Velella Cruising Log

(**We haven't had Internet access for a long time, so our accounts of our adventure have gotten quite long.)

Fiji is made up of over 300 widely dispersed islands; many of the smaller ones are larger than some countries we've visited. This makes Fiji an incredible cruising ground with endless places to explore, although with treacherous reefs to watch for. The islands are a mix of ancient volcanic peaks and coral formations. About half the area of the two largest islands, Viti Levu and Vanua Levu, are covered by tropical rainforest on the windward side, while the leeward sides are much drier. The Fijians called their islands Viti until the arrival of the Europeans. At that time, there was intense feuding between tribes. Fijian people gained a reputation for being formidable warriors and fierce cannibals, but they could hardly be friendlier now.

Indigenous Fijians are a mixture of Polynesian and Melanesian. They have nappy hair and are slightly darker than the Polynesians we've seen in the Eastern Pacific, and, like Polynesians, they tend to be large in stature (though not quite as large as Polynesians) and outgoing.

As a colony of Great Britain, the spread of plantation agriculture and the introduction of Indian indentured labor have created a mixed society with complex dynamics. The Indian indentured servants that chose to stay on after the completion of their contracts became the independent farmers and businessmen that form the backbone of Fijian commerce. Unlike the indigenous Fijians who live throughout the country, the Indians reside primarily near urban centers and in the sugar growing regions on the two main islands. Indian heritage Fijians make up roughly 50% of the population, and while there is some intermarrying, the groups remain distinct, partly because of a difference in religions. Like the Tongans, Fijians are a religious people. The majority of the native population is Methodist, while the Indian Fijians are 70 % Hindu, 25 % Muslim with some Christian.

Fiji gained its independence from the U.K. in 1970 with a democratic system of constitutional government based on the British model. In the late 1980's, a coalition government dominated by parties representing voters of Indian heritage fueled tension between the two races as people expressed a long simmering fear that the Indians, who already dominated the Fijian economy would also gain comparable political power. Ethnic and political tension has plagued the country since. The tradition of communal land ownership has left 2nd and 3rd generation Indian Fijians without the means to own land, and they hoped that gaining political power would help them address this issue. After a coup to reinstate indigenous Fijians to power, the constitution was revised to ensure that ethnic Fijians retain political power and land ownership. The quandary remains unresolved and, while the country seems peaceful, tension is sometimes apparent.

We made landfall in Savusavu on the south of the large eastern island of Vanua Levu. Savusavu bay is enormous and the town of Savusavu is tucked up a narrow creek lined with mangroves across from a line of storefronts. We wandered around the small dusty town and were immediately impressed by how friendly everyone was. Every person we passed warmly greeted us with a hearty "Bula!" We stopped in the shops to see what was available. In addition to the typical Pacific island selection of corned beef and tinned mackerel, we found a pleasing variety of curries, dahl and other ingredients for Indian style cooking. Most shopkeepers were Indian, and most of the Indian women were wearing saris. The Fijian women mostly wore dresses or skirts and the men wore pants, wrap around skirts or long shorts with Bula (floral) shirts. The fresh market offered a wide variety of high quality seafood, fruits and vegetables (many we've haven't ever seen before) as well as yaqona (pronounced yanggona) or kava, a dried root that is ground and drunk as part of a ceremonial or social custom. When anchored near a village, it is customary to present Kava to tribal chiefs and thereby become part of the village.

English, Fijian and Hindustani are the languages of Fiji. Three radio stations are broadcast throughout the country in each language, though most people speak English. The Fijian language sounds pleasant but is a challenge to read since things are often not written as they are pronounced. G's are pronounced as ng; Q's are pronounced as an ngg sound; C's are pronounced as th; and B's are pronounced as an mb. For example, Cobia is pronounced thombia and Beqa is pronounced Mbenga.

We stayed in the vicinity of Savusavu for a week, doing our best to adjust to the dramatic temperature change from New Zealand. We watched the bilibili (bamboo rafts pulled across the water using bamboo poles) slowly traverse the small waterway where we were anchored. As we headed east, we stopped in Viani Bay, a large well protected bay. Locals gave us a warm welcome, greeting us with a handful of limes and inviting us to sign their guest book, as other yachties had before. They offered to take us to the best snorkel and dive spots, handle getting our laundry cleaned and take us to a farm where we could replenish fruits and vegetables. They even offered to buy us dry goods across the strait when they went by boat to the nearest town.

