Kailopa He slept little, turning over in his mind a great decision. Palau, his daughter-in-law had consented but worried that it was perhaps too great a distance. His son, Batiki, had offered no opinion other than to ask "Dad, what if something happened to the boat?" Here was an adventure the like of which he had long dreamed, right here in his hands. He had only a few hours to decide. Maybe he was too old now for the journey. That cannot be, he thought. I am only two years older than the skipper and I have much experience. I must take this opportunity. I will get no better. But will Batiki agree? His nephew, Levi, had observed that it was the start of the hurricane season. "Most of the hurricanes that have hit Fiji started around Rotuma and Tuvalu, just where this boat that you know nothing about is going." Others had said he was crazy to go in so small a boat. But this was his dream, to make a passage in a small sailing vessel, not just among the islands of Fiji which he had done many times, often alone, but across an ocean to another country. What could be better than a passage to his home island in Tuvalu? The thought was intoxicating. Sleep finally came. In the morning Batiki was not enthusiastic about the idea but said, "Is up to you, Dad. We know this is your dream. We know you love the sea, the wide ocean. I cannot stand in your way." Levi too had softened. "It's a good chance uncle. Take it." "Yes but the most important is that my passport is up to date." Kailopa looked troubled. "I think not. My passport will expire at the end this year, 2016." Batiki examined the passport. "Yes Dad, it does expire as you say. But this is 2015. You a have a whole year left." On Navire we were sure Kailopa's family would not agree and busied ourselves with departure preparations when Janet's phone rang. It was Kailopa. "I will come." A few minutes later Kailopa heaved on board his suit case, a box of food and his broad smile. =20 I think we both made a good decision. Kailopa has been wonderful company, relentlessly cheerful, generous with stories of his people and fishing methods. He has a remarkable ability to sit quietly and observe, often for hours at a time. He was the first to notice we had a fish on the line and to sight the smudgy outline of Rotuma. He knows the tides from observing the moon and the approaching weather from the cloud formations, the swell and rings around the moon. In his village on Kioa he is a radically independent thinker. He believes there should be a separation of church from leadership and management of his community. "The community should run itself and the church run itself. But they mix the two together. We have three churches on Kioa but the biggest is the Methodist. The Methodist pastor lives on the island and gets his electricity free. Is a dollar a week for one bulb, two for a fridge or tv. Most people have one, maybe two bulbs. The pastor, he has one for every room, maybe seven or eight bulbs." Kailopa rolls his eyes and his voice is more angry. "You add that up. A lot of money over a year. Free. Council pays. Same for fuel for the boat. If he goes to Labasa or Savusavu for meetings he gets the council boat and his fuel is free. Why?" "The pastor gets $2 a month from every church household. But once a year is pastor's day. He comes away with fifteen or twenty thousand on just the one day. A lot of pressure to pay lots. Name gets read out and goes in the book with how much you give. Lot of pressure. When you fishing the best fish goes to the pastor. He gets a lot more than he can use. Does he give this back to the community? Maybe to the widows or others who cannot go fishing? No. He feeds it to the pigs. =20 He has several times turned down invitations to take an honoured place at one of the posts of the maneapa, the community hall. He tells them he would attend only the non-religious gatherings. The rest of the time his post would be empty. "You know what they do?" he says. "At New Year they meet for a week, just chatting and feasting, chatting and feasting. What a waste of time. They should be at their farms or fishing, earning the school fees for their children." He shakes his head. =20

One day Kailopa and I decided to hitch around the island. We walked to the one road that circled the island and turned right expecting a vehicle to come our way, any minute, but none came. It was hot and getting decidedly hotter. We sought out the shaded parts of the dirt road and ambled on in hope. The sweat ran down my back, poured down my front, dripped from my nose and stung my eyes. No car passed in either direction. We took an interest in the house that slowly separated itself from the thick foliage on the seaward side.=20 A man in the driveway hailed us, "Bula." We both replied, "Bula, bula." "Come. Have a seat." He beckoned us to a shaded table and presently iced water was brought by his wife. We passed a very pleasant hour with our host who, it turned out, had had a lot to do with Rotuman politics. It was he who had lobbied for Rotuma to be made a Fijian Port of Entry. "So that you could trade with Tuvalu." I chipped in, showing that I knew a thing or two. "That was never going to work. We didn't grow enough produce to make the ship, Tuvaluan, economically viable. That business folded soon after we got the port of entry status. No, we lobbied for that status for all the development that goes with it - airport expansion, new hospital, better roading. Infrastructure. And we're getting it. You'll see the hospital under construction if you ever go to the top of the island." When our host discovered our interest in seeing his island he suggested he drive us. Our lifted spirits dropped when he realised he didn't have enough petrol for the journey and, being Sunday, gas stations would be closed. But a moment later they were lifted again. "Ah, but I can get some from Boaz on the other side of the island. He'll be there." "How can you be sure he'll be there and have you enough fuel to get half way round the island?" "Oh he'll be there. Should be enough fuel for half the island. Let's go." Our host, I wish I could remember his name, gave us a thorough tour of the island, stopping to show us sights and take photos and providing a running commentary. Rotuma is a mountainous island, lush and green with classic palm-studded, white sand beaches. The soil is rich and easily produces an abundance of fruit and vegetables. We knew that we would soon be cruising among coral atolls where the soil is poor and water often scares. I wanted to soak up as much as possible this idyllic, exceptionally beautiful place. The island gave a well-cared for impression, clean, very little litter, lawns mowed and gardens tended. All was as close as I'd come to the perfect, postcard Pacific Island of everyone's dreams.=20 Our driver never mentioned the petrol situation but I watched the fuel needle move inexorably toward empty and began wondering about where we might spend the night, should it come to that. We passed no petrol stations. I had no idea how far around the island we were. With the needle hard on the empty pin we stopped outside a house. Our driver came back shaking his head. "No petrol. All empty." Then he disappeared into another house, re-emerged and drove us a few houses further into the village. =46rom this he returned with a two litre milk bottle of petrol which he poured into the tank. Remarkably this got us home. Postscript Since leaving Rotuma we have had consistent unconfirmed reports that the port of entry status for the island has been withdrawn.

