June 10, 2013
It was a sunny, breezy morning as we approached Vanua Levu, the northernmost island of Fiji. We weren’t alone: our friends on Bright Angel were close behind us, and we had four boats ahead of us! I was a little nervous about getting a mooring. It didn’t help that the Waitui marina’s radio barely worked and they couldn’t be reached until we were pretty much there. Finally we got an e-mail confirming that we did, in fact, get a mooring. (It’s not the end of the world if the moorings are full as there’s a somewhat acceptable area to anchor; but it’s far, far better to be on a mooring.)
When we set off from New Zealand, I didn’t know much about Fiji and only had a vague impression from travel shows I’d caught on cable TV. Somehow all those shows tended to feature a small, exclusive resort at place called Turtle Island, and I just had the impression that’s what all of Fiji was like: small scrubby islands with nice beaches and palm trees where people bring you drinks while you spend way too much money.
On the passage, I’d started learning more about Fiji and had mixed feelings. Looking through our Lonely Planet guide, I learned that Fiji is so much more than my initial impression. Some islands are like Turtle Island, small with windswept beaches and swaying palm trees, but there are others that are large, mountainous, and heavily vegetated with rainforest.
Fiji basically has two very large main islands, and scattered around them like satellites are smaller islands that coalesce into groups that often have their own character. Some islands have traditional Fijian villages and a way of life that goes back centuries. Other islands have luxury resorts and cater to tourists looking for the classic tropical island vacation. Many islands have a combination of both with smaller, less flashy (but no less beautiful) resorts and a proximity to more traditional ways of life. The big south island of Viti Levu has a port and a major city. It all looked pretty fabulous, and who wouldn’t want to spend time in a place like this?
On the other had, I also looked over the Soggy Paws Compendium (a cruising compendium for traveling boats) and got the impression that for boaters, Fiji is all strong winds, deadly reefs, picking your way among coral heads into anchorages, and then a rather high degree of village life participation once you do get anchored. I do like the Soggy Paws Compendium and consider it an invaluable resource, but reading it now made me think Fiji might be a big pain in the ass. I wondered if we ought to just head for Vanuatu instead.
When we arrived, we rounded the point and entered a huge area called the Savusavu Bay. We then made our way along the shoreline to the town of Savusavu, about a 5-mile ride from the point. I was struck by how hilly this island was and its thick green vegetation. Turtle Island, this was not! I was very pleased: this place was beautiful!
Savusavu is a waterfront town that lies at the base of the hills just behind the shoreline. Just 200 meters offshore are two islands: Nawi and Vatuakuawawa, that somewhat enclose the area and give the impression that it’s on a river. This is where all the moorings are, and it’s a very well protected area. The vegetation here is lush, and while it doesn’t have white sand beaches, it does look like tropical paradise. I can’t imagine any cruiser arriving here is ever disappointed.
A very nice employee of the Waitui marina came out in a motor boat to lead us to a mooring and help us tie up. He explained he would be bringing the various agency officials (Heath, Customs and Immigration, Quarantine) to our boat. There are two main “marinas” here who oversee the moorings, and both of them take care of bringing officials to and from all the arriving boats (even the boats that anchor instead of taking a mooring). This happens over the course of a day; all we had to do was sit and wait. Once we were cleared in, we could go ashore.
I was nervous about getting checked in because you never know what to expect. We don’t ever have a problem with the allowed alcohol limits except for one thing: our two plastic jugs of vodka for killing fish. It’s ultra-cheap, awful vodka that we’d never drink, but we do use it on the fish we catch, pouring it into their gills to quiet them and help them pass on more quickly. It makes perfect sense to us, but try to explain it to customs officials! Thankfully, while these guys took a moment to ponder the concept of “fish-killer vodka,” they accepted it. By the end of the afternoon, we were all checked in and could take down our yellow Quarantine flag.
Normally I love our arrival dinner ritual, the one where we treat ourselves to one of the nicest restaurants in town and eat and drink way too much. We had planned to go with our friends Bob and Linda on Bright Angel, but by the end of the day we were all too exhausted to blow up our dinghies and walk around town. (Besides, Rich had I had gotten a head start on the celebration drinks.) We decided to put it off for tomorrow and just relax on our boats this evening.
After our busy day of getting checked in, enjoying arrival drinks and a post-arrival-drinks nap, we got up in time to sit in the cockpit and enjoy the evening. The start of the cruising season definitely has a feeling, a bit like the first day of school (if school were fun). You look around and see the people you will be cruising with this season. We saw friends and acquaintances from our Class of 2012 (the group who crossed the South Pacific last year), Kiwi boats we’d seen in Opua, and a few we’d never seen. We looked forward to catching up with some old friends and meeting new ones. We had a neat moment at dusk when dozens of fruit bats took off from the little island next to us and flew over to the main island. We liked this place a lot already, and we hadn’t even been ashore yet.–Cyndi
