Surfing the Reef in Fiji

It has been over 9 weeks since I wrote my last Blog and time has positively flown by. For those of you who do not know I am now back in the UK and have been for the past 4 weeks! Yes I know, a good Blogger keeps their page up to date but so so much has happened in the past ? Weeks that I have barely had time to stand still let alone write. But tonight I have a glass of soda (with a splash of wine) by my side. Suzie (my friend from Fiji who just so happened to be in Yorkshire while I was in Fiji) has postponed her visit (after she missed the first train in a string of onward connections) until tomorrow so I find myself with an entire evening without anything planned!!!

So …....

When I last wrote I was still in Fiji, Sigatoka to be exact, exploring the shops and mysterious covered side alleys that led from street to street. I had been there nearly two weeks and was feeling very much at home.

The next two weeks were a flurry of activity as events of every description seemed to be handed to me on a plate.

Kris had been asked to join in various things with the boys during his stay at Mango Bay but work, weather and opportunities had not always been right. With Kris about to leave at the end of the month everyone now had a dead line to beat and every day was quickly filled up with thing from the 'Things to be done before I leave!!' list.

One such thing was Surfing the Reef.

Although there are amazing tides inside the reef there are no waves. On the reef itself however it is a different story. On either side of the various passes waves, built in the deep water, break in perfect form onto the shallow reef. The boat was loaded with various boards plus a few spares.

The paddle board was hauled aboard along with some snorkel gear and we were off.

From the shore the white breakers are nearly invisible, only a distant roar can be heard at night. In the evening the misty spray is highlighted by the falling sun but the size of the waves are hidden until you are upon them.

In the channel itself there is a rapid and strong current that can rip you out through the narrow pass into the deep dark Pacific Ocean that lies beyond before you realise what is happening. As we moored at the marker buoy Pauly gave us our instructions. Stay with the waves at the edge of the reef, don't get caught in the rip, starfish fall to avoid getting cut on the coral, please try not to break your board and have fun!

We were ready!!

I watched the boys paddle out into the waves, dropped the paddle board over the side and headed toward the shallows safely away from the pass. I have never used a paddle board before but having seen the guys plus Elizabeth glide around in comparative ease I was eager to try. Sitting, I discovered, is easy, kneeling is cool, standing was a wee bit trickier than I had anticipated!!

In wind surfing one has the sail to brace against, the knees stay loose and you can counter balance any water movement by dropping the mast one way or the other. With the paddle board it was just me and a paddle plus every time I swapped the paddle from one side to the other a serious case of wobbles took place. This wobble I would try to counteract by paddling even harder, pushing myself up as the paddle fought to find resistance in the water until I could rebalance and to be fair this sometimes worked ….. but not always and rather a lot of climbing back on took place as I inadvertently explored the surrounding water!

My excursion on the paddle board was followed by a bit of snorkelling but, so busy was I looking at all the wondrous fish and coral formations, I didn't pay full attention to where I was drifting until to my horror I realised I was moving at speed over deeper and deeper water! Some serious swimming was needed to get myself out of the pass and back inside the reef, some serious swimming that left me totally breathless and a little shaken. I have drift dived through various passes totally enjoying the speed and exhilaration that fast moving water gives, but to be on the surface, out of sight of the boys who were obliviously surfing the waves, while I headed out to sea, was a different matter!

Safe inside the boat I watched the boys playing in the waves.

The surf had died down as the evening drew in so feeling recovered and brave I slipped a board into the water and paddled over to the smaller waves on the edge.

My first wave was great, even if I didn't stand up, the second even better. I tried a third nearer to the boys and was rewarded with a thunderous nose dive followed by a roller-coaster ride over the reef wall and into the calm water of the bay!

Pauly looked on concerned as my board was swept away with me underneath it until I rose out of the water with a cry of “Wicked!!” and paddled back out for some more!

I am neither as fit as I could be nor as young but by the end of our few hours I had had as much fun as any of the youngsters.

I had surfed the Reef, not well I will happily admit, but I had still surfed the reef and lived to tell the tale!! 

The other main activity involved Kris's work - diving!

The full moon that arrived the day we went surfing also messed up the tides at Mango Bay making diving out of our bay a near impossibility.

Low tide seemed to last for ever allowing the guests to walk all the way to the reef in ankle deep water.

Following a brief consultation between Kris and Garry, the owner of Diveaway it was decided that we would dive out of Hideaway, Diveaway's Big Sister, further down the coast.

