Click on pictures for enlargement

Local galvanised sea kayak.	Last minute preparations.	Alison Bailey and 'local' porters.

Scribe: Laurie Ford
This was a trip I organised when I was Secretary of the Australian Canoe Federation Sea Touring Committee. I wanted a trip that was suitable for novices and yet interesting enough for experienced paddlers. I guess I'm not terribly interested in all those expeditions to cold desolate places, but would rather some warmer interesting place. The trip to Japan in 1982 had showed us just how interesting touring in a foreign country could be, even though the actual canoeing conditions had been flat calm for 99% of the time. Just travelling from town to town, village to village along the coast had made an unforgettable impression on those who participated, and I felt that more people should be encouraged to do this sort of thing.

Fiji seemed to fit the bill pretty well, and there would be no trouble with customs or language - and the weather would be ideal if we picked the right time, plus it is a reasonably cheap country to get to from Australia.

I got hold of some tourist type brochures from Sydney, but they lacked any useful information for planning a canoeing trip, so I wrote to the editor (Peter Tiffany) of one of the newspapers enclosed with all this information. This turned out to be an absolute stroke of luck because he wrote back and enclosed pages and pages of photocopied information on every subject we could possibly need. Weather conditions and temperatures during the whole year, local customs, departments to contact to get permission to visit some of the offshore islands, names of people to contact in the customs, names of people to contact at Yacht clubs, history of Fiji, etc. etc..

I was then able to pick a couple of months that would provide suitable conditions and plan the trip in much greater detail than I previously thought possible, and start to publicise the trip and encourage people to take part. Heaps of people were interested, but not all could get two months off - so we ended up with nine paddlers. Some were only coming for two weeks, some for a month, some for the two months. This situation is less than ideal but in this case could be fitted in without too much hassle.

Most participants had at least a years full preparation, but the odd one or two came in with only a few months notice. The paddlers came from Tasmania, Sydney, and Thursday Island, and were all asked to put in a fair bit of training in the preceding twelve months. Some did heaps and were absolutely amazing in Fiji, some did absolutely none at all and certainly did not get the full benefit of the trip - although they certainly got enough to have made the trip worthwhile - but at the expense of creating a little friction early on in the trip.

This is always going to be a problem and is not necessarily overcome by hand picking close friends - even those trips have a certain amount of friction. It didn't particularly worry me, and I would do it again and take pot luck with peoples peculiarities - you just have to switch off and not let others get under your skin.

Participants were John Wilde, Cecily Butorac and myself from Tasmania; Steve Jacobs, Ray & Shirley Abrahall, Peter & Alison Bailey from Sydney; and Kerry (Tug) Reid from Thursday Island.

Kerry really was the surprise of the whole trip, and a very pleasant surprise too. We had known her very briefly in Hobart when she'd been on one or two trips in the front of a double - a shortish plumpish shy person who didn't appear to have the strength to paddle out of sight on a dark night - but was dead keen and even discussed the possibility of not accepting the very good job on Thursday Island so as to be able to stay in Tasmania and train seriously, and get a boat fitted out. For people that are genuinely keen I’m prepared to go to a lot of trouble to encourage them, and we told her to go off to Thursday Island, taking her Polo Bat to train in and we'd fit a boat out for her. This she did, and was fortunate enough to find Paul Davis's old boat still there and used that for several long training trips. When we finally got to Fiji she was very concerned that she may not have been fit enough but actually was one of the strongest paddlers - always up at the front of the group - and hence nicknamed 'Tug' by Steve.

It also contrasted heavily with others who had done no training at all and couldn't paddle into a ten knot breeze or handle a two foot swell. Cecily and I had paddled with all the others previously with the exception of the Baileys. Peter was a keen marathon paddler and was an easy-going type who fitted in very well - nothing ruffled him at all.

John Wilde organised the travel arrangements - very roughly it cost about $500 return fare from Sydney per person, plus approximately $240 return fare for each kayak. The kayaks actually went to Fiji on the same plane that we did, but returned to Australia some time after our return. It cost the Tasmanian group a further $80 return fare for each kayak to and from Launceston. It is one of the cheapest and most enjoyable holidays I've ever had.

We first got together as a group on the Continental flight leaving Sydney - most of us met in the airport lounge but Tug was cutting it a bit fine and just made it before they took the gangway away. The flight arrived in Nadi airport (Fiji) in the evening and we were met by a mini bus from the seaside resort we had picked from the extensive list Peter Tiffany had provided - we had booked a couple of “Bure’s” by phone some time previously at the Sea Shell Resort. Nadi (pronounced Nandi) is slightly inland so we chose a modestly priced resort on the coast about an hours drive from Nadi. As it turned out this was ideal for our purposes for a starting, finishing, and intermediate stopover place. The night we arrived was hot and sticky but once you got used to it it wasn't at all hard to take, and we quickly retired to bed with the big ceiling fans whirring away quietly.

