Landfall in Suwarrow

Since leaving Huahine five days ago, we’d been alone. An endless horizon without a boat in sight. No humans for god-knows how many miles. Not even any dolphins. The only other life forms being a few curious sea birds who occasioned by. Oh, and the stiff semi-dehydrated flying fish we discovered on the foredeck the other day.

As Sharon mentioned, we’d been killing time for the better part of the last two days and nights. Trying to go at a snail’s pace in order to arrive at the pass through Suwarrow’s fringing coral reef during daylight.

Charts for this part of the world can’t be relied on to be accurate. Many of the soundings, carried out by conscripts in rowboats with lead lines, date back over a century.  So, it would be madness to risk the unmarked and unlit pass in the dark, a lovely bright full moon notwithstanding.

As dawn approached and we neared Suwarrow, other boats suddenly started to pop up on our chart screen. First it was Taloa from Austria. Then, NaKika from Germany. And finally, Salty Ginger, fellow Canadians.  All four of us converging from divergent points of the compass, at the same time, to make the same pass.

Who called this meeting, anyway?

I’ve encountered the same phenomenon before – both when racing and cruising sailboats. Boats, even ones that start out at the same time from the same place, tend to scatter after a couple of hours. Then you’re seemingly all alone. Later, when nearing a destination – be it a rounding mark, finish line, port or landmark  – like magic, ‘everyone comes out of the woodwork’ and, like bees to a hive, converge.

As Sharon’s previous post indicated, we were feeling a little apprehensive because we didn’t have the required permission to visit Suwarrow.  We’d emailed our application five days previous, and followed up to confirm our expected time of arrival. But had received no reply.  

We needn’t have worried. The park ranger – Suwarrow is the only national park in the Cook Islands – responded when hailed by radio, and after answering just two questions – how many humans aboard and do you have animals – we were granted entry.  No problem that we didn’t have our pre-approval.  No surprise that we’d tried to comply, but to no avail.

Suwarrow, after it had been closed to visitors for the past three years, reopened in June.  Turns out we were not the only ones who decided to take advantage of the reopening.  In addition to the three other boats that arrived with us this morning, there were already nine boats in the compact anchorage.  Some of whom we’d met in previous spots.

We just pulled Turtlebones in and dropped the hook, when a chap from a neighbouring boat dinghied over to say hello and offer a few words of caution about the holding. The day previous, he thought his boat was well and truly secured to the sea floor. Then a big gust of wind dislodged it, setting off the predictable mad scramble as he and his family made repeated attempts before successfully re-anchoring.     

A few minutes later, the neighbour on the other side swam over. He introduced himself as Gavin, from Corner Brook, Newfoundland, and kindly offered to dive on our anchor to make sure it was properly set.  And, to tell us about the cruiser’s potluck that was planned for this evening on the beach.

So, besides the amazing bird-life, and aquatic sea life, the humans appear to be a very friendly and gregarious lot.  More than half are ‘kid-boats’. And, as we’ve witnessed, boats with children are highly networked, and often travel in packs.  Already, I notice a steady stream of dinghies buzzing back and forth between boats with kids at the helm and others – siblings or friends – perched on the tubes.  

Once anchored, and greeted, we went ashore with passports and boat documents at the ready, and the park rangers helped us complete the customs and immigration formalities necessary to check us into the Cook Islands.

Because Suwarrow is an important wildlife refuge, the ranger also took detailed stock of what we had on board. Invasive species, and contamination are a serious concern. There are four pages of park rules designed to ensure the birds, sea creatures and wildlife are protected and continue to thrive.  

While here, we’re only able to set foot on one of the islets – the one where we’re anchored and where the rangers live – aptly named Anchorage Island. It’s strictly forbidden to go ashore on any of the other motus – so as not to disturb the breeding bird colonies.  We’re free to take our dingy or kayaks anywhere in the lagoon, and to snorkel and dive freely in these magnificent waters.  Lots of rules, but we feel incredibly privileged to have the opportunity to explore this special place, and we’re more than happy to respect the rules which protect its inhabitants and their environment.