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Time to Pay Our Dues
Blog Location: On route to Vuda Point
Current Position: Musket Cove
Current Position: 17°46.2' S 177°11.3' E
Current Position: Musket Cove
Current Position: 17°46.2' S 177°11.3' E
We awoke early on Monday morning to begin preparations for our trip to Yadua Island. The first thing we needed to do was bottle the beer we had been brewing. We didn't want it to get all stirred up if the passage got too rolly (which of course it did). We hauled up the anchor, sounded our fog horn, and waved goodbye to the village as someone stood standing on the beach waving a huge yellow flag. I immediately put out a fishing line and as soon as we passed around the reef we caught a huge waloo. I had been fishing these exact waters in the dinghy and hadn't caught a thing and now we caught this fish big enough to feed the entire village. I looked at KT and said should we go back and give it too them ... she gave me this look like.. "I got up at 6 am to leave so we're leaving". We motored around monkey face point and once we left the shelter of the reef the wind and seas picked up a bit. We got two more HUGE strikes on our lures, one that broke a hook and another that hit the swivel and split my 400 lb monofilament in half with a huge ball of split line hanging off the lure face.
The Vatu I Ra channel is known to be rougher than most of Fiji in a South easterly blow, and it did not disappoint. We had 25 knots off the beam with full sail up.. hmm time to reef. We had to motor around the point to the anchorage on the South west side of Yadua but it was well worth the effort. The wind died in strength but was still a little gusty under the protection of the cliffs. We met the village representative and the caretaker for the lizards home. The island feels like a scene from Jurassic park and is the only place in the world where the green nested iguana lives. After we finalized our formalities with the two locals we invited them for a cold drink. We also offered them some of our huge fish which they gladly accepted. We also gave them some Kava for our village sevusevu because we weren't planning on going to the village. We tried to talk in our limited Fijian and they were happy to find out we came from Naiqiri village, it turns out their minister was last positioned in Naviqiri only two years before. We asked if it was possible to get permission to visit the iguana island but the caretaker, who was quite young, said no. "Oh well, no Iguana soup" laughed KT .. luckily they both 'got' the joke and laughed along.
We spent the next morning hiking around the island and enjoying the great view back at the mainland and over the reefs surrounding the island. It was good exercise and the views were well worth the effort. We also spent some time trying to get over to a great sand beach that the locals had described on the other side of the anchorage. When we finally got there we were both amazed at the quantity of plastic that was covering the beach. Renaissance 2000 a boat that came in later said they had carried their trash for a couple of weeks and finally dropped it off in a trash can near the government buildings at Coconut Point, only to watch the same bag go floating by later as the sun was starting to set.
I spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning the bottom in anticipation of the motoring we would be doing over the next couple of days. It was a mess, Naviqiri is a very murky bay with a greenish water, I didn't realize how much stuff had attached itself to the hull. I also figured that anything I removed then, wouldn't have to be removed once I got to the boat yard. It was the hardest scrubbing I've had to do, but after almost three years on one paint job I guess I had to pay my dues. We had an impromptu cockpit party after the boat Wandering Star came over to ask if we were "the Billabong" mentioned on Ascension's Website. We laughed at all the friends we have in common, I guess they spent an extra season in Mexico so they were a year behind the friends we knew.
The next day we motored the entire way across to the Nananu-i-ra pass, in company with another boat that was following exactly in our tracks. We anchored in a protected bay and moved across to the other side when the dark clouds and wind start appearing. We caught up with Indra for drinks and heard about their great trip to Rabi Island, although it was to Catherine bay instead of Alberts cove where we had visited last year. The next morning we needed to start early to make the 55 miles before dark. I got up, got everything ready and went to start the engine.. nothing. We have NEVER had a problem with the engine since we've left.. hmm.. Seems like a fuel problem (can't be much else on a diesel) so I started right at base of the engine and noticed that the kill button return spring had broken, about a 30 second fix. I was very happy it didn't break while we were going through a tight pass or really needed the engine. We motored all the way to Latouka and anchored in a very muddy bay just north of the town. It was such a wet mud bottom the hook took 10 to 1 scope to "set".
The next day we started early so that we could get to Sawini bay and I could get a ride to the marina to clarify an email about our haul-out that afternoon. It was a crazy bus ride and the guy forgot to tell us which stop to get off at, even though we explicitly told him where we were going. The marina would be a tight fit but there were some catamarans there so we would easily fit. I got a quick ride back to the boat and got her ready for the boatyard. Right after we left the anchorage the wind picked up to 20+ knots right on the nose. We entered the narrowest channel we've ever been in with the swell behind us. KT put the boat in neutral and we were still doing 4 knots right past a sign that said max speed 3 knots.. oh well. We passed the yacht club bar and I could have had someone hand me a beer from the porch we felt so close. KT did a great job and was very glad to get over her fear of being close to other things while driving the boat. By 3:30 we were on the hard and ready to begin our bottom job.
It took us a week but we got it done. It was probably the easiest haul out we've had because I took advantage of the fact I didn't have any 220 volt tools, to hire the Fijian labor. They wanted $f10 to rent the sander or $f16 to have some one do the work, that comes to paying $3.60 US to have someone else get dirty. Of course the labor isn't exactly first rate so I did rent the sander for a couple of hours to get it the way I wanted. She turned out great and I even splurged and had the topsides polished. Billabong was looking in top shape once again.
In the boatyard, we made friends with an older couple from Canada. Ralph and Ruth, who built their own boat. They had been cruising in the early 70's with their kids and built their second boat exactly opposite of what their first boat was. This one is 60 feet long and weighs almost half as much as Billabong and has a very unique three masted rig that Ralph had built himself. Each mast weighs only 130 pounds and even though she is long and narrow she never heels more than 15 degrees. We went down below and KT said that their saloon was bigger than the living room in her old apartment. It's a pretty amazing boat that is now 30 years old. They had hit a slightly submerged drift net that tore off their skeg, strut and bent their prop shaft so they couldn't motor. Ralph was rebuilding everything and fixing up the paint where the boat who tried to help them crashed into the side. Ralph was quite the character talking about the old days of sailing, cruising with kids and his working life. Turns out Ralph used to be the European VP of Digital and had spent a lot of time in the town of Maynard, the next town over from where I grew up!! Small World. It turns out that ALL of their kids are out cruising now with their kids. I guess life as a cruising kid can't be all that bad. Ruth was a sweetheart and gave KT some canning jars after KT gave Ruth an online cookbook series she has.
We caught up with some old friends and made some new ones. All in all it wasn't that bad of a week in the yard.. the only thing that sucked was the cockroaches, they were everywhere. We were sitting in the cockpit enjoying a post work beer when five landed right in the cockpit. We both threw down our drinks and started chasing the little buggers. After we were sure we got them all we relaxed again with our beers only to find out one had flown straight into mine.. luckily I saw the roach prior to taking in a big gulp!
On Saturday, we took a trip into Nadi with Cookie Cutter, some Canadian cruisers we had met last year. We had a great time catching up with them earlier in the week and they invited us to Nadi with them in their rented car. They are psychotic shell collectors and we got to see the rare shell collection at Jack's (a souvenir shop) some costing over $700. Yikes! We had a nice dinner on Denerau island, where a lot of the resorts are.. It was pretty funny to watch as the bartender was trying to make Peter a two person cocktail for $f20. First he fills the glasses with ice, Peter says "a little easy on the ice their eh buddy." and then Peter pours some out. The guy says "I make the drinks" and fills it back up to the top. He starts pouring the booze in the blender and runs out so he has to go in back to get some more, Peter immediately starts removing ice cubes from the glasses. It was too funny to watch. It got even funnier when the guy returned, finished making the drink in the blender and then poured ALL the ice out before added the mixed drink. He was just chilling the glasses. Peters face was pretty funny once he realized the confusion.
We bumped into more old friends and decided it was time to head out to Musket Cove to enjoy the water and sunshine before we leave Fiji for Vanuatu. What a different world it is out here. Full of cruising boats and resorts with no villages. It's a nice change but I can't imagine spending the entire season here and saying you've visited Fiji. Oh well, right now I'll enjoy the amenities, the cheap drinks and the cruising community, knowing what Fiji is really all about and glad that I got to enjoy all my time here!!
Still in Naviqiri Village
Blog Location: Naviqiri Village
Current Location: Musket Cove
Current Position: 17°46.2' S 177°11.3' E
After the paw-paw bread disaster we decide to bring the village kids out to the boat. I shuttled people back and forth and we ended up with 30 people on board. Everyone wanted a photo taken and loved checking out the boat. They especially loved our electronic zapping fly swatter that says do not touch right on it. Of course they loved the spark and zap it gave them. One little kid Tui was< up on deck while I was explaining things below. We was talking in Fijian, "Chris I can hear you but I don't know where you are!!" I got a couple of good photos, one of all the kids on the right side of the boat, and then the other of the boat while they were still sitting; we must have been out of the water by a good foot on the other side.
Our second week started out rather mellow and slow; Sunday we played cards, a Fijian game called trump, where we tried desperately to throw the cards down with the same oomph as they did. It was amazing to watch, they would slam the card down with almost a whip cracking sound. They laughed hysterically as we tried, and failed to copy them. KT made some banana bread with chocolate chips which the villagers loved. We "had" to leave the village so the kids would go to church, so we went to visit a bush house where the family raised goats. It was rather funny to arrive and have them running a little generator so that the kids could watch a movie. They were having a great time and we thought they understood everything until KT described exactly what was happening.. oh.. they said. Now I understand why Stephen Segal is the most famous actor in Fiji, simple dialog with lots of actions that they can understand. It was a rather fun visit as he explained that he trained the goats when they were young to return to the pen. He takes them up into the hills and then back again, I guess after a couple of days they just keep returning home at the same time. It was kind of funny to watch them come running down the hill to home, only to be sold to the Indians for food later in life.
We spent some time cleaning the boat and working on the computer, but we would always return to the village in the afternoon to play with the kids. We had Sera and Freddy to the boat for dinner again, I guess they've been to a couple of boats now so they weren't as impressed this time. KT made them pizza which they had never had before, can you imagine a world without pizza? We went on a couple of long walks and every time we saw someone they said, "where are you going?". "Just walking" we would say as they gave us a VERY funny look. If we said we were "going moce" (sleep) they wouldn't have had a second thought because THAT was something they could understand. I finally explained that we don't get to walk very far on our small boat so we enjoy it when we get the chance.. they still thought we were crazy!!
One night after a busy afternoon of playing with the kids and a drink of tea afterwards we headed down to the dinghy to go to the boat. Of course we had a bunch of people follow us to wave goodbye as we headed out into the moonlit night to find Billabong. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a black and white striped thing on the engine .. and it began to move. Yikes, holy cow.. what the.. it was a sea snake, one of the most poisonous snakes. We jumped around trying to get it overboard, flailing violently and forgetting about steering the dinghy. We made a couple of circles, headed right towards the reef, and pretty much made fools of ourselves to anyone who didn't know what was happening on shore. We finally got it overboard and we certainly deserved a good beer after that adventure. The good thing about a sea snake is they can really bite you because their jaws aren't big enough. I guess you can get bit in the skin flap between your fingers and toes so I pretty much fought it with a palmed hands. It was funny in hind sight, it's been rather cold in Fiji and I guess it was warming itself on the engine for a while.
The next day we explained to everyone what had happened and after a big sigh of relief, they laughed at us. We invited Aquila and Boxing Grandma to the boat for a breakfast of coffee cake and tea. It was rather funny to watch grandma run to her house, change her clothes and fix her hair, just for a visit in the boat. Not for us mind you, the boat!! She had never seen one before. After a tour and breakfast she said that we could go back and let her sleep there all day and she would be happy.
We spent the rest of the week learning more card games, "5-3-2" and "last card", and ended up giving them a couple of decks, theirs were like cloth they were so warn out. On Saturday the men all went out to the bush to harvest food for Sunday. KT and I played some more cards and I said that I thought we should learn how to make a basket. They use a basket woven from palm leaves to carry the crops back from the bush. KT spent about 45 minutes making a small one while the ladies all called her smart.. "some Fijian ladies don't know how to weave like you" they said. We also spent some time handing out some of the 200 no bake cookies she made to all the villagers, some of them loved them but some of the older ones thought they were too sweet.
The rugby star Oreise came back with his girl friend and was in a much more relaxed mood. You know you've been in a village too long when you end up in bed with the chief. It started out as a simple walk down to "check the boat" our signal that we are going to the beach to take a pee. Of course a couple of kids followed and I had to tell them to wait as I did my business. While they were waiting they heard a woman screaming from the chiefs house... "Chris Chris come quick" they said. I ran to the house as the kids stayed outside. The Chief's daughter was yelling at me to help her. The chief is bed ridden and had fallen over part way out of bed and she couldn't get him back up. Oh yeah and he was pretty much naked! She was pounding on his back and hysterically crying, all while trying to rewrap his sulu. So I leaped over the bed and grabbed him around the chest I didn't realize before exactly how big and heavy he was. I tried pulling him back but he wouldn't move. He was moaning incoherently and was completely dead weight. Finally I pulled with all my might and he flopped backwards onto the bed. She was still screaming and hitting his chest, so I ran out and grabbed one of the chief's helpers and he started pounding on his back as well. Turns out he was taking a pee into the bed pan and started having a heart attack. yikes!! Well word got out and everyone came over .. "Chris you saved the chief", Yet another story the can tell about those crazy white people from the boat Billabong.
On Sunday we brought in coffee cake for breakfast and some more cookies, they made us Fijian pancakes which are a lot like donuts without the hole. We had more people out to the boat; first Oresee, his uncle/dad, and friends came out. They loved hanging out of the boat and wanted their picture taken with their island in the background. They really wanted to see the video of us swimming with the whales and the sharks. I think we gained some new found respect after they saw that, Then we had the "ladies" out to the boat. They were much more excited and required two trips to get them all on board. They laughed and giggled as we gave them lemonade and started asking us all sorts of questions and wanted to see pictures of our family. Then they asked what we were going to do about a family. I was standing down below and I said "we're just practicing" hoping it would blow over.. I have never heard them laugh sooo hard.
We walked around the village saying goodbye to people that weren't hanging out by the shade building, and handed out more cookies. Everyone asked when we would be back, it was hard to explain that we didn't know. Maybe we would return with our family to see everyone grown up. They had a goodbye grog party for us and people gave us gifts of paw-paw, coconuts, bananas and pineapple for "our trip". We tried to explain that it was just a day sail but we excepted their gifts whole heartedly. We said goodbye to everyone but it was especially hard to say goodbye to Sera, Freddy, and Asinaca who walked us down to the beach that night. We returned to Billabong,
completely satisfied by our visit and looking forward to our eventual return.
Current Location: Musket Cove
Current Position: 17°46.2' S 177°11.3' E
After the paw-paw bread disaster we decide to bring the village kids out to the boat. I shuttled people back and forth and we ended up with 30 people on board. Everyone wanted a photo taken and loved checking out the boat. They especially loved our electronic zapping fly swatter that says do not touch right on it. Of course they loved the spark and zap it gave them. One little kid Tui was< up on deck while I was explaining things below. We was talking in Fijian, "Chris I can hear you but I don't know where you are!!" I got a couple of good photos, one of all the kids on the right side of the boat, and then the other of the boat while they were still sitting; we must have been out of the water by a good foot on the other side.
