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The Six Tongan Castaways: A 15-Month Survival Epic on a Deserted Island


Escape from Boredom Turns to Disaster

In June 1965, six teenage friends at a boarding school in Tonga decided to escape their mundane routine in search of adventure. Ranging in age from 13 to 18, Sione Fataua, “Stephen” Tevita Latu, Kolo Fekitoa, David Tevita, Luke Veikoso, and “Mano” Sione Totau “borrowed” a 24-foot boat from a local fisherman one evening, dreaming of reaching Fiji or even New Zealand. The boys set sail with only a few bananas, coconuts, and a small gas burner between them – no map or compass in their haste to flee. That first night, however, a violent storm blew up. They had made the grave mistake of leaving the sail up; it was quickly shredded, and the rudder snapped, leaving them adrift at the mercy of the winds.


For eight harrowing days, the boys drifted in the open Pacific with no food and almost no water. They bailed out their little boat constantly to keep it afloat, catching what rain they could in coconut shells to sip just a few drops each day. “The boat was all torn up, no rudder, no sails, and for eight days we drifted with no food, no rain to drink,” Sione recalled, “We prayed, knowing only God could save us.”  Exhausted, dehydrated, and starving, they nearly lost hope. On the eighth day, as if in answer to their prayers, the sight of an island broke the horizon, not a lush tropical paradise, but a forbidding mass of rock jutting from the sea.


Stranded on ‘Ata Island

The rocky island was ‘Ata, an uninhabited volcanic remnant about 100 miles from Tonga. As the swell carried their crippled boat closer, it smashed against the coastal reefs of ‘Ata, forcing the boys to abandon it and swim for shore. It was nighttime when they finally staggered onto the narrow beach, weak and in the dark. Mano, the strongest among them, swam ahead to scout land. He crawled ashore on hands and knees, too frail to stand, but managed to cry out that he was alive before collapsing. One by one the others followed over the next 36 hours, clinging to wreckage planks and each other until all six were safely on land. They collapsed on the beach, said a prayer of thanks for their deliverance, and fell into a deep sleep, utterly exhausted.

One of the stranded boys gazes out from a cliff on ‘Ata Island, surveying the vast Pacific. The isolated island, with its steep cliffs and rocky shore would become their home for 15 months.
One of the stranded boys gazes out from a cliff on ‘Ata Island, surveying the vast Pacific. The isolated island, with its steep cliffs and rocky shore would become their home for 15 months.

When daylight came, the castaways took stock of their situation. They were alone on a wild, forested rock with sheer cliffs rising around them “a hulking mass of rock” rather than any idyllic beach. With no shelter or fresh water in sight, survival became their immediate mission. Using their bare hands, the boys dug out a shallow cave under an overhang for refuge. They scavenged what they could from the wreck, a few planks and a metal container, then turned to nature for sustenance. At first, they subsisted on raw seafood and whatever they could catch or forage. They speared fish in tidal pools and snared seabirds, drinking the birds’ blood to stay hydrated and eating their meat and eggs to survive. Hunger and thirst were constant companions those first weeks. Rainfall was scarce, so every drop was precious; the boys learned to hollow out tree trunks to collect and store rainwater when occasional storms passed over. If desperation set in, they had to get creative, even drinking raw bird blood when no fresh water was available. It was a grim, bare-bones existence at the start, but they were alive and determined to remain so.


Building a Cooperative Island Life

As days turned to weeks, the six castaways realized that cooperation and discipline were their keys to survival. Early on, they made a pact to live harmoniously, sharing everything as they had been taught in their tight-knit Tongan families. They organized themselves into teams of two and established a strict daily roster: tending a small garden, keeping the fire, cooking, stand-up night guard, every chore was rotated evenly. Through trial and error, they found ways not just to survive, but to live with a semblance of normalcy on the island. The boys built a thatched lean-to hut for better shelter once they regained some strength, weaving coconut fronds for walls and laying banana leaves for bedding. After many failed attempts, Stephen Latu, who had a knack for mechanics , succeeded in rubbing two sticks until they sparked. The boys finally had fire, and they kept that flame alive continuously for over a year, never letting it die out. With fire, they could cook fish and birds, greatly improving their diet and morale.