We snorkeled daily in Viani Bay, continuing our perpetual search for fish and coral types that we've never seen and were richly rewarded. Our new 2 part nesting (soon to be sailing) dinghy has opened new horizons for us by allowing us to travel long distances for reef snorkeling where anchoring Velella would be unsafe. We motored our dinghy out to the world renowned Rainbow Reef, anchored off and spent hours exploring. The coral reef was randomly layered with purple, pink, orange and yellow soft corals resembling flowers in an English garden undulating in the swell. We spotted Christmas tree cones of various colors, tiny lobsters and moray eels.

When we needed to replenish our supplies of fresh fruits and vegetables, we set out for a farm visit. Young Fijian, Litia, took us up past the schoolhouse and over a high hill, through forest and swamplands and eventually to a clearing, where a bull casually grazed. We made our way to what looked like an abandoned farmhouse and were welcomed by an Indian man and two Indian women who invited us inside. Litia gently washed and dried our feet then suggested we sit on a woven mat on the floor of the kitchen. They asked if we were hungry, and while we indicated we had eaten breakfast, we soon found ourselves served a delicious Indian meal consisting of curried jackfruit, cooked Fijian spinach, roti (tortilla like bread) and sweet limeade made with brown sugar. The Indian farmer showed us around his rented property, taking us along a riverbed on which he delivered copra to boats that anchor in a nearby bay. He explained how he had lost the lease of the sugar cane land his family has cultivated for generations as many Indians have. Many leases are expiring and are not being renewed. The farmer also spoke of the tensions between the indigenous Fijians and Indian Fijians: the hardworking Indian farmers can't understand why the Fijians don't work their land and the Fijians think the Indians are only interested in money and are worried they will lose their land and prosperity to aggressive Indians. He spoke openly with disparaging remarks about the Fijians in front of Litia, although her family is not part of a traditional communal village and their relationship seemed different than his relations with his other neighbors. While we tried to talk to the women, we soon realized that they did not speak English. After generously sharing his time, he finally took us to the fields where we could pick vegetables we wanted, including eggplant, cucumbers, long beans, bok choy, green onions, cilantro, papaya, jackfruit, and even corn that had been grown from special seeds bred for the tropics by the University of Hawaii. It was a special treat to harvest our own fresh food.

Only the day before, after a snorkel in a remote area, we explored ashore and harvested a few papaya from a deserted property - a risky move since all land in Fiji belongs to someone, although the trick is figuring out who owns it before attempting to pick. The derelict bure (thatched hut) appeared untouched for years and ripe fruit was falling from trees overgrown with Bougainvillea. Another time, when we visited ashore to a property owned by an absentee American but managed by several Fijian Indian caretakers, we were encouraged to pick whatever we wanted, so we harvested limes, sour oranges and papayas to our heart's delight. Since it is sometimes hard to find fruit to buy in stores - There is no need to sell it because everyone has fruit growing in their gardens - finding ripe fruit on the trees sparks an intense desire. We feel so resourceful when we can catch our own or trade for fish, fruit and vegetables.

Several islands in Fiji contain populations of resettled people following World War II. On the island of Kioa, people from Tuvalu, and on the island of Rabi (Rambi), people originate from Kiribati (pronounced Kiriboss). While a country as spread out as this one would appear to have little solidarity, the newspaper and radio stations do a lot to bring the country together. Bereavement announcements as well as messages and song dedications to loved ones enhance the feeling of community and make Fiji seem like a small town, especially when everyone seems to be related to everyone else.

We anchored off a backpacker's campground at Beverly Beach at the northwest tip of Taveuni island. In front of our boat, we snorkeled in water so clear that a mask and snorkel seemed extraneous, since we could see the fish and coral formations so well from the dinghy as we paddled to shore. The coral, damaged extensively only 3 years ago in a hurricane, has rebounded and made for some of the best snorkeling we've had. The area around the boat was teaming with wildlife with fish jumping most days, and we also saw a turtle, dolphins and several 4" aquamarine cuttlefish. We meandered down the road regularly to sample Audrey's fresh island grown coffee and rich pastries on her front porch overlooking the water and offshore islets, were tempted by the great pizza place on the beach accompanied by cold Fiji Bitters or the cool fresh fruit shakes on the deck at the Coconut Grove Resort. The heat was overwhelming on sunny days wherever shade is scarce. Snorkeling for an hour is the best way to cool one's core body temperature, although other water related activities to kept us busy and cool.

