Adopted in Fulanga
There are many islands in the Lau Group, and we are told that the island of Fulanga with a large central lagoon is a real South Pacific paradise and just as beautiful as the Bay of Islands. There are several villages on Fulanga, and one of them has taken the lead in offering hospitality to visiting cruisers. Families in the village take turns “adopting” each boat and its occupants. Though Fijian villages are not supposed to levy anchorage fees, somehow this village has gotten around it by requesting a “donation” from every boat that enters their extensive lagoon area. In return, a family hosts you for your stay. That involves sharing time with you and a give and take of meals or activities. It sounds like a delightful way of really getting to know at least one village family, and though a bit apprehensive, the crew of Avante are looking forward to this unique experience.
The best time to do the passage to Fulanga is when the winds shift from the normal southeast trade winds to the northeast. That would have the wind on the beam for most of the way giving us a good sail. We had been watching the forecasts, and if we leave now, we should have winds from the east for the first part of the trip. Unfortunately, we do not have a big enough window, for the winds are forecast to clock back to southeast meaning we might have to motor into them for the last third of the trip. However, the next favorable opportunity to leave is five days out. With all the boats here and surfeited with visiting and exploration, it’s time to go.
Thursday, June 14th – An overnight passage is needed to sail the 120 nm to Fulanga whose reef passage is dicey and must be entered with good daylight, preferably at slack tide. Timing that is an issue, and the last thing one wants is to arrive outside the reef and have to wait hours for the right conditions. Kim and Zim aboard s/v Someday, one of the boats leaving the ARC here in Fiji, plan to leave for Fulanga the same morning that we are, so we decide to go together. As we close in on them, we take photos of Someday in the distance.
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As the distance shortens between the 2 boats, they are able to take a photo of Avante. Under sail, she is! It is the first photo we have of Avante out on the ocean under sail.
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As expected, we sail on a hard port tack for most of the afternoon and into the evening. The wind begins to shift back to the southeast around sunset, and we have to alter our course a little to the right.
Friday, June 15th – 0100 – The preferred route to Fulanga is through the Fulanga Channel which heads directly southeast from our current position, directly into the wind. We want to sail as much as possible to conserve fuel for the next few weeks, so we decide to keep sailing south, going to the west of several islands.
0610 – We tack to the east and head for the north coast of Fulanga. Wind is up to 17 – 19 kts, and the seas are much rougher. Sailing is no longer quiet and peaceful. Adding to the chaos of the now heavy seas, the big, clanging, ear-splitting bilge alarm goes off as we tack. What’s wrong? The Captain does a quick check. Nothing is seen. The alarm, just as suddenly and for no reason, stops. Gremlins at work again. On we charge.
1030 – The waters outside the passage into the lagoon are turbulent. As we near the passage, we can see the gorgeous blue calm waters of the lagoon inside and can’t wait to be anchored there safely.
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Ah-h-h — peacefully at anchor. Look at that blue water, and just like the Bay of Islands, we are surrounded by mushroom-shaped islets!
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Saturday, June 16th – Margy and Monty on s/v Whistler had told us when we were together in the Bay of Islands that they had met a man who knows Bill from his aerospace days. We are told to look out for Chuck & Annie Johnson on s/v Exit Strategy. They are down in Fulanga. Bill does not recognize the name and is eager to find out who this person is.
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We set off in the morning for Exit Strategy stopping by to visit with Kim and Zim on Someday. In every direction we look, mushroom-shaped islets sprout out of the calm azure water. Exit Strategy is anchored off the broad sand spit on the other side of the lagoon. We motor on over to meet them. During his business career, Chuck Johnson worked for Moog and went by Warren Johnson. Ten years junior to Bill, he knew Bill mostly by reputation, though he did briefly encounter Bill when his company was looking at the possibility of buying Bill’s company. Warren, now Chuck, had progressed nicely with his company, and Exit Strategy was part of his leave taking. Warren is one of those lucky individuals who develops a beautiful deep tan just “walking from his front door to the mailbox at the end of the driveway” as Annie, his wife, miffed. Back in historically grey-skied Buffalo, New York, there was little chance of that. Warren was a white man in a business tie and jacket. Chuck, now out in the sun on the islands, has tanned as dark as the natives and also sports one of the most tastefully done upper body tattoos we have ever seen. He is still on the boards of several companies, and when he goes stateside, though there is nothing he can do to lessen the tan, the tattoos all end below the collar line. Chuckle he may at the image, he passes muster at business board meetings. While Chuck and Bill exchange war stories for about 2 hours, Annie and Sue get acquainted, discuss our families and lives with these two men and relax while we calmly wait for the two males to finish.
