The Day I Died

The story of the Boat Tragedy at Malinoa in 1977 

Compiled by Leigh Harkness

I, ’Elisepa ’Onesiu Mafi, a theatre nurse at Vaiola Hospital in Nuku’alofa Tonga, died just west of the Island of ’Atatā on the morning of 15 May 1977, on the deck of the Ngaluta’ane, the ‘Eua ferry.  When I first saw the red boat appear over the waves, I thought I was saved. I relaxed, but swallowed some water. The rescuers pulled me onto the deck, and lay me face up.  I was cold and exhausted.  Even if I were conscious, I was too weak to move.  The doctor who tried to resuscitate me tried mouth to mouth resuscitation for an hour.  He did not have a tube to suck the water out.  After being in the ocean for more than 18 hours, I drowned on the deck of that boat with little more than a cup of water trapped in my lungs.        

The day before had started out sunny with a fresh south-easterly breeze blowing back the fronds on the coconut trees along the foreshore.  It was a Saturday and I, together with my friend planned to go to the football.  My uncle, Ma’afu, had told me that he was going out in a boat with his overseas friends from Tupou College.  This is a boys boarding school with an associated farm.  My uncle had trained in New Zealand to be the butcher, to run the recently built abattoir on the farm.  However, he was more interested in becoming a preacher and earlier that week he had been ordained as a minister in the Free Wesleyan Church.  

Bob Springett was from New Zealand and was the farm adviser to Tupou College.  He was aged 47 and had lived in Tonga for more than five years.  He was looking to move on.  His three young daughters, Rebecca, Rachel and Anna were accompanying him to Malinoa, a small island about 8 miles (13 kilometres) to the north of Nuku’alofa.  Rebecca was 11 years old and attended Queen Salote College in Nuku’alofa.  Rachel was 9 years old and attended Tonga Side School, an English speaking primary school adjoining Tonga High School.  Anna was about 6 years old and had just started school.  Only two of Bob’s daughters were to survive that day.  Their mother, Margaret Springett, was in Apia, Samoa, assisting with a pre-school training programme. 

Bob arrived first at about 8.00 am and parked his dark blue hatchback car, a Morris 1100, under the trees at the foreshore, in front of the Dateline Hotel.  He brought Ma’afu and his children together with the outboard motor and the food and picnic things for the day.  Ma’afu walked out in the shallow water to bring Bob’s boat to the beach.

Bob’s boat was moored at the front of the Dateline Hotel, on the western side of the American Wharf, also known as Yellow Pier.  The 12 foot long boat was painted dark blue and relatively wide for its length.  It was made of plywood with a sharp V at the bow flattening out to a shallow V at the stern.  On the small foredeck was a wooden post with a brass cross-piece to which was tied the anchor.  The anchor and anchor rope were stored on the foredeck when under way.  The back of the boat (the transom) was cut low in the middle to accommodate the 10 horsepower outboard motor.  There was a small deck on each side of the motor with a shallow well in front of the motor.  

The cabin was high and long with sliding perspex windows on the side.  There were no front windows.  Bob could lean on the cabin roof while standing on one leg, using his other foot to steer the tiller on the outboard motor.  Bench seats stretched along each side of the boat and plywood sheets laid on the cross beams of the boat made up the floor.  Five life jackets were stored at the very front of the boat, in the space under the foredeck.    

Frank Herbert arrived next, in his light tan Morris Mini.  Bob had invited his good friend to join him on this picnic trip because Frank was to leave Tonga the following weekend.  Frank lived in what was called the Matron’s house of the old Vaiola Hospital on Vaha’akolo Road.  As UK adviser to the Tonga Co-operative Federation, Frank had established it as a major groceries distributor.  This business was developed to provide a sound commercial base upon which it could build its future cooperative operations.  Frank was turning 60 years old and was returning to the United Kingdom to retire.  After the exciting challenges of working in Tonga, he was not looking forward to the quiet life in a council flat in the United Kingdom.  In the next 24 hours he was to voluntarily give up his life in an attempt to save mine.  

Leigh Harkness, an Australian teacher at Tupou College, was the next to arrive.  He had stayed overnight in Ngelia with his friend, Pupunu Kupu, a dentist at the hospital.  Leigh also had a small boat moored in front of the Dateline Hotel.  Bob had asked Leigh to take his boat to accompany them in case something went wrong.  The weekend before, the outboard motor on Bob’s boat had stopped on the way back from the island of Pangaimotu, a popular tourist destination near Nuku’alofa.  Since then, Bob had serviced the engine, replacing the spark plug.  However, he wanted the security of another boat for this trip because their destination, the island of Malinoa, was relatively remote. 

Leigh had turned up that morning but advised Bob that the sea was too rough for his boat.  Leigh’s boat was narrow at the bows and it porpoised badly in choppy seas.  In the few months that Leigh had been in Tonga, he had worked out that when the wind blew the coconut tree fronds back on themselves, the sea was too rough for his boat. Leigh would later be the first to swim for help.  He was the son of Colin and Joyce Harkness who were missionaries in Ha’apai and Vava’u between 1953 and 1960.

Elizabeth (Besi) Wood-Ellem was an Australian historian with a particular interest in Tongan History.  She would later write her doctoral thesis on the life of Queen Salote.  She had been born in Tonga, the daughter of Harold and Olive Wood, who were missionaries in Tonga from 1924 to 1937.  She was particularly interested in going to Malinoa to see the graves of the 6 men who were executed and buried on Malinoa after the attempted assassination of Shirley Baker in 1887. 

