Sunday 17th September 2017

The wind continues to howl past the boat for the fourth day running and we are beginning to feel a bit tired of it. This morning hoping for a drop in the winds we came up from Blue Lagoon to Buasali Bay and are anchored off Sawa I Lau. It is incredibly beautiful and although the island and the reef are protecting us from the swell, it is still extremely blowy and the fetch rough enough to make dingy rides rather wet, swimming from the boat unpleasant and use of the kayak tricky.

Sawa I Lau is unusual amongst the Yasawa Islands as instead of being composed of volcanic rock it is a slab of limestone that has been thrust upwards by past geological activity. Being limestone it’s cliffs have been eroded to form an encircling notch, reminiscent of the islands in Tonga and the rocks are scarred with caves, cracks and vertical grooves. We took the dingy for a closer look and marvelled at the fascinating shapes created by a millennia of erosion.

Sawa I Lau

Sawa I Lau is where we came a month or so ago to visit the caves, in fact we have been revisiting, with Sasha and Julia, many of the places we have been to before but we are finding plenty of new and interesting things to do. At Manta Bay for instance, we found a different snorkelling spot just off the beach along from the resort and had one of the best snorkels we’ve had all season. Instead of the normal walls of coral, the area was dotted with bommies, these were in turn surrounded by fish. The reef fish were larger than we often see and in the bright afternoon sun and clear waters their colours shone out. We watched a blue spotted ray emerge from its sandy resting place, a giant moray eel slink from one rocky hole to another and a pair of pennant banner fish dance in unison.

Blue spotted Ray

As always the rolly conditions quickly drove us north to Blue Lagoon, but even here and despite the windy conditions we found plenty of new adventures to entertain us. About a mile and a half across the Lagoon from the anchorage is an mangrove, lined inlet. Undeterred by the conditions we dressed suitably for a wet ride and set off to to take a look. At its head there is a small village, a tiny resort nestled amongst the trees and a little way up the valley a fruit and veg farm. The village vegetable boat had topped up our fresh supplies the day before so we didn’t venture inland but we decided we needed sustenance before we faced the wet upwind ride back to Raya, so we headed for the resort. We were welcomed first by a metre long Octopus that was swimming in the shallows where we landed the dingy, it swam straight under the dingy for cover and spread its legs out into the sand in all directions, cartoon like, to stay still in the current that was washing over it, as we drew the dingy away it elongated itself and headed off into deeper waters.

Octopus on the beach at Waitui Basecamp

After wading from the sand bank across a mini Lagoon to the resort, Waitui Basecamp, we were enthusiastically greeted by the young Australian owner. We spent a pleasant couple of hours drinking beer, enjoying the rather different view and eating a slightly dubious baked rice and vegetable lunch.

The next day, accompanied by the crew from Crazy Daisy, we took the path to Lo’s Tea House on the windward side of Nanuya Island. As the track reached the summit the full strength of the easterly wind hit us. At about 25 maybe 30kts it felt quite strong and we all remarked how it was impossible to imagine the 185kt winds that have just hit the Caribbean.

Windward side of Nanuya

After the hot walk, down by the beach the breeze was very welcome, Lo’s donuts were as sugary as always and we enjoyed the cleansing effect of the lemon tea, before settiing off on the return journey. Instead of continuing on the track across the top of the island we turned left and followed an alternative path that dropped down towards a valley. The upper track passes through mainly grasses and areas of sugar cane, the valley path had many more trees, gullies were crossed by makeshift bridges, it had a much more jungly feel. After about half an hour and just as we were beginning to feel like intrepid explorers the illusion was broken as we emerged out from the tress into the tended grassy area of palms and huts at the beach used by the Blue Lagoon cruise ship. A ten minute stroll up the beach led us back to the dingy.

Intrepid explorers

Hoping to sail south tomorrow, fingers crossed for the Mantas and less wind.

Friday 25th August 2017

We have spent a pleasant four days in Musket Cove sat in the resort’s small marina. With three restaurants, a large pool, beaches to explore and a bustling activities centre it feels like being on holiday. Some of the time at least. Unfortunately we have had a lot of cloud, some rain and a cool wind that has, due to the direction we are tied to the pontoon, been screaming into the cockpit, at times, keeping us hiding below. Jumpers have been worn!

