Yesterday we left the Cousteau resort anchorage off Savusavu at 7 am, sailing off the hook and out past the reef. Once clear of the reef, the seas quickly built into closely spaced 1 meter swells with a 1 foot chop on top.
The wind was out of the southeast at about 12 knots and our destination, Koro Island, lay a little south of that direction, so we were close-hauled and heeled over all day. We bashed into increasingly lumpy seas, salt spray coating the dodger windows and the decks. I lubricated and set up the wind vane self-steering for the first time since our New Zealand passage and hunkered down behind the dodger. The motion below was not good unless one laid on the leeward settee. We took turns in the cockpit and snoozing down below, neither of us feeling like eating much.
As we neared Koro and tacked onto our third tack, the wind swung more into the east and it looked like we would lay our way point off Dere Bay, but soon the wind began to swing into the south, no doubt channeling along the west coast of Koro. This forced us to turn off to the west once again. We sailed through a confused sea for a few miles, the result of refracting swells coming together from both sides of Koro.
It was already 4 pm when we laid our last tack into Dere Bay and the light was dimming when we entered the wide pass an hour later. We took one of the free moorings off the Koro Beach Resort, having sailed more than 50 nautical miles to make good about 30. In choppy conditions like this, we tack through about 110 degrees. The waves impede progress and increase leeway, so even though we appear to tack through 90 degrees, we lose at least 10 degrees on each tack to leeway. Thus, a simple 25 mile passage becomes a tiring all-day experience!
Sunday, August 4, 2013
Friday, August 2, 2013
Savusavu to Cousteau Resort
Savusavu is an extremely convenient place for yachties. For about $6 Canadian per day you take a mooring ball, with access to free showers, clean water, and a secure dinghy dock a mere 100 meters row away. Two gas/diesel stations lie along the road a few hundred meters off. The downtown itself is a few minutes walk away and has a dozen hardware and dollar-type stores, a good market (especially on Saturday), and even a small health center. There are also a dozen inexpensive restaurants (although the Chinese one nearby is a hit or miss proposition and we missed last night!). Finally there is a decent butcher who will pack meats especially for yachties and a liquor store with a surprisingly large, if somewhat costly, selection of wines.
The problem is that after 6 weeks out in the islands, the noise, crowding, and temptations of such a place are a bit jarring. So we limited ourselves to 5 days on this visit. This was plenty of time to restock the boat with far too many fresh veggies, half a dozen bottles of cheap but decent Australian red wine, and an equal quantity of large bottles of excellent Fiji Bitter. To give you an idea of marketing here, I will detail a partial list of our shopping: 10 eggplants ($1 Fijian or about 60 cents Canadian!), a good-sized bag of okra ($1), which Rani is currently turning into a delicious smelling curry, 1/2 kg of green peppers (expensive here - $7.50), and a dozen tomatoes (also expensive at $7/kg), 6 cukes ($2), etc. Our little fridge is groaning under the load. We always start out with good intentions to limit ourselves to a week or two worth of veggies and end up shopping for a month :)
We also re-filled our water tanks, rowing our jerry jugs to and from the nearby diesel/water dock. Yesterday, we re-assembled our welded and strengthened bow roller fitting, caulking it generously and bolting it in place. Rani's stomach bug even cleared up on its own a few days ago. So today there was nothing to hold us here and after lunch we left for the nearby Cousteau resort anchorage.
Since the wind was favorable (on the beam), I hoisted the main and slipped the mooring lines under sail, unfurling most of the jib to give us more maneuverability in the tightly packed mooring field. Rani is always a bit nervous when I do something like this, but to her credit she only let out a couple of shrieks as we sailed a little close to the bow of one moored sailboat and swerved around the stern of a big lean Dashew-designed aluminum power cruiser.
In addition to being market day, Saturday is also sail training day for local children, and 20 or so little Optimist prams and a Laser dinghy or two provided some more excitement as we cleared the mooring field. However with the exception of a few lulls, the wind held, and we sailed out into Savusavu Bay, which today resembled a large and beautiful lake. On all sides, hills and mountains line the bay and impressively solid-looking cumulus clouds towered all along the western horizon. The wind was off the land and there was only the lightest popple to disturb the water. We sheeted in the sails as we rounded the corner past the cargo wharf and laid a course that would keep us about 1/2 mile off the reefs. To starboard, the green hills looked inviting and Rani commented that she wished we had got out for a hike. However the weather here has been very warm, humid, and windless, so just the thought of climbing up the paths into these hills brought me out in a sweat.
The wind came more in front of us and we were forced to sail well past the resort before putting in a tack and closing with the shore. We have been here before, so had a waypoint for our old anchorage. We beat in under jib, rolling this in for the last hundred meters and ghosting toward the sand lined shores. Making only a knot, Rani called out the depth, while I stood on the bow ready to release the anchor. At 10 meters depth, I asked Rani to turn the boat into the wind and let out the main sheet and when we had lost way, I dropped the anchor. We let Ladybug drift slowly backwards as I paid out 30 meters of rode and I then pulled the main all the way out, using a preventer line to back the sail and hold it against the shrouds. Rani steered the boat backwards downwind, while I paid out some more rode until I felt the hook catch and dig in.
