Rarotonga and Aitutaki

A few days ago we flew to the island of Aitutaki. There are approximately 110,000 citizens of the Cook Islands. 10,000 of them live on Rarotonga, 2,000 on Aitutaki and 3,000 on the rest of the smaller Cook Islands. 20,000 live in Australia, and the rest live in New Zealand. Not sure where they would put all of them if they all canoe home!! 

I have clearly not yet completely succumbed to island time. Robin, the owner of the place we stayed on Rarotonga, drove us to the airport. We left his place a hour before the flight was scheduled to depart. He offered to drive us via a series off back roads, one of which had been a local highway for over a thousand years. Ok, I was a little stressed - I have arrived at Calgary 45 minutes before a international flight, but I was already checked in.  No worries here mate! Robin drops us off 29 minutes before our flight is supposed to take off.  Eventually, somebody shows up at he check in desk and asks us what our names are.  No passport, no I'd, no security, no baggage tags - he gives us a little slip of paper with a seat number on it. Jackie goes to use the washroom. One of the staff tells us we can get on the plane. We're the last to board, and 3 minutes later we are airborne, 12 minutes before our scheduled departure time.  Ivan will be wondering, so I have to mention that we flew on a 30 passenger Saab 340 turboprop. 

For years, the island of Aitutaki banned flights on Sunday. Just about everybody goes to church on Sunday, and they still have a few stalwarts who line up next to the airport terminal ( which is a little bigger than my garage) to protest the flights on Sundays. The same little old aunties  who opposed the landings also got mandatory helmet laws squashed. The helmets interfere with their hats when they go to church on Sunday on their scooters. 

I have attended Catholic masses in 19 different countries.  It is interesting, because everything is almost identical, but different enough to be interesting.  1/3 of the mass here was in Maori, but they project the words, so I could sing along. And EVERYBODY sings along! There were half a dozen guitars already playing when a guy strolled intern minutes late for mass playing another one! All of the women were dressed to the nines. I was the only man not wearing a Hawaiian shirt, and I was the only person in church wearing socks. The deacon was in bare feet!

Sunday was Father's Day in the Cook Islands. There was a special Father's Day brunch at our resort, and most of the people who attended were locals. We had an amazing chat with a couple of locals. She was born here, left, and met her husband in New Zealand. They came back on vacation, he fell in love with the place, sold everything that they had in New Zealand, and they have lived here for the last 20 years. Of her 12 brothers and sisters who were born on this island she is the only one who stayed. 

On our dive yesterday, one of the local police constables helped the dive master launch his boat. " isn't it difficult having your cousin as the local police officer?"Jackie asked. "Almost all issues get taken care of by the family, " said the dive master. "And those that don't, you would much rathe deal with my cousin, because if you don't deal with her, then you would have to deal with her dad!!"

Snorkelling and diving here has been fantastic. Visibility is amazing and there is a huge number and variety of sea creatures. We have seen sharks, rays, turtles, and other sea fish that are over a meter long. We eat fresh fish every night. 

Last night we went to the only night club on the island. It is five minute walk from our beach cabana.  I asked the DJ if he had any country music. He had three country songs, so I convinced Jackie to dance to all of them. We returned to our table, and were joined by the chief of police and a one of his buddies. The chief said that the secret to effective policing on a small island (1800 residents, 3 cops) was to go drinking with the locals. He said that you really can't counsel people until you get to know them well. He offered to buy us a round; we figured that we should walk home. He had to be home by midnight anyway - his wife told him he could only go out for a couple of hours. 

Tomorrow we start several days of flying, which will eventually get us to Darjeeling in India and soon after to Bhutan.