(by Ann)

You have to give these villagers credit for their fundraising efforts. Today we attended yet another fundraiser. Today’s was hosted by the youth group. The youth group here is defined as 15-35 year olds. I remember running a young adult group back home and having to adjust the age to 21 so that drinking alcohol was not an issue. I am not sure how they handle it but I have not seen the youngest member of the youth group drinking kava. We have yet to figure out at what age they are allowed to have a swig of kava.

Today’s event included long speeches in Fijian, long prayers in Fijian, silly meke dancing and kava. Oh, and a feast where the pailangis (us white guys) were served first. Huge loaves of bread made in the lovo, dahl soup and cabbage and papaya salad. Oh and sweet potatoes that they offered to all of us as we returned to our boats.

The beauty of these events is the joyful family atmosphere. I am always reminded of family picnics when we attend. The younger kids were running around playing with balloons that a pailangi gave them, the chief and his closest aides hosted kava, and a card game (which I cannot figure out) was formed. The event started at 2 pm -which means around 3 pm Fijian – and by the time they had finished the formal events the light was soft and warm and picnic-like. And of course we are all sitting around on woven mats mugging for pictures. Yep, family time in Fulunga.

This lovely fundraiser (no, we are not sure what our donation will be used towards) followed a spectacular day of paddle boarding. Initially I paddled ashore and hiked into the village to see if Tau, our host, or at least some of my favorite kids, would like to paddle board. The winds have died and the anchorage is like a mill pond. Unfortunately because everyone was busy prepping for the fundraisers I left the village with no takers. No worries (sega na lega in Fijian) Bob and I can go by ourselves.

We paddled off in a direction unfamiliar to us…towards the third village. It was amazing. We chased two turtles that did not notice us for quite some time. Then we investigated a school of large fish that were being chased by something bigger. It was beautiful. A huge ball of 9-12″ fish schooling under our boards and then quickly organizing and swimming to the right and then the left. The water was incredibly still and clear.

And it is still clear and calm. Bob just reported that he could see the Southern Cross reflected in the still water. Magical Fulanga.

PS- a quick birthday wish to my very old brother, Paul, is celebrating his 60th today. We raised our Charismas in your honor tonight! Many happy returns.

PPS-I just tucked Ann into the hammock on the foredeck. She is swinging gently to the swaying of Charisma under the stars while I’m sending this note.

(by Ann)

Fiji is known for its canoe making. And outrigger canoes can be found throughout the islands. These are the canoes that were sailed by warring parties in the early days. The canoe that was pulled out of the jungle last week will be made into an outrigger canoe .There are several of these outriggers in various stages of decay in Fulunga. But one canoe has been maintained and we have watched Mele and Graham (of Maunie) sail it around the anchorage.

Qele going out fishing in the canoe.

Well today, I participated in the attempted sinking of this very useful canoe. Not on purpose, of course. And we, Qele (appropriately pronounced Gaily) and I, saved it, without alerting the anchorage or the village to our situation.

All of this excitement took place after the morning entertainment -the supply ship from Suva arrived in the anchorage. It was about 90 feet long and belching out smoke as it anchored nearby. I had jumped on my paddleboard and gone to the beach to enjoy the excitement from the villagers’ point of view. Almost all of the villagers were at the shed on the beach, which had been loaded with items going to Suva the night before. Everyone is anxious to send things to their relatives and as I found out today there is no charge for shipping interisland parcels on these boats.

The "Liahona"

There was even a large black pig with its hind legs hobbled, waiting to be loaded on the boat. The pig is a gift from Asena, one of my favorite weavers, to her sister for her wedding. And apparently many local trades were made to attain such a prized gift. Asena was going to Suva too and had many parcels full of goodies for her family. Loads of coconuts, pandanas ready to weave, and many bags of roughly carved kava bowls were ready to ship. It was exciting.

Offloading cargo.

We had been asked to keep watch for the boat and let the village know when it arrived. There were boys up on the highest ridges keeping watch too. But it was the sound of the engines that gave it away. It was loud. It took about an hour to unload the goods for Fulunga, along with passengers. The teamwork that goes into unloading 50 kg sacks of flour, rice, onions and other goods is wonderful to watch. I sat with Tau, Joe and Jasmine on a piece of cardboard and enjoyed the show.