Our second week started out rather mellow and slow; Sunday we played cards, a Fijian game called trump, where we tried desperately to throw the cards down with the same oomph as they did. It was amazing to watch, they would slam the card down with almost a whip cracking sound. They laughed hysterically as we tried, and failed to copy them. KT made some banana bread with chocolate chips which the villagers loved. We "had" to leave the village so the kids would go to church, so we went to visit a bush house where the family raised goats. It was rather funny to arrive and have them running a little generator so that the kids could watch a movie. They were having a great time and we thought they understood everything until KT described exactly what was happening.. oh.. they said. Now I understand why Stephen Segal is the most famous actor in Fiji, simple dialog with lots of actions that they can understand. It was a rather fun visit as he explained that he trained the goats when they were young to return to the pen. He takes them up into the hills and then back again, I guess after a couple of days they just keep returning home at the same time. It was kind of funny to watch them come running down the hill to home, only to be sold to the Indians for food later in life.
We spent some time cleaning the boat and working on the computer, but we would always return to the village in the afternoon to play with the kids. We had Sera and Freddy to the boat for dinner again, I guess they've been to a couple of boats now so they weren't as impressed this time. KT made them pizza which they had never had before, can you imagine a world without pizza? We went on a couple of long walks and every time we saw someone they said, "where are you going?". "Just walking" we would say as they gave us a VERY funny look. If we said we were "going moce" (sleep) they wouldn't have had a second thought because THAT was something they could understand. I finally explained that we don't get to walk very far on our small boat so we enjoy it when we get the chance.. they still thought we were crazy!!
One night after a busy afternoon of playing with the kids and a drink of tea afterwards we headed down to the dinghy to go to the boat. Of course we had a bunch of people follow us to wave goodbye as we headed out into the moonlit night to find Billabong. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a black and white striped thing on the engine .. and it began to move. Yikes, holy cow.. what the.. it was a sea snake, one of the most poisonous snakes. We jumped around trying to get it overboard, flailing violently and forgetting about steering the dinghy. We made a couple of circles, headed right towards the reef, and pretty much made fools of ourselves to anyone who didn't know what was happening on shore. We finally got it overboard and we certainly deserved a good beer after that adventure. The good thing about a sea snake is they can really bite you because their jaws aren't big enough. I guess you can get bit in the skin flap between your fingers and toes so I pretty much fought it with a palmed hands. It was funny in hind sight, it's been rather cold in Fiji and I guess it was warming itself on the engine for a while.
The next day we explained to everyone what had happened and after a big sigh of relief, they laughed at us. We invited Aquila and Boxing Grandma to the boat for a breakfast of coffee cake and tea. It was rather funny to watch grandma run to her house, change her clothes and fix her hair, just for a visit in the boat. Not for us mind you, the boat!! She had never seen one before. After a tour and breakfast she said that we could go back and let her sleep there all day and she would be happy.
We spent the rest of the week learning more card games, "5-3-2" and "last card", and ended up giving them a couple of decks, theirs were like cloth they were so warn out. On Saturday the men all went out to the bush to harvest food for Sunday. KT and I played some more cards and I said that I thought we should learn how to make a basket. They use a basket woven from palm leaves to carry the crops back from the bush. KT spent about 45 minutes making a small one while the ladies all called her smart.. "some Fijian ladies don't know how to weave like you" they said. We also spent some time handing out some of the 200 no bake cookies she made to all the villagers, some of them loved them but some of the older ones thought they were too sweet.
The rugby star Oreise came back with his girl friend and was in a much more relaxed mood. You know you've been in a village too long when you end up in bed with the chief. It started out as a simple walk down to "check the boat" our signal that we are going to the beach to take a pee. Of course a couple of kids followed and I had to tell them to wait as I did my business. While they were waiting they heard a woman screaming from the chiefs house... "Chris Chris come quick" they said. I ran to the house as the kids stayed outside. The Chief's daughter was yelling at me to help her. The chief is bed ridden and had fallen over part way out of bed and she couldn't get him back up. Oh yeah and he was pretty much naked! She was pounding on his back and hysterically crying, all while trying to rewrap his sulu. So I leaped over the bed and grabbed him around the chest I didn't realize before exactly how big and heavy he was. I tried pulling him back but he wouldn't move. He was moaning incoherently and was completely dead weight. Finally I pulled with all my might and he flopped backwards onto the bed. She was still screaming and hitting his chest, so I ran out and grabbed one of the chief's helpers and he started pounding on his back as well. Turns out he was taking a pee into the bed pan and started having a heart attack. yikes!! Well word got out and everyone came over .. "Chris you saved the chief", Yet another story the can tell about those crazy white people from the boat Billabong.
On Sunday we brought in coffee cake for breakfast and some more cookies, they made us Fijian pancakes which are a lot like donuts without the hole. We had more people out to the boat; first Oresee, his uncle/dad, and friends came out. They loved hanging out of the boat and wanted their picture taken with their island in the background. They really wanted to see the video of us swimming with the whales and the sharks. I think we gained some new found respect after they saw that, Then we had the "ladies" out to the boat. They were much more excited and required two trips to get them all on board. They laughed and giggled as we gave them lemonade and started asking us all sorts of questions and wanted to see pictures of our family. Then they asked what we were going to do about a family. I was standing down below and I said "we're just practicing" hoping it would blow over.. I have never heard them laugh sooo hard.
We walked around the village saying goodbye to people that weren't hanging out by the shade building, and handed out more cookies. Everyone asked when we would be back, it was hard to explain that we didn't know. Maybe we would return with our family to see everyone grown up. They had a goodbye grog party for us and people gave us gifts of paw-paw, coconuts, bananas and pineapple for "our trip". We tried to explain that it was just a day sail but we excepted their gifts whole heartedly. We said goodbye to everyone but it was especially hard to say goodbye to Sera, Freddy, and Asinaca who walked us down to the beach that night. We returned to Billabong,
completely satisfied by our visit and looking forward to our eventual return.
Return to Naviqiri Village
Current Location: Naviqiri Village
Current Position: 16°39.4' S 178°35.7' E
Current Position: 16°39.4' S 178°35.7' E
One of the main reasons we came back to Fiji was our love of the people, their smiles, laughter and good nature is thoroughly infectious. Our arrival in Savusavu felt like a homecoming with greetings from our old local friends and cruisers alike. The most amazing thing is how all the locals remember our names. We were constantly surprised by the "Bula Chris Bula KT" calls as we walked around town, even the woman at the local vegi market remembered KT. We received a couple of VHF calls from local cruiser residents who have started businesses there, "Welcome Home", and it felt like it.
We spent the first couple of days recovering , sharing war stories over happy hour and cleaning up the wet gear around the boat. Bobulona was getting ready to head north to Hawaii (via Samoa) so I spent a couple of days setting him up with some fishing gear. He really wants to catch a Yellowfin Tuna and I've got enough gear to outfit a fleet a fishing vessels so why not. KT and I were both amazed at the fresh vegetables at the market, yum! After dealing with air freighted or even worse ocean shipped veggies in Majuro, the fresh from the earth kind was much appreciated. Little things like mint and cilantro, fresh with root stocks still on them. KT even tried to get some to grow so she could add them to the basil she actually kept alive during the trip south.
She was excited to start testing the Solar oven that Red gave us to give to a local Fijian village. It only took a day to get it out and cranking and soon we had fish, bread, eggplant and roasted chicken all cooked to perfection in the solar oven. It was a little difficult to get the position right in the tidal river of Savusavu but it worked great when we moved out to the point for the weekend to relax and enjoy the nice breeze. KT even saw a Lion fish while she was snorkeling.
We headed back to town, because we could, for more fresh veggies and a nice sushi dinner to say goodbye to Bobulona. We spent the rest of the week enjoying the laid back atmosphere of Savusavu, it's fresh food and cheap beer during happy hour. It's a nice balance between small town atmosphere blended with the cruisers, not too much of either and if you get sick of one you can hang out with the other. KT cooked more things in the solar oven and, hold the phone, the cockpit cushions were made. It's kind of been a standing joke between KT and I because she has been threatening to sew them since we left. They turned out great but we both realized that the light gray color would show every piece of dirt brought aboard Billabong. So we had a happy hour complete with Ginger snap cookies and invited Indra over so we could get them dirty and get over the fact that they wouldn't stay clean forever.
KT joined a couple of our cruising friends another session of Cooking with Luci and made an amazing Tamarind Chutney before we headed out the point for the long weekend. I spent most of my time working of some fishing designs so that I could get Curly (the local rascal who helps the cruisers) to help me test them. I wrote up some "spec sheets" for all the things we've been using successfully but Curly has been out of town for weeks buying a new boat (to him), so I'm not sure it will happen. We returned to Savusavu which was filling up VERY quickly and decided it was time to head out of town. We spent a couple of days getting some supplies for the solar oven (that we could leave with the villagers), checked out and headed out to the point for a quick stop so we could leave early in the morning.
We were both very excited to see our old friends at Naviqiri Village. We had a nice beam reach (hey after 1700 miles of beating we weren't sure we remembered) down to the pass and a reef sheltered sail around the point before the wind died. We fished and caught a large barracuda, which in hind site we should have kept but threw back, and watched as a large shark stalked our lures for about half an hour. We had a choice, we could anchor and get up early in the morning to continue our trip or we could keep going (using our GPS track from last year) and arrive at the village at 10pm. We decided to keep going so that we could surprise everyone the next morning. We anchored just as the almost full moon rose above the clouds and went straight to bed so we would be ready for our exciting day in the village.
We walked in early and went to Sera and Freddy's house only to find out they were both gone!!!! Sera's now baby sits for a school teacher and Freddy was in Nadi. Grandma was there and she was soooo excited to see us. Of course she can't speak a lick of English so she just sat there smiling, laughing, hugging and punching us.. and boy that woman can hit!! Luckily we were greeted by Aquila, Freddy's nephew who spoke fluent English who could explain where everyone was. We walked around the village saying hi, watching in amazement at the expressions on their faces. "Chris, KT you came back like you promised".. it was kind of funny to watch.
Right away they would ask, "Where's Julie and Karl" like all Amercans who have ever been together have to stay together. Of course the kids were the most fun, some of them having grown significantly in the eight months since we last saw them. We said "qito qito" "play play" and they all ran up to the playing field. I pulled out a bunch of Frisbees and threw them as they went screaming across trying to catch them. One kid even grabbed one, held it to the sky and then kissed it and came running back with the biggest smile I've ever seen. KT got out some jump ropes and we all caught up by playing and laughing. Sera arrived after work and invited us back to her place for tea and to explain the big happenings.
Sera said she has a child now named Peter, and that he was white like us. Whoa this was HUGE news because Sera and Freddy have been trying to have a baby for a while. Then it came out that she had adopted the baby and then later that she gets paid $F40 (60 American cents an hour) a week to watch him and cook meals for some local teachers. We knew something was up when KT asked how the parents learned to speak Fijian (being White and all), and Sera gave KT a strange look, as if duh of course they speak Fijian! Anyway we were told we would be able to meet him the next day at the Big party. It turns out Freddy's son (that we didn't even know about last year) was on the Fijian Sevens Rugby team that won the world championships in London recently. This was HUGE!!
Fijian's love rugby and to have a world champion in their presence was beyond comprehension. The plan was to go in and help prepare the feast the next morning, maybe even in the solar oven, and then await their arrival around 1 o'clock the next day. When we went in there wasn't much cooking going on. We sat around waiting and willing to help but the only thing happening was they cooked the Cassava, in the biggest pot I have ever seen. We spent the afternoon killing time by making balloon animals with the kids, which was pretty funny because we didn't have a clue what we were doing.
Heck we still don't. This was going to be a HUGE party, they built a shade structure and decorated it with fresh greens and flowers. This is when we started to realize that even though we are speaking the same language there was a lot that was lost in the translation. Things that we thought we clear weren't.
First Peter was pretty dark (certainly not white) and both his parents were about as Fijian as you can get. Then Freddy and his son arrived at around 4:30 with a bunch of other people. We were told to wait in the ceremonial building as we watched, not having a clue what was going on. First, all the new guests went to another building and then came over to sit with us in a VERY structured way. There was an older couple, Freddy and then his son Oressi. At first the village women (and KT) presented the older man with lots of mats and oils, all laid out in front of him. One of the village elders spoke and the older couple and Freddy were all in tears, the older gentlemen saying "Vinaka" (thank you) frequently. This went on for about five minutes. I thought that this must be someone returning after losing his wife and the village was welcoming him back. Then he gave a speech and Freddy and the other lady were crying hysterically. What on earth is going on? Then Freddy's son was welcomed to a very special mat where Boxing Grandma was sitting. As she went to sit down grandma grabbed KT and pulled her to the mat so that it was this rugby world champ, grandma and KT sitting at the head of the ceremonies. KT kept looking at me like help .. and I was thinking she was going to be presented as a sacrificial virgin to the champion. Anyway there was more crying, grandma was having a fit, hugging Freddy's son and the two Ki-palagi (white) people were confused beyond belief. I think the son was scared out of his wits as well, as he kept chain smoking any chance he got, the weird thing was Freddy or his son didn't say anything.
So this is where we figure out that they do things a little differently in Fiji. Turns out that the older
couple was Freddy's sister and her husband and that they had raised Freddy's son and another daughter.. yikes. It also began our investigation into the strange nature of brothers and sisters. Turns out they also call anyone who is actually a first cousin, brother and sisters and people who share the same parents are "real" brothers/sisters. This kind of threw a wrench into everything we thought we knew about all the relationships of the village, but we are slowly clarifying the "real" parts so we can get it all organized in our minds again. Now that I had a slightly clearer explanation for all the emotions I could relax and enjoy the kava and watch the recorded rugby games on the DVD player. Freddy came over and gave me a huge hugs and kept saying "Chris Chris" as he gave me huge hugs and held my hand. It turns out that all the gifts were actually for Freddy's son but they are passed/received through an intermediary.
couple was Freddy's sister and her husband and that they had raised Freddy's son and another daughter.. yikes. It also began our investigation into the strange nature of brothers and sisters. Turns out they also call anyone who is actually a first cousin, brother and sisters and people who share the same parents are "real" brothers/sisters. This kind of threw a wrench into everything we thought we knew about all the relationships of the village, but we are slowly clarifying the "real" parts so we can get it all organized in our minds again. Now that I had a slightly clearer explanation for all the emotions I could relax and enjoy the kava and watch the recorded rugby games on the DVD player. Freddy came over and gave me a huge hugs and kept saying "Chris Chris" as he gave me huge hugs and held my hand. It turns out that all the gifts were actually for Freddy's son but they are passed/received through an intermediary.
The next day, of course the sun didn't cooperate so KT cooked the chicken and fish curry on board, made some Pawpaw (papaya) cake and we went in for Church. The party was after church and it was a huge feast where the table of honor rotated as people finished their food. KT got a couple of complements on her Ki-palagi food which was a little too soupy to be eaten by hand but that didn't keep them from trying. We also found out that Freddy's son was going to be leaving that afternoon instead of spending the week, another hiccup in our communication. I felt bad because I thought we would have some time to get to know him; we did have a good time hanging out with his sister. KT also noticed a VERY strange behavior between certain people, especially considering the lack of deodorant; they place their faces next to each other like a kiss to the cheek and then sniff violently. Hmmm!!! We spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing and sharing some more Talanoa (stories) and Kava (grog). When the generator came on KT got out our DVD and played their part for the village. They laughed and giggled and felt like movie stars as we explained that all our friends and family in America watch them on TV. They watched it three times and all wanted copies.
