Hiking and Snorkeling at Viani Bay

Well we had a break from all our fun yesterday with a heck of a thunder and rain storm. Collected 80 liters of water from the scuppers and had one lightening strike in the bay a few hundred meters away - Yikes!

The day before we had a strenuous but rewarding hike through very tall (2 meter high) grasses along a ridge above the bay and back down through a forest and taro plantations to the shore. Today we snorkeled again at the Cabbage Patch and also at a deeper spot called the Fish Factory. The latter had a current running at 1-2 knots, but gave us some good sightings of sharks and even a turtle. Pictures follow.

Rani and Pat from 'The Rose' in the grasses at the top of the hill above the anchorage.

Pat from 'The Rose' had been up the hill once before and was our leader on this hike.

The grass was very tall and in places we followed what we think are wild pig trails.

Come out with your hands up.

View from the grassy ridge looking out to Taveuni Island - taken with our new Olympus camera's panorama mode 

View from the forest edge on our way down

The path to the first look-off is in the center. We landed our dinghy near the white house to the left.

This island is leased by the families that live there from the government. It has been occupied by the same Fijians for 80 years and we met four generations who lived there.

View from our anchorage - the island above is to the left.

Rani and Jona. Jona is a civil engineering student in Suva. He was visiting Jack, our guide for the snorkeling trips. 

Outrigger dugout canoe.

More lovely corals - the red ones are soft.

Parrot fish.

Lovely shell

Long-nosed butterfly fish

Jack called these ''bait fish". They are used by fisherman to catch bigger fish and are themselves about 25 cms long.

Bait fish feeding/

Somewhat grainy shot of a white tipped shark - about 1.75 meters long.

Peek-a-boo. I think this is a type of damsel fish?

Rich from "Legacy"uses his 'James Bond"style  hand-held sled. This uses an electric motor and propeller to pull you along , permitting deeper and longer sessions under water.

Rani goes for a shallow dive with  Kari from "Merilelu"

Butterfly fish.

Snorkeling on the Cabbage Patch at the Rainbow Reef

Following are some pictures taken on our first snorkel on the Rainbow Reef off Viani Bay (Vanua Levu, Fiji). This was also the first time we took our new Olympus Tough TG-820 camera under the water. It is not easy to capture fish pictures, but the camera worked like a top and the colours it reproduced are quite true to what we saw.

We motored out to the reef on 'The Rose'with Jack, a local guide, steering. Seven of the passengers dived and the rest of us snorkeled.

Lovely corals right beside the sand shelf where we anchored the boat

Giant clam - about a foot across

More lovely corals

Rani swims down over the cabbages for which the patch is named. These are huge hard corals many feet across.

Christmas tree worms filter their food from the water at the face of a coral

This shows how close to the surface much of the reef is. There was quite a surge at times over the reef.

These blue fish use the pronged coral as a hideout when danger approaches.

Anemonefish in its anemone home.

Anemonefish warning me off. Note a glimpse of its baby below.

I love the textures of these corals.

Fiji has many soft corals - these are quite small but colorful.

Hard coral with stunning pattern.

Parrot fish - this one is about 10 inches long, but we have seen them over two feet.

Batting 1000

We left Bakabaka Inlet with no navigational excitement around 9:30 am, setting full sail and beating 20 miles to Fawn Harbour. The seas were down and the sailing very pleasant in 6-10 knots of light northeasterly breeze. We closed the coral reef close by the pass into Fawn Harbour on our fourth tack. As we did so, we passed just behind a small flotilla of motoring sailboats that were taking advantage of the light winds and flat seas to make the passage directly from Savusavu. The entry to Fawn Harbour dog-legs between reefs, but the channel is wide, the turns marked by posts, and visibility good. In addition we had accurate way-points from a previous visitor (S/V Billabong). Our hearts remained in our chests.

Our friends Rich and Cindy on Legacy were among the motoring flotilla and had caught a huge dorado on their passage . Other friends, Craig and Bruce on 'Gato Go' invited all the boats in the Fawn Harbour anchorage to a potluck on their roomy catamaran. The dorado was delicious, barbecued and soaked in a Thai curry sauce concocted by Craig. We contributed a potato squash curry, while other cruisers brought marinated eggplant/garlic appetizers, brussel sprouts, and a superb chocolate cake. A very pleasant evening, catching up with old friends.

