As we were approaching the Naigoro pass at Kadavu, we saw a boat that’s hard to mistake just on the inside. I got out the binoculars to confirm, and yes, it looked like a big metal ketch, and yes, it was Caminante! We hadn’t seen them since Savusavu because they had taken a different path and skipped the Lau group because they had guests to pick up on the big island. It’s one of those funny things out here that sometimes you say good-bye and never see someone again and sometimes you just have a random chance encounter. Unfortunately, we were a day too late this time, as Caminante was heading off that morning, but luckily, we will catch back up with them in Suva.
The overnight passage from Matuku to Kadavu was mostly pleasant with the exception of the variable winds which kept me changing heading and sail area throughout my watch (which started at 2am). We had a lot of squalls after the sun came up, which made timing our pass entry a bit challenging. We aborted our approach once as a squall overtook us, but we went through on the second try just a little after low slack water. We had about 1 kt of current flowing in, which meant we had wind and current in the SAME direction, which makes a huge difference. (Wind against current creates standing waves.) The pass water was flat calm, and entry was about as easy as it gets, even with 20kt wind and swell coming straight at the pass.
There is a write-up in one of the homemade cruisers guides we all use by someone who exited this pass with current and wind in opposite direction and had huge standing waves, and because of that single description everyone seems to think that this pass is crazy. More than one skeptical person retorted back to us, “you’re going through THAT pass?” However, in our experience, the same pass can be crazy difficult or totally easy, it all depends on your timing, and we nailed this one. A little bit of planning and a little bit of luck can make all the difference.
The reef we passed through is part of the famous Great Astrolabe Reef, and everything you hear and read about The Naigoro pass is that it is supposed to have amazing diving, “some of the best in the world.”
Tim, Hans, and Brenden snorkeled in the pass the next day. I’m sorry to say that they reported back that it was nothing special. Perhaps “best diving in the world” means “best diving that tour operators go to” and we are spoiled by places like Minerva Reef and more recently, Fulaga.
The best part of the Naigoro pass was that Nautilus caught two tunas on the way in so we had a huge steak and tuna feast on Exodus that night.
We departed the island of Matuku in the evening on Fri 26 June and had another nice downwind overnight sail. This time we were bound for Kadavu, a large island to the south of Suva. In the morning, we entered The Great Astrolabe Reef by way of Naigoro pass and anchored two nights at the small bay just inside the pass at the eastern side of Kadavu Island.
A day sail away found us anchored off the small, uninhabited island of Namara, which is NW of Kadavu and inside the same greater reef system. We spent three peaceful nights there until provisions at Suva started to call to us, and then we had a fast day sail up to Suva, arriving Thur 2 July. The week we were in Suva went by like a whirlwind as we provisioned, prepared for visitors, and caught back up with our other kid boat friends. Our friends from back home, the Bellini family, arrived on 9 July and that night we were off for a bouncy and wet overnight passage to the island of Gau, which is east of Suva. We had an amazing week at Gau spending time at a few different anchorages, and then we made another overnight passage to Yanuca. Yanuca is a small island inside the Beqa lagoon just to the southwest of Suva. We spent our last few days of the Billini visit at Yanuca until we departed for Musket Cove on the evening of 20 July.
We were planning for an evening departure from Matuku for an overnighter west to Kadavu. It was just us and Nautilus leaving as the others had decided to stay another night or two. Nautilus weighed anchor first and was heading toward the pass when we had everything ready, and I went to start the engines. The port engine started up no problem, but the starboard engine didn’t even flinch. We radioed Nautilus and they started heading back while we went into hyper trouble shooting mode. First off, we started the generator in case it was a battery issue. Then Tim got in the engine compartment and started disconnecting and reconnecting things. After about 7-8 minutes of this the engine finally started, so we radioed Nautilus again and told them the abort was aborted, so once again they headed out the pass. Apparently, we took a little long actually getting out of there once we got the engine started, because Nautilus radioed worried that we weren’t coming, but realizing that it was getting dark they would need to go on without us. Not to worry, we got out of there just as the last rays of sun were disappearing and we were off.
As timing would have it, Tim and I enjoyed our 15th wedding anniversary at Matuku. We are generally pretty low key about these sorts of things, and we hadn’t really told anyone about it. Our thought was to just cook up some steaks and enjoy a nice bottle of wine and hope we have enough steak so that the boys don’t eat ours. But then while the boys were over playing on Fluenta, Liz called to invite the boys to stay for dinner. So, it was win-win. The boys got to stay on Fluenta and have spaghetti or something with Jonathan and Victoria, and Tim and I got an anniversary dinner alone. And Liz had no idea it was our anniversary, it was just one of those coincidences.