In time, they also discovered that ‘Ata had once been inhabited. After about three months, a daring climb up the craggy slopes into the island’s high interior revealed an abandoned village site in an ancient volcanic crater. Among the remnants of Kolomaile village, the boys found a small oasis of resources left by the people who’d lived there a century before. Wild taro grew in the crater, stands of banana trees bore fruit, and descendants of domesticated chickens wandered the jungle, feral survivors of ‘Ata’s long-ago residents. Thrilled by this discovery, the castaways transformed the old settlement into their new home. They planted additional seeds, trapped the wild chickens for eggs and meat, and expanded their rainwater collection system with larger tree-trunk reservoirs. Life on ‘Ata was still hard, but now they had food crops, livestock, and water, the foundations of a sustainable camp.


Crucially, they maintained a spirit of unity and optimism. Every morning and evening the group sang hymns and prayed together, drawing on their faith to keep hope alive. One of the boys, Kolo, even fashioned a makeshift guitar from driftwood and scrap wire, and the teens would gather to sing songs at night under the stars. They composed songs and told stories, making the lonely island feel a bit more like home. Any conflicts that arose were handled with maturity far beyond their years. “Nights around the fire were for airing grievances,” Sione explained. If someone was upset, they would calmly discuss it, apologize, pray together, and forgive, “then pray and everything’s okay.” If tempers ran hot, an aggrieved boy would take a cooling-off walk by the shore to clear his head. This system of open communication prevented small arguments from exploding into division. In Sione’s words, “we all come from close and poor families where, whatever you get, you share”  and that ethos of sharing and solidarity guided them on the island.


All six castaways together in front of the thatched hut they built on ‘Ata, holding the homemade guitar that lifted their spirits. Through teamwork and ingenuity, the boys created a tiny communal village on the deserted island, complete with gardens, chicken pens, water storage, and a permanent fire.
All six castaways together in front of the thatched hut they built on ‘Ata, holding the homemade guitar that lifted their spirits. Through teamwork and ingenuity, the boys created a tiny communal village on the deserted island, complete with gardens, chicken pens, water storage, and a permanent fire.

With basic needs under control, the resourceful teens even found time for creativity, education, and exercise. They made chalk from seashells and used it to mark days on a makeshift calendar and to draft rudimentary maps of their island domain. To stay fit and stave off boredom, the boys constructed improvised gym equipment in the jungle. Using logs and weights carved from old canoe parts or stones, they put together a bench press and dumbbells so they could keep their muscles strong. They even cleared a flat area to serve as a badminton court for recreation, using a net woven from plant fibers. In essence, the six castaways had formed their own miniature society on ‘Ata. As Australian Captain Peter Warner later wrote in amazement, “by the time we arrived, the boys had set up a small commune with a food garden, hollowed-out tree trunks to store rainwater, a gymnasium with curious weights, a badminton court, chicken pens and a permanent fire, all from handiwork, an old knife blade and much determination.”  Far from descending into chaos, these boys worked together like a family, turning a deserted island into a livable world through cooperation, faith, and relentless hope.


Trials and Triumphs in Isolation

The boys’ 15-month exile was not without serious challenges and scares. Nature tested their resilience on multiple occasions. During one stretch, rain completely failed to fall for weeks on end. The tropical sun baked the island, drying up their water supplies and driving the castaways to the brink of severe thirst. They rationed every sip and even tried building a raft out of driftwood and palm logs in desperation, hoping to escape to civilization. However, when they launched their crude raft into the surf, it was quickly torn apart by the waves. In hindsight, this failed escape was a blessing in disguise, unbeknownst to them, the boys had misjudged their location and believed they might be near Samoa. Had they somehow gotten a raft to sea, they likely would have drifted further into the open Pacific in the wrong direction. Realizing they were truly marooned, the group doubled down on surviving where they were, praying that help would eventually come.


