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CAVING IN THE COOKS ~
Article by Emily Nixon, with photos by Jeff Dicken



































































Continued next page.
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Dark and enclosed spaces don’t usually thrill me. Neither do claustrophobic swimming pools.
So, as I gingerly inch my way into the chilly, candle-lit waters of Anatakitaki Cave on the
Cook Island of Atiu, it doesn’t surprise me that my heart skips a beat – then another!
“Don’t worry,” reassures Marshall Humphreys, our
New Zealand-born guide, who is calm and
comfortable in this spooky cavern. “You won’t be
attacked by any creepy crawlers.” The aquamarine
blue water is  clearer than polished crystal and
there’s no sign of any living creatures in the
ancient subterranean pond. Although I’m the only
brave water baby in our tour group of six, I quickly
put my fears aside and submerge into the tropical
oasis.
The fifteen exotic Cook Islands lie halfway between Tahiti and Fiji and scatter over
two-million square kms of the South Pacific Ocean. Air New Zealand provides exemplary
service from Los Angeles to Rarotonga, making it a doable destination for North Americans,
then Air Rarotonga  offers puddle jump flights from the Cook Islands capital to the outer
atolls.
Atiu is just one of these precious jewels. Like the other isles, it’s known for its rugged
beauty and warm Polynesian hospitality. Because it was formed during pre-glacial periods
when the sea levels were much higher, the entire mass is encompassed by sixty metre
cliffs. These mile-wide impenetrable rings that are comprised of makatea, a fossilized
coral, circumvent the island and are riddled with caves.
Stalactites and stalagmites glitter like diamonds
in the rough, and after I emerge from my
refreshing dip, they guide us throughout the
cavern. Anatakitaki is also known as the ‘Cave of
the Kopekas,’ named after the thousands of
resident swifts or swallow-like birds. They nest in
the clammy depths, using a form of echolocation,
similar to that of a bat, to detect their way. As we
fumble along the pathway by torchlight,
we can hear the eerie chatter and clicks of their
cries.
Rima Rau Burial Cave is another of Atiu’s
daunting dens that we skeptically venture
into. “In the native language, this name
equates to five hundred deaths,” Humphreys
says casually, as if reporting something like
the weather. Based on the visual remains, we
gather he’s telling the truth. Flanking our
narrow route is a primordial grave site,
displaying an array of bones and human skulls,
some that are still bearing teeth! As we slither
through this subterranean tomb, I stare into empty eyes and literally rub elbows with