Fiji at last 17:13S 178:58W
Seaflute
Wed 15 Aug 2018 07:47
for the extended period of inactivity on this front. We have of course
crossed several oceans since leaving Tonga and visited many more countries
but have just been too busy and plain lazy to keep up to date. I will do my
best now to play catch up and cast my mind back to the 29th August 2017
After a gentle two day sail from Tonga, there was the usual jubilant cry of
"land ahoy" from the crew as the island of Vanua Balavu appeared above the
horizon silhouetted against the setting sun.
Vanua balavu is part of the Southern Lau Group, a small chain of isolated
islands South East of the main Islands of Fiji and rarely visited by anyone
other than passing yachtsmen. Oyster had arranged for a team of customs and
immigration officials to meet us there and clear us into Fiji. If this had
not been made possible, we would have had to clear in to one of the major
ports in Fiji several hundred miles to the West and it would then have been
difficult to backtrack and sail upwind to visit these lovely islands and
welcoming people.
Vanua Balavu has a reef that completely encompasses the island with just
three passes into the inner lagoon. Only one of these passes is large enough
for us to pass through and it is on the North West of the island. The
accuracy of charts and electronic navigation aids for this area are
seriously dubious, so I felt it prudent to sail very slowly around the
island well offshore and away from the treacherous reef until daybreak to
enter the pass in good light. The pass itself had been described as "very
tricky" and I confess to being mildly apprehensive about the navigation into
the inner lagoon. As day break approached, I had attempted to time our final
run along the northern end of the island to make our arrival at the pass
when the sun was high enough to give good visibility into the water. As
usually happens, when you don't need any wind, it arrives. We had thirty
knots blowing from the East and despite our best efforts to slow down we
were still proceeding at five knots running under bare poles! Subsequently
we arrived at the pass several hours earlier than planned. The sun was
nowhere near high enough to offer good visibility, but to our surprise and
delight we sighted two transit markers, clearly positioned to show the safe
route through the pass. One at sea level and one higher up the cliff and
behind the first, each of them was the size of Nelsons column and painted
white. A finer navigation aid I've not seen anywhere. Naturally cautious, we
still nosed into the pass very gingerly. The strong wind had thrown up a
lively sea and the breakers where crashing on the reef either side of the
pass. Tom was hoisted to his usual perch on the lower spreaders and called
the position of any close reefs and rocks as we approached them. The pass
was indeed quite tight and care was needed to keep the transit marks well
aligned. However we passed through the reef and into the tranquillity of the
lagoon without incident. In the lagoon the hazards were easily visible and
we proceeded the several miles to the anchorage off the village of Daliconi
where we were to meet the officials to clear in, in several days' time.
A canoe from the village came out to meet us and Shepherd us to a safe
anchoring spot. We dropped the hook into sand in five metres depth and put
the kettle on. Our 'pilot' peter gave us the low down on the village in
excellent English. His brief included describing a route into the beach for
our dinghy to avoid the numerous coral heads that lurked just below the
surface. I think he was more concerned about preserving their lovely coral
than the welfare of our dinghy and I don't blame him. One other part of
Peters brief that immediately captured our crews' attention was the
existence of a bakery in the village. It was run by Sam and his wife. Sam is
also one of the village elders and can give us permission to visit the
village and any other parts of the islands we wish to see. With visions of
cappuccino and pan au chocolate, we hurriedly launched the dinghy and made
good for a foray ashore.
Daliconi is a very orderly village with neat rows of fisherman's shacks
along the seafront and the rest of the village houses scattered in staggered
tiers up the hillside behind. We were directed to the bakery by some of the
fishermen and set off up the hill accompanied by a gaggle of small children
and the usual accompaniment of half a dozen or so small mangy dogs. Like
most of the other Pacific Islands we have visited, the scars of Cyclone
Winston are very apparent everywhere you look. Tarpaulins stretched over
houses which were once adorned with beautiful thatched roofs. Families
living in shipping containers next to the flattened remains of their homes.
When Winston tore through the Islands in 2015, he delivered winds of over
235 miles per hour. To maximise the devastation, he passed through the
Islands East to West, then turned around and came back through in the
opposite direction. Sadly there is a lot of evidence of building materials
being available, but not many being put to much good use. Despite all this
devastation and misfortune, the Islanders have retained their good humour
and all smile readily when they see you. In these remote Islands a white
person is still a relative novelty and the children particularly are always
very inquisitive and not shy to stare intently at you.