Afterwards I headed back to Charisma on my paddleboard. Qele had pulled away from the shore just in front of me on the canoe. She had no help. Just Qele in her full length skirt with a slip underneath, goggles on her head, woven baskets at her feet, a fishing net on the bow and a pole in her hand with which to propel the canoe through the shallows. She was going fishing. Since I have previous fishing experience I was sure my services would be useful so I paddled up behind her and offered to help.

Qele and Ann setting the net.

Well, they caught one fish that time. Better move the net.

And so started the great canoe sinking adventure.

Qele is one of the most playful villagers and so I have always been drawn to her. I knew this was going to be fun. But this is about dinner too so somewhat serious. So I was doing my best to follow direction, not giggle too much and help sneak up on fish. Our first try netted three fish. And I do mean “net”. You paddle to a likely looking spot and slip off the canoe, in shallow water, with the net, make a semi-circle with the fifty foot net and then splash the water trying to drive fish into the net, all the while closing it. If you’re lucky, there’s fish!

We were set for a great day of fishing. Bob showed up on his paddleboard bearing my goggles and snorkel so now I was really ready to go! Our second attempt netted a 12 inch fish. Yay! Good teamwork. That’s when Qele decided I could ride on the canoe and we could put my paddleboard on the outrigger portion. Sure! If she wanted to pole me around the lagoon I was game. About 5 minutes after we loaded the paddleboard we realized that we needed to reposition it so that less weight was on the outrigger….which was sinking.

Well, we thought it was settled and Qele instructed me to climb aboard and off we went. Until 5 minutes later Qele cried, “We’re sinking!” And we both leapt off the canoe. Too late. The 2 ½ foot deep canoe had started filling, well truthfully – filled, with water. Oh no! Bail, bail! We were near a motu so we tucked under it and took turns bailing and holding the back of the canoe up out of the water. After 30 minutes we were making NO progress.

From our position, I could see the sandy beach where we had burned our trash (and where Mata – octopus woman – was sitting) and the anchorage with Charisma and Bob in his hammock. No one seemed concerned. I finally convinced Qele that we should float the outrigger with my paddleboard and get to the beach so we could get the water bailed. She suggested that I take the net and the fish in the baskets to the beach first. Off I went.

Qele had started trying to swim with the sinking canoe toward the shore as I got back to her. We quickly buoyed the outrigger with the paddleboard and swam across the channel to the beach. Slow going and finally I realized Qele was walking. And laughing because I was still swimming and tugging the canoe. Our plan worked. We pulled the canoe up on the sand and proceeded to bail. And bail and bail. I even went over to Mata and borrowed her bailing bottle (a used plastic bottle with the bottom cut out). As Qele and I pushed the canoe toward shore we called to Mata for help. She just sat and laughed. I think she knew we would be fine.

And we were. We finished bailing– I counted at least 500 scoops of water from each of us before the canoe started to float and we could continue fishing. Exhausting work. We did catch a dozen fish before I could tell both of us were exhausted. It was 4:30 by the time I returned to Charisma after almost six hours of fishing, tired, happy, glad to have had so much fun.

Thanks Qele!

Ann and I went into the village today, each with an agenda. Mine was to carve another bowl. The last one was such a success and so much fun, I couldn’t help myself. Ann’s was to do some more weaving with “her girls”.

After walking in, we split up. Ann stopped at Koro’s house for the weaving and I found Joe who was going to mentor me again. Joe was waiting under a big tree, so I sat down with him…to wait…for something. Not sure what, but that’s how it goes sometimes. Suddenly there was a big THUNK! and a coconut hit the ground. Looking up I was surprised to see a young boy about 20 feet in the crown of the tree knocking off coconuts. THUNK, THUNK, THUNK! Then he scampered down and the other boy scrambled up the next tree over. It took him about 10 seconds or less to go straight up – barefoot – the 20 or so feet into the crown of the tree and start knocking down coconuts. It was the mid-morning snack time. I heard Joe call something in Fijian to one of the men and thought I caught my name in there somewhere and sure enough after some sharp machete hacking one of the guys came over and handed me a lovely coconut with a nice one inch round hole in the top ready for drinking. Ahhh, it tasted good. And you know what? I wasn’t hungry for the rest of the day. In fact, I was surprised on getting back to Charisma at 1700 that I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, but still wasn’t hungry.

They use the young boys to climb the trees. Very difficult.

In the crown of the tree.

