We arrived into Fiji just before the weekend and it took five days for us to get our Fijian cruising permit, five hot days where the boat was not allowed to leave the mooring in Savusavu. There was no wind, and although the town is nice enough, we were ready to leave when the permit came through. Savusavu is very sheltered, and when there is little wind it gets oppressively hot – the kind of heat that envelops you, sits heavily on your chest and flattens you into gasping, weary submission.
So, the moment the cruising permit comes through we are off, heading for Taveuni, the Garden Island east of Vanua Levu, where we know there is diving and kitesurfing and clean waterfalls.
After just a short trip across the ripping Somosomo Strait Taveuni appears: steep hills clad in dense vegetation, sharp peaks covered in mist, coconut palms lining the coast. A lush green jagged outline, appearing moist and cool to our overheated eyes.
We visit Paradise, a yacht-friendly resort with mooring buoys conveniently located just off their well-manicured gardens. The moorings are crowded with other yachts, all fast boats that are doing the ARC around the world rally and have just arrived from Tonga via the Lau Group.
They have been moving at breakneck speed – around the world in 16 months, stopping a few spots in each country, checking through customs in large groups, all organised by the rally. Normally, you have to clear into Fiji on the mainland (the large islands Viti Levu or Vanua Levu) but rallies like these gain permissions to clear in at the Lau Group so they don’t have to go back down against the wind to reach there like we will have to.
Only larger boats can make the tight round-the-world rally timeframe, and most of the boats in the anchorage are worth a great deal, their owners perma-tanned top achievers out to tick off a global circumnavigation, the kind of people who ‘do’ countries rather than visit them. They have had several expensive yachts run aground when trying to enter the notoriously poorly charted Pacific reefs in less than optimal light, and we chat for a while and get some waypoints for where they smashed into reefs around the Lau Group, the place we’re headed to next
After one night in Paradise, we continue our way north along Taveuni’s west coast, stopping for a couple of nights a couple of miles north, and then onwards until we finally reach a cooling breeze when we get to Matei at the top end of the island. Here, the hilly island no longer shelters us from the fresh tradewinds, and we enjoy a steady breeze, perfect for kitesurfing, and clear waters with great coral, perfect for snorkelling and diving.
Located right on the dateline, Taveuni is full of inland wonders too – jungles, waterfalls and verdant bush, light rain showers, fragrant flowers, strange frogs croaking, and colourful birds calling. We visit a natural waterslide where we zip down the shallow-gradient section of a waterfall, zooming over the slippery smooth rocks, pushed along by a torrent of clear, cool fresh water. The kids go, again and again, wearing the bottoms of their shorts thin, yelling and whooping as they whizz past, screaming as they land in the deep pool at the end.
80% of the surface area of the island is a forest sanctuary, set up by foresightful locals deciding to bank on ecotourism rather than logging. The steep hills make for wonderful waterfalls, and we are amazed at the lush bush bordering the clear waterways, heavy epiphytes dripping off trees and fragrant flowers lining the walkways, making the jungle look like a soft green padded mattress with colourful dots from afar.
The downside to the lush natural beauty of Taveuni is endless stinging critters: mozzies, jellyfish, even famously poisonous plants, which leave us itchy and raw, covered in inflamed pink spots. The deep coastal waters near Paradise where we initially jump off the boat are like jellyfish soup, tiny little stingers that launch vicious attacks on any skin not covered by clothing. The stings swell up and itch for days, hurting so bad that Matias starts snorkelling in jeans, and I resort to a full-length, luminous turquoise lycra suit, a disco-queen remnant from the 1990s which only comes out of the cupboard in absolute emergencies. As I glide over the reef in my turquoise splendour, tiny striped cleaner wrasse stare at me in stunned silence before they timidly come up for a nibble, perhaps mistaking me for a mutant whale, and I can just imagine their conversation:
Baby cleaner wrasse: “Wow, Daddy, what is that? I’ve never quite seen one like that before. It’s huge and shining!! So blue!!! What is it?!?”
Daddy wrasse, looking up at large looming turquoise shape outlined sharply against the water surface. “I don’t know, Son. Never seen the like of it. Very shiny indeed. I’ll tell you what, though, whatever it is it’ll need cleaning. So, go on, do your thing, wriggle up, do the dance, and start nibbling!”
Not wanting to hurt their feelings or delicate skin, I gently wave the tiny wrasse aside, blowing out my snorkel, splashing my fins, trying to signal that I’m on the move and don’t want a clean, and the little fish rush back down to attack a patiently waiting parrotfish which looks annoyed at having its staff distracted by cheap bling.
But all good things must come to an end. Taveuni, our first destination in Fiji, has been a beautiful place to visit, a vivid green jungle island fringed by colourful reefs.
Tomorrow, we’re off for the remote Lau Group in the south. We saw some of the islands from afar as we came up from New Zealand but weren’t allowed to visit until we’d cleared in with the Fijian Customs. It’s meant to be an amazing place, full of deserted islands, far-flung villages devoid of tourists, clear waters off the beaten track. There will be no provisions to be had down there other than the odd coconut, and no phone reception or internet, but plenty of visiting with village Fijians, snorkelling, kitesurfing and playing on beaches. We’ve been wanting to go for years and are looking forward to seeing it.
SV Bob The Cat 