We learn that the Johnsons have been here for a week already. They tell us about their very positive experiences with their host family. Yes, we will enjoy it. Heading back to our boat, we stop by Someday to see what their plans are for going up to the village. We all decide to visit tomorrow, Sunday afternoon, well after church services, but those plans are quickly changed when a long boat approaches with the village coordinator on board. We cannot wait until tomorrow. That is Sunday. No, Sunday is not a good day. We must go up to the village today.
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Since this is their lagoon, we comply. We return to Avante and, shortly after, are following Someday into an inner bay where several boats are already at anchor.
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With Kim and Zim, we dinghy ashore squishing through the soft mud of low tide as we drag our dinghies up onto dry land. We are both dressed in village-appropriate wear: The Captain in a nice shirt and long pants and The First Mate wearing a top with sleeves and a sarong skirt. The Captain carries our bundle of Kava for the welcoming Sevusevu ceremony. A group of young men out collecting coconuts walks with us up and over the hill to the village. Their English is quite good, and the walk proves very informative.
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A pleasant village scene opens before us. Simple one or two-room homes with multi-colored corrugated metal roofs liven the area. All is neat, clean and quiet. Whenever we have been in Fijian villages, we are always amazed at how quiet it is. A village full of people, and it is hard to see a soul!
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Walking by one home, a young child waves to us from behind a brightly colored line of fabric. Another child looks back at us as she carries a baby inside the hut.
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We are taken to the Chief’s ceremonial hut where Kim and Zim are introduced to their family and we to ours. It turns out that we are now part of the Chief’s family, a great honor, except that we will not get to meet the Chief. He is an old man who is sadly very close to dying. The First Mate wonders that since we are now a small part of the Chief’s family, what would be expected of us if this poor man were to die today? In ancient Tonga, such sorrow could only be expressed by lobbing off a finger tip. Other ancient cultures feature hair tearing and body scarring. What did they do here in Fiji? Being at present strongly rooted in the Christian faith, it is probably days and days of church services. Could we just sail away? Oh, dear. Please don’t die anytime soon, poor man!
Thus, instead of meeting the Chief, we are greeted by his grandson, Bill, a very congenial young man. He ushers us into the Chief’s meeting room where we sit down on a large mat woven of dried Pandanus leaves. We present our bundle of dried Kava roots and stems. Bill proceeds with the singsong Sevusevu ceremony clapping in response as he recites.
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Finished, he lifts his head and with a bright smile welcomes us to his family and to the village. We sit and chat for a while until we are taken to another room where sweet cakes and tea have been prepared for us. As is the custom throughout all the islands we have visited, we are the only ones invited to eat. Though many times, we have gently requested our hosts to join us, unless it is a real meal, they do not. The First Mate views this practice as a way of showing honor to their guests but, with our Western ways, there is no denying that it feels uncomfortable to sit there eating while our hosts sit there watching. “Get used to it,” she admonishes herself.
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Before we leave, we are invited to lunch after church service the next day. Lunch, of course, will be a treat and an honor, but an island church service does not inspire us. The singing is almost always a joy to hear, for it is amazing how perfectly the congregation can sing a cappella. It is the length of the service that is daunting. Think of the long services of our early Pilgrim forefathers. Sitting for hours on a hard wooden bench in an old New England church can truly bring the most sinful among us to his or her knees. The First Mate knows. She grew up in one of those churches!
Sunday, June 17th – The service does not disappoint. The singing is impressive, and the preacher, gesticulating with angry glares and much arm waving, is truly “fire & brimstone”. We cannot understand a word, but we get the idea. On we sit, and look at those benches! 8″ wide if they’re an inch! And the seat backs? There are none other than a narrow board going across about shoulder high. The First Mate, with lower back in agony, puts on a blissful smile and tries not to squirm.
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Somehow we had gotten contradictory information regarding the start of the service and managed to arrive well after it had started. Even so, it went on for another one and one half hours. Not far in front of us are 2 rows of youngsters. The second row is made up mostly of restless boys. When the movement looked about to break out into shoving and laughter, a man with a switch casually strolled down the aisle and across the row behind them. Stifled quiet then resumed. The First Mate smiles, conflicted with sympathy for the boys and respect for the discipline.
Church service over, we gratefully stand and inconspicuously stretch tightened muscles. We are met outside by two of the Chief’s granddaughters, Va and Liti. They are both attending college and are well-spoken young women who grew up in the capital of Savusavu. Though not raised on Fulanga, this is where the family hails from and this is where they return for vacations or anything else as in this case. They escort us back to the ceremonial room where we are to wait until lunch is ready. On the way and following the smokey smell of frying fish, The First Mate catches this photo of a family’s cooktop.
