The cloud cover breaks to expose an orange glow reflecting off Lion Rock and the black sands of Piha beach. I’m flying into Auckland from Sydney for a short lay over before proceeding on the Rarotonga. It’s a poignant moment to see Piha… a place I once lived bathed in what photographers call the golden light. Indeed as we proceed on to Auckland the whole city and Waitamata Harbor and its islands are smoldering with a golden hue from this sunset. Seeing it from above is magnificent and I find myself counting the volcanic cones that clearly dot the landscape below. Everyone is commenting on this spectacle.
It’s 2:16am now and I see glimmering lights out the aircraft window in what has been almost 4 hours of total darkness. I can feel and hear the landing gear being deployed. It’s a smooth landing and taxi to the terminal. Both front and back doors open and the humidity mixed with jet fuel and the scent of island flowers infuse the cabin, “Welcome to the Cook Islands” says the airhostess as I leave the rear of the aircraft “I hope you enjoy your stay” she finishes with a big smile… and how right she was!
Big brother Trevor is waiting for me, but not before Jake and his ukulele croon me and Customs and Immigration give their stamp of approval. I’m back in the land of my people… I know I wasn’t born or grew up here, but all of my family lives here now so here I am.
I’m staying in my dad’s place while he is in New Zealand and its a self contained flat so I’m comfortable and close to the main house to receive a Wi-Fi signal. My sister’s family has expanded by one since my last visit, a long eye lashed grandson called Donavan Keith Kelly. Both he and his older brother Jaydan are sometimes my morning alarm clock. They form the Kelly Boys Choir in an irreligious harmony of howling on occasion. More about Jaydan later…
Little has changed here since May 2009 except it is Mango, Avocado and Passion fruit season and the trees and vines hang heavy with fruit. I find myself in the morning walking around the property picking up the fallen fruits before the pigs, chickens and dogs indulge themselves. The dogs love a ripe Avocado it’s quite the treat. I’m still partial however to picking a Papaya and having it with fresh grated coconut and Lime juice.
Big brother has a treat for me… a trip to one of the outer islands of Atiu (pronounced, Ah chew). Atiu is different from Rarotonga in that it is a coral island as opposed to Rarotonga being a volcanic. The flight is in a small 10 seat, twin prop aircraft and takes about 40 minutes. The landing strip/runway is made from crushed compacted coral and looks like sand from the air.
Once on the ground you immediately get the feeling you are in a very isolated and slow paced setting and that is just what we are looking for. We stay at the Atiu villas that provide very comfortable accommodation. Rodger Malcolm (video) our host picks us up at the airport and we immediately connect with him and it becomes clear to him that we are not your regular tourists, but chaps looking for adventure and a laugh.
The south side of the island is very different from the rest, being the side of the prevailing wind, leaving the vegetation low and sparse. However, the rest of the island is lush with many small quiet beaches. The one thing that the whole Island shares however is coral underfoot. There is no walking with bare feet here… the coral will cut you to shreds.
Our first adventure is a guided tour of the Rimarau burial caves deep in the jungle. These caves contain skeletal remains of warriors from a famous battle between warring tribes. Marshall
Humphreys takes us into an underground world of moist glistening labyrinths, long tentacle tree roots, pitch-blackness, and white bones, all beneath a banyan tree that you could walk by and never know what lay beneath.
We later trek with Marshall to the Anatakitaki caves to watch and listen to the Kopeka (Swiftlet) birds chirp their way through the darkness to there nesting sites. Unlike Bats that use an ultra high frequency system similar to radar to navigate in darkness these birds use audible sound and listen to the echo. It is a marvel of nature to stand in complete darkness and hear these birds unique to Atiu fly past negotiating the twists and turns of this cave system and find their nests. Once the birds are outside the cave they never land and catch insects as they fly, only resting on their return to the cave. However, even hidden in complete darkness the birds are not always safe from the large coconut crabs that can climb walls.
After the tour we take a refreshing dip in another cave’s natural pool complete with candles to add light and ambiance. It’s a welcome break from the heat and humidity. Thanks Marshall (video) for an informative look and listen at the islands hidden underworld.