The next morning was our first real look at Fiji - gently waving palm trees along the shore, and a distant view of surf about a mile offshore as it crashed over the coral reef which surrounds a fair bit of Viti Levu (the main island of Fiji). The proprietors were extremely helpful in organising a truck to take us into Nadi to pick up the kayaks, having to wait an hour or so while we got them through customs. We were fairly lucky here as I had previously written to them and ascertained what charges would be made and had their reply with me. At first the local lads were a bit confused because it was outside the normal freight they deal with but the letter from the Head Office worked like magic. We had to pay about 30% deposit of the value of the kayaks which would be returned when the kayaks left the country, but somehow the actual cost of transport is also included in the value so we paid a bit more than expected - but got every cent back upon our return to Australia. The kayaks were then taken back to the Sea Shell Resort and we spent the next couple of days with last minute fitting out by some people, plus a fair bit of shopping for food and other items. I think we ended up with three separate 'cooking groups' which worked out well in practice once people got used to each other.

The basic paddling plan was to go out the Yasawa Islands and return in two weeks so Steve could fly back to Sydney (only newly married you know) then continue on round the southern side of Viti Levu to Suva where the Alisons, and Shirl, and John would leave. Cec, Ray, Tug and myself would complete the circumnavigation of Viti Levu.

So here starts the actual trip report, fairly long winded but I would like to put it all down on paper so that in my old age (fast approaching) I have something to refresh my memory of another very memorable experience. In any case you're not paying for it so I suppose I can say what I like.

The kayaks were a fairly diverse lot of designs. Cecily & Steve had new Greenlanders. Ray & Shirl had a kayak Ray had designed - very similar to the North Sea Tourer but without the hog in the keel and with a rudder fitted in the skeg - altogether it looked a beautifully finished design - and used the latest VCP hatches. John, Alison, and Kerry were in North Sea Tourers (Kerry in Cec's old boat). Peter had an Ice Floe and I of course had the Longboat. All the kayaks were fitted with sails, rudders, hatches, and electric pumps - as is fairly standard practice these days. Steve's boat had been completely broken in half on it's maiden voyage in NSW but was put back in a mould and went back together fairly well, although the colour couldn't be matched perfectly - but this is another story which Steve is still writing up for future publication - I think!

The forecast for most of our stay was for very light SE trade winds, which it was most of the time - quite often being a flat calm - and for just a few days increasing to a very stiff head wind as we made our way along the south coast. It was hot and sunny most days, with one day of rain - altogether very pleasant weather for a holiday, which was the whole purpose of the trip. We weren't setting out to make world headlines with breath-taking experiences in some untamed wilderness, but to spend our annual leave in a relaxed style while soaking up the culture of a foreign country.

To get to the Yasawa Islands meant paddling north up the coast for a couple of days before heading out on a 30 mile open crossing to the first island in the group. Visiting yachtsmen need special permission from the authorities in Lautoka so we had to call in there on our way. Our first days paddle was a leisurely one in brilliant conditions, and as we passed over shallow bits of coral we could easily see the bottom and the myriad brightly coloured fish swimming about. Most of us had brought some sort of snorkelling gear, and John, Steve and Peter were well equipped with fishing lines. The shoreline was mainly beaches with rolling hills behind them, mostly covered with sugar plantations. The first nights camp was on the beach just short of a very exclusive Hotel serving the Nadi area.

We didn't need to paddle past Lautoka to go out to the Yasawa Islands, so chose to stop near another beach-front hotel and get a bus into the city to get the required permission. I decided to leave early the next morning to make sure of locating the appropriate authorities and sort out any problems that might arise from our peculiar circumstances, and let the others follow on at their own pace later in the day. I left in the dark and arrived at Vunda Point just as it started to get light enough to see where I was, which was exactly where I planned to be. After pulling the kayak clear of the water I changed into dry clothes and set out to walk the 10 miles to Lautoka - it still being a bit early for buses and in any case the Govt. offices wouldn't be open for ages yet. This early morning walk was a good opportunity to see the countryside coming to life - the Indian cane cutters with their machetes going off in groups, the little wayside shops and stalls opening up, buses starting to bring people in to the city from the country, and more and more people walking quite long distances from the outskirts of the city. Some of these provided me with directions to the right building and then I had a slow wander around the main city blocks before many of the shops were open. Lautoka is one of the two main ports in Fiji which consequently supports this second largest city.

As soon as the dept. opened I had a bit of fun with the young lady at the counter trying to explain what we wanted to do, but it really seemed to be a bit beyond her comprehension. She'd obviously never heard of sea kayaks and I feel quite sure that she ended up under the impression that there were nine people on a yacht called the Longboat even though I'd done my best to explain we were all in individual boats. She finally just shrugged her shoulders and went into the inner office for the boss to put his signature on the form, and then told me that as soon as I could produce all the passports we could go where we liked. We'd expected this and I'd arranged for the others to bring their passports in to meet me about the middle of the day.

