Perilous Paradise - Gold Country Families E-Magazine

It is said that Mother Nature has a way of bring out the best and the worst in all of us. Being trapped on a desert island in the middle of the South Pacific with four people can have some profound changes on the way a person thinks and relates to others. I learned a number

of life’s lessons from having been marooned in a hostile environment where the elements were in complete control of our destiny.

It only takes about an hour to walk around the entire island of Takutea. The island is a sanctuary for dozens of endangered species of marine birds and is one of those remote places where giant sea turtles feel safe enough to crawl on shore to lay their eggs. The surrounding waters are a diver's dream come true because of the rich coral gardens located beneath the waves that support a diversified ecosystem. It is a true South Pacific desert-island; no one can live there because there isn’t any fresh running water or shelter of any kind.

As you walk the beach, the blinding glare off the white sand is so intense that you feel as though you're looking directly into the sun. This is truly a place where eye protection is a must and has absolutely nothing to do with fashion.

The interior of the island consists of a dense coconut jungle. It would be difficult to attempt walking across the millions of coconuts that have piled up on the ground, in some places the nuts are three feet deep. It is easy to understand why the giant coconut crabs have developed such enormous claws powerful enough to break right through such hard shells.

There is a barrier reef which surrounds the entire island and protects it from typhoons. In most places, the jagged reef extends out to about a hundred yards before plummeting into the depths below. When the conditions are calm and the water is only knee deep, it takes about five minutes to walk out to the edge. With the proper footwear, it’s a simple matter to explore the colorful life forms that are within reach.

However, we were soon to learn that when the sea becomes restless, the peaceful reef transforms itself into a killing zone. When a Pacific storm strikes, you’re far more likely to find yourself up to your neck in raging surf; desperately swimming for your life. From the scattered remains of a couple shipwrecks that litter some areas of the beaches, evidence of Mother Nature’s furious past is brought to light.

My wife Portia and I had booked a two-day scuba trip to Takutea. The tour was to include a one-night stay on the island. After the long voyage out, the powerful engines of our fifty foot dive-boat were finally shut down and we made anchor just off shore. It wasn't long afterwards that Portia and I suited-up and took to the water. The two of us followed the anchor line down to ninety feet and explored a vast underwater wilderness.  At a depth of 120 feet, several of the top predators came into view. These included several bull sharks and some of the largest barracuda that I had ever seen. These two species have a well founded reputation as man-eaters so we obeyed the safety rules of staying together and hugging the bottom when they started coming in too close.

After the dive, we prepared to go ashore for our one-night of camping. Our captain launched his small inflatable boat and took the four of us to our drop-off point at the outer edge of the reef. The other couple had come to the island in order to take pictures of the birds. With the tide being low and the seas calm, the conditions for landing on the reef were ideal. We were able to merely step out of the inflatable boat right onto the hard coral shelf in no more than a foot of water. Carrying a few supplies, we easily made our way up to the white sandy beaches. I had managed to catch a tuna earlier so we had plenty to eat for our one-day excursion.   After building our shelter from palm leaves, Portia and I set out to explore and play in our own little island paradise. We climbed the trees, ran across the powdery sands and playfully splashed in the cool surf.

The following morning we were anxious to return to the comforts of our dive-boat where we had been promised a hot breakfast. However, now there were signs that the weather was beginning to change for the worse. The tide was up and so were the seas. The outer edge of the reef that had been so calm and peaceful the day before was now becoming an enraged and dangerous creature.

The message from our captain came over the radio: “I want you to proceed to the far side of the island where the reef is narrow and where there is a thin channel between the corals that I can use as an escape route”.   His plan was to run his motorized raft through the twisted channel and right up onto our beach. By the time the captain had launched his boat, the sea had become even more violent. Now there was a constant pounding of huge breakers directly onto the edge of the reef.   We must have waited for fifteen minutes as he carefully circled his raft beyond the break-zone.   He was waiting for that precious moment when there would be a six second reprieve from the constant pounding. It was only then that he throttled up the engine and made his mad dash for shore. Remarkably, he had managed to power his little boat through the center of the channel, right behind a huge breaker. He was now right on our door step and ready to take us back to the dive boat and that fabulous breakfast.

I immediately thanked him for having taken such a risk at our expense, but I suggested that perhaps we should wait for the seas to calm down before we attempted to leave the island. He agreed with me and we spent the rest of the day waiting for conditions to improve.

While we waited underneath a temporary shelter, the first mate attempted to send us some food and water from the dive boat. He launched a second motorized raft with hopes of maneuvering close enough to the breakers in order to throw a water-proof container into the surf. The idea was that our care-package would be caught by a wave and then swept over the reef; right into our waiting hands. We knew that he was in trouble when he was caught off guard by a huge wave and was then flipped upside-down. The wave caught him completely by surprise and it was only through sheer strength and determination that he managed to keep from being pulled directly into the kill-zone. He swam with all his might directly out to sea while towing the little boat behind him.  Only when he was in the deep ocean and safely out of danger was he rescued by the larger vessel. After that experiment, no additional attempts were made to provide us with food or water.

