Musket Cove
Vega
Hugh and Annie
Tue 31 Jul 2018 06:11
When in Lanzarote and with our Atlantic crossing in mind, we allowed the experts in the sports shop to select for us the appropriate fishing rod, reel, line and lures to guarantee a daily haul of fresh fish. You may recall that the reel lasted one session during which a vital nut fell off, rendering the reel useless. We persevered with a handline and by the time we reached Antigua had caught a Wahoo, a tuna and a Mahi Mahi. Hardly a daily haul but at least we knew we could catch something from time to time. Our sailing friends usually had more success (and perseverance), losing as many lures as us but landing tuna and Mahi Mahi. One tuna weighed 65kg and took an hour to get to the boat and then winch on board. Barry, who caught the tuna, had a spare reel and this we bought. We then discovered that our used only once fishing rod was also falling apart. A trip to Burnsco in NZ provided a replacement.
Armed with gear to catch a 300kg marlin we set off from NZ but only Annie had the enthusiasm to put the handline out the back from time to time. In the Galapagos we had been told to look out for flocks of feeding seabirds as evidence of tuna beneath and in NZ were told that fish are only to be found in the vicinity of reefs and submerged landforms, not in the deep ocean. Here in Fiji we found just that combination off the main island reef and no sooner had I pointed this out to Annie than the rod jerked violently and the fight with something huge was on. It turned out to be a 2kg skipjack tuna but at least it was large enough for a meal.
After cruising the more remote islands we spent a couple of nights at the Robinson Crusoe Island Resort. More at the backpacking end of the resort spectrum we were pleased to join a buffet supper and listen to the locals playing guitar and singing as they drank kava (or “grog” as they call it). One had been billed as the best guitarist in Fiji and he must have had a very misspent youth (that he was barely out of) because he was brilliant - running through jazz, rock and Fijian numbers with flawless ease and virtuosity. We had intended to stay just one night en route to the marina in Musket Cove but the prospect of fire dancing on the third night was too tempting and we stayed to see something unique to this island in Fiji, having been brought from Samoa by the son of a Samoan chief. What we hadn’t anticipated was the influx of 180 holidaymakers from other resorts who had come for the island “experience” and were treated to piped electronic music and insipid dancing over their Lovo earth oven cooked meal. To be fair the fire dancing at the end was better than the circus school students in St Andrews Park back home and the whole thing seemed to be enjoyed greatly by the day trippers, but for us it was a bit on the touristique side. We have learnt that there is usually a big difference between entertainment performed for local audiences and that choreographed for the tourists. Which we are of course but at least we can get off the beaten track and with a bit of effort most visitors can if they wish to.
We were reminded of this at our next port of call, Musket Cove Marina and Island Resort. Other yachties had waxed lyrical about the place, being a fairly upmarket resort where you can become a life member of their yacht club and enjoy lots of discounts and privileges. At least you could until the current South African owners took over and withdrew all the fringe benefits for yachties. Nevertheless this is “yachties at play” with lots of activities in the shallow waters, pool, spa, restaurants and bars and many more yachts than we have previously come across in Fiji. It could be anywhere in the world with palm trees, hot sun and white sand and you definitely don't come here for authentic Fiji. Annie and I were quite down on our first night and after Robinson Crusoe were wondering what on earth we were doing.
A new morning and a different mindset and we felt much better. We were moored Mediterranean style with anchor out at the front and two stern lines and it was nice to be able to step off the back of the boat onto the pontoon. There was a bar a few yards away, a launderette for some essential maintenance and shallow flat water on our doorstep to try out the new paddle board. Now, as ridiculous forms of transport go, the paddle board has to be right up there. Why on earth stand on a small wobbly platform whilst trying to paddle in the most ergonomically inefficient way? However, many find it fun, Annie included, and she has rather taken to it. Unfortunately she thinks it good leg exercise and that I am in equal need of it. She is right of course but what I have found shocking is quite how old, feeble and unbalanced I have become. I can barely stand up on the paddle board, shaking and wobbling, and can only manage a few yards of very gentle paddling. Combined with the reminders of my wrinkled feebleness in photographs this is hard to bear. I can think positively about a renewed Bannatyne gym membership when we get home but can I shake off this exercise lethargy on the boat? Annie, of course, has devised a new exercise regime for us both and is doing squats as I write.
Frozen Mojito.........
Frozen Mojito.........