ALIESHA     

 Part 2—The Voyage Home

Chapter 3 Fun in Fiji

Savusavu

Savusavu is called "Fiji's Hidden Paradise".   It lies along Nakama Creek, a single street, perhaps three quarters of a mile long, lined with all kinds of shops, three banks, assorted restaurants, a bus station and, of course, the market.   It is a bustling, happy place where Melanesian and Indian Fijians appear to live together in harmony and where we felt both safe and welcome.  Behind the street the ground rises several hundred metres to a ridge topped with dense vegetation and all kinds of trees, a vivid green for all it was the end of the "dry" season. In front there is the creek and beyond, little islands and then the wide sweep of Savusavu Bay

If the Copra Shed is the physical centre of Savusavu,  then its presiding guru is Curley Carswell, a tall former Kiwi, now a Fijian national.  Curly runs Curly's Crusing Bosun's Locker, another source of information and inspiration during your stay.  At 0830 every morning, he broadcasts a 30 minute information net on the VHF radio, modelling his style on "Good Morning, Vietnam", for those who remember that film.   He runs seminars on such topics as how to behave correctly when visiting a Fijian Village (sub-titled "How to stay out of the pot").  Lusi, one of his staff, runs a weekly seminar on cooking with local ingredients and Pam has added vegetable curry and roti to her repertoire with great success.   He makes and sells fishing lures that are guaranteed to catch fish (they do).

We soon felt at home.  Myt priority was to get hold of a replacement shroud, which in the end meant going back to the  firm in Chichester who had re-rigged ALIESHA in 2000.  It took two weeks and cost rather a lot in courier fees but eventually the shroud arrived  and we were able to go sailing again.  Meanwhile Pam had busied herself with laundering all our cold weather clothes and packing them away.  We expect to be in warm weather until we return to the UK!

And there were the parties.  First, in came Chris and Heather on HALO.  We had fitted out our boats together in Chichester in 2000 and 2001, had left within 4 weeks of each other, had crossed the Atlantic together, but parted company in March 2002, we to go north to Maine and they to go through Panama and across to Hawaii and then to Alaska.  You can imagine there was a lot of catching up to do.

There was Dick's 62nd Birthday, held at the Yacht Club on a rainy night but it didn't dampen our spirits, especially as old friends on KIPONA, CAPENSIS and SUNDANCE had arrived and joined in, along with several new acquaintances from the cruising fleet.

There was the Fijian dinner at the Bula Re restaurant, where the food was cooked on hot stones in a hole in the ground. A local string band (well, three guitars, actually, but that's what they call them) played, sang gentle harmonies and glugged kava to keep them going.

And all the time it rained.  Until, one day when we had been there almost three weeks, the sun shone and we went cruising, north east along the south coast of Vanua Levu.   

North to Rabi Island  (See Chart)  

Our first stop was Fawn Harbour, a tranquil spot where we met up with Rob and Meg on X-TO-SEA, last seen in Great Barrier Island, NZ in January.  Also with us was CARIAD, single-handed by Tony, a fellow Brit.  Next day we left in company with CARIAD and so were close by when his motor packed up, leaving him drifting in little wind and close to the fringing reefs.  Soon we had him tied alongside and went on towards Vianni Bay.   We would have towed him all the way but then a breeze sprang up and we cast him loose, sailing in company to make sure we could provide help again if it were needed.

Vianni Bay is beautiful and supports a few families, all part of the Fisher clan.  Old man Fisher, now long gone, was English and came to Fiji to farm copra, the dried form of the coconut.  He was clearly a lusty man, as he produced nine sons by various local ladies  and to each of them he gave a piece of land around the Bay and the neighbouring coast.  These sons too begat prodigious numbers of offspring and these were the people we met when we went ashore.   We were impressed by the school they had founded, now mostly funded by the Government.  It had four teachers, about 70 pupils, all neat in blue uniforms and impeccably behaved, at least while we were there.

Jack Fisher works with visiting yachts.  He offered to take us to a spot on the outlying reef where we could snorkel and dive as well, if we wanted.  We agreed on an early start the next day and also to take up his offer of a free mooring the other side of the Bay.  When we went to raise the anchor, we found it had become looped around a coral head, or "bommie" and, try as we would, we could not free it.

Back in January I had purchased a set of diving gear against just such an emergency but had yet to try it.   With the wind and the waves rising and coral only a few yards behind us, I had no option but to don BCD and tank, regulator, mask and fins and to go down to investigate.   The water was only 15 metres deep, but was quite murky and soon silt stirred up by my fins made it impossible to see anything.  Working by feel, I managed to unwrap the chain while Pam motored gently ahead to take the weight off the anchor.  Not the ideal way to start a new season of diving but it worked!  The only problem was that the coral cuts and grazes I collected all went septic and a double course of antibiotics was needed to clear it up.