After dropping and flaking the mainsail, We split one of our last New Zealand Tui beers and relaxed in the cockpit. It had been very satisfying to do everything under sail even on such a short passage.
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| Sunset in the anchorage |
The problem is that after 6 weeks out in the islands, the noise, crowding, and temptations of such a place are a bit jarring. So we limited ourselves to 5 days on this visit. This was plenty of time to restock the boat with far too many fresh veggies, half a dozen bottles of cheap but decent Australian red wine, and an equal quantity of large bottles of excellent Fiji Bitter. To give you an idea of marketing here, I will detail a partial list of our shopping: 10 eggplants ($1 Fijian or about 60 cents Canadian!), a good-sized bag of okra ($1), which Rani is currently turning into a delicious smelling curry, 1/2 kg of green peppers (expensive here - $7.50), and a dozen tomatoes (also expensive at $7/kg), 6 cukes ($2), etc. Our little fridge is groaning under the load. We always start out with good intentions to limit ourselves to a week or two worth of veggies and end up shopping for a month :)
We also re-filled our water tanks, rowing our jerry jugs to and from the nearby diesel/water dock. Yesterday, we re-assembled our welded and strengthened bow roller fitting, caulking it generously and bolting it in place. Rani's stomach bug even cleared up on its own a few days ago. So today there was nothing to hold us here and after lunch we left for the nearby Cousteau resort anchorage.
Since the wind was favorable (on the beam), I hoisted the main and slipped the mooring lines under sail, unfurling most of the jib to give us more maneuverability in the tightly packed mooring field. Rani is always a bit nervous when I do something like this, but to her credit she only let out a couple of shrieks as we sailed a little close to the bow of one moored sailboat and swerved around the stern of a big lean Dashew-designed aluminum power cruiser.
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| We tried to avoid running over these little Optimists |
In addition to being market day, Saturday is also sail training day for local children, and 20 or so little Optimist prams and a Laser dinghy or two provided some more excitement as we cleared the mooring field. However with the exception of a few lulls, the wind held, and we sailed out into Savusavu Bay, which today resembled a large and beautiful lake. On all sides, hills and mountains line the bay and impressively solid-looking cumulus clouds towered all along the western horizon. The wind was off the land and there was only the lightest popple to disturb the water. We sheeted in the sails as we rounded the corner past the cargo wharf and laid a course that would keep us about 1/2 mile off the reefs. To starboard, the green hills looked inviting and Rani commented that she wished we had got out for a hike. However the weather here has been very warm, humid, and windless, so just the thought of climbing up the paths into these hills brought me out in a sweat.
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| Sail training frenzy |
The wind came more in front of us and we were forced to sail well past the resort before putting in a tack and closing with the shore. We have been here before, so had a waypoint for our old anchorage. We beat in under jib, rolling this in for the last hundred meters and ghosting toward the sand lined shores. Making only a knot, Rani called out the depth, while I stood on the bow ready to release the anchor. At 10 meters depth, I asked Rani to turn the boat into the wind and let out the main sheet and when we had lost way, I dropped the anchor. We let Ladybug drift slowly backwards as I paid out 30 meters of rode and I then pulled the main all the way out, using a preventer line to back the sail and hold it against the shrouds. Rani steered the boat backwards downwind, while I paid out some more rode until I felt the hook catch and dig in.
After dropping and flaking the mainsail, We split one of our last New Zealand Tui beers and relaxed in the cockpit. It had been very satisfying to do everything under sail even on such a short passage.
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Back in Savusavu
We sailed back to Savusavu on Monday after a couple of peaceful days in Fawn Harbour. The superyacht, Ethereal sailed in behind us, so large that she appeared stationary in the light breeze, but in fact steadily overhauled us. Ethereal is 58 meters long and is owned by Bill Joy, a computer programmer and one of the founders of Sun Microsystems. You can read more about her here.
We met up again with Ann and Bob on Charisma, who showed us pictures of their amazing trip in the southern Lau group. We are inspired to following in their footsteps and may head out to the Lau after a visit to Suva to see a dentist.
In Savusavu we are having a repair done to our bow roller fitting, which has a broken weld. We will have an extra reinforcement welded across the main roller to increase its rigidness. The fitting has come under high loads when the anchor chain caught on coral during retrieval or when we were anchored in places where a large chop was coming into the anchorage and we had the bridle led across the roller.
We will be here for a few days refilling diesel, propane, and water, doing laundry, and stocking up in fresh goods at the Saturday market.
We met up again with Ann and Bob on Charisma, who showed us pictures of their amazing trip in the southern Lau group. We are inspired to following in their footsteps and may head out to the Lau after a visit to Suva to see a dentist.
In Savusavu we are having a repair done to our bow roller fitting, which has a broken weld. We will have an extra reinforcement welded across the main roller to increase its rigidness. The fitting has come under high loads when the anchor chain caught on coral during retrieval or when we were anchored in places where a large chop was coming into the anchorage and we had the bridle led across the roller.
We will be here for a few days refilling diesel, propane, and water, doing laundry, and stocking up in fresh goods at the Saturday market.
