Robinson Crusoe Island to Malolo Island Aug 28 Janet "Margarita Janet?" Need the man ask? This has been our evening ritual since Richard arrived in Fiji two weeks ago. To be honest my liver is struggling but I can't say no. There will be time to dry out once Richard gets on a plane back to Wellington.
*** Another day on the road found us rounding the coast to western Fiji. Through yet another reef we entered the Mamanucas (pronounced Mamanuthas). Finally, I thought, we would get the reputed lighter winds in this yachting mecca. Not. We anchored in Musket Cove, home of marina, yacht club and resort, and bounced around all night in howling winds.
In the morning Richard and I bravely (or foolishly) took the dinghy to shore to shop and do laundry. Arriving on land was like being transported to another world. Gently waiving coconut palms, friendly staff dressed in red and black, people wandering around in holiday mode, and beach bars under thatched roofs.
Having access to a washing machine for a halfway reasonable price is a rare treat. The shop was surprisingly cheap for a resort and I stocked up on pawpaws, bananas and salad stuff including basil and mint which they grow behind the resort.
Scary trip back to the boat. I was driving and the waves were big for our tiny, now very laden, dinghy. We got absolutely soaked. Back on board we quickly hauled anchor and began navigating the coral around to the lee side of the Malolo. As we rounded to corner to Likuliku Bay we breathed a sigh of relief. It was calm. We'd expected it to be full of other boats escaping the wind but no, there was only one other boat anchored there. A kiwi boat. A boat we'd heard on passage on our radio net. We became instant friends with Kat and Seiorse, two gorgeous 30 somethings off Acrux, sharing drinks, meals and computer files within moments. They are foodies too so we delighted in swapping recipes and ideas.
We'd anchored off a very exclusive resort and about three times a day a helicopter came in, plus ferries, runabouts, and sea planes. We swam, we read, we swam. What an indolent time.
Now we are back on the road and I'm glad of it. Heading back to the mainland to drop Richard off and restock, we stopped at Musket Cove to watch the Bledisloe Cup. This time anchoring in idyllic conditions.
The Navire crew had spent several days practicing the New Zealand national anthem in Maori. As the room seemed to fill with people with Australian accents I started worrying about the prospect of being lynched when we sang. On the big screen the teams ran on to the field. To our surprise the Aussies sat mutely through their anthem. Then most of the 50 strong crowd erupted into the New Zealand national anthem, in Maori. I was so proud to be a kiwi. To top it all off we thrashed the Aussies this time.