On the west side of the island, we took a number of runs down a beautiful natural waterslide in the rainforest. The stone is worn smooth by the cool, clear fresh water that has been gushing down the rocks for centuries. Local Fijians we met there pointed out a location on the rocks where their ancestors sharpened their knives. We watched them enjoy their amazing local watering hole, sliding down the smooth rocks on their feet (as though riding a surfboard). We zoomed down the chutes and slowed as we were dumped into the pools below, scooting along on our haunches after a brief pause to the next leg of the chute. When we returned days later after extensive rains, we were alone and the water levels were higher, making for a very different ride down the waterslide.

Extensive land in southeastern Taveuni has been turned into a nature reserve by 4 local villages. We enjoyed a long coastal walk to a beautiful waterfall, passing several traditional villages along the way. The trail followed the southeastern coast of the island then began winding inland and uphill. The trail suddenly stopped short of the waterfall but we could see falls upriver and needed to hike 100 meters through a riverbed of partially submerged boulders, and then swim against a strong current up river to reach them. We found a small nook in the high rock walls where we could wedge our bodies in to rest from the forceful pull of the current and take in this beautiful sight. The immense volume of water pouring over the rocks was overwhelming and we could barely hear one another. We saw people behind the falls swim out and around the falls and return to where they had been. We turned to head back, not realizing initially that they weren't just messing around and that they felt trapped by the strong back eddies that churned in the foaming water beneath the downpour. After merely letting go of the rock walls in seconds we were swept half of the distance that had taken us 5 minutes to cover coming in. As we reached the rocks where we'd left our pack, we heard calls for help over the roar of gushing water. A local Fijian advised that they dive deep to get below the surface current and they were able to break free. The victims, now cold and frightened, were two hunky Swedes in their early twenties, some of the many travelers we've met from around the world.

Few Fijians know how to swim and within our first few weeks in Fiji we heard of several boating accidents with people lost. Boats and ferries traveling the open sea between islands are commonly overloaded. A storm in New Zealand created large swell that threatened the southwestern coasts of Fiji, sparking severe wave warnings, evacuations, and coastal road damage in the affected areas. While we were concerned about how they might affect the boat, in our safe anchorage on the opposite shore we felt no impact.

We visited a series of three gorgeous waterfalls on the edge of the rainforest, also on the east side of Taveuni. A short easy walk took us to a high narrow stream of water flowing into a large pool. Further hiking took us past scenic overlooks and across river to a more remote second falls, a shorter, higher volume cascade with an intimate pool below where we enjoyed a refreshing swim. Once we'd cooled down, our curiosity about a third waterfall took over and we ventured on up a steep and slippery trail. We lost then found the trail again as we traversed across the stream several times and frogs jumped from our path. The third falls was an artistically arranged stack of rocks breaking the water flow into multiple cascades flowing to a lovely pool below. Each waterfall had incredible beauty with vastly different features; we could have lingered a full day at each, enjoying the romantic intimacy especially of the second and third falls.

Taking the bus and hiking around remote areas of Fiji has given us a great opportunity to see the countryside and the smaller villages. People are extremely friendly, waving and saying hello as we go by and will often stop to offer us a ride. Named towns often consist of a single store, making some of the smallest towns in the U.S. seem like a busy metropolis in comparison. We pass multitudes of women washing in streams and colorful clotheslines full of fresh laundry, as well as children playing and kava roots drying in the sun. The houses in the villages are a mix of traditional bure (thatched huts) and wood with corrugated metal. Cooking facilities are housed separately. Children in smart uniforms pour out of the school buildings in the afternoon and are always excited to say hello to Pilangi (foreigners) they see.

