Despite past natural disasters and lockdowns, Tonga has successfully rebounded and is back in business, offering a sublime tourist experience. Photo / @fox_odysseys
Despite past natural disasters and lockdowns, Tonga has successfully rebounded and is back in business, offering a sublime tourist experience. Photo / @fox_odysseys
Elisabeth Easther visited The Kingdom of Tonga with her son Theo and discovered a thriving island nation that has bounced back from cyclones, a pandemic and a volcanic eruption.
On January 15, 2022, a submarine volcano erupted 65km off the coast of Tongatapu in The Kingdom of Tonga. It exploded with an estimated 15 megatonnes of force, equivalent to 15 million tonnes of TNT. It was late on Saturday afternoon and Glen and Karen Duncan from Kitesurf Tonga were relaxing at their home on the island of Uoleva, 129km to the north of the blast.
The quick-thinking couple made frantic calls to loved ones before the phone signal was lost. They sealed the rainwater tanks to prevent contamination from ash and possible acid rain, then they battened down the hatches of their idyllic eco-resort. Shaken to the core by the explosion, the pair hightailed it to the small island’s highest point, just 10m above sea level. As shockwaves continued, a mushroom cloud blossomed on the horizon and the sky went dark.
Back then, Tonga was still in lockdown following Covid but this eruption eclipsed everything. Yet somehow, a mere 18 months later, Tonga is back in business.
So what is it like to visit Tonga today? In a word, sublime, but with 130 beds on the western side of Tongatapu lost to the eruption, accommodation can be limited. At least it was when we visited in July, because not only was it school holidays, Tongatapu was celebrating Heilala, or King’s Birthday. A two-week celebration of feasts and balls, parades and beauty pageants, Heilala draws thousands of visitors to the island. There was even a rugby match, Tonga vs Australia, with Tonga triumphing amid much horn honking and flag waving.
With so much going on, we were grateful to have a room at Seaview Lodge, delightful digs right on the water not far from the royal palace, just a short stroll to town. And in just three days in the capital of Nuku’alofa, we packed a lot in. At Ancient Tonga we opened coconuts in preparation for a feast, then wrapped chicken, diced onion and fresh coconut cream in smoke-cured banana leaves, placing the parcels in a steaming umu to bake. We learned about traditional remedies and cultural practices, then perused the charming museum before sitting to a lavish lunch of ota ika (raw fish salad), umu-roasted coconut chook and platters of tropical fruit. One post-eruption positive, those heavy blankets of ash enriched the soil to great effect and local produce is flourishing.
Preparing food in Tonga — placing food wrapped in smoke-cured banana leaves in a steaming umu to bake. Photo / Elisabeth Easther
At Fehoko Oceanic Arts, a giant whale jaw dominates the studio. Master carver Sitiveni Fehoko told us of his dedication to the ancient art of bone carving, his skills passed down the generations. Cabinets displayed all manner of traditional objects, woven and carved, including marine-themed chess pieces made of hardwood and bone. A hands-on session had us making notebooks with Tina, rubbing patterns on to tapa cloth before snipping, folding and gluing. Craft can be so soothing.
About 24km from town, Katea Resort serves up a buffet and cultural show on Wednesday and Friday nights. Beneath an impressive driftwood chandelier, Tongan diaspora from Aotearoa, Australia and America reunited joyously after long separations. Grandparents proudly paraded smaller family members like trophies before our meal was blessed by a visiting bishop, and once the dishes were cleared away, the stage burst into life with song and dance.
Gorgeous blue waters of Kitesurf Tonga. Photo / Elisabeth Easther
Early next morning as cockerels crowed, the low mist of Sunday umu smoke signified the day was for feasting, family and church. With no church to attend, or family to visit, Theo and I popped out to Pangaimotu Island, a short boat ride from the mainland. As the sun shone, we swam out to a partially submerged wreck a few metres from shore, the rusted hull a haven for colourful reef fish. The day passed pleasantly as we alternated between snoozing and snorkelling alongside a small handful of local families and holidaymakers, and because all shops in Tonga shut on Sunday, we were grateful to Tanoa Hotel for packing us a picnic of sushi, salad and pawpaw.
But the best was yet to come, and on Monday we headed to the island of Ha’apai aboard a 17-seat twin-prop plane. Once airborne, we flew over picturesque white sand atolls dotted with palm trees. Our faces pressed to the windows, we exclaimed as humpback whales flumped their tails on the surface of the ocean.
Fifty minutes of flying time later, we touched down on Ha’apai and Glen from Kitesurf Tonga whisked us to the town’s wharf. We were surprised to see the streets lined with school children holding signs; rather effusive, we thought, for a couple of Kiwis, but they were actually welcoming the King of Tonga who was also paying a visit.
Room at Kitesurf Tonga on the island of Uoleva. Photo / Elisabeth Easther
No time to stop for a royal wave, Glen stowed us aboard Tropic Bird, his 8.5-metre rib and we motored to Ioleva, an even smaller island, decamping to a dinghy for the final leg of our journey. Once installed in our beachfront fale – one of just five set among quintessential tropical gardens – we declared our new home the personification of paradise.
A sustainable dream come true, solar provides power, rain the water, much of the food comes from the extensive vegetable gardens and the toiletries are from high-end organic brand āma. The comfortable fales are constructed from a hybrid of locally sourced materials and repurposed demolition houses from New Zealand. And don’t forget your drink bottle, because this place is plastic-free, a welcome contrast to some of the rubbish-strewn areas we encountered elsewhere.
Ending the day at Tonga with a breathtaking sunset. Photo / Elisabeth Easther
Following a magnificent meal at the communal dining fale – the first of many – we were lulled to sleep by the sound of the sea lapping the shore. To make life even dreamier, the next day was just right for whale watching. Our convivial group of eight had barely been on the water a moment, when a sharp-eyed scout pointed out a mother whale. Logging serenely on the surface, she cradled her big-boned baby on her tail, so we donned masks and snorkels, and took turns swimming to the proud mother in groups of four. Our guides – Paea, a soft-spoken local man, and gap-year Gerry from Adelaide – coached us on how to swim together, in a line, facing away from the whale. Never getting any nearer than five metres, when instructed we’d turn to gaze at the mother and calf. A day spent marvelling at magnificent mammals will be hard to top, from cruisy mums and bubs, to more energetic younger males joyfully thumping their vast tails and executing remarkable corkscrew manoeuvres.
Fallen coconuts at the shorelines stream. Photo / Elisabeth Easther
Five days passed quickly. When we weren’t watching whales, Theo and I snorkelled on the reef beyond our fale, alert to the snap, crackle and pop of the coral. We enthusiastically pointed out delicate kelp and corals, home to numerous species of iridescent fish, all long snouts and puffy lips, frilly fins and diaphanous wings. We kayaked and cackled with joy. One day, I circumnavigated the island on foot, a 10km round trip, and I fancied I was Robinson Crusoe as octopuses squirted in the shallows and casts of crabs etched the sand with their fierce red pincers.
To gaze upon a shoreline strewn with fallen coconuts, you have to marvel at the way new trees sprout from hardy husks, which brought to mind Tonga itself, the very model of resilience. Because in spite of having been through the wringer in so many ways, this plucky little archipelago is back in business.
