A Classic Native Village
Tuesday, October 18th – Today we are headed to Kia Island. It has been highly recommended by several friends, but The Captain is not looking forward to the trip there, for it will require motoring down a long passage which winds like a river through an inside reef. It is not well charted and is sure to be poorly marked. We have experienced a lot of murky water inside the reefs recently. The weather is overcast with light rain as we depart Labasa, so visibility beneath the surface of the water is extremely limited. Sounds like ideal conditions for running aground!
We depart the port of Labasa and head back out the main channel to the bay. This may be the “deep water port for Labasa,” but Avante was the only boat here in the last two days other than small Fijian fishing boats.
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To our relief, it turns out to be an easy trip. By the time we reach the passage entrance on the other side of the bay, the skies have cleared. The water is less murky. Visibility is good enough, and the passage is deep and easy to follow as we head out to Kia Island.
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According to our friends from Solstice, Kia will be a neat place with good people. From the distance, it does look pretty. Our guide books tell us that there are 3 small villages on the island. We anchor in front of the village on the southwest corner of the island where we will have the best protection from the wind. Shortly afterwards, a fishing boat on its return to the village stops by Avante to welcome us to their island and to invite us ashore.
Soon the dinghy is launched, and we are headed ashore with our bundle of kava. This will be our first Sevusevu experience. A long sweeping expanse of beach is before us with the village itself visible just beyond in the shade of the trees. People are out and about which is good to see. Nobody has yet to establish eye contact with us, but it is obvious that they are aware of our approach. A small group sitting on a log watch us walk up the beach. We smile. We wave. They do the same. That’s always a relief! An attractive woman walks out to us from the village. She is poised and has an air of command about her. This is not the first time she has greeted strangers on her shore. Her English is good, and we talk a little there on the beach. Then she tells us to follow her. She will take us to the village chief. We had expected an old man but are greeted by a good-looking man who appeared to be in his 40’s. A large woven mat is spread out on a shady patch of ground. Several other villagers soon show up, and we are all invited to sit down. We remove our hats and sunglasses, as these are considered disrespectful. We had read that men are supposed to sit with their legs crossed and that women are to sit with their legs folded together under them with their toes pointing away from the center. That does not seem to be the case here. Everyone sits whichever way is comfortable. When all appear to be ready, The Captain tells them that we have sailed from America and that we would like to visit their island for a few days. He then offers our bundle of kava roots to the chief. The chief nods acceptance and then commences a chant which the villagers follow with rhythmic claps at appropriate places. No one is in a hurry to leave when the ceremony concludes. We sit and talk. The spoken English of the woman and the chief is enough for us to understand and for them to understand us. They in turn interpret what is said to the others around the mat.
We learn that this is a substantial village and that the 3 villages on the island are interconnected. There’s a path that goes over the mountain to one village and another path that leads along the coast to the third village. The village we are in has the school which children attend from the age of 4 or 5. As English is an official language of the country, it is taught right from the start of school. This school only goes to grade 8. If a child desires to go on, they are sent to live with family in Labasa where there is a regional high school. Their school is at the far end of the village. From the distance, it looks well-maintained with a large playground for outdoor activities. School is in session right now which explains why all we see are babies and toddlers.
As we are all preparing to leave, a man named Save (Sah Vā) invites us to his home for tea, and we gladly accept. We sit outside under a lean-to porch on hand-woven mats. We converse as Loki, his wife, prepares tea. Does she join us? No. She remains inside the hut/house. Only Save is with us, and we are the only ones served the tea and cookies. A young child strolls up, and I am happy to be able to offer the child a cookie. It feels strange to be invited to partake of refreshment and then end up being the only ones served. This is truly an example of being the “guest of honor”, but by our customs, it is not a totally comfortable one. We appreciate, though, what the friendship and hospitality they are offering means; yet in these circumstances, it is so very hard to know what is expected and what is the correct thing to do. We just try our best, trying to be as intuitively responsive as possible.
Save’s English is quite good, and we learn from him that he had once himself been the chief. It is his son now who is the chief. We mention that we were surprised to find a chief as young as their present chief. The First Mate had assumed that the status of chief was hereditary or, if not that, once appointed, the position was for life. Wrong to assume. The position of chief is a 3-year elected position. At least that is how it goes in this village and, we later learn, in many others. The chiefly position rotates within the community.