Pretty place to tie up to the dock – Musket Cove Marina

The weather started to change last Sunday. After a nice day spent Saturday off Octopus resort, meeting up with our friends from Crazy Daisy, Sunday morning we headed South. There was zero wind, the calm flat sea was dark and oily and with clouds building, the atmosphere was heavy and oppressive. Rick slightly under the weather with a tummy bug, snoozed in the cockpit, everything was so still and the ocean so empty it felt like I was the only living thing around. Then has happens in the tropics, the rain starts and the world comes back life. So it was, a very bedraggled Raya and crew tied up at the dock.

Monday dawned dry but windy. Musket Cove is connected to the mainland by the Malolo Cat, an hour ferry journey across to Denarau Port. While I stayed aboard cleaning and preparing for the arrival of our next guests, Charlie and George, Rick took the ferry across to complete some chores and have a look around the chandlers. With a shuttle from the airport to the ferry it was also an easy way for the boys to reach us the next day.

Moored one boat down from us on the dock were Clare and Darren from Knockando and frequent visitors to Musket, over a drink at the bar they filled us in on all the local information, including the best snorkel spots, a run down on the restaurants and how to buy cheaper beer.

This turned out to be invaluable, Charlie and George arrived exhausted from their exploits in Indonesia and Sydney but still able to sink a can or two of Fiji Gold and keen to get into the water. A mile off the marina is a long sandbar, as the sunshine appeared from the morning cloud, the white sand glowed in a turquoise sea. We took the dingy, sluggish under the load of four people, out through the shallow marina channel, through the anchored cruising yachts and past four or five super yachts. One giant, Dragonfly, is a sleek 240ft long by only 32ft wide motor yacht and Google tells me is the fastest superyacht around and Google should know, it is owned by one of their co-founders.

Charlie and George on the sandbank, Musket Cove

The snorkelling off the bank was murky but the lack of visibility was compensated for by the thousands of fish. Along side the normal array of reef dwellers we spotted a group of 2ft long trumpet fish and numerous trigger fish, including a group of my favourites, Picasso triggers.

Picasso Trigger Fish

We availed ourselves of the resort facilities for another couple of days. The boys went diving, we all enjoyed the self cook BBQ at Pirates bar, we swam in the pool and stocked up on the slightly pricey supplies at the shop. Then having made Raya shipshape yesterday evening, we plan to leave on the high tide at 9am this morning and head for a night at Navandra.

A last thought, I spotted this article on the BBC news website and it made me smile.

The problem of having to ration your energy requirements to make that essential cup of tea was big news in the real world, for us in Raya World, this is an everyday feature, just replace electric car with water maker/water heater/toaster.

Saturday 19th August 2017

We spent another 4 days at anchor in Blue Lagoon doing nothing very much but watching the world go by. Sandwiched between three islands this seems to be one of the few spots in the Yasawas that is free of the effects of ocean swell and so an ideal place to catch up on some sleep, do a few small jobs and relax while a trough passes over the area . Quite a few other boats obviously agreed and the anchorage was relatively full.

As we entered through the reef last week one boat name caught our attention and led to a ‘what a small world’ moment. Onboard, having sailed up from their New Zealand base, was the sister and brother in law of some friends of ours from our old home town of Cranbrook. In fact it turned into a very sociable couple of days with all the crews getting together most evenings at the Yacht Club bar in the small Nanuya resort.

Raya at anchor in the Blue Lagoon

Despite its uncrowded feel it’s a busy area. Surrounding the large lagoon hidden amongst the trees are two or three villages, three or four backpacker and more up market resorts, a glamping site and a beach area used by a small cruise ship that comes in once a week. All the resorts in the Yasawa and Mamanuka islands are fairly small and they blend well into the unspoilt landscape.

In fact the whole economy of the area revolves around the tourist industry, the villages provide the staff, grow a lot of the fresh food and are involved in the transport of goods, locals and tourists between one island and another. There seemed permanently to be one boat or another crossing the lagoon.

The villagers whizz about in their all purpose longboats that convert into everything from the school bus, to a fishing boat, a taxi or goods delivery van.

Fridge delivery

The villages and resorts are kept supplied by landing craft that ply back and forth from the mainland. In such treacherous waters, even with their shallow drafts delivery is dependent on the tide. We watch in admiration at the skill with which these large boats are navigated through the anchorages and complex reef systems.