One of our giggling escorts happily announced our arrival at the bakery. All
hopes of cappuccino were immediately dashed but the smell of freshly baked
bread was easy compensation. Sam the village elder and his wife gestured
eagerly for us to go and join them. They were sitting on a woven mat under a
brightly coloured tarpaulin strung from the front of their one bedroomed
wooden hut which we later learned was home to them and their three children.
They were very fortunate their home had been saved from the cyclone due to
its location in a small niche in the hillside. After the usual introduction
formalities they were very keen to hear about our travels and really very
impressed to hear we had sailed all the way from the UK. They called their
son Matthew from the bakery to meet us and take our bread orders. At this
stage I should describe the bakery. It consisted of a building the size of
an average garden shed. Inside was an oil drum on its side encased in
concrete. This is where the fire is placed. Above it was a rectangular hole
in the same solid lump of concrete with a neat row of bakery trays lined up
inside. The oven holds ten loaves at a time. Matthew proudly announced he
only bakes in the morning but his working day starts at 03.00 and he bakes
enough bread to supply the whole village of 300 people. He was very keen to
establish how many loaves we would like. We were equally keen to establish
if by us buying bread would denude any of the local population of theirs. He
assured us this was not the case and he would simply start baking earlier!
We sat for some time with Sam and his wife learning about life in the
village and local customs. Tom and I were intent on learning where the best
snorkelling and diving was on the Island. Sam quickly told us about the
'secret' location of some coral bommies which are home to multi coloured
giant clams. A subsequent dive there proved to be amazing. He also suggested
the diving outside the reef was excellent with lots of large fish and
sharks. "Do the sharks bite"? I asked. "No" he replied. His wife let out a
loud exclamation, "They bit you didn't they and you nearly died"! "Yes but I
was carrying fish I had speared, that doesn't count". The obvious next
question from us was: "Where did he bite you?" "I'll show you" he said. With
this he turned over and rolled up the leg of his shorts to display a huge
gnarly scar the size of a large washing up bowl covering the top of his leg,
buttock and lower back. "He let go when he realised he had bitten me by
mistake" he said with a smile. Tom and I looked at each other with a knowing
expression confirming we would NOT be diving outside the reef.
Armed with four fresh loaves we continued our tour of the village. Before
we'd left the bakery, we had asked if there were any projects we could help
with or if there was anything the village was particularly in need of that
we could possibly provide them with. Sam had told us that the village
generator was in dire need of attention. It runs for two hours per night and
provides the only power for the whole village. I arranged a time to meet the
chap responsible for the machine later that day. I gathered a small group of
mechanically inclined skippers together and also did a round of the Oysters
already anchored in the bay to collect any oil and fuel they could spare. I
had soon collected a substantial amount of both. At the allotted time our
small band of engineers trekked up the hill laden with Gerry cans and oil
drums, guided by the clatter of a diesel engine we easily found the
generator hut. The door to the fairly modern looking shed was open and from
the door, along with the clatter of the engine a fog of exhaust gas
streaming out. An oily figure emerged from the dingey smoky interior and
introduced himself as David, guardian of the generator.
On further discussion, it was obvious that David was very proud of his
generator and also felt a great sense of responsibility to provide power to
the whole village. We established the 2003 vintage Deutz generator had been
provided to the village as part of an international aid package at that
time. Sadly like many similar projects we witnessed on our travels there was
no follow up or maintenance package provided. Fifteen years for a generator
of this quality and given the relatively small amount of use it had is no
time at all, but marry this to zero preventative maintenance and you end up
with the sorry sight we saw before us. The poor Deutz was leaking oil from
virtually every join in the engine block and it was little wonder they were
consuming oil at the rate they were. The original fuel pump had failed and
at some stage a small electric pump had been added and the fuel lines
diverted through this new pump. The fuel lines were secured to the pump with
twisted fencing wire and not surprisingly there was as much diesel running
onto the floor as was reaching the engine. This was easily cured with the
addition of several jubilee clips. The more serious problem from a health
perspective was the leaking exhaust system that ran from the engine up to
and out through the shed roof. Many repairs had been attempted in the past
that ranged from asbestos tape and bean cans secured once again with the
staple twisted fencing wire. We managed to cure most of the worst leaks with
some exhaust tape but explained to David the whole pipe needed to be
replaced completely as soon as possible for the sake of his health. I must
confess I left the shed wishing we could have done more than just
temporarily fix some of his issues, but with limited time and resources
there was not much more we could have done.