While waiting for them I visited the main telephone exchange and was given a guided tour of the establishment and found it almost identical to Australian exchanges. The Yasawa Group each have a radio-phone at the local post office - the call being operator connected. I also had time to nip down to the wharf area and find the Harbour Masters office and purchase a copy of the tide tables as there is a fair rise and fall around Fiji. At high tide it is easy to paddle inshore of most of the coral reef but at low tide you lose a lot of gel-coat on the coral and it was generally better to go outside, hoping to find a way back inside when you wanted to get ashore.

It's rather a delightful experience wandering through a foreign city to see the different wares for sale and compare prices with back home. European type food was comparable but most other items were up to a tenth the price you would expect. Fresh fruit and vegetables were always available at the many outdoor markets, and the bigger towns support the supermarket that seems to be common all over the world.

Having sorted out everything in Lautoka after we met up together at lunch time, we caught a bus back to a small village near the Anchorage Resort and walked back along the beach to our kayaks. The staff at the resort were very friendly and made a shower available for us and we had a very pleasant evening meal in the main dining room before retiring to our tents on their lawn on the beach front.

Before we had left the Sea Shell Resort Peter Tiffany had visited us with his wife and family and had written a very good story for the two newspapers, one of them putting it on the front page. During our two months paddling some people remembered the article and many didn't, and we were always a bit doubtful about our reception at the big resorts. After all, it's not everyone who wants a lot of scruffy sea canoeists putting up tents in front of exclusive hotels full of well paying guests - but generally speaking (with one exception) we were made to feel very welcome.

The next morning was the real start of the trip. The previous two days had just been following the coast, still within sight of civilisation so to speak - but now we were heading out to sea, hopefully to visit real Fiji village; untouched by the twentieth century. The only charts we had were one very small scale chart of the WHOLE of Viti Levu (A4 size) and some very large scale ones of the Yasawa Group. (These were all provided by Andrew Rust who had been an early starter but pulled out about the time his club decided not to be a specialised sea canoeing club). Going across to the Yasawas we couldn't really tell on our small scale chart whether the little dots were just coral reefs or inhabited islands so weren't sure if we were going to do the whole 30 miles in one go or camp somewhere halfway.

An hour or so later we were passing numerous very small islands, any of which were suitable for an overnight stop. Most were gleaming white beaches with a little growth in the centre, and no more than 100 metres long and 30 metres wide. The day was cloudless, and the underwater view clear to the bottom - this whole vast area being quite shallow. Slightly south of our course were many of the well known island resorts which we expected to pass by on our return from the island chain we were heading for. It was an easy day, touring from islet to islet before arriving at Vomo in the early afternoon. This was a much larger island with a partly constructed village on the northern side - apparently being built for tourist use. There are many boat cruises out this way and Vomo is a popular stopping off place for snorkelling and a barb-b-que on the beach. It was deserted when we arrived and we decided to stay the night and get a bit of snorkelling in ourselves. The warm water was unreal, especially considering we had only left a Tasmanian winter a few days previously, and it was the first good look at coral for some of us. Towards evening a large two masted tourist ship arrived and the passengers came ashore for a look around and some swimming. We hadn't put up tents at this stage but did so later well along the beach away from their bar-b-que area. They seemed to be a little put out by our presence and didn't know what to make of us, but ignored us in the end.

The following day was another long paddle straight across to Wayasewa Island with nothing much to see till we got there, and a gentle side wind that slowly increased during the day. The group was pretty slow so I spent some time zigzagging upwind and back for a while but John's mournful dirges (sung at full volume) finally got to me and I stayed about a mile upwind on a parallel course. As we closed the island I spotted a native sea canoeist way up ahead and was able to sneak up on him while he fished. He was a good mile or so off shore and got the shock of his life to see me just arrive out of nowhere by myself, the others were still well back just out of sight over the horizon. His kayak was a little different to ours, but was a very common design in Fiji and we saw many of them later on. It is constructed of a single sheet of corrugated galvanised iron bent in half along it's full length. At the bow and stern the iron is nailed to a stem and sternpost and sealed with a black roofing type compound, and they sport a wooden gunwale similarly fastened. The centre of the kayak is sprung open with a wooden brace, and most of them have a small seat in the stern fastened by nails straight through the iron and sealed with the compound. Paddles were wooden shafts with unfeathered blades like table-tennis bats. They seemed quite unstable craft but were used extensively in this area for fishing and transport.

Fiji is quite hilly and mountainous and this chain of islands was no exception, having rocky coastlines frequently interspersed with beaches. The rest of the party hove into site fairly soon and we made for the nearest beach for a rest and to decide our next move. The large scale charts showed a village close by on the next island of Waya so we decided to try it out to see what sort of reception we would get. Although we'd had lots of information about life in Fiji from Peter it was still a little hard to comprehend. Some tourist books suggested the visitor put up by a native should pay an equivalent amount that he would normally pay for a hotel, while others suggested it was not the done thing. We didn't know, and the next week or so we could have unintentionally offended some people. (Some very straight talking a week later by a chief's wife put us right on this point).

