On my way from Fiji to Tuvalu in 2010, I did a stopover in Tonga. It was a lazy Saturday afternoon in its tiny capital Nukualofa.  I was strolling though town, taking a picture of the quite modest wooden building of the Kings’s Palace, visited the market which was already about to close and ate Ota Ika, raw fish marinated in coconut cream and citrus juice. Quite delicious. After a few sundowners I went back to my Bed&Breakfast since I had an early boat trip next day to bring me to an outer island.

Early next morning, way too early, I woke up when some fellow guests, obviously drunken or so, were hammering at my door. First I stayed put in the room, Tongans are physically one of the strongest people on earth and Rugby is a national Tongan pastime and I did not feel prepared for a competition. Tsunami warning!!!

Only slowly I got the full picture: A heavy earthquake had occurred off the coast of central Chile and had triggered a tsunami, which was now approaching the South Pacific islands. My hammering friends made no nonsense. Together with them I had to leave the house immediately: They gave me and them only minutes to reach higher and safer grounds. Honestly, I did not know what to expect from higher grounds on a South Pacific island. Anyway, within minutes I was rushed in car to an open field. it went so fast hat I even forgot my camera. Clear sign of my flurry since I normally never forget my camera. 

As it dawned and I saw where we had been evacuated to, I sincerely regretted my faltering resilience. I was, together with lots of strong Tongans munching placidly tons of chips, in a beautifully manicured garden, obviously somewhere in the center of the island, My estimate was, after all, that we were roughly ten meters above sea level. It did not help to relax.

As it became increasingly clear that there would at least be no serious tsunami hitting Tonga, the locals just continued munching chips. I learned that we were in a garden owned by the King. On normal days, one of my hammering friends was explaining me, non of us would ever have the chance to enter such a garden, since the garden was „tapu“  in Polynesian languages. It needed a Tsunami to learn that the English term taboo comes fro tapu, with such meanings as “prohibited” or “forbidden“.