Another trial came in the form of a serious injury. One day, Stephen fell from a cliff while hunting seabirds and badly broke his leg. The accident could have been fatal on such a remote island, but once again the unity of the group saved the day. The other five boys carefully carried Stephen back to camp from the rugged mountainside. Using sticks, leaves, and strips of fabric, they splinted his leg as best they could and kept him comfortable. For weeks, Stephen lay recuperating, unable to contribute much labor. The others cheerfully picked up his chores, joking to lift his spirits. “Don’t worry,” one quipped to Stephen, “we’ll do your work while you lie there like King Taufa‘ahau Tupou himself!”. The improvised first aid worked, Stephen’s leg healed perfectly straight. (When examined after rescue, a doctor was astonished how well a broken bone had mended under such primitive conditions. This episode further bonded the boys, as they proved capable of caring for one another through extreme adversity.


Despite the hardships, none of the castaways lost faith or the will to live. Mano later reflected that he “lived in the hope that something would happen; that something good would come tomorrow”, which helped the long months not feel so long. They refused to give in to despair or fear. Each night, before sleeping on their beds of woven palm fronds, the boys would say a group prayer asking for deliverance. And each day, they kept themselves busy and worked as if they might be on ‘Ata for years. Unbeknownst to them, the world had not forgotten: back in Tonga, their families had long since given them up for dead, even holding funerals in their memory. But fate had one more dramatic turn in store for the resilient castaways of ‘Ata.


Rescue by Captain Peter Warner

On a clear September day in 1966, fifteen months after the boys had gone missing, a fishing vessel named Just David happened to pass near the remote island of ‘Ata. Captain Peter Warner, an Australian seafarer, was returning home from a fishing expedition in Tongan waters when he noticed something odd on the island’s cliffs: patches of burned vegetation, as if someone had been lighting signal fires on an uninhabited isle. Curious and cautious, Warner steered his boat closer. As the ship approached the island’s shoreline, the crew thought they heard shouting, but Warner initially brushed it off as noisy seabirds that swarmed around the cliffs. Suddenly, a “brown body hurtling down a cliff” came into view, diving straight into the surf. To the crew’s astonishment, a wild-looking teenage boy was swimming frantically toward them. Behind him, more figures emerged from the foliage, yelling at the top of their lungs and plunging into the water.


Warner hesitated, recalling that sometimes convicts or pirates were rumored to be marooned on such islands, and these castaways appeared unclothed, long-haired, and desperate. He even ordered his crew to ready their rifles, unsure what to expect. But when the first boy reached the side of the boat, he flashed a huge grin and called out in perfect English: “My name is Stephen. There are six of us, and we reckon we’ve been here 15 months.” The captain was astonished, the tale sounded unbelievable. One by one, the other five youths clambered aboard, all skin and bone, wearing barely more than rags and sporting thick matted hair down to their shoulders. Quickly realizing these were no prisoners but shipwreck survivors, Warner and his crew offered the boys fruit, water, and clothes. Still, the captain needed proof of their story. He radioed the names the boys gave him to authorities in Nuku’alofa, Tonga’s capital . After a tense 20-minute wait, the reply came back jubilant: “You found them! These boys have been given up for dead. Funerals have been held. If it’s them, this is a miracle!”. It was September 11, 1966 – the castaways had been saved.


The teenagers could hardly contain their joy and relief. “I can’t explain the feeling,” Mano recalled of that moment. “We were so excited. We’d survived and I was going to see my family.” When the Just David arrived back in Tonga, the reunion was overwhelming. Their families, who had believed them lost forever, erupted into celebration. The capital welcomed the boys home with feasts that stretched three days, one day of partying thrown by the families, one by the church, and one by the king and local community. Remarkably, medical examinations showed that all six young men were in good health, muscular, and sun-bronzed from their ordeal. Even Stephen’s broken leg had healed true, to the amazement of doctors.


