Rabi Island is another island whose population comes from another place. They originally lived on Banaba in Kiribati, and in the 1900s various countries mined it for phosphate, to the point where it pretty much became a moonscape. The British government thus bought Fiji’s Rabi Island for the Banabans and resettled them there. It wasn’t an easy transition; but the Banabans persevered and today, like the Tuvaluans on Kioa, they retain their own culture. Even though they’re officially part of Fiji, they consider Rabi their own country. This later turned out to be an issue for a few cruisers (more on this later).
Below are some photos of the north shore of Rabi as we motored past.
Today we had very cloudy skies, which meant we’d have to rely on our waypoints to get into Albert Cove. We’d much prefer good visibility, but what can you do? As we approached the bay, it didn’t look that impressive under these gray skies. But as we made our way in through the pass, we began to see its magnificence! The bay was rimmed with mountains where huge rock formations jutted out through the jungle growth, giving it a very exotic and dramatic look. At the head of the bay was a long stretch of palm-tree lined beach. This bay definitely lived up to its reputation!
It looked big, but there were a lot of reefs here and only a few spots to anchor. We found a good spot and knew our friends on Bright Angel, who we were meeting here, would find one, too. It wasn’t long before they arrived and found a nifty spot closer to the beach.
Below, a gallery of pictures from our arrival at Albert Cove (click to enlarge and scroll).
In the evening as we enjoyed sundowners on Bright Angel, the sun came out again, making that wonderful golden light against a dark gray sky that makes everything green seem to glow.
Watching the colors start to pop in the evening light. (Albert Cove, Rabi Island, Fiji)Beautiful light just before sunset. (Albert Cove, Rabi Island, Fiji)A closer picture of the beach nearby in the evening light. (Albert Cove, Rabi Island, Fiji)
Albert Cove was truly a beautiful bay, and we looked forward to spending a few days here. –Cyndi
What a treat to wake up to clouds reflected in the glassy water of Kennedy Bay.
After enjoying the scenery, we got the boat ready to go as we had a few hours of motoring ahead to our final destination: Albert Cove on Rabi Island.
We could clearly see Rabi Island from our Kennedy Bay anchorage as it’s only 6 miles away, but Albert Cove, at the far east side of Rabi island, was 15 miles away. This was a place we’d heard great things about, and we were anxious to get there and spend a few days. (The map below shows our route from Kennedy Bay, Kioa Island, to Albert Cove, Rabi Island.)
Before we left, we met a guy who owned the tiny house we’d noticed out by the head of the bay. He was so nice, offering that we could anchor in front of his house as there’s good holding there, and he had papaya and coconuts. He was so hospitable that we decided to give him a couple of gifts even though we were leaving: two packages of crackers and a machete, thinking it might be useful way out here in the thick brush. He was overjoyed. It seems they make a good gift out here! Thank you, Diamond Girl, for giving us your extras! You made this man’s day! –Cyndi
Conditions were perfect for our 25-mile motor to Kioa Island, one of two islands just off the southeast coast of Vanua Levu. The wind as down, the water was calm, and the sky had some cloud cover making it comfortably cool on deck.
Motoring out though the reefs at Dakuniba Bay (Vanua Levu, Fiji)Gentle waves on the reef as we motored through the pass at Dakuniba Bay)
Our destination was Kioa Island, which is actually populated by former residents of Vaitupu in the Tuvalu islands. Because of a shortage of good soil and space, they bought uninhabited Kioa island and relocated here after WWII. Only recently, in 2005, did they become Fijian citizens, but they still keep their Tuvaluan culture and don’t really consider themselves Fijians. Many of them are also Seventh-day Adventists.
Had we been following the most popular cruising route, our next stop would have been the village of Salia, where nearly all the people on Kioa live. (The map above shows our route from Dakuniba Bay to Kennedy Bay on Kioa Island; Salia is the spot marked at the southwest area of Kioa.)
Everyone else had been stopping there, and we’d initially planned to do the same. Then we came to realize that neither one of us was very excited about the prospect. This wasn’t a place to come for its beauty, nor was it a well-protected anchorage. It was all about interacting with the villagers, and the antisocial party poopers on Legacy just aren’t that into it.
We’re certainly in the minority here as most other cruisers seem to thrive on visiting villages and participating in traditional village life. (Participating generally includes visiting a home for a meal, going to church, learning skills like net fishing/wood carving/basket weaving, entertaining locals on your boat (often for hours), lending any useful skills you may have to the village, and perhaps a kava ceremony).
