Welkam To The Hapi Isles

For kiters, surfers and divers, the many islands of the Solomons offer spectacular promise as well as wonderfully wholehearted people.

- Gabi Steindl

“MISS, PLEASE STEP ON THE SCALE”. The lady behind the check-in desk shot me a betel nut-stained smile.

You know you’re flying somewhere remote when they weigh you as well as your bags. That impression was confirmed when my precious board bag was belted down across several reclined seats by the co-pilot himself.

Further east than New Guinea, the Solomon Islands are truly offthe beaten track, seeing only about 6,000 tourists a year. I quickly discovered that photographer Stephan Kleinlein and I were among the first to come to this South Pacific archipelago of almost 1,000 islands, searching for wind and waves.

On first impressions, Honiara, the capital, was a little intimidating. Dusty streets were mined with massive potholes and choked with traffic. Throngs of people filled the pavements, dreadlocked and black-as-soot, many with little betel nut bags around their necks, periodically gobbing blood-red jets of spit.

It didn’t help that I was shaken out of bed quite literally by a 6.7 earthquake at 6am on my first morning. The early start was handy though, as we were meeting Simon Downing, a diplomat at the Australian High Commission, who took us freediving on the 135-metre Kinugawa Maru, one of scores of wrecks that litter this corner of the Pacific, on land and in the water [see box, right, for more on diving].

Downing told us how on his last visit, he and his girlfriend were chased by a saltwater crocodile. Climbing onto the only small part of the wreck above water, they were marooned there for hours as the slate cruised round them.