(Peter and Misty left the UK in 1993, and since 2000 have been pottering around the South Pacific on board Tamoure, their much loved Oyster 435.)

From halfway around the world I could feel the Editor squirm when she read that title, but it’s not a huge grammatical lapse, just a reference to the northernmost island in the Tongan chain – Niuatoputapu – simplified to New Potatoes by linguistically challenged cruisers. And very tasty it is too.

We first visited Tonga in 2001, but for a variety of reasons – including a long wait for parts in Nuku’alofa and a tragic death in our Ha’apai anchorage following a 60+ knot ‘bomb’ – our impressions of the country weren’t very favourable. However, we kept hearing good reports about Niuatoputapu, and finding ourselves in Samoa in August 2005 were ideally placed to check it out for ourselves, since Niuatoputapu is actually closer to Samoa than to the rest of Tonga.

Despite reassurances from other cruisers that entry into the lagoon was ‘easy’, we were a bit apprehensive as it looked anything but easy on the chart – very narrow and very shallow, with a tricky looking dog-leg between reefs and shallows halfway along the channel. The Skipper scheduled a midnight departure from Samoa to give us plenty of daylight hours, in case we had trouble either finding or negotiating the pass, but such is the delicious nature of Niuatoputapu that we could have had a few extra hours in bed. For such a remote and tiny island the entry is extremely well marked. Some markers are even lit, though only the brave – or foolish – would come in after dark. Two easy-to-find approach markers lead you to a very clear transit, after which you follow the well-defined channel into deeper water, finally arriving in a large, sheltered lagoon with plenty of space for anchoring in about 10m depths. Easy once you’ve done it!

There is a tiny, palm-fringed motu (island) within Niuatoputapu’s lagoon, and outside, about five miles away, the island of Tafahi, a perfectly-shaped extinct volcano and home to about 100 inhabitants. After the hustle and bustle of Apia – a noisy harbour when there’s a container ship or two unloading – it seemed like paradise! Mind you, paradise has its drawbacks: you must be well stocked as there is little to buy; your rubbish is your own problem since there are no bin-men in paradise, and no laundrettes either!

Despite its tiny size, Niuatoputapu is a port of entry for overseas vessels. We’d been told that the check-in formalities were very laid back and so it proved, though in a rather different way than we’d expected. Friends came by shortly after we arrived – old hands, having been there about a week – and warned us that, such was the laid-back nature of the officials, they were quite likely to go through your cupboards looking not for drugs and alcohol but for ‘munchies’. This was definitely a first – hungry officials out to confiscate your digestive biscuits and any other tasty morsels they could find!

Certain measures were taken between Sunday night and Monday morning to ‘bond’ the ship’s Ryvita, and when our turn came it was delightfully informal and even rather giggly, with a bit of cushion throwing across the saloon, which you don’t usually encounter from Customs and Immigration! A total of six new arrivals over the weekend gave the officials one of their busiest days of the year. As the fourth boat to be checked in we tried to work out what their hunger level might be, but were assured by boat number two that the officials – four in all – would be sated, having just consumed a large grouper freshly caught that morning. They had lunched on barbecued fish at 1030, but were still peckish by the time they reached us an hour later. Mindful of the grouper I laid out a modest plate of assorted biscuits – gone in a trice!

The Customs Officer, meanwhile, was hoping for petrol, her car being a rare luxury in these parts, but we had none to spare. However I handed out four magazines – and more biscuits – and immediately the cushion throwing and giggling stopped. All was quiet. Pages were turned rapidly as Hollywood gossip was digested. I had got them settled down at last. Peace reigned for a while, until hunger drove them out and to their next prey. We’ve never had a check-in quite like it before.

With those two anxieties – the arrival and the foraging – out of the way, we were free to enjoy the place. And what a place! An enclosed lagoon, with water many shades of blue and pristine white sand beaches, reminiscent of the Tobago Cays but without the crowds. A dozen boats maximum, but for most of the time six or eight – just enough for socialising with no pressure at all on space. On the first evening we sat in the cockpit at sunset sipping cold G&Ts, and witnessed not only the green flash but also, just the other side of the reef, a pod of whales who put on an amazing display of acrobatics for us. Another first – we felt we would like it here! The whales breached regularly at certain times of the day. One evening there was a spectacular performance, with one almost coming out of the water and practically standing on its nose, showing us nearly the full length of its vast white belly. We’ve never seen such whale activity, nor so close, in all our twelve years of cruising, so it was a special thrill. The locals were a delight and one couldn’t complain about being pestered, something we hate. The occasional well-behaved dugout canoe would come by “... just for a see ...” as one explained. We’d been warned that children would mob us whenever we went ashore, demanding sweets and lollies.

Well, hardly! Four or six little brown people would trot up to you at the wharf, some of whom would ask “Where is my lolly?”, and as you walked through a village area the cry would go up: “My lolly, my lolly”, but they never took offence when no lollies were forthcoming. It was a well-rehearsed chant, but clearly over the years disappointment had set in and there was no pressure to comply. In fact, if the cry in years to come changes to “My pencil, my pencil” then we’ll be to blame! One shy little girl asked for some pencils. We don’t do lollies but pencils are to be encouraged! Another wee boy asked for paper – such simple requests coming from ten, eleven and twelve year olds. No Playstations or computer games here!