 Hideaway has a channel that always has water in it allowing access to the deeper waters outside the pass. 

It is also a lot bigger than Mango Bay with beach fronted burras that stretch along the shore.

The beach however is amazing with soft coral sands and warm shallow water safe for children and adults alike.

Fiji diving is amazing. Over the four weeks I was there, thanks to Gary's generosity and Kris's wangling, I managed 11 dives at various sites.

Every dive was different, every dive was beautiful, every dive made me glad to be alive and grateful for the opportunities that have come my way.

More Dive stories to come ....

Sigatoka

Sigatoka

Apart from the Activities arranged on site there is also plenty to do in and around the surrounding area. Following the departure of Casey, Elaine and I decided to venture into Sigatoka or a spot of window shopping and exploration.

Elizabeth had kindly taken me into town at the beginning of my stay and I was eager to return to pick up a few things I had seen. The bus into town is caught from the main road and luckily Elaine and I got a lift to the top of the hill upon a minibus that had just brought some guests to the resort.

We (I) had dawdled too long at reception chatting away and by the time the mini bus dropped us at the main road we had the strangest feeling that the bus was gone! We waited for a good fifteen minutes chatting away as clouds gathered overhead. I was inclined to stick out my thumb and hitch but was afraid of the reaction I would get from Elaine.

Five minutes later the first of the fine rain began to fall, Elaine announced that SHE was going to stick her thumb out at the next car that passed. Surprised and revealed I enthusiastically joined her and we were soon in the back seat of a black car racing towards our destination.

Sigatoka is a 45 minute drive by Express bus from Mango Bay, a drive that is both scenic and enjoyable. The fact that we made into town within 30 minutes that day will give you some idea of our ride in!

Double white lines, as Elaine remarked, seemed to have a different meaning to our driver than to other road users. More than a dozen times he had to swerve sharply back onto his side of the road (usually on a blind bend) as he came face to face with a car or lorry coming in the opposite direction.

We flew through a herd of cows ambling along the road, a quick backward glance by Elaine confirming that no-one, luckily, would be eating road kill beef that night. I grasped the handle above the door as Elaine braced herself against the back of the seats in front of her and all conversation stopped.

At Sigatoka we handed over our donation to the fuel and shakily walked the last 30m into town nervously laughing at our escape and deciding firmly on the BUS back to the Bay.

Sigatoka is a wonderful collection of shops and stores that contain just about everything a household would need.

On my first visit with Elizabeth I had discovered Big Bear, a great Indian shop that would put the £1 shop back home to shame. There is a large Indian community in Fiji and their shops although five times the size of the tiny garage style openings of India are no less packed with stock. Shelves rise up to the ceiling, stock is spread along the floor, cooking pots and flowers hang from the roof space.

Exceedingly harp knives from $1 (there are three Fiji dollars to the pound) lie in baskets at child height. Beautiful stainless steel bowls lie stacked in tall towers, large, small, shallow, deep. There were six small shiny bowls of fractionally different sizes, together they made an exquisite set of six, a set of six that were NEEDED by me!!

I bought more knives and another three sets of six bowls to add to my already purchased three sets of six! I bought more pegs, a garland for Peter to hang in the Taxi, a bag of wash powder, all the usual tourist things!!

From there Elaine and I entered the one of the two big department style shops designed for the tourist and fashion conscious clientèle.

Beautiful carvings, gifts, clothes, souvenirs, locally made Ice-creams, Black pearls (that they swear come from Fiji but I was later told are probably Polynesian) Gold pearls (that do come from here) gold and silver fill the halls while live musicians serenade you as you browse.

There are people to open the doors for you, people to reach and assist, people to hover four steps behind you in just case you will need help in the future, people to explain, guide, direct and advise.

Never has shopping been so pampered!

There is no hard sell, there is not in fact, any sell at all. These people seem to have received staff training to genuinely help and care for the guests who enter into the air-conditioned (to a comfortable warm temperature rather that the freeze chill of the bus) halls of their realm.

Elaine and I delighted in the attention, pointing and picking things up as assistants explained their use and meaning. I admired the intricate workings in the clubs and spears that hung on the wall and picked up a strange four pronged stick bound with string and symbols.

