Atiu Vet Trek 2011

Day 1- Flying to Paradise

‘Vet-Trek 108- Atiu’. It sounds rather survivor-esque. And it does involve two intrepid volunteers being castaway on an isolated pacific island.

Fortunately for Fenna and myself, the local inhabitants are friendly and welcoming and have generously accommodated us in a cozy guesthouse for the duration of our stay. We are here under the auspices of the Esther Honey Foundation, providing free veterinary services to the local animal population for the next five days.

Pre-trip planning and packing completed this morning (with a good half hour to spare), we headed to the airport. Checking in, the lovely staff of Air Rarotonga kindly overlooked our excess baggage, allowing us to take near 50kg of medical and surgical supplies aboard the little ten-seater plane that was our passage to the ‘Island of the Birds’.

We buckled up for our 45 min flight to paradise. Taxi-ing down the runway a little under an hour later, it became apparent that even paradise can suffer from Monday-itis. Splashing through a steady downpour to meet Maara- our local organiser- and then to tour our makeshift clinic for the week (to henceforth be known as the veterinary veranda) we perhaps weren’t seeing the island at it’s best. But with a week ahead and patients galore roaming the streets, who’s to quibble over a little rain!



Day 2- Down to Business

Our first Atiu morning was heralded in, appropriately (if not pleasantly) but the sounds of barking dogs at dawn. The grand opening of our veterinary veranda, scheduled for 8am, was also less than ceremonious as an early inundation of animals sent Fenna and I scrambling.

Working through the mild chaos, we eventually managed to set up our theatre and get to work under the Esther Honey banner. A small menagerie of animals passed through our care over the course of the day, and we gradually settled into a rhythm, gaining confidence with our field protocols as we progressed.

One thing stands our when operating as a vet in circumstances and in a community such as this- my work is now a spectator sport. Never before have my incisions and stitches been subject to such scrutiny. Throughout the day we were attended by the local mamas and papas and children, not to mention the actual pet owners. In a strange paradox, these owners, who have access to a vet perhaps once or twice a year, end up having a much greater knowledge of the actual work we do than most of their western counterparts.

The conversation of the locals was a welcome distraction through the heat of the day, although, being predominately in Maori, we often had little idea of what was actually being discussed. As the day ended and our final patient was loaded into a wheelbarrow for the walk home, our surgery count stood at eleven. Six dog speys, two cat speys, two dog castrates and one cat castrate. Not a bad start to the week.

(Pictures to come soon)