whales – On the Horizon Line

brianna randall rob roberts resort tonga beach vacation hunting goats

The Great Goat Hunt of 2013

A few weeks ago, just before dinner with some friends on Fetoko Island, I heard Rob telling hunting stories. He was re-enacting past elk kills, and explaining how he stalked ungulates through misty Montana mountains each fall. I suddenly realized it was opening day of hunting season back home. Rob was probably a bit nostalgic — no deer or elk to shoot in Vava’u.

The next day, we left for a party on Mounu Island in the southern part of the Vava’u group. “It’s probably the best island in Vava’u,” Ben told us. I think he’s right. Mounu is owned by the Bowe family, palangis who started the very first whale swim business. In fact, they helped write the rules that allow people to swim with whales here in Tonga, which is one of only three countries where humans can swim beside these magical mega-mammals. The Bowes leased Mounu and run an exclusive resort on the sandy beaches. Check out the sperm whale bones that washed up this last month.

Their daughter, Kirsty, had her 40th birthday party on Mounu, and we managed to snag an invite. Rob and I set up our borrowed tent and yoga-mat-sleeping-pads, and promptly joined in the dancing and water fun. Little did we know that The Great Goat Hunt of 2013 was in store for Day 2.

Kirsty decided we should divide into teams of four, and head across to Ovalau, the deserted island just across from Mounu. Ovalau has a lot of goats. Too many, according to the Tongans, who agreed we should get a couple for dinner. Rob was psyched. So was I, actually…sounded like a hilarious adventure, and I always prefer eating local free-range meat.

Our team: Rob, me, Billy and Leonati. Billy is the lead ukelele player in our band, Riff Raff, and grew up performing in circuses all over Europe. Leonati is a native of Vava’u, loves to eat any type of animal, and has worked on Mounu for several years. We were the dream team.

Once ashore on Ovalau, the teams split up. The only rules: no guns allowed, and the first team that arrived with a goat wins. The dream team moved fast through the thick undergrowth, heading toward the eastern shore of the island. Rob wore perfect hunting attire: tight Speedos with a hole in the butt and a bright white shirt. Billy came a close second: long jeans, broken shoes with a flapping sole, and a button down shirt. I had faith.

Here’s how The Great Goat Hunt went down:

1) We heard the goats mewing close by. The men split up and moved fast (and not noiselessly) through the trees (which is when I lost them and wandered aimlessly for about 10 minutes).

2) Rob, Billy and Leonati came upon two goats. “Which one should I get?” Rob called to Leonati, the goat hunting veteran. Leonati pointed at the plumpest one.

3) Rob tackled the goat. Billy pointed out the swollen teats, which meant she was pregnant. “Shit. Wrong choice.” They let her go.

4) The men began stalking once more, heading toward the cliffs against the sea where they could corner more goats.

5) Rob and Leonati came upon another goat and herded her against the rocks. They crept toward her slowly, until Leonati could reach out and grab her leg. Done.

6) Leonati promplty slit her throat. Rob found a branch and tied its legs around it.

7) I followed the blood trail until I came upon Billy and Rob flapping back through the woods carrying a dead goat. The dream team reunited for the trek to the beach.

The whole thing took about 14 minutes. Our team was the first back, though the other teams arrived quickly. One other team caught a goat, but brought it back alive and then decided to let it go when we already had one to eat. No need to be greedy. We stuffed the dead goat in a giant tupperware box and took the boat back across to Mounu. On the short ride, we saw a tiger shark swimming that could have eaten about 8 goats in one swallow. It was BIG.

Back home, Rob and I followed Leonati back into the bush, to see how he’d prepare the goat for our dinner. Turns out it’s easy: use a Tongan blowtorch (flaming palm fronds) to scorch off all the hair, gut it, then put it back on the stick-spit and roast for a couple of hours over a coconut-husk fire. Voila.

I can’t say that goat was my favorite meat to eat, but I appreciated the adventure. And The Great Goat Hunt soothed Rob’s hunting jitters out here in the tropics, far from Montana’s roaming elk.

honeymoon island beach caves brianna rob

Hiking, Outdoor Adventures, Traveling

Honeymoon in Niue

Lime green and lavender. These are the colors of our honeymoon in Niue. Wait, honeymoon? Didn’t you guys get married a year and a month ago? Yup. But we never took a honeymoon, since we were gearing up for our sailing + travel adventure.