A delightful guide, smiling so broadly with the sweetest smile imaginable, launched into a very visually descriptive narration as to the meaning and use of all the implements before us. She graphically explained the way the disembowelling spade worked. Her words giving meaningful power as she went on to explain how the neck breaker, skull crusher, gut gouger and throwing hammer could kill a person with ease. She calmly and still smiling sweetly told us how the eating of the brains of ones foe was said to bring knowledge and power to the conqueror, as I gently replaced the Brain Fork in my hand back into the basket on the shelf!

Fully enlightened I led Elaine to the large open market hall past shops of fabric, thundering music, hard ware and shoes. Here we entered the hustle and bustle of the sellers, their rented space filled with the crops from their gardens and plots.

Shell fish sellers clustered together sorting out 'lots' for sale.

No-body sold individual items, everything was arranged into groups of three, five and six, a price in dollars for the pile propped against them.

Local shoppers rearranged the 'lots' swapping one lettuce for another, changing an under-ripe tomato in one pile with a rich red one in another as they talked and bought.

We entered an area dedicated to the Kava plant, their roots lying in rows, their scent filling the air with throat catching ferocity.

Kava root can be bought whole or pre ground into its fine powder state and sold in small packets. The powder is soaked and kneaded within a cloth to infuse a large bowl of water that is then drunk by the local people at all social gatherings. It has slight numbing properties, making the mouth numb after one or two cups, the legs numb after three or four and the whole body inactive after ten!

Kava root is grown for three to five years before it is harvested. The older the plant the stronger the Kava. Alcohol, although not banned, is expensive to buy and an imported introduction to the Islands All social events, and there are many within the Islands as chiefs and families from different areas and valleys negotiate, gather and join together to achieve benefits for all, are dominated by the Kava Ceremony.

During our boat trip to the Island on my first day in Fiji, the group had gathered to drink Kava. At the time I had declined but during the past two weeks I had joined and enjoyed the Kava ceremony at the resort.

I looked up at the Temple on the hill and wondered if I had time to visit but the heat was rising, our shopping grew heavy and the bus was waiting at the main stop.

I entered the supermarket for my last purchase of the day, a crate of beer for Kris. The sales assistant took my details – a wholesale cash purchase for Mango Bay Resort!- and just as I had finished my transaction I turned to find Danny standing behind me shopping list in hand. No bus would be needed for our return to the bay, no struggle would be had as I tried to climb aboard the refrigerated ice trap with my case of stubbies. Elaine and I smiled broadly as Danny pointed to where the Jeep was parked.

Even in the supermarkets a work force stands ready to assist and despite my protests that I could manage, my case of Fiji Gold was carried to Dannys Jeep and deposited on the back seat.

Elaine and I retired to one of the street side cafés to watch the world pass by as Danny finished the last of his shopping and I once again looked up at the Temple.

The next cloudy day I told myself, the next day that was not filled with activities and plans arranged by Kris, the next day I was free I would return to Sigatoka simply to visit the temple.

With that thought still firmly in my head Danny beeped his horn to get our attention and we climbed aboard for the 50 minute trip back to Mango Bay!

Activities and Crab Races - Fiji Style

Life at Mango Bay can be as relaxing as you desire or as action packed as you can manage!

Each day the Activities board is filled with ideas for your pleasure and indulgence.

The spar offers amazing massages, facials, pedicures, manicures, braids and specialised treatments for days of self indulgent luxury.

Warmth and aromas fill the air as you lie on the table, smooth strong hands teasing away the stresses and strains of life.

Deft fingers draw scented oils through your hair soothing, relaxing, releasing strains you had not even been aware of until their departure.

Jewellery making classes take place beneath a thatched roof next to the Dive Shop.

Coconuts are de-husked by Wise, one of the many gifted multi-talented staff, before being sawn, drilled and shaped into delicate pieces to adorn newly bronzed bodies.

For those feeling more active there is volley ball, touch rugby, egg tossing, pine-apple bashing.

All are team building events bringing strangers together, forming friendships between lone travellers, bringing groups into contact with other groups, until the entire resort becomes a family, ever changing, ever growing, always evolving as people depart and new faces take their place.

Some guests come with gifts of their own. The arrival of Dedrrie and Brock saw our coconut jewellery class leap into a new dimension.

Simple shapes were first turned into simple waves before morphing into exquisitely balanced and designed sharks, eagle rays and the sweetest turtle ever carved with a blunt hack saw.

Inspired I began to carve my own shapes from the discarded coconut shells that lay scattered around the grounds as people, having sampled the smooth fresh insides each day, opened more and more of the fallen coconuts beneath the palms.