The larger of the two landing craft keeping the islands supplied with goods.

A few tourists arrive daily on seaplanes that noisily land frighteningly close to the yachts. However most people arrive on the Flyer, a bright yellow catamaran that will be forever synonymous with our trip here, it daily delivers and picks up passengers from almost every resort in the island group. Bringing in its wake not just waves that set us rocking but a fleet of small boats that act as go betweens, transporting goods and guests from the Flyer to the shore.

The Yasawa Flyer

On Wednesday we added another form of floating transport to the Lagoon, setting out on our kayak to feed the fish off the reef half a mile away at the other end of the island. We could see the sky was darkening but the sea was calm and the wind nonexistent, we didn’t think a little rain would harm us. About halfway a sudden deluge began, it brought so much rain we could hardly see even the few metres in front of us. We paddled to shore and hid under a palm tree, five minutes later it stopped and we carried on our way. Then through the trees we saw another band of rain approaching, the wind had began to pick up, the signs weren’t good, so we quickly turned for home. Not being particularly proficient paddlers the trip back was rather, shall we say, challenging, especially as we kept getting fits of the giggles. By the time we reached Raya there were 2ft waves running and it was blowing 25kts, thank goodness we were upwind, I think had we paddled out the other way we might still be out there!

Not the best time to chose to take out the kayak.

STOP PRESS : Wow! Just swam with Manta Rays – pictures and details to follow.

Wednesday 2nd July 2017

The Blue Lagoon has kept us captive for a few more days than expected. The waters have remained calm despite some high winds, the beach is long, with white sand and backed with palms, the snorkelling is great and the resort has a cruiser friendly beach bar, why leave?

To encourage a tentative Gilly to join us, we started with a gentle snorkel off the beach. Our expectations weren't high but the few people already there seemed to be enjoying themselves. What a great surprise, the small reef was teeming with fish and when Matt started feeding them with the bread we had bought we were inundated with Sargent Major's. The next day we stepped up the level and took the dingy out to the large reefs in the channel where we found pretty coral, a huge variety of small fish, Matt even spotted a turtle chomping on the reef.

. Gilly feeding the Sargent Major's

Sunday at lunch in the Boathouse Bar, despite the rain it was still warm and pleasant, we saw the resort ran tours up to some limestone caves. We could have sailed up in Raya but thought it would be nice to let someone else take the strain for the day. What we hadn't counted on was that this meant we would arrive with all the other resort boats. Our hearts sank, the beach was full, luckily nobody on our trip was in a hurry, so we waited in the shade until things cleared. The caves were reached by following a path around the cliffs and then descending down some steep steps. The water that filled the first cave was lit by a large gash in its side letting in daylight, the second cave, reached by diving down through an entrance in the rock, was in complete darkness. Rather eerie until the guide shone his touch upwards and light filled a smaller cavern. Luckily Matt had his dive torch as well to light the many crevices. Fun but not an unmissable experience.

Limestone caves at Saw-I-Lau

Tuesday we felt it was time to stretch our legs, we had been told that the path up and over the island led to, bizarrely, a tea house that sold chocolate donuts. The view from the top of the hills was magnificent, revealing clearly the reefs we had painstakingly navigated around just a few days previously. After a hot but pleasant 40mins we descended into a small village of tidy gardens and colourful dwellings and right on the beach, Lo's Tea House. In true Fijian style most of the items on the menu were unavailable, we settled on lemon tea and, of course, donuts. The tea comprised of three lemon leaves, freshly picked from the tree outside the back door and boiling water, it was surprisingly tasty and very refreshing. In contrast the donuts were probably the most wicked things you could eat, dripping in oil and sugar, they were delicious.

Lo's Tea House

In between all these activities we have finally got out the kayak and actually managed to steer it around the bay. A good couple of days

Thursday 6th July 2017

We have found the best spot to pass the time of day in the marina is sitting at the outer table in the Boatshed Restaurant and Bar. Not only is the view great but there seems to be a permanent cooling breeze even when there isn’t a breath of air onboard Raya. In the evening as the marina is full of cruisers, here to reprovision or get repairs, the atmosphere is very sociable, from 5.30 onwards the Boatshed is again the place to be.