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Rambling on Rabi
On one of those windy days on Rabi we hiked across to the north tip of the island escorted by Tabeta and her young brother Taipau. Tabeta chatted with confidence while Taipau competed silently for hike leader, grabbing the machete and swiping at bothersome vines or branches along the way. Sometimes he would dart off the path to bring us edible treats like cocoa pods. We sucked on the fleshy pulp around the seeds inside and found it very refreshing. The taste reminded me of lemonade. Some of the pods were too mature, the seeds already sprouted and quite dry, so we threw these away. It was interesting to see the different stages of growth. We have kept some seeds to dry and roast for making "cocoa tea", brewed local style by boiling the roasted seeds and simmering for a while. The trick is to add lots of sugar and milk!
The trail climbed up a hill, passed beside a kava patch belonging to Tabeta's family and then through a taro patch planted by Tabeta's cousins. We went down into the valley on the other side and came out at a small sandy beach beside an ancient tree. The wind was blowing right into the bay and the sea was full of whitecaps. There was a woven palm shack at the other end of the beach but no sign of life. Three hammocks hung limply from a large tree beside a little freshwater stream. Tabeta led us across to a neat looking field of taro and showed us how they use a sharpened branch to dig a hole for planting. It is hard work keeping the field cleared as the jungle takes over very very quickly. The family who owns the land here come over from the main village and must work very hard to maintain their plantation. There was a wooden cradle built in the shallow water for drying copra.
Little Taipau shimmied up a very tall leafless fruit tree and shook the branches, raining custard apples all around us. He did not climb down until the very last fruit had fallen to the ground! We used the machete to peel the fruits and enjoyed munching on them while swinging in the hammocks. Our feast continued on the return trail to Albert Cove as Tabeta opened up some young sprouting coconuts for us - their sweet spongy centres make a delicious dessert. She also picked some tiny purple berries on bushes growing beside the path and I found a chilli bush. All in all it was a lovely nature walk.
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| A grand old tree along the trail |
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| Talking Taro! |
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| Rani planting taro with Tabeta's help |
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| Can you see Taipau in the tree? |
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| Taipau breaking open Indian almonds |
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| edible purple berries |
Sunday, July 28, 2013
Rabi Island Songs
I have converted a few songs from the videos Rani shot (at night) at Albert Cove. These are in MP3 format and you should be able to download them and listen to them on most devices. The thumping noise in the second video is the pounding of kava in the background. The quality is not great due to being recorded on an inexpensive point and shoot while sitting beside a bunch of noisy kava drinkers. The files are also a bit large - between 1 and 5 MBs - that is what the free processing software produced by default.
Bill Solo
Pauline and friends plus kava pounding
Tabetha, Pauline, and Rara
Bill Solo
Pauline and friends plus kava pounding
Tabetha, Pauline, and Rara
Passage to Fawn Harbour
I have not written about a passage in a while, so to forestall my sailing friends from asking if we ever use our boat as anything but a floating home, I will jot down a few notes on our passage from Kioa Island to Fawn Harbour.
We left Kioa on Saturday morning anticipating a moderate breeze from the ESE. Instead we hoisted all sail and made a very modest 3 knots in a NE breeze and closely spaced one meter swell. As we passed the reefs at the entrance to the bay that fronts the village of Salia, several dug-out outrigger canoes kept us company, their occupants keeping pace with us easily in their handy craft. These fishermen had been our companions in the anchorage and we would often awake to hear them talking to one another as they hand-lined from their boats inside the reef.
The wind was blowing nicely down from the north end of the big island of Taveuni, but died as it neared us and soon we were under motor and sail, skirting the edge of the Rainbow Reef. We elected to cut inside the reef, across the entrance to Viani Bay, since there was too little wind to sail now. This would save a couple of miles and we could anchor in Viani Bay if the wind died out altogether. As we neared the "Fish Factory" dive site, the wind sprang up out of the southwest, blowing from the south end of Taveuni island - 180 degrees from that we had seen blowing from the north end. We turned south, cut the engine, and laid a tack for Taveuni so as to later clear the reef on a westerly tack down to Fawn Harbour.
How pleasant it is to silence the engine and feel the wind bring the boat to life. The seas were little distrubed by swell and Ladybug laid over a few degrees and settled into an effortless close haul at 4 knots in 6 knots of wind. The only excitement came shortly after lunch, when we were once again skirting the Rainbow Reef on a tack to the west. A large ferry/cargo vessel was on a reciprocal course and showed no sign of altering. I let her approach to about a mile and altered 20 degrees to starboard and toward the reef to give her a decent clearance. We passed about 1/2 a mile apart and the wind clocked a little into the south allowing us to just pass clear of the reef and lay a direct course for Fawn Habrour.
The sun was behind clouds when We entered the channel at Fawn Harbour and I placed Ladybug on autopilot just off the pass to lower and furl the main. I told Rani I would like to sail in under jib, despite the winding entry, because our way-points were good and we had navigated the pass once before. She agreed, to my surprise, and made her way to the bow to watch while I steered and monitored our progress on the chart program. The reefs are obvious in the passage and there are posts at each dogleg, so it was a simple matter to sail in, gybing the jib across and furling it a few turns to slow us down. A current was ebbing from the pass at about 1- 1.5 knots, but we had plenty of wind now from the south pushing us in.