Rotuma, the final Fijian Island=09 Position: 12 29.239s 177 07.227e (Posted from Majuro September 2016) David We arrived at Rotuma early this morning, negotiating our way through coral=20 heads, to drop anchor in five metres of turquoise liquid jewels over clear white=20 sand. Black, chunky volcanic rock cloaked in palms and huge mango trees with=20 virgin sand oases tucked among the muscular rock. *** Janet Anchor down on this last piece of Fiji, I squeezed in an hour of sleep but a visit to=20 shore was a more pressing need than a longer nap. We wanted access to internet=20 to get a wider range of weather forecasts than we could get aboard. But first, a=20 long overdue shower was in order. Ladder down, lifelines down, solar shower=20 rigged in the cockpit, I dove over the side. The water was silky on my skin, the=20 warmest temperature to date now that we were 12 degrees of latitude south of=20 the equator. To give you some perspective, Wellington is at a chilly 42 degrees=20 south. I climbed out of the water, soaped up, leapt in again and washed off. Then=20 a fresh water rinse under the camping shower and layers of sweat and salt=20 lathered off. I felt clean, for about an hour, till the next outpouring of sweat=20 liberally coated me. David wanted to stay with the boat to make sure the anchor was set safely, so=20 Kailopa and I headed to shore in the dinghy. There was one other yacht in the=20 anchorage, a French boat, Menkar, with a father and son team. We stopped for a=20 brief chat about weather. We'd been hoping to leave on Monday of the following=20 week but Giles and Sylvan said there was very light wind and it had too much=20 east in it, which the weather map later confirmed.=20 We were now in a band of weather called the Inter Tropical Convergence Zone=20 (ITCZ) otherwise known as the doldrums or horse latitudes. This is an area=20 where the northern hemisphere trade winds meet the southern hemisphere=20 ones. This creates an area of low pressure with light winds or no wind at all, and=20 is often punctuated by unpredictable squalls. These mostly hit at night, usually,=20 accompanied by torrential rain and a sustained blast of wind from any direction.=20 They last about ten minutes. This band of low pressure floats up and down=20 between the north of Fiji and the equator, and is sometimes broad and=20 sometimes quite narrow in width. Ideally we would set sail north when it was=20 narrow to reduce the chance of being becalmed and having to motor. If the cloud=20 we saw on the charts was the ITCZ it would be squally out there. We changed our=20 plans, again. *** Stepping on land after being at sea was like going from black and white to full=20 colour. The sea was bright blue, the sand intense white. Behind the beach there=20 was a park-like area laid out with vibrant green coconut palms, then the burst of=20 bright colours of the gardens in the village. Just along the road we met a=20 Jehovah's Witness family (Kailopa's religion) who were just lovely, Leta and=20 Funmanu, and their son Ian. We arranged with Ian about where to watch the=20 rugby, the final game of the World Cup, on early the next morning. *** David We started our second day here at 4 am, ashore watching the All Blacks win the=20 Rugby World Cup. Wahoo!! =20 We meandered back to our dinghy in blissful euphoria, as though we had=20 personally secured the win. Our first glimpse of the anchorage was of Menkar=20 slewing down the face of a two-metre swell, surely headed for the black rock=20 shore. High on the crest she slid down the back of the surging wave which broke=20 in a cloud of foam and green water, Menkar rolling gunnel to gunnel but safe. Janet and I picked a moment between surges to push our wee dinghy through the=20 foam into deeper water. The darling outboard started first pull and we motored=20 out to Navire, also rolling alarmingly. Where had this frightening surge come=20 from? We had to get out of there. We shipped the outboard and dinghy in double quick time while close by the=20 supply ship, rolling hard on the concrete wharf, prepared to leave. We had=20 wondered and worried about how this small ship would maneuver so close to us.=20 Perhaps the wind would catch the bow as she tried reversing out and force her=20 down onto Navire. I had little time to worry about this as we wound in our=20 anchor. As it turned out she made a graceful exit stern first, well clear of Navire. In the meantime Menkar noticed their own predicament and were getting under=20 way.=20 Our two yachts and the small ship left the anchorage together. All re-anchored=20 well out from shore and the breaking rollers. *** Janet The French came for a drink. They were great company and they too were=20 heading north. We communed about weather. Another boat arrived that evening.=20 Exodus is a 40' catamaran with an American family aboard. Deanne and Tim a=20 pair of aeronautical engineers, and their two teenage boys. They were to become=20 our close companions for the next two months.=20 *** Monday Nov 2.