Five hours went by and our captain was becoming impatient. He somehow managed to convince the rest of our party that the ocean conditions had slightly improved. Amongst our group members, I was now in the minority position of waiting for as long as it might take for the weather conditions to improve. So I reluctantly left the decision to our captain. He reasoned that “Because of the risk involved, we were going to make only two crossings through the narrow channel”. The two girls were to accompany him in the first launching because the guys would be needed to steady the craft in the rough surf. We had all learned by now that our only chance for breaking-out past the reef was going to happen during one of those six second periods of relative calm. We took quite a beating as wave after wave pummeled us in our attempt to keep the boat pointed out to sea until the captain was ready to launch.

My last words to Portia had been, “If a worse-case scenario were to happen, hold on to the boat no matter what!” What happened next will burn in my memory forever. With the girls on board and upon his command, we released our grip and pushed the raft into the raging channel. As soon as the captain engaged his transmission, the engine began to sputter. Instead of whirling out to sea at top speed, the little boat barely managed to make headway. By the time their six second reprieve had paid out, the three of them were in the worst imaginable situation. In that next moment the little raft was sucked right up into the face of a huge ten-foot wave and slammed upside-down directly on top of the outer reef in a huge whitewater explosion. Portia did hang on for dear life when the wave hit and by staying with the raft she managed to keep from being torn across the top of the reef. The struggle to hang on saved her life but shattered left arm above the elbow. The captain and the other girl did not fair as well, they were brutally swept over the razor-sharp barrier. By the time we could get to them, they had been considerably cut from head to toe and had lost a great deal of blood. Broken necks are the usual cause of death when people are thrown up against barrier reefs, and I knew in my heart that after what I had just witnessed they all could easily have been killed.

So this was to be our fate: Five adults, three of whom were seriously injured; stuck on a desert island; without any immediate hopes for rescue, or supplies. The engine on the little boat could never be trusted again.

Although the next three days went by rather quickly, I remember being very exhausted. When we weren’t tending to the wounded, we continually rebuild our shelters, hunted for food, climbed coconut trees, and searched the beaches for another possible escape route.   Frustratingly, the waves never subsided and continued to crash with all their thunderous might upon our little island.   The nearest helicopter was over five hundred miles away in Tahiti and when it became apparent to us that a rescue was impossible, a radio message went out to the local villagers of Aitu, an inhabited neighboring island.

It rained throughout the fourth night and now we were cold, miserable and very tired. That morning, we looked out in the distance across the raging sea and discovered that a tiny boat was bobbing up and down in the giant waves and headed in our direction. The boat was manned by five local fishermen who had been notified of our predicament and who had made the decision to come to our rescue. There was a jubilant feeling as we watched them safely glide over the reef and make their way to our primitive campsite. We packed our few belongings and prepared the injured for transport. The fishermen suggested that we head back to the traditional landing site where the outer edge of the reef was considerably further out. The wounded were gently lowered into the skiff as four of the men carefully walked the boat out across the surging reef.   By the time they approached the outer edge, the incoming waves were breaking over their heads. Nonetheless, these powerful men continued to stabilize the boat and kept it pointed out to sea as we patiently waited for the all-important six-second lull.   And when the moment came, they pushed off at once and the helmsman immediately gunned the engine. Rather than waste the precious one or two seconds that it would have taken them to climb on-board, the four men allowed themselves to be dragged out to sea along side the boat. Each of them desperately holding on to a thin leather strap. It was only after they had been towed for a considerable distance that the boat was stopped long enough to get the four of them on-board.

We were finally safe, and after being transferred to the larger vessel, we made the bumpy crossing to Aitu. Later that day we said goodbye to our friends and flew to the island of Roratonga where Portia and the others were admitted into the local hospital.  As it turned out, Portia needed to have her arm surgically pinned to correct the fracture.

We have since returned to the comforts of suburban life in California, and Portia’s arm has mend although she is still undergoing physical therapy.   The occasional stiffness and pain in her arm remind both of us about the uncontrollable might and immense power of Mother Nature. We have seen how she is so very capable of wrecking havoc on human lives that are not prepared to give her the respect she is due.

I continue to think about the courageous fishermen from Aitu who rescued us. They come from a very proud tradition of villagers who, in order to provide for their families, must routinely face the hardships of Mother Nature. Their exceptional skills and heroic efforts are rarely discussed outside of their own village settings. They have continued to survive in these remote regions of the South Pacific regardless of the dangers. Rarely are we in the modern world called upon to face these types of environmental challenges. We have become successful people in our ability to distance ourselves from the wrath of Mother Nature, and in so doing, we have inadvertently learned to distance ourselves from the values of the islanders.

It took this type of hair-raising adventure for me to appreciate the level of human compassion that these gentle people exhibited.   I will never forget how they chose to risk their lives in an open launch to battle an angry dangerous sea to save five strangers from a land so far away. For Portia and me, they are and will always remain our heroes.