The cruising community in the Pacific is really quite small, so when fifty or so boats are all in one place we can pretty much guarantee there will be boats around that we know. Just in the last week in the marina or nearby we have bumped into friends from Full Circle that had greeted us as we were towed into Opua last October, kindly giving us some food after the New Zealand customs had stripped our larder bare. 

On the oppposite wall to us is Freebird II skippered by the engineer who helped fix our engine and having left Opua, the day before us, shares the experiences of the horrendous trip up to Savusavu. 

Yesterday, Started with a Kiss sailed in, our first contact with them was on the radio when we spotted each other mid passage between Bora Bora and Tonga and have kept in touch ever since. We spent a convivial few hours together in the Boatshed when they lured us into an evening of rather too many Mai Tais and today they have shared their anchoring waypoints for the Yasawa Islands, our next port of call. 

Finally, a few boats around from them is Taistealai who we haven’t seen since they arrived into the berth next to us in St Lucia in the Cartibean, eighteen months ago, having both just finished the Atlantic crossing.

We have also met a whole new group of boats, having been so tightly squeezed together it would be impossible not to make friends. To starboard there is a large yacht that helped guide us in to our tight berth, they have a three year old red head, as I glimpse him running back and forth I keep getting flashes of Matt at his age. On the other side of us is a boat from the World ARC, a rally that circumnavigates the globe in just 16 months. We had a very enjoyable evening with a group of them on Friday, their timetable takes them off to Vanuatu this Saturday, they will be in South Africa by Christmas, it’s exhausting just chatting with them.

Unusually alot of this chat has been about the unfortunate catalogue of medical problems that is besetting the crews at present. One person has been laid low with a horrible viral infection caught from a mosquito bite in Tonga, Dengue Fever. Another has a serious intestinal problem and is having to be flown out to New Zealand and yet another guy is in hospital with a badly broken leg having somehow fallen off the dock walkway into the water. The rustle of papers fills the marina as its occupants are prompted to check out that their medical insurance documents are in order.

Talking of insurance, Vuda is known as a cyclone safe haven. On the protected side of the island and with numerous cyclone pits many people persuade their insurance companies to allow them to keep their boats here during the summer instead of sailing to lower latitudes as we do.  The cyclone pits are long thin 6ft deep trenches cut into the ground, where wedged in with tyres, boats sit hoping for some protection from the violent winds. They have proved effective in the past but I’m not sure we would feel happy enough to leave Raya in one. We have met people who were here during Cyclone Winston, Vuda was not hit badly but nearly twenty yachts dragged on to the reef further east in Savusavu. One captain told us how he motored against 130kt winds and zero visibility for four hours to keep his boat from breaking away from its mooring. 

I think we’ll keep to our plan of spending the summer in Australia.


Thursday 29th June 2017

Getting on and off the boat from our stern-to berth at Vuda Marina is, to say the least, interesting and each yacht is squeezed in literally fender to fender. Our view from the stern is of a boatyard, we are less than a hundred metres from the noisy boat lift and a fuel depot sits just outside the perimeter. However, the place has a friendly, ramshackle feel, there are plenty of trees to cheer things up and the marina staff were welcoming and seem efficient, we rather like it it here.

We arrived in Vuda Marina yesterday after a nice couple of days in Musket Cove. Musket Cove Resort, famous for its annual September regatta and the warm welcome it offers to yachts all year around, is on an island in front of a basin surrounded by reefs. The channel in is narrow and busy with yachts, resort dive boats and ferries, for the first time in Fiji, our charts were a bit off but luckily it was well marked and the day was bright.

We arrived to a calm blue sea, white sand cays and a sprinkling of superyachts, Rick even managed, at the poolside bistro, to find that elusive burger, we decided to stay a day or three. But as is the way with living on a boat, by mid afternoon a breeze had sprung up, the tide had come in and we were bouncing about in a short chop and thoughts of snorkelling, dingy safari’s or finally breaking out the new kayak were put aside. I did try swimming my six laps around the boat but with each breath came a wave and a mouthful of water.

With the forecast set for it to stay on the windy side, after two nights we sailed over to Vuda. As we motored into the circular Marina we were shocked when they directed us to the smallest of spaces, about to protest, we looked around to see every boat squashed in cheek by jowl. Rick did a brilliant job squeezing us in while I repeatedly ran from bow to stern passing lines to the dock boys. Just occasionally it would be good to have some crew!