Anyway, carving my second bowl was a kick. I’m learning so much just watching how Joe wields the adze. Whack, whack, whack and then, “Your turn”. Tapitty, tap, tap from me then he says, “Change” and grabs the bowl back. It goes like that and after about four hours of carving we again have a lovely oval-shaped bowl that I’ll spend the next six or so hours sanding until it gleams. More fun that it sounds like.

Ann ended up at Mata’s house weaving baskets. Mata is the octopus lady (we have told her that’s our nickname for her and she laughs). She told Ann that she is going to take her octopus hunting. This I can’t wait to see!

Very experienced hands.

Oops, Lavinia does a "photo bomb"

OK, that's better. Ann with Mata and the completed basket.

Ann also mesmerized the children (as usual) as she brought in another Farkle game. She’s got them all playing it and they love it. Of course they like her more and follow her everywhere.

At the end of the day as we were getting ready to leave Mata’s house our friend Tai came by and told me to follow him to his plantation whereupon he dug up a half dozen cassava roots, cut a bunch of bananas and half dozen passion fruit. His neighbor Soku then came over and gave me a bunch of plantains. I think they all think that being here this long we must be running out of food. Even Mata asked Ann about our food supply and gave her a beautiful pumpkin that fit perfectly in the basket they wove. Well we are out of fresh food, so these gifts are much appreciated.

Sharing. Food, fun ,laughter, joy. It’s the Fijian way. We love it.

Sundays here are pretty low key. We go in to church at 1000, it’s over by 1100 at which time we go to our host family’s house for Sunday feast. No games, silliness or work is allowed. Once the feast is over we head back to Charisma – usually by around 1330 or so and spend the rest of the day on our projects.

Today for us was garbage burning day (OK, yeah, yeah, cruising is not all blue water adventuring – sometimes it’s even a bit pedestrian) . Even though we don’t have a lot of packaging it’s surprising how the rubbish adds up. We dinghied over to a deserted beach at low tide, dig a hole, start a good hot fire with sticks and such (OK and I admit to using some gasoline mixed with diesel to speed the process) and once it’s going well, start putting the garbage on the fire. We separate organic (which goes to the fishies and turtles) from plastic (which goes back to the mainland in itty bitty pieces- cut up by Ann- for proper disposal) and only burn paper type product. Once we’re done it’s all only ashes and after the tide comes in and out you’d never know we were there, much less our garbage. We’re getting pretty savvy here too as we are now able to get coconuts down off the trees and open them for drinking (with my machete) and the once drained, cut open for a snack off the meat. I think we might be going native here. Besides the coconuts, Ann weaves mats, I carve bowls and fish in the lagoon and we’re making dinner using the local veggies – cassava and pumpkin, although tonight we were pleased to add some eggplant and carrots courtesy of the care package sent by Bright Angel care of Caps Tres. Cruisers really take care of each other.

Tomorrow, more weaving (Monday is the big day for weaving here) and I’m going to start another bowl. The last one has been the talk of the village and I’d like to do one more. I have an idea of setting an inlaid sea shell in each of the four sides. We’ll see.

Today’s highlight was the village circumcision. Well, not really a highlight, but that was today’s big event.

The tough part is that it’s boys 8-12 years old. Yipes! If I were them I think I would have run away and hidden in a cave if I knew what was coming. These kids did pretty well though. There were a lot of stoic little boys in the village when we came in around 1300. The doctor had arrived on a longboat from the next island chain north of here and he lost no time setting up shop at the nurse’s hut. Ann and I (mostly me) couldn’t bear to watch or listen so we went for a long walk down the beach. When we came back a couple of hours later they were just finishing up. We saw a couple of very sad looking boys being taken away by their fathers in…wheelbarrows. Yup, that’s the equivalent to a stretcher in this part of the world. I should add that one young boy really toughed it out. He refused the wheelbarrow – said he would walk and then veerrry gingerly walked toward his house holding the gown they gave him (his mother’s sulu rapped around him and tied behind his neck), between two fingers out in front of him. Oh well, a local rite of passage.

The other thing we discovered today is the dreaded cassava root actually fries up in coconut oil (and salted) into a great potato chip like thingy. They eat a fair amount of cassava here and give it freely to “friends”. We of course have been gifted with the thing and don’t want to waste it but…it’s a little tough to love. If you take a potato, make it denser, starchier and blander you come close to the cassava. The villagers typically boil it into submission, which really doesn’t bring out any gastronomic value, and serve it at every meal. But, we now have a way to love it. Fried as above it tastes like something between potato chips and popcorn. Great with Charismas at sunset.

