We pulled into the port of Savusavu on the island of Vanua Levu, tied up to a piece of dock at the Copra shed marina that was barley big enough for us and awaited the custom officials. When Fiji was under British control we imported a lot of Indians to help farm the sugar cane. Our first official onboard was a very jolly lady who cheerfully informed us that they were a nation of half castes. We were to find that the Indian influence not only brought some amazing cuisine but that their presence also means that the place is well organised and the physical size of the people is much smaller than the other parts of Polynesia that we had visited to date.
The other officials came onboard and one tried to charge us overtime. We mentioned it to the lovely Pritti, who runs the marina office, and we were pleased to be handed an envelope the next morning, ‘returning our change’. Finally free to leave the boat we had a quick wander through the town and then a delicious Indian fusion meal in the marina restaurant, where the price was very reasonable.
The next morning Water Music pulled onto the dock, followed shortly by Into the Blue and arrangements were made for dinner. In the meantime we had some payments to make to Customs which involved a trip to the Hospital for me and Andrew went in search of a cruising permit. Meeting up for lunch we found a fantastic Chinese restaurant and had a meal for about six pounds, we were liking this place more and more. We had some provisioning to do to as we were out of booze having been told that any we brought into the country would be heavily taxed. One of the local rums was 54 percent proof, I could see trouble ahead!
We had drinks on Water Music and a very jolly dinner in the marina, just as delicious as the night before. The next day was a Saturday which meant market day and off we all toddled. What an array of vegetables awaited us, I was beside myself with excitement. I might have overdone it when I pounced on a woman selling fresh coriander, screeching with delight, but after her initial fright she was soon smiling again and no doubt charging me triple the going price. We found the man selling the Cava root that we had been told we needed to take to the Island Chiefs and duly bought five roots wrapped in newspaper for our travels.
There is an American living in the bay called Curly who runs the local net, a Vietnam veteran he greets the airwaves every morning with a hearty, “Good morning Fiji.” We were told that he would give us a talk on where to go in Fiji for a small fee and so we made a plan to all see him the next day. After another visit to the Chinese we met him in the back of a closed restaurant and spent a very entertaining couple of hours listening to our new friend’s advice on where to go. He also promised us some waypoints to ease our way around the numerous reefs and strongly recommended that we were always at our destination by sunset to avoid any groundings. We had encountered reefs all over the Pacific but Fiji is a whole new level.
He also explained to us the intricacies of the Sevusevu ceremonies that we would have to partake in with some of the local chiefs as we travelled around the Islands. In order to be allowed to anchor in certain bays we had to visit the local chief of the village and make a presentation of Cava root. Curly suggested, as this was a custom that only the men participated in, that we also take some supplies for the women and children in the form of rice, flour, sweets, toothpaste and tooth brushes. It all sounded interesting and somewhat daunting, how would we know which villages we should do this in. Curly promised additional information and having purchased some of his fishing lures we retired back to the boat determined to have an early night. Best laid plans and all that, Triple Shot and Aghavni had pulled into the harbour that morning and we somehow ended up drinking far too much in the bar and falling upon a dubious hamburger for our supper.
The next day I had organised, at the recommendation of one of our neighbours, a trip floating down the river on tyres which sounded rather fun. We were picked up and taken to the start of our journey and we were each given a large black rubber tyre as our vessel. Jumping in the water I sat myself in the middle of mine and quickly realised that I should probably have had a larger one! Following Grace into the water I killed myself laughing as she grounded her bottom on a rock but then of course the same thing happened to me! We all floated along enjoying the scenery chatting away as my ring slowly deflated and my bottom grounded more and more until I was almost submerged and my bottom was rather red! As you can imagine this caused quite a bit of glee not least from my other half!
On our way home we visited a hot water pool. This was literally a muddy pond and I have to admit to getting in with some trepidation and was not at all happy letting my feet sink into god knows what. But after awhile I was rubbing the mud into my skin, although I let Bill scoop it up in his feet, I just couldn’t quite shake off the fear of what lay below the surface!
Rested after a relatively early night we set off with Grace and Stephen on Foot Rally tours! He had been put in charge of hiring us a car so that we could have a drive around the island. Returning with our vehicle he mentioned that the man at the hire car company had told him that there were certain areas that were only accessible with a four wheel drive, we did not appear to have such a vehicle.