There is a two metre tide here and the dock is a concrete wall with a short, rickety wooden pier  built out to each berthing spot. Most boats are using the narrow marina planks to disembark, luckily we have our slightly wider passerelle but at very low tide that becomes too steep so we are using the dingy as a stepping stone to a ladder. 

In fact being attached to a fixed dock with the rising and falling of the tide makes everything more complicated. It took a while to work out all the lines but we got there in the end and having rid ourselves of two weeks worth of rubbish and washed down the decks, things began to feel better. Next job is to figure out how to restock our supplies, then we will spend a couple of days getting a few maintanence jobs done.

But for now, it’s time for a cold beer, we are are off to investigate the bar.

Thursday 22st June 2017

Undoubtably one of the loveliest parts of our life is waking continually to a different view. This morning we are anchored off Makogai Island in the middle of the Koro sea to the northeast of the main island of Fiji, Vitu Levu. My view is limited by the low cloud that is bringing us showers, but brightened by the arch of a complete bright rainbow bridging the main island and a small rocky outcrop.

Last weekends view was very different, we sat just east of the Cousteau resort, about 3 miles out of Savusavu. A road lay between the narrow beach and the hills behind. Buses, trucks and taxis ran frequently out to the resort, the newly surfaced road crunching under their tyres. About three times a day we were surprised to see a small tanker that drove slowly past and, with what seemed like the Fijian equivalent to salting, sprayed the new surface with water. Dotted through the hill above the road were upmarket western style villas, with large verandas, cultivated gardens and four wheel drive cars tucked in the garages, above them, was woodland. One patch particularly fascinated us, a group of large trees were swamped with vines, these seem to have completely taken over the crowns and were draped and running off the branches. It made us think of bright greeen, melting ice cream cones

Once we had sat out the high winds, Tuesday we ventured outside Savusavu Bay and sailed the 20nm to Namena island. Namena is a tiny island in the middle of a oblong lagoon edged with reef, it is a marine reserve and one of Fiji’s top diving spots. It was a fast broad reach, in a beam sea and we we’re looking forward to a smoother time once we got inside the pass but we were to be disappointed. The Fijian reefs systems all seem to be a couple of meters lower than the similar structures we encountered in French Polynesia, the consequence of which is that the ocean swell enters much more easily over top.  The lea of the island gave us some protection but with breaking waves, snorkelling and diving on the passes or reef walls was not going to be feasible.

We were relieved when we spotted the one mooring buoy in the bay, anchoring in the windy conditions with choppy waters in a sea bed littered with coral heads was not inviting. Just over a year ago this area of Fiji was right in the eye of Cyclone Winston and Namena Island was hit by winds of up to 145mph. Many trees were lost and still litter the island and the resort that perched on the hill above the beach was completely destroyed. The Island is now derserted, but our friends on Blowin Bubbles who are very keen divers were here a couple of weeks ago, had checked the mooring out, added new floats and given us its coordinates. 

The view from the cockpit was again different, a craggy limestone headland sits at the end of the otherwise palm covered island. There are reportedly 600 breeding red footed boobies nesting on Namena and we had a great time watching all the avian activity. We assumed the main flocks of birds were the boobies although we never spotted their red feet or their characteristic fish catching method of formation diving. In fact they didn’t seem to be feeding at all, all their time was spent with dramatic inflight dancing (flirting?) or protecting their nests from flocks of frigatebirds and a couple of very determined hawks.



In search of calmer waters we sailed on towards Makogai Island, with lessening winds our crossing was slower but very pleasant as we gently pushed further south. Makogai Island was also hit hard by Cyclone Winston and is still trying to recover. For nearly seventy years the island was used as a leper colony and people from all over the Pacific were sent here to be cared for by the nuns and priests that ran the hospital. The ruins of an obviously sophisticated settlement are scattered everywhere across the island, along with, we are told, an extremely poignant grave yard. More recently this bay at Dalice on the western side of the island has been taken over by the Fisheries Dept as a research and conservation centre. A lookout post was positioned on one of the highest hills for counting and cataloguing passing whales and in the bay was a large turtle and giant clam hatchery. Since Clyclone Winston these activities have been reduced to just one family, slowly, trying to restart the program. They kindly showed us the tanks containing hundreds of half inch long baby clams. In about six months time they will be big enough to be transferred to cages and put out into the bay and then eventually transplanted to marine reserves all around Fiji.