On the third day after arriving in Dalconi the immigration and customs
officials arrived in the village and began visiting the now veritable armada
of Oysters anchored in the bay. The process of 'clearing in' was relatively
straightforward but still involved six officials boarding the boat. Only one
person seemed to actually do anything and one of the female immigration
officers spent the time taking selfies of herself on the yacht and texting
them off to her friends. Like most Fijians, this group were fairly rotund
individuals and the sight of six of them being ferried between yachts in a
small tender was a sight to behold. Fortunately it was a very calm day
otherwise a capsize would have been inevitable.
The day after we were officially cleared into Fiji, we had all been invited
to a reception hosted by the village Chief and elders where they would
accept our collective gift of Kava for Sevu sevu and grant us permission to
explore the village and island. This was quite a formal affair held under a
large gazebo type structure in the village centre. The chief and some of the
elders took turns in welcoming us to Fiji. Unfortunately none of them spoke
English nor us a word of Fijian, so when the chiefs speech went on for
fifteen minutes, it was quite hard to fain interest for that long! With the
formalities complete the villagers had prepared for us a marvellous feast of
chicken curry, Poisson cru, grilled fish and a vast selection of cooked
vegetables and salads. One dish in particular was a clear favourite of mine
and consisted of spinach cooked in cream with a hint of nutmeg and cinnamon.
We were all encouraged to partake in drinking the Kava which had been
prepared and was being enthusiastically consumed by the male villagers. For
those of you who have never tasted Kava, in my opinion you are very lucky. I
would describe the appearance as muddy ditch water and the taste of ditch
water could not possibly be much worse than the Kava we were invited to
drink that night. There is an obviously a strong ritualistic element to
drinking Kava and the locals are clearly upset if you decline to take your
share. You quickly learn to tip the bowl up enthusiastically and make the
necessary slurping noises without actually swallowing very much at all. I
did experience a tingling and numbing around my lips. I concluded the same
thing can be achieved with a fine glass of scotch and at least you get the
pleasure of consuming something delicious!
Then followed a wonderful evening of local folk dancing and singing which
the village presented with great enthusiasm. Music and dance is a very
important part of the Fijian culture and it was wonderful to see it alive
and well in the Daliconi village life.
The following morning we took a 'bus' ride to Loma loma which is the largest
village on the Island and is situated on the north side. As the crow flies
it is no more than twenty miles distant but given the terrain and the
condition of the tracks, it was a ninety-minute ride in the 'bus' which Sam
had organised for us. The bus was actually a covered lorry into which had
been put some planks suspended on vegetable crates. This was a popular tour
so seating was at a premium and several of us hung onto the back whilst the
remainder crouched between the lucky seated passengers. With every bump it
felt as though your spine may come out of the top of your head and we were
all extremely grateful there were plenty of stops along the way to enjoy the
views and take photographs.
The village of Loma loma is much larger than Daliconi and is where the only
hospital on the Island is located. Lindy was obviously very interested in
talking to the staff there and was soon invited in for a grand tour. The
hospital consisted of three rudimentary wards serviced by one doctor and a
couple of nurses one of whom doubled as a midwife. The nursery consisted of
a small room with a broken incubator in one corner. The incubator had broken
several years before and they overcame this problem with a hot water bottle.
I'm sure the baby's temperatures are monitored very closely. Fortunately
they only have on average one birth every six months and for anything other
than a very straightforward delivery, expectant mothers are encouraged to go
to the hospital on the main island of Viti Levu, where they have a modern
well equipped delivery suite. I could see Lindy settling in for a full
coaching session on hygiene and neonatal care and persuaded her to move on
gracefully. The staff are obviously immensely proud of their hospital and
look to be doing a great job given the very limited facilities they have at
their disposal. The ride back to Daliconi seemed to take twice as long as
the way there and we were all very glad to eventually pass over the final
hill and see the cluster of Oyster Yachts anchored in the clear turquoise
bay below us. The following morning we all bade farewell to our new found
friends and up anchored for the heroic five mile voyage to the top of the
lagoon and into the bay of Islands, an amazing series of breath-taking
anchorages in a labyrinth of passages through coral Islets between the main
island and the outer reef. The fleet anchored here for a couple of days
whilst exploring the maize of narrow passages on a dinghy safari, exploring
submerged caves and of course the mandatory beach barbeque. The decision of
where to go next was a very difficult one to make. We had a date set to
clear out of Fiji in seven weeks' time, leaving from Musket Cove two hundred
miles to the west. Between us and Musket Cove there are literally thousands
of Islands and bays with perfect anchorages and some of the best soft corals
in the world. We had already learned from previous experience that to
attempt to see too many places was foolish and far better to visit fewer
places and do them justice. The quality of diving on the reefs of Fiji is
legendary so inevitably given the composition of the crew of Sea Flute, the
location of these dive sights had a huge influence on the final choice of
routing.