Once past the first dogleg, the swell vanished and it felt like we were in a slow moving river - although the coral banks close by on each side gave the lie to this. We waved to a bamboo fishing raft carrying four people. One man was poling and a woman added her paddle to make way against the tide. We turned the last corner and the narrow channel widened into a lagoon in which floated two small palm covered islands. A few more turns on the roller-furler to slow Ladybug to a respectable speed for setting the hook. We close-reached under jib toward the settlement at the head of the lagoon, dropping anchor under sail in about 30 feet. Rani put the helm hard over to starboard to avoid running over the chain as I paid it out. It felt wonderful to end the passage in this peaceful way, with Ladybug floating in a salt water lake just off the fringing reefs.
We left Kioa on Saturday morning anticipating a moderate breeze from the ESE. Instead we hoisted all sail and made a very modest 3 knots in a NE breeze and closely spaced one meter swell. As we passed the reefs at the entrance to the bay that fronts the village of Salia, several dug-out outrigger canoes kept us company, their occupants keeping pace with us easily in their handy craft. These fishermen had been our companions in the anchorage and we would often awake to hear them talking to one another as they hand-lined from their boats inside the reef.
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| Fisherman of Kioa |
The wind was blowing nicely down from the north end of the big island of Taveuni, but died as it neared us and soon we were under motor and sail, skirting the edge of the Rainbow Reef. We elected to cut inside the reef, across the entrance to Viani Bay, since there was too little wind to sail now. This would save a couple of miles and we could anchor in Viani Bay if the wind died out altogether. As we neared the "Fish Factory" dive site, the wind sprang up out of the southwest, blowing from the south end of Taveuni island - 180 degrees from that we had seen blowing from the north end. We turned south, cut the engine, and laid a tack for Taveuni so as to later clear the reef on a westerly tack down to Fawn Harbour.
How pleasant it is to silence the engine and feel the wind bring the boat to life. The seas were little distrubed by swell and Ladybug laid over a few degrees and settled into an effortless close haul at 4 knots in 6 knots of wind. The only excitement came shortly after lunch, when we were once again skirting the Rainbow Reef on a tack to the west. A large ferry/cargo vessel was on a reciprocal course and showed no sign of altering. I let her approach to about a mile and altered 20 degrees to starboard and toward the reef to give her a decent clearance. We passed about 1/2 a mile apart and the wind clocked a little into the south allowing us to just pass clear of the reef and lay a direct course for Fawn Habrour.
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| A family poles and paddles their raft at the edge of the reef lined entrance to Fawn Harbour |
The sun was behind clouds when We entered the channel at Fawn Harbour and I placed Ladybug on autopilot just off the pass to lower and furl the main. I told Rani I would like to sail in under jib, despite the winding entry, because our way-points were good and we had navigated the pass once before. She agreed, to my surprise, and made her way to the bow to watch while I steered and monitored our progress on the chart program. The reefs are obvious in the passage and there are posts at each dogleg, so it was a simple matter to sail in, gybing the jib across and furling it a few turns to slow us down. A current was ebbing from the pass at about 1- 1.5 knots, but we had plenty of wind now from the south pushing us in.
Once past the first dogleg, the swell vanished and it felt like we were in a slow moving river - although the coral banks close by on each side gave the lie to this. We waved to a bamboo fishing raft carrying four people. One man was poling and a woman added her paddle to make way against the tide. We turned the last corner and the narrow channel widened into a lagoon in which floated two small palm covered islands. A few more turns on the roller-furler to slow Ladybug to a respectable speed for setting the hook. We close-reached under jib toward the settlement at the head of the lagoon, dropping anchor under sail in about 30 feet. Rani put the helm hard over to starboard to avoid running over the chain as I paid it out. It felt wonderful to end the passage in this peaceful way, with Ladybug floating in a salt water lake just off the fringing reefs.
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| We finally applied Ladybug's new vinyl lettering today on the quiet waters of Fawn Harbour. |
Friday, July 26, 2013
Return to Kioa
We had promised to come back to help with the library organization and when the winds abated, we sailed over from nearby Booca Bay and anchored again just off the beach at Kioa. The last few days have been predictably hectic. Fea Fea, the head teacher was very happy that we had returned. He had plans to build new shelving for one wall of the library and we discussed what he wanted and looked over a supply of lumber and materials. Much of this had been donated to repair a house damaged in a tsunami or was left over from the construction of the new kindergarten building.
I drew up some plans that made use of kindergarten siding off-cuts as shelves and ripped 2 X 2 lumber as the supporting structure, with some thin ply (we had two sheets available) to strengthen and brace the structure. The overall size would be about 12 feet long by 6 feet high and a little over a foot deep. Over the next two days, I worked with Seelie, the school manager to build the shelving. Seelie is an experienced carpenter with 5 houses to his credit and it was a pleasure to work with such a capable person. I was particularly impressed by how he could bang in a big 4 inch nail in a few blows when it took me twice as many!