(Comments from Ann) Batai, the nurse, repeatedly offered to let me come watch the circumcisions. Really? He said I could photograph it if I wanted. On behalf of my two boys, I respectfully passed. And thanked the US medical system for circumcising my boys in the hospital before I got them home!

By Ann

Turtles are a big deal around the world. After all, they are endangered. Heck, people tattoo them all over their bodies. I have always felt that loving turtles was a “band wagon” thing. You know, everyone loves turtles so I should too. I have resisted. I am always delighted when I see one in the anchorage or swimming under my paddle board but that was the best I could do. Today I love turtles.

We were sitting in the cockpit with our morning coffee when we heard Graham, off of Maunie, hailing a sailboat outside the Fulunga passage. We are always interested in new arrivals but today the new arrivals were much more important. Why? Because Linda and Bob on Bright Angel were shining again. We have been hoping they would come join us in Fulunga (a repeat destination for them too) but many issues, including weather have kept them away. They have offered to ferry “copious amounts of beer and wine” – exact quote – to Fulunga for us to extend our stay not to mention fresh veggies. Another good reason to wish for their arrival. But weather has kept them away.

Meanwhile a few days ago in Savusavu, where Bright Angel currently resides, several other boats were heading to Fulunga. Our Bright Angels took advantage of this fact and packed a care package for Charisma! We heard about it on the Bula net (a cruiser’s radio net) last night. They asked about a specific boat, Cap Tres, that we heard from yesterday’s new arrivals, had given up bashing to Fulunga and headed to Vanua Balavu instead. That’s when Bright Angel Bob told us about their precious cargo. We were thrilled by their thoughtfulness and were heartsick that it looked like Cap Tres had been unable to make the delivery.

So this morning as we listened to Graham hail the sailboat off of Fulunga we both looked at each other wistfully wishing it was Cap Tres. In fact, Bob turned to me and said, “Pray woman! Make it so!” And I prayed. And imagined wine, beer and fresh vegetables that were not cassava root. Where is the turtle in all of this, you ask? Well, as I finished my prayer I looked up and straight into the eyes of a turtle about 10 feet off of Charisma. It was talking to me. Telling me good things….”Yes, that is Cap Tres!”, the turtle said. And he was right!!!!

Yay! Beer and wine (and some food). Thank you Bright Angel Bob and Linda!

As I told the village chief this afternoon when I took in pictures of the canoe launch, the turtles in Fulunga have acted as special messengers for me, often giving me reassurance while moving anchorages. The chief liked that idea. And we loved our care package! Wine, beer, eggs, cucumbers, tomatoes, garlic, ginger, smoked salmon, eggplant, carrots and cabbage. Happy dance on Charisma! We love you, Bright Angel!

Vinaka vaka levu! Many thanks!

From Bob: Yes Ann went into the village by herself today while I worked on a slide show we’re putting together for the village. She went in by herself on her paddleboard. Nice. When she got back I asked how it went. Her comment: “Oh, I had kava with the chief”.

By Ann

Okay, I know that yesterday was pretty special. We worked on the pictures today so that we could put together a one-page collage to give Mele, the canoe artist, and one to the chief of his village. Our friends on Maunie said goodbye to the village and specifically the chief and he was very happy to hear about the canoe launch and wished he could see some pictures. We pulled together some great shots (there were many) and Maunie printed the page so we could share them. Many thanks.

Looking through the pictures we realized that verbal description hardly describes the feat. Seeing the angles that were required to get to the canoe through the trees to the water were amazing. Some parts were steep and out of control with everyone warned to move aside; others flat but through lava rocks with crevasses that men stood in up to their hips. The “rollers” made a path through these tortuous areas. The log rollers creaked and cracked as the weight of the great canoe was dragged across them. The teamwork of dragging was great to watch too. The playfulness of Fulunga came through again. At one point one of the older men in the village hitched a ride, surfing along the canoe that 10 younger guys were tugging across the flatter areas. Everyone squealed and cheered.

And then the celebration afterwards! Kava flowed. Bob stepped into the kava party, I stayed back with the women who had no idea what an accomplishment this was. Women are not included. This is when I learned that it really was a male-event. So glad I didn’t know that in advance.

