Tangaroa's Gold
photos courtesy of Sean Davey
by Sean Davey
posted 2006-08-31

the south pacific's new big left

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Like many things in life though, it didn't take much more than half an hour to prove it all wrong. The first ejection of thick chunder was reminiscent of watching the first domino in a line of hundreds begin to fall: as soon as one started; we were all doomed. Mitch got things underway, which got me started, which got Tim, the video guy, going. Both Tim and I put on an inspiring show in full stereo. Thankfully we didn't have to relive it all via someone's video camera.

I was thinking to myself: Oh well, best to get it over and done with early, anyway. Problem was, it wouldn't stop. In fact, things got much worse. The dominoes had fallen and were now being stomped on by a pair of hyperactive children who hadn't had their Ritalin in weeks! I spent most of the evening chucking my guts up and got to the point where I was actually looking forward to the next chuck so that I could put my head back down.

Our voyage to the outer atoll was 20 hours-plus, so it didn't let up again till late the following day, by which time I was a total wreck. I recall curling up in a ball on the floor of the captain's wheelhouse and thinking how stoked I was to be allowed to do so and thus avoid the dreaded climb down into the sleeping quarters. Pretty much most of the others ended up doing the same and the captain kicked us all out around 3am, by which time most of us didn't care anymore, anyway. That night was definitely one of the worst of my entire life - a thought that echoed through the boat.

To add insult to injury, the captain had to deliver over 100 cases of VB (Aussie beer) to one of the islands along the way, but wasn't able to off-load the cargo due to an unexpected rise in swell - so we chugged our way onwards with more than enough Veebs to lubricate the whole Mentawaian fleet. Unfortunately, we weren't allowed to drink 'em. No, we had a couple of very, very ordinary NZ brews to choose from - the kind that make you wish you had a fresh bowl of tasty Kava to stick your beak into.

Mark Healey and Makua have a little bet going with a few other Hawaiian locals: $500 to whoever spears the biggest fish this year. Mark's leading with this 60-pound ulua (giant trevally). "He's a maniac," barked Andrew Mooney when Tracks spoke with him on the phone. "The captain was scuba-diving like 135 feet deep, and Mark freedives down and taps him on the shoulder!"

The wind out here on the atolls is relentless. The swell's definitely there, but it's being shredded to bits. It's gloomy and overcast - surfing is not an option. It's getting very Groundhog Day-ish, day after day. Later that afternoon, we took the skiff over to the island, just to break the monotonous routine. There is nowhere to land a boat onshore, so it's a matter of jumping and swimming the last few metres and climbing up onto the reef. As you can expect, it's not a place that one wants to take thousands of dollars of camera gear, so we simply don't. The place was wild, completely untouched. We cruise for some time on the beach, marveling at the amazing array of wild shells everywhere and the abundance of local birds, mainly masked and brown boobies. Apparently the masked boobies are extremely rare with only a dozen or so in the area. Because there's no natural predators, they simply nest right there on the beach, and are quite approachable.

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