was a father. His wife was a fine cook. He had good food on his table.

Kelafi took on extra work when he could to supplement the fishing. In 1982 he worked for a local contractor on a building project. Louvered windows were to be installed on the upper storey. Kelafi took an armful of glass and started up a ladder to fix then in place. However before he reached the top the ladder slipped and Kelafi fell. Hitting the ground the glass sliced his arm to the bone, severing muscles and ligaments. It was a serious injury but with prompt medical care the use of the arm may have been recovered. Kelafi was rushed to the local Doctor who worked on the arm. The wound became infected and gangrene set in. The arm had to be amputated just above the elbow. It was a terrible loss for Kelafi, a fit man in his prime. The arm needn’t have been lost. There were bitter recriminations and the doctor was blamed for botching the treatment. He was removed from his position.

This was the biggest crisis in Kelafi’s life since his father had died some 24yrs earlier. He had to stop fishing. He couldn’t work and the healing process was slow. Unable to go to sea he lost his boat. The mental scars were equally difficult to cope with. All his life Kelafi had been a very active, vigorous individual. Losing an arm seriously curtailed his abilities. Simple tasks suddenly became difficult. When the arm had healed sufficiently Kelafi looked for other avenues of employment. The resolute stubborn determination he had displayed during his boxing career was again on display as he attempted to overcome his injuries. He refused to allow the loss of an arm to incapacitate him. It would appear if a challenge presented itself, regardless of the obstacles, Kelafi was prepared to meet it undaunted. He had to find the resolve to overcome this injury and rebuild his life for himself and his family.

Some months after the accident Kelafi left the Ha’appai to find work down on the main island, Tongatapu. He found it in the most unlikeliest of places, as a luggage handler at the international airport. Despite the obvious handicap of handling luggage with only one arm he surprised his employers and delighted the passengers with prompt delivery of their luggage. Kelafi thrived most when he was surprising people with his abilities. A one-armed luggage handler was indeed a sight to behold and Kelafi, once again, pleased the audience as he always did.

Until now Kelafi only ever spoke Tongan. There was no need for another language. During his time at the airport he learned English. He enjoyed meeting the travelers he met passing through the airport but in order to talk with them he needed to speak English. Slowly but surely he picked up the vocabulary. Working with the heavy luggage Kelafi learned to make best use of his one good arm. He found he could still use what was left of his right arm. He adopted. He remained on Tongatapu for a number of years. It’s not clear if Daiana and the children accompanied Kelafi to Tongatapu or if they remained on Lifuka. All things considered he had done very well on the main island. He had found that, despite his handicap, he could still do regular physical work. He had learned English and the travellers he met had introduced a whole new world to him. But the work wasn’t in his heart. He was a son of the Ha’appai, a child of the sea and that is where his heart remained. If Daiana had remained in the home back on Lifuka then it meant his desire to return home was even greater still.

By the end of 1986 Kelafi was back home. Although no longer a skipper he went back to what he loved most, fishing. Despite the loss of his arm he remained a strong swimmer. He could still swim on the reefs and he could still handle a harpoon. At night he would swim out to the deeper water at the edge of the reefs and hunt fish and lobster. His fish bag rarely remained empty for long. For three more years Kelafi worked the fishing boats but by 1989 he was finished on the water. Why? I don’t know. He still had his flock of pigs on Uoleva. There comes a gap of 10yrs in the story and that, unfortunately, is due to my own failure to ask the relevant questions.

Kelafi’s story resurfaces in 1999. By now tourism has become a feature of the Tongan economy. The annual visit of the whales to their traditional breeding grounds has begun attracting vistors to come and watch them as they frolic in the warm waters around Tonga. Tourist facilities have begun to appear in the Ha’appai. When ferries docked on the wharf at Pangai backpackers descended the gangplanks alongside locals. On Uoleva an American investor leased some land from the King and set up a small tourist resort adjacent to Kelafi’s land. Kelafi was taken on as a handyman after the resort opened. As well as helping to look after the resort Kelafi helped entertain the guests. He brought them out on the water, showed them where the best reefs were. He went fishing at night for lobster and fish and he provided pork from his own flock of pigs. Things appeared to be going well. Visitors were coming to the island. Kelafi enjoyed entertaining the guests. The guests enjoyed loved their visits to Uoleva. Most of the visitors saw the small, deserted island was as a little paradise. The water was clear, the beaches, pristine, the hosts were very friendly and the food was good. However behind the scenes a dispute arose concerning money. Furthermore an issue of honour created irreconcilable differences between Kelafi and his new employer. Kelafi stopped working at the resort.