The following day was perfect and we snorkeled the reef with Jack Fisher acting as minder from the dinghy.  Then I finished off his tank of air with a solo dive, once again mentored by Jack who, he told us, "used to earn a living free diving to spear fish and who would go down and fetch him up if he was in any bother".

Next morning we set sail again, this time inside the reefs northwards to the island of Rabi.  This is not truly a part of Fiji but belongs to the people from Ocean Island, in the former Ellis Islands.  Ocean Island was heavily mined for phosphates by the British until it became uninhabitable and the locals, called Barnabans, were given the means to buy Rabi from the Fijians and resettled there just after World War 2.   (We had never heard of this but felt it reflected badly on our colonial past.  The Barnabans we met seemed not to bear a grudge!)

Being semi-independent, Rabi requires visitors to check in with their own police force and then we were free to proceed to our destination, Albert Cove.  This must be one of the loveliest places in the South Pacific, a crescent shaped bay with a white sandy beach, black volcanic rocks peering through the lush vegetation.   The water is an incredible blue, lighter inside the reef, deep indigo outside.

Two Barnaban families live there and we met one of them, breaking the ice by offering a barracuda we had caught on the way there and which we didn't fancy. We were invited inside their simple hut, seated ourselves cross-legged on woven mats and  introduced to the grandfather, his son , the son's wife and two of their four children.   They live a simple life, fishing and picking much of what they needed from their little "garden".  I asked them what they thought the weather might do and we were surprised to be told "we usually get the weather from the radio but we missed it this morning"!  Meanwhile Elton John played from a cassette recorder.  Later we took them some gifts, a T-shirt, some batteries and fish hooks and a pack of kava, or "grog" as they called it, plus an inflatable beach ball for the boys.

On the way back to Savusavu, where we were to be joined by James Muir for the trip to Vanuatu, we caught a magnificent Mahi Mahi, the perfect end to a perfect mini-cruise.

And then we were three

James joined us as planned on 25th September and we provisioned ALIESHA  for the trip to the west of Viti Levu, from where we would leave for Vanuatu.  Sadly the weather, which had been perfect for our trip to Rabi,  turned wet and gloomy again so we decided to wait for an improvement.  It took nearly a week to arrive.  To pass the time we took James for a day sail in Savusavu Bay, in pretty strong winds, and all joined an expedition by bus across the island to the main town, Labasa.   This took us over the mountains which form a ridge in the interior and our bus, well past its prime, made heavy work of the uphill sections. The scenery was interesting, the company hilarious and Labase proved to be a much larger version of Savusavu.  In the market James was soon quaffing kava with the locals and very good it was too.

Friday 30th September saw us braving rain and strong winds as we beat south towards Makogai, (see chart) some 50 miles away and the first stop on our trip to Musket Cove.  Makogai was a leper colony but now only a few families live among the runis of the old hospital.  We didn't have time to go ashore; next morning at first light we were off again down to the north coast of Viti Levu and inside the reefs.  (See chart)  The navigation here would have been very demanding, but was made simple by a set of GPS Waypoints provided by Curly of Curly's Cruising Bosun's Locker.  These guided us unerringly between the reefs and shoals and we enjoyed ourselves watching the beautiful coastline unfold.  

And so we arrived back in Vuda Point Marina, there to check in with Customs in Lautoka and to tackle the laundry.  We were greeted as old friends by two of the taxi drivers we had used last year, Abdul One and his brother, Abdul Two (!).  Abdul One had also  become a Grandfather for the first time in the last year so we were soon swapping pictures.  He had met Kate, too, and remembered her visit.

Musket Cove continues to entrance us.  We used the barbecues they provide  most evenings and enjoyed the company of other diners we met through the smoke.  We snorkeled our favourite spots, but were horrified to see how much the coral had died off in just 12 months.  James and I went diving and saw sharks and some really lovely corals, so not all the sites are suffering - yet.  Pam enjoyed a massage on the beach which was not quite the relaxing experience she had expected but felt a million dollars afterwards.  And we attended a pig roast and evening of Fijian dancing at Dick's Place, the local hotel bar and restaurant.(no relative)

And then it was time to leave. We cleared out with Customs and Immigration and set sail for Vila in the island of Efate, Vanuatu, some 500 miles to the west.  Fiji had been enormous fun.  We love the people, the places and even the weather.  If we had no ties to call us back to England, we both agreed we could spend many of our remaining  years there.  We haven't felt that about anywhere else.

Postscript

As we didn't leave until after lunch, we decided to make a night stop at Musket Cove.  On the way down there James landed a fine fish, which we think was a Dog-toothed Tuna.  Strike One to Curly's lure!  A great way to start a passage.