We requisitioned the island generator, normally used to run the communal fish freezer and rigged up a jig to rip the long rough 2 X 4 lumber. A Makita circular saw was borrowed from one of the women in the village and together with another helper we ripped 8 long timbers, planing them by hand. The wood was wet and the ripping slow because the saw was a bit dull. Hand planing all this rough wet lumber was also slow, tiring work and took until near the end of the first day. We finished the day by assembled the back - a heavy lattice of 2 X 2 posts and stringers braced by plywood sheeting glued and nailed.
The second day we assembled the front lattice and raised the back, leaning it against a building. We glued and nailed thin plywood sheets to the ends and fastened the front lattice to the side panels. Finally we laid the shelving, ripped from siding off-cuts, along the stringers and nailed these in place. The whole giant unit was lifted by a classroom of boys and girls and carried across the playing field and into the library room where with much re-arrangement of shelving and piles of books, it was moved into place. Seelie then fastened it to the wall with concrete nails and Fea Fea got out some cans of stain left over from the kindergarten and we stained the bookcase with two coats.
Meanwhile, Rani was working with Lepa, the new librarian to train her on the library system computer program. They roped in a few young helpers to practice checking out books and by the end of the day I think Lepa felt comfortable with the system. While I had been building, Rani had been helping organize books and had made good progress on the adult fiction and nonfiction as well as the youth section. She had reorganized the categories, too, to better suit the age ranges of the children.
To our surprise, the teachers had us over for a lovely lunch on the second day in their offices. We ate eggplant curry and rotis made by the students as well as lovely home-made rolls and each teacher made a speech to thank us for our efforts. They are practiced speech makers on Kioa and our own speeches were a pale shadow of theirs but we tried to let them know how much we have enjoyed our experiences here.
After work on Friday, we had the teachers out to the boat for a visit. None had been on a 'yacht' before and I believe they enjoyed seeing how we lived as much as we enjoyed sharing this with them. We will be sad to leave here, but it is time to see my broken tooth looked at and we need to fix a broken weld on our bow roller, so today we sail toward Savusavu.
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| Chris and Seelie begin work on putting together the rear lattice |
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| Chris rips a 2 X 2 using a jig and somewhat dull circular saw. |
We requisitioned the island generator, normally used to run the communal fish freezer and rigged up a jig to rip the long rough 2 X 4 lumber. A Makita circular saw was borrowed from one of the women in the village and together with another helper we ripped 8 long timbers, planing them by hand. The wood was wet and the ripping slow because the saw was a bit dull. Hand planing all this rough wet lumber was also slow, tiring work and took until near the end of the first day. We finished the day by assembled the back - a heavy lattice of 2 X 2 posts and stringers braced by plywood sheeting glued and nailed.
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| I had lots of help. Here some of the older boys steady my work bench (an old school desk) while I cut some more paneling to fill a gap in the back of the shelving. |
The second day we assembled the front lattice and raised the back, leaning it against a building. We glued and nailed thin plywood sheets to the ends and fastened the front lattice to the side panels. Finally we laid the shelving, ripped from siding off-cuts, along the stringers and nailed these in place. The whole giant unit was lifted by a classroom of boys and girls and carried across the playing field and into the library room where with much re-arrangement of shelving and piles of books, it was moved into place. Seelie then fastened it to the wall with concrete nails and Fea Fea got out some cans of stain left over from the kindergarten and we stained the bookcase with two coats.
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| Fea Fea and Chris start staining the shelving. |
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| Rani and Lepa take a break from training on the library computer system |
Meanwhile, Rani was working with Lepa, the new librarian to train her on the library system computer program. They roped in a few young helpers to practice checking out books and by the end of the day I think Lepa felt comfortable with the system. While I had been building, Rani had been helping organize books and had made good progress on the adult fiction and nonfiction as well as the youth section. She had reorganized the categories, too, to better suit the age ranges of the children.
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| Friday afternoon sports on the playing field. |
To our surprise, the teachers had us over for a lovely lunch on the second day in their offices. We ate eggplant curry and rotis made by the students as well as lovely home-made rolls and each teacher made a speech to thank us for our efforts. They are practiced speech makers on Kioa and our own speeches were a pale shadow of theirs but we tried to let them know how much we have enjoyed our experiences here.
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| Finished shelving with stain still drying |
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| Roseia, Fea Fea, Chris and Lepa on Ladybug |
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| Rani thought Lepa looked Indian, so she convinced her to let her braid her hair and added a special Indian hairpiece (a prandi) to extend Lepa's already impressive tresses. |
Thursday, July 25, 2013
The Copra Express
Copra is dried meat from the coconut - rich in oil (70 percent) that can be extracted and used to make soaps and cosmetics, lamp oil (once the primary source of lighting in parts of India), bio-diesel for powering cars and buses or generation of electricity, and as a cooking and baking oil high in saturated fats. Copra is mainly harvested by smallholders rather than on large plantations. It has long been a cash crop in the south pacific and we have learned that it is an important source of hard cash in economies (such as those of the Polynesian islands, Tonga, and Fiji) that are mainly based on subsistence.