Coconuts are a joy to work with as they not only give you a refreshing drink at the end of the vigorous de-husking process but also provide you with creamy white nourishing flesh to eat as you cut, sand and smooth the shell into a beautiful piece of jewellery with nothing more than a piece of sand paper and a blunt saw or lie prone upon the golden sands watching the waves trickle along the shore.

Alan, a retired Londoner living in Scotland and travelling with a long term friend of his sister who now lives in Australia became the expert de-husker of our family while he was here. Each day coconuts were gathered by family members from outside their rooms and deposited by the husking stick until Alan rose for breakfast.

I hung my hammock outside the Dive Shop, swinging gently in the shade, sanding and crafting shapes of my own as Alan wandered back and forth with new people to demonstrate, teach and open coconuts by the score.

By mid morning Brock would drift over to help someone with a shape or to cut a new design of his own and so an impromptu gathering would form. His finished creations adorned Derdrie's wrists, ankles and neck as she performed her daily yoga routine on the beach. A woman of magnificent enthusiasm and flexibility she soon had more members of our family reaching, bending, stretching along side her, patiently explaining and guiding us as she worked her routine.

Caseys arrival into the Resort brought a wave of energy that infected us all. Travelling alone from the US she had come to Fiji to see her father who lived aboard his boat in Suva. Having lived for a week or so in the compact quarters of the boat she had ventured further down the coast for a week of sun and relaxation. A masseuse by trade she quickly added her gifts to our collective, rubbing out peoples little aches over a beer by the pool.

Casey turned out to be the same age as myself by a week, both our fathers were also the same age and both had sailed the Pacific at the same time. We compared notes, swapped e-mails, wrote down boat names and laughed about the way the world had led us so perfectly through our lives.

Elaine, the best friend of Alan's sister, became our companion as we discussed life, children and dreams. The days drifted by, the sun shone down and a quiet energy settled over Mango Bay.

In the evenings we gathered in the large restaurant to discuss the day, our individual adventures and our plans. Beer flowed as did the Bounty Rum, laughter and excitement infusing those around us with the merry mood of hospitality and joy.

Evening Activities were as varied as the days events. Ping-pong competitions, Killer pool, Team trivia, Frog races and Crab races were organised by our smiling team builders.

Crab races drew everyone together as Hermit crabs, gathered from the beach 20m from the restaurant were placed under a bucket for safe keeping, each shell now bearing a number in glossy felt tip, each crab hidden from view from the expectant crowd.

Names and countries were allocated to each of the crabs and placed upon a large board, a quick look at the guest passport origin tending to guide the country selection, a wicked sense of humour, directed usually at patriotic trait’s, gave them their names.

At the designated hour our family gathered together in the large Race Hall ready for the moment the crabs would be auctioned off. As each crab was introduced on the board and offered to the highest bidder our family of universal travellers disintegrated into individualistic territorial possessors, the room becoming a frenzy of excitement and laughter as people out-bid each other by a dollar at a time, usually as the cry “Going Three Times …..?” was called from our enthusiastic Auctioneer, Oni.

All moneys collected from the now 'Sold' Crabs was put into a kitty which was used to form First and Second Prizes. The more people paid for their crabs, the more there was in the kitty and the higher the prize money became!

Once all the 'bets' had been collected, the Kitty divided, the race began.

In Crab Racing the course was circular, starting point is at the centre and the first crab to cross the line is deemed the winner. No physical interference is allowed, no crowding of the race course is permitted as the upturned bucket covering the so far unseen contestants is removed following a tumultuous crowd chanted count down.

Crabs scuttle here and there racing off in all directions. The Fijian crab was always placed No 10 upon the board and during my time at mango Bay always seemed to be the largest of the selection hidden beneath the bucket yet crabs, I have learnt, are unpredictable and a thick white chalk line on a smooth painted floor tended to confuse even the biggest of our race contestants as crabs veered to the left and the right along its way. Others would cross the line without a backward glance only to be swooped up in the comforting hand of our referee as the remaining race-crabs were returned to the bucket.

Winners were held aloft for all to see, Prize money was paid and all race contestants were returned to the wild as our international family reformed to partake in the celebratory drinks!

Celebration drinks changed to social drinks as the crowd thinned allowing those of us who needed it to sleep while those who didn't talked late into the night reducing the Resorts stock of beer and rum to dangerously low levels!