Walking back through the village to go back to Charisma a fun thing happened….like I said. We met two of the girls from the second village, 20 minutes down the trail. These are two of the girls who were our companions on every beach walk last year. We have not had time to go for a beach walk yet this year so have only seen them at school. They we so excited to see us, their pulangi friends, back again. Qali (age 12) and Taubale (age 11) -I made them spell their names so I would not forget – were on their way to the store. They carried two small kava bowls (without the final finishing work complete) and a tin container with them. When we asked them what they were up to they explained that they were going to the store to get food for dinner. Yes, they were going to trade in the two bowls, receive credit and then buy some rice and noodles. Not the normal grocery store run we know, but typical of Fulunga.

We promised a beach walk with the girls next week when they are out of school for two weeks on break.

That was yesterday’s fun thing.

Today was a calm, low wind day….perfect for paddle boards. Of course we had to pull ourselves away from watching the two turtles that were swimming about 30 yards off of Charisma. Run, hide turtles…don’t be dinner!

We finally pulled away and jumped on the boards and took off. We paddled for about three hours. We went back toward the sand spit anchorage and our private beach. It was beautiful. The tide was low so the beach was pristine…until we walked on it. Don’t you love being able to put the first marks on a pristine beach! We found some coconuts hanging low on a tree and grabbed them. And in best “Survivor” fashion we peeled back some of the green husk using a seashell as a knife and tied them to our paddle boards for a future treat!

On the way back Bob called out that he thought he saw a manta ray and turned to his left. I slowly and stealthily followed. We thought we were being very stealthy until we realized we had just snuck up on a big underwater rock! Oh well. Onward. We were in the shallows again, about 2 feet deep, so I was kind of holding my breath to make myself lighter. I always fear I will scrape some coral and pop my board. And sure enough there was some coral ahead. As I attempted to maneuver around it the coral moved! And a graceful, but startled 20″ turtle swam directly under my board and over to, the right underneath Bob’s board as well! SO cool!

From Bob: For dinner I dug deep into our refrigerator for a couple of vacuum packed steaks we bought six weeks ago in Savusavu. I didn’t really have much hope for them, but it’s very cold at the bottom of the fridge and lo and behold, they looked pretty good. Two rib eye steaks. There was a little darkened meat that I trimmed off, but most of it looked really good and they smelled fine (this is my final test – if it smells at all “off” it goes to the fishies). So tonight I BBQ’d these two steaks with some sweet potato that Tai gave us from his garden (sliced, coated with olive oil and salt and pepper).

I was a little worried that the steaks were going to taste more than well aged and asked Ann what she thought. She took a bite and swooned. I said: “They really taste OK?” Her response; “Remember, I’ve been eating chiton”.

Look it up and you’ll see what she means.

Today we were so fortunate to have experienced something that few non-native people have seen or done.

Heading into a path hacked out of the mangroves.

A couple weeks ago we heard that one of the villagers (Mele) was considering building a new outrigger canoe. This is a big deal since the only way to build such a canoe out here where there are few modern tools is the traditional way. You fell a tree, hollow it out while still in the jungle, then drag it out to the water. Well, guess what? Turns out that’s what Mele has been working on for months out on a remote part of the island. Today was the day it was to be dragged out and towed over to the beach where he can work on finishing it. And we, along with the three other boats that are anchored here, were invited to attend.

Mele getting ready to pull his canoe out of the jungle.

The event started around 0900. Ann and I were sitting in the cockpit after breakfast enjoying a cup of coffee when we saw some of the villagers gathering on the beach. We jumped in the dinghy and by the time we got close to the beach, they were already paddling out and waved for us to follow. Out of the cove we’re anchored in, around to the right in the next cove we went a couple hundred meters then turned in toward the mangroves. As we were approaching shore all I could think was, “Oh no, we’re not going to fight our way through that!” Just then as we got within about 10 meters, we could see a narrow opening cut through the thick roots and branches. It was just high enough and wide enough to let a dinghy through at high tide. We followed in about 30 meters to a little pool where we tied the four little dinghies to the trees and we able to step onto a rock shelf then into the jungle. Wow, what a way to start!

We immediately set out on a thin trail. It was obvious that Mele had been trodding up and down as he’s been working on the canoe, but it was very thin and not used other than for that purpose. We were on an area of the island not often visited. As we worked our way inland and uphill, we could see that he had started felling small trees to use as “rollers” to get the canoe out. These were typically about 4 inches thick and cut about six feet long and placed on the trail about every 15 feet. Hmm, this is getting interesting.