However new ideas had taken root within Kelafi’s mind. The budding tourism industry in the Ha’appai interested him. His job at the airport when he first began to meet tourists had sparked his interest. He had enjoyed working at the resort. He now spoke English and he found he could easily relate to people. Daiana was a good cook. It would be easy for him to replicate what was taking place in other resorts. The family already had land on Uoleva and after some discussions with Daiana’s brother who was now governor of the Ha’appai the King leased Kelafi an attractive plot of land which sat on a small point between two beaches adjacent to his farm. It was a nice location for a resort. To finance the purchase of building materials for a kitchen block, toilet facilities and a number of beach huts Kelafi sold half of his pigs. He sank a well above a fresh spring which supplied water for the site and construction of Daiana’s resort began in earnest.

By early 2000 the resort was up and running. Daiana and Kelafi worked well as a team. In fact the whole family became involved in the new business. They charmed their guests with good hospitality, delicious food and a beautiful location. Of course, with a guaranteed audience, Kelafi’s extrovert antics periodically surfaced. On one occasion in 2002 he took some of his guests snorkeling, telling them he would show them some reef sharks. The others watched from the surface as he dived down along the reef edge and gently pulled out a sleeping shark from its lair. Without waking it he held it in his arms giggling to himself as he thrilled and terrified the guests in equal measure. Soon Kelafi found he was building more fale until they had 8 huts available for guests. Kelafi enjoyed entertaining his guests. His fishing was appreciated and word got out that Daiana’s resort was a place worth visiting.

During these years Daiana’s place received one frequent visitor who fell in love with the place. An American named ‘Leftie’ from Delaware would come to stay on the island for some months at a time. After one prolonged stint on the island he sat down with Kelafi to discuss the future. Leftie planned to return to Daiana’s and, next time hoped to stay for a year. However there was no boat at Daiana’s. Leftie suffered from ailments and was concerned at the lack of transport between Daiana’s and Pangai. A boat would facilitate his movement between the two islands and give him more immediate access to the medical facilities on Lifuka if a situation arose. Leftie supplied Kelafi with a sum of money to buy a small boat and he took the ferry down to Tongatapu to find a suitable craft. A boat was obtained but a problem arose when it came to transporting the boat back to Uoleva. The ferry company was demanding too high a price to transport the boat. Kelafi found himself in a bit of a predicament. He couldn’t afford what was being charged. After mulling over the problem he decided there was only one solution. He filled up the fuel tank, brought along a spare canister of petrol, started the motor, opened the throttle and set off northwards in the direction of the Ha’appai. Four hours later, after navigating the boat from island to island he moored the boat by the beach in front of Daiana’s. They now had a boat. Leftie returned to America with the promise that he would return to Uoleva in some months. However Kelafi never heard from Leftie again.

By 2004 the Daiana’s place appears to have been going well. By now it was an established feature of the backpacker scene. Kelafi was invited to attend an eco-tourism conference in the Cook Islands. He had never traveled outside Tonga before so, for Kelafi this was a major adventure. There were no direct flights between Tonga and the Cook Islands so it was necessary to fly to New Zealand before connecting with an onward flight to the Cooks. The conference went well. Kelafi enjoyed his time in the Cook Islands, mixing with the other delegates and not missing an opportunity to entertain his colleagues with some of his antics.

On his way home from the conference Kelafi stopped off in Auckland to visit members of his family who lived there. All of his brother and sisters had emigrated to New Zealand and had found new lives there along with many other Tongans. They tried to encourage Kelafi to join them in New Zealand but he wasn’t at all impressed by the big city. It was too large, too busy, too noisy. Kelafi was used to the quiet, slower tempo of life in the Ha’appai and was content at home. No, he would not be moving to New Zealand. He was quite happy to return home to Daiana. Just how impressed Daiana was by that resolution she hasn’t elaborated but she has said she would have liked to live in New Zealand………

