The town of Neiafu is tucked up in a long sound at the heart of an archipelago peppered with limestone islands.

The channel to town was painted in our favorite colors.

We spent a couple of days wandering the dusty streets of Neiafu, waiting for clear weather to explore the islands. The day started with a provisioning stop at the bustling produce market.

While the very hippest of Tongans like their veg…

… the bigger ones are always ready for a fish sammich.

Island life can be a little mind numbing when your day is spent moving watermelon.

We saw a mix of western wear and traditional Tongan dress. Actually the lad on the far right is not in a dress but a traditional school uniform.

The suburbs were overgrown and shady. Just the kind of place for a smiling Comfort Pig to take a nap.

Or watch the tourists.

All matters of pig society were under the bright watchful eye of this wise old boar.

Life in these parts appears to be a struggle to prevent the jungle from reclaiming the homestead.

This venerable chap was doing his part.

The Vava’u Club was in slow decay…

but the good people at S.A.S. Finance were aware of this and are standing by to help with that second mortgage or car loan.

While houses erupt and then return to the bush in a regular cycle, familial memories run deep here and the lost are not forgotten.

There was nice view of town from the top of a hill. We were glad not to be tied to the wretched container dock, clearing customs with Dreamcatcher.

It was time for us to leave and we saw ourselves as a proud speck in the universal fraternity of seafarers who share the common struggle to get underway.

It’s an ancient fraternity including Noah, Lord Nelson, Dreamcatcher, Bint Al Khamseen and these Tongan seapups.