Mele showing how he carved it with an axe and an adze.

The adze.

We progressed up in a single line – about 6 palangis and 6 Fijians until about ½ mile inland and a couple hundred feet up, I heard a hush up ahead and exclamations of surprise and amazement. As Ann and I climbed over the last bit of volcanic rock we were scrambling up, we saw it. A huge log that had been hewn to the shape of a canoe sat in the jungle just ahead of us amidst a pile of wood chips.

The canoe was carved from a single tree, the lower trunk of which was easily three feet in diameter. The bows were gracefully carved and the inside was roughly hollowed out. Mele showed us how he had used an axe and an adze to carve the tree, one blow at a time chipping some wood here, some there for months. It was 25 feet long and weighed about 1000 pounds (that was the consensus guess among us – it took almost a dozen people to move it).

So, here’s this amazing sight sitting ½ mile in the jungle away from the water. How are we going to get it into its new element? Well, you drag it. And no one brought a rope! No problem, Mele said it would be better to drag it with traditional rope. He cut a large tree vine. It was about 30 feet long and 1 inch thick. Then he made a couple notches inside the bow of the canoe and cut a small tree branch to fit athwartships between the notches, around which he tied the vine with a double overhand knot. I looked at it and thought, “Yeah, right. I’m not pulling that too hard just to see it break and all of us fall down the hill”. But you know it held all the way out.

The vine we used to pull it through the jungle and the knot.

So, how do you turn a 25 foot canoe in the jungle? You cut down the small trees around it so you can turn it downhill, that’s how. Once turned downhill with the path lined with the aforementioned logs that the canoe can roll over, eight of us pulled the rope and a couple pushed with one guy on the back end who kind of rocked it and steered it and off we went. Sometimes it was a little scary as the 1000 or more pound beast starting coming down on us on its own volition, but most of the time we pulled as hard as we could to get it going. On the steeper parts we looped the vine uphill from the canoe to keep it from going down too fast. After 20 or 30 meters, we would stop, go back and get the “rollers”, walk them up in front of the canoe and start the process all over again. About half way to the water, reinforcements showed up. Fresh and ready to go the new recruits brought lots of laughter, teamwork and even singing and by noon we made it to the water.

Once in the water, we all towed the new roughed out canoe back to the beach where Mele will work on it for some time yet completing the shaping, adding topsides, a deck (he’s already started carving it back up on the hill and will have to drag that down sometime too) and finally an outrigger.

Getting the beast moving.

Pulling it across the log rollers.

Moving the log rollers.

The final yards through the mangroves into the bay.

Now it's time for all the detail work like a deck and outrigger.

Of course once this was all done, everyone returned to the village for what else? Kava. Yes, there will be lots of kava consumed this night to mark such an auspicious event. We even brought a bundle in and presented it to Mele to thank him for allowing us to be part of this day as well as to bless his new canoe. He was very pleased and clapped his hands three times which is how they say “thank you” here in Fiji.

You read about this stuff in museums and books but to take part of it we agreed was stunning. We are all in a bit of a haze just trying to process what we just witnessed – or rather – were a part of. (We found out in the village that only the men get to partake in this activity…oops, no one told Ann-good thing!)

That’s what the sign said until Ann pointed out the little error. It was Adam and Cindy’s (from Bravo) 24th anniversary and the whole village put together a party to celebrate (complete with the sign which was corrected). Actually a bunch of folks from the other two villages showed up as well. Fijians love a party.

Adam and Cindy wearing the ceremonial tapa cloth (and corrected sign in the background).

First the kava. Lots of kava. Then there was lots of food. No party is complete without a feast and this one had the requisite mounds of great food. There was also singing. We never tire of the beautiful Fijian songs. Ann and I stayed until after dark enjoying the food, drink, singing and great camaraderie with our fellow cruisers and the village. Ann knows every single person here by name as well as their birthdays and who they are all related to. (I know most of their names, which for me is pretty good). We stayed until after dark and fortunately Cindy brought an extra headlamp and loaned it to us as it was pitch dark going back the trail. It’s still cloudy today and the moon wasn’t up yet as we headed back across the cove back to Charisma.

