Atiu (it’s pronounced like “ah-chew,’ but with a “t” instead of a “ch”) is very different than most of the other Cook Islands.
You can see the difference flying in. The airstrip is unpaved, hard-packed coral.
The terminal is tiny and there are no promotions for hotels and lagoon tours to greet you.
That's because Atiu has no lagoon, no barrier reef, and no beaches you can swim from, so water sports other than fishing are pretty well out of the question.
The island is still rising out of the sea. As a result, what was once a fringing reef is now dry land.
The tiny harbor is the only place you can safely enter the water. The locals congregate here on weekends to swim and picnic. The harbor is too small to accommodate the inter-island freighter that delivers cargo to the island every five or six weeks, so the freight is offloaded piece by piece onto small boats to be brought ashore.
I booked a flight to Atiu on impulse because I read that very few tourists visit there. It wasn’t until a bit later that I realized that there was no diving. I almost canceled, but the place just sounded too intriguing to pass up.
Only 400 people live on the island, and that population is dwindling rapidly. Ten years ago there were 900, but there’s very little opportunity, so the young people tend to leave as soon as they can. They have tried to encourage tourism, but a tropical island without beaches is a hard sell to most tourists. Atiu averages about twelve visitors on the island per day, not enough to generate significant income.
That’s too bad, because the island has a lot of interesting features, especially including a unique ecosystem featuring plant and animal species found nowhere else.
There are more wild pigs on the island than people, about 1500. They provide a reliable source of protein, but they also are very dangerous and destructive. If you meet a group of them in the forest, you better hope there's a climbable tree nearby.
One of the locals was talking about a "break-in" at his place in which he lost fifty banana plants. It took me a while to realize he was talking about wild pigs breaking through his fence and destroying his crop. They also love taro; a herd of them can eat an entire field in a night.
The roving groups of goats aren't feral, but they are free range, as are the chickens.
The main reason that Atiu has preserved its ecosystem is that it is one of the very few islands that has never been invaded by either the ship rat or the Norwegian rat. The Polynesian brown rat is found on the island, but it doesn't pose a threat to native species like the ship rat. The authorities are doing their best to make sure that these pests are kept out.
Atiu recently finished a campaign to eradicate mynah birds on the island. The mynahs, smart and aggressive birds, have taken over most island in the South Pacific to the detriment of native species. Getting rid of the mynahs has made it possible to reintroduce several species that had gone extinct in the Cooks, but had remnant populations in French Polynesia.
Reestablishing a population of kura, the red and green Rimatara lorikeets pictured above, has been a major success. Mynahs weren't completely responsible for the kura's disappearance from Atiu, however. They were extensively hunted for their red feathers which were used to decorate the chief's loincloth.
Only a few roads on the island are paved. The rest are packed coral, like the airport runway.
Most of the forest is almost impenetrable, a tangle of foliage and coral rock that is spiky and extremely sharp. You can get a bad cut just brushing against it.
The land is owned communally, by families, with everyone in the family owning a share. Some tracts have been laboriously cleared and planted with taro, breadfruit, coconut, banana, and other food crops.
The property I stayed at, Atiu Villas, is owned by a local woman who married a New Zealander. They decided to build their dream house and an eco-resort here many years ago. The main house still isn't built, but the six detached villas are built almost entirely from native materials. They are very comfortable, at least in the winter. The lack of air conditioning might be a problem in the summer. I was lucky enough to come during a very dry spell, so mosquitos were not a problem.
The villas are self-catering. Each has a fully-stocked pantry and kitchen. That's a good thing because other than the property's restaurant, which serves only dinner, there are only a couple places to eat on the island. All restaurants and stores are closed on Sunday. So cooking your own meals is a must at some point. Unfortunately, the local markets offer no produce, herbs, or fruit, so your culinary palette is very limited. Unless you want canned spaghetti, canned or frozen meat, or ramen, you pretty much are stuck with eggs, cheese, and bread. I finally found a package of frozen bacon, but the real treasure was a handful of tiny Thai chiles that I discovered growing by the side of the road.
A favorite way for the islanders, especially the men, to relax is drinking bush beer at the local tumunu. This is the modern version of the kava ceremony. Kava was outlawed here by the missionaries, though it survived in tumunus in the bush outside the villages. Atiu was often visited by whalers in those days. The whalers didn't like kava (not nearly potent enough), so they taught the islanders to brew beer from local ingredients. Oranges were a favorite. The tradition persists, though most brewers now use imported grains and hops for their brew. Tumunus were finally legalized in the 1990s, however, attendance is still discouraged by the local churches.
