Without a water maker (we catch rain water), I get a little nervous during dry periods. Although Wallis has frequent rain, there has only been showers since we arrived and we missed a couple of good ones.
The chief at Gahi took us on a tour of the island last Sunday. This came about because we had asked how to find the Tongan ruins, Kolo Nui, which we heard dated back to the original settlement of the island by people from Tonga, so he offered to show us. With the chief, we visited the ruins of a fort, which we thought to be 'Kolo Nui' but he explained this was instead the 'palace' for the Wallisian king in 1500. He told us that the Wallisians were here before the Tongans. He took us to another set of ruins, on the west side of the island, which he said were the Tongan ruins. The first site we visited had been well kept, even planted, the rocks cleared and the structures maintained.
Kolo Nui Ruins
This second 'Tongan' site was pretty much a pile of rocks buried in long grass with an occasional portion of wall sticking out. He said, was a lake nearby, where there had been a great battle and 200 people were killed. We thought perhaps this was a battle between Tongans and Wallisians, since we were in the area of the Tongan ruins. But, no, this was a battle between two tribes of Wallisians from the north and south. Apparently he was reluctant to credit Tonga with much in the way of history of his island. The legend said that the lake used to have clear water, with white eels swimming in it. After the battle, the water and the eels were red. This dissertation was carried on in French all the way down the path to the lake. We arrived at the 'lake', which was a sort of marshy area. He looked around bewildered, and I guess there must have been a bit of a drought, since there is no water of any color to be found. We also visited one crater lake, Lalolalo, which was a spectacular sight, deep blue water in a perfect circle with vertical rock sides, although it too had evidence of low water.
The laundry was building up and we were about half way through our drinking water. We had been told there was a washing well at Gahi, but upon inspection we found one woman doing her laundry in a grayish slimy pool and decided against that option. There is also a tap with drinking water there but I was reluctant to test it, given the apparent lack of running water elsewhere. The chief had told us the village pays for their drinking water, but would give it free to the yachts. A generous offer, so I did not feel I could use it for my laundry. We also had information that there is a spring for washing on one of the small islands at the edge of the reef.
We anchored at Faioa with Opus 4, and set off to find the spring. It too turned out to be in sad need of fresh water, a foul smelling green pit, breeding mosquitoes. At Faioa, we noticed we are in a sort of rain shadow. Squalls were marching down the lagoon all around us, and the main island was totally obliterated by heavy rain, but none fell on our decks. Foolishly, I made some remark about praying for rain.
Faioa Island
So last night we had our own little typhoon. Paul and Joanne had come over for a BBQ fish dinner. BBQ's on our boat generally a guarantee a shower, and true to form, by the end of dinner, we had to shut the hatches. We had moderately fresh winds all day, so we had been telling stories about storms and dinghies sinking, as you do. At about 1 am the rain really started, and we got up to fill the water tanks. The wind was howling by now, we estimated 35 knots based on our wind generator's performance, but neither boat have a wind meter. Water tanks full, I set about doing the laundry. Why is it that I always seem to be washing in the pouring rain in the middle of the night! As the tide came up, so did the chop in the anchorage, and poor Moonbeam, our dinghy, was bucking away behind the Blue Moon and rapidly filling up with rainwater. We decided it was too rough to bail her, so manhandled the outboard off the dinghy and onto the bracket on the stern of the boat. I wondered briefly about the shoes, petrol tank and other floating items but with the reduced weight Moonbeam had a better chance of riding out the storm afloat. Morning came and she was up to the gunwhales, but all bits still inside.
Poor Opus had a sad story. The bow of their dinghy was visible at the end of the painter, but the rest was hanging straight down. They managed to recover their outboard, oars and anchor but lost the shoes, snorkeling gear, and some other bits and pieces. It is still raining and all my wet laundry is hanging in the cockpit without a hope of drying but surely the sun will come out eventually!