We’ll go to a village if it’s required to visit a worthwhile place. Some of the traditional Fijian villages require boaters to come ashore and do a sevusevu if you wish to anchor in their bay. A sevusevu is a ritual where you’re brought to the hut of the chief, make a presentation of kava, then sit through a small ceremony after which you are welcomed as part of the village. You’ll generally be given a tour of the village and perhaps some fruit, and you’ll meet some of the villagers.
How much further it goes is generally up to you. You might spend every day hanging out and participating at the village, or you might rather return to your boat and go about your own business from there on out. We’re in the latter category. Either way is generally fine with the villagers; it’s actually some of the other cruisers who get their panties in wad about anything they perceive as a lack of sufficient participation.
We did motor by Salia, thinking if it looked especially nice we’d change our minds. Then we saw how open it was to southerly conditions! Nope, definitely not going!
The next anchorage, locally known as Kennedy Bay, was on the far side of the island. To get there we motored between Vanua Levu and Kioa islands. With the mountains of Vanua Levu on one side and the mountains of Kioa on the other, plus the mountains of Taveuni Island in the distance, it was a very pretty ride.
A hut out over the water at the tip of Kioa Island. (Fiji)Looking back at the hut, now with the island of Taveuni in the background. (Fiji)The west tip of Kioa Island with Vanua Levu Island in the background. (Fiji)Motoring along pretty Kioa Island. (Fiji)
We arrived at Kennedy Bay. Very few cruisers come here; so we didn’t know much about it. We motored in and soon found that anchoring would not be easy. It was really deep, yet the area near shore was riddled with shallow reefs. When we did find possible spots, the bottom was all coral and our anchor wouldn’t hold. Motoring around, watching for suddenly-appearing reefs, and having no success in setting our anchor was disheartening. It was getting late, and we decided if our next attempt at anchoring didn’t work; we’d have to head to the next island.
I spotted a sea turtle as we motored around, which was encouraging because I think if them as a good omen. We dropped our anchor and after dragging initially, it caught and held at last. Thank you little turtle for bringing us some good luck!
It had gotten hot so we retreated below for awhile to reward ourselves with a cold beer. Later in the afternoon we were able to take our showers in the cockpit (one of the advantages to being in a remote bay); then sit and survey our surroundings. We hadn’t initially been impressed with this difficult bay, but when the golden evening light shone on the jungle and mangrove shoreline, it looked like paradise. We were suddenly very happy to be here. –Cyndi
Below is a gallery of Kennedy Bay, including a picture of our lucky turtle. Click to enlarge and scroll.
Rich woke me up while it was still dark. “It’s really pretty outside; we should go watch the sunrise!”
Generally when one of us wakes the other to see something; it’s worth getting up for. I groggily climbed out of bed. Rich gave me a cup of coffee and we headed outside. The first thing that hit me was the morning smell of tropical Fiji. It smells like water and damp earth, like a rushing river. I never think of water as having a smell, but it does.
It was still dark out, a near-full moon hanging above the tree line, reflecting in the water along with a few bright stars. We sat outside and watched light slowly fill in the picture around us. The light over the trees was dusky pink fading into the blue above, the moon still bright. Bats started to come into view more and more as they were headed “home” to their tree. Birds began to call in the trees around us, making a soundtrack to match the scene of jungle. In the distance we could hear the constant rumble of the surf on the reef, the squeaking of bats, and the occasional splash from a fish.
We sat and took this all in: the smells, the sounds and the sights. The air was cool but pleasant, comfortable for shorts and a T-shirt.
Up before dawn in Dakuniba (Vanua Levu, Fiji)Looking at the moon still shining brightly at dawn. (Vanua Levu, Fiji)The moon above the treeline at Dakuniba. (Vanua Levu, Fiji)
When it was light enough, we headed over in the dinghy to visit the bats again. They were very active, screeching and squealing and just adorable! We couldn’t believe we had all these wonderful bats to ourselves! But it was time to say good-bye to our little friends and head east before the trade winds picked up again. –Cyndi
We’d heard that Dakuniba had lots of fruit bats. This might not be a selling point for some people but we love bats and appreciate their finer qualities. We were worried we wouldn’t find them, or that there wouldn’t be many. We needn’t have worried. Here are some of our still pictures from our time there. (Click to enlarge and scroll through if you like.)
And here’s the aftermath of our mangrove cruise amongst the bats. (I’m sure you can guess what Cyndi’s picking out of my hair!).
Bat Pooooo – Yuk!
Despite this bit of yuk, for me, this was among our cruise’s highlights. -Rich
