Toba Basiga, VitiLevu to Rukuruku, Ovalau, Fiji Sept 29 (Posted from Majuro in May, 2016) Janet Another morning praying for sun. The forecast was gloomy but we thought we'd poke our nose out into the coral channel, then come back if visibility wasn't any good. As soon as we were out of the deep bay where we had spent the night, the gods smiled on us as the sun came out.
This area was a Google satellite chart free zone so back up the mast for David, naked. I got a shot of him up there but that one is for the personal photo album.
*** It was 27 degrees. We'd been at sea all day. Because we had to motor much of it the freezer was charging the whole time and the beer was satisfyingly cold. I poured a glass of it down my throat. I felt it chill my oesophegus all the way down.
We were anchored at Rukuruku, on the north-west side of Ovalau. We'd been aiming for this place ever since we got to Fiji back in May. Our plan was to visit the family I described in our last post.
*** Sept 29 We dinghied in to shore and found the chief's house to do sevusevu, the kava ceremony that visitors do on arrival at a village. Chief Mateo didn't know where our friends Joe and Mere were. We chatted for a while about the rugby, the World Cup still in progress, asked about fresh produce, then left to continue our search.
We walked along the road out of the village trying to remember where Mere's house was.
"Bula, bula," said a man with a sack of kava over his shoulder.
We stopped to get directions. The man was Sammy, and he remembered us from Akula's birthday party three years ago! He told us Joe and Mere had split up, Joe going to Suva, Mere to Levuka, the main town of the island. He gave us Mere's phone number.
Back at the chief's house we got piles of fresh veges, our first since Lautoka. As I was collecting them the chief, Ta, the local headmaster, and two other men whom we'd got to know over the course of the day, had gathered outside to drink kava. Possibly the kava we'd given the chief that morning.
"Come and join us," said Ta.
As always we accepted kava invitation. Aside from relaxing effect of the kava these sessions were good way to find out about the local community and get to know people.
*** Feeling slightly light-headed we motored back out to the boat in the late afternoon sun. I repaired to the galley. Dinner was fresh. Dinner was local. We had mashed breadfruit in coconut cream (grated by David), bele (a bit like spinach) with chili, ginger, garlic, and grated half ripe pawpaw in coconut cream, and tinned fish. Very much an island meal.
*** Excerpt from Janet's journal Sept 30 We are in the Royal Hotel in Levuka, the Capital of Fiji, from the 1890's when the British first colonised the country. Later it was moved to Suva. We are sitting on white cane furniture in a slightly tatty Somerset Maughan style louvered room.
The cool breeze is coming straight off the sea which is crashing on the seawall across the road. This is the life, drinking bottles of cold Fiji Bitter at 2.30 in the afternoon.
Last night we called Mere.
"Is that Mere?" David asked "Yes." "This is David." Silence "We met three years ago on the truck going to Ovalau, you invited us to Akuila's 5th birthday party." Silence, then "Who? What?" "Do you remember David and Janet we came on a yacht with Bruce and Alene and you invited us to..." There was a shriek of surprised delight from Mere's end of the line.
"David, really?" she cried, as it sunk in who we were David too was dancing up and down delighted, ecstatic we had made contact.
He briefly explained that we were in her home village and that we were going to come to Ovalau on the truck the following day. We arranged to meet at the supermarket where she worked.
This morning we piled into a truck in Rukuruku village, which in the next few minutes filled to capacity with people going to town. It had a long wooden seat down each side and the floor was filled with bundles of kava and bags of coconuts. The road was rugged and steep. Each time the truck went up a hill we all slid towards the back, and when we went down the other side we slid forward again. We soon got to know the people either side of us.
The countryside was lush. It made me realise how much the aridness of western Fiji in its drought state had affected me. I could feel the refreshing greenness of the thick vegetation growing densely along the roadside, seep into my blood. As we rounded the island the spray from the ocean crashing on the shore came under the cover of the truck, lightly showering me.
"I'm glad we aren't anchored on this side," I said to David. This side of the island was the main port but fully exposed to the trade winds.
Arriving in Levuka our first stop was to visit the supermarket where Mere was working.
*** David Mere was tickled pink that we should want to see her again, the grin across her petit face never faded. The children too remembered us well, which was a warm surprise. Biatrisi, now a very responsible eleven, reminded us that she had platted Janet's hair back in 2012. Mere took us up to the local primary school to see Akuila. He was more interested in the lunch food his mother brought than us, but he had not forgotten the chocolate cake we had made him.
We are so pleased to have made the effort to come back.
*** Janet I'd brought my laptop along and showed Mere the pictures we'd taken at Akuila's party. We went down the street and printed them out for her. They treasure photographs and usually put their few prints up on the wall of their main room.
We took Mere out for lunch. We have become Facebook friends with Mere and will contact her ahead of when we come back to Fiji next year. (Now planned for 2017) After lunch we climbed 99 ancient steps to Mission Hill then repaired here to slake our thirst.
*** David The last couple of days have been dominated by the news my mother collapsed and was taken to hospital - suspected heart attack. She's 90 and from a long line of nonagenarians. First serious concern for her life. But she rallied. They think it was not a heart attack and that beyond being 90 there's little seriously wrong.
Then we got other sad news. Real life in Kavala (the first island we visited in Fiji, back in June) has penetrated our idyllic existence. Wame, a delightful, handsome village teenager who visited us aboard Navire several times, took his life when a cellphone given by an uncle was held back by his parents. An immense tragedy. I fear for his friends. I'm very curious about how the village has taken this loss and what sense they make of it.
We will set sail again tomorrow for Makogai, just twenty miles to our north-east.
It's really the beginning of our journey out of this hemisphere and the approaching season for hurricanes.