When Leigh arrived at the foreshore, Bob and Frank were already discussing the weather and whether or not they should go to Malinoa on such a windy day.  Bob felt under pressure because this was the last weekend before Frank was to leave Tonga.  They could have gone to a closer island.  But Bob had promised to take Besi to Malinoa and he was not certain how much more time she had in Tonga.  During this discussion, Bob admitted that had his wife, Margaret, been there, she would not have allowed them to go.    

Besi walked from Kolomotu’a to the wharf.  She was staying at Kaveinga and Limu Havea’s guest house.  She had not told them where she was going that day.  When she arrived at the front of the Dateline Hotel, Bob had already made up his mind to go and she was not aware that there was any indecision about whether or not to go to Malinoa.      

By the time I arrived with my friend, the boat was at the beach.  The motor had been secured in place, the fuel tank had been placed under the well for the motor and the fuel line connected.  The lifejackets had been stowed and the anchor tied on.  It only needed the picnic baskets to be loaded and the people to board.

My friend and I were in our early 20’s and we did not feel comfortable going to the football on our own.  So we hoped to persuade my uncle to take us.  However, he was committed to accompany his friend, Bob, and his family and friends in their small boat to Malinoa.  The island is visible on the horizon to the north of Nuku’alofa. 

Instead of persuading him to go to the football, he persuaded me to accompany them on the boat, to help look after the children.  I reluctantly agreed and farewelled my friend, who was disappointed that I was leaving her.  I had not the slightest inclination that I would never see her again. 

Leigh asked Bob if he could join them on the trip.  He had not planned anything else for that day and thought a trip to Malinoa in Bob’s boat would be a good way to spend the day.  He had half expected that Bob might say no, because the boat might be overloaded.  But Bob said he could come.  Leigh felt that Bob’s agreement indicated that he be confident about the capacity of his boat to hold another person.

We set off before 9.00 am and passed to the west of the reef that surrounds the island of Fafā.  It was a sunny day and the sea sparkled.  I sat with Ma’afu on the roof of the cabin at the front with our feet on the foredeck.  Everyone else sat in the cabin, with Bob sitting at the back, steering.  Rebecca came up to the bow for a time to enjoy the breeze and the sea.  Otherwise, the trip was uneventful.  We arrived at Malinoa at around 10.30 am and it was low tide.  Ma’afu directed Bob through the short channel in the reef to the south of the island and into the sandy lagoon within the reef that surrounded the island.

Bob steered the boat to the leeward side and nudged it onto the shore.  We all disembarked and brought the cooler, picnic basket and bags ashore.  Ma’afu pushed the boat out after securing the anchor on the beach.    

Malinoa is surrounded by beautiful sandy beaches.  It is covered with coconuts and with thin scrub with a high leafy canopy.  On the northern end of the island is a tower with a ladder to the navigation light at the top.   The sandy lagoon has crystal clear water that extends to the reef before turning a light aqua-marine blue that progressively deepens in colour to a deep ocean blue.   On the north-west side of the island, we found black and white banded sea snakes that lay among the leaf litter of the trees.   

Besi went looking for the graves of the 6 men that had been executed for attempting to assassinate the Prime Minister, Shirley Baker, in 1887[1].  When those men were taken out in the schooner to be executed, only two admitted to participating in the attempted assignation of the “White King”.  The other 4 were totally innocent of that crime but were being persecuted for being faithful to the Wesleyan Church.  Besi had brought a hymn book in her bag and had hoped that the group would have prayed and sung a hymn over the graves.    

I strolled with the three children around the island collecting shells along the beach. Then we joined Besi, looking for the old grave sites.  When we found the graves, Rebecca said that they were spooky. She could not wait to get out of the scrub and back to the beach. 

Leigh wandered along the beach.  He had not met Besi and was unaware of her family links to Tonga.  He had visited Malinoa a week earlier while fishing when the weather was much calmer.  He had cleared the scrub (vau) over the six graves.  Only one had an inscription that was now illegible.

Ma’afu visited and chatted with two octopus fishermen camped on the island.  They came from Vaini, a village in the centre of the main island of Tonga, Tongatapu.  They planned to stay a week and had come out on separate outrigger canoes (popau).  Their canoes were pulled up onto the beach on the western side of the island. 

Later, I took the children for a swim.  Ma’afu joined us and he used the mask and snorkel that Bob had brought to go diving.  He came back with a clam which we cut up and shared, eating it raw on the beach.

Bob and Frank had a couple of beers and chatted to each other on the beach.   In the morning, Bob had been apprehensive about coming to Malinoa.  But now he was enjoying the sunshine and said he was glad that they came.  He was pleased that he was able to take Frank out to an island and was proud that his outboard motor had proved reliable.

We shared our picnic lunch and at about 2.30 in the afternoon started loading the boat for the return journey to Nuku’alofa.  We set out at about 2.45 pm.  It was now high tide and the boat could clearly ride over the reef without the propeller hitting the rocks.  Ma’afu sat at the front on the roof of the cabin.  My clothes were still damp after our swim so I joined Besi and the children in the cabin, out of the wind. Frank and Leigh sat at the rear opposite each other.  Bob stood, leaning on the cabin with his foot holding the tiller.  From this position he could look over the cabin to where he was heading and chat with Frank at the same time.  They had to talk loudly to be heard over the noise of the motor. 

The wind and waves continued to come from the south-east.  But the wind felt stronger and the waves were larger than in the morning.  We were now heading south back towards Nuku’alofa.  Bob was relaxed and put out a couple of fishing lines in the hope of picking up some fish on the way home.   He was quite comfortable, and chatted confidently with Frank.    

