At the Sinvay Internet Cafe of Tifu I’d heard about a tour to a waterfall about one hour boat ride down the coast. The next morning Marce begged off needing executive time and I confess that I was still a little foggy due to general passage fatigue as I clambered into our friends’ tiny dinghy for a ride to the town jetty. The usual chaos was in full swing.
“What time did they say?”
“Have we changed time zones?”
“Always a possibility.”
“Maybe they meant 9 am, what time is it?”
“Well, where are they?”
“They’re on island time, they’ll get here.”
And so they did. Soon we clambered aboard a couple of long narrow, but colorful, open air outboards and hobby horsed out of Tifu harbor.
It was quite rough and when we arrived at the beach there was a lot of conversation and serious faces as they planned where to drop their anchors and then backed up to the beach to disgorge all the yachties. The boats in the surf were like bucking Broncos in the hands of the crews, while we jumped off the transom into the water.
Locals were there to welcome us to their beach with drums and dance. This is only the second time yachties ever visited this waterfall. Pure jaw-dropping unspoiled magic. I expect there to be a resort here soon.
Predictably the conditions worsened during our stay and we were soaked with saltwater spray by the time we rounded the rocks back to Tifu harbor. This was one for the books.