Two At Sea

August 23 – 26, 2013

One major difference in cruising now verses our time in Mexico and Hawaii 15 years ago: digital cameras! We can shoot away without worry about conserving film. In a place like Fulaga where the changing light continually alters the look of the surroundings, we can take as many photos as we like.

As the light changes in our anchorage, different things come to the forefront: the rock islands might be highlighted against a shadowy background, or fall under a shadow while the background white beaches light up. At times the water glows bright blue, while other times it darkens in the golden evening light, which then highlights the green vegetation. At dawn the sky is the highlight, alight with color. The evenings seemed subdued and dusky compared to the sunrises, but I wouldn’t be surprised to see a gorgeous sunset.

Above is gallery of the changing light at various times of the day. Below is a two-part video, one taken the other the later afternoon after we arrived, the second at sunrise. –Cyndi

August 25, 2013

On the way back to Legacy, we went to chat with a newly arrived boat. They were very unhappy about the $50FD fee (about $25US), and asked if we had at least “argued” about it. Uh, no, we didn’t. We knew before we came here it would be $50; so why would we argue? They were upset we hadn’t argued, and by the fact we gave “too much kava.” I was a little confused by this at the time, but later realized where this probably came from.

When we first came to Savusavu and did Curly’s seminar about cruising Fiji, one of the things he said was necessary was to get your cruising permit laminated, along with a Fijian translation (also laminated). You are to bring this with you whenever you first go ashore so you can be prepared to “argue” about your rights. This confused the audience, and when someone asked specifically where we might need to argue, Curly avoided answering the question.

Many people went ahead and got their permits translatated and laminated, but we never got around to it and eventually forgot all about it. Well, it seems some of the self-professed Fiji cruising experts (Curly, John Martin of the ICA Rally, etc.) object to the Lau villages (Fulaga and Vanua Balavu) charging a fee and thus advise their followers to argue with them about it in hopes it might change.

Perhaps there’s also some concern that other remote villages might get the idea to charge a fee, but for the time being the fees in Fulaga (southern Lau) and Vanua Balavu (northern Lau) are set and made very clear. I believe that urging people to argue just puts them in a bad position and annoys everyone involved.

Some followers come in all gung ho about making an argument; then invariably end up backing down, saving face by saying they were given a list of what will be done with the money thus have made a “donation.” The alternative, making a point of refusing to pay and sailing away, isn’t something anyone really wants to do after making the long journey there.

To the authority figures who tell people to argue with the village leaders: If you don’t like it, you go argue! If you’re insisting on recruiting people to do your dirty work, be straight with them about what you’re telling them to do. And for all who know full well the fees for the Lau Group and get all upset about it, there’s a simple solution: don’t go.

I’ll end my rant of the day on a nicer note with this peaceful rainbow picture from a morning in the anchorage. –Cyndi

August 25, 2013

Sunday morning we met up with our friends from Bright Angel, Tiger, and Kailani on the beach before walking to the village. Before we got there, everyone made sure to put on their sulus (pictured below).

Everyone had gifts for their host families. Rich and I had put together an array of things in a nice cloth bag: chisels and sand paper (that Sake had mentioned he needed), a machete, chocolate chip cookies, a tube of antibiotic ointment (they can always use this in the villages), and a few other assorted goodies that we hoped they could enjoy.

The cruisers all sat together in the church, following along as best we could since the service was in Fijian. I don’t know what all the minister said, but it seems in their religion God gets pretty pissy, and since he’s not in attendance, the minister serves as his yelling representative. Perhaps someone should tell their God about Lexapro. Oh well, what can you do?