We had been travelling for about 15 to 20 minutes when Ma`afu turned suddenly to Bob.  He wanted to warn him that two large waves were approaching.   Bob should have seen him turn and responded by steering the boat directly into the waves.  But at that moment Bob had his head down and was talking to Frank.  He did not see Ma’afu turn to him and Ma’afu in that instant was at a loss at what to do next to get his attention.  In the following second or two, the waves were imperceptible to those in the boat.  The boat powered on. 

As the bow drove into the front of the second wave, the right hand stern of the boat was still sitting in the back of first wave.  The bulk of the hull was now in the deep trough between the two waves.  As a result, a greater share of the weight of the boat was being carried by the waves at the bow and stern of the boat.  So these ends sank deeper into the waves. 

As the boat sank into the wave at the rear, Leigh saw two inches of clear water pour over the gunwale into the boat where he was seated. He immediately flipped himself backwards into the water to lighten the boat.  But it was too late.  As the front wave lifted the bow, the stern sank deeper into the back wave and more water poured in, swamping the stern.  The boat came to an abrupt halt.  Ma`afu was thrown into the sea.  The swamped stern assisted by the weight of the motor quickly sank below the surface.  

Both Bob and Frank were immediately immersed in the deep as the boat sank below them.  Besi grabbed Anna and pushed out from under the cabin. She felt her glasses fall off.  She was about to look for them when she quickly realised that this was not the time to worry about glasses. I also ducked out from the cabin before it went under.  It all happened very, very suddenly. One second we were sitting enjoying the trip and the next the boat had sunk beneath us.

When Leigh came up after diving backwards into the sea, the whole stern of the boat was under water and the boat was pointing into the sky, almost vertical. The rear of the cabin top was already under water and the boat was now slowly sinking backwards into the sea.  Rebecca and Rachel’s were hanging out of the side windows and screaming for help.  Initially, it looked as if the boat would sink with the two girls trapped at the hips in the small windows. However, Rachel, being younger, was smaller than Rebecca and Ma’afu was able to quickly pull her through the window.  But Rebecca was stuck fast.  I was trying to help pull her out but she would not budge.   It was not until the right hand window had sunk to water level that I was able to pull Rebecca out and into the relative safely of the open ocean. 

The boat continued to sink until it was completely under water with the top of the bow just floating beneath the surface, as was the leading edge of the cabin roof.  We did not know how long it would stay afloat.  We were all in the water around the boat trying to grab hold of part of the boat for support.  This was difficult because most of the boat was deep under water and there were not many places to hold.  

We were all safe for the moment but miles from shore and without any hope of rescue.  The lifejackets were trapped in the forward compartment of the boat and it was not possible for us to reach them.  It would have been difficult even for Ma’afu to swim back down through the cabin to the front, grab the life jackets and then pull them down through the cabin and back to the surface.  Also, if he did do this, we did not know whether the boat would sink completely without the support of the life jackets.

It was a Saturday afternoon so there was no hope of any fisherman coming past and seeing us.  Sunday is a day of rest in Tonga and any fisherman who had been fishing beyond us would be close to shore or at the market by now trying to sell their catch before Sunday.  Also, there were no nearby islands that people would be travelling from that would bring a boat close to us.  Furthermore, we would not be missed until it was dark, and even then people ashore would not know where we were.  Therefore, it was unlikely that we would be rescued that day.  If we were going to be saved, we needed to do something ourselves.

Leigh suggested that we drop the motor off so that the boat would float a bit higher.  Bob was reluctant to do that.  At that beginning, he did not appreciate the peril that we were in.  Leigh assured him that if we dropped the motor off, the boys from Tupou College could come out and find it and bring it back up.  With this assurance, Bob agreed.  Leigh knew that there was no way that they could find the motor again.  He knew it was of no use to them and it threatened to sink the boat, their only source of support. 

Ma’afu swam down and undid the clamps that held the motor onto the boat.  He lifted the motor off the transom and dropped it into the deep.  Without the weight of the motor, the boat came to a horizontal position with the roof floating near the surface of the water.   In this position, we could all get a grip of the boat to support ourselves.

This level position also allowed Ma’afu to swim into the cabin and retrieve the life jackets.  There were three children’s life jackets and we put these on each of the children.  Although Bob could not swim he did not tell anyone.  He allocated the remaining two adult life jackets to Besi and Frank. 

Debris now floated out and around the boat such as the floor-boards from the boat, the picnic cooler, an orange and the fishing lines.   We tried to keep the things that we might be able to use together.  We made an attempt to try to lift the boat but that proved to be a waste of time and effort.

Frank suggested that someone should swim back to Malinoa and get help.  However, I said that it was too far and the current too strong.  We discussed what our options were.  It was clear that not everyone could swim back to the island, even if it were possible. 

Eventually Frank suggested that Leigh should swim 100 yards so that we could see how he goes.  Leigh agreed to try it.  In preparation for the swim, he took off his glasses and placed them in the bottom of the boat, expecting to retrieve them later.  He put on the mask and snorkel and placed the plastic foam lid from the cooler under his tee shirt.  When he looked at his watch, it was 3.30 pm. 

After swimming about 10 yards, he was already tired.  He realised that he did not have the strength to swim to the island.  He turned around to return, but Frank shouted, “he’s off”.  At that point, Leigh realised that Frank meant him not to return but to swim for the island.  If he were to return he would disappoint us and there may be no other hope for us.  The trial swim was a strategy to obtain support for the safe first step in what was ultimately a desperate rescue plan.  So Leigh turned away and swam off towards the island.  As he did so, he was deeply aware that he must reach the island, or die.

