Bula!

Bula! That's the standard hearty Fijian greeting that makes you feel welcome and happy! The literal translation is "life" and is a shortened version meaning "to your good health". "Bula" shows up everywhere - on beer mugs, t-shirts, signs. It has become the country's slogan for tourism and it's such a warm and inviting word, so easy to say and infectious. Every country should have a word like "BULA"!

Vanua Levu Island

Yesterday we toured the island of Vanua Levu with Jimmy, our Fijian guide, and learned much about Fiji and its people.

Vanua Levu is the second largest island in Fiji and has two distinct climates zones divided by an interior mountain range. On the damper southeast side, copra farming (coconuts used for oil) is the main agricultural industry while sugarcane and pine forests grow in abundance on the dryer northwest side. On the north side, miles of narrow railroad tracks criss-cross the countryside for the sole purpose of transporting sugarcane to the large government-owned mill. The island is littered with small Fijian villages and a main market town on each side of the mountain range. Labosa, the northern town, was our main destination for the tour where we meandered through the market while Jimmy identified unfamiliar fruits and vegetables for us. Savusavu is the market town on the southeast side, where we are anchored in its harbor.

Near the towns, you will find many Indo-Fijian people - descendents from indentured laborers recruited in the late 19th century to work the sugar fields. Although the Indo-Fijians and native Fijians have developed a peaceful co-existence on Vanua Levu, their distinct cultures continue to be obvious in dress, language, religion, food and customs. For example, no Fijians work on Sundays but the Indian shops are open. In other parts of Fiji, tensions between the races continue to be a contentious political matter even 125 years later. Having become an independent republic (under the Commonwealth of Nations and the Queen of England) in 1970, government instability has plagued Fiji ever since, with full blown coups as recently as 2006. The balance of power between Indo-Fijians and Fijians is out of whack. Fijians own most of the land while Indo-Fijians dominate commerce. Even though racial tensions here are subdued, we heard prejudice in our guide Jimmy. He warned us that Indian merchants will charge higher prices to tourists, a practice he found dishonest and dispicable. (We experienced this ourselves when Eric bought the same batteries ranging from $2 to $15!) He told us Fijians do not care about money. They strive to earn only what they need and no more. Indians want more and more, a concept Fijians, and much of native South Pacific, do not understand.

Another tour stop was to Naag Mandir, a Hindu temple designed around a serpent-shaped rock that represents the Hindu snake god. This rock reportedly grows, so much that the roof of the temple has had to be raised to accommodate its larger size. Never having seen a Hindu temple before, I was intrigued by its bright colors and amusement-park architecture qualities. At the top of the 108 steps to view manequin representations of importants gods, I expected there to be a water slide. Each step represents a blessing so the steps were built half-size to create more steps and make climbing easier. Two young Indian girls were there pouring milk offerings to the snake god and others had left food. One of Jimmy's sisters converted to Hinduism so he was able to explain some of the rituals. It seems to be an interesting religion.

Our final stop was the Palmlea Lodge built five years ago and run by friendly ex-cruisers, Joe and Julie. Lunch was fabulous and I got an Indian Pumpkin recipe from the Fijian cook. Bear and I swam in the lap pool while Joe told Eric about his Boer goats that he is breeding to increase the meat yield per animal.

We are just beginning to explore Fiji but so far we are loving it!

Tonga recap

As I made my final morning jog through the streets of Neiafu this morning, I reflected on our six weeks in Tonga. We certainly enjoyed our time here - especially our week with good friends from the states, Paula and Tom Millar, and our island adventures with cruiser friends on Totem and IO. However, I leave with a strange feeling of negativity that is difficult to explain and makes me sad.

 

There are two distinct worlds attempting to co-exist in this small country: the native people and the ex-pat community, referred to as palangi (foreigner). The fallout of the collision of these polarized cultures has resulted in an uncomfortable setting. One Tongan woman, Ana, described the relationship between Tongan and palangi, "The palangi....," she scoffed, "they fight among themselves all the time. They always want to take each other to court. Tongans don't do that. We just laugh at them." Although it is not fair to categorize all palangi together, many in Tonga seem to have a superior attitude. They want to live in paradise and make a decent living. So they exploit this beautiful country and its natural resources, including the whales. They charge American prices but pay Tongan wages. Many don't bother to learn the Tongan language. On the morning cruisers net, they inappropriately bicker about petty things. Frankly, my uncomfortable feeling comes from being embarrassed by the fact that I am a palangi myself and somehow associated with "them". I even felt the Tongan people were not as friendly to me because I was one of "them". I wanted to get away from "them"! 

 

Being anchored away from the town (Neiafu) was a completely different feeling. On many islands, we visited villages, attended traditional feasts and went to churches and schools. We went diving, snorkeling and hiking.  The people were welcoming and sincere. In the Hapai group of islands we met palangi who were not saddled with the pettiness of Vavau. It was refreshing and pleasant. I felt disassociated with the full-time palangi of Vavau and that uncomfortable feeling dissipated. When I remember Tonga, these are the feelings and memories I hope will resurface from my time here.