Today was eco-adventure day - an unexpected bonus, for we had planned this as a work day, continuing to paint Ladybug's sheer stripe. We awoke to a perfectly still anchorage - no wind and clear skies. We both agreed that this would be a painting day, but wanted to move over to nearby Dakuniba Bay. So we raised the hook shortly after breakfast and motored out the pass and eastward along the fringing reef.

About 15 minutes out we came up to a pod of what we believe were false killer whales, some of which swam alongside for a few minutes. The small whales were leaping clear of the water at times - spy hopping - and we watched them until they swam away, closer to the reef where the fishing must have been better. A few minutes later I called Rani up on deck again when I saw a much larger spout than that of the false killers. We turned Ladybug in towards the reef and as we approached it became clear that there were two much larger whales, surrounded by the pod of smaller ones. The big whales turned out to be humpbacks - a mother and calf we think - and they put on a great show, rolling around together, sometimes with their barnacled fins in the air and sometimes sounding shallowly. We followed them for 20 minutes, idling along at 1 or 2 knots, Rani shooting a video, while I kept Ladybug at a respectful distance.

The pass into Dakuniba Bay was straightforward, but we had some problems identifying the anchorage mentioned in one of our guides, because I had not thought to note its way-point. We spent a half hour poking around a reef-strewn palm fringed bay before correctly identifying another much more enclosed bay a little to the north. This bay is ringed by mangroves and has a nice mud bottom. A few houses lie to the south side and a mangrove-lined river channel runs into its east side. There is a pervasive musky, skunky smell through the bay and around dusk we learned its source and the source of the high pitched chattering we had heard through the afternoon. When we rowed over to the river mouth, we came upon tree after tree filled with fruit bats, squeaking and squawking to each other. When they saw us, they rose into the air in great wheeling masses, showering us with what we at first thought was bat piss, but later realized was just the recent rain shaken off their wings.

These bats are large and look just like crows from the distance. If you did not know they were bats you would swear they were birds. However, up close, you can see their cinnamon coloured bodies and little squirrel-like heads. They point their feet back as they fly and with their broad fabric-like wings, look for all the world like hang-gliding tailless squirrels.

We rowed up the small river channel, listening to the bat chatter and the calls of birds that we could not see, off deep into the mangrove swamp. Schools of tiny fish leapt clear of the water at our approach and crabs scuttled over the mangrove roots. Spider webs hung from the boughs of larger trees and in places the vegetation closed in and I had to draw in the oars and row with them crossed. The channel ended in a swampy clearing where two open sided shelters had been built, perhaps as part of a copra plantation.

We never did get any painting done. Ominous black clouds crowded over the eastern hills shortly after we arrived and the afternoon was an alternation of showers and sunshine. It was muggy and hot in the boat when we were forced to close the hatches - around 90 degrees F and as much as 83 percent humidity.

We plan to be here for a couple of days and then move around the corner to Viani bay where Rani hopes to do some diving on the world-class 35 km long Rainbow Reef.

Sailing 40 miles to make good 7

We set off today under sail at dawn - 6:20 am - from the anchorage off the Jean Michel Cousteau resort, sailing quietly out of the anchorage so as not to disturb our slumbering neighbors. The wind was from the east, dead in our face, so we set full sail and sheeted everything in for a run to the SE. The sea were still sloppy from the higher trade winds of the past week and when the wind died out for a few minutes, the motion was so awful that Rani was sick. She lay down for an hour and was back to at least functional form after that.

Around 11 am we tacked, only 10 miles north of Koro island, with more than 26 miles still remaining to our intended destination of Fawn Harbour. The wind was now up to 15 knots, gusting 20 and we bowled along for a few hours at 20 degrees of heel before I pulled down a second reef. Ladybug, who had been so clean when she left in the morning was now coated in salt spray right up to and over the dodger.

Then as so often happens, the wind came around dead in our face. The day was waning and it is dangerous to enter through passes in the coral reefs late in the day, for the sun shines at too low an angle to show up any dangers. Having 12 miles left to go to Fawn Harbour (requiring maybe 18 miles of tacking to make good) we made the decision to bear off for Bakabaka, where we had a sketch map and entrance way point from our 1993 Calder cruising guide.

