Niue

One small label says it all, really, stitched into the neck of the T-shirt - Made in Haiti, Imported into Mexico; and sold on the other side of the Pacific in downtown Alofi with NIUE emblazoned across the front. Add 100% cotton (for an untouched environment), Do Not Iron (for a relaxed lifestyle), Tumble Dry (for an island surrounded by the world’s largest ocean) and in that fistful of royal purple cloth you have the essence of the nation. Children of Niuean parents are born all over the world, sometimes shifting countries and eventually, for many, coming ashore in the Pacific. Like Frank Bunce. He’s got the T-shirt, now, from that same little shop in one of the smallest capitals in the world. Born in New Zealand, he travelled the world as an All Black, played for Castres in France, Bristol in England and coached in Italy but it took years before he finally set foot on Niue, the Rock of Polynesia, so small many maps don’t even include it. There are only about 1500 Niueans actually on Niue, with the rest of the majority living in New Zealand, so people like Bunce can be forgiven for taking some little time to make it back to their roots, in this case the village of Avatele, his mother’s birthplace. But when he did, he wondered why he had taken so long. Niue is the top of a subterranean mountain so its edges slide steeply into the ocean, with precious little room for beaches except for those wee crescents of sand that have been tossed up by the fast and deep tide. Otherwise the cliffs fall straight onto the reefs or into the sea, although not without some magical Aladdinesque clefts. Togo Chasm is one of the most famous of these deep splits, at the end of a sea track that took Bunce through quiet and cool bush and onto bare windswept rock. At first he made the mistake of looking out far, far away to the distant horizon with nothing between him and that hazy indigo line; but it is down he should have been peering, down into an oasis that held the Pacific at bay on one low side and the forest at a teetering halt on the other high parameter. A ladder fastened to the cliff face took him down to the sand, a scattering of palm trees and a still dark pond. Looking back up, he appreciated that although Niue looks small from the air, it quite literally has hidden depths. Even deeper still, he realized later, as he walked carefully past an ancient, half-buried skeleton and into one of the many caves that tunnel through Niue. His guide, Ioela Magatogia, took no notice of the skeleton but for Bunce the bones were a reminder that in the so-called modern world, the demarcation lines between the living and the dead are just that little more defined. Little pools of black water dimly reflected the stalagmites and stalactites on their flat, oily surfaces and the air was still and heavy. When Magatogia turned the torches off, Bunce couldn’t even see his hand when it was right in front of his face; the darkness was absolute. It was different the next day, when the crystal beads of water along the fishing lines caught the sun on Willie Saniteli’s boat. Even though the water was the deepest, darkest blue, it still had a bright satin sheen and the tuna that Bunce landed had bright yellow markings and was as long as his arm. The only skeletons around that day would be that of the fish after the kitchen at the Matavai Resort prepared it for Bunce’s dinner. There are other ways to catch dinner on Niue. The coconut crab, the uga (unga), is a great delicacy and unlike other places in the world, there are still plenty to go around on Niue. It was to be Bunce’s luck on this visit that the uga simply hung around for him in broad daylight, instead of waiting for the night. Bev Mokalei took him into the forest for a lesson on how to lay the coconut baits to lure the crabs in the coming darkness, when he and Bunce would have returned to catch them. But there they were instead, just sitting waiting to be caught in the forest and on the side of the road, great delicious mouthfuls. Although born in the ocean, the uga is a land-based crab, which is probably just as well because if Bunce were to search for them in the sea, he would be distracted by two of Niue’s other great sights – the humpback whale migration and the playful dolphins. It was too late in the year to swim with the whales but there were plenty of opportunities for getting in among the dolphins. A pod of around 60 chased around the boat, ducking and diving and encouraging Bunce in. It was all the little Spinner dolphins needed to start showing off, darting through the water and leaping spinning into the air, all the while grinning that special dolphin grin. A little closer to the shore the reefs are uncovered by the tide, leaving behind deep and beautiful rock pools that more than make up for the lack of sandy beaches to swim off. This is the domain of Herman Tagaloailuga who is as fleet of foot on the uneven reef as Bunce was on the rugby field and there is probably nothing he doesn’t know about Niue’s reefs and seashells, from the electric blue fish that dart around the snorkelers to the valuable and desirable golden conch. From the ocean to the interior, Bunce followed Tony Aholima through one of his five plantations. Here is the flora and fauna of Niue and the type of gardens that long-ago a girl who became the mother of one of the most capped All Blacks, would have grown up around. Crop gardens are a thing of the past for many New Zealanders, so a visit to one is a reminder of how essential such a thing can be and still is, here on Niue. But it’s not all caves, reefs, sea tracks, dolphins and crabs. There’s golf; sushi at Kai Ika put together by a bona fide Japanese chef; Panini and a cold beer at the Crazy Uga; lazy Sunday afternoons at the Washaway Bar overlooking Avatele beach; walking and cycling through the Huvalu Forest; and watching the sunset with a cocktail in hand from the extensive decking of the Matavai Resort. And for Frank Bunce, born off-shore, it was also an unexpected homecoming. By Jane Warwick - who travelled to Niue with Frank