The concoction is brewed in a barrel carved from the base of a coconut tree, and varies in alcoholic content, but is usually fairly strong and surprisingly tasty. The brewmaster brings in the beer in a large plastic bucket and passes drinks out one at a time in a single coconut shell. Patrons pay a small donation to cover the night's drinking and bar snacks--fruit and coconut slices. People tell stories or sing or, if there's a football match, watch the game on a small flatscreen TV.
There are about five tumunus on the island. Each brewmaster has his own secret recipe and his own following. The drinking sometimes goes on almost until dawn. The men in the place I visited assured me that women were welcome and that they could usually drink the men under the table.
Domesticated pigs, dogs, and chickens often join the group.
One of the most visited attractions on Atiu is Anatakitaki cave, the home of an extremely rare bird, the kopeka. The kopeka is the only known bird that can echolocate in darkness like a bat. The only way to get to the cave is via a treacherous path through the forest.
Hiking over the loose, razor-sharp coral rocks takes good shoes and good balance. You do not want to lose your footing. Even a slight brush can take off some skin.
Our guide told us that this old mahogany tree is probably worth about $70,000. Luckily, hauling out the lumber would be cost-prohibitive.
The coral rock, porous limestone, is easily shaped by rainwater percolating through it. Their are many caves on the island. Anatakitaki is one of the largest. Besides the kopeka, the cave is home to large red crabs that prey on the kopeka's eggs and young.
Picture from Wikipedia
The kopeka is a small, swift-like bird. Its closest relation is a bird found only on Guam, many thousands of miles away. However, that bird doesn't echolocate. The kopeka uses its eyes to look for food outside the cave, then switches to echolocation when it returns. As it gets further away from the light, the clicks it uses to navigate get more and more rapid. As we turned our lights off and on, we could hear the clicks speed up and slow down in response. The kopeka never perches outside the cave.
A large banyan tree is growing right on top of the cave, sending down a curtain of roots.
The roots also grow right through the roof of the cave to penetrate the floor beneath.
On Sunday, I went to the biggest church on the island to listen to the singing. Most people in the Cook Islands are Church of England, but there is also a Catholic congregation. Seventh Day Adventists, Mormons, and Jehovah's Witnesses also have followers here.
The singing was beautiful, with lovely harmonies. The many teenagers were surreptitiously passing notes and whispering to each other until silenced by the stern eye of one of the older female congregants.
Everyone was dressed in their Sunday best. The ladies sported a fine array of decorated hats.
Near the church is a memorial to Atiuans who were killed in World War One in service with Australian/New Zealand Commonwealth troops. Many of them died in the disaster at Gallipoli.
Atiu has several times tried to start a coffee industry. Each time it has failed to make enough money to sustain itself. The current owner is a local woman, Mata Arai. Her coffee is hand picked, processed and roasted over an open fire in coconut cream. The unique combination of wood-smoke, dark and mild roast, and coconut results in a delicious brew. Mata offers a tour of her coffee plantation that ends in her kitchen with a fresh-brewed pot of coffee and homemade pancakes with jam. There's a creamer of coconut milk on the table. The nuttiness of the milk pairs very well with the flavors of Mata's coffee.
Mata's harvest from this year. She says there is more demand for her coffee in Rarotonga and Aitutaki than she can meet. Her biggest obstacle is finding enough workers from the island's dwindling population.
The other rare bird found on Atiu is the kakerori, or Rarotongan Flycatcher. We were lucky enough to find this juvenile in some bushes beside the road. When the bird is about two years old its orange plumage will change to gray. In 1992, the ship rat had reduced the kakerori on Rarotonga to only 29 birds. Conservation efforts were able to slowly increase that population, and 30 birds were moved to Atiu in the early 2000s. The population on Atiu alone is now over 600 birds.
The island's resident naturalist, George Mateariki, better known as Birdman George, is employed by the Takitumu Conservation Area to look after the kakerori. He also gives an excellent ecotour of Atiu highlighting the uses of many of the island's native plant species as well as some amazing bird-watching.
At the end of the tour, George serves a meal that is entirely locally produced. He makes the plates himself from palm leaves, All the fruit is from his garden: banana, lime, orange, coconut, and passionfruit.
Everything on the plate was caught, raised, or shot by George: raw tuna marinated in coconut milk and lime juice, and fish, chicken and wild pig roasted in a traditional stone-lined pit. The steamed taro and sauteed hibiscus leaves are from his garden. It was a delicious meal.
I was rather amused by this tombstone in the local cemetery.until George mentioned that Ah Foo was his grandfather. George is part native Atiuan, part Chinese, and part Scottish.
If you're planning to visit the Cook Islands, add Atiu to your itinerary. It's a unique destination, very different from Rarotonga or Aitutaki. It was a highlight of my trip through the South Pacific.
P.