The pass into Bakabaka lies between between two islands and is quite narrow. We motored in with Rani at the helm while I climbed the ratlines to the spreaders. Even from this height I could not see far in advance because the sun was low and in my eyes. The surf pounded reefs on either side were obvious, but we were on top of a large coral head, no more than 5 feet below our keel, before I could see it. I hollered for Rani to turn and run back at this point, but she judged the pass too narrow for this manoeuver and carried on into safety in deeper water just beyond the isolated coral. If you try this pass yourself, keep to the starboard side at the entrance to avoid a large detached coral head. Better still - come in the late morning with the sun behind you!

After we pushed our hearts back into our chests we continued a little way toward the river, dropping the hook in between the two islands. There are plantations on the mainland and a few homes on the larger island. The highway runs nearby, crossing the river below a large salt 'lake'. At dusk we saw some fishermen wading waist deep in the water, but there is no village here and no obvious public landing.

As the fruit bat flies (and there were hundreds of these huge bats overhead near sunset) it is only 7 miles from the anchorage off the Jean Michel Cousteau resort to Bakabaka Inlet. Rani pointed out that we could have taken the bus from Savusavu in an hour - a journey that took us more than 9 hours of tiring sailing.

We will likely carry on to the east tomorrow, to Dakuniba or Fawn harbour, using the predicted light NE to N winds.

First photos from Fiji

Rani exercises during the NZ to Fiji crossing

Chris playing uke on a quieter day during the crossing. Bracing  legs was necessary just to stay on the settee.

Arrival at Savusavu

Yay - Land!

Copra shed marina at Savusavu

Waitui marina - these were the folks we took a mooring from - $10 Fijian per day (about $6 Canadian)

Local boys use a bamboo marina to cross to the island

Charisma arrived a week before us after a very rough passage.

Sunset over Vanua Levu from our cockpit

Saturday at the market in Savusavu - very busy!

We bought one of the melons here - 1 Fiji dollar - 60 Canadian cents for a small one.

We also bought a large pineapple and 6 bundles of Kava roots which we will use when going to smaller villages to do sevu sevu (an introductory gift/ceremony).

Andre's Symbiosis anchored just behind us in the harbour at Savusavu

Last Photos From New Zealand

Following are a few photos from our last weeks in New Zealand.

Possum visits Ladybug in Docklands 5 work yard

I shooed it away, but it came back to see what the fuss was about. Photo taken inside our cabin looking out with possum looking in.

We enjoyed a last weekend with Holger and Roz at their lovely farm.

Fresh veggies - some from the HomePort gardens

Rani picks hot peppers with Roz.

Rat Bag frees herself from the navigation buoy she dragged onto one windy night in the river near Whangarei. 

Annie Hill visited us and I asked her to sign my much-read copy of her fantastic book - "Voyaging on a  Small Income"- our cruising bible.

Annie Hill's 26 foot junk-rigged boat - ''Fantail'' was anchored just upstream from us.

André Schwartz - Singlehander

I thought I would post another note on single-handers, since our neighbour here in Fiji is an interesting chap. This post is dedicated to two of our favorite single-handers - John Spicher and Randall Reeves

André is from Hungary but claims Canada as his base, most recently in and about Vancouver and Vancouver Island. Since 2000, he has been on an extended voyage, sailing his Benetau Oceanis 390 (39 foot) boat from Vancouver to Alaska and then down the coast of the Americas all the way to Cape Horn. From there he sailed across the Pacific to the Galapagos islands and then on via French Polynesia to Fiji.

André arrived here in January, completely blind in one eye and with only 20/100 vision in the second, due to cataracts. It is amazing that he managed to work his way through Fiji's reefs in this state, as by his own account he could not even make out the somewhat substantial tower that marks the reef off our bay. American doctors brought in by local missionaries operated on his eyes earlier this year and his vision is now good. However, his propeller fell off during the passage and he has been working on replacing this and on re-aligning his engine before he moves on from here.