The wind was up to about 10 or 15 knots as we rounded the point into Natawa village and ran into the foreshore of mud at low tide. We were immediately spotted and the shoreline was thronged by the entire village as we carried the first kayak ashore. The rest of the kayaks were grabbed by the villagers and we finally felt we had arrived in Fiji, chatting to the locals, surrounded by thatched Bures. A rather nice young lady with a baby offered to have the lot of as for the night, but the headman took charge and insisted we use his house. Here we found it is the normal custom for the whole Fijian family to move out of their home and stay with relatives, leaving us the free use of the building.

The typical village Bure (pronounced boo-ray, roughly speaking ) is a single room with thatched walls and roof, several windows (some glassless) and usually two doors. They are very cool due to the thatching, and the floor is very finely broken coral (pieces about the size of marbles) covered with a woven grass mat - very comfortable to sit on which is just as well because there is almost no furniture. Mostly they have beds behind curtains, and the occasional table and shelves and cupboards. Like in Japan with their Tatami floors, it is extremely bad form to walk on the mats with shoes on, and during the whole two months we only had a couple of very brief lapses of memory about this custom.

Cooking is done outside on an open fire, except for a few more affluent families who had a small cookhouse - still with an open fire. Meals are eaten in the bure where a tablecloth is spread on the floor and you sit cross legged round it while the hostess serves it up. Very few of our hosts would actually eat with us, but would eat after we had finished. We found this very difficult at first - to eat while our hosts just sat and watched but it seemed impossible to get them to do otherwise. The staple diet seemed to be fish and cassava - cassava being a rather bland root vegetable something like a potato, and I must confess by the end of two months I was thoroughly sick of it. It was also a little surprising sometimes to find the host family rushing out to their local store to buy tinned fish to feed us - it appeared that it was more economical to sell their fresh fish to the big tourist hotels and buy Scottish salmon or something similar - although this did only happen on a couple of occasions.

Our most unusual meal was probably the morning some of us peered out the tent openings and saw we were surrounded by several solid pairs of black legs. Every single square inch of land in Fiji belongs to someone and the owners of this particular spot had been informed we had arrived late in the day and were there to invite us back to the village some miles away. When we arose they proceeded to demonstrate how they feed themselves while away from the village, and very quickly dug up some cassava and dropped a few coconuts and cooked them on big green leaves - it was quite surprising to find that we all enjoyed it - it wasn't too bad at all.

Back to our first night at Natawa village - our first experience of the real Fijian way of life. We ate under an open sided roofed structure complete with a large table and chairs and then retired fairly soon as it had been a long day. The next morning we wandered here and there through the village which sprawled along the shore because the land rose very steeply behind it - halfway up the hill there was a concrete block church. There were many pigpens built almost at the waters edge around the shore slightly away from the village, and we later found pigs were kept in many villages.

There was no electricity, nothing mechanical, no roads, just a very basic simple life existing on fishing and basic agriculture. We found them very pleasant and happy, living a slow seemingly casual life style although it became obvious during the trip that they do work a lot harder than first appearances would indicate. We came across plots of land dug and sown by hand, we saw the men out for days at a time fishing very long hours, we saw the women spending weeks weaving grass mats to sell at the markets for a mere pittance. The villages were amazingly clean and the population pretty healthy, and the children were certainly not shy in coming forward to be photographed, or to put on an impromptu sing-song as happened some weeks later.

After seeing most of what there was to be seen at Natawa we decided to move on to the next islands about 7 or 8 miles away even though there was a bit of a breeze still blowing from the day before. In Tasmania we would have considered it to be no more than a light sea breeze but it caused a few problems to those who hadn't been training at all. There was one capsize as we left the shore, and then a couple found the going a bit tough as we worked our way along the shore towards the end of Waya Island, so much so that it was obvious we weren't going to make the next island so we opted to run in for shelter behind the end of this island. This was a good chance to run off before the wind and try the sails out for the first time. These were in all shapes and sizes and colours, and I was amazed to see Alison, who'd been having a bit of trouble in the conditions in her North Sea Tourer, put up one of the biggest sails in our party. She mightn't have had much experience at sea canoeing but she wasn't scared to have a go and was off like a rocket downwind. This was OK for a while as the wind was on one side but as we ran more square on before having to jibe round the point she came to grief and capsized. Of course the water was warmer than anything we'd paddled in before so we put her back in her kayak and proceeded at a slower pace round to a very small beach a few hundred metres behind the point and set up camp again.

I had worked out that we needed to average about 7 miles a day to get right round the whole string of the Yasawa Islands and be back at Sea Shell Cove Resort in time for Steve to fly home and wasn't expecting any real trouble achieving this figure - as 15 or 20 miles constitute an average day trip back home - but today we had only made 3 miles.

A wander along the shore found another beach complete with a large coconut grove and a dilapidated bure - sort of a beach shack to live in when harvesting the coconuts. At low tide a few children appeared and spent some time fishing and playing on the long stretch of flat rocks in front of our small patch of beach. Towards evening the wind dropped off and we spent a quiet evening under the stars.

