We love exploring the land too. Here’s a video of Savusavu, the main town in Vanua Levu, Central Fiji. Very cool place.

You can get everything here and the markets and great.  There we bought plantain bananas, a kind of white radish, cassava (cassava chips are yum) and a cucumber/apple thing (bitter and floury). My cooking experiments don’t always work. Dean’s very polite.

We were in Savusavu twice. The first time for four days and then we had to come back because on our way to Makogai Island our engine conked out. At first we thought it was a bug in the fuel and we were looking at ‘polishing’ the fuel, or getting rid of it. But on second advice we decided it was water in the fuel tank. After oil filter changes it’s coming right (or so we thought – more later).

The first local we asked for advice from said we had to chuck it and offered to find some containers so he could take it back home with him. The second advice from an old cruiser said to bomb the shit out of it with biocide to kill any fuel bugs that can breed from water in the fuel.

While we were in Savusavu we took a two-hour local bus trip to the more Indian inland town of Labasa. The scenery was incredible – very NZ-National-Park like, with coconuts. It was almost like driving through another country than the Fiji we’d seen before.  Just out of  the city we saw a football field with cows in.

Labasa is probably the ugliest town we’ve ever been to. But the Indian flavour was cool and worth the day trip.

Our bus driver was hilarious – I’ve never seen anyone preen themselves so much while driving. He applied Nivea to his hands, arms, neck and face, twice; used lip cream; cleaned his fingernails; de-waxed his ears and picked his nose into a flannel, many, many times. I’m sure he knew we could all see him through the rear vision mirror.

He also seemed to have a monopoly on food: When we passed through settlements, someone would pass him food through his window. But we never saw him eat.

His cellphone rang all the time. The ring tone was Ride of the Valkyries.

Dum de da dum….

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

First of all, this trip is about relaxation and happiness after a very difficult few years. It’s tropical sands, fresh fruit and lazy mornings for us. Maybe.

A few days ago we sailed (motor sailed I mean) to Vuna Point, Tavenui, Fiji, to a lovely cruiser-friendly resort called Paradise Resort (free mooring if you buy something…mmm…pina colada…) We wanted to have a calm nights sleep and sit on a real toilet and one of those pool lounge chairs.

Here we met Richard from an organisation called Sea Mercy. Sea Mercy is a fleet of boats that provide healthcare to remote islands in the Pacific. In light of where we are about to go next – Vanuatu – it’s quite apt that we bumped into Richard here.

When we left Opua there was a poster in the laundry from Sea Mercy. Amongst the boat preparations, crew arriving and general petrified anxiety, I didn’t find out more.

So maybe it’s this trip, or another, but I feel like we’ve planted a seed. Even if nothing eventuates, it’s was lovely meeting Richard and his son, and to see what can happen when inner and outer worlds collide.

We’re coming back to New Zealand in November. After that?

Now, back to planning our local bus trip tomorrow to the Indian town of Labasa…sari orders anyone?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Last week we had an epiphany. After a day sail from our first port of call in Fiji, the remote Northern Lau group of islands, we arrived in Naiviivi Bay, north eastern group around Tavenui. We were tired, a little grumpy, stinky and just wanted to blob.

One of the other boats in the bay called us up on the VHF and invited us up to the little village on the hill for a night of dancing and meeting the locals. We said no. An Indian boil-in-the-bag meal (we’ve had no shops for ten days); an episode of Bates Motel; and early bed was on the cards for us. Cruisers Midnight has moved from 9pm to 8pm.

We turned the VHS off and looked at each other. Where we really going to turn down an opportunity like this? Did we really invest our life savings (and debt) and years of planning, and time away from family and doggie to lie down and watch tele?

So we went. We’ve decided to always grab opportunities, especially if we may never get the chance to do it again. So our days are full of firsts.

Our Pacific and cruising training wheels were off. From then on we’ve explored whenever we can.

The trip the village was extraordinary. We did sevusevu (drinking muddy cava and being initiated into the whanau) and the local kids did some traditional dancing. If this was in the West, those kids would have been plucked out and sent to the National Dance School. The energy, dedication, skill and natural performance blew us away.

A local French sailor had been there for three months and had become the official tour guide. This included showing us a ‘magic’ wishing well where you picked a leaf, made a wish, and placed it in the crevices of a white stone wall. My first thought was to wish for world peace, but I ended up wishing that Dean and I would stop niggling at each other.

Since our epiphany we’ve bush bashed from Horseshoe Bay on Matagi Island to the ridge; walked up the 272 steps at Bvatu Harbour to a coconut and mandarin plantation; got lost behind Dalconi Village and followed a local track to god knows where; and caught a rickety local bus instead of hiring a taxi.

The less glamorous side to all this is that my feet are starting to go mouldy; we’re always in water of some kind, or sweating from walking in dodgy places. And we’re always challenged. It’s not just the sailing thing to be scared of – spiders on goat tracks (Dean calls them all Fred), bacteria in street food, not packing the right things (I do take too much though), to not lock the boat or lock the boat and mega other things I manage to get myself anxious about.

I’m trying to chill. That’s the biggest adventure for me. Dean is always chilled except if the watermaker makes a funny sound.

He of course will always be the one to climb to the top of the rocks and jump into the waterhole, or swim behind the waterfall, or snorkel right down to the bottom, or put full sail out when the lean-o-metre is well away from its smiley face.. He’s very kind to me when I yell, “Nooooooooooooooooooo”. Mostly.

We’ve got more scratches and sometimes we end up in dumb places, but mostly it’s fantastic. It’s also surreal. How lucky are we. Still pinching ourselves.