Sadly for now the only giant clam we saw was an empty shell, a meter across, sitting on the beach. The four clams that were reportedly on the bommie in the bay have all gone. They are a delicacy in Fiji and a giant clam can be worth thousands of dollars and in the hunger that followed the cyclone anything edible was no doubt fair game. The Goverment is beginning to rebuild the infrastructure at the site, so the tiny clams we saw today should have a more protected future.

We may not of seen clams when we snorkelled in the bay but there was plenty of colourful reef fish including this clutch of anemone fish. 

Friday 16th June 2017

There was a particular moment last week that made us smile, a classic cruising moment. All around us was wonderful blue sea, palm trees, coral reefs and sunshine, however we were below. Having not been anywhere near a shop for over a week I was kneading dough to make some bread. I am doing this while straddling Rick who is prone on the kitchen floor, head deep inside the engine room. He is trying to fix a recalcitrant high pressure pump so we can make some water. There is a rich odour wafting from a large bowl of rotting food waste waiting to be donated to the local pig, a long list of waypoints for our next reef strewn trip sit waiting to be plotted onto a chart and on deck is a mountain of towels and swimwear refusing to dry in the 85% humidity. It may seem like we spend our time in the islands drifting from one idyllic spot to another but this life is often quite challenging.

Sunday having spent the night anchored in Buca Bay, we took Penny and Stephen ashore to meet their taxi, luckily we had gone in plenty of time – no taxi had been ordered. Frantic discussions ensued as another car was cajoled into the four hour return trip to Labassa. As we waited anxiously the quiet dock began to fill up, car loads of people also with suitcases joined us, then two jam packed busses arrived, the chaotic scene added to the tension. Then a large boat appeared in the distance, suddenly the reason for all this activity became clear, it was the scheduled ferry to Taveuni. Finally a car, of slightly dubious road worthiness, but willing to do the trip to the airport, made its way through the crowds. We waved a fond fairwell, slightly worried that the car wouldn’t make it up the first hill, little alone all the way to Lambassa. Happily our concerns were unfounded, they made their flight in one piece and with time to spare.

Back on Raya we still had a couple of problems to sort out, the most serious of these was the problem with the high pressure pump for the water maker, which was refusing to start. Having no water maker serverly curtails our indepence from marinas and the small towns around the coast, we made the decision to return to Savusavu. We followed our track back through the reefs and into Viani Bay for the night, once anchored Rick took one more look at the pump and there it was, a broken wire on the starter capacitor, easy to fix, we were back in business.

However, a return to Savuavu had a few other atractions. Not least the ability to rid ourselves of nearly two weeks worth of rubbish. Rubbish continues to be a big issue onboard, even with the care we take to unpackage everything, it still builds up depressingly quickly. The only answer is to store it until we reach a large enough town that we feel will dispose of it responsibly. On top of that we were also low on fresh provisions and the calm of the harbour would be an easier place for Rick to work on the boat. So the next morning we headed west and with SE winds were rewarded with a great sail back to Passage Point and Savusavu.

As we left a chilly New Zealand our water temperature read out suddenly informed us that the sea was a balmy 30C, we had bigger things on our mind at the time and forgot about it. Then a couple of weeks ago the log packed up. The log is on the same transducer as the water temperature and is basically a small paddle wheel that sticks out through the hull. The rate at which it spins gives us our speed through the water, clocks up the miles we have done and is the core information that the instruments use to calculate true wind speed and direction. None of this is vital, it is good practice to sail with just apparent wind readouts from the wind vane and the GPS gives us speed over the ground but still it would be good to get it fixed. After much analysis by Rick and a conversation with Andy from Green and Regis, our instrument people in Southampton, Rick has rigged an ingenious fix. This involves using a LED bulb as a makeshift resistor that fools the unit into thinking the water thermometer is working and switches back on the readings from the log. A good example of making use of the finite things we have onboard.

As we approached Savusavu we could see crowds of masts, it is now well into the Fiji cruising season and the area is very full. We opted to anchor just outside the entrance to Nakama Creek, still within easy dingy distance of town but with the added bonus of catching more of the cooling breeze. On Thursday afternoon we watched as another 56 sailed in, unfortunatley the normal Oyster welcome was rather subdued, onboard they had a devastated couple they had rescued from their sinking boat. The yacht had hit a reef the day before and despite being successfully refloated by nearby cruisers and a dive boat, that night they began taking on water that they couldn’t control and they had to watch as their home and all their belongings slowly sank beneath the waves. A sobering reminder to the rest of us of how careful we have to be.