=20 So near and yet so far. We slid up and over the swells as they rolled into the=20 anchorage, the stunning white sand beaches, black rocks and palms trees less=20 than half a mile away but it was just too rough to go and anchor closer to shore.=20 I woke at four that morning and downloaded another weather forecast- the next=20 two days good wind but then going light. We were hoping that with lighter winds=20 the waves would stop wrapping around into the bay, and we could get in to=20 shore. Usually we use the internet to get our weather from a number of sources -=20 Windyty, Metvuw, New Zealand Metservice surface pressure charts, and more=20 latterly Hawaiian ones that cover the equator region. But at Rotuma we had to=20 rely solely on what we could get through the single sideband radio. We have a=20 modem that translates radio signals into something the computer reads. Our=20 main weather information source is grib files. On a map of the world on the=20 computer screen I highlight the area I want a forecast for, identify the duration=20 and at what hourly intervals I want the forecast for. Usually I get seven days at=20 12 hour intervals. I often get up in the night to get a good signal which means a=20 fast download. During the day its often impossible to get a connection, mornings=20 and evenings between six and nine are an okay signal and speed but its hard to=20 find a free channel as everyone else in the Pacific is using it at that time.=20 *** The constant roll of the boat made me feel like I was on the alert all the time. I=20 didn't feel safe out there compared to being tucked in the bay. However Kailopa=20 didn't seem concerned at all and sat in the cockpit and fished patiently for hours.=20 He really was serenity embodied. A salutary lesson to me, this perpetually busy=20 Palangi.=20 He caught us a pilot fish (Remora) for lunch. This skinny fish has a suction pad on=20 the underside of its head, which it uses to stick to sharks. It stuck to the chopping=20 board while I was cutting through its leathery skin. I asked Kailopa how to cook=20 it and he said, "Boil it." as they do with most foods here. Despite thinking 'Surely=20 boiling fish must make it tough,' I put the chunks of flesh, skin and all into a pot=20 and boiled them. As I took the pieces out of the water the skin just fell off. I put a=20 chunk of fish into my mouth and to my delight it was tender, succulent and=20 sweet. We had a futile attempt at taking Navire into the bay but it was still too rolly and=20 squally and we retreated further out again. *** November 4 David and Kailopa toured the island. See next post. *** Nov 5, No Guy Fawkes celebration for us in this land, despite it too being colonised by=20 the British, but what a party we attended for our last night on Rotuma, our final=20 night in Fiji. David had been in to the wharf to collect Kailopa and came back without him. "There's a kava party on at Phillippe's house, Kailopa is there," he said. "Want to=20 come?"=20 "Love to." I'd been on board all day preparing to go to sea and was glad to get a=20 change of scenery. On shore we walked through the coconut palm grove talking about the likelihood=20 of a coconut falling on our head. Along the road we saw Phillippe's house, a grand=20 affair amongst the typical small Fijian houses. The only sign of life in the rapidly=20 falling dusk was a rhythmic banging sound. We'd been in Fiji long enough to=20 know the sound of kava being pounded. David peered around the back of the=20 house and there was Kailopa sitting on a mat with a group of Rotumans,=20 gathered around a kava bowl. Two of the men were playing guitars. A lively woman, Rikiti, greeted me warmly, having met David earlier. She was of=20 Banabian (Kiribati) descent, from the Fijian/Banabian island of Rabi. We were=20 immediately offered bowls of kava. Despite being evening and being near the=20 shore it was hot and sweat dripped down my face. Rikiti disappeared around the=20 corner of the house and came back five minutes later with woven fans and=20 mosquito coils By then I had covered myself from head to toe with a sulu to=20 prevent the insects feasting on me. "Every night we do this," she said, "after working our at jobs on the farm we=20 come here and have kava and music."=20 What, no rushing home to cook dinner, answering emails, cleaning house? I could=20 learn from this. *** November 6, 2015 6am ritual. Computer on, radio on, Airmail programme up, select the gribs, send,=20 connect. I was still looking for a weather window to get us to Tuvalu. There were=20 several conflicting forces. For sailing ideally we should wait for wind, from a=20 useful direction too. For seeing Rotuma we should stay another week and keep=20 exploring. For Kailopa we should get him to Tuvalu. For this time of year we=20 should get out of there as it was now cyclone season and we were still in the=20 zone.=20 In the end we used the "go anyway, the forecast is often wrong" strategy, which=20 works as often as not. We got word to the officials in the village on the other side=20 of the island that we wanted to check out of Fiji. They came aboard the next=20 morning to carry out the formalities giving our passports a final stamp. We were=20 on our way north into new territory. ***