Tonga - Ha'apai

After a wonderful time in Vavaʻu, it was finally time to head south toward Haʻapai. The sail went much faster than expected. We had a perfect reach with a steady 20 knots of wind, and Tauha was making great progress. At the beginning, we could still see whales breaching around us, sometimes surprisingly close to the boat. But as the sun disappeared, so did the whales, and soon there was nothing but darkness surrounding us.

Alex sailed most of the passage, as I wasn't feeling particularly well. Once we were sheltered by the islands and the waves had calmed down, we swapped places. As we approached the anchorage around 3 a.m., we dropped the mainsail and furled the Genoa. We were almost there. Then we started the engine. And once again, no cooling water was coming. We had already seen this problem a couple of times after previous passages, so it immediately made us nervous. After barely three minutes, the engine overheated and we shut it down. Of course, this happened when we were only minutes away from the anchorage. We tried starting it again, but the same thing happened. So we switched it off once more. By now, we were right in the middle of the reef entrance, not exactly the place where you want to be drifting around without an engine. Alex went downstairs to check the impeller. It looked perfectly fine. But when he checked the intake line, he found it was completely dry. No water was coming through. We finally understood what was happening. During the longer passages, the intake line was apparently running dry. Once that happened, the impeller couldn't build up enough suction to get the water flowing again when we restarted the engine. While Alex was working below deck, I kept a close eye on the charts and the lights around us. There wasn't much time. "Alex, two minutes!” Then: “One minute!” Then: “Thirty seconds!” We were running out of room. There wasn't really enough time to figure out how to get the dry line primed, so I started the engine again. And luckily, just like on the previous occasions, water suddenly started pouring out of the exhaust. We finally knew what had been causing the problem and, more importantly, we now knew what to look out for after our longer passages. For the moment, though, we were simply relieved that the engine was working again. We motored the last few hundred metres into the anchorage, dropped the anchor, and finally climbed into bed at around 3:30 a.m.

But we weren't going to get much sleep. We had arrived on a Friday, and we wanted to continue south to the southern Islands, also known as the Lobster Islands, ideally still that weekend. We had read that for Saturday check-ins, you could message the customs officer and arrange an appointment. So, at 3:30 a.m., our final task before going to sleep was to send her an email asking for an appointment anytime after 10 a.m.

At 9 a.m., we dragged ourselves out of bed. Alex checked his phone while I was still trying to convince my eyes to open properly. She had replied.

At 4 a.m. And she had offered us an appointment at 9 a.m. Well... that time slot had already passed. We immediately messaged her back, apologising for missing the message and saying we would come as quickly as possible, probably around 10 a.m. So we threw the dinghy into the water and headed for shore, both of us still very much half asleep.

On our way to the customs office, I suddenly heard someone calling my name. I turned around, surprised, and saw another sailor coming toward us, a very nice Swiss sailor named Roger whom we had met earlier. He and his wife had arrived just a few hours before us and had also tried to check in. Unfortunately, they hadn't been able to find anyone, and it seemed that the check-in office was already closed for the weekend. He hadn't contacted the customs officer beforehand, though, so we invited him to come along with us and give it another try. And just as we reached the house, a car pulled in. Perfect timing. It was the customs officer. Everything went smoothly. We paid the required fee, but she didn't have any change. Roger, however, was incredibly kind and simply paid the fee for us. Such a nice gesture! On the way back, we stopped for ice cream and got change, before heading back to Tauha. And despite Roger insisting that it wasn't necessary, we made sure to pay him back. We had only just met him, and already he was helping us out.

After that, we finally headed south toward the Lobster Islands. The sail was beautiful and easy, with a few whale encounters along the way. When we finally dropped anchor, we immediately understood why everyone had told us about these islands. The Lobster Islands are uninhabited, surrounded by sandy beaches and turquoise water. Everything felt wonderfully untouched. That evening, we went ashore to watch the sunset, with a nearby volcano rising in the distance. It was August 1st, which also meant it was time to open the next of the letters our families had given us before we left, one for each month of our journey. So there we were, sitting barefoot in the sand, watching the sun go down while reading a little message from home. Sitting on a deserted beach, surrounded by nothing but ocean. It was hard to imagine a better place to open a letter from home.

The next day, we went snorkelling. The water was much too cold, apparently one of the effects of this year's particularly strong El Niño conditions, and the currents were strong at one of the exposed points. But the coral and fish were absolutely beautiful. At another spot, we swam over little underwater canyons surrounded by schools of small fish. They seemed completely unbothered by us and barely moved as we passed through. Eventually, though, we were simply too cold and climbed back onto the boat. By then, more boats had started arriving in the anchorage. Among them were Ferox, with German sailors Anja and Peter aboard, and Acer, sailed by the Canadian couple Maggie and Evan.

