[p]beale12.4
[s]
pos: 18 24.297s 178 06.160e
Date: 21/07/2017 15:00 gmt+12:00
Quite a week we've had. A while since my last update, and we have had adventures and achievements and marine marvels and huge frights and Kodachrome sunsets and gloriously cheeky Fijian kids and the warm sun baking our back as we are caressed by the breeze. We have anchored disastrously, escaped and run away. We have anchored perfectly and awoken to being exactly in the right place, encircled by reefs in the safe haven at Vaga bay. Along the way we have sailed superbly across the pacific deeps and then, breathing deeply and counting our blessings that the anchoring disaster did not turn into catastrophe, puttered across the lagoon here at Beqa Island.
Eventful, character building, shaping splendid tales to tell the grandchildren. Speaking of which, the biggest event on our horizon is no longer the daily forecast. The return to NZ to greet Sarah and Nick's baby is getting nearer very rapidly now.
It's hard to know whether to expand in this brief note on the amazing day we had swimming with the manta rays at Vurolevu island, or to dwell on the anchoring crisis. Maybe a little of each. Snorkelling with the Rays was like a trip to another world. They cruise through past a rocky reef on the corner of Vurolevu island most days shortly after high tide. It seems to be a cleaning station for them. They curl their wings, idly twist a wingtip and simply own the space, in their own way, at their own speed. Quite different to the darting fish, themselves quite beautiful, but familiar in an aquarium and finding Nemo kind of way. The Rays are otherworldly, graceful, timeless, alien. They know we are there and don't mind, until Doug (the Ray Whisperer), dives down to gently stroke the end of the tail on one Ray. The first time, and even the second, the Ray seems not to mind. The third, like a slightly haughty cat, the Ray gives an irritated flick of the tail that says, quite clearl
y, back off.
So we do.
But not too far. As the Rays float over a shallow reef, they are less than a metre below us, with the cleaning fish all clearly visible despite the slightly ruffled water. One Ray circles a favourite coral bommie a dozen times or more as I float above and dive In front of and behind her. I am guessing her, but is seems right.
She stares at me and floats on her way, unperturbed. I swim under and around and lose track of time in this quite extraordinary experience. At this stage it looks like a visiting male (larger, long white tale), is making a move on her, but maybe this is just anthropomorphisation on my part. Apparently the somersaults we saw a few days ago are part of the courtship and mating process, so maybe. Anyway, he drifts away into the turquoise gloom of 10m deep water and me and my Ray carry on our swim together for what seems at least half an hour.
After she leaves, with a flick of the wing and an insouciant shrug, I am left deeply happy and drift happily back to the beach to share stories with the other snorkellers.
Having experienced that, it was time to move, so Thursday morning early we set off for a day sail from Ono island in the Astrolabe reef, to Beqa island, just south of Viti Levu, the largest island in Fiji. About 40 miles. A lovely 18knot breeze just forward of the beam, and a great reach, powered up across the waters at nearly 8.5 knot average all the way. What splendid sailing. Through the sulphur pass, into the reef, all good.
Motored on down to our chosen anchorage.
Very poorly chosen as it happened.
The wind had veered NE. The bay's head faced and funnelled the wind, and it was very unpleasant in there. After fussing for ages, we finally dropped a pick. Sadly, in a crap place. We picked it up again, but the winch was making ominous noises. And sure enough, our mighty anchor winch dragged up a huge lump of coral, at least 2m by 2m, with the Rocna anchor tip very firmly wedged into the orange heart.
Bugger!!!
Murphy arrived then, and the wind gusts grew from 20 knots to 30.
Oh, and did I mention that this was the first time we were completely separate from the rest of the ICA fleet. Just Manutaki, with Jo and John to make decisions and solve problems.
Well, here was a fairly decent problem for the solving. Drifting in wind gusts towards a lee shore, anchored wedged in and carrying around half a ton of coral, spare anchor in a locker, no idea at all what to do.
Hmmmmmm.
Character forming, as they say.
I changed into the brown trousers.
As I said earlier, I won't dwell on this, but suffice to say it was a VERY long next 20 minutes until we escaped, and motored out of that cursed bay to seek a place to hide.
Fortunately, that search was successful, and we are anchored in lovely Vaga bay, nestled into a beautiful safe sandy anchorage surrounded by reefs at a comfortable distance.
Two of the local kids have already paddled out to introduce themselves and to have a look around Manutaki. They are splendidly forward, open and inquisitive in a way I think we breed out of us Palagi.
We are just about to go ashore to do sevusevu with the local village.
And on goes the adventure.

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