We drove through some very pretty countryside, Grace and I looking longingly at some little villages that we would liked to have stopped in. We turned off the main road so that we could drive across the centre of the Island and soon came to an abrupt stop half way up a rocky hill. As the tyres spun in the gravel and smoke poured out into the road It became obvious we were not going to make it up the hill with all four of us in the car. So Andrew, Grace and I exited the vehicle, Stephen revved the engine and we basically pushed him up the hill, stones flying in all directions. Covered in dust we were eventually able to get back in and continued on our way, stones flying everywhere, smoke pouring out as we weaved our way up and down the hills. Grace tells me this was a typical Foot excursion, I was pleased to reach the town of Labasa and get out of the car!
Our search for a hydraulic part for Water Music’s backstay was unsuccessful, but we managed another excellent, and very cheap local Indian meal, and I bought himself a pair of socks! As we drove along I realised that the reason that the trees looked so lush was because the countryside is literally covered in bind weed. My fingers itched to start pulling it out but it would take several lifetimes to rid Fiji of that pest.
We were to travel with water music to the Northern Laos islands and agreed to leave the next day at about midday. This enabled Andrew and I to finish servicing the engine, complete our provisioning and enter a few of Curly’s waypoints, which was in itself a long job. After another meeting with Curly on Hullabaloo we had decided to take his advice and head North east away from the floating pumice that was making its way west after the volcano that had erupted in the Ocean near Tonga a few weeks before. We arrived in our first anchorage in the dark, so that was Curly’s first rule out of the window.
The next morning we set sail into a head wind which rather showed up the difference between a racing boat and a floating cottage! We put our anchor down in Viani Bay and took Grace for a remarkable snorkel and tour of the bay, leaving Stephen to suffer the man flu he had gone down with. We continued our journey weaving through the islands, religiously following curly’s waypoints, this time the country cottage with her larger engine in the lead. We continued North east, spent a night in a quiet bay and had a swim with the sick one. The weather deteriorated the next day as we pulled into Matagi island awaiting a midnight departure for the Northern Laos.
After a quick nap we left at midnight for an overnighter, wind on the nose not the most pleasant crossing. We fared better than Water Music who lost their main, which would explain why the Country cottage kept up, so that we arrived at the pass around the same time. We were tired and happy to have our waypoints as I peered over the side at the now familiar reef lining the way. Once we had our anchor down and had refuelled the troops it was time to do our first sevusevu ceremony and rather unsure of how this was going to work out, the four of us gathered our cava and domestic goods together and ventured forth into the unknown. Sarongs at the ready to cover our legs in respect, sunglasses off and no hats, as to cover one’s head whilst in a village is very disrespectful.
We needn’t have worried, we were met on the beach by the head of tourism who invited us to attend the church service that was in progress before meeting the chief. That would explain all the drums we had heard previously calling the faithful to prayer and not rounding up the warriors to eat the Long pigs! We were welcomed into the church with much smiling, the little children fascinated by us. Having listened to some beautiful singing, and several sermons that we were not able to understand, we were formally welcomed by the chiefs sister and asked to reply. Stephen, now fully recovered, did a grand job. The chief was not available to see us so we were then taken to the Chief’s sisters house to present our gifts. We all sat in a circle on the floor whilst the presentation was made and we were then given the freedom of the bay and asked if we would like to contribute to their ‘road fund’. We were told to return the next day to visit the school and take part in a sevusevu and we hurried off back to Water Music for dinner.
Arriving back in the village the next morning we wandered up to the local school bearing gifts. We were surprised to find a very well equipped school, the children immaculate in their uniform, the classrooms similar to a school in the UK, perhaps no need for the paper and pencils! We went for a walk inland but it soon became apparent that it was going to take all day to reach the other coast and we gladly hopped on the lorry that passed us returning from the thrice weekly shopping trip to the main village on the island. Bouncing along on the uneven road it was apparent why they needed to put in a new road. We had lost Andrew on the way, he had not wanted to walk with us in the sun, so we jumped off at the school in search of him. Entering the local shop, where there really wasn’t much too buy, we asked if they had seen my errant husband. Amid much laughter they told me not too worry as if we couldn’t find him there were several young single men working across the road on a building that would happily replace him. Facing the dilemma of whether to continue the search or not, we sauntered back into town to find Andrew sitting under a tree looking quite relaxed.
