We were the last to be picked up for the trip at 6.50 from the Diver's Lodge and off to the boat, a converted tug from Sri Lanka. 'Eua isn't that far away (30km?) but it takes 3.5 hours by tug. In a period of polite confusion, Helen ate the only breakfast provided [to her and I].
The (felt) heavy swell, maybe 1.5m, kept several people nauseous whereas I spent the time avoiding the waves washing over the back. Maybe not waves but a good bucket or two every thirty seconds -- imagine having a bucket of water sloshed across the floor at your feet in your comfortable chair...
'Eua makes a pleasant change from other ocean islands in that it has some height to it -- not much, but some. It also has a hard-rock ledge around the island and given that the water is easily 100m deep only 40m offshore means the full effect of the waves crash quite spectacularly onto the ledge and not dissipate on the shore. We anchored a couple of wavelengths (swell lengths?) offshore for our first dive.
Herbert, the instructor, has discovered a series of spectacular caverns with holes in the roofs so that you can be 30m in a cavern and still see perfectly. There's something to be said for the water here, it is very clear. You can see a good 30m and when the sun is shining (so they say) you can see 70m. Naturally, it is overcast with a wind blowing. There isn't much fish life (plenty compared to what we could see in Plymouth but nothing compared to the Maldives). The coral, however, covers the entire reef, huge varieties and colours which does make a change. The caverns are superb, brilliantly lit, sandy bottomed (which reflects the light all around). Picture perfect. [Sadly no pictures on their website.]
Back on the boat, all isn't so swell. For some reason the 1.5m waves/swell is making me, Helen, Pat and Chad sea sick. We all decline lunch and let the others tuck in. We weigh anchor and shift round the corner for the second dive. The equipment we're using matches Cliff at DTS' description of diving abroad: old, unserviced equipment, odd sets, warped rubber masks etc. etc.. Depth guages that were broken, alternate air sources get stuffed into pockets, shared computers and terse instructions. Still, no-one else seems alarmed, it must be the norm.
We head down via the Dog Tooth Tuna Chimney (no tuna) to the "Cathedral." Helen has taken on an extra layer (feeling cold) and despite extra weight is having difficulty descending. Equalising the pressure in her ears is the problem -- I have the same issue [sort of], mine is really because the mask doesn't let me squeeze my nose properly so sometimes I blow against my clamped nose and spray water around my mask thanks to a not quite blocked nostril. Actually, it's a bit more serious than that as not equalising your ears can cause an eardrum rupture, which hurts.
The Cathedral is a good 100m long, 30m wide and 20m deep with three or four "windows" in the roof. We ascended into one patch of surface water which was in turn in a tunnel between two patches of open sea. Other than the large blob of scum floating around it was a very wierd and impressive experience. My BCD didn't quite (ever) inflate so I was regularly doused by a passing wave.
We descended but Helen and Pat didn't so we helped them down, Helen having trouble with her ears again. Helen's air guage was in imperial measurements rather than the metric we're used to so somehow we reached a low air situation. Normally, this would be the signal to go up but Herbert wanted to go on a little. This in itself isn't bad as at shallow depths a low air signal should leave a good ten minutes (for us beginners) worth of air without any safety issues. However, Helen showed me her guage which had the needle moving as she breathed -- that definately isn't a good sign -- but there isn't a way of signalling that [as] it's not out-of-air (yet). So we stuck very close and fortunately Herbert was calling things to a close and we ascended OK. Helen, however, wasn't too happy.
The four sea-sickers stayed aboard for the final (no charge!) dive, a simple reef wall. Herbert showed me the beach for his intended resort [it] being held up in Tongan parliament for the last two years (they don't like foreignors owning land).
The night's guest house, Maxi Motel, a fifteen minute drive (in the back of a [pickup] truck) on the top of 'Eua was very well done. Several little twin/double chalets with a central eaterie/siterie and a (cold) shower and toilet block. Neatly trimmed grass, English-style planted "well heads".
They laid on the most enormous dinner, at least eight saucerfulls of different Tongan foods. We made a pathetic attempt at it in our corner even though our appetites were back. Mine seemed to come back when the engines were turned on. Wierd. At least Chad and Herbert and maybe one of the Germans made a passable attempt at polishing off their meals. The food was washed down with glasses of rainwater, the first time that I've tried it in such quantity and very pleasant it was too.
Maxi Motel, 'Eua S21.39354
W174.94514 Elev. 25m. 
Copyright 2002 Ian Fitchet. All rights reserved.