Around the boat, we continued to discus what else we should do.  Bob hoped that we would float to Malinoa.  But Ma’afu explained that the current would take us away from Malinoa and towards ’Atatā.   Then we discussed whether someone should go and swim with Leigh.  Eventually, we agreed that Ma’afu would swim after Leigh and stay with him. 

Ma’afu took one of the plywood floor boards and wrapped his legs around it.  Then he swam off with his head high above water.  This enabled him to clearly see the island he was heading for.  His arms moving like paddle wheels attached to his shoulders, propelling him through the water.  He had a strong right arm developed from working at the abattoir at Tupou College.  However, he had dislocated this arm several times and he became concerned that if it were to become dislocated while he swam, he would not survive.  His left arm was not as strong as his right and weakened further as he swam.  

Leigh swam with his head under water, breathing through the snorkel.  The sound of his deep breaths going through the plastic pipe was loud in his ears.  Initially, the water was too deep for him to see the ocean floor through the glass face of his mask.  The ocean below him was just a turquoise cloud.  He could have been swimming in circles for all he knew.  It was only when he found himself swimming up a wave that he realised he was swimming in the wrong direction.   He would stop swimming and raise his head, waiting for the next wave to lift him high enough to see the island.  Then he would swim in that direction.  Without any underwater landmarks to guide him, he soon realised that he had to regularly stop to check where the island was so that he could ensure he was swimming in the right direction.

When Ma’afu caught up with Leigh, it was after 4.00 pm.  He asked him how he was going and Leigh said he was OK.  Ma’afu offered Leigh the support of the floor-board.  Ma’afu was not aware that Leigh had support from the lid of the cooler under his shirt.  Leigh took the plank but it proved to be more of a hindrance for him than a help and he discarded it.  Ma’afu had started swimming ahead.  When he saw that Leigh had let go of the floor board, he returned to take it and use it for support. 

Leigh was swimming much slower than Ma’afu.  Ma’afu could see that Leigh was weakening and he was not going to make it.  He realised that if Leigh passed out, he would not be able to help him without putting himself at risk and putting the whole rescue mission in jeopardy.  Therefore, Ma’afu decided to swim off ahead and leave Leigh behind.  

Meanwhile, back at the sunken boat, Bob was trying to keep all the debris from the boat by using the fishing line to tie it all together.  When we had settled down, Besi suggested that we pray.  After the prayer, she led us in singing the hymn, “Abide with me”.   The Europeans sang in English.  I knew the tune and sang the hymn in Tongan.  After this, I think Bob realised how serious was our predicament and said “I am sorry, everyone.” 

The tidal current was taking us towards the north-west, so that we were moving towards ’Atata and to the west of Malinoa.  Also, we were getting colder.

While we had discarded the motor, the petrol tank was still in the bottom of the boat, at the back.  The petrol leaked out and formed an oil slick on the surface of the water.  This oil irritated and burnt Besi’s skin.  This was very painful for Besi and she was very uncomfortable.  With some difficulty, Bob was able to reach down and remove the petrol tank and let it float away.

By this time Leigh was exhausted. His legs cramped painfully and he could not move them. The plastic foam lid of the cooler was chafing the skin of his chest, adding to his pain. Even so, he did not dare remove it from under his tee shirt, as it was the only thing keeping him afloat. His arms were sore and weak. Yet the island seemed as far away as ever.  He decided that there was no point in going on and that the best thing for him would be to die there. Death would provide welcome relief from his pain and suffering.

However, he then thought about the consequences of dying. It amused him that all the things he had worked for and thought important in the past, such as his studies at university, were now worthless to him: a waste of time. He thought about his mother and how she would react when she was told that he had been lost at sea. At the thought of the pain that this would bring her, he resolved that while he had the strength to put one hand in front of the other, he would continue to swim on.  He had nothing to lose. His life was gone. If he had to endure pain for a little longer, that was of no significance. It did not matter. At worst he would die, and if he did, he would be no worse off than he would have been if he did not try. But he could not choose to grieve her.

It was shortly after this time that a rainbow appeared to the north east and we all saw it.  It brought a message of hope for us all.  We thought of God’s promise to Noah not to flood the land again.  We hoped that this was a message for us.  This accident had brought all of us to pray to God for help.      

After a while, Leigh started seeing the sand and coral outcrops on the ocean floor.  He could see fish swimming calmly around the coral which popped up like small islands on a sea of sand, forty feet below.  The calm fish below were in contrast to him, splashing around on the surface and gasping for breath through the noisy snorkel.  Leigh started to use these coral outcrops as landmarks to guide him.  He would wait for a wave to lift him high enough to see the island.  Then he would look below and find a coral outcrop deep below that was in line with the island and swim to that. 

These small targets were achievable and gave him more hope.  He could concentrate on swimming to a coral outcrop and having achieved that, would find another to swim to.  He was in agony but he could see that there was progress and the water was slowly becoming shallower.  Eventually, he saw a rock that came out of the ocean floor like a church steeple with a small flat top.  He swam to that and was able to stand up on it with his head just out of the water.  He felt that piece of rock was the most wonderful piece of rock in all the world and he came to appreciate how valuable land was to all mankind. 

Meanwhile, Ma’afu had swum to shore.  When he reached the shore, he could not stand.  His legs were completely numb.  He slowly massaged them until he could stand.  But when he went to walk he fell down.  He stood and fell several times.  He tried to run towards the tower, all the time praying to God for help.  When he reached the tower, he climbed it.  From there he could spot us in the distance, holding on around the boat, but still drifting with the current.  Also, he could see Leigh’s head.  It was obvious that he was standing on a rock at the edge of the reef.  When a wave came, his head would go under and he would be seen again in the next trough between the waves. 

