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Rarotonga: A new home

27/10/2022

Suddenly a month has gone. New house, new routine (why does work start at 8am?). Bike rides include two circuits clockwise, one on the upper road (Ara Metua) one on the lower road (Ara Tapu). Ara Tapu gives the tourist view of the island but I feel more at home on Ara Metua. I am tempted to write “Not a Tourist” in big letters on my shirt. But I am a bit, exploring new territory with each rotation. A few road branches cut inland between the mountains, narrow forested valleys hiding the water supplies for the island. Pigs and goats mow circles with their tether ropes. Lush tropical leaves filter the sun.

Work is conveniently positioned three hundred metres up the lagoon. I could easily swim home for lunch I thought. The lagoon current had other ideas, two strokes forward, one back. Lunch time disappeared as I finally pulled myself from the water at the Game Fishing Club. Time for a quick beer and story from one of the old-timers? Perhaps not enough Island-Time leeway yet.

The lagoon is pretty but sadly misses the 30% live coral cover of 30 years ago. 8% is the last measure, but that has climbed back from a low of 2%. So the environment does need some care and attention.

The office is alive with young bright people committed to making some difference. Meetings are refreshingly lively and fun but equally articulate and focused. The culture is welcoming and respectful. Our Volunteer colleagues ensure an equally welcoming social connection, Friday night lagoon-side drinks at Vaiana’s or coffee at “The Café”.

Our friendly dog neighbour makes an evening visit for a quick but excited play with Barb. Pity he hasn’t quite managed to rein in his mates when we arrive home in the dark. Dog dodging on the road at night explains why the tourist scooter road test consists of a quick weave through a series of cones.

Ocean Fresh usually has the sign “Gone Fishing” on the door. When the fishing boat finally gets back, word spreads like wildfire. Nothing quite like fresh tuna steaks or wahoo with banana chips. All I have to do is drop Barb in the queue and wait a couple of hours to collect her and the very fresh fish.

Such is the hard life of volunteers in Rarotonga.