We spent the rest of the week hanging out in the village and playing with the kids when they got home from school. Luckily we only played rugby a couple of times, most of the village men have gone to Labasa to cut sugar cane, so that I've had a chance to recover between games. We went to the school on Friday to hang out with Sera, Peter, Freddy and the parents. We spent the rest of the afternoon hanging out with the kids and teaching them how to play a modified version of Ultimate Frisbee. It was rather amusing to watch the kids take advantage of the rules as we made them up. First we thought since they're not really good at throwing well or catching we'll make the rule the first person who gets to the Frisbee gets to keep it. Well the boys treated it like rugby and tackled the girls or pushed them out of the way, so we had to change that. Then the boys would throw the Frisbee way down the field and run after it to get across the line, and most wouldn't even catch it in the end zone. So we added a couple rules and then all had a blast. The girls were much better because the basic netball, which they play a lot, one girl even asked KT if she could "pivot". In the end we came up with a good set of rules that worked and everyone enjoyed. Even some of the mothers came out to play, maybe it'll be the new village sport.
On Saturday KT planned a cooking class to teach the locals how to make banana bread, pawpaw cake and use the solar oven. About 20 people showed up, surrounding KT as she explained everything, they didn't even know about vanilla or cinnamon. She modified the recipes to have oil instead of butter and got rid of some of the extra stuff, and even showed them how they could make zest with a coconut grater. Of course it was overcast so we had tocome up with an oven. We thought a pot within a pot would work good, especially if we put some fire on the top (they use aluminum pots) and raised the bottom with some tin tuna cans. Well I think it would have worked but there were way to many cooks in the kitchen. They kept opening it and looking, then burning the top with too much heat, then removing the outer pan and burning the bottom. Oh well they enjoyed the bread and even liked the burnt parts. The pawpaw cake was even more of a disaster because they completely took over, doing it the Fijian way, without two pots using only ash to insulate the pot from the fire.. it was even more burnt than the banana bread. Oh well it didn't stop a couple of ladies from trying to make it on their own the next day.
The first visit made us feel like what it must be like to be a rock star; with all the attention. The second visit has been even more amazing.. The people of the village who knew us from our first trip are amazed to see us again, some not believing their own eyes. The people who had only heard stories of us, greet us with open arms and are in awe that they get a chance to meet us. It's nice because we've been treated like one of the family, a little less focused on and able to relax and blend in a little more. We just hope we've been able to show them how special they are.
Passage Journal: Marshall Islands to Fiji
May 14 - May 30 2006
Current Location: Arrived Savusavu, Fiji
(from Majuro, Marshall Islands)
Current Position: 16°46.6' S 179°19.9' E
Next Destination: Undecided (somewhere in Fiji)
Miles Traveled: 1787.3
Miles to Go: 0
Yipeee! We’ve done it, finally arrived in Savusavu, and oh what a blessing it is. We officially pulled into the anchorage on Wednesday, May 31 around 7a.m. It’s our first time returning to a location already visited, and it feels a bit like returning home. After nine months visiting flat atolls, the surrounding luscious green mountains of Fiji are breathtaking. And we feel we’ve earned the peaceful waters of the anchorage, as less than twelve hours after writing our previous BLOG (posted 5/25) all hell broke loose.
As the sun was setting on the evening of the 25th, we could see we were surrounded by a number of thunderheads, but nothing so dense to be concerned about. The first squall hit around 7:30pm, marking the beginning of our most exhausting night in our passage-making history. Squall after squall hit, pounding us with enough rain to solve most of the world’s drought problems and with winds between 30-38 knots. They continued the entire night. Twelve hours straight. Hitting so close together that we never got more than 20-30 minutes rest. Our definition of a “squall” was redefined. Once the word “squall” would conjure up images of a large thunderhead throwing down some rain and wind for about 5-15 minutes before passing by … a bit inconvenient, but short-lived. Not this night. These squalls lasted from 30-90 minutes. They didn’t just throw down some rain; they pelted us with water bullets. The wind howled down at us and the waves tossed us around like rag-dolls. It was truly ugly.
Neither of us slept much, if at all, and when dawn finally broke we anxiously looked around hoping to see some break in the system. Depression hit fast when all that surrounded us was a thick layer of clouds and thunderheads. During one of the “calm” periods Chris did a quick deck check and found our main sheet block shackle had worked itself completely out of the threads, the only thing holding it was the pressure of the sail on the line. If it had come loose during a big squall we would have had some serious damage. That morning I talked to a single-hander, Russ (on Hygeleg) on the SSB Radio. He along with Indra and Navire, were a few hundred miles ahead of us. They were all hove-to waiting for a system even further South to break up before continuing on. Russ confirmed that he and Indra had also gone through the system we were currently in, and it had lasted about two days. Not what I was hoping to hear. As the SSB radio net was a twice a day event, Chris later asked me (as I was the one who had been listening in everyday), “How the hell could you have missed them talking about this kind of weather for two days straight?”. In my defense, I didn’t have a copy on Indra or Navire. Hygeleg complained of squalls in addition to a bunch of stuff on his boat breaking; so when he talked about how exhausted he was I attributed it to everything, including him being a single-hander, not just bad weather. I figured, okay so we might hit a few squalls … never had I imagined this! Had I picked up on it, we could’ve pulled into Funafuti, Tuvalu and waited for better weather, but now it was too late, we were going to have to ride it out. What’s even worse is the system had further developed by the time we had arrived. Needless to say, from then on I was much more attentive when I listened to the net.
That day we experienced less squalls, but the winds had picked up to a constant 20-25 knots and the seas were building and extremely lumpy. It was like being in a washing machine. The worst part was that we still had to run close-hauled in order to keep our Easting and not loose our rhumbline heading. The day was dark, dreary, and wet; never did any blue sky seem to poke through. The squalls that did hit were just as intense as the night before, but now we seemed to have a system down and so they didn’t seem quite as bad. Around 4pm I was getting hopefully that perhaps the night wouldn’t be so awful. It wasn’t the most comfortable ride, but with fewer squalls we could at least get a bit of rest. After two meals of granola bars I was thinking something warm and soupy would be comforting and a bit more nutritious. It was still too rough to cook anything ‘real’, so cup-o-soup was on my mind when the next squall hit. The squall packed a punch, making it too rough even for cup-o-soup. I kept waiting for it to end, but alas it was there for the long-haul and I conceded once again to another granola bar meal.
When things are bad, it’s good to remember they could always get worse. And unfortunately in this case they did. Now we weren’t just surrounded by squalls with painful rain and high winds. Now we had lightning. The worst thunder and lightning either of us has ever seen in our lives. LIVES – not just since cruising. Bolts of lightning cracked so bright and so long we had to shut our eyes against them. Thunder that rumbled then roared then growled, all in one continuous long song. There was so much electricity in the air that half the time our instruments didn’t work, reading crazy wind strengths (such as 200 knots). Chris was sure we’d be hit; how could we not? We crammed our oven full with electrical instruments and computers, and threw over our grounding strip. And waited.
Around 10pm, I was down below trying to get in a nap, when Chris called me up. The wind had died and we were stuck in, as Chris called it, the belly of the beast. It was as if we were inside a thunderhead. We couldn’t see more then our boat length away – in any direction. Rain poured down. And everywhere lightning flashed, you could see the bolts darting through the clouds. 360 degrees of surrounding lightning; and here we were sitting there with this huge metal pole standing 60 feet tall. Not a place to just kick it, so we turned on the motor and went full throttle. And went. And went. It felt as though we were doing circles, we had no reference points and it didn’t seem like we’d ever make it out. For two hours we motored and sailed as the winds died and increased. The entire time the thunder roared so loud it shook us to the core and the lightning continued, each flash circling 360 and briefly lighting the surrounding dark masses of clouds.
About an hour into it, I was standing in the center of the cockpit facing starboard, with Chris behind the wheel, when WHACK. “What the hell was that?” Chris, ever so calmly, as if it is a normal occurrence, says “A bird”. “See”, as he shines his flash light on a small bird spread flat on the port side. He was tangled under one of our lines, so I moved the line to free him. Whether dazed, injured, or just plain tired he didn’t make a move to leave. At this point Chris and I were so exhausted and fed-up with the weather that we had nothing but empathy for the poor fellow. He didn’t seem to take well to the motion of the boat (who would), and was having trouble standing. Chris bundled up his sweatshirt and placed the bird into it, providing some assistance against the rocking. Meanwhile the bird’s family seemed to be following us, SQWACK … SQWACK. Our new friend sqwacked back occasionally but made no move to leave. Chris, in his delirious state, actually called out to the birds, inviting them aboard, shining his flashlight onto the decks in a runway fashion. No one else joined us, but they did follow us for a good bit. At one point Chris moved the bird slightly forward of the cockpit, near the railing, to give him a better chance to fly off with his mates, but the bird stayed. So we left the guy, desperately trying to maintain his balance and looking at Chris and I as though we were fools to be on such a moving beast, in the cockpit to rest.
Around midnight, we finally we broke out. Seven hours of nasty lightning finally coming to an end. It was blowing 16-20 and still raining, with occasional lightning flashes here and there, but the clouds no longer blended with the seas and the lightning no longer circled us. Chris finally attempted to rest while I took watch. Eventually our bird friend moved, practically flew into my head, scaring the you-know-what out of me. I thought he wanted to leave, so I lifted the cockpit wind-curtain, but at the same time a wave hit and the bird lost his balance and fell on the floor. I scooped him up and held him to the hole in the wind-curtain. Just about then another huge wave hit and the bird half fell and half jumped from my hands, landing on our swim step. He didn’t look happy at all, but there was no way I could reach him, so I left him, hoping he’d fly away before another wave washed him off the step. The next time I looked out he was gone. I had to convince myself that he surely flew off to safety before a wave came and washed him out to sea.
We went an entire five hours without a squall hitting. We were overjoyed. The next morning was still overcast, but a bit calmer. Maybe, just maybe it was almost over. BAM. Another squall. A white out of rain. We couldn’t see past our bow. But no wind this time, so we were motoring. Unfortunately the seas weren’t dying and they seemed to be coming from three different directions. The three boats up ahead had started sailing again and were reporting the same conditions. By now we were both beyond exhaustion. We’d hardly been able to sleep, and what sleep we did manage was uncomfortable and broken. It is amazing how your body handles such exhaustion. While there are times that the waves and winds can sound a bit like voices, it is usually easy to tell your mind is just playing tricks on you … unless, that is, you are sleep deprived. On more than one occasion Chris reported hearing voices and music. He was especially thrown off when one day we were within VHF range with Indra. Chris hadn’t realized I was talking to them on the VHF down below, and with the high winds he could barely make out Rob’s voice on the cockpit mike. He thought his mind was playing tricks again until he finally realized he actually recognized the voice this time. We had to be extra careful the more sleep deprived we became. There were times when I was so tired I couldn’t get the instruments to focus; they were just blurry numbers before my eyes. Onetime Chris was checking and couldn’t manage to clear his brain enough to compute what he was looking at on the instruments and what it all meant. He had to just stare at the numbers trying to remember what he was supposed to be accomplishing. Staying awake during watches and alert during squalls became more and more difficult; our watch timer was barely doing the trick of waking us if/when we fell asleep. Thank god is was just about over.
The 28th was our first day without rain since the whole mess had begun. The winds were still up (around 20 kts) and the seas still confused, but what a difference a little sun can make in your outlook. We hadn’t fished since the first squally night, but as we passed over a few shallow banks, Chris threw over one line just for fun. We instantly caught a very funky looking reef fish with big ‘ol teeth and a huge wide-open mouth. Not knowing what he was and being still a bit rough to attempt fish cleaning, we threw him back. Another time the “fish on” snubber was pulled bar tight until the 400 lb test line snapped like it was a thin piece of thread, I would have like to have gotten a look at THAT fish!
The 29th was still lumpy and windy, but now we could see the light at the end of the tunnel, as the next day we’d be in Fijian waters and we knew it would be calmer once we got into the Somosomo straight. After all the crappy bad-weather meals I was looking forward to something real and was excited that Chris would once again be able to fish. The next morning was utter bliss. Clam and near flat. Mostly sunny. No black ugly clouds on the horizon. Fijian mountains in the distance. And Chris fishing. With six lines running, we looked more like a fishing vessel than sailboat, but it paid off. By 8am we had already pulled in a good size Mahi Mahi. We also had caught a Barracuda, but opted to not keep it. We spent the day enjoying the calm seas and light winds. Chris played with his magnitudes of fishing gear in between boat chores, such as draining 25 gallons of water from our forward bulk-head. I straightened up down below and kept the boat on course. It is amazing how many things can get jarred free and end up flying across the cabin. With all the commotion we had also managed to burst a few of our home-brew bottles … Billabong smelled like a brewery. We enjoyed extremely fresh fish tacos for lunch and looked forward to another fish meal for dinner. The winds continued to lighten, so we eventually had to motor. Life aboard Billabong was slowly returning to normal.
Since we had our track and waypoints from last year, we were able to get into the Savusavu bay at night. It was around 11pm and we didn’t want to go all the way into the harbor at night without knowing if and what mooring balls were available, but we knew the approximate location of a mooring ball out at the point (about 3 miles from the harbor). We had never attempted picking up a mooring at night, but the thought of a restful night of sleep tempted us into trying. Surprisingly, it went really well, and we soon found ourselves enjoying a calm, cool, quiet evening. You don’t realize just how loud the wind and rain are until you are still. I found myself enjoying the stillness of everything; the air, the wind, the boat, and myself. We both let out huge “Ahhhhhhhhs”, and then hit the sack. It is technically against check-in regulations to moor or anchor prior to clearing into the country, so we got up at the crack of dawn and headed into the anchorage.
It’s hot and muggy due to lack of breeze, but it’s calm. We’ve seen a few familiar faces and have enjoyed being recognized by some of the locals. Navire, Hygeleg, and Indra all made it in on Wednesday as well, so that evening we went out to share ‘war stories’ over cold beers. Navire, having sailed for 10 years and having been around the world nth amount of times commented that this was some of the roughest seas/weather ever encountered. It didn’t help that early on they tore their main sail and had to use their tri-sail, which makes it difficult to point. Hygeleg has been out sailing for over 20 years and he said this was his worst passage yet. While not the worst weather he’s seen, the confused rough seas and endless squalls combined with a torn main sail and broken auto-pilot made the passage nearly intolerable. Indra had to battle a broken wind-vane, leaks, and a severe burn caused from a pot of boiling water falling onto Margie’s hand when a squall came up unexpectedly. All in all, it made Billabong’s passage seem not-so-bad considering we didn’t break anything or hurt ourselves.
After more than 1600 nautical miles of the 1787.3 mile trip to weather (an approximate 45 degree apparent wind angle) and 373 hours, 19 minutes of continuous moving, we are quite thrilled that we have only day-trips to look forward to for the next month or two!