Next morning George “the bird man” picks us up for yet another unique Atiu adventure. George is an expert in the islands fauna and flora. Indeed in the front yard of his home he was able to mimic the call of the rare Kura (lorikeet) and stop it in flight making it land in near by trees. It’s quite the treat to see and hear George in action. The birds are so in tune with him that one species of bird the
Kakerori (flycatcher) would gather just by the sound of his pickup truck horn as we approached an area he knew they frequented, he also named to nesting couple as George and Mildred. George also shows us the Pacific Pigeon, and Chattering Kingfisher. But it is his ability to show how to live off the land armed with just a machete and ancient wisdom that intrigues me the most. We finish this tour on a secluded white sandy beach. Just us, the waves, and an assortment of fresh fruit served on a palm leaf plate inside a palm leaf woven basket he cut and made just moments before while telling us one of his many stories…
Our next adventure is to try out our underwater enclosures for our Canon G10’s. Yes, I know I said Canon, and that is most likely sacrilege for a Nikon shooter like me, but, hey it’s an okay point and shoot camera and it comes with an underwater casing option! We go down to the sinkholes in the reef but the wind and waves make it impossible to see anything so we decide on the Coral gardens instead for our first shoot.
This is a lot harder than it looks, the fish are moving and the current and waves keep shaking us around, making it tough. And after a few hours of fighting the elements, seeing blood in the water
from cuts caused by coral on our legs we ascend the coral gardens with smiles on our faces. We pick up a Noni fruit off the ground next to the car and rub it on the cuts, yes folks we are going native!
We are genuinely sorry to leave Atiu. The hospitality, the scenery, and the spirit of the people both past and present are locked in our consciousness. The flight back to Rarotonga comes with the same flight instructions to all passengers as when we came… “Have a seat, have a nice flight!”
Life back at the Kelly compound is the same and while the slow pace of the island remains it is still a mystery to me how there is still never enough time to get things done. I remember my dad saying that a busy day was one where you only had just enough time for one nap. 
The hot weather is still in force and Jaydan that cute little rascal is another force and on the loose. He is the only kid I know who can greet you with a smile and be destroying stuff all around him at the same time. This boy truly has an on/off switch and when that switch is on its pedal to the metal! Yet he is lovable, affable and affectionate. If ever a picture was worth a thousand words then here it is…
We have been getting reports of bad weather brewing north of here with the possibility of it turning into a Cyclone (hurricane) and moving this way. But for now it is more fruit picking, swimming with my underwater camera, eating my sisters great cooking, listening to the Kelly boys choir, meeting all kinds of characters, agreeing to having a free chest waxing (don’t ask
please… and I have new respect for women putting up with that pain) listening to hilarious stories about my brother from his work colleagues and indulging at the end of a hot and tiring day without a nap, with a Hokey Pokey ice cream cone.
It seems the tropical depression up north has turned into a cat 2 Cyclone with the sweet name Nisha but as I will come to see there is nothing sweet about her. The island is starting to shut down, the harbor is being emptied of ships, shops are boarding up, roofs are being tied down and there are no interstate highways to flee on, just a road out front of the house that no matter which direction you drive you will be back here in 20 minutes.
This looks serious so Jayne and I do what all would do when a cyclone is coming… we go to the islands only Indian restaurant and have a leisurely lunch. Then some last minute shopping on the way home, but Nisha has other plans. Halfway through the checkout process the power goes down taking out the checkout computers. We rush off to the only other supermarket and manage to get
some things while the power remains. On our return home we find the compound boarded up and the wind and rain up a few notches. A quick call to Trevor and he is on his way over to pick me up so we can go out and meet this bitch and take a few snaps… Jayne asks if we think we are reporters from CNN?
We quickly learn that hard pounding rain is painful on the face and not great for camera equipment, but, we mange a few shots before dark. The seas are getting high, the coconut palms are flexing and the rain is now horizontal.
Time to go home and hunker down. Trevor dubs me Anderson Cooper, but I must admit after the beating I took I look and feel more like Larry King.
The night brings uncertainty and all reports say Nisha will hit with full force around 5am the next morning. Things are hitting the side of the house and the howling winds gets stronger. I fear the louver windows that I have closed will break from the pounding. I turn on a flashlight and see that the pounding on the windows are the cats trying to get in. Normally the cats jump through the louver windows at night and this night they really want in. Their wide-eyed squashed faces against the glass make it all the more terrifying… What can I do but let them in.
It’s 2am and the wind has dropped, 4 cats and I are lying in bed. I’m the only one awake it seems and I’m thinking we are in the eye of the storm. It turns out that Nisha turned away to the west at the last minute and we are spared. The morning light brings relief and a huge haul of fruits on the ground ready to pick up!
The following day I catch a flight back to the USA and snow, snow and more snow awaits me in North Carolina. I hate winter… and besides there is no choir to wake me in the mornings and no fresh fruit outside to pick up!
Later…
For more images see my website Atiu Rarotonga