Life was set to continue in the pattern which had developed over the past number of years but in 2005 Kelafi’s life took another major, unexpected twist. Some construction work began elsewhere on Uoleva and a group of local workers were contracted to do the work. According to the story these men went on a bout of drinking either on the island or on Lifuka, it isn’t clear. Wherever it was they started drinking they got drunk and decided to go to Daiana’s place. A group of 4 arrived in a drunken state and Kelafi confronted them. They wanted to meet up with either Daiana or with a woman who was helping them on the island. Kelafi had seen them approach, reckoned they were up to no good, met them on the beach and refused to allow them in to the huts. An argument developed. It became heated. While there were four men in the group confronted by Kelafi, it was one guy in particular who was driving the dispute. The men felt they could face down Kelafi. Kelafi was adamant they would go no further and had to leave. They argued they had every right to come over here. Kelafi argued they were coming onto his land and were therefore trespassing. He told them to leave or he would get his gun. They wouldn’t so he went over to his hut and did, indeed return with a loaded gun. The incident was beginning to turn ugly. Violence was threatened on both sides. Kelafi warned if they didn’t leave he would shoot. They indicated what they might do to him. Kelafi pointed his gun at the ring leader and shot him in the leg, wounding him. The other men panicked. They dragged the injured man away. A boat was obtained from somewhere and he was taken to Pangai where his wounds were treated. Kelafi returned to the hut. He knew what was coming and, soon enough, the police made an appearance. Kelafi was arrested, the case came before the courts and Kelafi was sentenced to two years in prison.

For the second time Kelafi was incarcerated in the jail in Nuku’alofa. He accepted his sentence. He acknowledged he was wrong to shoot the man who was known to him, a neighbour from Pangai. But he also pointed out he had been threatened by the group who were trespassing on his land. It was a terrible blow to Kelafi, and to Daiana. Apart from the stigma and separation from family and friends a lot of work had gone into Daiana’s place. Now Kelafi was worried what would happen to the place in his absence. After some months of his time had been served in the capital he requested he be transferred to the Ha’appai to see out the remainder of his sentence closer to home. This request was granted.

By the end of 2006 Kelafi had left the jail in Nuku’alofa and was back in the Ha’appai where he could have closer contact with Daiana and his family. After the death of King Taufa'ahau Tupou IV in September Pro-democracy groups who had been calling for free elections and democratic reforms began to agitate for change. The king’s son and successor Siaosi Tupou V, while in favour of change didn’t appear to be doing anything to implement these changes. In mid-November civil unrest broke out in the capital and rioting laid waste to much of the city centre in protest at the lack of democratic progress in the country. Eight bodies were found in the burnt out wreckage of the city centre.

A state of emergency was declared in Nuku’alofa which was not lifted until August 2008. By then Kelafi had served his sentence. He was released in January 2008. It had been a long two years and Daiana’s place had suffered. There was much work to be done. He returned to Uoleva, to his pigs, to managing Daiana’s place and looking after the guests. There was to be no long lasting bitterness between Kelafi and the man he shot. They resolved their differences and remain on good terms, happy to chat to each other when ever they meet. The new King, Tupou V has since promised reforms which will make way for a democratically elected Government. His coronation took place in August 2008 with five days of celebrations. Elections will take place in 2010 replacing the old system of representation by hereditary nobles and appointment of a prime minister by the King. Kelafi retains a strong sense of loyalty to the monarchy. He maintains a sense of pride in the fact that King Tupou I who unified Tonga for the first time in 1852 was reared in the Ha’appai. He was the hereditary King of the Ha’appai after his father but was born on Tongatapu. His mother brought him to the Ha’appai as an infant and it was on Lifuka where he grew up. It was in the Ha’appai he found his power base from which his warriors first dominated Vavau before taking Tongatapu to become undisputed King of Tonga.

On February 23rd Kelafi celebrated his 64th Birthday. Looking to the future he wants to increase the number of huts at Daiana’s place and replace those which were damaged during the storms in January. Presently there are four huts available to guests. He feels he could increase this number to eight. He would also like to work in tandem with some of the whale watching tours and dive outfits which are operating in the islands. In another year he will have been operating Daiana’s place for ten years. After working this leased land for a decade he hopes that he will be granted outright ownership of the place by the King. If he could achieve this in the next while he would be happy to lease Daiana’s place to interested parties who would manage the place. He and Daiana could then retire. However, for a man who seems to thrive on activity and trying new ventures….. and adventures it seems unlikely that Kelafi will walk away from Daiana’s place in a hurry.

Mon 16th Feb: Random island shots