(by Ann)

Thank goodness that Bob wrote the blog last night. I was exhausted. Emotionally and physically. The song that we sang for our goodbye with John and Lisa spoke of “unwinding, down in Fulunga…” Really? When did we have time for unwinding. The last week has been incredibly fun but non-stop fun. And we aren’t as young as we used to be! Of course I would not have missed a minute of it.

Before the tears started flowing we had an evening of fun and silliness. I found myself jumping from the “kava circle” to the women further in the back of the hut. I would choose one or two women and go sit next to them just absorbing the moment. I looked around the room and was thrilled that I could count these wonderful folks as my friends and honored that they returned the favor. I was also honored that Chief Taniele stayed the whole time, also not wanting to miss any of it.

And there was a lot of fun going on. After we showed the slide show, twice, and sang our song we joined the kava circle. Lisa and Bob let go of their ukuleles and our Fijian friends started showing their musical skills. The men who carved were particularly interested in Bob’s ukulele from the Cook Islands. It does not look like any of the ones they have seen. One of my favorite images of the night will always be Cowboy Joe (one of our nicknames for one of the “joes” on the island) making that ukulele sing! We had never even seen Joe join in with the musicians but boy could he play. And with his huge smile, it was a treat.

The musicians know quite a few English songs but of course our favorites are the Fijian songs. And the big hit this night was “Vula Toa”. The white rooster. The best part of this song is that it screams for dancing and we did. I never would have believed that my husband could imitate a rooster so well! Very impressive…even Chief Taniele thought so. And when the song segued into other animal imitations the room was in a constant uproar. I love being part of a group that can let go and play. Wish I had not been given a kangaroo to imitate though!

Throughout the evening my little friend, Seta (the darling 2-year old I wrote about in an earlier blog and claimed as mine when a new cruiser asked) was dancing around the room. Always coming back to “Pu Ann” for applause. The cutest part was when he would pronounce Bob’s name. In Fijian the letter B has an implied M before it. So Bob should actually be pronounced Mbomb. And Seta called him Tua Mbomb all night. Tua means grandfather.

Bob spoke of the incredibly moving “Fijian Goodbye Song”. Tau translated for us but it was such a blur. We were facing the men of Fulunga…you know, the guys that don’t cry, right? Wow. Not so. I will never forget our friend Saimone’s face. Imagine James Earl Jones, bigger and taller, with tears streaming down his face as he sang. I knew that Saimone was a softy but this was such raw emotion. He let the tears make their path down his cheeks for a few minutes and finally had to use his t-shirt to try to dry his face. Others could not look at him. I was awash in his friendship and love. The Fijian word is “veilomani”. Very powerful emotions washed over all of us.

Today Joe, Tau, Jasmine and Samu (our host family) brought the many gifts that were given to us and Orcinius to the shed at the anchorage. This of course meant another set of goodbyes. Tau refused to say the word. Joe was silent and very sad. Jasmine was crying and trying to smile through it. We were all trying to hold back the tears. Some were more successful than others. Fortunately there is a wonderful word in Fijian…Sota tale, which more or less means “until we meet again”. There were many “sota tales” given to ease the parting.

And just as we got ourselves back in the dinghy to return to the boats we heard my name being called. Mata, (who we joking call “Octopus Woman” – even to her face), was not letting us get away without another very long warm, sobbing hug. It is so very hard to leave these people. But we have moved to the sandspit anchorage and spent the day cleaning up Charisma, stowing gifts, clearing the decks, and preparing to exit the pass first thing tomorrow morning on the high tide – on to other islands.

Final, final, goodbye.

I do leave with one regret… I was not able to go octopus hunting with Mata. A reason to return?

Perhaps.