Ma’afu quickly climbed down and took one of the canoes out to the edge of the reef to bring Leigh ashore.  When he arrived, Leigh was too weak to climb into the canoe.  Ma’afu had to jump into the water to help lift Leigh into the canoe.  The wind and the current were too strong for him to paddle straight back to shore.  He had to allow the canoe to be taken by the wind and the current until it was in the lee of the island.  Then he was able to paddle into the shore.  Leigh was able to rest and get his strength back during this time.  Ma’afu brought the canoe to the beach and Leigh stepped out onto the sand.  He was very happy to be on land again.  It was now about 5.00 pm.

Ma’afu and Leigh made their way to the eastern side of the island where the two fishermen were camped in the shelter of some trees.  The fishermen had a large glass bottle of water, the type of bottle used as floats by Japanese long-line fishing boats.  Leigh was very thirsty but he was reluctant to ask them for water as he realised how precious it was and he did not want to deplete their only water supply.  He asked Ma’afu about it and Ma’afu cheerily assured him that it was OK for him to drink that water and the fishermen laughed and agreed.  Leigh lifted the heavy bottle and put it to his lips.  This was the sweetest, most delicious and most memorable drink of his life. 

Ma’afu then talked to the fishermen about how to rescue those still out at sea, clinging to the boat.  Initially, Ma’afu proposed that they strap the two hulls of the canoes together to make a catamaran for him to paddle to ’Atatā for help.  One of the fishermen, Tu’uta Kula, said that he had the better canoe and that he would go back to Nuku’alofa for help.  But Ma’afu said that the wind would be against him and said that it would be better to head westward with the help of the wind to the island of ’Atatā.  Ma’afu and Bob had been to ’Atatā and had friends there.  Ma’afu believed that they would be willing and were best able to help with the search and rescue.  Also, the sunken boat with its survivors would be drifting towards ’Atatā.

Tu’uta was well aware of the dangers of such a voyage to ’Atatā at night in these weather conditions and he was afraid to go.  However, he had children of his own and, although it meant risking his life and their welfare, he felt that he had to help.  He agreed to go there and proposed that he and the other fisherman would prepare a sail for the voyage.  He explained to Ma’afu that the outrigger on the other canoe was heavier than his, and would provide greater stability.  Ma’afu agreed to swap the outriggers on the canoes.      

Ma’afu and Leigh returned to the canoes to swap the outriggers while the fishermen prepared a sail.  The sail consisted of one stick that formed the mast and another stick that formed the boom.  A triangle of pale red cloth the size of about half a bed sheet made up the sail.  Ropes were tied to the top of the mast to secure it.  A rope held one end of the boom to the mast and a longer rope was tied to the other end of the boom as a sheet rope.  It was about 6.00 pm when the sail was placed on the canoe and Tu’uta paddled out into the darkening sea and sky. 

The boat quickly disappeared into the darkness.  Ma’afu and Leigh returned to build a fire on the beach.  Leigh searched the scrub for fallen coconut fronds to fuel the fire and make the flames rise to make it more visible from the sea.  We all saw that fire on the beach and knew then that at least one of the swimmers had reached the shore.  That was a great encouragement to us at sea.  It also warmed Ma’afu and Leigh, and gave them something to do. 

Leigh tried to signal Nuku’alofa by using the floor board from the boat as a shutter to hide and reveal the fire. However the beach was too low for anyone in Nuku’alofa to see the fire, even if they were looking for a signal. There was now little that they could do but pray for those who were still at sea.  They were very grateful that they had survived this ordeal.

Barbara Pott, the principal of Queen Salote College, had expected Frank, Bob and the girls to come to dinner at her house that evening.  When they did not arrive, she thought they had decided to stay on the island and avoid returning in the rough and windy conditions.

For us in the sea, the circumstances were changing.  The anchor was tied to the anchor post on the foredeck.  It had been dangling straight down in the deep water.  We did not appreciate this at the time, but when the current carried the boat to the north-west, it was drifting into shallower water and the anchor started to drag through the sand.

 The anchor was made of a short piece of galvanised pipe, about two inches in diameter, with four prongs of reinforcing steel welded on the end and bent to form four hooks.  It was not very effective in sand.  When it eventually snagged on a coral outcrop, it held the boat and stopped it drifting.   This caused the waves and the current to put pressure on the boat and start pulling it apart. 

First the roof pulled away together with the cabin walls.  Now that the boat was breaking up, it was no longer possible for us to stay together.  We quickly decided that Frank, Rebecca and I should stay on the roof.  We gradually floated away from the others.   Rebecca cried out to her father and blew the whistle on her life jacket to get his attention.  Soon, however, we could see them only on the tops of waves and as the darkness thickened, we lost sight of them.  

Without the heavy cabin roof, the hull of the boat rose towards the surface.  Besi and Rachel held onto the front of the boat and Bob was able to sit holding Anna in his arms at the rear of the boat.   

Soon afterwards, the hull tore away from the foredeck.  Besi decided that she would stay holding onto the foredeck with its rope and anchor.  Bob was comfortable seated in the hull with Anna and told Besi that he would prefer to stay with the hull.   Besi and Rachel had watched as Frank, Rebecca and I as we drifted off.  Now they watched as Bob and Anna drifted off into the dark. 

Besi and Rachel felt all alone in the rolling, seething ocean.  Out of the dark blue of the evening, they saw Tu’uta’s outrigger canoe sailing towards them.  It was dipping and plummeting between the waves.  In what little Tongan she knew, Rachel yelled out “tamasi’i”, knowing that this wasn’t the word to address a man, but it would have to do.  Above the noise of the wind and waves he heard her.  He brought the canoe beside them and Besi and Rachel managed to haul themselves over the side of the canoe.  It felt safe. 