In French Polynesia the government subsidizes copra production, paying far above the world price for the product. Unfortunately for the small Fijian copra farmers, this is not the case here and the prices we heard quoted were from 40 to 50 cents a kg. It takes about 7 coconuts to make a kg and these have to be removed from the tree (someone typically climbs the tree and harvests the ripe nuts), broken in half, the meat scooped out, and then sun dried or dried over a fire. Here in Fiji the locals use steel drums as the basis of stoves for drying the copra. Coconut husks and gathered firewood are used to fuel these stoves and it takes between 2 and 3 days to dry out a load of copra. Once dry the copra is packed in sacks and taken to a warehouse facility, typically run here by an island council, where the grower is paid for their product by weight.
The profits from copra gathering are not great when you take into account the labour required and the transportation costs. In the case of our friends on Rabi, they would have to pay $40 to move their 7 bags (about 280 kgs) of copra from their plantation to the nearby warehouse in the main village. This is a distance of only 5 miles, but gasoline is expensive here and there are few powered boats in the area to do the job. While $40 does not sound like much, it would remove nearly 40 percent of their earnings. When we understood this, we offered to take the copra and some of the family down the coast to the main village on our way south.
The day we chose to leave (Saturday) was overcast. I went ashore in the dinghy and we loaded four sacks of copra, transferring them to the deck and cockpit of Ladybug. Some of these sacks weighed more than Rani and it was no light matter to get them out of the dinghy, even with Kasipoa helping from the deck. Then the heavens opened and we put tarps and awnings up to keep our cargo dry. Rani was against going, suggesting we wait until Sunday when the weather should be better, so we told the families we planned to wait. Then, we saw our friends Tabeta and Rara wading along the shore, intent on going into town despite bad weather and high tide. They had run out of Fijian tobacco two days earlier and could not wait another day. We felt bad and I rowed over to head them off and tell the families we would go today anyway, provided we could take Samuel to guide us.
So - we loaded the remaining 3 bags of copra, 7 people, one dried octopus, and a large sack of clothes. We tied Samuel's outrigger canoe to the wind vane frame and raised the anchor. The visibility was poor, but with Samuel on the bow we weaved our way out of Albert Cove between the reefs. We towed our little dinghy with two sacks of copra as well as Samuel's canoe. As we headed south inside the reefs, Samuel guided from the bow, with Tabeta up the ratlines helping, and Rani watched our chart plotting program down below. We sailed for a while under jib but had to dowse sail in a vicious squall and proceeded under motor from then on. A large swell set in from the north and the motion soon made Teteke feel ill. We had her move outside and sit in the cockpit under an awning. The younger boys were told to lie down below and thankfully nobody was physically sick.
The navigation was tortuous and we had some conflicts with what Rani recommended based on our charts and where Samuel was pointing us. I gave Samuel the benefit of the doubt and despite almost zero visibility in black (rain) squalls we did eventually make our way into a very tight anchorage off a beach at Nuku. We unloaded passengers and cargo, rowing our dinghy in and out to the beach 5 or 6 times. We were all soaked through and exhausted, and the copra had to be brought inside Samuel's house to be re-dried. However everyone made it to shore in one piece and seemed to be happy to be back at their village, so I guess our first cargo/passenger carrying trip was a success.
In French Polynesia the government subsidizes copra production, paying far above the world price for the product. Unfortunately for the small Fijian copra farmers, this is not the case here and the prices we heard quoted were from 40 to 50 cents a kg. It takes about 7 coconuts to make a kg and these have to be removed from the tree (someone typically climbs the tree and harvests the ripe nuts), broken in half, the meat scooped out, and then sun dried or dried over a fire. Here in Fiji the locals use steel drums as the basis of stoves for drying the copra. Coconut husks and gathered firewood are used to fuel these stoves and it takes between 2 and 3 days to dry out a load of copra. Once dry the copra is packed in sacks and taken to a warehouse facility, typically run here by an island council, where the grower is paid for their product by weight.
The day we chose to leave (Saturday) was overcast. I went ashore in the dinghy and we loaded four sacks of copra, transferring them to the deck and cockpit of Ladybug. Some of these sacks weighed more than Rani and it was no light matter to get them out of the dinghy, even with Kasipoa helping from the deck. Then the heavens opened and we put tarps and awnings up to keep our cargo dry. Rani was against going, suggesting we wait until Sunday when the weather should be better, so we told the families we planned to wait. Then, we saw our friends Tabeta and Rara wading along the shore, intent on going into town despite bad weather and high tide. They had run out of Fijian tobacco two days earlier and could not wait another day. We felt bad and I rowed over to head them off and tell the families we would go today anyway, provided we could take Samuel to guide us.
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| Our passengers huddle under the awning to stay dry |
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| Chris rows our cargo and Samuel and Tetieke ashore. Samuel is sitting on a sack of copra. |
The navigation was tortuous and we had some conflicts with what Rani recommended based on our charts and where Samuel was pointing us. I gave Samuel the benefit of the doubt and despite almost zero visibility in black (rain) squalls we did eventually make our way into a very tight anchorage off a beach at Nuku. We unloaded passengers and cargo, rowing our dinghy in and out to the beach 5 or 6 times. We were all soaked through and exhausted, and the copra had to be brought inside Samuel's house to be re-dried. However everyone made it to shore in one piece and seemed to be happy to be back at their village, so I guess our first cargo/passenger carrying trip was a success.
