More from Motolalo (Tuvalu)

Sailing the South Pacific on a catamaran: For us it seems that the less the population, the more quickly we slip into the scene; thus we decided to linger in places that embrace us rather than make brief stops at more places. Our time in Tuvalu was spent between Funafuti, with a brief visit to the Naval Training School on Amatuku; Nukufetau and its off-lying island of Motulalo We couldn’t visit Nukulaelae as planned because all the fishermen on Nukufetau assured us it is too difficult a place to anchor.

Just across the lagoon at Nukufetau lies the long low island of Motulalo. In most winds it provides a better anchorage than off the main village so we spent a couple of peaceful nights. Manta rays cruise slowly by, flocks of black or white seabirds circle overhead, the reef dries and reveals and silently submerges again. A wander on shore became a bash through the bush, narrow but with such thick vegetation it was hard to reach the outer shore. Once there it was like a supermarket – any piece of plastic you wanted you’d eventually find in the stranded tangles of line, flip-flops, fishing buoys and containers.

In a cleared area, the only inhabitant, Femasino (‘I live here for the fresh air’) has a neat set up: small house and outbuildings surrounded by ducks and chickens, bigger pigs in pens that the piglets could slip in and out of depending on their level of bravery, hunger or curiosity; the one small scrawny kitten expert at smacking little piggy snouts at food time.

Femasino showed us the remains of the WW2 airstrip, almost reclaimed by the vegetation; we could see bits of wreckage lying around in the lagoon too. He became our provisioner, with cheery grin he’d deliver fresh tuna, coconut crab, drinking coconuts and pawpaw (papaya). We carefully explained the sailing superstition that bananas on board can bring bad luck; ‘OK’ he said, and then cheerfully delivered a bunch the following day. What can you do?? Well, heaps actually as we are a floating workshop/fishing/clothing store and sharing is a delight. One small boy who helped push the dinghy out at Nukufetau ran home hugging a ‘new’ t.shirt, stopping every few steps to wave and grin and GRIN.

But time ticks on so we sail back to Funafuti, stopping for a brief visit to the extraordinarily well-run Naval Training School which uses the isolation of Amatuku Island to recreate life on board. Spick and span, and labeled with nautical terms, the goal of many young men of Tuvalu is to be trained here, become crew on a commercial vessel and send money back to their families. Undergoing expansion the island is a busy place with new classrooms, dormitories and staff housing being built. However, we were shown an area that floods at high tide. Not over the small seawall but UP through the very soil. Global warming is hitting home here.

In Funafuti again it is plane day, twice a week, under the supervision of the whole population, a rickety old Convair comes in over the palm trees and jams on its brakes. Everyone is there, draping departing or arriving friends in shell necklaces, catching up with people they probably haven’t seen for….. days, we feel like locals as we meet up with old friends we’ve known for……hours. Draped with necklaces and carrying a gorgeous ili (feather fan) made in the Niu style, sailing out of the lagoon is tinged with sadness but it is a feature of cruising. No sooner are farewells made, tears shed and the anchor raised than we are scanning the horizon and thinking of the next destination……… Tofaa Tuvalu, Kiribati here we come.