Skipping Ahead

I am skipping ahead of the rest of Argentina and Brazil in order to share a very special experience I recently had in Tonga. During our mid-project break, a fellow volunteer and I flew up to the northern island group of Tonga called Vava'u. The flight is only 55 minutes long and an ideal option compared to the 24 hour ferry ride as well as affording stunning views of the South Pacific's canvas of graduating blues of the water and green islands piped with white sand. I took some wonderful photos from the plane. Arriving in Vava'u we set about arranging our priority activity for our time there-- whale-watching. For twenty paang'a more you can upgrade your experience with the whales to whale-swimming. Although faint of heart around any locale which could contain a shark within fifty miles, I was not going to let my old phobia stand in the way of swimming with whales.
Between June and September, humpback whales migrate to the warmer climate surrounding Tonga to have their babies, choosing Vava'u as the main hangout. If you ever get to see how beautiful Vava'u is, you won't doubt their decision. We set out in a boat on an unpromising morning of rain but stayed steadfastly hopeful the weather would clear. It did within a half hour, and the clouds scattered in every direction to leave the sky clear and gently sunny. The boat located the first whale within the hour and then three more within the next twenty minutes. I could not believe how easy it was to find them-like shooting fish in a barrel! The captain chose two calm males for us to concetrate on, and they came a few times within twenty feet of the boat, breaching the water, blowing spray, and flipping their elegant white backed tails to us as they dove deep into the sea. They were huge and lovely.
After about ten minutes of watching them investigate our boat, the captain ordered the first group into the water with their snorkeling gear so they could get a better look. In the water for about ten minutes at a go, our group was divided into two. I was part of the second group. My first outing into the open water was wonderful and we spotted the two males about a hundred feet away. The water was so clear even without my glasses I could make out what each whale look like. The second time I went in though was an experience to remember. In the water for about four minutes, swimming with my head under the water and looking below me at the bottomless sea, suddenly two creatures loomed into vision, resting about fifty feet right below us. Upon seeing us, they eyed us benevolently, their bodies transformed into magical shades of blue and violet in the light diffused water, almost dreamlike. Waiting only a minute, they then turned up directly tpwards us, turning over and over, white belly to black back, as if they were putting on a show to give us the most bang for our buck. They came within ten feet, swimming gracefully and languidly for our benefit it seemed, and then, were off, as if suddenly overtaken with shyness.
Spotting the whales from a boat is great, don't get me wrong, but it falls far short of the luxury of being in their own environment and seeing them whole. Just beautiful, and I am so happy I put aside my open water fears and went under. I would always have regretted it if I had said no to going in.
But, on my way in to the boat after the second trip in, I looked down and saw a huge school of fish swimming under me, and what was the first thought in my mind? Where prey goes, predators follow, and up I scrambled into waiting boat and there I stayed for the rest of the day. But I had gained an indescribable and unexpected experience, so I happily sat aboard, dry, warm, and out of harm's way.