(from Majuro, Marshall Islands)
Current Position: 16°46.6' S 179°19.9' E
Next Destination: Undecided (somewhere in Fiji)
Miles Traveled: 1787.3
Miles to Go: 0
Yipeee! We’ve done it, finally arrived in Savusavu, and oh what a blessing it is. We officially pulled into the anchorage on Wednesday, May 31 around 7a.m. It’s our first time returning to a location already visited, and it feels a bit like returning home. After nine months visiting flat atolls, the surrounding luscious green mountains of Fiji are breathtaking. And we feel we’ve earned the peaceful waters of the anchorage, as less than twelve hours after writing our previous BLOG (posted 5/25) all hell broke loose.
As the sun was setting on the evening of the 25th, we could see we were surrounded by a number of thunderheads, but nothing so dense to be concerned about. The first squall hit around 7:30pm, marking the beginning of our most exhausting night in our passage-making history. Squall after squall hit, pounding us with enough rain to solve most of the world’s drought problems and with winds between 30-38 knots. They continued the entire night. Twelve hours straight. Hitting so close together that we never got more than 20-30 minutes rest. Our definition of a “squall” was redefined. Once the word “squall” would conjure up images of a large thunderhead throwing down some rain and wind for about 5-15 minutes before passing by … a bit inconvenient, but short-lived. Not this night. These squalls lasted from 30-90 minutes. They didn’t just throw down some rain; they pelted us with water bullets. The wind howled down at us and the waves tossed us around like rag-dolls. It was truly ugly.
Neither of us slept much, if at all, and when dawn finally broke we anxiously looked around hoping to see some break in the system. Depression hit fast when all that surrounded us was a thick layer of clouds and thunderheads. During one of the “calm” periods Chris did a quick deck check and found our main sheet block shackle had worked itself completely out of the threads, the only thing holding it was the pressure of the sail on the line. If it had come loose during a big squall we would have had some serious damage. That morning I talked to a single-hander, Russ (on Hygeleg) on the SSB Radio. He along with Indra and Navire, were a few hundred miles ahead of us. They were all hove-to waiting for a system even further South to break up before continuing on. Russ confirmed that he and Indra had also gone through the system we were currently in, and it had lasted about two days. Not what I was hoping to hear. As the SSB radio net was a twice a day event, Chris later asked me (as I was the one who had been listening in everyday), “How the hell could you have missed them talking about this kind of weather for two days straight?”. In my defense, I didn’t have a copy on Indra or Navire. Hygeleg complained of squalls in addition to a bunch of stuff on his boat breaking; so when he talked about how exhausted he was I attributed it to everything, including him being a single-hander, not just bad weather. I figured, okay so we might hit a few squalls … never had I imagined this! Had I picked up on it, we could’ve pulled into Funafuti, Tuvalu and waited for better weather, but now it was too late, we were going to have to ride it out. What’s even worse is the system had further developed by the time we had arrived. Needless to say, from then on I was much more attentive when I listened to the net.
That day we experienced less squalls, but the winds had picked up to a constant 20-25 knots and the seas were building and extremely lumpy. It was like being in a washing machine. The worst part was that we still had to run close-hauled in order to keep our Easting and not loose our rhumbline heading. The day was dark, dreary, and wet; never did any blue sky seem to poke through. The squalls that did hit were just as intense as the night before, but now we seemed to have a system down and so they didn’t seem quite as bad. Around 4pm I was getting hopefully that perhaps the night wouldn’t be so awful. It wasn’t the most comfortable ride, but with fewer squalls we could at least get a bit of rest. After two meals of granola bars I was thinking something warm and soupy would be comforting and a bit more nutritious. It was still too rough to cook anything ‘real’, so cup-o-soup was on my mind when the next squall hit. The squall packed a punch, making it too rough even for cup-o-soup. I kept waiting for it to end, but alas it was there for the long-haul and I conceded once again to another granola bar meal.
When things are bad, it’s good to remember they could always get worse. And unfortunately in this case they did. Now we weren’t just surrounded by squalls with painful rain and high winds. Now we had lightning. The worst thunder and lightning either of us has ever seen in our lives. LIVES – not just since cruising. Bolts of lightning cracked so bright and so long we had to shut our eyes against them. Thunder that rumbled then roared then growled, all in one continuous long song. There was so much electricity in the air that half the time our instruments didn’t work, reading crazy wind strengths (such as 200 knots). Chris was sure we’d be hit; how could we not? We crammed our oven full with electrical instruments and computers, and threw over our grounding strip. And waited.
Around 10pm, I was down below trying to get in a nap, when Chris called me up. The wind had died and we were stuck in, as Chris called it, the belly of the beast. It was as if we were inside a thunderhead. We couldn’t see more then our boat length away – in any direction. Rain poured down. And everywhere lightning flashed, you could see the bolts darting through the clouds. 360 degrees of surrounding lightning; and here we were sitting there with this huge metal pole standing 60 feet tall. Not a place to just kick it, so we turned on the motor and went full throttle. And went. And went. It felt as though we were doing circles, we had no reference points and it didn’t seem like we’d ever make it out. For two hours we motored and sailed as the winds died and increased. The entire time the thunder roared so loud it shook us to the core and the lightning continued, each flash circling 360 and briefly lighting the surrounding dark masses of clouds.
About an hour into it, I was standing in the center of the cockpit facing starboard, with Chris behind the wheel, when WHACK. “What the hell was that?” Chris, ever so calmly, as if it is a normal occurrence, says “A bird”. “See”, as he shines his flash light on a small bird spread flat on the port side. He was tangled under one of our lines, so I moved the line to free him. Whether dazed, injured, or just plain tired he didn’t make a move to leave. At this point Chris and I were so exhausted and fed-up with the weather that we had nothing but empathy for the poor fellow. He didn’t seem to take well to the motion of the boat (who would), and was having trouble standing. Chris bundled up his sweatshirt and placed the bird into it, providing some assistance against the rocking. Meanwhile the bird’s family seemed to be following us, SQWACK … SQWACK. Our new friend sqwacked back occasionally but made no move to leave. Chris, in his delirious state, actually called out to the birds, inviting them aboard, shining his flashlight onto the decks in a runway fashion. No one else joined us, but they did follow us for a good bit. At one point Chris moved the bird slightly forward of the cockpit, near the railing, to give him a better chance to fly off with his mates, but the bird stayed. So we left the guy, desperately trying to maintain his balance and looking at Chris and I as though we were fools to be on such a moving beast, in the cockpit to rest.
Around midnight, we finally we broke out. Seven hours of nasty lightning finally coming to an end. It was blowing 16-20 and still raining, with occasional lightning flashes here and there, but the clouds no longer blended with the seas and the lightning no longer circled us. Chris finally attempted to rest while I took watch. Eventually our bird friend moved, practically flew into my head, scaring the you-know-what out of me. I thought he wanted to leave, so I lifted the cockpit wind-curtain, but at the same time a wave hit and the bird lost his balance and fell on the floor. I scooped him up and held him to the hole in the wind-curtain. Just about then another huge wave hit and the bird half fell and half jumped from my hands, landing on our swim step. He didn’t look happy at all, but there was no way I could reach him, so I left him, hoping he’d fly away before another wave washed him off the step. The next time I looked out he was gone. I had to convince myself that he surely flew off to safety before a wave came and washed him out to sea.
We went an entire five hours without a squall hitting. We were overjoyed. The next morning was still overcast, but a bit calmer. Maybe, just maybe it was almost over. BAM. Another squall. A white out of rain. We couldn’t see past our bow. But no wind this time, so we were motoring. Unfortunately the seas weren’t dying and they seemed to be coming from three different directions. The three boats up ahead had started sailing again and were reporting the same conditions. By now we were both beyond exhaustion. We’d hardly been able to sleep, and what sleep we did manage was uncomfortable and broken. It is amazing how your body handles such exhaustion. While there are times that the waves and winds can sound a bit like voices, it is usually easy to tell your mind is just playing tricks on you … unless, that is, you are sleep deprived. On more than one occasion Chris reported hearing voices and music. He was especially thrown off when one day we were within VHF range with Indra. Chris hadn’t realized I was talking to them on the VHF down below, and with the high winds he could barely make out Rob’s voice on the cockpit mike. He thought his mind was playing tricks again until he finally realized he actually recognized the voice this time. We had to be extra careful the more sleep deprived we became. There were times when I was so tired I couldn’t get the instruments to focus; they were just blurry numbers before my eyes. Onetime Chris was checking and couldn’t manage to clear his brain enough to compute what he was looking at on the instruments and what it all meant. He had to just stare at the numbers trying to remember what he was supposed to be accomplishing. Staying awake during watches and alert during squalls became more and more difficult; our watch timer was barely doing the trick of waking us if/when we fell asleep. Thank god is was just about over.
The 28th was our first day without rain since the whole mess had begun. The winds were still up (around 20 kts) and the seas still confused, but what a difference a little sun can make in your outlook. We hadn’t fished since the first squally night, but as we passed over a few shallow banks, Chris threw over one line just for fun. We instantly caught a very funky looking reef fish with big ‘ol teeth and a huge wide-open mouth. Not knowing what he was and being still a bit rough to attempt fish cleaning, we threw him back. Another time the “fish on” snubber was pulled bar tight until the 400 lb test line snapped like it was a thin piece of thread, I would have like to have gotten a look at THAT fish!
The 29th was still lumpy and windy, but now we could see the light at the end of the tunnel, as the next day we’d be in Fijian waters and we knew it would be calmer once we got into the Somosomo straight. After all the crappy bad-weather meals I was looking forward to something real and was excited that Chris would once again be able to fish. The next morning was utter bliss. Clam and near flat. Mostly sunny. No black ugly clouds on the horizon. Fijian mountains in the distance. And Chris fishing. With six lines running, we looked more like a fishing vessel than sailboat, but it paid off. By 8am we had already pulled in a good size Mahi Mahi. We also had caught a Barracuda, but opted to not keep it. We spent the day enjoying the calm seas and light winds. Chris played with his magnitudes of fishing gear in between boat chores, such as draining 25 gallons of water from our forward bulk-head. I straightened up down below and kept the boat on course. It is amazing how many things can get jarred free and end up flying across the cabin. With all the commotion we had also managed to burst a few of our home-brew bottles … Billabong smelled like a brewery. We enjoyed extremely fresh fish tacos for lunch and looked forward to another fish meal for dinner. The winds continued to lighten, so we eventually had to motor. Life aboard Billabong was slowly returning to normal.
Since we had our track and waypoints from last year, we were able to get into the Savusavu bay at night. It was around 11pm and we didn’t want to go all the way into the harbor at night without knowing if and what mooring balls were available, but we knew the approximate location of a mooring ball out at the point (about 3 miles from the harbor). We had never attempted picking up a mooring at night, but the thought of a restful night of sleep tempted us into trying. Surprisingly, it went really well, and we soon found ourselves enjoying a calm, cool, quiet evening. You don’t realize just how loud the wind and rain are until you are still. I found myself enjoying the stillness of everything; the air, the wind, the boat, and myself. We both let out huge “Ahhhhhhhhs”, and then hit the sack. It is technically against check-in regulations to moor or anchor prior to clearing into the country, so we got up at the crack of dawn and headed into the anchorage.
After more than 1600 nautical miles of the 1787.3 mile trip to weather (an approximate 45 degree apparent wind angle) and 373 hours, 19 minutes of continuous moving, we are quite thrilled that we have only day-trips to look forward to for the next month or two!
New Route for Billabong
We find ourselves once again in Savusavu. Not much new to report; we have been busy visiting with old friends (from our first season of cruising), and preparing Billabong and ourselves for our next passage (including a side trip via airplane to Suva).
We have FINALLY confirmed our plans for the remaining months of this cruising season. Instead of continuing west to Vanuatu, New Caledonia and Australia, we will head North to the Marshall Islands. This will include stops in Tuvalu and Kiribati. We should be arriving in the Marshalls around Dec/Jan and will sit the cyclone season out there. By going north we will now have an extra season in the South Pacific. Next year (April/May 2006) we will head back down to Fiji and then west, ending in Australia around Dec 2006. We should be heading out of Fiji by the end of the week (hopefully before our Visas expire on Sept 18th).
We have FINALLY confirmed our plans for the remaining months of this cruising season. Instead of continuing west to Vanuatu, New Caledonia and Australia, we will head North to the Marshall Islands. This will include stops in Tuvalu and Kiribati. We should be arriving in the Marshalls around Dec/Jan and will sit the cyclone season out there. By going north we will now have an extra season in the South Pacific. Next year (April/May 2006) we will head back down to Fiji and then west, ending in Australia around Dec 2006. We should be heading out of Fiji by the end of the week (hopefully before our Visas expire on Sept 18th).
We'll continue to stay in touch via the website and Blogs. Stay tuned!!!
Drifting Across the South Pacific - Messages in a Bottle
| Navatu Bay : Bottle 2 destination - 3000 Miles and ended up 15 miles away from our entrance track |
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| Our track vs the two recovered bottles |
As we were getting ready for our 5 year sailing trip, we decided to have a party to say goodbye to all of our friends and family. The boat was very full and we were slightly afraid of the “helpful” gifts we might receive from the guests, so we stole an idea from our friends on Claire de Lune who had left earlier in the season. In lieu of gifts, it was suggested that guests bring a bottle of wine with their email and/or mailing address on the bottle. We told them that we would email/mail them from the location we drank their bottle of wine and describe some of our adventures of the area. It is not much of a bribe but I guess there are a few people who want to live vicariously through other people's drinking habits, and we left Ventura CA with a full wine-bilge.
As we set out on the big puddle-jump between Puerto Vallarta Mexico and the Marquesas we decided to add a little bonus for our adventure starved friends. On April 12 at the equator (133° W) we threw four wines bottles overboard with messages and our boat cards wrapped inside ziplock bags into the great blue ocean to see what would happen. We continued across the South Pacific on the traditional coconut milk run route (the northern version) and ended up in New Zealand in November 2004, having traveled over 9000 nautical miles since our going away party the year before.
In early January we received an email from a woman in Auasi, American Samoa whose son had found one of our bottles on the beach on Dec 31, 2004. She said the message was unreadable, but our boat card helped guide her to us. Our bottle had traveled 2400 nautical miles during our passage and ended up within 50 miles of our track between Suwarrow in the Cook Islands and Nuiatoputapu in Tonga.
We spent the rest of cyclone season enjoying the land travel in New Zealand covering almost the same distance as our pacific crossing, before we headed back to the tropics to Savusavu Fiji in May, 2005. We spent most of our time in Fiji off the beaten track, cruising the eastern side of Fiji to the Lau group, Budd Reef and the Northern side of Vanua Levu and did not see more than four other boats the entire time. We were very much looking forward to stocking up on some fresh produce when we arrived in Labasa Fiji, where we checked our email and were amazed to find that another one of our bottles had been found. This one was found in May 2005 and on the island of Navatu in Fiji. It took us awhile but we finally located the island; it was only 15 miles from where we entered the reef in Savusavu!! We changed our plans and continued our trip around Vanua Levu and pulled into the anchorage at Navatu only to find out that the young man actually lived in Suva but was visiting his Great Aunt when he found the bottle. It was still interesting to see the village, meet his aunt and converge on the same path that our bottle had taken from over 3000 miles away.
