A Whale of a Time in Tonga

   Here is how to simulate swimming with the whales in Tonga. 1.  Click on the above picture to enlarge it on a new window.  2.  Hold a piece of plastic wrap over your eyes.  3.  Spin around in a circle.  4.  Splash some warm water on your face.  5.  Shake your computer screen up and down slowly while trying to focus on the picture.  6.  Drink some saltwater.  7.  Walk away from the computer screen briskly to see the whales moving away from you.  You have done it!
   Tonga is one of two island nations, Nieu being the other, which allow people to take an active role in whale watching.  Between July and November each year the humpback whales migrate from the cold southern ocean to the warm waters near Tonga to mate and give birth.  The proximity of New Zealand to these island nations gave us an opportunity to have a midwinter holiday and a unique experience.  As an added bonus, my medical school classmate, Steve Erickson, his wife Kathleen and son, Emmett had decided to spend some extra time in Vava'u, Tonga giving us a chance to see them before they make their way to NZ later this year. 
    The trip allowed me to completely fail as an underwater photographer, despite having two different loaner cameras from friends.   So the postcard is the best I can do.  See Steve and Kathleen's site, http://www.uliad.net/, July and August 2010 ships log, for some better pictures of the whales.  But to our credit, if you move the smaller whale to be above the larger whale in the postcard of the yearling calf and mother, this is exactly what we all have as a vivid memory of seeing on our swim with the whales.
     We went with Dolphin Dive in Vava'u for the whale swim.  After a relatively arduous day of travel from Kerikeri, through Auckland, to Nuk a'loofa overnight, then on to Vava'u, it was difficult to roust everyone out of bed on our first morning of our holiday to go see whales.  The down pouring rain at 7am when the alarm went off did not offer further encouragement.  The fact that I had been awakened by the 5am drums and singing of the faithful during the Wednesday predawn worship service at the church a mile away from our place, did make me realize that there is a higher calling for reasons to get out of bed in the morning.
    A quick breakfast and soon we were sleepily stuffed into the taxi at sunrise. Backpacks filled with swim gear, snorkels, towels, but not the forgotten water seal gasket for the underwater camera, along for the ride to Dolphin Dive.  The kids happily called out "pig" multiple times as neighborhood sows and piglets wandered along the pothole filled road into town.  As the New Zealander who manages the rental home for our stay said when he picked us up from the airport "Welcome to Tonga, where the pigs live in the street and the people are left to live in the pigpen!", so there were plenty of squealers for the kids to spot.  The ride left me hoping that the kids would have as keen an eye for spotting whales from the boat that day.
    My concern was quickly abated during our boat ride out to see the whales.  The stormy weather during the preceding days had encouraged the whales to move into the more protected waters within the island group.  Less than an hour after leaving the dock, Joe and McKeely were calling out "Whale!"  as we passed the western end of Kapa Island.  Soon our guides and group had spotted between 9 to 12 different whales in the area.   Our group of 8 tourists was split into groups of 4 for the swim.  Our family in one, and an adult group of people who had done some diving with our guides the preceding day, in the other.  Our slow pace at getting all our gear on gave the more experienced adult group the first opportunity to be in the water.   Our slow pace also left me to ponder whether dragging the kids out to have to slide off the back of a boat with twin propellers into the open ocean with 1 meter swell was such a good idea.
    Whale fever was the answer to that question.  While sitting on the swim deck of the boat, McKeely had nervously asked me to help her in the water, while Joel was paired with Kim.  I was prepared to be the valiant dad, who helped his children overcome their fears.  That was until the guide said "Go! Get in! Swim that way!" and I realized I was the last one sitting on the back of the boat.  I am sure I saw McKeely fearlessly drop into a trough in the water over half her size when the guide said "Go!".  Next thing I see is our two kids keeping pace with the guide, and Kim and I chasing up the rear.  And on our first swim with the whales, due to my delay, the rear of the retreating whale is about all that I saw.
    We had three more chances to swim with the whales over the next two hours.   Our second swim is the one which we all had the perfect view of the mother and her yearling calf swimming only 10 meters away with the backdrop of the coral reef.  Amazing!  As a final bonus, on our last swim, a group of dolphins had joined the whales in their ocean play. Unforgettable!  Spinner dolphins on the surface and a humpback whale in the deeper water. Being on the boat while the other group did their swim was incredible in itself.  Watching whales spout and breach their tails between 10 and 30 feet from the boat left us with full sense of the power of these wonderful animals. 

      The first day of our holiday was incredible, but some of the best parts of the trip were yet to come.  It has been thirteen years since I last had the chance to join Steve, and his then girlfriend, Kathleen, on the Salish Wolf in the San Juan Islands shortly after we had both finished our family medicine residency in the Pacific Northwest.  Now his family was inviting ours to join them for a day of sailing, snorkeling and relaxation on their beautiful yacht, Uliad.