The next day was back to the calm sunny days that we came to expect for most of the trip and while waiting for the rest to pack I decided to tighten up a bolt on my rudder. It held the cross bar onto the rudder stock and although not very loose had been annoying me slightly for some months now. It is a stainless steel bolt into a threaded hole in aluminium, and promptly sheered off at the first attempt to tighten it - damn! I now needed a power drill or good hand drill to put some self-tappers in either side of the bolt to re-attach the cross bar - I had plenty of spare screws and tools, but no drill so would have to go without a rudder till we could locate some tools at one of our stops.

Finally we were ready to leave and made our way across towards Narara Island. On the way one of the members came alongside me to look at my chart and when he'd finished I dug my paddle in hard to accelerate away and the aluminium shaft promptly snapped in the middle - it just wasn't my day. Still, it wasn't any trouble paddling with half a paddle C1 style for the rest of the morning. Up in the passage between the next group of islands we came across another tourist ship with the usual load of tourists sunbaking and swimming on the nearest beach. A lot of the tourists were really a sight to see - absolutely white skin and huge pot-bellies and looking as if they'd have a heart attack if they walked more than a hundred metres - see what the evils of money do to you! We lunched on the SW end of Naviti Island and I glassed my paddle back together during this stop.

Camped the night in Sa Bay and talked to a local canoeist in his iron canoe on his way home from a days fishing. This one had a fruit bat clutching a stick on the rear of his kayak - apparently a delicacy in Fiji. We were apparently camping on his land but he said it would be OK.

(To be continued ) 

In the last issue we were making slow progress along the Yasawa Islands, short easy hops from island to island. The day after I broke my rudder and paddle we pulled into a village about lunch time but did not find a drill to repair my rudder, but while we were there arranged to have the local ‘Post Office’ opened so Cec could use the phone – the only one on the island. She had discovered she had mislaid several hundred dollars that should have been in her bag but weren’t. Thinking she might have left it at the Anchorage Resort, our last stop before leaving the mainland, she gave them a ring, but no luck – and wrote it off to bad luck.

 John amused a few of the local lads by letting them climb all over the kayak some metres offshore and then doing a roll to throw them all off. It was also an excellent test of his hatch covers as they were forced under water regularly, and he was surprised so little water entered the compartments.

 We continued on to Turtle Island. We had heard that this was one of the more exclusive resorts in Fiji – something like $360 a night. It certainly was a beautiful island with a good beach, but we were only on it a few short minutes before we were asked to move around the point to the staff beach. The manager was quite friendly and explained that his guests were paying for privacy and expected to get it. He then had a power lead run down to my kayak and gave me the run of a well equipped workshop to make my repairs while we had lunch.

 When commenting on the seemingly high price of accommodation the manager said they were about to put it up a few hundred dollars a night to attempt to keep the riff-raff away – they are only concerned with big spenders.

 Naturally we decided not to stay and went on to the next island which is partly owned by the ‘Blue Lagoon Cruise Line’, which runs cruises all around the Yasawa Islands, and has this particular beach very well equipped for beach parties and BBQs. There were two ships anchored when we arrived and fortunately contained some Aussies who promptly handed us cold beers, very welcome in the heat of the day. However, the Fijian officials were not nearly so friendly and ordered us off the beach immediately – YOU GO, NOW!

 We went, along the beach past where he indicated their property finished, and set up camp. Had some rolling practice in the lovely warm clear water, as well as a swim. Just on dark a ‘chief’ and his daughter approached from the opposite direction and told us we were trespassing and had to move onto the beach. We were camped on a nice bit of grass near a deserted bure, and after a lengthy discussion via his daughter as interpreter, and a gift of Kava, we were allowed to stay put. There were a few foreign yachts anchored nearby and some of our younger crowd had a bit of a session with some of their crews.

 Next morning I went off a bit early to try and find the ‘chief’ and thank him for letting us camp, but I couldn’t find any sign of habitation visible from the sea at all. After paddling along part of the shore and back again I noticed a figure on the shore and upon closer inspection it turned out to be a small boy. I landed but could not make him understand I was looking for the chief or headman as I really suspect he was. But the boy invited me up to his house for breakfast and I followed him through the undergrowth to one solitary bure. There was a slight embarrassment on both sides as the lady of the house discovered she had an extra mouth to feed, and I discovered she was a widow living there by herself, but with her two children home on school holidays for a few weeks. I explained that I had already had breakfast and sat on the floor talking to them for half an hour or so as they had theirs. It consisted of boiled white rice well strained, and a large bowl of very well sugared black tea. You take a spoon full of rice and dip it in the tea and then eat it.

 When I guessed the rest of the canoeists would be on the water I made my departure and found they had just gone past, heading for the next island, Narcula. Paddled along its eastern shore with a light easterly wind and just after lunch landed on Sawa-I-Lau Island. This was a pleasant surprise as we found some beautiful underwater caves in the centre of the island. Apparently this is where some of the scenes from the film ‘Blue Lagoon’ were shot. The island is very steep but has this enormous complex of caves in it - parts of them have light coming through large openings in the roof – the main cave being about the size of half a tennis court and very well lit up by sunlight.