André was not shy about telling us his story and clearly enjoyed having an attentive audience (at least in me - Rani nodded off after an hour or two). A man wearing many hats, he is certified in 14 trades including (ironically) optician, as well as Zen master, martial arts instructor, and counsellor. He is proud to be an iconoclast and clearly sees himself as different from the crowd. He told us that most people are sheep ambling blindly and comfortably towards death. André realized he was different from an early age, recalling an argument with a friend when he was 11. It was raining and he told his friend that it was not raining in the spaces in between the drops. His friend insisted that it was raining and was very upset by the idea that it could be both raining and not raining. I was tempted to suggest that looking at things using probabilities might also be useful, but did not want to get into an impossible to conclude debate.

He is also an authour with one book out and another in the works. His tomes are philosophical and address human and societal failings. The second book has "lots of sex because that is what sells". André seems to be a libertarian, regarding society as something to be used only as necessary - not something to be a part of, and he told us he could survive just fine on his own. We pointed out his recent cataract operation as something he could not easily perform himself and how one would have to mine and smelt ore to make the scalpel, etc. To this he replied that he would have been healthy without the doctors, just blind. He did agree though that society has some uses, but that most of us depend far too much on others - we should try to do everything ourselves.

As a sailor, André likes to sail on his own, unlike some single-handers who take on crew for longer passages. His autopilot and wind vane are not working, so he hand steers. At night on passage he sleeps for 15 minutes at a time and wakes up for 5 minutes to check for ships and reset the course if needed. This waking up happens automatically, when on passage, without a need for an alarm. He uses a car radar detector to warn of nearby shipping and stays fit by doing isometric and martial arts exercises.

More on André's book, "Oceanborne Madness???", can be found here  

Fiji - First Impressions

We arrived here four days ago, cruising for a whole day and night through the islands to the little port town of Savusavu. The harbour is crowded with yachts, mainly from Europe and the US. There is a Canadian boat anchored just behind us - Symbiosis - with a single-hander on board named Andrei. He was based out of Vancouver and Maple Bay for a while and we will have drinks with him tonight or tomorrow. Andrei is not too popular with the local marinas because he is anchored on the edge of their mooring field and not paying for the privilege.

Another Canadian boat came to grief here a while back when it caught on fire and was abandoned. The story is not entirely clear, but it appears that the owner may have got on the wrong side of some locals and the fire was no accident. The steel boat, about the size of Ladybug, lies on its side just up the river - a reminder that we are guests here and need to watch our step.

Savusavu reminds us of a small Mexican town. The people are even friendlier and almost everyone we pass says hello, or 'Bula' (pronounced "mBula". Many people walk, the buses are cheap (40 cents), and the stores are small and mainly family-run. There is an excellent market everyday with decent fresh produce. The population is 50% Indian - mainly from south India. Rani is happy to be among people of her nationalìty and we are looking forward to some great street and restaurant food at reasonable prices.

The check-in process went smoothly with visits from Health and Customs/Immigration. EVeryone came on-board and we baked a mango upside-down cake to serve with coffee and tea. Even though there were 14 boats that had arrived that day, the officials were relaxed and friendly and in no hurry to move to the next boat. We filled our forms in before they arrived (delivered to our boat by Aseri, a Fijian boatman who works for the marina) and there was no inspection of the boat. Costs were quite high at about 170 Fijian dollars for the health visit and 80 for the bio-security chap, whom we visited at his office on shore. That amounts to about $150 Canadian. It could have been a lot more if the officials had come out on Sunday when we actually arrived, since overtime is charged. By the way, Fijians do not celebrate the Queen's Birthday any more, contrary to our old cruising guide information.

We are on a mooring operated by the Waitui Marina, which costs about $6 Canadian a day and includes use of a toilet and a slightly grungy shower, dinghy dock, and water. We elected to pay an extra few dollars a day to the rival marina (Copra Shed) to use their nicer showers - it keeps Rani happy! The marina moorings are helix moorings - a giant screw is twisted into the sea bed and they are supposedly suitable for sitting out a cyclone.

Many of our friends are moored nearby and we had Heather and John from 'Evergreen' along with our newly married friends, Bob and Ann off Charisma for an Indian dinner last night. Evergreen is out of Boston and we first met them in Samoa where they were alongside the same jetty. Heather and John jeep their boat in immaculate condition and are an inspiration to those of us with less talent in that direction. Charisma is from San Francisco and Bob was one of our rescuers when Ladybug dragged anchor in Huahine last year. Other neighbors include Charlotte, with Sue and Stefan on board. They hail from Northampton in the UK. Stefan was a full-time shepherd - surely an uncommon former occupation for a circumnavigating sailor! Rani is currently in town with them attending a seminar put on by one of the local ex-pats.