 

Ann - September 14, 2010

SCUBA

Bear logged his tenth dive in Tonga when we went SCUBA diving with friends from Delos and Ghost. An octopus came within two feet of Bear at the end of the dive!

 

Karting around Tonga

For Ann's birthday, we rented go-kart type vehicles and toured the island of Uta Va vau. These karts will go anywhere! We zoomed through villages, carreened around jungle dirt roads and skidded down sandy beaches!

Beer Keg Raft

Our friends on Delos and Ghost stocked up on these awesome Heineken beer kegs in Papeete. Having consumed a couple dozen, it was time to put the empties to good use. A day at the beach resulted in the Beer Keg Raft, test piloted by Bear.

The Millars visit Tonga

Our good friends, Paula and Tom Millar, came to visit during our first week in Tonga. We had a fabulous time exploring caves and the nightlife in Neiafu.

Below, Bear and Ann enter Mariner's Cave.

 

 

Tom got a little fresh with one of the Faka Ladies!

La Paella and the Goat

Last night we joined friends from s/v Delos and Ghost at La Paella, a remote Spanish restaurant on the island of Tapana (anchorage #11). A couple from Spain serve a four course meal featuring their tastey paella creation consisting of flavored rice mixed with various meats: pork, chicken, mussels, shrimp, etc. Halfway through dinner, a full-size she-goat casually sauntered into the restaurant and nuzzled around the patrons. If appropriate attention was not rendered quickly, the nuzzle became a progressively aggressive head-butt to the thigh! Unphased by the goat's appearance, the Spanish couple took the stage and played some Brazilian classics for us. Soon the goat climbed on-stage to join the band and stole the show! We thought it was pretty damn funny!

Ann - September 11, 2010

Sea Cucumbers

Sea cucumbers are one of the grossest looking and feeling things lying on the sandy ocean bottom. They are long and thick, like a cucumber, but they are very squishy to the touch, almost like holding solid Jell-O. Mostly they are black and look like big, unsightly turds lying in the white sand. Bear loves to pick them up as they are harmless. If the animals become too frightened they expel their apparently untastey guts as a defense mechanism. Very gross! Sea cucumbers are cleaning agents to reefs and are important for keeping them healthy. Some places abound with them - so many that it's difficult to walk in shallow waters without stepping on them. There are many types of sea cucumbers, some spiky, some colorful, and some grow very large (like those rice-filled neck heaters). But all in all, they are necessary to the ecosystem but fairly benign and not useful to the locals.

 

China has another take on these creatures. Like pricey caviar requiring an acquired taste, sea cucumbers have become a status symbol and are considered a delicacy in China. The government of Tonga has recently issued harvesting licenses to some Chinese companies. The result has been a depletion of the sea cucumbers in Tongan waters and some Toganese reaping great financial benefits - in the short run. We have heard that each sea cucumber is worth between $30-70 Tongan dollars ($15-35 US). (Rarer species are worth more.) An average Tongan worker makes about $30 USD Tongan per day so the appeal to locals is understandable.

 

Sea cucumber harvesting seems to be a new endeavor so the result on the environment is yet unknown. However, some local pelangi (foreigners) warn this practice could endanger the reefs. And certainly the local economy is being skewed. People the world-over are not immune to ruining their environments in the pursuit of money. When you see it happening in current times, it is difficult to not be, at the least, annoyed, at the most, enraged. In the future, these slimy, unsightly necessary creatures may

Passage to Fiji

18* S   176* 29' W

 

It's early morning of the day after the night before.   Ocean passages seem to stimulate the writing urge.  I'm sure it's more from boredom rather than any great philosophical awakening!

 

We left the Kingdom of Tonga at noon yesterday (Tuesday here, Monday for most of you).   We knew the weekend had come and gone because the internet had a bunch of NFL week 1 scores.  Go Pack Go (Oh come on now Brett, enough is enough already).

 

It always takes a day or two to readjust to life at sea after being in protected anchorages for an extended period.   We had been in Tonga for almost 6 weeks and grown comfortable with a normal daily schedule of doing boat maintenance, Bear's schooling, and afternoon adventures with friends from other boats.    As one starts to prepare for another passage the weather becomes the focal point and we try to wait for a relatively docile forecast.     The sailors want ideal wind strength from the perfect direction with gentle seas.    We "stink boaters" would like conditions similar to an early July morning on Eagle Lake when you can hear a goose fart across the lake.   