      One of the things I cherish the most about attending medical school, is not the career that it has given me, but the hearts of the people that surrounded me as friends and classmates and enriched my life.  What an excellent time it was to see our next generation, our children, playing and learning together. 
     Steve and Kathleen sailed us out to Port Maurelle, where we anchored and let the kids play.  Emmett took Joel and McKeely under his more ocean experienced wings and snorkeled them around in the bay. Free diving to pick up blue starfish and large sea cucumbers.  After snacks and a brief rest, we took the dinghy to Swallows Cave and had a snorkel inside of the cave.  We spent an hour enjoying the multitude of colorful fish and coral, the brilliant blue warm water with 40 meters of visibility, and swimming out of the cave to peer over the drop off into the deeper ocean.

   We returned to Uliad, and were joined by Jenny and Otis, who like Steve and Kathleen, are fellow Americans who have been sailing their boat, Independence (www.sailblogs.com/member/indy/), around the world.  Otis had caught a tuna earlier in the day, and was kind enough to share some fresh sashimi with us, while we enjoyed some New Zealand pinot noir.  Terrific conversation with wonderful company, and soon sunset was upon us.
   Once again my time to prove that I am an amazing romantic planner.  You see, this all happened on the day of our wedding anniversary.  Last year, Kim and I spent our anniversary night sleeping with 14 of our newest farting, snoring, sweaty climbing friends at Camp Muir on Mt. Rainier.  With the darkness now upon us in Port Maurelle, the gentle swaying of the boat in the light breeze, the warm air, and the bottles of wine consumed, it was an easy decision when Steve and Kathleen offered to have us stay on the boat.  The other choice was a motor back to town and, hopefully, a late night cab ride back to our rental home.  The Erickson's quickly made room for us to sleep on Uliad, which was far more comfortable than the plywood bunks at Camp Muir.  Besides, I made steps in growing romance, as I actually was allowed to sleep next to Kim, rather than across the room on a different bunk like last year!

    The next morning sans toothbrush and contacts, a days growth of beard on me, I was able to enjoy the best way to wake up in the morning.  I had learned on previous sailing trips with Steve that the best way to wash off the sleep cobwebs is to fall overboard into the warm ocean.  A quick swim, a rinse of freshwater shower on the back of the boat, a cup of morning java, and good morning indeed.  Course then I realized I was still in my same swim shorts from the day before.  Steve, Kathleen, Otis and Jenny had entertained us the previous evening with stories of "Grotty Yachties" they have encountered over the years.  People who have eschewed hygiene while they are enjoying their sail.  Made me wonder if I was on the same slippery slope.

      We motored to Mala Island and had a snorkel in the Chinese Garden of coral.  Again a spectacular experience of viewing colorful fan coral and the fish surrounding them.  We followed this with a leisurely lunch at the resort on the island.  After lunch, the kids played on the beach while Kim and Kathleen did some beach combing.  I, like Steve, had noticed the approaching squall.  I could see the experienced look of concern in Steve's eyes.  Like good husbands trained not to interrupt their wives while shopping, I knew the decision Steve was needing to make.  Pressure Kim, Kathleen, and the kids to get in the dinghy for the ride back to the boat, or be patient and possibly suffer a rough and wet ride in a heavily loaded dinghy.   We made it back to Uliad somewhere in between the former and later decision when a bit of hell broke loose. 
    Rain had begun to fall hard and the wind was steadily picking up as we neared Uliad.  Just as the dinghy touched the stern a large gust of wind suddenly began unfurling the code zero sail (it's the one closest to Joel in the above picture) at the front of Uliad.  Imminent disaster in the making as Uliad, now with an unfurling sail, began to drag anchor, risking damage to the underlying reef.  Sheets attached to the sail flapping wildly in the now 40 knot wind, risking injury to young inexperienced children on board.  Add the noise of the wind generator turbine spinning wildly, loose swim towels flying about, a boat pitched sideways in the forming whitecaps, the down pouring rain and suddenly our leisurely lunch was forgotten. 
    Like all the good rural physicians I have known, Steve, unassumingly and quietly, excused himself from the back of the dinghy to jump into the fray to avert disaster on board Uliad.  Steve was quickly making decisions to have to cut the halyard loose in order to save the sail, while I was encouraging our kids to get below deck to avoid injury.  After the sail had crashed into the water, I made my way forward to see if I could help Steve.  It may have been 13 years since we last sailed together, and both of us were now missing a few more hairs on our head while the ones that remained have more gray, but Steve had not forgotten my limited value as crew on a boat.  He promptly had me park my rear on the sail to stop it from blowing away! 
   Order was soon restored on the boat as Steve and Kathleen started the motor, raised the anchor and headed Uliad back to Neiafu. Our families warmed themselves below deck while I joined Steve in the companionway as he steered the boat through the wind, waves, and driving rain.  I was reminded once again, that although there may be storms in our lives, there is nothing better in the world, than to be able to ride out the storm in the companionship of friends! 
     'Alu a from Tonga.