Captain Warner became the hero of the hour in Tonga. He modestly insisted that the boys’ own ingenuity and camaraderie had saved them as much as any rescue. “They created a mini-civilization. For people so young, the wisdom was amazing,” Warner said later of the castaways’ remarkable self-reliance. Nonetheless, the Tongan authorities and families were deeply grateful to the captain. During the celebratory banquets, the boys’ relatives promised to share with Warner their secret fishing spots and techniques for Tonga’s spiny lobsters. In fact, King Taufa’ahau Tupou IV granted Peter Warner an exclusive royal concession to harvest lobsters in Tongan waters, a reward for his role in what many called a miracle rescue. Warner, who had already grown fond of the resilient teens, hired all six of them as crew hands on one of his fishing boats, giving them gainful employment after their recovery.


Aftermath: From Castaways to Legends

Back in civilization, the incredible story of the six Tongan castaways quickly spread across the world. Media outlets dubbed it a “Real-Life Lord of the Flies” but with a much more uplifting outcome than the grim fictional tale. Recognizing the public fascination, Captain Warner worked with an Australian TV network to document the boys’ experience. He arranged for Channel 7 to film reenactments of their survival on ‘Ata, even returning to the island with the boys so they could demonstrate how they lived. The resulting documentary, The Castaways, aired in October 1966, allowing audiences to witness scenes of the boys climbing cliffs, catching fish, and keeping their fire alight against all odds. Proceeds from the film rights were used in a fittingly just way, Warner used the payment to repay the fisherman from whom the boys had stolen the boat, convincing him to drop the theft charges that had briefly landed the six in hot water upon their return. Thus, the last loose end of their youthful misadventure was tied up with kindness.


In the decades after, the bond between Peter Warner and the six young men remained strong. They had been bound together by an extraordinary event, and that connection endured. Warner went on to spend many years in Tonga, even writing a memoir about his Pacific adventures titled Ocean of Light. In it, he reflects on the castaways with deep admiration. “Life has taught me a great deal,” Warner wrote, “including the lesson that you should always look for what is good and positive in people.” It’s a philosophy clearly borne out by the boys of ‘Ata, whose goodness and teamwork saw them through the darkest of times. The six friends remained close to one another as well, their shared ordeal forging an unbreakable brotherhood. Years later, one of them, Mano Totau, would say that the island taught them more about life and survival than any classroom could. “I learned how to trust myself,” Mano reflected. “It doesn’t matter who you are… if you’re in a real problem, you will eventually see what you need to do to survive.” Their story has continued to inspire: books, articles, and songs have been written about the children of ‘Ata and what their experience teaches about human resilience.


Lessons from ‘Ata: Hope and Solidarity

The saga of the Tongan castaways stands as a triumph of solidarity and the human spirit. Fifteen months of isolation could have led to despair, discord, or worse, yet these six boys did the opposite, they formed a harmonious mini-society that saved their lives. In contrast to William Golding’s dystopian Lord of the Flies, which imagined boys stranded on an island descending into savagery, the real Lord of the Flies tale showed boys uplifting each other and refusing to succumb to darkness. Their survival was not a tale of rugged individualism, but of community. They survived because they worked together selflessly, every day, sharing the labor, the hunger, the hope, and the faith. As one commentator put it, “The real Lord of the Flies is a tale of friendship and loyalty; one that illustrates how much stronger we are if we can lean on each other.”  Indeed, the key moments of their ordeal, from tending an unquenchable fire, to splinting a friend’s broken leg, to singing away fear in the dark, all highlight the power of cooperation and optimism.


Fifty-plus years later, the six Tongan castaways and their unlikely rescuer leave us an enduring lesson. In even the most extreme circumstances, kindness, ingenuity, and unity can prevail. Their story reminds us that humans are capable of great compassion and ingenuity under duress. Faced with starvation, these boys cultivated food; marooned without tools, they fashioned their own; confronted with conflict, they chose forgiveness over fighting. Their successful 15-month struggle against nature teaches that hope must never be lost “if you’re in a real problem…you will eventually see what you need to do to survive,” as Mano said. And sometimes, as in their case, surviving together also meant growing together as people. The children of ‘Ata returned to society not as wild savages, but as confident young men who had proved the value of friendship, faith, and perseverance. Their epic adventure will forever be a beacon of what true teamwork and resilience can achieve, an inspiring chapter in the annals of survival lore, and a true story with a heartwarming happy ending.



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