Exploring the mythology of Niue

By BRETT ATKINSON

We'd heard the rumours: an old man on an indigo sea; an after-dark hunt for sea creatures that fly; the old man keen to pass on his island wisdom. If only he'd return our phone calls.

Nothing is rushed on the tiny Pacific nation of Niue - fewer than 2000 people on a 240sq km dot in the Pacific. So why should finding one man be so difficult?

At last, a phone call. Reluctance from the master, then a three-day wait.

"It's too windy." "There's too much moonlight." "There's something good on TV tonight."

Finally: "Tonight we go."

We meet Ernie Welsh at the main wharf at Alofi.

He trained as an electrician in New Zealand, but is now a quickly retiring fisherman in his early 60s. He doesn't seem too keen.

"Did the tourist office give you my name? I told them I wasn't doing this any more."

So much for the master keen to pass on his wisdom. "I haven't really done this for a while, you know."

It feels strangely like we're encouraging a retired bullfighter back into the ring.

On a still and moonless night, with nothing good on TV, Ernie lowers his fishing boat into the sea. Boats must be lowered using a crane into the water on Niue. No sandy beaches, just cliffs cascading to a rugged reef. A few hundred metres offshore the shelf drops away to hundreds of fathoms. Predatory ocean fish patrol the reef.

Tonight we share the search for their prey - flying fish. It's a cross between butterfly catching and big game hunting, using searchlights and nets.

The United States Navy is extending the wharf and stark floodlights mix with luminous arc welding to heighten our surreal expectations.

I'm riding shotgun in a compartment in the bow. Our nets are 3m-long aluminium tubes with 1m-wide round heads. They are awkward out of the water, and impossibly unwieldy in.

The first half-hour is uneventful, with Ernie's promise of things to come sounding less realistic by the minute. On the reef the clear water is up to 10m deep, but looks impossibly shallow as large fish dart underneath. We see wahoo, sleek like barracuda, and trevally and snapper. The black and white stripes of the banded krait sea snake are everywhere, but no sign of Exocouetus volitans.

Suddenly out of the darkness comes a sound like an eggbeater. A squadron of fish jet past the boat. A predator fish jumps behind in pursuit. Propelled by their tails, the flying fish glide for 20m. Ernie reinstates his crash course in flying fish-hunting etiquette.

"Knock them on the head and then scoop them up. Catch them as they fly past."

Easier said than done, as we struggle with the nets. Poisonous striped sea-snakes tangle in the nets, much to Ernie's chagrin.

"I told you to leave those damn things alone. You're not very good are you?"

Drawing inspiration from such positive reinforcement, we develop our own successful variations of the technique.

Wait until they knock themselves out on the boat with a dull thump and scoop them out stunned, or hold the net up at random and wait for them to fly in.

Two other boats join us on the reef, locals who have perfected the art solo. A spotlight on their heads, one hand on the tiller, the other with a net. In their dinghies they prescribe tight circles on the reef, securing the salty flying fish as bait for bigger fish.

I'm shaken out of my reverie by a fish flying past dangerously at head height, and a second hitting me in the abdomen. It rebounds, stunned, into the water but I miss the chance to double my tally.

After 90 minutes we're performing more to Ernie's expectations. Thirteen sleek purple and indigo winged fish are in the boat, and his laconic Niuean-Kiwi attitude is now understated approval, glad he returned our phone calls after all.

"You guys actually did pretty well. Do you want to take some home with you?"

A friendly gesture Ernie, but we're pretty sure flying fish back to New Zealand is against airline policy.

Case notes

When to go

Between April and November is the dry season with temperatures around 24C. Between December and March the temperature rises to an average 28C.

How to get there

Royal Tongan Airlines and Air New Zealand fly to Niue from Auckland via Tonga three times a week. A return airfare is $1386 during high season, but package holidays offer better value. For example, an eight-night package at a three-star resort - including one night in Tonga - will cost around $1600 a person twin share.

Getting around

There is no public transport on the island, but there are ample rental cars, motorbikes, scooters and cycles.

Things to see and do

Shop for locally made crafts and gifts at the Tuesday and Friday markets (get there early). Golf, mountain biking, swimming, treks through the forests and exploring caves.

Currency

The New Zealand dollar.

Niue Tourism