After our Sevusevu and kava drinking in Matuku, we all went back to our boats for a quiet evening that started out not so quiet.
The wind picked up fiercely from the south after the frontal boundary passed, and we had variable winds with gusts up in the mid 20s. Our friends on Nautilus found themselves with their stern only a few feet from the coral behind them, and of course this happens only moments after Hans went ashore to fill water cans. So, Tim jumped in the dinghy immediately to go help, and I got on the radio to ask Fluenta or Nirvana to see if they could go catch Hans. And right at that moment Fluenta was also reanchoring, so there was excitement all around. Another boat had joined the anchorage that morning very near to us and Nautilus, so there wasn’t a whole lot of room for finding a better spot, so we also ended up also reanchoring to move forward, because we all wanted Katrien to be able to sleep that night!
It turned out a win-win, because we also ended up with a little more breathing room from the coral behind us. So, just as we were all feeling settled, we realized that the fun wasn’t over for our little fleet. Just as the last light was leaving the sky, Tim looked back and saw that Nirvana had dragged and was now going to have to reanchor as well. Luckily, Fluenta wasn’t in their flight path.
After all the excitement, we enjoyed another tuna dinner, because Tim had managed to spear an elusive dogtooth tuna that morning.
When we first met the chief that wasn’t the chief, he was heading out with some guys to dive for sea cucumbers. We learned that they can make quite a bit of money from the sea cucumbers because there is a very big Asian market for them, and they have a consistent Korean buyer who pays them something like $100 per cucumber. So, as they overfish them, they are having to dive deeper and deeper to find them. It’s obviously not a sustainable venture, but in the meantime, it is boosting the local village economy. Wanting to do our share, the guys volunteered to find some while they were out spear fishing, and they were pleased when they brought back two, in fact, I think Brenden found one of them. But then it turned out they got the wrong ones, and the villagers laughed at them with a little bit of disgust on their faces as they threw the wrong ones back.
In contrast to the atoll of Fulanga, Matuku had the steep, dramatic geography reminiscent of The Marquesas in French Polynesia. It is a bit older in its life cycle than the Marquesas, though, since it has a fringing reef, but still younger than The Society Islands like Tahiti and Bora Bora since there isn’t much of a lagoon. The bay where we were anchored was tucked into the middle of the island, in fact it is the remains of the volcanic crater. It was an amazing place to be because we were basically surrounded by this steep, beautiful, lush green island.
The anchorage at Matuku
Our first morning in the bay we were all visited by a man in a fishing boat who introduced himself as the chief. He invited us to all come in together for our sevusevu the next day, and he told us a little about the village, which is small, with only 9 families. The chief was very welcoming and friendly. He told us they have plenty of water so we can fill jerry cans any time we want, and we are welcome to do our washing on shore. He also told us we were free to swim and fish and generally enjoy the bay, even though we hadn’t done our sevusevu yet. However, in stark contrast to how we were treated in Fulaga, I, the woman, was basically invisible. They came aboard our boat, but they didn’t introduce themselves to me and didn’t shake my hand. After I served them drinks, they thanked Tim and when they were leaving, they said good-bye to Tim. There may have been a slight nod in my direction when they mentioned doing laundry on shore, but that was it. I really only noticed it because that most certainly WASN’t the way in Fulaga. Simon, the husband in our host family, was the son of the chief, and he always addressed me, looked me in the eye, and shook my hand.
The people in the village later told us he wasn’t the chief, that their chief was in Suva. We didn’t ask for any further information, not wanting to get too deep into the island politics.
Wow, as much as I had raved about Fulaga, Matuku was pretty nice too. We went ashore as one big group to do our sevusevu, and we were met at shore by a couple of local young men and one of them went to get the “old people.” I’m sure he meant “elders” but “old people” had it’s charm, too. We went to the community hall where there were women weaving mats and cutting fruit, and they were all very welcoming. As usual, they loved my chumba, but not nearly as much as they loved 1.5 year old Benjamin in his little sulu. Can you blame them? We did the sevusevu, and then they invited us to stay and drink some kava right then and there, so of course we couldn’t refuse. We stayed for a couple of hours and they gave us many different local fruits to sample. Matuku is a very lush and fertile island and they can grow many things. It poured down rain but we were all nice and cozy in the community hall chugging kava and getting to know one another. It is a very small village there called Lomati, and all of their school age children go to a boarding school at another village on the island during the week, so our big group gave them the sound of playing children that they don’t hear everyday. There was a young girl there, maybe 4 years old, and she was all smiles when Fien (girl from Nautilus) went over and took her hand and asked her to join all the boat kids in their circle.