Besi sat in the middle and Rachel crouched in the hull towards the front of the canoe.  It was now heavier than it had been before and took on more water.  

From the roof of the cabin we also saw the small sail silhouetted against the darkening sky.  By this time, it was darker still.  Besi and Rachel were aboard.  Frank and I blew the whistles on the life jackets and waved our hands.  Rebecca even tried to stand on the roof and wave.  But the wind drowned out our whistles and it was too dark for Tu’uta, Besi and Rachel to see us. 

In the canoe, Besi had to keep on bailing to keep it afloat.  The waves grew higher as they sailed on towards ‘Atatā.  The seas swamped the canoe twice and Besi and Rachel had to get back in the water while Tu’uta bailed out the canoe.                         

When the canoe came close to ’Atatā, Tu’uta, Besi and Rachel could hear the waves crashing on the reef.  As they came nearer, they could make out the back of the waves as they rose and came down onto the coral.   Tu’uta had never been to ‘Atatā before.  He did not know where to look for the passage through the reef.  After the ordeal that they had already been through they feared that they were doomed to be smashed onto the rocks.   

It was then that they saw a school of fish.  The phosphorescence in the water illuminated the school as they swam through the dark sea below them.  Tu’uta followed the school.  It guided him through the passage in the reef.  A large wave lifted them up but it did not break and when they came down they were floating inside the calm of the lagoon. 

Rachel had been to ’Atatā before and knew where to look for the village.  Tu’uta brought the canoe ashore near the village and they raised the alarm.  It was now around 9.00 pm.

Tu’uta explained the situation to the people in ’Atatā and the town officer took a boat to Ha’atafu, the village at the north-western tip of Tongatapu.  From there they took a vehicle to the village of Nukunuku, where there was a police station.  The message arrived at the Nukunuku police station at about 10.00 pm. 

In the village of ’Atatā, Besi and Rachel were taken in to shelter in a house.  They were given some food and drink.  There was a family there that Rachel had stayed with in the past and they invited her to come and stay with them.  They had a daughter who was about the same age as Rachel.  Besi agreed to let her go.  She was bundled into a little thatched house, dressed into a long pink nylon nightie and put to bed.  She was woken up early Sunday morning, while it was still dark, to join the family going to church.

 On the cabin roof, we could see the headlights of cars running along Vuna Road in Nuku’alofa.  They looked so close but they were unreachable.  Overhead, the sky was full of stars.  To keep Rebecca calm, I told her stories and sang to her.  At one stage through the darkness, we saw Bob with Anna.  Rebecca wanted to swim over to him. But Bob told her to stay.  It was very difficult for Rebecca not to go to her father. 

On Malinoa, Ma’afu and Leigh saw the lights of the Olovaha, the new interisland ferry.  It was returning from its voyage to Vava’u and Ha’apai.  Leigh climbed the light tower and took with him a torch borrowed from the fishermen.  He tried to flash an SOS message to the ship as it passed by about a mile or two to the west of them.  However, the ship just sailed past without noticing the signal.

The police in Nukunuku phoned the police station in Nuku’alofa.  They then sent a car to Tupou College to verify the story.  Once the story was verified, Paula Vivili, the Superintendent of Police, organised a search party, which he led.  He contacted the harbour master to request that the pilot boat, the ’Unga, be made available for the search. 

Out at sea on the cabin roof, we positioned ourselves carefully to get the most support from the roof.  One side of the cabin wall still remained attached to the roof.  Frank offered me the life jacket so that I could sleep.  I was able to get some rest.  Then I returned it to him so that he could get some rest.  It was a very long night.  The water felt warmer than the air.  Even so, it was draining us of heat and energy.  During the night, Frank and I arranged to hold the cabin roof in such a way to allow Rebecca to get some sleep.  I put my tupenu over her and tied it to the rails along the cabin roof to help hold her steady.  Frank and I whispered to each other to avoid waking her.    

At about 2.00 am, Ma’afu and Leigh could see the search light panning over the water.  However, the search boat was searching the waters between the island of Fafā and Nuku’alofa.  They were looking in the wrong area for the sunken boat and survivors. 

Ma’afu used the torch to signal the search boat.  At about 4.00 am, the ’Unga arrived at Malinoa.  Ma’afu and Leigh boarded the boat and it continued to search the waters between Malinoa and Fafā.  Ma’afu encouraged Paula to search closer to ’Atatā.  However, Paula did not want to move too far because they had seen a signal from Fafā that they believed they must investigate before proceeding to ’Atatā.  At first light, the ’Unga threaded its way through the channel to Fafā.  There was a man waiting on the beach.  He explained that he saw the search lights and enquired if they wanted some help.  He was there looking after pigs.  It was now about 6.00 am. 

Frank, Rebecca and I had survived the night on the roof of the cabin.  The morning sky was full of soft pinks.  We had tried to give Rebecca as much support as possible by keeping her on the cabin roof.  Then Frank passed out and I had to hold him so that his head was on the roof to prevent him from drowning.  He came back and was able to hold on by himself.  But after a while, he passed out again and I had to hold him up again. 

After Fafā, the ’Unga steered towards ’Atatā, searching as it went.  It arrived there at about 8.00 am and found the red Ngaluta’ane was already there.  There were many people on the boat, including Siupeli Taliai, the principal of Tupou College.  The police who came on the Ngaluta’ane were ashore, interviewing Besi and Tu’uta to determine what had happened. 

Paula Vivili also went ashore but Leigh stayed on the ’Unga.  Following the standard procedures of police work, Paula questioned Tu’uta, Besi and Ma’afu about what had happened and took statements.  He talked to the local fishermen about the currents to determine where they should concentrate their search efforts. 