Wednesday 7th June 2017
Sometimes you come across a sight in life that’s totally unexpected and unique. Although the name should have prepared us, the reef called the cabbage patch is astonishing, the coral here really does grow in formations that look like giant cabbages, none of us had ever seen anything like it. With no camera to take diving deeper than 15m we took no photos, but this was a sight that needs to be seen to be believed, the picture below comes cutesy of the http://www.diveacademyfiji.com

With what appears to be a sparsely inhabited shore, Viani Bay surprisingly, is home to over 150 people. Fifty of these are children so the bay has its very own school. Each morning a couple of the narrow longboats they use here for everything from ferries to fishing, turn into the school bus and go around picking the youngsters up and dropping them on the beach in front of the school ready for assembly, the sound of fifty young voices joined in song drift across to the bay.

Next to the school, hidden between the trees, is the Dive Academy of Fiji, run by the very friendly and experienced couple Marina and Jonnie. They invited us in for tea and biscuits as we discussed the options for diving the world famous Rainbow Reef. Having been sorely tempted to join the morning Manta Ray dive, we instead opted for two coral and reef fish dives in the afternoon.  The coral here although bashed by Cyclone Winston just over a year ago is recovering well. Marina came out to Raya to pick us up and our first dive, at Nuku reef, was on a gentle drop off. With a perfusion of varied hard and soft corals it was surrounded by countless reef fish. Shoals of small blue damsel fish, colourful inch wide angel fish and myriad other tiny species crowd the coral heads. Parrot fish, squirrel fish and picture perfect butterfly fish dart in and out of the crevices, a metre long trumpet fish hangs vertically above us, a grumpy titan trigger fish guards his patch and a couple of sharks linger lazily in the blue.

After an hour of surface time, spent again drinking tea in the dive shack, we went for our dive on the cabbage patch. We descended on to a similar scene to our first dive, highlighted by the appearance of a turtle, then Marina led us around a bend to the amazing sight of the cabbage patch itself. Each coral head is about a metre wide and the patch stretched out of sight in each direction. Again smothered in fish, larger species patrolled the top while the smaller ones live within the folds of the cabbages. Despite the lack of light from a dismal cloudy sky and the pressures on our aging ears, it had been a great afternoon.

The next morning we upped anchor and wound our way inside the reef system to Buca Bay. Described in the cruising guides as having two wharfs and a road, we are informed it makes a perfect place to pick up or put down crew. It also added that there was little or no chance for reprovisioning but oddly there was an opportunity to buy an ice cream. Sailing back to Savusavu would waste a precious day of Penny and Stephens time, so we sailed into the bay to investigate. With little signs of life, a small group of houses stood at the head of the bay and a few bigger buildings sat on the southern edge of the deep inlet, the expected wharfs from the boat appeared to have crumbled to piles of sticks and rubble. The water was a dark green and full of flotsam, we slowly entered the bay dodging large branches and coconuts, are hopes weren’t high. 

We dropped the anchor and Rick and Stephen took the dingy to investigate further, as is often the case, hidden behind the trees was a whole community. Besides the road connections to the rest of the island, there was an Adventist school, a small hospital and a tiny shop. There was one serviceable dock and an easy beach landing, the shopkeeper could organise taxis to the airport and although the shop had no fresh food it did sell delicious ice creams.

Happy we could drop our guests here for their departure on Sunday we motored across to the northern coast of Kioa Island. A beautiful deserted spot and with the sun finally out, the beaches shone, the trees were a brilliant green and the sea was a vivid royal blue. We put on our snorkelling gear and went off to explore the encircling reef. Again the coral was healthy and the fish plentiful and diverse, unfortunately we also spotted half a dozen Crown of Thornes a distructive and invasive species of star fish. With no real means of removing them to be destroyed on land we sadly had to leave them where they were. 

It was a fine evening, we drank a gin and tonic and watched the sun dip below the hills of the mainland, a few minutes later the sky was washed in the palest pink, a soft breeze brushed the decks. Life felt good.