 An Australian yacht was anchored nearby and we were informed that the nearest village has control over this cave and we should pay them a dollar a person for seeing it. We were heading in there for the night anyway and must have presented a beautiful and unusual sight as we approached the village under full sails. Most of the village were on the foreshore to greet us and although a little shy at first soon were very friendly and offered us the use of a bure for our stay.

 This village (Tamasua) seemed a little more affluent and organised than some we had seen and even ran to a cold shower cubicle out in the middle of the village. It looked a little strange to watch the head of someone just above the fence as they showered and washed clothes at the same time. It was the best we’d felt for some days.

 It was at this village that we took part in our first real KAVA ceremony. We had been told it was a special ritual but hadn’t had time to find out much about it. It goes way back to the days of the head-hunters, and the visiting party is represented by a spokesman who spins a yarn about the travellers having come from far away specially to visit the chief etc, etc. The chief and his advisers sit in a semicircle opposite our group and spokesman and the whole thing is done in Fijian so we didn’t understand a word of it – but its obviously a very, very formal occasion. The chief’s spokesman then replies and makes you welcome, and this is followed by drinking Kava. Kava was likened to muddy water by most of our group – it is not alcoholic but is supposed to have a slight numbing affect. It is made from powdering up root of a bush and then this is put in a cloth and soaked in a bowl of water and squeezed continually till it is good and strong. The hands doing the squeezing are continually dipping in the water as well which seemed to put some people off the whole procedure, but we all had to drink it, a bowl at a time.

 As I said, a very formal occasion, and yet the chief’s son had a twinkle in his eye as he watched us. He had been educated overseas and only recently returned, and could see that we found the whole process a totally new experience.

 The village then turned out for a practice Touch Rugby match which some of our younger fellows had a go at, followed by a church service as it was Sunday. Later we were summoned by our hostess who spread a tablecloth on the floor and served up little dumplings made of cassava and coconut in a sort of golden syrup. Next came cups of tea, and cooked cassava and tinned mackerel. Several young girls stayed on after the meal, talking to us, but one by one we flaked out on our lilos so they eventually left.

 The next morning we left in a rising wind to visit the caves again on our way north up the eastern side of the last island in the chain – Yasawa Island itself. The couple in the yacht came over to show us where to go in the caves and we took masks and snorkelling gear. The couple has been on the yacht for 5 years, and the 5 month old baby had been born aboard.

 It was a mighty experience to dive underwater and come up in a dark cave the other side of the rock wall, but as our eyes adjusted to the much dimmer light we could see this was a fair size too with numerous passages off in different directions. By ducking your head under water you could immediately see the sun streaming in to the main cave, with the underwater projections clearly silhouetted in the marvellously blue water. In another part we could scramble along a narrow passage above water level and then drop into another pool and have a long swim through a tunnel back towards the daylight again – a truly magnificent experience.

 Leaving here we entered a large bay with reasonable surf in it, but most of us chose the quiet route in the deep channel without any breakers. John decided it was a good chance to do something interesting after so much flat water and chose the biggest surf to go through – unfortunately followed by Alison who promptly came to grief and was swept ashore. She was duly rescued and led out the quieter channel but experienced difficulty in the biggish swell and wind out at sea and was taken in tow to the next beach where we camped. Found a very attractive campsite under some huge spreading leafy trees and spent the rest of the afternoon with a bit of diving, walking and photographing.

 That night there was a lively discussion about the progress we were making. John felt that we were spending three hours in the morning packing, then paddling two miles, and camping again. He really wasn’t far wrong although had been warned before leaving Tasmania that there were some beginners coming along. He admitted that, but hadn’t believed they could be that bad. He was all for the faster members of the group to take off and do the circumnavigation of Fiji at a more reasonable speed, leaving the rest to go as far as they could in the time available. Steve felt that he should leave because he had a plane to catch and we didn’t look like being back in time for it at our present pace, but said he didn’t like weakening the party by leaving.

 It was finally decided that Steve and John would go off together the next day, Steve to fly home, and John to do Fiji on his own. I think he always considered this a possibility as he was not here for the full 8 weeks, only 6, and wouldn’t have been able to do the full circumnavigation with the rest of us. Kerry was also very cheesed off at our pace, particularly in view of her training effort, but elected to maintain the strength of the group. I’d already privately decided that Shirl and Alison would have to drop out when we got back to Sea Shell Cove Resort – they obviously weren’t going to handle the expected headwinds all the way along the southern coast on the way to Suva. They would have still done well over a hundred miles of paddling over a two week period and seen a fair sample of the Fijian way of life and shouldn’t be too disappointed, and in any case they had let themselves down by not training seriously for the trip. 

(To be continued)

Next section missing. Not on the computer but still available in print in the old Sea Canoeist. I will find it and put it in here as time permits.