Even Brenden had some kava
We had been warned that at low tide the water dries near the village and all that’s left is mud. But not to worry, as the rain kept coming down and the kava kept flowing, periodically we’d send the kids out to move the dinghys further out so they would be left sitting in the mud.
While we were there, the people of the village invited us to their church fundraiser. It came across as if it were something they were planning independent of our presence, but since we were there we were welcome to join them. So, then they had very good luck with their timing, because the church probably raised quite a bit more money than it would have. The feast and the fun evening were more than worth the donations we all contributed. They had a full spread of food, but a noticeable difference between this meal and the meals we had in Fulaga was that this one had a decidedly much more western feel to the presentation. First of all, it was all set up on folding tables with table cloths, and second, they used burners to keep the food warm as it sat there, similar to what they used to use at catered work lunches. But not to take the western theme too far, the food was very much Fijian and we still all sat on mats on the floor, so that was a relief. Most of the evening the kids all ran around outside playing games and having fun. After the meal, the men all stayed well into the night to drink some kava while the moms and kids retreated back to the boats. In contrast to Fulaga, here it was really only the men drinking kava rather than it being a mixed gender activity.
The church fundraiser at Matuku
One of the young men of the community really seemed to befriend our group. He is married and has a young family (two kids, if I remember correctly) and Tim and Hans especially seemed to take to him. When we met him, he introduced himself as James or JJ, but pretty soon they guys were calling him Jesse, Jesse James. I always thought that was a nickname they gave him, but I just asked Tim about it, and he told me that his name really was Jesse James. Anyway, Jesse told Tim that he doesn’t drink Kava anymore. He said that now he has a family, and his family is more important. If he drinks Kava then his family doesn’t eat, and so he doesn’t drink kava. We took that to mean that Kava saps your productivity, so if he’s drinking Kava all night then he’s not providing for his family during the day. He seemed educated and genuinely inquisitive about our travels and the places we’ve been.
We went on two hikes while in Matuku. The first was more like a walk up and down a hill to the beach on the east side of the island, while the second was more like a climb up a mountain to a high peak where we saw amazing views of the anchorage, the reef, and the ocean beyond.
Jesse James was our guide on both hikes, and on the first one just a subset of our little fleet went. It was a nice walk through the lush island, and we passed a papaya “plantation” as well as a huge mandarin (tangerine) tree. We were all a little short of fresh fruit and veggies on board, so it wouldn’t be too much of an exageration to say that we were all drooling over the mandarins. Jesse said if we wanted some, no problem, we could pick some on the way back. So, we made our way over the hill down to the beach on the other side, enjoying pleasant conversation along the way. When we reached the beach, Jesse started to make some baskets out of palm fronds so that we would have something to carry the mandarins in. This is the side of the island where the school is, and since it was just about the time school was getting out, several kids came over to hang around us. There was one young teen girl who spoke a small amount of English, but most of the smaller ones didn’t. So, they just hung around close by and smiled huge smiles like only Fijian children smile. It was relatively low tide, to Axel and Sepe, two boys from other boats, played and explored around the reef, while I enjoyed a solitary walk along the beach. When I got back I found that Gary had decided to learn to make a basket and Jesse was patiently helping him. The rest of us were somewhat ready to go, so we got a head start. Back at the village, Jesse showed up with our mandarins as well as a few papaya. These were all given to us in generosity, without expectation of anything in return. Of course, to show our own gratitude, each family gave something to Jesse as well.
The beach on the other side of the island
Jesse James beginning to make a basket
The second hike was a bit longer and a lot more challenging. This time the whole anchorage was there, including Liz with Benjamin in a carrier on her back. I must admit that she was my inspiration many times that day when I found myself struggling for a handhold or slipping on rocks. I just kept thinking to myself, “Suck it up. Liz is doing this with a baby on her back.” We made a few rest stops on the way up, and one was a particularly interesting stop because it was at the base of a huge banyan tree. The kids loved it, because it was hollow up the middle, and they could climb a fair way up to the top of the tree. It was also here that Gary was taken out by a rock. When the climbers ahead of you dislodge a rock such that it starts rolling down, they yell, “rock!” This all came together about a split second too fast, and Gary heard the call, saw the rock, and jumped up over it, but like I said, just a split second too late. Truth be told, we are lucky no one got seriously hurt that day from falling rocks, because falling rocks were plentiful.