Wednesday 31st May 2017

It may seem churlish to complain but ITS TOO HOT! After seven months out of the tropics it is taking us a few days to acclimatise. With high humidity and temperatures around 30 C every small amount of effort brings us out into a sweat and sleeping is difficult. The Copra Shed Marina is half a mile up Namaka Creek and right in the middle of Savusavu town, so its not the best place to swim, emergency cooling down is achieved by driving the dingy ten minutes out into the bay and jumping into the water.

Our first job, once the customs formalities were completed, was to clean up the boat. The decks and fittings have been liberally hosed down, four bags of washing have been processed for me at the marina laundry and the new washing machine onboard has done a good job with all our jumpers and winter clothes, that are now, along with the heavy weight quilts, packed away in deep storage. And the cabins and salon are almost neat and tidy, ready for Penny and Stephen who arrive today. In between times we have been enjoying the company of John and Deb from Moonshadow, who are tied up next to us, with the odd drink, excursions to the excellent local chinese restaurant and swims in the bay.

Savusavu is quite a large town by Pacific Island standards and besides the Chinese there are another half dozen restaurants and plenty of shops. The town lies almost exclusively on one street that runs parallel to the creek, a line of colourful but ramshackle buildings. 

There are few purpose built structures, everything from the customs office to the bus station to tiny, scruffy electrical stores are elbowed into whatever space is available. There is a large fruit and veg market that looks pretty good, there are a couple of supermarkets that aren’t badly stocked and we have found the ‘it’s better on the inside’ meat store that friends on Kinabalu told us about in Opua.  It has taken us a day or two to get out of the everything always available mindset that we had in New Zealand and back to the buying what you can when you see it statergy, that works best here. With a bit of flexibility provisioning for four people for two weeks shouldn’t be too much of a challenge.

We should get our cruising permit signed and sealed this morning, so once Penny and Stephen arrive we shall head out. First stop just a few miles down the coast but with clean water and a snorkelling reef I’m sure that the heat will be more easily endured.

Friday 26th May 2017

Thursday as we neared Fiji, the stormy weather of the past five days had gradually disappeared and was thankfully replaced by rapidly calming seas and light breezes. As we finally relaxed the evidence of what we had been through lay all around us. Every inch above deck was encrusted with salt, damp wet weather gear hung from hooks and door knobs in both heads, one shower contained a pile of soggy clothes, the seats in the salon were a makeshift bed, general untidyness filled every corner. I had the odd bruise and bizarre muscle strains under my armpits where I had been hauling myself up and around with the handrails, Rick battled with a ‘too much stugeron’ headache.

In less than a day we had gone from putting our heads above the sprayhood to be blasted by spray filled cold air and risking a wave straight in our faces, to the delightful feeling of soft warm tropical air, from wearing two or three layers of clothing under our wet weather gear, to wearing shorts and applying sun cream and from having trouble getting any food down at all to enjoying a delicious lamb curry. Having spent most of the passage with extremely reefed sails, for over a day we had sailed with less than half a main and part of the staysail, now with every scrap of canvas out, we struggled to reach 5 kts and the engine had to come on. With delight we spotted our first sight of land the most southerly island in Fiji, Matuku, all was well.

As dawn approached on Friday we were just 20nm from Savusavu, during the night we had seen our first boats in six days, a couple of fishing vessels passed us by, one a little too close, coming straight for us, at about 100m Rick spotted the whole crew waving hello from the deck. Then two more AIS targets appeared on the chartplotter, they were two boats we knew well. After sailing over 1150nm and leaving Opua 48hrs apart from each other we were converging on Point Passage, the pass through the reef into Savusavu Bay, within the same half hour.

By 9.30 we were all tied up to the dock in the Copra Shed Marina and after the initial euphoria of arriving, swapping tales of 60kt gusts, gigantic waves and how fast you can go with just a handkerchief aloft, and of course, drinking a very well deserved got here beer, we were ready to drop into our wonderfully still beds. 

Alas, formalities still had to be completed. Officials from four departments, Customs, Immigration, Biosecurity and Health took it in turns to file onboard to fill a myriad of forms and inspect the boat. If that wasn’t enough we then had to traipse around town to three different offices, paying fees and collecting our passports. In our tired state and swaying from land sickness, in temperatures of over 30 C, we hardly noticed the town around us but it definitly feels friendly and welcoming, plenty of time to explore, when we’re rested.