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After a while, we are invited into the dining area where an impressive spread is arranged. So many different dishes! There are grilled octopus, fried reef fish, noodles in coconut cream, an interesting local green leaf somewhat like spinach also in coconut milk, steamed pawpaw and sweet potatoes, taro and a few other entries that we never completely understood. For drink, there is Tang and water. We are seated at the end across from the Chief’s brother, Simon. Grace is said, and then as is natural for us, we pick up the forks in front of us to eat. It did not take long to realize that we are the only ones with forks. The custom is to eat with one’s fingers often using pieces of taro as helpers. We try to follow suit, but only succeed in making a mess.
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Giving up on getting the really good spinach dish to her mouth with just a mushy piece of taro and her fingers, The First Mate laughs at herself and the drippy collection which is more on her plate than in her mouth. Simon chuckles with her and tells her to please use her fork. That she does and enjoys that wonderful, healthy green dish so much that Simon’s wife next day gives her branches of the tiny leaves to take back to the boat.
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After dinner with the dishes removed, we sit and talk. With Bill, Va and Liti’s help, we are able to get through all difficult translations. What a delightful family they all are!
At 1:00, we again hear church singing. “Who is singing,” we ask. That is the children’s Sunday school class. We are amazed and tell them that our boys would have been constantly on the receiving end of that switch. They laugh and tell us that there is another service at 3:00 to which all in the village again will be attending. We now understand why Sunday would not have been a good day to first show up for the welcoming ceremony of Sevusevu. With church services for 2 1/2 hours in the morning, an hour of Sunday School for the kids, the big meal of the day at noon and another church service at 3:00, there is no time to welcome new guests.
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Friends of ours back in Opua, New Zealand, Jan and Kevin, had given us a bag of old reading glasses to hand out to the islanders. It may seem like a simple thing to us, but living remotely as these villagers do, a trip to an eye doctor and the purchase of eye glasses are unrealistic hopes. We have the eye glasses with us and hand them out as we are socializing after lunch. Many hands reach out to grab a pair. The look of surprise and happiness when a pair is put on is so very gratifying to see. Who needs a thank you after seeing that?
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Monday, June 18th – There is a cave near the top of the island and a fantastic view at the very top of the hill. You can’t miss the trail head veering off from the path leading into the village, though the trail itself is not often used. Okay, we are going to give it a try, but first we have to return to the village to track down a wood carver for The First Mate and to give Simon a special pair of reading glasses from The Captain. On the path into the village, we stop to talk to several women who have collected the long Pandanus leaves which they will hang to dry and later weave into baskets and sitting mats for their homes.
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In the village, we find the wood carver and order 2 bowls. We find Simon’s wife who gives The First Mate the green leaves. Simon comes in from his papaya grove, large machete in hand, and is quite pleased with the new glasses from The Captain.
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Off now to find the trail and hike to the top of the island. The trail head is easy to spot, and the trail itself, though somewhat over grown, is manageable. We find the cave with no problem.
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It’s from the cave to the top of the island that we begin to question our wisdom. We cannot find a trail. We are bushwhacking through dense, scratchy forest following false leads that dead end at a sheer rock wall. How to get around the wall up to the top? Deciding we need to descend first and then circle around, we finally scramble over the last gnarly rock to reach the pinnacle.
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Face red from the over-heated exertion, arms and legs scratched from the thorny branches, who cares? She made it!
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Just look at that view! Below is the beach that runs in front of the village.
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This direction overlooks the expansive lagoon where all the cruisers are anchored and the mushroom islets grow!
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Tuesday, June 19th – There is no way that any of us cruisers can return a full meal with our hosts. Knowing that there will be no grocery stores to restock for weeks, even months, all of us have carefully planned and rationed our food on board. Feeding that many is out of the question. We do, however, invite whomever would like to come out to Avante for afternoon tea. We tell the young people about our SUPs and are met with smiles. They can’t wait to try them!
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The Captain heads ashore at 2:00 to pick them up. We have 4 guests. Unfortunately, Bill, the grandson, could not make it, and Simon, also, could not because he has a bad knee. In their places are an older woman named Senna and a young man named Dua. We are delighted to see that Va and Liti are also among the group. Sitting under the shade of the connector, The First Mate serves crab mousse, cheese, and salami. Crackers are passed, and all seem to enjoy the fare.
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Finally, The Captain points to the SUP’s and asks them if they want to try. Definitely! The first out is Dua.
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Va follows quickly and immediately is having a blast. We are a bit surprised that both Va and Liti told us they were going to try the SUPs, for this is the first time we have seen young women take to the water. Little girls, yes, but young women, no. She does not go so far as to be in a swimsuit, but by village standards, she is definitely daring!
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The Captain encourages both of them to stand up, and in short order, they are up and having a dueling contest.
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Dua takes a tumble off his board and relinquishes it to Liti. She is not as sure about this thing and is content to sit and paddle. Va, however, is a pro and launches forth to circumnavigate the nearest mushroom islet. What a dynamic young woman!