Having been given pancakes and lemonade we were invited back that afternoon for the sevusevu ceremony, after that is much pressing by Grace otherwise I don’t think it would have happened. We gathered in a circle on the floor of the hut of our friend the head of tourism who was awaiting the rest of his committee for a meeting. The ground cava was mixed with water in half a fishing buoy and the ceremony began. We all had to clap once and a cup in the form of half a small coconut was handed to Stephen who had to say Bula and down it in one. We then all clapped three times and the cup was handed back for a quick wash in a bowl of water before it was the next person’s turn. When it was handed to me I duly gulped down the muddy water trying not to grimace, it really tastes as it looks and is not at all pleasant. This whole process continued with some of his committee joining in as they arrived, a couple of them clearly addicted to it by the look of glee and longing in their eyes. It didn’t seem to have much effect on us, except for a numb tongue and tingling lips, hard to believe that a good night for the locals is to sit up all night on the floor with their friends. This then results in them all sleeping most of the next day, the women don’t really participate, very wise I feel. We retired to the anchorage to enjoy a more familiar type of relaxation in the form of a few bevies, so much nicer but each to their own.
We had really enjoyed our time in the village. Despite the lack of material possessions they have a great sense of community. The little children run freely around in a safe environment, something we have lost in the West. I worry that the internet will soon ruin this way of life as the youngsters want to live in a more modern world. All over the Pacific we found that they migrated to the larger cities and didn’t want to come back to live a traditional life in the islands.
The next day we headed round to the famous Bay of Islands and held our breath as we motored through the numerous islands/limestone stacks amid the beautiful turquoise waters. We spent a couple of days enjoying the snorkelling, visiting the local caves and generally chilling in this most beautiful of anchorages. We had a couple of fun dinners as well before our sailing buddies left us to pick up a friend back in Savusavu. We waved them off, surprised to see that this fine racing boat seemed also able to rear up like a bucking bronco in farewell...
We truly felt that this was the most beautiful anchorage we had ever been in so stayed a few more days before motoring around the corner to Nabavatu. We had meant to travel further South through the Islands but the weather had turned and we realised that we were running out of time as the girls were arriving in a couple of weeks so we decided to take our time sailing back. It poured with rain that night but that didn’t stop the youngsters Inga & Lasorn on the only other boat in the bay joining us for drinks and then dinner, again another enjoyable evening with folk that we would otherwise never have met.
We sailed back to Gamea dropping our anchor in the middle of bay. We really should have gone ashore with some cava but it was still bucketing down and we thought we would leave it until the morning. On awaking it was still raining and as we were almost on the bottom we decided to leave before we got stuck, however I rather felt like I was doing a runner from a restaurant without having paid my bill. Motoring around the top of Taveuni we decided to book a mooring off the Paradise resort and enjoy the use of their facilities for a couple of days. Arriving in the anchorage we found Triple shot and Aghavni and we all retired to the hotel for a very enjoyable supper.
Andrew and I booked a tour of the Island with the hotel the next day and were picked up by our two tour guides. One was the niece of the local chief and as such quite an important local in her own right, judging by the amount of greetings she received as we journeyed north and through her home village. We visited the local church, went shopping in the market and found, joy of joy, an Avocado. We even stood on the date line. We then went to a natural water slide, we were intrigued. As we climbed up the rocks the whole thing looked lethal and sliding on our bottoms on the surprisingly smooth rocks was to say the least interesting. However we declined another descent, we must be getting old. Finally we went for a very wet walk to see the waterfalls. Soaked through we had lunch huddled in the eating area of a hut and enjoyed the hotels fare.
Arriving back at the mooring we were happy to see Into The Blue who had come to have dinner with us all that evening and a very jolly evening was had. Having settled our bill the night before we set off at daylight to return to Savusavu to allow us a couple of days there to restock the boat in readiness for the girls arrival. After revisiting the vegetable market, the delicatessen and the laundrette and servicing the still shiny red generator we set off fully laden with booze and provisions. My babies were coming to visit!!
We had allowed a few days to make our way to Vuda marina, on the larger island of Viti Levu, where we were meeting Emma & Georgina. We sailed between the two islands and then down the North coast stopping at Coconut Point, Thakau Leva, Volivou Point, Vatubuli and Suaneni Bay. We encountered our first carpet of pumice which was quite a sight to behold and following Curly’s advice we turned our engine off as we went through it, clearly not a good idea to get any of it in our engine! A quick clean of the engine water filters, freezer pump and water maker filters seemed a good idea. Arriving outside Denarau we went ashore to wander around but we found it rather touristy and quickly abandoned any idea of dinner ashore.