We will likely remain here a few more days and then start exploring the nearby islands.

Day 12 - On a mooring in Savusavu

We are at rest tonight on a mooring at the river mouth in Savusavu, Fiji. Position: 16 46.47 S 179 19.90 E. The anchorage is charming - a few small stores along a quiet road, Fijians walking in small groups, and 30 or 40 yachts from all over the world. Mangroves line the shore and the sun has just set behind the distant volcanic peaks of Vanua Levu. And it is calm - the first peaceful day we have had since we left New Zealand. So nice to be able to write this note without having to brace my body against the pitching and rolling!

We arrived at Noon, sailing all the way to the river mouth in a southeast breeze. Our friends Bob and Ann from Charisma helped us find a mooring and Bob came over in his dinghy to take our lines and secure Ladybug. Charisma had an even rougher trip than we did and are in the middle of engine repairs (due to sea water-contaminated fuel). We will compare notes after we have checked in and can leave the boat, tomorrow. We plan to spend about a week here, exploring, cleaning up the boat, and doing a few projects that we did not complete in New Zealand.

Stats from the trip: Total nautical miles: 1300 with 1192 in the 'right' direction. Time: 11 days, less 3 hours. Average speed 5 knots. Engine hours: 22 @ < 1500 rpm (about 36 liters of diesel consumed). We motored at 3-4 knots during the calms to keep from rolling too much as well as when we left the marina in NZ and on arrival at Savusavu. We sailed with un-reefed main and jib for a few days, but most of the trip was under 2 or 3-reefed main and partially furled jib. The last few days were under furled jib only in 15-30 knot following winds.

How to avoid the 'Cruising Bug'

This illness seems to be most prevalent in middle aged males, but it can strike anyone of any age. Often diagnosed as a form of escapism, symptoms include endless surfing of boat for sale ads on the web, subscriptions to cruising mags, obsessive following of cruising blogs, and an unhealthy interest in all things nautical. I propose two approaches to dealing with this disease - one preventative and one curative.

First the prevention: I call this the 'Cruising Simulator'. It is a room 10 by 20 feet containing a mock-up of a cruising sailboat interior, In fact, my first model of this will use a hull from one of the many cruising boats abandoned by terrified and inexperienced crews during their first storm at sea.

The cruising simulator will use a combination of NASA and fun-fair ride technology to simulate the motion of a boat at sea in a wide variety of sea conditions and wind directions. The device will be capable of rolling, pitching, and yawing through 50 degrees every few seconds. The climate of the simulated cabin will be controlled to provide realistic temperature/humidity combinations from Arctic to equatorial. A variety of simulated smells will also be available including 'diesel in the bilge', and 'hot sick'. Finally, digitally sampled sounds of wind and wave in addition to the thumps, squeals, and groans of a boat at sea will furnish a suitable audio background.

Individuals and couples suspected of developing the cruising bug will be locked in the simulator for 3 hour sessions and given a variety of tasks to carry out under typical open ocean conditions. Tasks will include cooking a warm meal from scratch, bleeding a diesel fuel line, drinking from a full cup of hot liquid, plotting a position on a chart, reading a book, using the heads, etc. There will, of course, be an enormous cost for each session in order to provide a completely realistic simulation of the cruising life.

Should the preventative 'medicine' fail to have the desired effect or be refused by the patient, I propose a straightforward cure that will also save on search and rescue costs. I call this the 'Get me the %#^$ out of here' box. Resembling an ordinary EPIRB locator beacon, the 'Get me the %#^$ out of here' box can be used when the patient(s) reaches a point where he/she/they realize that the dream does not match the reality and they just want to get the heck of the boat. Activating the beacon will summon a rescue helicopter to retrieve the patients and place a professional delivery crew on board. The crew will return the vessel to the patient's port of choice where it will be cleaned up and listed for sale with a yacht brokerage. Further curative options include assistance in buying a home to replace the one just sold to finance the cruise and psychological counselling.