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Wednesday, June 20th – We have had 3 days of visiting with our host family. It has been fun and interesting, but we are ready for some time off by ourselves and some time, too, to visit with the other cruisers. We set off across the lagoon to a popular anchorage called the Sand Spit where Chuck & Annie are anchored. Once settled, we dinghy over to their boat to tell them about our experiences with our hosts. They ask us about the other islands we have been to, and when we mention Tonga, The First Mate immediately thinks of Big Mamma’s Fried Coconut Strips, a Happy Hour staple at this cruisers’ bar in Tonga. Have they ever had them? No? Okay, that’s what we’ll have for Happy Hour tonight!
Off we go to shore to collect some coconuts, the kind that have fallen to the ground whose meat is now ready to eat. The Captain hates this task, for with our too short, none too sharp machete, it is a brutal task to open a coconut. He is not praying here. Nor is he about to commit Seppuku. He is hacking open a coconut. Look to his right. It’s not one, but 3 cracked coconuts that The First Mate has ordered! Back on the boat, she separates the white coconut from the husk, cuts it in strips and fries them in oil. Generously salted, served warm, they are delicious. She has learned that they go fast, and that they definitely do during Happy Hour that night aboard Exit Strategy.
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The next few days are soft and easy. We hike across the sand spit, drift snorkel through the reef opening eyeball to eyeball with the fish, and visit with friends.
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But the most favorite for The First Mate is exploring the isolated, shallow lagoons and the fantasy land created by their islets.
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A hidden beach tucked along the rocky shore begs for footprints – or maybe to be just left alone.
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Humor her, please. Here’s a Turtle Dove preening under the warmth of the sun.
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A single palm tree chiseled out a space for itself in this solid rock. Once again, the tenacity of the gift of life that Mother Nature are given all living things impresses her. “No wonder,” she ponders, “it is so hard for the body to give it up and die even when old age has robbed it of much of life.” That driving force to live that even the smallest cell has keeps the whole body drawing breath after dying breath. —- Well, Old Mate, that’s enough philosophizing for the day!
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Saturday, June 23rd – The villagers are planning a Feast today complete with roasted pig. Cruisers who want to participate are asked to give a donation towards the pig plus everyone is to bring a dish to share. Usually, we take part in these events, but we are planning to leave with the high tide this afternoon. Our next stop, Mutuku Island requires another overnight passage to arrive there in time for a daylight traverse of the reef entrance into its lagoon.
The Feast is going to be held on the sandy beach off which many of us are anchored. We plan to at least show up on the beach to see the activity and to say good bye to the friends we have made before we hed out of the lagoon at high tide in the early afternoon.
We head ashore as people begin to pull up in their dinghies. Children never seem to have a problem co-mingling. With kayaks, SUPs, soccer balls and adults handing out candy, cruiser and village kids have no problem finding common interests.
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While the men stand around talking, the women dive in to help with the preparations. The weaving of plates from green fronds is first on the agenda.
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A finished plate: lightweight, disposable and sustainable – for what more could one ask?
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Others are helping to roll out the flat bread which will be quickly pan-fried over an open fire prior to serving.
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We stay for an hour or so and then start saying our good byes to the villagers and to our cruising friends. Who knows where or when we will meet “down the Ocean Road” (as The First Mate likes to say), but given the way cruising paths do cross out here in the South Pacific, we know that we will meet up with some of them one day.
We return to the boat to complete the final preparations for departure. Unfortunately, by the time high tide arrives, it has clouded over and a light misty rain is falling. Underwater visibility now is too poor for a boat with Avante’s keel depth to be safely moving around the obstacle-filled lagoon. Settling back down on the boat, we postpone our departure until tomorrow.
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We have gone as far south in the Lau Group as we plan. Tomorrow, we will begin our journey back to Denarau. Granddaughter Berlin is arrives in Nadi on July 6th, and we still have many miles with several island stops between here and there to go.
Comments (4)
Georgiann Carroll
Susan, You and Bill are having the most amazing experience. It’s wonderful that you are able to share this with Berlin. Look forward to being with you this summer in Telluride.
We are having a cooler and wetter winter than usual in Tucson. My children have been skiing in Telluride twice as they have had more snow than last year. Perhaps we won’t be on water restrictions this summer.
Warner and Judy will be in Tucson for about a week next month. Judy appears to be doing well.
Sending my love and hugs,
Georgiann
Marty Langion
Loved this post, thank you for sharing your adventures with all of us!
Francine
Sue and Bill,
I felt enveloped in your visit to this paradise and it’s people.
Thank you.
See you in Telluride
Alison Stump
What a story! Surely Fulanga will be in your memory forever as one of the top highlights of life aboard Avante.
Village life has much to teach us Westerners.