This village appears to be doing quite well in comparison to other villages we have seen here in Fiji and on other islands. They have a working generator that provides electricity. Working is the key word here. Gasoline generators are common in these small villages. Ones that still run are much less common. Mechanical skills are not readily found on these small islands, and many generators have died an early death due to total lack of maintenance. The village also has many water tanks to provide running water. We even see a few radios and cell phones. They produce just about everything they need to eat or have it abundantly available growing wild, and fishing not only provides them food, it also provides them a means of income, as they sell the fish in Labasa. — All in all, not a bad lifestyle, not a whole lot of pressure and not a whole lot to do. Lazy island days.
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We tell Save that we had read that a canon had been carried up to the top of their mountain in the 1800’s. Our guide book says that there is a trail up to the top of the mountain, and we would like to hike there tomorrow. He tells us that our friends, Angela and Doug, had done this hike, and if we want, we can do it, too. He will get us a guide. We take our leave and tell him that we will see him tomorrow morning. Walking back to the beach, Avante looks serene and peaceful out there on the bay.
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Wendesday, October 19th – The next morning we head to shore prepared for our hike. It seems like the same group of people are still sitting on the log watching the day go by as we approach.
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The islanders across the Pacific are constantly criticized as lazy and not having a good work ethic. The First Mate does not quite think that is the case. She sees their ability to sit on a log on a beach for hours on end as kind of a Darwinian adaptation to their environment. There honestly is not a lot of daily work they have to do. Crops need planting and tending, but that need not be done on a daily basis nor by everyone in the village. Reef fish are abundant, and the occasional foray beyond the reef for the bigger fish offers them a change of diet as well as needed cash to buy the few things they do need. They are not rich, but they are not poor either — as long as their wants and desires stay few. Housing is minimal. Heating and air-conditioning unneeded. Clothing is sparse. Shoes more of a bother. There are no books, newspapers or magazines to read. There’s no need, pressing or otherwise, to keep up with the world’s events. There are so few toys around that The First Mate wonders how the children amuse themselves, but maybe that is the idea. They learn from an early age to sit on a log and be content with little or nothing to do. She thinks it must all depend on one’s expectations in life. These islanders are not lazy or stupid or any of a number of other negatives she has heard applied to them. They have just learned over a millennium of generations of island life to want, expect and need less, to be happy and content sitting on a log and, when that fails, to take a nap. That kind of learning takes a long time to breed into the genes.
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Darwin’s Finches are able to alter their beaks’ shape in one generation in response to environmental changes, but human genes take a good many more generations than that. She thinks she understands these people, and besides what’s wrong with a nap under a papaya tree ladened with ripe fruit just waiting your next meal when you wake up?
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We pull the dinghy up onto the beach and walk into the village to find Save to ask him where the trail starts up to the top of the mountain. He tells us that one of the young men will be our guide. We at first decline, attempting to explain to him that we are good at mountains and good at following trails, but when he insists, we accept. A good-looking, athletic young man named Ben is going to show us the way up and off we go. Initially, we pass little garden plots where mostly root vegetables are planted. Ben shows us the underground holes covered with rocks where they store these root vegetables.
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Papaya, lime, and breadfruit trees are abundant on the lower reaches of the mountain and so are many beautiful pineapple bushes.
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Except for the lack of apple trees and snakes, it feels like a Garden of Eden, but as we climb on up, we move into dense foliage. We have left tropical lushness and entered jungle bush, and now we are glad that we have Ben with us. The trail withers away once we leave the garden patches, and it soon becomes obvious that it is only the occasional crazy cruiser who climbs to the top of the mountain these days. The log, remember that log? That’s the place to spend the day. Not on some hike to the top of nowhere!
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Occasionally, we round a bend and are rewarded with a view down and out across the water. All the shades of blue an ocean can take are seen below us, and there’s Avante serenely at anchor.
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Ben poses for us standing by the old canon. The canon is there, but it’s wooden braces are long gone.
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From the mountain top, we can see down into the village and are impressed by the expanse of it. Nestled as it is among the trees, it is hard to get a feel for the size of the place. The school and cleared play fields are at the upper middle of the photo. The protecting reef and the pass through it are also visible just below the horizon.
