Fiji days: part 2

Weds, April 8

We have booked a day cruise on a sailing catamaran out to one of the dozens of tropical islands off shore. We hope to have an "authentic Fijian experience" highlighted by free beverages and entertainment on the boat trip. The brochure mentions a Kava ceremony as well. Kava is a popular drink in Fiji, prepared from ground up Kava root which is than put into a bandana and wrung out in a bowl of fresh water. The result is a thin, milky liquid with a pungent odor. Kava root is a mild intoxicant, and the preparation and imbibing of the liquid involves a ceremony that involves clapping and the shouting of "Bula". If you go to Fiji, see the ceremony but don't drink the Kava, unless you like the taste of dishwater and feeling your mouth and throat go numb.

A very thin man with a toothache picked us up for the cruise at 8:30 AM. We climbed into a twenty something year old station wagon with a grinding stick shift. Our route took over bumpy dirt road, and when the road stopped, he drove out onto a beach, to get to the next dirt road and another guest pickup. Once we were all packed in, he headed for the port of Denarau, where we would board our Captain Cook cruise.

Port of Denaurau is a mixture of wealth inside and abject poverty outside it's gated entrance. The hub is a newly erected shopping center, near the wharf, featuring expensive clothing shops and anchored by a huge Hard Rock Cafe. Our boat was the Nadi 1. It was not the catamaran promised in the brochure, which, we were told, could not navigate the too shallow channel at low tide. The Nadi 1 was a bit delapidated, but a sturdy vessel capable of getting us to our destination, Mystery Island. The boat crew was charming and soon won over the multinational group of about 20 passengere with Fijian renditions of old standards. Punctuated with guitar, ukelele and frequently shouted "Bulas" the quartet (sometimes more, sometimes less) played such favorites as "My Bonnie", "Home on the Range" as well as some tunes for the Aussies, Brits and Germans aboard. There were some Elvis tunes as well.

After about an hour (We are on Fijian time now) we arrive at the island but it's low tide and the taxi can't get very close to shore. We all hop out and wade about 100 ft through bathtub warm, calf deep blue Pacific to reach the golden beach.
Mystery Island is small, (you can walk around the island in seven minutes, I did) with a very nice sandy beach and nearby coral areas for great snorkeling. The guests sprinkled themselves about the island for their day in tropical paradise. Dianne and I laid our mat under a shady palm tree where we could look out to the deep blue ocean. Meanwhile the crew got busy opening the bar and preparing for the BBQ feast to come. We had frequent visits by some local flightless birds which looked like small Wekas, that had a similar interest in our snack foods.

The BBQ was filling and fortunately had lots of veggies for Dianne. We were frequently encouraged to get more food and drink more beer, perhaps not the best thing to do if you planned to snorkel after lunch. Our crew entertained with more hits from the nineteenth century and soon everybody was "bula-ing" everyone else. It was a really nice day except for some problems I had when snorkeling with too small fins and an ill-fitting mask. I am told that the coral was really beautiful, I can't give a first hand account as I was too busy flailing about and swallowing sea water.

At about 3PM, we get back on our ship for the lazy ride back. On the way, we are treated to a demonstration of basket weaving from the coconut palm frond. Next we are shown how to strip the husk from a coconut using only a pointed stick and bare (but very strong) hands. Then the coconut is opened by Natt, the crewman, with a bare handed blow. This is only accomplished after a mind meld with some passengers which gives Natt "The Power" to open the coconut. Very impressive.

Once back at Port Denarau, we search, with some others, for our ride back. It turns out Natt is headed our way and he leads us to our van. As we are rolling out, we hear some shouting, as the van door slides open to allow four more Fijians aboard. The van now with twelve of us, bounces along now familiar dirt roads. We soon come to the same beach detour, only now it's high tide. No problem, after a quick survey, the driver drives through the surf, around some people fishing (they wave and shout Bula") then back onto the beach and the connection back to the main dirt road. The ride through Fiji countryside was an adventure, but we were very glad to get back to the hotel.

The evening entertainment at Smuggler's Cove is a traveling dance troupe from the island of Tuva. They will be performing traditional Micronesian dances including the "Sword Dance" and the "Fire Dance". It's all quite exciting, altho some of the crowd appears drunk and not willing to shout their "Bulas" of encouragement for the dancers. The sword dance passes without causing major injury, altho we notice one of the dancers has a heavily bandaged hand. Things get interesting with the first fire dancer, a slight young man, who appears to get a cinder in his eye early in the performance, and does much of his routine with squinting watery eyes. There are some drops of the baton and bits of smelly burning kerosene littered about the sand. After that one husky fire dancer follows another, each trying to outdo with higher throws, faster twirling. Many will light their torch from bits of flame placed in their mouth or on various body parts. Dianne is cringing, I am quickly reviewing first aid for major burns. The crowd is now definitely drunk, but getting into the action, We leave quickly when there is a call for volunteers to learn some dance moves.