Niue
Lit only by the stars of the Milky Way, Shimshal cut through the glassy, calm seas towards our designated mooring on the tiny island of Niue. Behind us lay a phosphorescent wake made by millions, perhaps billions, of bioluminescent organisms shaken into life by our churning propeller. The 580 mile passage from Aitutaki had been brisk at first but dying winds left us motoring for the last couple of days of our crossing.
I went forward to prepare to moor and Sally steered us through the darkness on a precise bearing with her night vision destroyed by the glare of our chart plotter. Nevertheless, her aim was impeccable and Shimshal came to a gentle halt at exactly the right time enabling me to reach down with the boat hook and pick up the line that now connects us to 2 tons
of concrete on the seabed. At 0130 the engine went off signalling the end of our ocean passage and the beginning of a week or more of shore leave. We had arrived in Niue.
I knew that our time in Niue was going to be special because of its reputation but my first impressions exceeded those high expectations.
A pod of silvery Spinner Dolphins sped under our bow as we approached our mooring. Lit only by the stars, the dolphins darted, ghost-like, on either side of our bow-wave as they guided us towards our resting place for the night. Then, once safely tethered to the seabed, the whales moved in. We couldn’t see them in the darkness but the noise of their spouting was all around us and they were so, so close. Every evening since our arrival, these gentle giants have visited the mooring field wandering, unperturbed, between the boats.
There can be no better welcome to a new island, a new country, a new culture and a tiny rock of coral and limestone perched on a lofty seamount rising 5,000 metres from the abyssal depths of the Samoan Basin. The island has no rivers and its porous rocks sieve out every grain of sediment making the water here gin clear. Perfect optics to view the annual humpback whale migration. We get to swim and snorkel with the whales on Monday after a forecast brief spell of inclement weather has passed.
The island is fringed with limestone pavements, weathered coves, caves and natural arches. Elsewhere there is thick, tropical vegetation dripping with ferns and fungus. Vanilla and ebony plantations add a little agriculture to this tiny spec in a big, blue ocean.
Swimming in the coral strewn rock-pools and scrambling amongst stalactites was the perfect antidote to rolling down the 3m swells of the mid Pacific. Most important, is the warm welcome, the fine cafes, a relatively well stocked grocery and a meal ashore in the Niue Yacht Club decorated with burgees donated by visiting yachts. The OCC’s ‘Flying Fish’ burgee is, of course the most prominent one on display. What few land tourists there are here have been flown in on the weekly 3 hour flight from Auckland. All are here to revel in this pristine place.
Assuming that we avoid being bitten by sea snakes, whose venom is way more deadly than a cobra, we will be staying on this lovely island for another few days before raising the sails and pointing the boat 240 miles west toward Tonga. We are now 3/4 of our way across the ‘Difficult Middle’ and, apart from getting pended in an atoll for 3 weeks, we have had no dramas, scares or mishaps. The weather has been kind to us, the forecasts accurate and Shimshal has looked after us well.