Cleone - in Fiji - Part 3, Musket Cove and En Route

 

We have already been to several wonderful countries in the South Pacific, and recommend all of them to you.  So how do you choose which one is for you - they are all unique and all have been special?  For us, though, it's easy.  Fiji wins.  Not by much to be sure, but it's in there ahead of the Marquesas, just ahead of the Tuamotus (though neither would be easy to pass by) and ahead of the Galapagos and Tonga by a wider margin.  But I need to cover the rest of our time in Fiji before I explain my conclusions.

 

We left Makogai in good time, arriving at the gap in the reef just after the sun showed itself over the hill behind us and illuminated the breaking seas on both sides of the reef.  It was a lovely sunny day, and a great sail to the north-west, keeping a careful eye on the reef to our starboard side.  There was a decent breeze and the waves were breaking gently as they reached the reef.  In the bright sunshine of a Fiji day it was easy enough to keep clear of them, but the large isolated lump of coral that lay directly in our track was more difficult to spot.  Once we had avoided it, we soon reached the reef off-lying Viti Levu, the main Fiji island on which lie Suva, the capital, and Lautoka, the old capital and the industrial centre of the island group.  The latter was our next destination.  But skirting the reefs or navigating the torturous, protected route that lies inside the reef are only tackled by night by the very bold or those with good local knowledge.  Such navigational marks as are shown on the charts are often long missing, and those which are there mostly no longer have their lights.  To make matters more interesting, those boats with electronic charts and chart plotters often find that their plotters position them well on shore.  So we entered the reef through a narrow twisting passage (against the Skippers instincts, trusting to the GPS waypoints supplied by Curly's Charts - there was nothing else to go on apart from Will's extra-sharp eyesight), and we spent the night securely anchored in a bay on the west coast of Nananu-i-ra Island.  Needless to say, in the holiday resort there, there was a small shop, an open and welcoming bar in which good burgers were available.  Together with friends from Quasar, Jus'doit and Andante we enjoyed another riotous evening, in an atmosphere entirely removed from that of nearby Makogai.

 

Early next moring, as soon as the sun was up, we threaded our way out through the passage to make best use of the cracking southerly breeze.  For several miles it kept up, and we kept pace with Quasar, who with Malcolm and Lindsey alternatively up the mast to spot coral heads and shallow patches, was motoring through the inner passage.  But very suddenly the breeze died to nothing, and we had to motor through a hole in the wind.  We could not afford to dilly-dally - before we reached Lautoka we had to enter the reef again, and to avoid large overtime payments, we needed to clear into Lautoka before four-thirty in the afternoon (why clear in again, you ask, when you had  already cleared in at Savusavu?  Well, we never found the answer to that question either.  You just go with the flow here, and deal with the bureaucracy as you find it).  So it was on with the engine, through the wind-hole, and soon we were rattling along again under all plain sail back in the breeze a couple of miles later.  It was by now just getting towards lunch-time.  The Skipper was at the wheel.  Looking ahead (he does that sometimes) he spotted what looked like a rock awash, and not far in front of the boat.  But before he could wrench the wheel to avoid it, he realised it was moving.  It was a hump-backed whale, our very first, and a large one.  He made his way sedately across our bows, turned to swim down the length of the boat before blowing just behind us, and then he sounded - his huge T-shaped tail coming right out of the water.  Unless you have seen one of these monsters, it's impossible to grasp the scale of them - they are huge.  We had no time to get cameras, and we were all just stunned by the majesty of the event.  His head was under water, and he glided past us purposefully and remarkably quickly.  Such powerful beasts cannot be treated lightly, and it made me wonder how the whalers of the past managed to harpoon and subdue them in their open dinghies before dragging them back to their mother ships, which by modern standards were themselves only smallish sailing vessels.  After that, the rest of the trip to Lautoka was pretty mundane, even the complicated and beautiful passage through the reefs. 

 

We were in Lautoko in time to clear Customs, but by that time it was dark.  So we stayed there at anchor that night, admiring the mega-yacht Squall.  This (also huge) beast is manned by a crew of eight, six to keep watch, an engineer and a cook.  She'd spent 2 months cruising in Fiji, and by Christmas would only be in Bali, so clearly she does a lot of hanging around, and probably not as much sailing as her crew might like.  But we all reckoned they must be pretty good at polishing - she was immaculate.  We upped anchor as soon as it was dawn; the huge chimney (which we had been warned about) was already spewing black soot all over Cleone's decks.  The local authorities must be in a dilemma; the emissions cannot be acceptable, yet closing the sugar processing plant would probably put half the town out of work.  But we made our escape quickly, sailing south down the coast to get fuel at Denarau Marina, where it seemed half the World ARC boats were moored.  Moving quickly on, again wanting to avoid unlit passages through the reefs, we sped on across the bay to Musket Cove, the final rendezvous for the Rally in Fiji. 

 

We had not been in a proper marina since Papeete, so many weeks ago that none of us could count.  It was surprisingly nice to be able to step ashore and visit the spotless showers and loos, to wander along the sandy beaches of the resort, to visit the restaurant or the welcoming bar and constantly a lit barbecue just behind our boat.  There was a diving school for the Skipper and Elizabeth, who spent a very happy day deep amongst the coral reefs admiring the fishes, the bar for Chris and Will (and everyone else, actually), a small but surprisingly well-stocked supermarket, a fuel dock and excellent stern-to berths.  And best of all were the staff.  The usual Fijian friendliness and helpfullness was complimented by amazing efficiency.  Thanks to the combined efforts of Rosie, Allspars, and Judy from the Musket Cove staff, Cleone's new Dyform shrouds were waiting in the office, and thereafter for us and all the other World ARC boats nothing was too much trouble.  It's said to be a yachtsman's Mecca, and I can only endorse that.  And to cap it all, they waived the marina charges for three of our four nights.  Well, you can imagine how we spent our days.  The World ARC entertainment programme - parties every night we were there (except the first, so we had our own) - made the days of unremitting toil even harder.  We fitted Cleone's new shrouds (the Skipper, bless him, needed to be winched up the main-mast 4 times to accomplish this), marked the anchor chain, serviced the engine and the outboard motor, cleaned Cleone from top to toe, mended the chart table light (but then the galley light died, drat it) did the laundry and even showered and shaved ourselves.  We felt like new men and women!

 

So, why Fiji?  Well, the other contenders are equally beautiful.  All the people are welcoming and friendly.  The Glapagos is stunning, but over touristed.  French Polynesia is outrageously expensive.  Tonga came close, but maybe we caught it at the wrong time.  But Fiji has everything.  Remote islands, fascinating villages, stunning scenery (Scotland warmed up, the Skipper called it) and when you want or need it, there is every technical support available.  This makes for a fantastic cruising area, particularly as the islands are just the right distance apart for some great day sailing, with many interesting passages to challenge the enthusiastic navigator.  All this adds up to a lot, but the real thing is the people.  They are dignified, love visitors, are always outstandingly polite and helpful, and never without a smile and a greeting.  For us Brits, it's even better.  They are proud of their colonial antecedents, rather than embarrassed or ashamed or wanting to disown them  They are proud that 7000 Fijians serve in the British Army.  And despite the coups and troubles, they are proud that the Queen is their head of state, and that her face is on every coin.

 

We are very sorry to have to leave, but Vanuatu awaits.  But you should get down to the travel agent soon; you can't miss Fiji.