For the cyclone season this year we are heading to the Marshall islands. We’ve really enjoyed the leisurely cruising through Tuvalu and Kirabati and yesterday, November 12, 2005, we once again found ourselves crossing the equator (this time at 173.5° E). Four more bottles entered the strong westerly setting Equatorial current and it will be VERY interesting to see where they end up. I am still amazed that two out of the four original bottles were found in one piece. When you look at the expanse of the pacific as you sail across it, then explore the remote unpopulated beaches and watch the surf pound on the windward reefs, I can’t imagine what the odds makers in Vegas would do. If only we had put a message in our dinghy before it drifted out to sea forever from Ua Pou in the Marquesas, or better yet bought a lottery ticket along the way.
Baulailai Bay
Baulailai Bay (August 17th – 22nd )
16°44.88' S 178°29.02' E
As much as we enjoyed our visits on the north side of Vanua Levu, there is something to be said for time alone! After leaving Naviqiri we decided to anchor at Baulailai Bay, largely because there was no village. We had the bay to ourselves and were enjoying some of the down time. We did have a few visitors drop by, locals from neighboring villages who were out fishing. We got a good shock when one fishing boat came by and yelled out "Bula Chris! Where's KT?". "You know me?" asked Chris. Turns out they were from a neighboring village to Naviqiri and had hear about us through the 'coconut network' (what we've tagged the amazing gossip trail that seems to exist from one village to the next, even without phones). We also learned that deep into the mangroves of Baulailai Bay is an Indian Village of about 5 houses. One of the residents stopped by to say hello and we traded some banana bread for fresh oragnes. Other than that it was quite quiet and we spent time reading and relaxing. There was also a bit of weather that came through so we ended up staying four nights while we waited for the rain and wind to pass by.
We left Baulailai Bay on the 21st, and spent the night at Salevu Bay.
16°44.88' S 178°29.02' E
| Baulailai Bay |
We left Baulailai Bay on the 21st, and spent the night at Salevu Bay.
Also Island to Navaqiri Village: It's all about the People
It is impossible to find the words to describe our recent experiences …they are unlike anything we've ever imagined and it is all due to the wonderful natives of Fiji. These people have opened our eyes and hearts to way of living that we can only hope to keep with us when we (someday) return to America.
As we prefer to keep the BLOGs short (and since we are four weeks behind), we'll save the details for a future website update and just give you a brief summary in the BLOG (guess you'll just have to wait for the really good stuff!).
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MALAU POINT / LABASA
Our next extended stay was three nights at Malau Point which provided bus access to the "big city" of Labasa. As with the States it seems that large cities change everything … we could quickly feel the good moods of weeks past draining away as we battled traffic, noise, trash, and some less friendly Fijians. On the bright side we were ecstatic about hitting an internet café and browsing the HUGE fresh veggie market. Meat and Veggies at last!!!
ULUIVAWANI
We truly lucked at when we landed here … After leaving Malau Point we spent a windy night anchored at Nukubati Bay, so windy that the following morning (now August 1st) we picked up anchor and went looking for a more protected spot. Uluivawani is not listed on the charts as an anchorage, but as we motored by we noticed how calm it was and thought the sandy beach looked like an added bonus.
There were only two houses ashore, so we weren't sure what to expect when we went ashore with Shadowfax (who we'd been traveling with this entire time). What we found was one of the nicest couples we've met (Ben and Nie) who live with their father and work/farm the surrounding land.
Ben and Nie took us on an amazing hike, to the top of rocks overlooking the bay, with a beautiful view that still sits in the forefront of my memory. They offered us food & tea and opened their home to us without a second thought. In return (although they wanted & expected nothing) we offered to cook them dinner and held a potluck at their house. We aren't sure if they really liked our Palongi dishes, but they would never say otherwise (we did noticed they seemed to take extra rice!).
We only stayed two nights and when we went in to say goodbye and thank-you, they sent us back to our boats with so much food (coconuts, kasava, bananas) that we nearly sunk the dinghy!
NAURORE (NAVIQIRI VILLAGE)
If the last two months in Fiji hadn't yet convinced us that there is something quite special about the Fijian People & their culture, Naviqiri Village alone would've done so! It is with tears in my eyes that I think about Naviqiri and what to write, as it was just today that we departed after a two week stay. We can't believe it was only two weeks, it felt like at least a month, and the people touched something special within Chris and I.
We shared meals … everywhere we went lunch or tea was offered. We had a few visitors on Billabong for tea & snacks, and one couple out for dinner (who later reported to her sister that the food was "like in the magazines"!!!). It also seemed that we were beckoned into way too many grog (kava) parties - it is just impossible to say no! A couple of the days we brought in some special treats, attempting to make enough for the entire village - it was quite the mob scene as we handed out cakes,
cookies and lollies (they sure do love sweets!).
cookies and lollies (they sure do love sweets!).
We shared games … Chris nearly killed himself playing rugby with both the kids and adults, but there is no doubt that sports can unite where language might fail, and no matter how old he might feel the next morning (or same evening) he played just about every afternoon. I stuck to Frisbee (which we introduced them to), volleyball and children games (jump rope, three legged races, wheel barrel races, leap frog, and duck-duck goose). It got so the children (and I think some of the adults too) would come looking for us after school … I think we spent EVERY afternoon of our two weeks hanging out and playing, staying until the very last bit of light left the sky!
We shared crafts and work … Chris pulled his back helping a few of the men build a house, while I gained a sore bum sitting on hard floors discovering that weaving & broom making take a lot of time and patience! We learned the process of coconut oil making and yaquona drying (for kava). I shared some of my cross-stitches (just to prove that Palongi's can be creative too!).
As with most the South Pacific, they LOVE getting their pictures taken and looking at the resulting photo on the LCD screen. It seemed they were even more enthusiastic then most we'd come across. If we had had enough paper and ink (and time) we would have tried to print a copy for everyone; instead we put together a visitor's book for them, including five color collage prints of photos we had taken during our visit. I was first amazed at the elegant words Chris used when he presented our
loloma (gift) to the village (during Church service), and then even more amazed with the smiles and tears of the villagers as they crowded around the book later in the day, pointing and laughing at the various pictures.
loloma (gift) to the village (during Church service), and then even more amazed with the smiles and tears of the villagers as they crowded around the book later in the day, pointing and laughing at the various pictures.
We also enjoyed some terrific walking/hiking. The views were outstanding, and we were always accompanied by a local or two which made it all the more enjoyable. It felt as though we truly got to know many of the villagers and they got to know us. It seemed there was never enough time in a day and the two weeks went quickly. We said our goodbyes (on August 16th), stopping by each house (nearly 40 of them) to give handshakes, hugs, and Vinaka Vakalevu's (Thank you very much's). We had become especially good friends with Sera, Fredie and their family. Even Fredie (and just about Chris) shed tears as we said goodbye. Grandma (as we call her) hugged me so tight I thought I might
pass out!
pass out!
As we motored out of the bay, they flashed us using the sun's reflection off of mirrors (we of course flashed back) … and kept flashing … and kept flashing … and kept flashing … I kid you not, it went on for a good 30 minutes while we got farther and farther away. Already I am looking forward to our return …
Naurore & Naviqiri Village
Naurore and Naviqiri Village (August 3rd – 17th)
Arrival
The bay of Naurore was dotted with locals fishing with hand lines from bamboo rafts. We had barely set the anchor when a couple of these bamboo rafts started making their way towards us. “BULA! BULA!”, yelled out two women from one of the rafts as they neared Billabong. “BULA!”, we smiled back. As the raft bumped up against our transom step one of the ladies (Sio) hopped aboard. While we think the Fijian’s openness and sharing is terrific, it is sometimes hard for us to get used to this “open door policy”. We have to remind ourselves that in their culture visiting one another, entering other’s homes, does not always require an invitation (or knocking), people come and go as they please. It’s something that we’d have to adjust to over the next two weeks in Naviqiri. We helped Sera (the other lady) tie up the raft and come aboard. A few minutes later another bamboo raft appeared and Luke joined us as well. I was beginning to think it was going to be a downright party when I noticed a few more rafts paddling towards Billabong, but our guests yelled out a few words in Fijian and the rafts headed for Shadowfax instead. Sio was one of the more pushy and grabby Fijians we’ve met; just picking up anything and everything in the cockpit and eventually putting on Chris’s reef walkers (we're pretty sure she would've walked away with them if we hadn't said something when she left!).
Luke didn’t seem to speak much English but had a terrific (mostly toothless) smile and seemed to just enjoy hanging in the cockpit. Sera was more reserved but quite curious about us. She asked all kinds of questions about our boat, where we’d been in Fiji, and especially about Chris and I and our relationship. In most of the South Pacific Islands that we have visited, including Fiji, we’ve found it easier to just let people assume we’re married … this fits in better with some of the conservative cultures and saves us from any lengthy explanations. However, we didn’t really go out of the way to tell people this, we just didn’t correct people when they referred to our husband or wife. Sera however was so curious that it was becoming difficult to be sly. Hating to lie, I tried a number of avoidance tactics; when she asked me how long Chris and I had been married, I replied, “Oh, Chris and I have been together for 3 years.” When she asked when [date] we got married, I ignored the question and asked, “When did you get married?”. We went round about like this for a few more minutes before I finally caved and starting making stuff up.
At this point Chris was forward with our other two guests, so I was talking loudly to ensure we’d be on the same page should he be asked anything later on. By the time Sera was finished with me, we had married in Nov 2002, at a lovely beach ceremony with all our friends and family. I was lucky that she didn’t ask for photos!!! I was getting some weird side glances from Chris as he was talking to Sio & Luke (and overhearing me), but he was smart enough not to question anything. I learned that Sera had been married for nine years, and while she wants children has yet to have any (not by choice). Hearing this and knowing what children mean in the Fijian culture my heart went out to her.
We had a good visit with our new friends before they headed out for more fishing and we cleaned up for our Sevusevu with the chief.
Welcome
When we first came ashore just outside the village things seemed a bit dicey. A young man was standing on the beach watching us approach. uncharacteristic to Fijians, he was not smiling or yelling out Bula. As the four of us clamored out of the dinghy and cheerfully said BULA, he still didn’t smile or talk.
And he still said nothing when we asked if he knew where the Turaga ni Koro lived. Uh oh we thought, what kind of village is this? We weren’t to sure what to do, a visitor should not just enter the village on their own, they should be guided/escorted, at least until the Sevusevu has been accepted. Down the beach a bit were three young men, so not having much luck with our current local, we yelled out to them and asked if they knew where the Turaga ni Koro was. One of them finally came forward and said he would lead us to him. Phew! Of course by now we were completely confused about what we would find in the village; on one hand we had a great greeting from the fishermen, but on the other hand, these young men didn’t seem to really want anything to do with us. Well, we later discovered that the first young man, Sakioso, was mentally slow and quite shy ... basically he didn't know what to make of these white people coming ashore! By the end of our visit he would be talking up a storm (mostly in Fijian) and smiling whenever we came near. The other three young men were actually from a different village, and the Turaga ni Koro was away from the village, so these young men weren't sure where to take us! It all made sense afterwards, but sure was awkward in the moment!
Any feelings of doubt were swept away the minute we entered the village. It was truly a mob scene. Everyone came out to greet us and within seconds we were surrounded. Hands were thrust, names exchanged, and smiles shared. I swear I actually saw a few women running down the path to meet us! You’d be shaking one hand while another person tapped you on your right shoulder, just as you turned to shake their hand, someone else would tap your left shoulder, as so it went. It seemed like it took hours just to walk a few feet. We felt famous, like rock stars, surrounded by people who just wanted a glimpse of us, and if lucky an autograph (or in this case a hand shake). It is so hard to comprehend, because who are we to warrant so much attention? … I mean really, we’re nobody, just a couple of white people on “vacation”. But in these out of the way places we are unique, we are different, we are truly from another world – they are honored that we would want to visit their village, their home, of all places. And so we moved along, until we were ushered into one of the homes. Even has we were sitting people streamed in to present their hands to us and introduce themselves. Others gathered at the doorway to watch. Chris & Karl started to put their yaqona out, when I whispered to Chris, “so who’s the chief?”. He didn’t know. Neither did Karl or Julie. Finally Chris asked, and that’s when we learned that this wasn’t the chief’s house, it was just a grog party … it didn’t matter that they’d just met us, we were invited! “We, ‘er, have to go to the chief’s house” we said. “Stay and have some grog”, they told us. But when we asked if that was ‘allowed’ before we had done our Sevusevu, they promptly nominated someone to lead us to the chief’s house, making us promise we'd come back afterwards.
The chief isn’t able to get out of bed much due to severe arthritis in his knees. After shaking hands and introductions we sat on the floor while he propped himself up in his bed. He performed the chants/prayers for the yaqona and introduced us to Elia who then took us on a tour of the village. If we had missed anyone on the way into the village, we met them now. The village has 41 houses, although somewhere between 5 – 10 of those houses are not currently lived in (their owners typically residing/working in Labasa or Suva). After our tour we returned to the grog party which was taking place in Seraia’s house. Not that we like grog much, but a promise is a promise. We donated some pre-ground Waka (kava) to the cause and spent over an hour kicking it on the floor with a huge group of people.
The next morning (Thursday) we were surprised when a few of the villagers arrived at Billabong to check us & the boat out. They excitedly came aboard and stayed, visiting for a couple of hours. After their visit we went ashore with Shadowfax and met up with Sera and Seraia who guided us on walk. The scenery was beautiful and we enjoyed getting to know our ‘guides’. Along the way we ran into the Turaga ni Koro, who, as it turns out, is Sera’s brother. It is interesting to get to know the family relations within the village, you soon discover that although not obvious, there is a definite pecking order. Everyone appears to help anyone, and on the whole the village runs as a terrific sharing community, but it is not without ‘political’ undercurrents. After our walk, which took us up where we could view the neighboring bays and then around past the school, we relaxed under a huge tree, joined by other locals. Chris excitedly waiting for the touch Rugby game to start (which they play every afternoon around four).
Playtime
Afternoon play time became a daily must for us. It was the easiest place to relax and goof off with the locals, especially the children. No matter how sore or run down Chris played touch rugby with the men everyday. In between taking video and pictures, I played games with the children. Learning a few of their games, as well as teaching them some of our own. During one of the rugby games I taught a few of the kids a fight song (Lean to left, lean to the right, stand up, sit down, fight-fight-fight) and The Wave. The wave was especially interesting, because while they did what I told them, I could tell they didn’t get it! I tried to explain to one of the older children (who spoke better English), but, …. well you can just imagine how silly & pointless the wave must seem, especially to someone who hasn’t every seen or been to a large scale sporting event! We also brought in a Frisbee, which everyone from the two year olds to the fifty year olds tossed around. Chris would get them laughing with his behind the back and under the leg throws. The children loved when he’d tell them to “go long” … even after two weeks they never ran far enough. A few of the men would attempt a long throw after seeing Chris, getting laughs all around when the Frisbee went straight into the dirt! By our second week there they had also gotten out a volleyball net which they hoisted between two wooden branches stuck in the ground. They weren’t big on form, but it was huge amounts of fun and they were great at keeping a volley going. Saturday’s were especially fun because all the local children who boarded at the nearby school came home for the weekend. It was hard to keep up with all the activity, we’d return to the boat after dark, hot, dirty and exhausted … but it in our two weeks at Naviqiri we didn’t miss a single afternoon!