We went into the village earlier in the day so I could finish the bowl I’ve been making. I put about five hours the last couple days into sanding it smooth and shiny and when I got to the carving area (where the men were waiting for me) and pulled it out there was quite a reaction. Probably best summed up by Tai who said; “Bob, you sand better than we do!” That was the compliment I was hoping for. I didn’t want to disappoint them with a shoddy job. I pointed out in return that I wasn’t making this bowl to sell and could afford to spend lots of time sanding it whereas they of course make their bowls for commerce and have to balance time and money. Anyway, Joe (my mentor and host) was impressed. Then Tai said the next step is to burnish the wood. They use a boar’s tusk with which to do this. Tai took the bowl from me, someone handed him a boar’s tusk and he then spent the next 15 or so minutes gently and intently rubbing the wood with the boar’s tusk to give it an incredible polish. That’s also part of how they work. Everyone just naturally does their part and by working on my bowl Tai was actually complimenting me by wanting to be part of it. It is so shiny it doesn’t need any oil.

Burnishing my bowl with a boar's tooth.

Once suitably rubbed down and shining like a finished bowl, Joe took out a pencil and free-handed a couple lines that served as the basis for the design that we were to spend the next hour or two carving onto the inch and a half lip of the bowl. When I saw him free-hand it and then take a “v” shaped carving tool and start in on it I almost fainted. After all the work, I was initially worried that one little slip and it would be gouged beyond repair. Then I remembered where we were and who was working on this. They know what they are doing and sure enough, he expertly outlined the carving area. He would do a line around the outside of the lip and then say, “Your turn”. I would then do a parallel line around the piece and on it would go. Joe would do a part and then say, “Change”, and I would do a bit. In that way I can lay claim to having done a significant part of the bowl, but also learned how to do it along the way. Really fun! And one of the fun parts is that it’s getting a lot of attention from the other carvers in the village. I am getting “nods” of approval. Makes me proud.

Here's the almost completed bowl showing the carving on the lip.

The bowl carving team with "their" bowl.

So between Ann’s quilting and weaving and now my carving we really feel a part of live here. It’s really fun learning another culture from the inside out.

Oh, one bit of sadness. We are now officially out of wine. Yes, we’re not sure how we’re going to survive, but we’re hoping to “suck it up” and tough it out. Don’t know how we’re going to make it unless one of our friends comes through with reinforcements.

Here’s hoping.

We woke up to such a change in the weather from yesterday’s sunny day. It’s been raining off and on all day with blustery wind in the mid-twenties. Kind of like going from summer to winter in one day. It is winter here actually, but we don’t expect it to actually act that way! Hopefully tomorrow will be a nicer day as right now it’s cold and wet. Very un-Fiji like.

Ann with Penina and her new dress.

We did make it into church though. Magically (I would say – Ann of course has other ideas) the rain stopped long enough for us to jump in the dinghy and make it to the beach without a downpour. In church one of the speakers called us “People of the sea”. Has a ring to it I think. The rest was in Fijian so I have no idea what was being said other than they thanked us for coming to their service.

Sunday lunch after church has a special quality to it. The villagers spend all day Saturday getting food and preparing it while early Sunday is spent finishing it. It’s a big deal. We were invited today to go to Mata’s for lunch. Mata is the woman we spoke of a couple of days ago who spent the entire day hunting octopus. She heard how much we liked it and got another one and invited us to join her. She was thanking us (really Ann in particular) because Ann helped her daughter-in-law make a new dress for her granddaughter, Penina. Such a thoughtful gesture but as things go here we couldn’t accept. You have to lunch with your host family, so we were spoken for as it were. She understood but said she would send some food instead. That’s kind of the fun part of Sunday lunch. You sit down and your host spreads all the food she has made, out on the tablecloth (on the floor, no tables here). Then as she gets ready to dish the food out people start appearing at the door (which is always open – I’m not sure there’s even a door there) with dishes of food. Well, our octopus showed up, delivered by lovely Penina in her beautiful new red dress that she proudly wore to church, and was still wearing it later as she was escorting us back down the path to the beach. Our host, Tau, in turn sent a dish of lovo baked cassava back to Mata. And so it went. There were probably four others who showed up at the door with a cooked fish or something and they left with either a dish of baked cassava or pulisami. Crowd-sourcing on its most basic level.

Tau said that at the end of the day at dinner time, some of the houses will have run out of food and people will drop by asking if there are any leftovers (which at many houses there are) so none of the food gets wasted and everyone eats even if they weren’t lucky that week and didn’t catch a fish.

Village life at its best.