After church, Rich and I headed over to Sake and Ba’s home for a lunch feast. Everyone sat on the floor in front of a low table, and various dishes were served. We had different kinds of fish: one cooked with coconut milk and taro, the other in a sort of red sauce, and a fish curry with noodles. We also had sweet potato, cassava, a starchy item made with coconut flour, and a dish of giant clam. It was all pretty good, although frankly we could have done without the rubbery giant clam. We were urged to keep eating, and we complied, but thankfully they were gracious about letting us stop before we got explosively full. Some people (in any culture) are insistent that you eat until it’s gone or die trying.

We ate, we talked, and eventually it was time to go. I was given leftovers, which meant we’d have to come back to the village the next day to return the pot they came in. We planned to head to another anchorage tomorrow and this would delay us, but we couldn’t graciously refuse. (Note to other cruisers: bring your own containers in case you’re offered leftovers.)

We quietly walked back to the anchorage on our own, and I got to look around more than usual. The path was filled with darting swallows, while small black and white butterflies were abundant in the greenery. The sea is definitely the star attraction here, but the land is quite pretty, too.

Below, a gallery of photos from this day, including the group changing into sulus, Sake and Ba’s home, a few pictures around the village, the path back and our anchorage beach. –Cyndi (Click to enlarge and scroll).

August 24, 2013

There are so many areas in Fulaga to explore by dinghy, and a person could get lost among the little islands for days. We were about to take our first ride, and the choice was easy. We’d been swimming around the our pyramid motu and noticed that behind it was a maze of islands to explore.

And so we headed in, weaving amid the islets to different areas of the lagoon just north of our anchorage. The clusters of little islands, the clear aqua water, the sand spits and beaches make this place seems like something out of a dream. We’ve never seen anything like it, and already we’d would put it in the top four places we’ve seen on our cruise.

Below, a gallery of photos from our dinghy ride. (Click to enlarge and scroll). –Cyndi

August 24, 2013

The walk to the village starts by the beach, going over a low hill to the other side, taking about 15 minutes or so. Once there, lush green vegetation gives way to a village with dirt paths, expanses of lawn and widely-spaced trees. Small tin-roof cottages are spaced along the paths, somewhat centered around the church building in the middle. It’s simple, clean, and well-landscaped. Behind the village is a long expanse of white beach that lines an impressive blue bay.

On the walk, we’d met our Turaga ni koro, Sake, and his wife, Ba, and they’d invited us over for lunch after church tomorrow. We’d hoped to avoid the whole church thing, but we didn’t feel we could gracefully turn down the offer. Church is important to Fijians, and the idea that someone might rather go snorkeling is an alien concept to them. Plus they’d invited us for lunch, and it would have felt rude to say no.

After a quick visit to Sake’s home, we followed him over to the chief’s bure (small home). We took off our shoes before entering, then sat on woven mats on the floor. The 85-year-old chef sat in front of us, and Sake sat near his side. Sake presented our kava and our $50 and translated for the Fijian-speaking chief, who thanked us for the offerings and coming and showing respect for their Fijian traditions. He welcomed us, and they completed the sort of chant-like speaking and clapping ritual. After the ceremony, there was some small talk before we all adjourned. Both Rich and I were pretty stiff-legged after sitting on the floor.

We were relieved our sevusevu had gone well, but in retrospect we needn’t have worried. We’ve since learned that Fijians are generally thrilled to have visitors, and as long as you bring kava and show the proper respect, you’re good. (Note: Another thing we’ve since learned is that kava drinking isn’t really a part of the average sevusevu ritual, but something that you may be invited back to do some evening if someone’s feeling chummy towards you.)

We headed to the beach afterwards, finding our friends. We were relieved to hear several cruisers would be joining us for church tomorrow; so we could go as a group. That made us feel more comfortable, especially since they’d also be doing lunches with local families. Rich and I were still insecure about interacting with the village, and we’d definitely feel more comfortable as a group.

For now, we walked on the beach, taking in the view and enjoying the company of some of the young women from the village. What beautiful, affectionate people they are. After our walk, we said our good-byes and headed back to Legacy. It was getting hot, and it was time for a swim!–Cyndi