School
During our walk with Sera & Seraia, the school headmaster (principal) had invited us back on Friday. So Friday morning, escorted by Sera and two younger children, we headed out for the school. Although this school was also a boarding school, it was much smaller than Cawaro’s. They gathered all the children in one room, and we introduced ourselves … giving the same type of spill that we had in Cawaro. We got the same sort of questions from the children, although we were once again caught of guard by one little boy’s question. He asked, “Our you still fighting with Iraq?”. Living on boats, usually in the middle of nowhere, we aren’t up-to-date on current events, and so Chris responded, “You tell me, are we?” We were even more surprised when a bit later, after one of the children had asked us what religion we were, the teacher mentioned that he was Muslim, and then said, “You must hate all Muslims.” It baffles me that he could think that … even more so it saddens me, because America (as a whole) does seem to find a way to make a lot of things racial. I don’t get it, and we strongly explained that no, we don’t hate all Muslims or any Muslims, we can only blame the specific people for their acts, not an entire culture or religion.
After class, our host (the Muslim teacher), Kamal, and his wife, Rafiza, invited us over to their house for refreshments. They live in a temporary house provided by the school (their ‘real’ home is in Labasa) with their two year old daughter (Zeenia) and Kamal's mother (Kariman). A few days later we also had dinner at their house, with his sister & her two children in attendance. When we arrived, hundred’s of curious eyes peered out at us from the dorms, and as we sat in Kamal's house we could see a number of children gathered outside looking in, trying to get a glimpse of the Palagi’s! Fijian Indians make up over 40% of Fiji’s population, and until dinner with Kamal & his family, we had not had much of a chance to learn about some of the different beliefs and traditions of the Indian population. It was an intriguing new experience for us. Apparently Zeenia likes to watch the video of her parent's wedding, and so we too watched along, learning quite a bit about arranged Muslim weddings. As both Kamal & Rafiza are teachers, we also talked a lot about the education system and the skill levels of the children. And we were thrilled when they served us tasty Indian dishes … Curry & Roti’s … it doesn’t get any better than that!
Food
We had quite a few interesting eating experiences in the village. It seemed that every time we turned around someone was offering us something to eat or drink. Tea is HUGE in Fiji. Typically black tea, with lots and lots of sugar. It takes a bit of getting used to; to drink a steaming hot cup of liquid when you are already sweating profusely! We actually preferred the lemon leaf tea, which was a bit ironic since they would apologize to us for only serving the lemon leaf tea whenever they were out of black tea. Since the black tea cost money, it is considered the fancier and more appropriate tea, especially for white guests. I came in early enough one morning to watch Grandma & Little Freddie eating breakfast … on the menu was cooked rice drowned in tea – eaten like a bowl of cereal. They also love breaking up breakfast crackers (a plain thick white cracker) into their cup of tea.
Cooked taro leaves served in coconut milk or mixed with a can of tuna is also popular. With exception that it is a bit soggy, it is probably one of the easiest things to get down (from a Palagi's point of view). When Sera served us lunch of taro mixed with tuna and cassava, we felt a twinge a guilt knowing that she had purchased the tuna especially for us. In most villages they live mainly off of what they can grow or catch, spending little or no money. Many of the villagers do not work on a regular basis, but rather a day here and there as needed to make a few dollars. For a full days work, the average Fijian makes about $10 F a day (that’s about $6.00 US)! And still, they continue to give, no matter how little they might have.
Sunday lunch (after church) is a big event as well. This is probably their fanciest meal of the week, and when they are most likely to use more valued food products (like fish or store bought items). You will always be invited for a Sunday meal at someone’s home. Of course cassava and taro leaves are still the main staples, but you are also likely to get fresh fish or octopus cooked in coconut milk. I wasn’t brave enough to go for the octopus, it just looked to much like … well, like an octopus! Chris did, and found it a bit chewy. It was really quite funny when he was trying to get some down and looked over and saw a little boy sucking down octopus tentacles just like spaghetti. The little boy had a couple of tentacles, with suction cups and all, hanging out of his mouth and slapping against his cheeks as he sucked them in. At any minute you expected the suction cups to adhere to his cheeks!
It was during one of these Sunday lunches that we discovered cassava is best smothered in lime juice and salt, although still far from good! It was also when we learned that the plate you are given (usually there is a dinner sized plate, along with a bowl) is used just for cassava (everything else goes into the bowl). Our plates looked a little silly with the measly amount of cassava we usually took. The Fijian’s on the other hand loaded their plates full with mounds of cassava. One afternoon even the preacher made fun of us, when he said, showing us two of his fingers, “Palogi’s think this is enough cassava!”.
With all the food that was being handed out, we wanted to give something back. One Saturday I spent the morning making papaya cakes (my favorite use of papaya) with lemon frosting. We cut the cakes into small pieces and took it, along with lollies into the village. We created quite the mob scene once word got around. I think we managed to give every adult some cake, and every child a lollie pop! We were sure popular after that! The following Saturday, Chris noticed all the villagers out fishing on their bamboo rafts. He hopped in the dinghy to fish as well. He caught a large Wahoo (a really good fish), and after cleaning it, gave a piece to everyone who was out fishing, as well as a piece to the Chief & Minister. We also had Fred & Sera out to our boat for dinner. I served leftover Chinese Chicken Salad along with Papaya Curry w/ rice. I guess it was a big hit because Sera later told her sister that the food was “like in the magazines”! Fred really like the flavored tea I served after dinner, and so before we departed I left them with a few bags of their own.
And we can’t forget about Koko. The first (and probably last) live chicken that I bought! On our first Sunday in Naviqiri we went with the Minister into a nearby settlement for church & lunch. Later, when we were sitting around (the men and some women drinking grog), we learned that one of the ladies sold chickens ($10). Not having a freezer, we hadn’t had fresh meat in some time, so chicken was sounding pretty good. Julie (Shadowfax) and I spent a good deal of time ensuring that I would be no part of the killing or cleaning of the chicken. That the chicken would be ‘delivered’ fully dead, with no head, feet, feathers, or guts. No problem. Since we didn’t want to eat the chicken right away, and since the settlement was a bit of a drive from Naviqiri, Seraia said she would take care of the chicken in Naviqiri until we were ready for it. The lady went off to fetch the chicken and a few minutes later she called over to me as she lifted a (live) hen up and then threw it into the back of the truck. When it came time for us to leave, there was this hen, sitting in the middle of the back of the truck, staring out at us; and boy did she looked pissed! Eight of us crawled into the back along with the chicken for the bumpy ride back. The poor thing was bouncing and sliding all over the place! At some point along the way I decided I needed to name it (I don’t know why). I thought I was being clever when I named it Koko. I was thinking that the Fijian word for food was kokona, however I realized a bit later that food is really kakana … but naming my chicken Kaka just didn’t sound good, so we stayed with Koko. The locals got a kick out of the Palagi’s and their chicken Koko. I’m quite sure they don’t bother naming their chickens! About four days later I decided we were ready for Koko. Chris was walking to Sera’s house to pick up his shoes for rugby when he past Koko stealing coconut from between the paws of a dog. “Koko?” he asked Seraia, who was standing nearby. “Io” (yes), she said. Just a few minutes later he is walking back to the rugby field when he sees Seraia holding a headless chicken by its legs dunking it in and out of boiling water. “Uh, Koko?” he asked. “Io.” The next day, more than one person in the village asked me, “How was Koko?”. I’m sure they were thinking, crazy chicken-naming Palagi! Koko did spark an interesting conversation between Sera and I, as I tried to explain that the majority of Americans did not grow their own food, that we had huge grocery markets where we purchased everything from vegetables and fruits to meats. And because of this I had never owned, killed, or cleaned a chicken, rather I had always purchased them from a store. She found this quite interesting.
In addition to all the food, there was a lot of grog (kava). It seemed every time we walked passed a house we heard, "Come in, Come in ... have a bowl ... just one bowl!". It is so hard to say no to them, even if grog tastes like dirty water! Some of the grog parties were more formal, served in celebration or as part of an event or even fundraisers. Other times, it was enjoyed much as one might enjoy a cold beer at the end of a working day ... only it seemed many of the villagers partook in grog at any hour.
Hikes
Eating all this food, we really needed some exercise! Besides our first walk with Sera & Sereia, we went for two other significant hikes. One was up to a point known as Monkey Face. Most of the walk was along a dry dirt (hot) road. The walk took us to the fields where the locals were planting pine trees. As we neared we could hear them calling out to us; “Hey … Hey!”. An extremely steep incline took us up to a point that offered outstanding views and looked over the work the locals were doing. It took about one minute before all the workers came up to say hi. Many of the workers were from the neighboring village, but some were also from Naviqiri. Although you’d think we’d be getting used to it, we were amazed that these people would want to meet us, that they would come out and greet us. We once again got that crazy Palagi look when we turned down their offer for a ride back to the village, explaining that we wanted to enjoy the view and get some exercise. After all, they pretty much get the view everyday, and between working the fields and walking everywhere, they get plenty of exercise … who would want to walk just to walk?
The following day Sera and Freddie took us in the opposite direction to Sera’s brother’s bush house. A small thatched hut he uses when he’s working his land. More terrific views, and wonderful company. We could spend days exploring the lands surrounding Naviqiri!
Work, Crafts, and Culture
When we weren’t hiking, playing, or eating, we tried to further ingrain ourselves into their culture by spending time in the village, doing whatever the locals were doing, or just hanging out.
Chris spent part of a day helping some of the men build a traditional Fijian house. Unfortunately he pulled his back doing so, but he didn’t seem to mind – he was just happy that he could help out. The men he helped were quite surprised when Chris showed up, picked up a shovel and starting digging! And they were thrilled when I came by to take everyone’s picture. When the house was finished, they made sure to find Chris and tell him to come look.
He spent another morning taking a few of the locals out fishing in the dinghy (he was known as quite the fisherman after his wahoo catch). Unfortunately we were almost out of fuel so he couldn’t fish too long, but they were able to catch a couple of decent sized fish and everyone came away smiling.
I’m sure Chris stirred up some waves when he came in with me to do laundry. Naviqiri has a really good water source, so we asked permission to bring in some of our savasava (washing). Whenever we have a few huge piles (such was the case) Chris helps me, usually scrubbing or wringing. We set ourselves up near the tap, and the women’s jaws just about hit the floor when Chris actually started scrubbing laundry. A couple of women kept trying to offer to help and a few tried to actually pull Chris away from the laundry. But we stuck to our guns and soon a few of the women were actually pointing out Chris to some of the men, and later told me, “Yes, I think it’s good the men help with laundry!” In typical Fijian fashion, no matter how much we said no we couldn’t keep them from helping us, pretty soon Sera just ignored me and sat down and started scrubbing. I’m not complaining, with their help it was one of the fastest hand washings I’ve ever done!
I spent one evening helping a group of women process voivoi. After Pandanus leaves (a tree that reminds me of something from a Dr. Seuss book) are stripped of any spiny edges and dried, they are rolled and pounded (to help make them flat and flexible). These dried leaves are known as voivoi. One group of women take the long pieces of voivoi, and tightly wrap them around their hands. These are thrown into a pile where another group of women unroll them, and bundle a bunch of them together. The bundles are then pounded with a heavy club. They spend hours doing this in order to get enough material for basket & mat weaving. Within the first thirty minutes of rolling voivoi (my job), my hands were aching and my butt was numb (from sitting on the floor). I managed to stay for a couple of hours, all the while becoming more and more impressed with their patience and strength.
A few days later I found myself once again sitting on a mat, this time using a knife to strip off the green leafy part from the individual strands of a coconut palm. Once peeled you are left with the straight, stiff center. Fasten enough of these together and you now have a broom. When I first saw these brooms I wasn’t overly impressed. After an entire day of helping; fingers and butt becoming sore, I realized just how much work went into their creation. Sera was nice enough to give me one of the brooms we made. Of course after all that work I can’t every imagine actually using the broom, God forbid it should get ruined!
The best part of these days was talking with the locals. As I sat with Sera and Grandma making brooms (we tended to call the woman elders in Sera & Freddie's family Grandma), Sera and I discussed the different ways of Fijians and Americans. When I asked how they decided where to build their house, the answer was obvious, their house was close to both her mother’s and Freddie’s (her husband) mother’s house. This way they could help take care of them as they got older. Of course she wanted to know what happens with the ‘elders’ in America. She was especially interested because it seemed so strange to her (and everyone) when we initially explained how far away Chris lived from his parents (and that this distance was common for a lot of families). They had no idea that the two coasts of America were over 3,000 miles apart! I found it difficult explaining elder homes / care centers to someone from a culture where the family unit fully looks after each other, where family values are so deeply ingrained.
It was just a few days prior when somehow the topic of homeless people had come up with another local, who was visiting us aboard Billabong. I doubt I’ll ever forget the confused look on his face as he asked, “Where are their families?” ... he couldn't even comprehend the idea of someone living without a home, because of course their family would take care of them. Chris and I didn’t have an answer.
Some conversations were quite humorous. One day we were talking about coconuts; Chris is really into his coconut trees, amazed by the whole process, the different types of coconuts, and their various uses. It seems he’s always asking questions and coconut hunting. While discussing coconuts with a few of the locals, he happened to mention that prior to cruising he’d never really realized what a real coconut looked like (with husk and all, not just the round brown-black ball w/ ‘eyes’). You should’ve seen all the weird looks he got, how could anyone not know what a coconut looks like? Of course we then felt obligated to explain that in America coconut trees didn’t just grow in abundance, and in fact there are actually places where people plant the tree for decoration, rather then food!!! There was quite a bit of laughter at that one!
I spent a lot of my village time trying to learn a few Fijian words. I discovered I can do about two words a day, as long as I keep using them in a sentence. Everyone in the village loved it when any of the Palagi’s would use a Fijian word. They not only got a good laugh (which wasn’t entirely encouraging when you’re the one trying to get it right!), but also thought it was special and respectful that we were trying so hard. The only problem with saying anything in Fijian, is that the Grandma’s and the smaller children seemed to think that meant you spoke fluent Fijian, and the next thing I knew they’d be talking a mile a minute to me (in Fijian), while I just smiled and said “Io” (yes) a lot! Luckily I never agreed to anything that got me in trouble!!! Sera knew I was trying to learn new words, so she would tell me the Fijian word for objects all the time. One day we were sitting around in her house (having a rest, as they like to say), and Little Freddie brought me a pillow. Sera says to me (or at least what I heard was), “Fijians are Loco-loco”. I was dumbfounded for a good minute, is she really telling me Fijians are crazy? After some stammering and repeating, I finally figured out she was telling me that in Fijian pillow is locoloco. I then just had to explain why I was so confused, I told her that in Spanish the word loco means crazy and that I thought she was telling me they were crazy! She had a good laugh, and when I came into the village the next day it seemed EVERYONE in the village knew about the Loco loco Fijians!