 

No matter what you want, ideal passage weather is rare and short lived.   For most of the time since we left Mexico in April we have been in tropical trade wind regions.   This is generally supposed to be 15-20 kt winds from the E or SE accompanied by 4-8' seas.  This is nearly ideal for the sailors and  pretty comfortable for us, when it actually happens.    We left Tonga with a 2-3 days prediction for 'normal' trade winds and looked forward to a good crossing.     Yesterday the conditions were as forecasted and we were able to get comfortable and readjusted with the continuous rolling of the big blue sea.     As the sun went down last night, we experienced a number of rain squalls accompanied by 30-35 kt winds.    Rain squalls and thunderstorms at sea develop in  a number of different ways.   Sometimes they seem to just pop up out of no-where.   Other times you can see them for what seems like hours as they slowly approach, engulf you, and then slowly drift away.    Night storms are a different experience.   On a cloudy night there is little to see outside the boat and we travel in our own little world.    There is a Star Wars feeling with the red glow of all the instruments and navigation equipment and the constant sweep of the radar screen.   We often go days without seeing another boat or even a blip on the radar.   

 

Last night was one of those dark and stormy nights where the radar was lit up like the doppler radar at your local TV station.    On our boat radar, rain shows up as bright yellow or orange depending on intensity.   As squalls develop and approach, the soft gentle red glow of the screen comes alive with bright swaths like paint had been splattered on glass.    It becomes hypnotic watching these bright blobs slowly approaching.     We are sometimes tempted to try to outsmart the squall and change direction to avoid it, but that is futile.       There is no way to know how strong they are or if they are going to change direction, grow bigger, or sometimes just evaporate.   As you stare at the screen it is easy to convince yourself that the storm is stalking you in slow motion, but the weather - like the sea - is impersonal and unaware of our presence or concerns.    When the leading edge arrives with the initial blast of wind and rain our boat seems to suddenly get very small.    There is no such thing as a "big enough" boat on the open ocean.  

 

Approaching squalls with lightning are a different thing and give heightened worries.   A close strike could wipe out the electronics we are so dependent on for navigation and operating the boat.   Even the basic controls are electronically controlled.   An approaching thunder storm gives additional warning besides the bright splash on the radar as we watch the light show in the clouds.    There are a lot of theories about what a small boat should do when lightening is approaching.   Our basic preparation includes turning off redundant navigation equipment, disconnecting backup radios, and shutting down electrical breakers to unnecessary equipment.   None of this would help in a direct hit, but our hope is to minimize damage and have backup systems for basic functions.    We are also equipped with what amounts to a lightening rod that goes from the top of the mast directly down to the sea water.    So far, we have been lucky and have not seriously tested our theories or preparation.   

 

Last night was another night that we got to go through our preparation drill.    Luckily, the light show stayed in the clouds, the wind and rain came and went, and by the time it was over we could sit back and reflect on how beautiful and powerful nature can be.

 

E

Departing Tonga

18* 39'S  174* W

 

It has been a fun 5+ weeks in the Kingdom of Tonga.    It is an interesting mix of remote out islands and expat bars and restaurants.    After our friends on Totem and IO left 2 weeks ago, we hooked up with Victoria, Delos and Ghost.    We got in a lot of snorkeling and 2 scuba dives this past week.   We also visited a number of small villages and left school supplies with the teachers in the villages' one room school.  The kids always get excited to have visitors off the boats and want to practice their English, sing us songs, and demonstrate their traditional dances.

 

Today, we are in the process of checking out of Tonga and heading 400 nm to Fiji.   Forecast is for 18-22k winds and 7-10' seas, all behind us, so it should be an OK passage.    Leaving Tonga arouynd noon should put is Savusavu, Fiji late afternoon in two days.

 

E

 

Haapi

19* 48' S   174* 21' W

 

We left the Vava'u island group in Tonga and headed south 65 miles to the Haapi Group.   We had an easy 1 day cruise with smooth flat seas and lots of whales around us.    The majority of boats bypass Haapi and go straight south to Nukualofa, the capital of Tonga or continue west to Fiji.   They chance to explore very remote islands convinced us to detour here.

 

The Haapi group consists of 62 islands scattered over 4000 sq  miles of ocean.   Only 17 of the islands are inhabited and only 4 of those have any conveniences like electricity, running water, or telephone.    What Haapi lacks in modern living it makes up in natural beauty, coral reefs, history, and friendliness.   

 

We anchored of the main town of Pangai on the island of Lifuka.   This is the same spot where Capt. Cook anchored during his three visits to Haapi in 1773, 1774, and 1777.   It was between here and the next island to our west that Capt. Bligh was given his 'bus transfer' from Fletcher Christian and he began his epic voyage in a small boat due to the mutiny on the Bounty.  

 

We checked in with 'customs' in a classic wood sided tropical building.  On the 8' long counter were three hand written signs indicating where to stand for post office, revenue office, or customs.    The 3 people behind the counter each handled one function. The customs officer asked where we were came from, when we would be leaving, and to have a nice stay.     We later met up with him at the only café in town where he was having a beer after work.    He told us that they typically clear in only 60 boats per year along with some backpackers or divers who fly in on the occasional flight from Vava'u.   

 

Today we will head a few miles south to another island.    More to follow ........

 

E