Suwarrow Atoll, Cook Islands

September 17 to October 1, 2009
Introduction and arrival, Potluck with the park wardens and yachties, Stories to tell

Introduction and arrival--14 Days in Cook Islands National Park: Lat 13 degrees.15’S, Long 163 degrees.06’W

The Cook Islands National Park encompasses 100 acres ringed by reef and a few islets. There is only one pass and the adrenalin is on high coming in. During heavy seas all is awash and I feel the force, and hope Zulu holds her ground. It feels as if the whole great Pacific Ocean is beating on my rib cage once anchored in 80 ft.

Suvarov (spelled Suwarrow, now that it falls under the territory of New Zealand) was discovered September 28, 1814 by a lookout on the Russian Mikael Lazarev’s ship, commodore in the Czar’s fleet. They were on their way from the port of Kroonstad in the Baltic Sea, via Australia, to Russian Alaska. Lazarev landed on the island close to the pass where thousands of sea birds nested. He filled his longboats with coconuts and sailed away. Thereafter, the Russians did little or nothing with Suvarov.

There were many ships wrecked on the low-lying reefs in years to come, one of which was the Gem, an American whaler on the way home from Cape Horn with a cargo full of whale oil and bones. They lowered 5 boats in the dark of night, and in the morning only 4 were found. They were later rescued, and in arriving in Samoa, found the 5th longboat and men who had drifted there from Suwarrow.

There are many stories of buried treasure, outlaws, pearl diver slaves, more ship wrecks and intrigues. An American writer, Dean Frisbie, landed in Suwarrow in 1923 and after some years, moved to Pukapuka 400 NM northwest. He told Tom Neale of this beautiful place.

From 1958 to 1977 the New Zealander, Tom Neale, lived his dream within the atoll on Anchorage islet--all alone. His small house still stands. I can imagine the sense of vulnerability he must have felt when storms unleashed their havoc: most humbling. Or when the hot, hot days brought a silent stillness to the clear waters of vivid turquoise and blue and the cooling breeze rustled the fronds of swaying green palm trees: calming. What a life. Far removed. Close to heaven.


The statue in honor of Tom Neale, who lived alone here from 1958 to 1977.


Tom Neale lived his dream here on Anchorage islet.


Vivid blues and lush greens of Suwarrow: calming. Close to Heaven.

We come through the pass late in the afternoon Thursday the 17th, after a 6-day passage from Bora Bora. Drop the hook in 80 ft of water. There are only 4 boats at anchor: Seren, Biscayne Bay, Valiam from Australia, and Zulu. A dinghy from Valiam comes up alongside Zulu with Bill and Linda from Autralia. They let us know there is a pot luck on shore if we are not too tired to join.

Potluck with the park wardens and yachties

Rather we have a bite on board, and then pump up the dinghy and go ashore taking a cold one each from the fridge. Tie the dinghy to the shallow pier made from coral. A coconut husk fire burns on the beach. Yachties from the three other boats relax in chairs or sit on a coconut log, or lounge on mats on a raised platform (fare) under a thatched roof. We exchange pleasantries.

Nicky and Deonie are healthy, vibrant young women from NZ and Australia, repsectively, and both are professionals in water management and hydrology. They are on board Seren with Deonie's husband Steve.

Garry and Lisa Cross, and their young son Jacob and Canadian crew Chris off SV Biscayne Bay got in a day before us from Bora Bora. Hmm his boat is a 52ft Irwin Ketch, and it was a ketch that came so close to us in the night in the vicinity of Maupiti, off Bora Bora.

He does not recall seeing us, but their autopilot was not working and all four on board had to take turns hand steering the whole way—including Jacob. Their trip was terrible Garry said. The pieces seem to fall into place.

The ominous clouds hanging low leaving Bora Bora, the laterns burning on Maupiti—to keep the ghosts away--the ketch seemingly heading straight for us, a flashback.


Nicky from NZ and Deonie from Australia sailing back to Australia from the Carribean. They are professionals in water management and hydrology.

A beautiful Cook Island women, Veronica, is turning fish on the grill with embers glowing. She is the Park warden’s wife. I don’t know who is who and the land seems still to rock under my feet.

John and Veronica from Roratonga, Cook Islands, are the wardens of this atoll 6-to-8 months of the year. With four sons their beautiful family is complete: Jeremiah, 14 years old;Jonathan (Johna) 10 years old, and twins Augustine (Tine) and Giovanni (Vanni), 8 years old.

They all have a quiet sense of intelligence, respecting each other and their surroundings, sharing the beauty of this remote setting. John is unassuming. He has a presence, though, that commands quiet authority. They are a happy family living in a pristine national park second to none for perfect beauty.