The next morning we motored over to Vuda Marina where we had reserved a berth for a couple of days. We just about scraped over the entrance and tied up to the fuel pontoon to take on fuel. We then went to tie up in this rather unusual marina which is circular and you need the boat man to push you in and take your aft lines. It is interesting getting on and off the bow onto the land even though a plank is provided, when the tide is out it is like walking a tight rope! However it has a great atmosphere and a catch up dinner in the restaurant with Grace, Stephen & their friend Alistair proved very acceptable.
We waited for the girls to arrive the next evening with baited breath, we hadn’t seen them in almost ten months which is far too long! At last we heard the excited squealing as they negotiated the tight rope and we all threw ourselves at each other so pleased to be together again! We took them off to dinner in the marina, so much to catch up on and I feasted my eyes on them thrilled to have two whole weeks ahead of us.
We left in the morning and headed out to Musket Cove for our first stop over. Anchor down we discovered as usual several friends in the bay and happily proudly introduced everyone to our much talked about offspring. The girls had bought us/them some great blow up beds which were inflated and put in the water, Tipple Georgina’s much loved lilo was now apparently redundant and no longer needed to protect George from the sharks. Water Music were leaving for New Zealand the next day so a farewell drinks were in order, which turned into dinner ashore in the local hotel.
Plans were made to go with Aghavni to the Cloud Nine Bar anchored just of the reef for a pizza lunch the next day and we set off in the morning for some fun and frolics with all the kids. Somehow I was persuaded to jump off the roof of the bar with the girls... Anyway a very jolly day was had, our first stop a great success.
The idea was to make our way up the Yasawa group of Islands, so we headed North enjoying a lunchtime stop at Butterfly Islands, until it was time to leave and we couldn’t get the anchor up. Problem solved we continued on our journey and anchored for the night off Waya Island. Keen to show the girls some local culture we went ashore with Sago, who were also in the bay, to present our gifts to Tom the chief. This time we were taken to the man himself and again we all sat around on the floor whilst the presentation was made with much clapping of hands and nods and smiles from the chief who clearly didn’t speak much English. Happily no mud was offered for consumption. We went to see the local school which was in-fact a boarding school to cater for many of the surrounding islands. The children sang a song for us and were very keen to play football together, as always with young children language and cultural differences are not a barrier. Having purchased a woven fan from one of the local women we headed North again destination Naukaeru Island in the hope of catching some Mantra Ray’s at the cleaning station there.
We pulled into the anchorage and were quickly surrounded by loads of pumice that had floated into the bay, not a good omen for our pumps and filters but not much that we could do. Talking on the radio to Uhuru, last seen in Antigua whilst the girls were onboard, they had been waiting for five days for a ray to appear and were about to leave. Half an hour later they came on the radio to tell us there was one in the bay and we quickly launched our dinghy and followed all the local boats in. What a beautiful sight it was swimming above this enormous ray as it summersaulted again and again, huge mouth open allowing the little fish to clean its gills. And how jammy of us to get to see it as soon as we arrived! The gods were in our favour!
Naturally we were rather concerned about this prospect, it was by now fairly windy and the tide was ebbing and there were all those nasty reefs. As luck would have it there was a local boat from one of the hotels taking a very nice newly married couple out to fish and they kindly agreed to motor us in. This was very fortunate as we didn’t think we would have managed to do it under sail. Anchor safely down the three of us set about trying to find the fault, whilst a reddening George huddled under a blanket on deck after a little too much sun and not enough suncream. We checked the water baskets, changed the impeller and the thermostat but could find nothing amiss and having successfully run the engine for thirty minutes we could only assume that we had perhaps sucked a large piece of pumice over the engine water intake which had now fallen off.
Vincent however was delicious and George soon returned to a normal colour and temperature. We stayed in the Blue Lagoon for a couple of days, hiking around the island, snorkelling and enjoying a fine dinner one evening in the hotel. We had got talking to a solo English sailor by the name of Ding and he joined us on our final night there to watch the semi finals of the Rugby World Cup. The girls wrapped in old ensigns, all of our faces decorated in red and white, we sat down to watch the game in the bar surrounded by lots of Fijians. Having been knocked out themselves they were now eagerly supporting their next favourite team the All Blacks. The five of us got louder and louder as they all got quieter and quieter, our victory did not seem to please them in quite the same way it did us!
We fired up the engine the next morning and as all seemed well weighed anchor and set of to Waya Island and the delights of the Octopus Resort. Ding, who had sailed down with us, joined us for a sundowner in the bar and the girls and I quickly worked out that we could use the facilities the next day, which included the use of the spa and hence the ability to book massages! The next morning the crew of Hullabaloo embarked in the dingy and had a fabulous day lying by a pool for a change, drinking cocktails and we all had the best massage ever and a nice lunch to boot.