On the roof of the cabin, Frank had become conscious again.  He asked what had happened to him.  I think he realised that it was taking strength out of me to keep him alive.  He said that if he were to pass out again, we were to let him go. 

When he did pass out again I explained to Rebecca that we needed to take off his life jacket.  She objected at first, wanting to keep him with us.  I explained that he did not need it any more.   It was very difficult for us to undo the jacket and take it off him.  When we did get it off, his body moved away and slowly slipped into the deep.  Soon we could not see him any more.  I put the life jacket on.

We were drifting past ’Atatā but there was a white foaming reef between us and the island.  Rebecca wanted us to go towards the reef and the island.  I had to explain to her that the reef was dangerous and we had to keep away from it.  At one point, the current took us close to the reef and it looked as if the breakers would wash us onto the reef.  So Rebecca and I let go of the cabin roof and swam away from the roof and the reef.  After a little while, the roof was swept out again and we were able to return to it.

On ’Atatā, it was about 9.30 am when Paula and the other police came back to the boats with Ma’afu.   Both Ma’afu and Leigh were impatient and felt that the police had taken too much time collecting statements in ‘Atatā.  Ma’afu was determined to stay and continue the search on the Ngaluta’ane.

Besi could not walk.  Now that her body had warmed up, she had great pain in her chest and from the burns to her legs and back.  She was carried out to the ‘Unga and put in a bunk in the cabin.  Rachel was in much better shape after the ordeal.   She sat on the bench in the wheelhouse with Leigh.  They were to be taken back to Nuku’alofa.  The petrol burns on Besi’s skin needed medical attention.    

The Ngaluta’ane steered westward towards the village of Ha’atafu on the north-west tip of Tongatapu .  After it cleared the reef, it turned to the north-east to follow the line of reefs that extend from the north-west tip of Tongatapu and towards the reef called Hakau Mama’o, which is about nine miles (15 kilometres) to the north of Nuku’alofa.   

Out at sea, on the cabin roof both Rebecca and I were very cold and thirsty.  We noticed a green ball floating by.  I realised that it was an orange.  I peeled it and made Rebecca eat all of it.  It was very sour.  The sun was now beating down upon our dehydrated bodies and it was making us feel dizzy. 

We could see ’Atatā was very near.  It was now well into the morning and there was no sign of any search party.  It seemed that we were forgotten.  If we did not get help soon, we would both go the way that Frank had.  I used my tupenu to tie Rebecca onto the roof of the cabin again and I told her to stay there.  ’Atatā was now very close to us, a bit over a mile away, and I told her that I was going to swim back there to get some water.      

I had swum about five to ten yards when I saw the red hull of the Ngaluta’ane looming out of the waves.   We were rescued at last.  I relaxed and stopped swimming, allowing the rescuers to pick me up.  In the process I swallowed some water.  It was choking me but I did not have the strength to cough it out.  The rescuers lifted me out of the water and put me on the deck of the boat but I was now unconscious. 

When Rebecca saw the rescue boat, she was excited.  She blew hard on the whistle on her life jacket, waved her hands.  At first it appeared to her that the boat was going to pass.  Her mouth was dry and she felt weak.  Then the boat pulled up right beside her.  A man jumped out and put a rope around her and the other rescuers on board the boat pulled her onto the deck. All she could say was “malo”, thankyou.  She was so grateful to be rescued. 

The rescuers wrapped her in a blanket and took her to the wheelhouse.  They gave her some water but she could not keep it down and vomited over herself and the floor.  Then they lay her down in a bunk.       

It was just after 10.00 am by this time.  The doctor examined me and proclaimed that I was still alive.  This news was radioed to the ’Unga and Besi, Rachel and Leigh were very grateful to hear that Rebecca and ’Elisepa had been rescued.

The doctor found that I still had a pulse, but I was not breathing.  He tried mouth to mouth resuscitation.  But the water which was now in my lungs was preventing the air reaching my lungs.  I was lying on my back, face upwards and unconscious.  Even if I were aware of the water in my lungs, I was too weak to cough it out. The doctor looked for a tube to suck the water out but he could not find any.  Ma’afu suggested to one of the policemen that they cut the wire from his radio and use the plastic cover as a tube but the policeman was not interested. Despite the doctor’s efforts, I lay face up on the cold hard deck and drowned in little more than a cup of water that stayed in my lungs.

The Ngaluta’ane continued the search, hoping to find Bob, Anna and Frank.  About a mile and a half on, they found the hull of the boat.  But it had now capsized and there was no sign of Bob and Anna.  The police asked Rebecca if she could remember where they had let go of Frank’s body, but she was not able to help them. 

At around 11.00 am, the Ngaluta’ane radioed the ’Unga, requesting that it return to ’Atatā to pick up those rescued.  Although it was confirmed that Rebecca was alive, they did not mention me.   By this time the ’Unga was in front of the palace in Nuku’alofa and approaching Vuna wharf.  It did not have far to go before it would arrive at its destination, the Fa’ua boat harbour.  Besi was suffering severe pain by this time.  She needed medical help.  The skipper asked her if she was willing to return to ’Atatā or did she want to continue to shore.  She felt for those in need and agreed to return to ’Atatā, even though it meant she would remain in pain for many more hours. 

The ’Unga returned.  Although it was used as the pilot boat, it was now an old boat and was not fast.  The ’Unga arrived back at ’Atatā at around 1.00 pm.  

It was there for about an hour.  The crew and the people on board needed to be fed.  Ma’afu explained to Leigh what happened to me when I was found.  Now that I had passed away, Ma’afu was very disappointed with the way I was treated and the inadequate efforts to revive me.  Also, he felt very guilty for persuading me to come on this picnic.   