We also tried to visit Vani, Sera's sister, everyday. Vani is only twenty-three and has spent the last seven years confined to bed. Her family says she has arthritis and that is why she can't walk and can barely sit up, but after our first visit we think she more likely has something like M.S. She has a brilliant, perfect smile and speaks outstanding English. She's filled with energy and spirit despite her condition. She looked forward to our daily visit and many times would write us notes, which her mother would deliver to us. You really start to get a feel for the isolation of the village when talking to Vani and her family about her condition. We learned that a doctor had been to see her ... seven years ago. It sounds as if he basically diagnosed her with arthritis and then disappeared. Vani is the only one in her village with this severe condition and prior to a cruising couple's visit the previous year she had thought she "was the only one in the world with this condition". Due to lack of knowledge & medical facilities she is confined to bed 24 hours a day. Our guess is that if she had access to decent medical she would probably be mobile, even if disabled. We racked our brains for a way to build some type of wheel chair, but just didn't have the right materials. We also weren't a hundred percent sure she would've every used the chair ... one Saturday we offered to move her out to the play field, where she could lay on a mat w/ pillows and visit with Julie and I while watching the games. She didn't want to ... talking with her later we determined she was part scared and part embarrassed, in her house & bed she at least felt 'safe'.
Goodbyes
With so much going on everyday it seemed like a blink of an eye and before we knew it two weeks had gone by. Wanting to give something back to the village we racked our brains and decided on a photo/visitor's book. Everyone in the village loved getting their photo taken, and then looking at the picture on the camera's viewfinder. We couldn't possible print a picture for everyone, and fearing that we'd leave someone out, decided that a serious of collages would be best. Chris then suggest we put the pictures into a three ringed binder, add paper, and turn it into a visitor's book that future cruisers could add to. Chris presented the loloma (gift) to the village during Church. After Church as we went around visiting with various families, Chris grabbed the book and walked it around the village to make sure they understood what it was. People excitedly gathered around the book laughing and pointing at the pictures. We had made a huge attempt to ensure that the majority of people were included, and from the smiling faces I think we were successful!
On Tuesday (August 16th) we went in with Shadowfax to say goodbye. We walked to every house giving hugs and handshakes. We then joined everyone for a final playtime before heading back to the boats. There were quite a few tears and many solemn faces, this was a hard place to leave. To make matters worse we also had to say goodbye to Shadowfax, our buddy boat for the last two months. We hoped to hook up again with them on the west side of Fiji, but weren't sure of the timing, and if we missed them, then this would be our last goodbye. Shadowfax would be returning to NZ, while we would be heading north towards the Marshall Islands.
Before leaving on Wednesday morning, Chris and I went in quickly to pick up a gift from Sera - she had woven us a small mat with Billabong woven in the center in black voivoi. While visiting with Sera and her family, Shadowfax pulled anchor, sounding their air horn for a final goodbye. We saw a lot of people coming out of their homes, waving shirts and rags into the air, tears flowing. Many of them grabbed mirrors and used the sun to send reflected flashes out to Shadowfax. Shortly after, Chris and I gave a few final hugs ... I practically had to man handled one of the Grandmas in order to get her to let go of me. On the bright side, since we were heading to the Marshall's, we would be returning to Fiji the following year and we promised to visit Naviqiri again. At this point everyone was telling us that we should build a home in their village, some place we could come and visit and bring our own families to ... they had just about picked the build site and Sera had already offered to take care of the house while we were away. It is something that we are seriously thinking about!
As we pulled anchored, we too sounded our air horn. We could see some people on the beach, so we frantically waved our own clothing into the air to say goodbye. Chris got out a mirror and reflected signals back to the village. It took us about two hours to get out of eye sight of Naviqiri Village, and during that entire two hours they were continuously reflecting the sun to us off of their mirrors ... and Chris right back to them.
We are unbelievable lucky to have had such a terrific experience ... I doubt they know how much they have influenced Chris and I. I truly believe that they have sparked a positive change in Chris and I, and I only hope that we could hold onto that spark.
Arrival
The bay of Naurore was dotted with locals fishing with hand lines from bamboo rafts. We had barely set the anchor when a couple of these bamboo rafts started making their way towards us. “BULA! BULA!”, yelled out two women from one of the rafts as they neared Billabong. “BULA!”, we smiled back. As the raft bumped up against our transom step one of the ladies (Sio) hopped aboard. While we think the Fijian’s openness and sharing is terrific, it is sometimes hard for us to get used to this “open door policy”. We have to remind ourselves that in their culture visiting one another, entering other’s homes, does not always require an invitation (or knocking), people come and go as they please. It’s something that we’d have to adjust to over the next two weeks in Naviqiri. We helped Sera (the other lady) tie up the raft and come aboard. A few minutes later another bamboo raft appeared and Luke joined us as well. I was beginning to think it was going to be a downright party when I noticed a few more rafts paddling towards Billabong, but our guests yelled out a few words in Fijian and the rafts headed for Shadowfax instead. Sio was one of the more pushy and grabby Fijians we’ve met; just picking up anything and everything in the cockpit and eventually putting on Chris’s reef walkers (we're pretty sure she would've walked away with them if we hadn't said something when she left!).
Luke didn’t seem to speak much English but had a terrific (mostly toothless) smile and seemed to just enjoy hanging in the cockpit. Sera was more reserved but quite curious about us. She asked all kinds of questions about our boat, where we’d been in Fiji, and especially about Chris and I and our relationship. In most of the South Pacific Islands that we have visited, including Fiji, we’ve found it easier to just let people assume we’re married … this fits in better with some of the conservative cultures and saves us from any lengthy explanations. However, we didn’t really go out of the way to tell people this, we just didn’t correct people when they referred to our husband or wife. Sera however was so curious that it was becoming difficult to be sly. Hating to lie, I tried a number of avoidance tactics; when she asked me how long Chris and I had been married, I replied, “Oh, Chris and I have been together for 3 years.” When she asked when [date] we got married, I ignored the question and asked, “When did you get married?”. We went round about like this for a few more minutes before I finally caved and starting making stuff up.
At this point Chris was forward with our other two guests, so I was talking loudly to ensure we’d be on the same page should he be asked anything later on. By the time Sera was finished with me, we had married in Nov 2002, at a lovely beach ceremony with all our friends and family. I was lucky that she didn’t ask for photos!!! I was getting some weird side glances from Chris as he was talking to Sio & Luke (and overhearing me), but he was smart enough not to question anything. I learned that Sera had been married for nine years, and while she wants children has yet to have any (not by choice). Hearing this and knowing what children mean in the Fijian culture my heart went out to her.
We had a good visit with our new friends before they headed out for more fishing and we cleaned up for our Sevusevu with the chief.
Welcome
When we first came ashore just outside the village things seemed a bit dicey. A young man was standing on the beach watching us approach. uncharacteristic to Fijians, he was not smiling or yelling out Bula. As the four of us clamored out of the dinghy and cheerfully said BULA, he still didn’t smile or talk.
Turaga ni Koro: The village spokesman. Unlike the chief (who inherits the position), the Turaga ni Koro is voted into position by the villagers. Typically, any business with the chief is conducted through or in coordination with the spokesman (i.e. it would be inappropriate for us to just show up at the chief's house without the Turaga ni Koro or someone of equivalent standing).
And he still said nothing when we asked if he knew where the Turaga ni Koro lived. Uh oh we thought, what kind of village is this? We weren’t to sure what to do, a visitor should not just enter the village on their own, they should be guided/escorted, at least until the Sevusevu has been accepted. Down the beach a bit were three young men, so not having much luck with our current local, we yelled out to them and asked if they knew where the Turaga ni Koro was. One of them finally came forward and said he would lead us to him. Phew! Of course by now we were completely confused about what we would find in the village; on one hand we had a great greeting from the fishermen, but on the other hand, these young men didn’t seem to really want anything to do with us. Well, we later discovered that the first young man, Sakioso, was mentally slow and quite shy ... basically he didn't know what to make of these white people coming ashore! By the end of our visit he would be talking up a storm (mostly in Fijian) and smiling whenever we came near. The other three young men were actually from a different village, and the Turaga ni Koro was away from the village, so these young men weren't sure where to take us! It all made sense afterwards, but sure was awkward in the moment!
Any feelings of doubt were swept away the minute we entered the village. It was truly a mob scene. Everyone came out to greet us and within seconds we were surrounded. Hands were thrust, names exchanged, and smiles shared. I swear I actually saw a few women running down the path to meet us! You’d be shaking one hand while another person tapped you on your right shoulder, just as you turned to shake their hand, someone else would tap your left shoulder, as so it went. It seemed like it took hours just to walk a few feet. We felt famous, like rock stars, surrounded by people who just wanted a glimpse of us, and if lucky an autograph (or in this case a hand shake). It is so hard to comprehend, because who are we to warrant so much attention? … I mean really, we’re nobody, just a couple of white people on “vacation”. But in these out of the way places we are unique, we are different, we are truly from another world – they are honored that we would want to visit their village, their home, of all places. And so we moved along, until we were ushered into one of the homes. Even has we were sitting people streamed in to present their hands to us and introduce themselves. Others gathered at the doorway to watch. Chris & Karl started to put their yaqona out, when I whispered to Chris, “so who’s the chief?”. He didn’t know. Neither did Karl or Julie. Finally Chris asked, and that’s when we learned that this wasn’t the chief’s house, it was just a grog party … it didn’t matter that they’d just met us, we were invited! “We, ‘er, have to go to the chief’s house” we said. “Stay and have some grog”, they told us. But when we asked if that was ‘allowed’ before we had done our Sevusevu, they promptly nominated someone to lead us to the chief’s house, making us promise we'd come back afterwards.
The chief isn’t able to get out of bed much due to severe arthritis in his knees. After shaking hands and introductions we sat on the floor while he propped himself up in his bed. He performed the chants/prayers for the yaqona and introduced us to Elia who then took us on a tour of the village. If we had missed anyone on the way into the village, we met them now. The village has 41 houses, although somewhere between 5 – 10 of those houses are not currently lived in (their owners typically residing/working in Labasa or Suva). After our tour we returned to the grog party which was taking place in Seraia’s house. Not that we like grog much, but a promise is a promise. We donated some pre-ground Waka (kava) to the cause and spent over an hour kicking it on the floor with a huge group of people.
The next morning (Thursday) we were surprised when a few of the villagers arrived at Billabong to check us & the boat out. They excitedly came aboard and stayed, visiting for a couple of hours. After their visit we went ashore with Shadowfax and met up with Sera and Seraia who guided us on walk. The scenery was beautiful and we enjoyed getting to know our ‘guides’. Along the way we ran into the Turaga ni Koro, who, as it turns out, is Sera’s brother. It is interesting to get to know the family relations within the village, you soon discover that although not obvious, there is a definite pecking order. Everyone appears to help anyone, and on the whole the village runs as a terrific sharing community, but it is not without ‘political’ undercurrents. After our walk, which took us up where we could view the neighboring bays and then around past the school, we relaxed under a huge tree, joined by other locals. Chris excitedly waiting for the touch Rugby game to start (which they play every afternoon around four).
Playtime
Afternoon play time became a daily must for us. It was the easiest place to relax and goof off with the locals, especially the children. No matter how sore or run down Chris played touch rugby with the men everyday. In between taking video and pictures, I played games with the children. Learning a few of their games, as well as teaching them some of our own. During one of the rugby games I taught a few of the kids a fight song (Lean to left, lean to the right, stand up, sit down, fight-fight-fight) and The Wave. The wave was especially interesting, because while they did what I told them, I could tell they didn’t get it! I tried to explain to one of the older children (who spoke better English), but, …. well you can just imagine how silly & pointless the wave must seem, especially to someone who hasn’t every seen or been to a large scale sporting event! We also brought in a Frisbee, which everyone from the two year olds to the fifty year olds tossed around. Chris would get them laughing with his behind the back and under the leg throws. The children loved when he’d tell them to “go long” … even after two weeks they never ran far enough. A few of the men would attempt a long throw after seeing Chris, getting laughs all around when the Frisbee went straight into the dirt! By our second week there they had also gotten out a volleyball net which they hoisted between two wooden branches stuck in the ground. They weren’t big on form, but it was huge amounts of fun and they were great at keeping a volley going. Saturday’s were especially fun because all the local children who boarded at the nearby school came home for the weekend. It was hard to keep up with all the activity, we’d return to the boat after dark, hot, dirty and exhausted … but it in our two weeks at Naviqiri we didn’t miss a single afternoon!
School
During our walk with Sera & Seraia, the school headmaster (principal) had invited us back on Friday. So Friday morning, escorted by Sera and two younger children, we headed out for the school. Although this school was also a boarding school, it was much smaller than Cawaro’s. They gathered all the children in one room, and we introduced ourselves … giving the same type of spill that we had in Cawaro. We got the same sort of questions from the children, although we were once again caught of guard by one little boy’s question. He asked, “Our you still fighting with Iraq?”. Living on boats, usually in the middle of nowhere, we aren’t up-to-date on current events, and so Chris responded, “You tell me, are we?” We were even more surprised when a bit later, after one of the children had asked us what religion we were, the teacher mentioned that he was Muslim, and then said, “You must hate all Muslims.” It baffles me that he could think that … even more so it saddens me, because America (as a whole) does seem to find a way to make a lot of things racial. I don’t get it, and we strongly explained that no, we don’t hate all Muslims or any Muslims, we can only blame the specific people for their acts, not an entire culture or religion.
After class, our host (the Muslim teacher), Kamal, and his wife, Rafiza, invited us over to their house for refreshments. They live in a temporary house provided by the school (their ‘real’ home is in Labasa) with their two year old daughter (Zeenia) and Kamal's mother (Kariman). A few days later we also had dinner at their house, with his sister & her two children in attendance. When we arrived, hundred’s of curious eyes peered out at us from the dorms, and as we sat in Kamal's house we could see a number of children gathered outside looking in, trying to get a glimpse of the Palagi’s! Fijian Indians make up over 40% of Fiji’s population, and until dinner with Kamal & his family, we had not had much of a chance to learn about some of the different beliefs and traditions of the Indian population. It was an intriguing new experience for us. Apparently Zeenia likes to watch the video of her parent's wedding, and so we too watched along, learning quite a bit about arranged Muslim weddings. As both Kamal & Rafiza are teachers, we also talked a lot about the education system and the skill levels of the children. And we were thrilled when they served us tasty Indian dishes … Curry & Roti’s … it doesn’t get any better than that!
Food
We had quite a few interesting eating experiences in the village. It seemed that every time we turned around someone was offering us something to eat or drink. Tea is HUGE in Fiji. Typically black tea, with lots and lots of sugar. It takes a bit of getting used to; to drink a steaming hot cup of liquid when you are already sweating profusely! We actually preferred the lemon leaf tea, which was a bit ironic since they would apologize to us for only serving the lemon leaf tea whenever they were out of black tea. Since the black tea cost money, it is considered the fancier and more appropriate tea, especially for white guests. I came in early enough one morning to watch Grandma & Little Freddie eating breakfast … on the menu was cooked rice drowned in tea – eaten like a bowl of cereal. They also love breaking up breakfast crackers (a plain thick white cracker) into their cup of tea.
Cooked taro leaves served in coconut milk or mixed with a can of tuna is also popular. With exception that it is a bit soggy, it is probably one of the easiest things to get down (from a Palagi's point of view). When Sera served us lunch of taro mixed with tuna and cassava, we felt a twinge a guilt knowing that she had purchased the tuna especially for us. In most villages they live mainly off of what they can grow or catch, spending little or no money. Many of the villagers do not work on a regular basis, but rather a day here and there as needed to make a few dollars. For a full days work, the average Fijian makes about $10 F a day (that’s about $6.00 US)! And still, they continue to give, no matter how little they might have.