Prior to embarking on this rally I must confess to believing that Fiji
consisted of one Main Island with several smaller Islands dotted around it.
In fact, the kingdom of Fiji covers a sea area of 18,000 square miles and
consists of three hundred and thirty three Islands, one hundred and ten of
which are inhabited. In addition there are over five hundred 'Islets' not
categorised as land.
Our first selection was the island of Taveuni to the North West and its
beautiful Rainbow Reef. An overnight stop en route, we anchored inside the
dramatic partially collapsed volcanic caldera of Matagi which has created a
perfect horseshoe shaped lagoon offering shelter in most conditions. The
multiple ship wrecks marked on the chart prompted a careful approach. After
an early morning snorkel we proceeded to an anchorage just off the village
of Savu savu where we were able to book some dive trips out to the Rainbow
reef. The town of Savu Savu is a noisy bustling place and sadly like many
towns and villages we visited in Fiji the vast majority of the businesses
were run by Indians and Chinese. I'm afraid the locals have sat back and
watched and allowed this to happen and are only now complaining bitterly
that they are being left behind economically. We chose a dive shop run by an
American who had come to Fiji fifteen years ago to work for a year and
hasn't left. The diving as expected was truly excellent. The condition and
variety of corals was sublime and the abundance of sharks, turtles and
myriads of fish made the experience greatly exceed my already high
expectations. Two of the most famous dive sights in Fiji are called the
Purple Garden and White Wall, both are here on Rainbow Reef. They are so
called because at certain states of the tide, the soft coral 'blooms' and
the whole reef wall is covered in bright purple and white coral fronds
waving gently in the current. We were very fortunate to see this splendid
phenomenon on most of our dives. Despite the high density of Indians amongst
the population of Savu savu, we had probably the worst curry I've ever eaten
and unfortunately there wasn't very much choice other than a pizza
restaurant about four miles to the North. We had managed to rent a 'car' to
explore the national park with its magnificent rivers and waterfalls. This
day got off to a false start when several miles into the park on unmade
roads we burst a tyre. The spare was removed from the boot but the hunt for
a wrench and a jack proved fruitless. Whilst we were considering our
options, Jack noticed a piece of string "adhered to the inside wall of the
spare tyre. As he tugged at it, it yielded easily and a loud hiss
immediately began to emit from the hole the string and what looked like
chewing gum had been filling! Every cloud has a silver lining and we had
stopped in the shade of a large tree and by some miracle had a phone signal.
Raja from whom we had rented this 'car' explained that he only had two cars
and this one had been borrowed from his brother, but he would see what he
could do. Again miraculously he called back several minutes later and
explained a replacement was on its way. Sitting on the side of a road in a
remote area of Fiji you certainly see something of rural life. People
emerged randomly from the jungle up and down the road all carrying machetes'
and the fruits of their labours which ranged from fruit and vegetables, fire
wood and dead animals. They were just as surprised to see us there as we
were to see them. An hour later a very tired and battered looking minibus
rattled to a stop behind us and two very happy chaps emerged and handed us
the keys. I was surprised to see they didn't have with them a wheel brace,
spare wheel or jack which I had explained in my earlier telephone call were
missing.
The two of them happily handed over our new steed and we hastily departed
still wondering how they would manage without any means of fixing the busted
tyre. When we found them still at the spot we had left them some five hours
later on our return, we realised they had no more idea than we did. Our
offer of a lift was refused so we continued our journey back to base.
>From Taveoni we headed South West to a small marine reserve called Namena.