Our next stop was Mama Island, a tricky entrance through a tight pass. We ventured to the outside reef by dingy for some fabulous snorkelling, George bravely staying in the boat just incase we needed rescuing from a shark! In the early evening we took a BBQ tray onto the rocks and had a few sausages and watched the sun set.
The weather turned the next day and it was tricky exiting the pass with no sunlight, we were grateful to have four people on look out. The girls had loved Musket Cove so much we decided to spend another night there, visit the restaurant again and stock up on olives, as stocks were running low for George’s mid morning snacks. The girls had persuaded their father that Fiji would be a great place to go skydiving as it was so cheap, not really a good reason in my view. He had agreed and the date was set for their final day. The stress started to show itself the night before, and I wasn’t even going! Terrified of heights I felt I would probably have a heart attack long before it was time to throw myself out of the plane.
Fully strapped into their harnesses they received a five minute run through of the dos and dont’s, was that really long enough, the first daring duo left with their tandem partners. Emma and I waited to be taken down to the landing area so that we could get some pictures of them descending from the skies. Gradually the little dots got bigger and finally they both landed grinning from ear to ear, high as kites and thrilled to pieces with the themselves and rightly so, huge respect from me. Emma’s turn was next and soon the dot became another satisfied customer, all three of my crew now doing excellent impersonations of Cheshire cats!
We went back to town in search of food and alcohol, all of which were consumed with much gusto and in large quantities. Returning to the boat they suddenly all deflated like balloons after their adrenaline hit and Andrew and George were asleep by eight, Emma managing to stay up a little later to play cards with her less adventurous mother.
Their final day dawned which is always sad. We motored back across the bay to Vuda marina, had a final lunch in the restaurant and then settled down to a playoff for the family cup, between the existing holder, me, and Andrew who had never won it before. It was tense and close but the b...... won much to my horror. Then it was time for them to go and the usual tears appeared together with the pain in the upper left quadrant of my chest. However we had had a fab fab fab time with them and we would be home for Christmas in December.
We got back to to the business of getting the boat ready for the sail to New Zealand. We found some new engine batteries and installed them and the boat was booked in to be hauled and her bottom hosed, a clean bottom being required by New Zealand customs for entry. We had bought a US$50 haul voucher from the manager in Panama at the Puddle Jump talk which was a steal, so it didn’t hurt the pocket too much. Out she came and under Colin’s instruction we scraped any barnacles off we could find whilst in his usual helpful way he helped us grease the prop all the while being gently sprayed in a mixture of water, anti fouling, mud and god knows what else.
We found ourselves a local taxi man to run us around town and went to the vegetable market, the colours of which were truly spectacular. Gas filled, our new emergency bilge pump fitted, we generally readied ourselves for the big sail down to New Zealand. Over twelve hundred miles of water to cover with some of the biggest weather systems, it can be severe with massive seas. It is essential to get the correct weather window and we had all been talking ourselves into a frenzy over the last couple of months about the trip. This wasn’t helped by the sad news that the experienced skipper of a NZ boat had lost his life a few weeks before in eight metre seas that had caved in the windows of his boat. Colin had persuaded us that the longer into November we left it, the better the weather would be and so it proved. Luckily for us our insurance company would let us stay until the beginning of December if necessary, whilst others had to be gone by the beginning of November.
We went with Colin across the bay to visit the iconic castaway Island, not quite understanding why Tom Hanks hadn’t just swum across the bay to the next island, or why the local village hadn’t spotted him on the beach and come to the rescue. After two lovely evenings cooking for each other we parted ways and we headed towards Denarau as there was a potential weather window opening later in the week. We spent a last couple of nights on route just outside Musket cove enjoying a last bit of sunshine and then tied up at the marina to make our final preparations. There were several boats contemplating departure and as usual there was much discussion about the pros and cons of leaving the next day, all rather unnerving. I think it is probably better to stay away from the doom merchants at a time like that.
We had loved our time In Fiji and intend to come back next year. A mixture of culture and beautiful locations, from sitting on the floor in a chief’s hut to mooring off fabulous resorts and enjoying their first world locations, there is something for everyone. But the time had come, the weather window looked good and it was time to head towards New Zealand, over a thousand miles away and the completion of our South Pacific crossing.....
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