That evening, they invited us over for sunset drinks. We sat at the back of their beautiful boat, watching the sun disappear over the horizon while chatting and getting to know each other. It was one of those spontaneous evenings that somehow turns into a memory you know you'll keep. Over the next few days, we spent our mornings working on boat projects and our afternoons exploring the island. One of our goals was simply to walk around it. And it was spectacular. We walked along almost untouched beaches covered in countless beautiful shells, crabs and sea stars. At one point, we just sat down at the end of the island and watched the waves rolling onto the beach. When we eventually made our way back toward the anchorage, the other sailors had already started a campfire on the beach. It wasn't just Acer and Ferox anymore. Everyone in the anchorage had joined. There was a fire, drinks, plenty of laughter, and a lot of stories. Just all in all another beautiful night.

The forecast showed that the following day would probably be our last with good weather and manageable winds. We really wanted to go whale swimming, so we had booked a whale swim for the next morning and decided to sail to the next island that evening. The only problem was that the campfire was still going and we were having far too much fun to leave. So our departure ended up being delayed a bit longer than planned. Eventually, after the fire was finally put out and we had said our goodbyes, we headed back to Tauha and set sail. We dropped anchor around midnight, got a few very short hours of sleep, and were back in the dinghy at 7:30 the next morning. We were going swimming with whales! There was no time for sleep! When we arrived at the resort, we were given shorty wetsuits. I was happy to have one, while at the same time knowing that it probably wouldn't be enough to keep me warm for very long. Hopefully, the adrenaline would take care of the rest. Then we boarded a beautiful little boat together with another New Zealand sailing couple and their parents, and headed out into the open water.

immediately, we saw several whales breaching and swimming around us, but most of them would surface once before disappearing beneath the water again. Finding whales that were comfortable enough for us to swim with them took some time. Our two guides were fantastic and explained the whales' behaviour to us as we searched. We learned that the humpback whales come to Tonga during their mating season and, remarkably, spend their time here without feeding. This year's unusually cold conditions had also meant that relatively little whale activity had been reported so far, making it even more special when we finally found the right whales. Eventually, we spotted two large humpback whales resting in a reef area, a male and a female. They were lying in only a few metres of water, making it possible for us to get into the water and watch them while they rested. Before we jumped in, our guides explained how to behave around them. We needed to stay quiet, remain together as a group, and keep at least five metres away from the whales. And then we slipped into the water.

The whales were sleeping. Every 15–20 minutes, they would slowly rise to the surface for a breath before sinking back down again. We simply floated nearby, watching these enormous animals resting peacefully beneath us. Then, suddenly, they started moving. Their huge bodies glided almost silently through the water. The male came surprisingly close to us, and I instinctively backed away as he approached. It almost felt as though he was making sure we understood that this was his lady and that we were merely guests in their space. They slowly swam past us, and for a moment we were able to swim alongside them. We were close enough to see every detail, from their eyes and the barnacles covering their bodies to the beautiful patterns on their enormous tails. Each whale has its own unique pattern on its tail flukes, almost like a fingerprint, which is what allows researchers to identify individual whales. After a short swim, the two whales settled down again and returned to their resting position. We learned that humpback whales are able to rest one half of their brain while keeping the other half alert, allowing them to remain aware of their surroundings even while sleeping. And so the cycle continued: rest, surface for a breath, slowly move, and then settle down again. We got two incredible opportunities to swim with them. Two quiet, surreal encounters with these enormous animals in their natural environment. It was absolutely magical. By the end, we were freezing cold and had collected a few jellyfish stings along the way, but neither of us really cared. We had just been swimming with humpback whales. Absolutely magical!

Later that day, we went ashore for dinner. We had seafood paella and key lime pie together with the family from the whale trip, the New Zealand couple and their parents, as well as a lovely French couple we'd been chatting with. It was the perfect ending to an already incredible day. Over the next few days, the anchorage gradually filled up again as more boats sought shelter from the strong easterly winds. Our friends from Ferox and Acer returned, and we had some wonderful days. We worked on boat projects, visited each other's boats, went for walks along the beach, had drinks together, practiced German, and spent hours sitting around chatting while fixing the dinghy. Mostly, we simply enjoyed being there. The strong winds were blowing around us, but inside the anchorage we were sheltered and surrounded by good company.

On our last evening, before heading back toward the main island the following day to stock up, visit the school and check out for Fiji, we all went back to the whale resort for some kava. Kava is a traditional drink made from the root of the kava plant and is very commonly shared here in Tonga. Naturally, we wanted to give it a try. What can I say… it looked like mud, it tasted like mud, but we still had a fantastic evening! Kava is supposed to have a calming effect and leaves your mouth with a strange tingling sensation. We didn't feel a particularly strong effect, but it was still a wonderful evening spent together. And then, suddenly, it was time to leave.

Today, we sailed back through the strong winds toward the main island, mostly under our little jib. Tomorrow, after a final day on the island to stock up and get a few things done, we'll set off toward Fiji. Haʻapai has been incredible. Remote islands, deserted beaches, beautiful coral reefs, campfires on the beach and, most importantly, a swim with whales that we will never forget. And somewhere along the way, we may also have made a few new friendships. Even if some of them only last for this chapter of our journey, we're incredibly grateful for the amazing people, the unforgettable experiences, and the wonderful time we had in Haʻapai. Now, Fiji awaits.

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