Niuatoputapu boasts three villages, three schools, one hospital, one doctor and two nurses. The hospital also has a basic dental surgery. No planes call at the airport following the demise of Royal Tongan Airlines, though in an emergency the doctor can call for a patient to be airlifted to the capital. There used to be a resort – what a location for a tranquil holiday! – but when the airline went bankrupt the resort had to close. A supply ship calls every three months. Our initial indignation at the petrol request – made even as Peter ferried the officials on board! – soon turned to understanding, as Customs and Immigration are located at the furthermost village from the yachts, and the officers are required to check in both national and international arrivals. With Niuatoputapu becoming more and more popular, no wonder they have a constant need for fuel! (Anyone planning to visit might like to note this.) We regard petrol as a potential fire hazard and tend not to overstock, but we hope to return to this idyllic spot and will certainly be more prepared next time. Payment is offered, though of course a gift would be most welcome.

There is one shop, referred to as The Store for reasons we soon understood. It’s in a large hall and about as far away from Safeway or Asda as you can get! The first thing I saw just inside the doorway were 18 kilo tubs of ‘edible dripping’. Ugh! Further exploration gives you some idea of the local diet – not too healthy! Tongans have a fondness for fatty corned beef, and root crops, which are easy to grow in the climate. There were no shelves in The Store – everything was on the floor in boxes still on pallets, fresh off the ship. Rice and flour came in 22 kilo sacks, though a set of old fashioned scales suggested you could buy smaller quantities. Baby items (there’s not a lot to do in the evenings except make more of them!), fishing gear and mosquito repellent occupied most space. Then tins, tins, tins from Australia and New Zealand. The ‘checkout’ was a laborious process, with every item hand written into a ledger – slow, but necessary for restocking.

The villages were generally neat and tidy and the inhabitants, at least on the surface, didn’t seem too unhappy with their lot. Horses, pigs and chickens roamed freely. A principal industry involving all the family in Niuatoputapu is the processing and weaving of pandanus to make the ta’ovala – the woven mat which is wrapped round the waist and considered the traditional dress of Tonga, worn on formal occasions. The best quality ta’ovala are made in Niuatoputapu and are highly prized in Nuku’alofa.Not surprisingly religion plays a large part in the villagers’ lives and churches abound. We met a group of women midweek, dressed in all their finery, who had gathered in one of the churches for a weekly meeting and a bit of singing. The West Indians have rhythm; the Pacific islanders have harmony. What exquisite voices – we never tire of listening.

Like all small communities, intrigue was rife! By chance we stumbled upon a spot of barely concealed warfare between two of the island’s inhabitants, each with a different agenda as far as the visiting cruisers were concerned. We got on well with both, and as observers could see an easy solution that would end hostilities, but unfortunately Niuatoputapu isn’t set up for evening classes in Interpersonal Behaviour! The Kingdom of Tonga is the only Pacific nation not to have experienced colonisation. OCC members older than me may remember Queen Salote riding through London in an open coach, despite torrential rain, during the Coronation in 1953. In doing so she won the hearts of millions, but was merely observing the Tongan custom of showing respect for royalty by appearing before them unprotected in bad weather. On Queen Salote’s death in 1965 she was succeeded by her son, the present King, whose benevolent if patronising reign may be nearing its end. He is 87, in poor health, and has been under pressure to reform Tonga’s political system*. Most of the government ministers, including the Prime Minister, are appointed by the King and are – conveniently! – members of his family, immediate or extended. Originally liked and respected, it seems that he and his family have been overtaken by the times, and ordinary Tongans are beginning to resent the power of the privileged few.

In August 2005 civil servants went on strike for better pay, angry that, while ministry chief executives enjoyed salary increases of close to double, many others received next to nothing. The strike lasted six weeks and brought promised pay increases of 60% to 80% backdated to July and spread over two years. This is a huge undertaking by a government with few sources of revenue, and raises the question of how Tonga will fund it. (Our officials told us they hadn’t been paid for five weeks – no wonder they were hungry!) No rebates were offered to the public for services that shut down during the strike – the Government still collected school fees, rubbish collection fees etc for services not provided. With the strike’s end came the largest protest march in Tonga’s history, when 10,000 people gathered outside the Royal Palace calling on the King (conveniently in hospital in Auckland) to dismiss the Prime Minister and all his fourteen Cabinet Ministers. At the root of Tonga’s growing discontent is the desire for democratic reform, and the Cabinet have now agreed to ‘consider’ setting up a Royal Commission to review the Constitution, with a view to allowing a more democratic form of government. Unfortunately – by law – the findings of any Royal Commission must go to the King for approval!

In February 2006 the Prime Minister – the King’s unpopular eldest son – stepped down, and was replaced by an elected non-aristocratic Tongan citizen, vowing to usher in ‘a new era in co-operation’ by making some major changes. It will be interesting to see what transpires. So even paradise isn’t perfect, but New Potatoes comes quite close! And it will always have a special place in my heart since, on our last evening – quite out of the blue and after nearly twenty years – the Skipper asked me to marry him!  * King Taufa‘Ahau Tupou IV of Tonga, died on 10 September at the age of 88. His eldest son, Crown Prince Tupouto‘a, has succeeded him as King George Tupou V – or ‘Siaosi Tupou V’ in Tongan.   

CAPTIONS Main Street, Niuatoputapu A beach-front ‘cottage’ Tafahi, an extinct volcanic island outside the lagoon The dinghy dock approach channel at low tide – not easy to find at high water! The only store in town Sadly, the Ministry of Fisheries has closed down Bleaching pandanus on the reef Local industry  A finished ta’ovala