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| The weather cleared up a bit after we arrived and Samuel gave us a tour of his and the neighboring villages. |
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| As usual, Rani was right - we should have waited until the next day when things were considerably calmer. These kids and one adult came out to visit us just before we headed south to Buca Bay. Yes that dinghy is as small as ours - designed to hold 2-3 people! |
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
The Bells of Rabi
Note - Chris wrote this post, but Rani posted it...
As we sailed away from the village of Tabwewa on Sunday morning, the bells began to chime, calling the people to church. Earlier, a handful of cheerful and noisy children had paddled and swum out to Ladybug to say hi, but few adults were to be seen. And we knew why. Saturday night is the main night for 'grog' (Kava) drinking because on Sunday, the people do not work. The men (and some women) stay up, often until dawn, drinking shell after shell of kava. Starting in the late afternoon, we saw groups of men gathered around heavy steel pestles, taking it in turn to drive an iron rod into the pestle to pulverize the dried and cleaned kava roots. On each stroke, the rod was removed, striking the side of the pestle and emitting a chime, similar in sound to, but very different in significance from the bells we would hear the next morning. Interestingly, the Banabans on Rabi only took up kava drinking when they emigrated to Fiji in 1945.
We had our first grog drinking evening a few days before at Motawa, with 'The Old Man', Panea, presiding over the kava bowl and Bill's son Kasipoa and son in law, Taipau, taking turns to pound the roots. We had brought a bundle of kava purchased in Savusavu as our contribution and Panea carefully cleaned this first, removing some dirt from the turns and hollows in the roots. The sons then pounded the roots using an iron rod as tall as a man and a heavy steel pestle made by welding an inverted steel cone to a plate about a foot square. The powder was brought inside in a small bowl, transferred to a fine cloth, and then into the kava bowl, which had been partly filled with well water. Panea then began to repeatedly massage and twist the carefully bundled powder, the cloth taking on something of the role of a tea bag being squeezed. The water quickly turned brown and muddy looking. Panea tasted it by dipping a shell made from half a coconut. He judged the drink to be too strong and added some more well water before offering me a full shell. Samuel instructed me to clap once before I received the shell and three times after drinking. I knew we were expected to drink it all in one go and did so. I was served first and Rani also tried a shell, although they served me a 'low tide' shell - only half full.
The kava was peppery and not unpleasant. We had been told that it would numb the lips and make one feel mellow and relaxed, especially on an empty stomach. This probably explains why the grog afficionados waited to eat supper until midnight or so. I did experience a mild tingling initially, but as the night wore on and we drank shell after shell of kava, he said he definitely felt a mild buzz - maybe equivalent to drinking a couple of glasses of wine. The shell went around the hut, most of the men and women drinking full shells until the bowl was empty. The used root powder was saved and re-used later after a second pounding. New root brought from their plantation up the hill was pounded when the root we brought had been finished. Altogether they extracted four large bowls of grog from the 1/2 pound of roots we brought and we must have drunk about twice as much again from their kava before retiring around 9:30pm (we had been drinking for 6 hours!). The serious grog drinkers continued into the early morning.
Kava also seems to have a mild diuretic effect and I had to make a few trips down the beach in the night. But perhaps this was due to the large volume of liquid I drank - 16 or 18 shells, each about 1.5 cups!
To accompany the kava, we ate chilli provided by Ladybug and a special vegetarian dish that Tabeta and Panea made with Rani's help. This is called palusami and I will describe the recipe for this in another post. They even killed and boiled one of their chickens in my honour. Of course we had some of the local staple - a starchy root vegetable that is nicknamed 'elephant ear' for its giant leaves (we have posted photos of this plant on our blog).
We also sang songs accompanied by the newly repaired ukulele and my own uke. Everyone here seems to have a good ear and there were many talented uke players in the family. For my part, I played and sang tunes by the Beatles, Eagles, Elton John, and Simon and Garfunkel. The family members took turns to sing Banaban songs - many of which describe the history of their people. The harmonies and rhythms were lovely and I will try to post recordings of a few of these to this blog.
We felt so very lucky to be invited to spend a day with this family. They have little, but are willing to share what they have with new friends. This season we have slowed way down and while we are covering a much smaller area, we are enjoying ourselves more because we are getting to know local people better.
As we sailed away from the village of Tabwewa on Sunday morning, the bells began to chime, calling the people to church. Earlier, a handful of cheerful and noisy children had paddled and swum out to Ladybug to say hi, but few adults were to be seen. And we knew why. Saturday night is the main night for 'grog' (Kava) drinking because on Sunday, the people do not work. The men (and some women) stay up, often until dawn, drinking shell after shell of kava. Starting in the late afternoon, we saw groups of men gathered around heavy steel pestles, taking it in turn to drive an iron rod into the pestle to pulverize the dried and cleaned kava roots. On each stroke, the rod was removed, striking the side of the pestle and emitting a chime, similar in sound to, but very different in significance from the bells we would hear the next morning. Interestingly, the Banabans on Rabi only took up kava drinking when they emigrated to Fiji in 1945.