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We ask Ben if there is a trail leading down into one of the other villages so we could return that way rather than retracing our steps. He says that there is, but it has been a number of years since he last took it. He’s sure he can find it, though, if we want. Yes, we want, and off we go through high, thick grass following a narrow, rutted cut that looks more like a drainage ditch than any kind of trail. The First Mate looks down into the dense forest of trees that they must descend into and thinks Tarzan belongs here, not her! But what goes up, must go down. On she goes.
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The other side of the mountain offers its own staggeringly beautiful view of the ocean.
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Ben stops above a group of large trees and points to strange growths hanging off the branches. They are not growths. They’re fruit bats, and he startles them all into flight with a well-thrown rock. The First Mate looks at the bats, but more so she looks at the village away down below them. How are they ever going to get down through all this mess, and by the way, aren’t we at the edge of a cliff? Ben heads off in one direction, but we soon must double back.
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The way ahead is too steep. The First Mate doesn’t see anything that isn’t sheer or steep. We trudge along the edge of the cliff until we come to a ravine of sorts. “This is the way,” Ben announces. We have got to get down this thing so off we go. It’s a slippery slide over loose rock and through vines, bushes, and long grass, grabbing onto branches to break our falls. Look at Ben’s face. The First Mate is sure he is wondering how in the world he got stuck with this old lady! He’ll have something to talk about on his log this evening!
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Hot and exhausted, we finally reach the bottom. Looking back up, it is hard to imagine how we ever got up there and impossible to imagine how we ever got down.
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We follow the trail along the water front back to our village. It is pleasant to be walking along in the shade and into the ocean breeze after the hot trek on the mountain. We are both looking forward to a swim in the ocean once we return to Avante, but we are also very glad we went on this hike. Not having those island genes, we were in fidgety need of a little exercise!
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We greet the villagers when we return and sit for a while to talk to them, but we really are eager to get back to Avante for that swim and for lunch. Ben had mentioned to The Captain that the seal around the cover of his outboard was not good. Did we possibly have something that would help? The Captain thinks he does. After dropping The First Mate at the boat, he returns with some adhesive tape for Ben.
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A while passes. Where is The Captain? The First Mate steps on deck to scan toward the village. To her dismay, she sees him R-O-W-I-N-G! True to form, The Dingbat had quit. What an intolerable mess we are in with this thing! It’s a never-ending story as The Captain prepares to take apart and clean another water molecule clogged carburetor.
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The chief had asked us if he could visit with us on Avante. He very much wanted to show the boat to his children and his wife. We said that we would pick him and his family up that afternoon. The Dingbat worked. The Captain got them out to the boat where we had a nice visit over juice and cookies.
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The little ones are getting restless. We help everybody back into The Dingbat and with fingers crossed, The Captain heads off to shore. What a relief! Family dropped off safely, and The Captain back on Avante in time for dinner!
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Thursday, October 20th – We are leaving today for the Yasawa Islands at the western end of Fiji. It requires an overnight passage where we will head outside the Great Sea Reef protecting the northern shore of Vanua Levu. The nice thing is that we do not have to leave until noon. Any earlier than that would only have us cooling our heels outside the barrier reef awaiting daylight so we can see to enter. We have time to take the dinghy ashore and say goodbye to our village friends and tell them how much we like their village and enjoyed our visit with them.
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What we did not know at the time was how special this village and our visit to it was. We later came to realize that Kia Island offered us a glimpse at a classic native village. Though the people would be called subsistence fishermen, their enjoyment of life is above that of mere subsistence. Kia Island is remote enough that the people have been able to retain many of their traditional ways. In real estate marketing, location is prime. The 3 villages on this island have that magic ingredient. Isolated, but not quite. They are close enough to Labasa so that their sale of fish provides them with food items and goods they cannot make or grow themselves, but they are far enough away to not be influenced by city life or the tourist industry of Fiji. Each village is independent, but not totally. Not large enough to offer much on their own, combined they are able to have a school and school program to be proud of in one village, a church in another and medical facilities in the third.
The villages we will next visit in the popular Yasawa Islands offered us the contrast. Kia Island receives maybe 12 cruising boats a year. Compared to the number of yachts cruising and visiting the Yasawa Islands, that is a very small number. Each visiting cruiser to Kia, therefore, is unique and special. They want to take the time to enjoy them, as was done when we continued to sit around the Sevusevu ceremonial mat and tried to get to know each other more. They wanted to know about us as much as we wanted to know about them. Though people in other villages were always pleasant and polite, we never again had the welcome that we experienced here on Kia Island.