After six weeks aboard Compass Rose(y) and five months at sea on other people’s boats, we were ready for our very own bedroom. As much as we have enjoyed sailing on Rose(y), our crewing situation has got two main drawbacks: we have no bed or door. Rob and I sleep on separate settees (translation from boat speak = “narrow couch”) in the main cabin. As the tiny island nation of Niue came into view after several passages in a row, I sat next to Rob on deck and said: “Let’s get a room, honey.”

Rob upped the ante by announcing it would be our late honeymoon. Perfect. We found the last available room for rent in Niue and booked it for three nights (it’s high season in Niue, which means the one flight per week is full of at least 50 tourists).

Our first night on land after five months was AWESOME. Except when it started pouring in the middle of the night, and we both jumped out of bed trying to close the hatches … that didn’t exist … and realized that the floor was pitching and tilting like we were riding 10-foot waves instead of standing on solid ground. Weird. We jumped back in our big, cozy bed and promptely fell back asleep.

We slept so well, actually, that we extended the stay from “weekend” to “week.” The room we rented was in a local’s home right downtown, and we enjoyed the owner’s company — Lawes, a Niuean who now lives in Australia part-time — as well as his hot water heater, refrigerator, electricity, washing machine, and the patio that didn’t move.

Since it was our honeymoon, we decided to splurge on the most romantic thing we could possible think of — a motorcycle.

Motorcycles are the perfect honeymoon craft. You have to hold on tight to your loved one as he careens over wet, slippery roads. You have to wear helmets that make you look like a popsicle, and that bang together in a plastic-y love-kiss when the cycle jerks forward. You can’t talk, so you get to share a secret language of nuanced physical touches: a death-grip on a shoulder means “slow down, damnit!” and a vise-squeeze around the hips means “let’s stay out of the potholes, ok?”

Just kidding. It was super fun to have a motorcycle, especially once my legs unclenched after the first day (I’ve only ridden a motorcycle once for 45 seconds). Rob was a stellar driver, and didn’t throw me off the back even once. It did rain most of the time, so we had to wear our green rubber coats, which made us look even more like delicious lime popsicles. To top it all off, we got to use the cute little horn often to “beep beep” all the chickens off the road.

Back to the colors: lime green and lavendar don’t just refer to the color of our rain coats and helmets. Niue is 100 square-mile island plateau that rises 200 feet out of the sea, and is home to a whopping 1,600 people. It’s nicknamed “The Rock,” since the ground is made up of old, dead coral and limestone. The limestone is what makes the water look green. The coralline algae encrusting the rocks and caves is lavender.

Beneath the island is a lens of freshwater, which pours out of the island into the sea. This creates all kinds of awesome caves, chasms, and crevices to explore on land and underwater. It also creates a crazy blending of fresh and salt water along the shore, which makes things look blurry when the cold and warm waters mix. All sorts of fish frolic in the clear water, and whales pass by, too.

Niue (pronounced “new-ay”) is from ‘niu,’ which means coconut, and ‘e,’ which means behold. So, basically, the first settlers a few hundred years ago exclaimed: “Hey, check out all these coconuts.” One other fascinating tidbit: Captain Cook never succeeded in landing here. The natives all had red-stained mouths from a local root, and it scared the bejesus out of Cook and his crew, who named Niue “The Savage Island.”

All told, we’ve spent 10 solid days exploring this one-of-a-kind island, and highly recommend it as a honeymoon destination. Unfortunately, there are only two ways to get here: sail or catch the one flight per week from New Zealand. The other downside is that tomatoes cost $4 each — produce in general is scarce, and more expensive than jewelry.

As we bid “The Rock” a fond farewell tomorrow when we sail to Tonga, we’ll remember these top highlights from our Niuean honeymoon:

> Rob faced his biggest fear: sea snakes. The venemous striped sea snakes are ALL OVER the reefs here. Other than one chasing me for a few minutes one morning, they are totally harmless, since their mouths don’t fit over any part of a human body. Whew!
> Whales spouting just offshore, and singing under water.
> As many showers as we wanted, with water as hot as we could stand.
> Climbing through forests carpeted in coral into caves.
> $5 Indian rotis at the restaurant next door to our rented room.