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| Panea, Tabeta, and little Taipau - Panea is cleaning our kava |
We had our first grog drinking evening a few days before at Motawa, with 'The Old Man', Panea, presiding over the kava bowl and Bill's son Kasipoa and son in law, Taipau, taking turns to pound the roots. We had brought a bundle of kava purchased in Savusavu as our contribution and Panea carefully cleaned this first, removing some dirt from the turns and hollows in the roots. The sons then pounded the roots using an iron rod as tall as a man and a heavy steel pestle made by welding an inverted steel cone to a plate about a foot square. The powder was brought inside in a small bowl, transferred to a fine cloth, and then into the kava bowl, which had been partly filled with well water. Panea then began to repeatedly massage and twist the carefully bundled powder, the cloth taking on something of the role of a tea bag being squeezed. The water quickly turned brown and muddy looking. Panea tasted it by dipping a shell made from half a coconut. He judged the drink to be too strong and added some more well water before offering me a full shell. Samuel instructed me to clap once before I received the shell and three times after drinking. I knew we were expected to drink it all in one go and did so. I was served first and Rani also tried a shell, although they served me a 'low tide' shell - only half full.
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| Kasipoa pounds the root using an iron rod and steel pestle |
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| Panea squeezes the good stuff out of the powdered kava by massaging it inside a folded cloth |
The kava was peppery and not unpleasant. We had been told that it would numb the lips and make one feel mellow and relaxed, especially on an empty stomach. This probably explains why the grog afficionados waited to eat supper until midnight or so. I did experience a mild tingling initially, but as the night wore on and we drank shell after shell of kava, he said he definitely felt a mild buzz - maybe equivalent to drinking a couple of glasses of wine. The shell went around the hut, most of the men and women drinking full shells until the bowl was empty. The used root powder was saved and re-used later after a second pounding. New root brought from their plantation up the hill was pounded when the root we brought had been finished. Altogether they extracted four large bowls of grog from the 1/2 pound of roots we brought and we must have drunk about twice as much again from their kava before retiring around 9:30pm (we had been drinking for 6 hours!). The serious grog drinkers continued into the early morning.
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| Samuel and Chris playing mellow tunes |
Kava also seems to have a mild diuretic effect and I had to make a few trips down the beach in the night. But perhaps this was due to the large volume of liquid I drank - 16 or 18 shells, each about 1.5 cups!
To accompany the kava, we ate chilli provided by Ladybug and a special vegetarian dish that Tabeta and Panea made with Rani's help. This is called palusami and I will describe the recipe for this in another post. They even killed and boiled one of their chickens in my honour. Of course we had some of the local staple - a starchy root vegetable that is nicknamed 'elephant ear' for its giant leaves (we have posted photos of this plant on our blog).
 |
| Saturday night ritual in Tabwewa - pounding the kava . |
We also sang songs accompanied by the newly repaired ukulele and my own uke. Everyone here seems to have a good ear and there were many talented uke players in the family. For my part, I played and sang tunes by the Beatles, Eagles, Elton John, and Simon and Garfunkel. The family members took turns to sing Banaban songs - many of which describe the history of their people. The harmonies and rhythms were lovely and I will try to post recordings of a few of these to this blog.
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| Pauline has a lovely voice and is also a good uke player |
Days Of Our Lives
A few days after our arrival at Albert Cove, Bill and Tekete's older daughter Tabeta arrived and livened the place up with her laughter and cheeky humour. She is almost the same age as Rara (thirty something) and the two hung out together to gossip and laugh as young women do in any culture. As I got to know them better, they opened up and told me more about their personal lives. Tabeta's first husband, whom she had loved, had been bitten by a shark while diving in deep water off the reef at Albert Cove. His four diving buddies had taken him to the clinic at the village but had not staunched the blood draining from his leg, so he died from blood loss. He was only nineteen. Tabeta was six months pregnant at the time and their daughter is now being raised by the in-laws. She later adopted her cousin Rara's six month old baby boy.
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| Tabeta catching breakfast |
We found out that marriages are arranged by the parents although two people who love each other can ask permission to get married. Most couples have large families. Children are often adopted by extended families in cases of separation or if they cannot financially afford to keep the child. Sadly, physical abuse (wife beating) is also fairly common.
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| Some of Bill's family - Taipau, Pauline, baby Steven, Kasipoa, Bill, and Tabeta - note giant grog bowl on left made from oyster farm float. |
The families we met were devout Catholics (all wore rosaries around their necks) and we later visited their church, Our Lady Fatima, in Tabwewa. On Sundays at Albert Cove they prayed to the Virgin at an altar set up in Rara and Panea's house. This brought back memories of the Mexican fishermen who often had shrines close to their remote fishing shacks in the Baja.
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| Rani and Tabeta cooking rotis |
As we spent more time ashore, our lives slowed down to the rhythm of Rabi time.
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