 This must have been about the only time it rained during our time in Fiji, and it poured during the night. Kerry hadn't put a tent fly up and her borrowed tent was awash. After a few laps on her thermarest she started bailing out. I took the opportunity to soap up and have a good shower before we managed to get a fire going for breakfast. Paddled off to another resort, Dick's Place, where Kerry and Cec were invited aboard a yacht from NZ for a hot drink. We gave them our large scale charts of the Yasawa Islands as we no longer had a use for them and they were far better than anything they had on board. Ray and Shirl continued on to Sea-Shell Cove, our original starting point, where we would reduce our party down to paddlers who were likely to be able to complete the circumnavigation of the main island of Fiji.

 The rest of us followed later, and had a short stop on a small coral cay called Tavuna Island. This was Friday, and we learned that Steve and John were there on Monday, and were seen in Nandi on Tuesday, so Steve could have made his plane in time if he'd stayed with us till the last day or so. We were still only covering relatively short distances, but longer than our first week or two. Tavuna was a lovely little island, privately owned, and had some good surf on the outside beach. From here it was a short hop to Sea-Shell Cove where we arrived shortly after Ray and Shirl; and Kerry, Cec, and myself booked into a small Bure, the last one. Peter and Alison camped, and R & S booked into the dormitory.

 The next morning we went into Nandi early for shopping to restock the food supplies, and for a bit of duty free shopping as well. The Indian shop-keepers were rather overpowering and I personally wouldn't recommend buying without shopping around for a few days. What appeared to be good deals were very expensive compared to later prices after we'd been to Suva. We had so much gear we got a taxi back to the resort, and on the way the Indian driver took us to his home for a lemon drink, and told us how they survived the cyclone last year. Back at the resort we spent most of the afternoon talking to Peter & Yvonne Tiffany - my original contact before leaving Australia - who dropped in to hear how we were going.

 The next day was our 23rd in Fiji and we were now starting on the circumnavigation. Shirl and Alison were not continuing on, but I feel they'd had a good run for their money - three weeks in a very unspoilt part of Fiji. But their total lack of training in Australia did not allow them time to complete the next part of the trip. Peter was only coming as far as Suva and then had to fly home to Sydney, and Shirl and Alison were going to Bus around a bit before meeting us in Suva.

 The reef was about a mile out to sea at the start, but gradually came closer as we travelled south, following the coast-line. Had a brief stop on a small island near the shore before going further along for a long lunch break. After lunch we got out of the shallow water into a deep bay that had a wide opening out into the sea proper. We headed out through this and witnessed some huge surf over the reef each side of the break. A real ocean swell was causing huge roller-coaster waves in the gap which was the first time the other paddlers, except Cec and myself, had experienced anything like it. None of us were tempted to go near the surf on either side as the rather vicious dumpers would have very quickly completely smashed larger boats to tiny splinters. So we turned shoreward again and paddled inside the reef till we came to a beautiful grassy campsite, after a capsize or two.

 This southern area was different to the rest of Fiji, because of the large southerly swell and the reef with many gaps in it. The gaps are formed where ever there is fresh water flowing, i.e. river mouths. But the whole reef has huge breakers over it and the water coming over the reef then flows along the shore in either direction till it finds a gap where it can flow back out to sea again. This causes quite fast little currents along the shore, where at low tide it is sometimes so shallow we were scratching our kayaks on the coral. But at the gaps where it is deep water again the fast flowing water is like a rapid in a river, flowing down off the shallow coral. Throw a few small waves in here and it was enough to cause a capsize or two. It seemed funny to have to paddle hard up a rapid at these places to get onto the coral shelf to continue along the shore.

The next day we stayed inside the reef all morning, passing a small village where they told us John had gone past two days ago, and also told us the Fijian Hotel was only a little further on. There the staff welcomed us and told us we could use the showers so we did and got into dry clothes to have a look around, and lunched at one of their restaurants. After lunch we went out through the gap, heading for the large river and town of the same name, Sigatoka. Several yachts passed us going in the opposite direction. Somehow we missed the river entrance and gingerly made our way in through a small gap in the next bay and headed for some European type houses. One had a very spacious lawn that looked ideal for camping on but the house looked very unused. The one next door had servants at home, and we waited for Dr Cecily Hands to arrive after work. She was a lovely old dear, been here for years, after living in India. She rang around and eventually located the owner of the next door property who gave us permission to lift a few louvers out if we wanted to get in and use the place.

 However, Cecily had a small detached room in her yard which she opened up and we used it for cooking and eating in, and sleeping as well except for Cec & myself who went back through the fence and camped next to the kayaks - it was a small room. Ray, Peter and myself checked out a nearby bar after tea.

 Cec and Ray bused into town the next morning while Kerry and Peter and myself walked the few kms. Our monthly visas were nearly up so we renewed them while shopping in Sigatoka. In the afternoon we spent a bit of time raking leaves on Cecily's lawn, and then invited her out to tea with us at the Crows Nest. This was a marvelous sea-food restaurant with a lot of atmosphere and a very friendly owner - probably one of our best nights in Fiji. The owner of where we were camped dined there as well, with the manager of a nearby hotel. Back home after tea I was presented with some cards and cake and presents for my birthday.