We went for a Fijian lovo buffet meal, where meats and kassava are roasted slowly underground and take on a slightly smoky flavor. We began the evening sitting cross legged on a woven mat around a tanoa (a carved wooden bowl raised on a set of legs) in which a fine powder is ground from the root of the pepper plant and mixed with water to make to yaqona (kava). Yaqona (kava) is served in a small coconut cup, tastes a little like muddy water and numbs the tongue and throat as it goes down. Along with lovo roasted chicken and lamb we tried tuna fish in coconut milk, taro leaves cooked spinach style in rich coconut milk and delicious fruit salad. The couple hosting the lovo invited us to collect fruit on their land for our trip to outlying islands. We harvested chili peppers, star fruit, limes, and oranges of several varieties so we could make juice and compare flavors. Their adorable children shared with us the wonder of puppies born only 2 hours earlier.

We'd had poor weather and radio reception several days running and wanted to get an updated weather forecast, so thought we'd stop by the airport on our way into town. (The airport is a single runway with a tiny 2 story building and the town consisted of 2 stores smaller than a 7-11 with far less selection and a couple of tiny bungalow style resorts.) We asked the agent in the airport about weather and he pointed upstairs to the control tower. As we reached the top of the stairs, we were surprised to find a guy stretched out with a blanket with two gals also stretched out on nearby tables. The next flight of the day wasn't scheduled for another hour. They didn't know anything about the weather but were willing to call the international airport to let us ask. The only instruments inside the control tower were a wind direction and speed indicator, a broken barometer and a radio. We joked about how tight airport security has gotten these days and the high stress job of an air traffic controller.

We loved Taveuni and look forward to returning. We became part of the small community there; many knew our names and where we were from long before we'd even been introduced. A single-handed sailor incited much community interest when he invited a backpacker of the opposite sex aboard his boat. We discovered the coconut telegraph is very effective in these small towns when he was greeted with numerous thumbs up signs and titters the following morning.

We wanted to take a sunny day to head north to Budd Reef so we could see the reefs to navigate safely. The reefs in Fiji are unlike reefs that we've encountered before. In French Polynesia the reefs are near the surface of the water and clearly visible because of breaking swell and turquoise water, but Fijian reefs are hidden beneath variable tides in somewhat murky water. Bright sunlight is even more necessary here to determine where the reefs lay. We departed Taveuni with weather that looked promising, but clouded over shortly after we got underway, so we diverted to an easy bay on Matagi only 7 miles away. We discovered when we snorkeled our anchor how close a reef wall lay that was not indicated on the chart nor mentioned in the guide. The guide described the bay as idyllic, but with a reef right in the middle of the bay within 4 feet of the surface, we could hardly agree. Williwas made for a restless night as we sailed around the anchorage on our anchor. We heard goats wailing on the shore during the night.

Dawn showed us another promising day, so we set off for Budd reef, a cluster of 6 remote islands, only one of which is inhabited by a small village. With 25 knot southeasterly trades, we hoisted just the main for the short sail and were hitting high 6's on the knot meter as we approached the wide reef pass. Again, the sky clouded over but we were committed. As we surveyed possible anchorages we found deep water nearly up to the reefs on the shoreline. We had marginal charts to work with of the islets inside the reef but the guidebook directions indicated that sand surrounded the islands offering numerous anchoring options in various wind conditions. We found that the outer reef offered little protection from the swell, but felt we could anchor safely in the lee of the island. The sun reappeared from behind the clouds but then the engine died. We were forced to beat into strong gusts spaced between lulls, trying to maneuver close to the beach reefs with a highly variable boat speed. Challenging anchoring conditions combined with challenging sailing conditions meant we were exhausted when we finally found a spot that we could live with and dropped the anchor under sail. What we found upon arrival was different from what we were expecting based on the guidebook; we would have waited for calm conditions given what we actually found. Strong williwas made for more restless nights as we sailed around on our anchor, dragging the anchor chain across coral heads.

In the morning, the wind calmed slightly and we were encouraged. When the conditions abated further, we planned to move the boat over closer to the village, present Sevusevu, an offering to the village chief of dried Kava root, and officially pay our respects to the village, then visit an extinct volcano crater. We snorkeled in the crystal clear water in front of the boat, sighting more giant clams with brilliant blue mantles, lobsters, red spiny sea urchins, sea snakes, and various types of anemones and soft coral. The biggest puffer fish we've ever seen surprised us; he was lurking near the entrance to a small cave that we swam into, and his head was about 12 inches in diameter (in a non-inflated state). During the day the wind seemed to diminish promisingly, but at nightfall we were again beset with williwas that made for light sleeping.

