[p]beale12.4
[s]
pos: 19 09.210s 178 32.562w
Date: 05/07/2017 15:00 gmt+12:00
Well, we now have another passage under our belt. We have sailed 120 miles south to a very remote island called Fulaga, which is absolutely astonishing.
The passage started out as a beautiful beam reach, 18 knots of breeze from the east, and Manutaki was revelling in it. The first few hours passed by extremely well and extremely quickly, with lots of exclamations of delight on our boat and others.
We actually got cellphone reception and internet for the first time in weeks. Enough to deal with a few important jobs - like booking our Marina in Denerau so we can fly home to meet baby V in August. And to find out the All Blacks had lost to the British Lions. Then as Vanua Balavu faded into the distance behind us, we lost touch with the modern world again and went back to the basics of wind and water and trimming the sails.
Sadly, as the afternoon waned the rain clouds came across and the wind turned south-east, nearly on the nose. It became a very tight reach as we worked our way in a fleet of 18 boats down to Fulaga.
We sailed with 14 boats in AIS range - 8 miles or so typically - all through the night. Which is actually a bit cluttered and makes for nervous watches without a lot of searoom. All part of the pros and cons of a fleet voyage like this.
We arrived on schedule soon after first light, and waited just a little for low tide to make the entry to the lagoon easier.
Fulaga has a VERY narrow entrance through the enclosing reef. 50m wide, with vicious boat-eating coral and rocks both sides. When the tidal flow is at its maximum, there can be 3 feet high standing waves and a 5 knot current outgoing. Way too scary!!
Our entry was much more straightforward and only a little bit sphincter-clenching. Then when through, pretty much everybody had a simultaneous "WOW" moment when we came in through the passage and mooched across the lagoon to a breathtaking, unforgettable, almost unbelievable scene of picture postcard beauty.
A huge inner lagoon a few m deep, with a sandy bottom, perfect for anchoring. A fringing island high enough to break the wind so the waters are flat, punctuated with undercut holes through and zen glimpses of the white break on the outer reef beyond. Coral bommies and undercut mushroom Islands with mini coconut palms dotted everywhere. Imagine the bay of Islands in Vanua Balavu, multiplied by hundreds and stretched out across a vast lagoon, with good anchorages hiding behind every little archipelago of limestone outcrop. Then paint it with the glowing turquoise colour of the sun shining through the water onto a shallow sandy bottom. It's a bit like that but the words are, of course, inadequate.
No resorts, no buildings, no cellphone or internet, nothing of anything much except 3 or 4 villages that are very traditional, and cannot be seen from the lagoon.
We did our sevusevu yesterday as a group. It took most of the day. 18 boats, 50 or 60 ICA folk in the meeting house with the local chief (92 years old) and the elders. Speeches of introduction and welcome. Each boat has been adopted by a local village family and we went back to their houses in the village to get to know them.
It does seem a touch surreal being somewhere so remote and having so many boats here. When we arrived there was one boat already here enjoying the solitude. Imagine their feelings as more and more and more boats came in through the passage. They were initially cursing us, but we met them at the 4th of July barbecue last night, and I think all is forgiven.
The local village here was delighted to welcome us, and the 50 or so kids in the local school were absolutely thrilled. Laughter and hooting, huge Fijian grins and lots of Bula through the school windows as we all toured the place.
We will probably stay here a couple of weeks. There is a lot to explore, and a lot of space, so we may also try to find a little separation from the main group at some stage, just to savour a little of the very real remoteness of this amazing place.
We have about 4 weeks to get to Denerau, and Nadi, and the fast way home for a flying visit. That may seem strange after a couple of months feeling like 10 miles per hour is crazy fast. Lots of exploring to do before then, though.
The story continues...

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