Download PDF - Oyster News 66 - Oyster Yachts

We were first to arrive in the small quiet
anchorage but not long after, a second boat
then a third and by the following day we
had the lime green Awesome party cruiser
as a very close neighbor as well as the
cruise ship, Spirit of Yasawa. The clipper
ship, Spirit of the Pacific was anchored on
the far side of one of the passes and as it
regularly drove by in close proximity cutting
between us and the Awesome, passengers
leaned over the side shouting their friendly
bulas. I made note that if they came any
closer, we should get to know their names.
There was a back packers resort located
nearby where we attempted to send a fax
home and although the fax never got away,
the people were so very friendly and tried
repeatedly to solve our dilemma. As I sat on
the beach waiting for Mike by the dinghy,
I was joined by an employee who came to
wait for new resort arrivals. She had a name
tattooed on her hand that a friend had
punched out with a sewing needle.
We moved the boat again in search of
another resort called ‘Octopus’ that we
had learned from other cruisers was worth
a stop. The only information we had was
that it was located somewhere on the
North West corner of Waya Island and we
headed the boat in that direction although
our electronic charts were pretty useless.
Once we arrived, the manager of the
Octopus invited us to make use of all the
resort amenities while anchored off his
shore, swimming pool, beach volley ball,
and happy hour each evening. A Fijian
lovo feast was being prepared for that
evening and a seafood buffet the following
night. It sounded like we might never want
to leave. But that very night, our first
night, the swell came into the open
anchorage and rocked us like Ray Charles
standing on stage singing, "What I’d Say".
The next morning we dragged ourselves
away from what could have been a very
nice retreat and headed for another bay.
When we arrived at our new location we
dropped anchor between two islands off
the southern shore of Waysasewa Island.
There was one other boat in the spacious
bay but it left the following morning just
after the roosters from all three villages
cock-a-doodle-dooed their way into
daylight. Each morning vibrated with
rooster mania in surround sound but it
was actually the beating drums from one
of the villages that woke me, or was it
the church bells from the other village?
I expect the beating drums woke the
roosters or maybe it was the squealing
pigs being tormented by the dogs, but it
was all before the first light of day break.
We dinghied ashore that morning to visit
the village of Namara where we were met
by a child of about three who did not
hesitate to help drag our boat onto the
beach. Dry brown kava roots poked out
from the newspaper wrapped bundle in my
back pack like a dehydrated bouquet of
flowers. The island chief was away on other
important matters and the daughter of the
acting chief invited us into their home.
Mike lay the kava at his feet and we sat on
the coconut mat in front of him while he
ran through the traditional welcome
dialogue. We were thankful he skipped the
part about sharing the kava root with us.
We spent four nights anchored off the
island; we toured the boarding school
where approximately 70 children, most
from neighbouring islands attend grades
one to eight. Parents of the boarding
children pay two dollars per semester per
child and pay for the pickup and drop off of
the children by local boats on weekends.
The children of various ages slept in a two
room brightly painted dormitory, one room
for boys and a separate one for girls. If they
had diesel for their generator, lights stayed
on until 8pm.
The weekly rugby match was to take place
across the bay in another village. Although
Anita, the kindergarten teacher had a fear
of drowning, she requested that we take
her and her two children to the match. She
had never been across the bay before and
I guess felt safer in our dinghy than in the
small village long boat that over flowed with
twelve rugby players and a few local fans.
The following day, we pulled our dinghy
away from the village shore for the last
time. A young boy whom I had not met
before was standing knee deep in water
helping a fisherman shove his long boat
out to sea. Asking my name, he stretched
his hand towards me and presented me
with a small beautiful highly polished shell.
"Here, you can have this, he said with a
smile". Eeli and I knew each other for no
more than sixty seconds and yet I shall
never forget his friendship or the unselfish
kindness of the Fijians.
FAR LEFT: Village children lend a helping hand, Namara
FAR RIGHT: The Volcanic Yaswaras’ islands
ABOVE: Namari school children
OWNER REPORT
www.oystermarine.com 51