In the daylight, we had our own little pocket of paradise, with interesting snorkeling, a tiny beach and bright sunshine, lulling us into thinking we had complete privacy until we were surprised by a boatload of visitors. We forget that in these tiny villages that our arrival is a big event. We don't appear and disappear anonymously as is possible in the U.S., but arouse immense curiosity. We get a chuckle out of the locals, suddenly having all kinds of important business taking them past our boat. While normally there are only 2 speeds on their engines (off and top speed), they meander by our boat doing their best to see in the hull windows as they go by. Trying to stay cool in the tropics, we are not always fully clothed when hanging out at home! They usually wave and will stop by if we are outside, although not always. Nearly everyone in Fiji is related, and we soon found our friends in Taveuni were relatives of our visitors from the small village of Yanuca (Yanutha).

During the night, the wind came up again and shifted slightly, funneling gusts around the top of the island. We swung around our anchor, our chain catching on several coral heads with a long fetch and short scope, now on a lee shore. The weather forecast promised more of the same and we decided we'd had enough. Much as we wanted to make a proper visit to the village as we'd promised, we were beginning to feel our boat was at risk. We were wrapped around numerous coral heads, so had to carefully unwind our chain cinching up the chain as we drove forward in intense gusts, weaving a path to mirror that of the chain below, then quickly grab the anchor buoy to avoid wrapping it in the prop and pull away from the coral reef behind the boat. Right after Garth finally got the anchor off the bottom and the buoy line aboard, the engine died and wouldn't restart; by the time Garth dropped the anchor back down and it grabbed the bottom, we were less than a boat length upwind of a surface reef. Our hearts were in our throats as gust after gust stretched the anchor chain, flirting with the reef behind us.

We apparently bought some bad fuel in Tauranga (NZ) and we've been going through filters like we were changing our underwear. Whereas we might have sailed out the previous day, we now were so close to the reef on a lee shore that the coral off the point would have endangered us before we'd gotten any forward momentum. Garth changed fuel filters yet again, ran the engine a while, then we crossed our fingers and gave it another try. Once we'd pulled away safely we felt like we'd earned a rest, yet we still needed to exit the reef pass and get to a safe anchorage 15 miles away. We chose a muddy hurricane hole for our next anchorage, so we could catch up on some well needed sleep without worrying about wind and coral. It turned out to be a beautiful spot, although a bit of a fishbowl with houses surrounding the bay on all sides.

We ventured on to nearby Lauthala, an island purchased by Malcolm Forbes in the 70's and turned into a resort and then closed 2 years ago when political unrest created an incident on the island. While the island is for sale, the caretakers continue to live on the island to look after the facilities, and the Forbes Foundation pays to take the children of the remaining 10 families to nearby Taveuni for schooling each day. We received a warm welcome from the first other cruisers we've seen for weeks, as well as caretakers William and Nellie, brought by delicious crabs steeped in coconut milk.

We had full run of the island. We walked the beach and sat on the front porch of a bure looking out at our boat like we were high paying guests of the resort. The original Forbes house was open to explore and looked much like photos in the biography we saw of Forbes that Nellie shared with us. We hiked up to a tree house lookout above a beach on a nearby bay and then returned by water another day. On our way, we watched Nellie harvest a huge bag of coconut crabs. In several small clearings along the road, she and her helper uncovered layer after layer of palm fronds to reveal several coconut crabs attempting to scurry from the coconut they had been feasting upon. She harvests this volume of the delicacy twice a week! We also saw parrots sitting in the trees and listened to their lovely song. A dog keeping us company on our hike chased and caught a goat along the way, but was called off, sparing the goat's life (this time). While returning to the boat in the dinghy we had a fleet of flying fish fleeing for their lives jump right at us; we ducked fast and somehow only one landed in the dinghy.

Running out of supplies and anxious to check email messages after so long, we left eastern Fiji for the capital city of Suva.

Cheers, Wendy and Garth

Wendy Hinman
Garth Wilcox

Velella
Wylie 31'