The last bit of the climb was the worst as you were basically going straight up grabbing roots and trees to hold on and desperately looking for footholds among grass, dirt, and loose rocks. For me, it wouldn’t have been nearly so bad if I wasn’t obsessed with thinking about how hard it was going to be to get down! Anyway, making it to the top was worth it as the views were breathtaking. You could see the boats in the anchorage below and all the way out to the reef and the ocean beyond. It rained a bit while we were up there, but no one really seemed to care. We were satisfied that we had made it and satisfied that we were eating lunch. After lunch at the top and the kids moving here and there along the steep ledge, we were perched on that I was beyond nervous, we started our descent. I was advised that I should descend facing the ground, like going down a ladder, but I opted instead going down seated on my butt, and it was much easier than I thought it would be, why did I worry so much? Of course, the seat of my shorts took a bit of abuse getting down. When we were back at the banyan tree the group was much more spread out than on the way up as there was a wide range of paces coming down. A good part of the descent I found myself following Katrien but then I lost her too and it was just Victoria and I. Victoria was nervous we were lost, and I was too, but I put on a confident face and insisted that if we are going down, we are going the right way. Eventually we caught up with some of the others and we were told that Tim went that way, but someone else thinks we should go this way. I responded as honestly as I could, that Tim has a way about these sorts of things, and if I had to, I’d trust him with my life picking the right way to go. So, we followed the way Tim went and soon found ourselves back in the village. I wonder if I ever told Tim about that.
When we arrived in Matuku, we were one kid boat short, because Lumbaz decided to stay in Fulaga a bit longer and then hit a few other islands in southern Lau. This is the point where Genie and I started corresponding by email in Spanish and I absolutely love it! Not only does it help me with my Spanish, but it’s also given Genie and I an opportunity to get to know each other better personally. I hope we keep doing this, even after our cruising tours are done.
The passage was a beautiful dead downwind sail with enough wind that we sailed with only the genoa. We didn’t need to break any speed records since it was a short overnight sail so we had a comfortable pace with just the small headsail. We landed two skipjack tuna on the passage, and even though skipjack isn’t as good as yellow fin, we were happy to have some tuna after not having any for awhile. We crossed back into the eastern hemisphere and made our approach to the pass entrance after sunrise but before the sun was high enough to provide very good visibility.
Approaching Matuku at sunrise
The pass at Matuku isn’t your typical pass, because Matuku isn’t actually an atoll, it’s a volcanic island with a fringing reef and not much of a lagoon at all. So, the pass we went through was a pass through the fringing reef and once through the pass you hang a right into a protected bay in the island. We were the first of the kid boat fleet to approach the pass. It was wide, and as you’d expect given the description above, there wasn’t any current to be concerned about, and after poking our nose in to have a look, we decided to go for it. Getting through the pass was the easy part. The tricky part was navigating the coral filled bay in order to get to the anchorage. Since we went in so early our visibility was poor and the navionics chart was basically useless. We could see that there was reef between us and the head of the bay, but it was very difficult to spot the edges, and at one point we had to stop the boat pretty abruptly. Then, a local fishing boat came out to us and cheerfully guided us in. Nirvana came in next and was also guided by the fishing boat, and by the time Fluenta came in the sun was higher and the visibility much better.
Between the time we had dropped anchor and Fluenta had arrived, I was in radio contact with Nautilus, and I communicated that the anchorage would be very tight for the four boats but we will do what we can to squeeze them in. Katrien said something like, well, if they have to they will just keep going, if there isn’t room for them, but I tried to reiterate that we would do everything we could to fit. In hindsight, what a silly conversation to have. In my notes in the logbook, I had written “not enough room for Nautilus?” and it makes me laugh as if there was any way we would not fit them in, even if it meant rafting up. And now that I think about it, if there really hadn’t been enough room, we probably would have just bailed on Matuku and gone with them.
Anyway, once the sun came out and you could actually see the edges of the bombies I was surprised to discover that the anchorage was much larger than it earlier seemed. So, there was plenty of room for all of us, and we all enjoyed a fun sushi night on Exodus with the skipjacks we caught on passage.
Gresham Family Exodus 