Sunday lunch (after church) is a big event as well. This is probably their fanciest meal of the week, and when they are most likely to use more valued food products (like fish or store bought items). You will always be invited for a Sunday meal at someone’s home. Of course cassava and taro leaves are still the main staples, but you are also likely to get fresh fish or octopus cooked in coconut milk. I wasn’t brave enough to go for the octopus, it just looked to much like … well, like an octopus! Chris did, and found it a bit chewy. It was really quite funny when he was trying to get some down and looked over and saw a little boy sucking down octopus tentacles just like spaghetti. The little boy had a couple of tentacles, with suction cups and all, hanging out of his mouth and slapping against his cheeks as he sucked them in. At any minute you expected the suction cups to adhere to his cheeks!
It was during one of these Sunday lunches that we discovered cassava is best smothered in lime juice and salt, although still far from good! It was also when we learned that the plate you are given (usually there is a dinner sized plate, along with a bowl) is used just for cassava (everything else goes into the bowl). Our plates looked a little silly with the measly amount of cassava we usually took. The Fijian’s on the other hand loaded their plates full with mounds of cassava. One afternoon even the preacher made fun of us, when he said, showing us two of his fingers, “Palogi’s think this is enough cassava!”.
With all the food that was being handed out, we wanted to give something back. One Saturday I spent the morning making papaya cakes (my favorite use of papaya) with lemon frosting. We cut the cakes into small pieces and took it, along with lollies into the village. We created quite the mob scene once word got around. I think we managed to give every adult some cake, and every child a lollie pop! We were sure popular after that! The following Saturday, Chris noticed all the villagers out fishing on their bamboo rafts. He hopped in the dinghy to fish as well. He caught a large Wahoo (a really good fish), and after cleaning it, gave a piece to everyone who was out fishing, as well as a piece to the Chief & Minister. We also had Fred & Sera out to our boat for dinner. I served leftover Chinese Chicken Salad along with Papaya Curry w/ rice. I guess it was a big hit because Sera later told her sister that the food was “like in the magazines”! Fred really like the flavored tea I served after dinner, and so before we departed I left them with a few bags of their own.
And we can’t forget about Koko. The first (and probably last) live chicken that I bought! On our first Sunday in Naviqiri we went with the Minister into a nearby settlement for church & lunch. Later, when we were sitting around (the men and some women drinking grog), we learned that one of the ladies sold chickens ($10). Not having a freezer, we hadn’t had fresh meat in some time, so chicken was sounding pretty good. Julie (Shadowfax) and I spent a good deal of time ensuring that I would be no part of the killing or cleaning of the chicken. That the chicken would be ‘delivered’ fully dead, with no head, feet, feathers, or guts. No problem. Since we didn’t want to eat the chicken right away, and since the settlement was a bit of a drive from Naviqiri, Seraia said she would take care of the chicken in Naviqiri until we were ready for it. The lady went off to fetch the chicken and a few minutes later she called over to me as she lifted a (live) hen up and then threw it into the back of the truck. When it came time for us to leave, there was this hen, sitting in the middle of the back of the truck, staring out at us; and boy did she looked pissed! Eight of us crawled into the back along with the chicken for the bumpy ride back. The poor thing was bouncing and sliding all over the place! At some point along the way I decided I needed to name it (I don’t know why). I thought I was being clever when I named it Koko. I was thinking that the Fijian word for food was kokona, however I realized a bit later that food is really kakana … but naming my chicken Kaka just didn’t sound good, so we stayed with Koko. The locals got a kick out of the Palagi’s and their chicken Koko. I’m quite sure they don’t bother naming their chickens! About four days later I decided we were ready for Koko. Chris was walking to Sera’s house to pick up his shoes for rugby when he past Koko stealing coconut from between the paws of a dog. “Koko?” he asked Seraia, who was standing nearby. “Io” (yes), she said. Just a few minutes later he is walking back to the rugby field when he sees Seraia holding a headless chicken by its legs dunking it in and out of boiling water. “Uh, Koko?” he asked. “Io.” The next day, more than one person in the village asked me, “How was Koko?”. I’m sure they were thinking, crazy chicken-naming Palagi! Koko did spark an interesting conversation between Sera and I, as I tried to explain that the majority of Americans did not grow their own food, that we had huge grocery markets where we purchased everything from vegetables and fruits to meats. And because of this I had never owned, killed, or cleaned a chicken, rather I had always purchased them from a store. She found this quite interesting.
In addition to all the food, there was a lot of grog (kava). It seemed every time we walked passed a house we heard, "Come in, Come in ... have a bowl ... just one bowl!". It is so hard to say no to them, even if grog tastes like dirty water! Some of the grog parties were more formal, served in celebration or as part of an event or even fundraisers. Other times, it was enjoyed much as one might enjoy a cold beer at the end of a working day ... only it seemed many of the villagers partook in grog at any hour.
Hikes
Eating all this food, we really needed some exercise! Besides our first walk with Sera & Sereia, we went for two other significant hikes. One was up to a point known as Monkey Face. Most of the walk was along a dry dirt (hot) road. The walk took us to the fields where the locals were planting pine trees. As we neared we could hear them calling out to us; “Hey … Hey!”. An extremely steep incline took us up to a point that offered outstanding views and looked over the work the locals were doing. It took about one minute before all the workers came up to say hi. Many of the workers were from the neighboring village, but some were also from Naviqiri. Although you’d think we’d be getting used to it, we were amazed that these people would want to meet us, that they would come out and greet us. We once again got that crazy Palagi look when we turned down their offer for a ride back to the village, explaining that we wanted to enjoy the view and get some exercise. After all, they pretty much get the view everyday, and between working the fields and walking everywhere, they get plenty of exercise … who would want to walk just to walk?
The following day Sera and Freddie took us in the opposite direction to Sera’s brother’s bush house. A small thatched hut he uses when he’s working his land. More terrific views, and wonderful company. We could spend days exploring the lands surrounding Naviqiri!
Work, Crafts, and Culture
When we weren’t hiking, playing, or eating, we tried to further ingrain ourselves into their culture by spending time in the village, doing whatever the locals were doing, or just hanging out.
Chris spent part of a day helping some of the men build a traditional Fijian house. Unfortunately he pulled his back doing so, but he didn’t seem to mind – he was just happy that he could help out. The men he helped were quite surprised when Chris showed up, picked up a shovel and starting digging! And they were thrilled when I came by to take everyone’s picture. When the house was finished, they made sure to find Chris and tell him to come look.
He spent another morning taking a few of the locals out fishing in the dinghy (he was known as quite the fisherman after his wahoo catch). Unfortunately we were almost out of fuel so he couldn’t fish too long, but they were able to catch a couple of decent sized fish and everyone came away smiling.
I’m sure Chris stirred up some waves when he came in with me to do laundry. Naviqiri has a really good water source, so we asked permission to bring in some of our savasava (washing). Whenever we have a few huge piles (such was the case) Chris helps me, usually scrubbing or wringing. We set ourselves up near the tap, and the women’s jaws just about hit the floor when Chris actually started scrubbing laundry. A couple of women kept trying to offer to help and a few tried to actually pull Chris away from the laundry. But we stuck to our guns and soon a few of the women were actually pointing out Chris to some of the men, and later told me, “Yes, I think it’s good the men help with laundry!” In typical Fijian fashion, no matter how much we said no we couldn’t keep them from helping us, pretty soon Sera just ignored me and sat down and started scrubbing. I’m not complaining, with their help it was one of the fastest hand washings I’ve ever done!
I spent one evening helping a group of women process voivoi. After Pandanus leaves (a tree that reminds me of something from a Dr. Seuss book) are stripped of any spiny edges and dried, they are rolled and pounded (to help make them flat and flexible). These dried leaves are known as voivoi. One group of women take the long pieces of voivoi, and tightly wrap them around their hands. These are thrown into a pile where another group of women unroll them, and bundle a bunch of them together. The bundles are then pounded with a heavy club. They spend hours doing this in order to get enough material for basket & mat weaving. Within the first thirty minutes of rolling voivoi (my job), my hands were aching and my butt was numb (from sitting on the floor). I managed to stay for a couple of hours, all the while becoming more and more impressed with their patience and strength.
A few days later I found myself once again sitting on a mat, this time using a knife to strip off the green leafy part from the individual strands of a coconut palm. Once peeled you are left with the straight, stiff center. Fasten enough of these together and you now have a broom. When I first saw these brooms I wasn’t overly impressed. After an entire day of helping; fingers and butt becoming sore, I realized just how much work went into their creation. Sera was nice enough to give me one of the brooms we made. Of course after all that work I can’t every imagine actually using the broom, God forbid it should get ruined!
The best part of these days was talking with the locals. As I sat with Sera and Grandma making brooms (we tended to call the woman elders in Sera & Freddie's family Grandma), Sera and I discussed the different ways of Fijians and Americans. When I asked how they decided where to build their house, the answer was obvious, their house was close to both her mother’s and Freddie’s (her husband) mother’s house. This way they could help take care of them as they got older. Of course she wanted to know what happens with the ‘elders’ in America. She was especially interested because it seemed so strange to her (and everyone) when we initially explained how far away Chris lived from his parents (and that this distance was common for a lot of families). They had no idea that the two coasts of America were over 3,000 miles apart! I found it difficult explaining elder homes / care centers to someone from a culture where the family unit fully looks after each other, where family values are so deeply ingrained.
It was just a few days prior when somehow the topic of homeless people had come up with another local, who was visiting us aboard Billabong. I doubt I’ll ever forget the confused look on his face as he asked, “Where are their families?” ... he couldn't even comprehend the idea of someone living without a home, because of course their family would take care of them. Chris and I didn’t have an answer.
Some conversations were quite humorous. One day we were talking about coconuts; Chris is really into his coconut trees, amazed by the whole process, the different types of coconuts, and their various uses. It seems he’s always asking questions and coconut hunting. While discussing coconuts with a few of the locals, he happened to mention that prior to cruising he’d never really realized what a real coconut looked like (with husk and all, not just the round brown-black ball w/ ‘eyes’). You should’ve seen all the weird looks he got, how could anyone not know what a coconut looks like? Of course we then felt obligated to explain that in America coconut trees didn’t just grow in abundance, and in fact there are actually places where people plant the tree for decoration, rather then food!!! There was quite a bit of laughter at that one!
I spent a lot of my village time trying to learn a few Fijian words. I discovered I can do about two words a day, as long as I keep using them in a sentence. Everyone in the village loved it when any of the Palagi’s would use a Fijian word. They not only got a good laugh (which wasn’t entirely encouraging when you’re the one trying to get it right!), but also thought it was special and respectful that we were trying so hard. The only problem with saying anything in Fijian, is that the Grandma’s and the smaller children seemed to think that meant you spoke fluent Fijian, and the next thing I knew they’d be talking a mile a minute to me (in Fijian), while I just smiled and said “Io” (yes) a lot! Luckily I never agreed to anything that got me in trouble!!! Sera knew I was trying to learn new words, so she would tell me the Fijian word for objects all the time. One day we were sitting around in her house (having a rest, as they like to say), and Little Freddie brought me a pillow. Sera says to me (or at least what I heard was), “Fijians are Loco-loco”. I was dumbfounded for a good minute, is she really telling me Fijians are crazy? After some stammering and repeating, I finally figured out she was telling me that in Fijian pillow is locoloco. I then just had to explain why I was so confused, I told her that in Spanish the word loco means crazy and that I thought she was telling me they were crazy! She had a good laugh, and when I came into the village the next day it seemed EVERYONE in the village knew about the Loco loco Fijians!
We also tried to visit Vani, Sera's sister, everyday. Vani is only twenty-three and has spent the last seven years confined to bed. Her family says she has arthritis and that is why she can't walk and can barely sit up, but after our first visit we think she more likely has something like M.S. She has a brilliant, perfect smile and speaks outstanding English. She's filled with energy and spirit despite her condition. She looked forward to our daily visit and many times would write us notes, which her mother would deliver to us. You really start to get a feel for the isolation of the village when talking to Vani and her family about her condition. We learned that a doctor had been to see her ... seven years ago. It sounds as if he basically diagnosed her with arthritis and then disappeared. Vani is the only one in her village with this severe condition and prior to a cruising couple's visit the previous year she had thought she "was the only one in the world with this condition". Due to lack of knowledge & medical facilities she is confined to bed 24 hours a day. Our guess is that if she had access to decent medical she would probably be mobile, even if disabled. We racked our brains for a way to build some type of wheel chair, but just didn't have the right materials. We also weren't a hundred percent sure she would've every used the chair ... one Saturday we offered to move her out to the play field, where she could lay on a mat w/ pillows and visit with Julie and I while watching the games. She didn't want to ... talking with her later we determined she was part scared and part embarrassed, in her house & bed she at least felt 'safe'.
Goodbyes
With so much going on everyday it seemed like a blink of an eye and before we knew it two weeks had gone by. Wanting to give something back to the village we racked our brains and decided on a photo/visitor's book. Everyone in the village loved getting their photo taken, and then looking at the picture on the camera's viewfinder. We couldn't possible print a picture for everyone, and fearing that we'd leave someone out, decided that a serious of collages would be best. Chris then suggest we put the pictures into a three ringed binder, add paper, and turn it into a visitor's book that future cruisers could add to. Chris presented the loloma (gift) to the village during Church. After Church as we went around visiting with various families, Chris grabbed the book and walked it around the village to make sure they understood what it was. People excitedly gathered around the book laughing and pointing at the pictures. We had made a huge attempt to ensure that the majority of people were included, and from the smiling faces I think we were successful!
On Tuesday (August 16th) we went in with Shadowfax to say goodbye. We walked to every house giving hugs and handshakes. We then joined everyone for a final playtime before heading back to the boats. There were quite a few tears and many solemn faces, this was a hard place to leave. To make matters worse we also had to say goodbye to Shadowfax, our buddy boat for the last two months. We hoped to hook up again with them on the west side of Fiji, but weren't sure of the timing, and if we missed them, then this would be our last goodbye. Shadowfax would be returning to NZ, while we would be heading north towards the Marshall Islands.
Before leaving on Wednesday morning, Chris and I went in quickly to pick up a gift from Sera - she had woven us a small mat with Billabong woven in the center in black voivoi. While visiting with Sera and her family, Shadowfax pulled anchor, sounding their air horn for a final goodbye. We saw a lot of people coming out of their homes, waving shirts and rags into the air, tears flowing. Many of them grabbed mirrors and used the sun to send reflected flashes out to Shadowfax. Shortly after, Chris and I gave a few final hugs ... I practically had to man handled one of the Grandmas in order to get her to let go of me. On the bright side, since we were heading to the Marshall's, we would be returning to Fiji the following year and we promised to visit Naviqiri again. At this point everyone was telling us that we should build a home in their village, some place we could come and visit and bring our own families to ... they had just about picked the build site and Sera had already offered to take care of the house while we were away. It is something that we are seriously thinking about!
As we pulled anchored, we too sounded our air horn. We could see some people on the beach, so we frantically waved our own clothing into the air to say goodbye. Chris got out a mirror and reflected signals back to the village. It took us about two hours to get out of eye sight of Naviqiri Village, and during that entire two hours they were continuously reflecting the sun to us off of their mirrors ... and Chris right back to them.
We are unbelievable lucky to have had such a terrific experience ... I doubt they know how much they have influenced Chris and I. I truly believe that they have sparked a positive change in Chris and I, and I only hope that we could hold onto that spark.
Kayıtlar