This atoll had previously harboured a very exclusive resort on the small
island. The resort had been completely destroyed by hurricane Winston and
the family that owned it were unable to afford the cost of rebuild as the
resort had been uninsured which is quite common in the islands due to the
cost of insurance because of the frequency of devastating cyclones in this
region. Insurance for new builds is virtually impossible to get. Two of the
previous staff of the resort where living in the remnants of one of the
bungalows and acting as caretakers, gradually clearing the debris left from
the storm. It's hard to visualise the force of a full cyclone but when you
see the remains of a heavy concrete dock piled like matchwood on the beach,
you can begin to imagine the full fury of this storm. We were given a full
guided tour of the broken resort and told of how all the guests were
successfully evacuated and the staff stayed to attempt to save what they
could. One family survived by tying themselves to a tree during the lull in
the storm convinced the building they had sheltered in would not survive
another onslaught. They watched then as the second storm passed taking the
building in its entirety with it. It took two weeks for any aid to reach the
remote islands after the storm.
A walk along the windward shore rewarded us with some amazing shells,
particularly several completely intact nautilus shells. We dived the outer
reef several times with our local guide whose 'local' knowledge very nearly
put us onto a reef! The diving here was not as impressive as I had expected
for a marine reserve but I guess Winston had played a part in this also.
A short sail South West saw us anchored off the old town of Levuka on the
island of Ovalou. Levuka was previously the old capital of Fiji and during
the boom years of copra trading had been a thriving port and home to many
wealthy merchants. It now has more of a wild west feel to it despite the
faded relative grandeur of its architecture. The local economy is now
dominated by the huge Chinese tuna cannery and you sadly cannot escape the
cacophony of a massive generator which runs twenty four seven and can be
clearly heard all over the town. It must drive the residents insane or they
have just got so used to it they don't hear it anymore. An afternoons stroll
down main street passing Watsons general trading store and then supper in a
lovely local restaurant overlooking the bay concluded our stay here and we
weighed anchor to head North West to sail around the North of Viti Levu into
Bligh water and towards our next landmark dive sight.
I had identified a small sheltered sandy bay called Levu Levu half way along
the north coast that should afford a sheltered anchorage and be within easy
striking distance out to the good diving sights of Bligh water. When we
arrived we anchored off a small resort and went ashore to check it out.
Without question it was the friendliest hotel I have ever encountered.
Within twenty four hours every member of staff knew all of us by name, where
we were from and what we were up to. The dive shop was superb and we dived
with them extensively. We even dived some previously unexplored sites and
had the privilege of naming them. My discovery is called the Labyrinth and
now features on their list of favourite dive sites! More impressively Tom
taught the bar staff to make a tropical fruit rum cocktail which they called
a Sea Flute and remained on their cocktail list after we left. Lindy and I
checked into a room for three nights which was sheer luxury to have
unlimited shower time and a stable bed for a while. It would have been so
easy to stay here for much longer but as always we needed to move along. Our
next stop was planned to be in a marina called Vuda point just North of
Denarau. Despite having booked a berth well in advance, we were told we
would have to 'hold off' until a space became available. I promptly told
them they could do 'something else - off' and headed to the anchorage
outside Denarau Marina. The following day we sailed off to the Yasawa group
of Islands and whilst weaving through the islands and reefs soon realised if
it hadn't been for our perceived booking at Vuda point, we could have peeled
off from Levu Levu towards the Yasawas and saved two days sailing! We later
found out that one of our fellow rally participants who had gone into Vuda
Point marine had damaged their rudder so badly on a submerged rock they had
to be lifted for two weeks to repair it. The marina is also based next to an
oil depot so all in all we had a lucky escape.
We cruised the Yasawa Islands for five days and enjoyed the simplicity of
great snorkelling, lovely beaches and the occasional resort with a great
beach bar. Again Lindy and I decanted into a lovely five star resort in Port
Denarau for some more luxury R and R. All too soon we were heading back to
Musket Cove to prepare for our departure to New Zealand. We had allowed six
days to prepare Sea Flute and provision for what promised to be one of our
most testing passages to date. I'm glad we had the extra time as the
preparations were concluded quite quickly and we had some real down time,
chilling and socialising as all the Oyster fleet gathered ready for the off.
Everyone was very sorry to be leaving Fiji. A beautiful country full of
beautiful smiling people, who couldn't have made us more welcome. Fiji,
we'll be back!