My body, which was wrapped in a tupenu of white cloth with flower patterns of coloured flowers, was placed on the shelf at the back of the wheelhouse, behind the bench seat. When the ’Unga returned to Nuku’alofa, Besi, Rachel and Leigh were on the bench seat and Leigh was holding Rebecca.  I was lying just behind them.  Ma’afu had remained on the Ngaluta’ane to continue the search.

Rebecca was cold to the core and Leigh could feel her body drawing heat from his.  As they travelled back to Nuku’alofa, she told Leigh about what happened after he left to swim back to Malinoa.  Only Leigh was aware that my lifeless body was just behind them. 

In Tonga on Sundays, the radio station did not broadcast until 3.00pm in the afternoon.  It was then that the news was made known about the boat accident.  Many people in Nuku’alofa knew someone on the boat.  So when the ’Unga arrived at the Fa’ua wharf at about 4.00 pm, there were crowds of people waiting at the wharf. 

Besi, Rebecca and Rachel were taken by ambulance to the hospital.  Rachel was able to leave the same day but Rebecca had to stay until the next day.  Besi had suffered significant skin injuries from the petrol of the outboard motor.  She needed to stay in hospital for more than a week. 

Word was sent to Margaret Springett in Samoa to return to Tonga.  It was not until she arrived back in Tonga on the Monday that she was advised of the extent of her loss. 

Pupunu Kupu was there and took Leigh to his home in Ngele’ia.  The next morning, Leigh pedalled his bicycle back to Tupou College.  In Tupou College, some teachers and farm staff had erected a shelter near the Springett’s home and were drinking kava and singing songs in the manner of a wake in Tonga. 

Boats and aircraft continued to search for Bob, Anna and Frank for a week after the accident.  People were sent to swim into dangerous reefs in search of the bodies but there was nothing found. 

Ma’afu accompanied my body when it was sent to Vava’u to be buried.  In Nuku’alofa, crowds lined the street as my body was taken to the boat.  Then in Vava’u, crowds lined the roads as my body was taken to my village of Ha’alaufuli to be buried.      

The boat accident continued to have a profound effect on the lives of many people who were involved.  My father was never the same.  When I qualified and became a theatre nurse at Vaiola Hospital, I took out a loan from the bank to build a new house for my parents.  It was built on a small hill to catch the breeze with louvered windows around a living room.  It had two bedrooms at one end.  After my funeral, my father would just sit for hours cross-legged in the middle of that living room.  Fortunately, the loan was insured so that when I died, the insurance fully paid off the loan. 

Ma’afu eventually married Elina.  They named their first daughter, ’Elisepa, after me.  I know that even though that daughter gave him much joy, whenever Ma’afu called her name, he would remember me.   Ma’afu was often questioned himself as to why he had done this and not that.  Well meaning friends would tell him that he should have stayed with the boat rather than swim back to Malinoa.  Both Ma’afu and Leigh agreed that if they had not swum back to Malinoa, all of them would have been lost.  Ma’afu later moved with his family to New Zealand.

 Besi returned to Melbourne after she had recuperated.  She went on to write a book entitled “Queen Salote of Tonga”.  She said that she felt obligated to write the book in response, if not in recompense, for the boat accident.  The accident haunted her for the rest of her life.  She met up with Leigh many years later and together they discussed the events and their feelings.  They met also with the Rev. David Theim, from the Uniting Church in Queanbeyan where Leigh lived.  She felt that these meetings helped her to come to terms with the events of May 1977. 

Margaret Springett was devastated by the loss of Bob and Anna.  She stayed on in Tonga for another 18 months, continuing her husband’s work at Tupou College.  Then she returned to New Zealand, to be Matron at Knox College in Dunedin for three years.  This was a difficult and lonely time for her, but it enabled her to return to New Zealand and support Rebecca and Rachel.  Following this, she trained and was ordained as a Methodist Minister in Auckland.  She had become friends with Bob’s brother, Roger.  When she was appointed to Taranaki, she married him.

Leigh found it very difficult living at Tupou College for the remainder of that year.  He had lost Bob, who had been a very supportive friend to him.  Also, he felt that there was an overtone that he was responsible for the tragedy.   In the following two years he worked for the Tongan government in the Central Planning Office.  In the early 1980s and again in the early 1990s, he worked as economist for the Tonga government Treasury. 

Rebecca missed her father.  He was a kind, generous and very capable man.  She also missed her little sister whom she felt was the cutest, lovely little six year old. Rebecca looked for things to remind her of her little sister.  She clutched onto these things to help keep Anna’s memory alive.  She was grateful for the love and support they continued to receive at Tupou College as they recuperated after the disaster. 

Slowly the family had to accept that their father and sister were not going to return.  Rebecca felt the loss of the security that her father had provided for her.   After seven years of sharing in the life and laughter of the College, as well as the sorrow, it was with great sadness that she left Tupou College when the family moved to Dunedin.  Although logic told her that her father was gone, she refused to believe it in her heart.  She worked hard at university to make her family, including her father, proud of her.  Her father and little sister were never found, but their memories lived on as she told and retold the story of that fateful day. 

For Rebecca and all those who survived, and for family and friends who were not on the boat, the scars are still there and the loss, longing and sadness still hurt.  It was the day that I died.  Yet, I was not alone.  It was a day that I died together with Bob, Anna and Frank.  And five people survived: Rachel, Rebecca, Besi, Ma’afu and Leigh.  They went on to live their lives and make their mark on the world.  Even so, they were all haunted and shaped by that day.