 Left at 0700 next morning and went outside the reef. Kerry had lost her voice and I felt very unwell and could barely manage to paddle in the afternoon so we camped early but were disturbed all afternoon by many curious villagers and their children.

All along the southern coast we were paddling into a SE wind, quite fresh at times, and the next day was no exception. I was fully recovered but Kerry still suffering from some wog, never the less she paddled quite strongly all day - no doubt due to the immense amount of training she'd done the year before - a solid ball of muscle. We paddled as close to the breakers as we dared, being careful not to get TOO close as they crashed over the reef. About lunch time we found a large gap and went inshore to discover a deserted resort with a launch anchored in the bay. As we lunched ashore in the grounds an old man told us it had been deserted since the cyclone the year before. It still showed massive amounts of damage with walls stoved in and the swimming pool full of debris.

 Went outside the reef again after lunch for a fair distance before coming inside again to camp. The wind dropped late in the day and we found another top campsite under a big leafy tree leaning out over the beach. All a bit tired so crashed early.

 Left at 0900 and went outside again as it was usually too shallow inside in this area. But outside the reef we found we were going further offshore than before as the reef extended much further out round many points. The wind really got up today and made it very hard work, and although we could see an island up ahead it seemed to take ages to get there. We eventually found a gap in the reef and wound our way into the island, Serua, where there was a good sized village. Here the assistant chief fed us tea and crackers and butter and of course casava, and gave us permission to put our tents up in the village square. We did so but Ray's collapsed under the strong wind and he had to put it in the shelter of the reservoir. We then wandered over the small island and visited the chief's vacant house on top of the hill, all the time followed by a cluster of little girls.

 After we'd eaten, a man arrived with some fish and dalo which some of us managed to eat a bit, although some had already crashed after the hard day. The dogs were very noisy all night and so was the tent flapping till early morning.

 We were given Milo in a nearby house before our departure at 0615 on a very calm sea, and paddled quietly along the shore enjoying the view. During one of our rests ashore we landed near a big sandstone church and school. It was a Catholic boarding school for girls, but the sandstone on closer inspection seemed to be a very thin covering over a stone building. By 0930 we arrived at Pacific Harbour at the Beachcomber Hotel but it was not a very friendly place - not like Mana or the Fijian where we had been made to feel very welcome. However we showered under an open-air shower by the pool and changed in the toilets and boozed in one of their bars. Cec and I got a bus to the Cultural centre where we went on a boat tour of an artificial island where many aspects of the old life was being re-enacted. Quite well done, and the display of fire-lighting using two pieces of wood was very good and looked so easy.

Peter and Ray and Kerry went for a paddle up the river while I checked out some nearby apartments and booked one for the night and paddled mine and Cec's kayak along the beach to it. When the others arrived back from their paddle we carried all the kayaks up to the house and then showered and walked miles up to the Golf Club where there were supposed to be cheap drinks and free nibbles but it was a bit of a take so we caught a bus home again.

 Another good day without any wind and we just paddled along slowly, enjoying the sunshine. At morning tea time Ray commented about the late Miss Reid who was dawdling along enjoying the day immensely - Kerry took this to heart and immediately paddled off at high speed with Ray in hot pursuit while we finished our morning tea. We could see them in front of us for the rest of the morning - every time Ray slowed down so would Kerry, but then Ray would start to increase slowly trying to catch Kerry unawares but she would paddle faster as well, staying in the lead. I eventually had to catch up with her and tell her it was lunch time.

 Lunched on Nangana Island and had a swim to cool off. We were now very close to Suva but didn't want to arrive late in the afternoon and have to rush around and find somewhere to stay so we headed for an island a few km before Suva. This had one house on it, originally a European occupant but now Fijian. They invited us to stay the night after we asked if we could camp and we had a friendly time sitting up half the night with the fijian fisherman. He pounded a lot of Kava in the afternoon and we had a good session with him - nice guy with nice young family.

 The next day he was taking his fairly large motor boat across to Suva to fly off to some other island to help with a harvest of some sort so he loaded two of the kayaks on board and we towed three. He dropped us at the Royal Suva Yacht Club which we had contacted before leaving Australia and we were made honorary members for our stay in Suva. This was our first chance to really empty the kayaks completely, and Alison and Shirl came down to the Y.C. and we took a taxi back to the apartment they had booked into, and we booked in for three nights. I spent all the next day checking the kayaks for leaks, and altered Kerry's footrest which was a bit too long for comfort. It was also a chance to catch up on washing, and we had a good look at how far we still had to go and how long we had to do it. From memory I think we had to average about 7nm a day for about three weeks - no great hardship.

                  (To be continued)    Actually never written up - sorry. Problems in my person life interferred.

 
Return to home page