John, the Warden of Suwarrof, Cook Islands National Park.


Veronica holds Warden responsibilities on Suwarrow, checking cruising yachts in and out and looking after a beautiful family. She has eagle eyes, spotting things from miles away.


Jeremiah holding two tunas just caught and ready for the grill.


Twins Tine and Vanni, and Jona enjoy the fire and wait for the popcorn to pop.

It starts raining. The food is laid out under the shelter: fish in large amounts (Mahi Mahi caught just outside the pass by Steve off SV Seren, Tuna, and Napoleaon Wrasse caught by John on a hand line and sauted in ginger-garlic-soya sauce), rice, cabbage salad, coconut pancakes.

All find their place in line and the four boys are animated in serving themselves. They have good appetites. This is the first time I hear the Cook Island accent: an island version of the New Zealand accent, absolutely refreshing. Then throw in the mix of Australian accents, one American, one ex-South African and you have a Suwarrow bouillabaisse. Bon appétit!

“Those French, they like to hunt!” John says. “As soon as they get here they want to go and get lobster or spear fish”. I tell them that is against the rules. And when they ask why? I say, because I said so.” And he laughs and takes a sip of a little bit of rum with green coconut milk for the mix.

“They don’t understand that this is a national park and the sea life, coral, birds, turtles need to be protected.”

Veronica lies down on a soft mat with her head propped up by her elbow. She smiles a beautiful smile. Relaxed and drinks in the ambience.

Stories to tell

John tells the story of how he had to sink a sailboat.

“It was dismasted and derelict and a danger to other yachts if it dragged anchor. The owner got in a storm coming here from Mopelia and just left it here. What else could he do? There is nothing here to fix it with. I called my boss in Roratonga. Hey boss, what do you want me to do with this boat?

He told me to sink it! But I was not going to be their guinea pig and get into trouble with the law as a consequence. So I waited until the word got to the owner. Then a friend of the owner came to Suwarrow with a letter saying I had permission to sink the boat. So I called all the yachties on the VHF and said we need to have a meeting. I need your help to sink this boat.

I took the “Tinny” (tin dinghy) and three other yachties brought their dinghies and we towed it out the pass. There were some yachties on the deck of the boat taking photographs can you believe. Then we pulled the plug and watched it sink in a thousand feet of water. And that was that. We pulled the plug.”

He sighed, sipping on his rum drink and licking his lips and cocking his head to the side.

“Yes Suwarrow has its stories to tell.” He said.

“What else has happened of note recently?” I asked as the rain gently fell and the fire burned down and all slipped into more of a reclining position.

“There was a wedding held here this August.” John smiled wide and Veronica smiled too, raising her eyebrows in confirmation.

“The bride and groom were looking for a place to get married and they choose Suwarrow. There were 25 boats in attendance! One of the yachties made moon shine from green coconut juice in preparation for the big day. He knew what he was doing alright and we’d go and test it as the process progressed. ” He smiled wide and blinked his eyes shut as if savoring those moments.

“We plaited palm fronds and the wedding party wore them as headbands. And we made an arch from palm leaves too. A woman on one of the boats brought her harp ashore (Bobby Joe of SV Hipnautical). And when she put it on the coral wharf the wind played music of its own across the strings. Whoang whoang aang. Someone played the mandolin, and I played my guitar. Veronica smiled sleepily, reliving the sounds of music: Cool Waters from the Little River Band.”

“What colour was the bride’s dress?” I asked.

“Pink.” Veronica replied. She raised her eyebrows again as if to indicate beautiful.

“They got married right here on this beach on this atoll. John said proudly. A skipper from one of the yachts married them. A skipper can have a license to marry people.”

We sat some time in silence envisioning the wedding ceremony. We could almost see the bride and groom and hear the music and the waves breaking, and taste the moonshine.

The rain stopped and slowly we all gathered ourselves and said goodnight and went out in the dark night to find our dinghies and our boats at anchor.

“Oh no we forgot to put our anchor light on!” I said.

“Yeah, some sailors from our club in Perth were rowing out to their boat one night when the wind took them out to sea and they died” Linda, an Ozzie women said in a clipped accent. Not too reassuring.

They, too, had forgotten to put their anchor light on.

“Another lot ran into the anchor chain of a yacht at full speed and got decapitated!!” She further emphasized.

Startling comments for a dark, rainy night, as we slowly passed a boat at anchor too close to their chain, arriving safe at the sides of Zulu. Step aboard.

Sleep the whole night through, gently rocking. No watches to stand. Just dreams to dream of stories told in this faraway ocean wonderland of Suwarrow.