Nubu, Vanua Levu

[Kyle]As expected, our northbound leg to pass Udu Point on our way to the northern shore of Venua Levu was, uh, boisterous. As we left the flat water of Albert Cove/Motaua, the wind protection of the anchorage decreased. The fringing reef also receded to the northeast, which allowed more and more of the open ocean swell to get through. We eventually ended up going nice and fast, with hardly any sail up at all, across three-meter seas. The wind wasn't bad, because we were reefed down for even more, just in case. Beam seas like that can be especially annoying, though.

At about the halfway mark, on our transit of the gap between Rabi and Udu Point, a four-plus-meter wave broke right when it hit us. I was able to turn and duck away from it, but I still got hit in the back with a couple of buckets-worth of cold water, which also soaked the seat. The wave filled the cockpit to ankle-depth.

Since we were in the tropics, I was not dressed in foul weather gear. I was dressed for a picnic in the park. Technically, I was dressed like someone at the picnic who had been thrown in the pool as a prank. My reasoning is that it is warm outside and that stuff dries quickly. If it doesn't, it's easier to change.

The problem was that since the boat was continuously being coated in salt water, I didn't want to track the wet outside into the nice, dry inside to change outfits, particularly since I'm probably going to end up getting wet again anyway.

The temperature was in the high 20s Celsius, so it was nice and warm out, but the thirty-knot winds made for quite a windchill! I shivered my way through the next half hour until I was starting to feel dry again. Wham! Another bloody wave would resoak me! I know intellectually that waves don't have agency, but they totally do seem like they enjoy messing with me sometimes. After a few more wet/dry cycles, I was legitimately cold-soaked and shivering almost uncontrollably. Fun officially over, let's get this thing over with!

We rounded the reef three miles from Udu Point Light, which is as close as you can get, turned downwind, and had the reverse experience from leaving Rabi. In twenty minutes, we were sliding along a flat sea with only a quarter of the jib out.

We pulled into our planned anchorage at Nubu. It was exposed to the wind, which was coming along the coast. I was worried the anchorage would be uncomfortable, but it is surrounded so extensively by drying reefs that the deep basin had completely flat water.

Entering the pass into the protected waters at Nubu

Once we were settled, we got a message from Amelting Heart, asking about the anchorage. They had left Rabi a few hours after us and were hoping to make it to Nubu by nightfall.

They didn't make it. We spotted them on the eastern horizon just before sunset. Their sails were down and they were motoring into an anchorage there. In the middle of the subsequent dark, cloudy nights, their distant anchor light served as the best way to find Begonia's orientation.

Nubu is a convenient stop, but doesn't otherwise have too much in the way of tourist attractions. The two things to do are snorkel, which is hazy and meh, and go see the waterfall up the creek. My check on the anchor and Begonia's immediate vicinity satisfied the first to the degree that Maryanne was convinced to not bother getting wet in the first place.

Then there is the waterfall. The river is blocked by a mudbank at low tide, so we were up early for the morning high tide to have a look.

As a waterfall, it's not particularly impressive – just a brook pouring over a few meters of rock.

At the bottom, we left the dinghy and walked upriver along the banks. This was the best bit. A series of minor waterfalls made an interconnecting chain of deep swimming holes that would be a perfect place to spend the upper half of the tide on a sunny day. We certainly thought about it, but the chill of the early morning made us less than enthusiastic about the idea. Maryanne and I contented ourselves with rock-hopping our way up the creek until we were stopped by sheer faces on both sides. With the tide falling the entire time, we were aware we needed to keep it moving to avoid being stranded. We were back at Bagonia by noon.

Our trip up the river to the stream

A little while later, we could see Amelting Heart heading our way with sails up. We thought they would surely continue on, but Andrew called us on the radio to tell us they were planning on coming in for the night. After giving him the rundown, he and Isabelle said they would come over, but decided to try to make it up the river beforehand.

"Okay, you'd better get going, before the tide drops too much!"

They mostly made it. Just as we were starting to get worried that they might be stuck up there and were figuring out what we would be able to do about it, they appeared at the entrance. There were a couple of spots where Andrew had to lift his outboard and punt through the goo, but they made it to deep water after all. Then we were finally able to commence our planned evening of cards, drinks, and stories.

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Anchorage location at Nubu >> On google maps

Rabi Island

[Kyle]Since Begonia was on a mooring at Paradise Taveuni Resort, I had really been hoping to release the lines and depart under sail.

Just before sunset the previous night, a boat came in and picked up the one right behind us. The whole time we have been here, we haven't seen a mooring go unoccupied for more than eight hours. That boat was a little close to be confident we could gain steerageway before drifting into it, so we ended up using the engines after all.

Our sail started out well. Winds coming over Taveuni passed over the ridgeline and descended to the anchorage as a twenty-knot breeze. With lots of reefs tucked in, we shot northeastward towards our destination at Rabi Island.

That lasted for about an hour, until the terrain to windward got too high. Taveuni has some pretty high mountains (Taveuni is an elongated shield volcano, its peak reaches 1,241 m). Once we were in the lee of that part of the island, we got lots of wind, no wind, and backdrafts going completely the wrong direction. Eventually, to keep from arriving after dark, we had to resort to using an engine to keep moving.

Of course, as soon as the thing was warmed up, the wind returned. Then it picked up as we peeled away from Taveuni and headed through the gap between the Venua Levu mainland and Rabi Island.

We were expecting it to die off again in the lee of Rabi, but it never did completely. Instead, we had gusts and lulls that had Begonia's speed bouncing back and forth between four and nine knots. As we did, another boat, Amelting Heart, left an anchorage ahead of us and also headed for our planned two-boat anchorage at Albert Cove/Motaua, where there was already another boat at anchor. They were bouncing between three and six knots, which wouldn't be slow enough for us to beat them in.

The anchorage at Motaua is fairly large, but the sandy part is very deep, requiring all of our chain and thus a big swinging circle. The anchorage also has weird gusts arriving as downhill blasts from every direction, so it is not reasonable to assume all boats will swing in the same manner. The best thing to do is make sure there is no overlap whatsoever by being at least two hundred meters from the nearest vessel.

The original boat, Otama, had the best spot. Amelting Heart got the 'other' decent spot, which is deeper. That left us to try to fill remaining space or find another anchorage altogether.

We made our first attempt on the north side of Amelting Heart, between them and the reef. Maryanne let all our chain out and then we waited a bit to see how Begonia rode. It seemed fine, but if we swung too much, we might end up being uncomfortably too close to Amelting Heart or the reef. That wasn't going to be good for getting a restful night's sleep. After a while, Maryanne announced that she didn't like it and wanted to move.

We pulled everything back up and moved halfway between Amelting Heart and Otama, where Begonia would have no chance of encountering either. The only hazard in our circle was a shallow reef, helpfully marked by a buoy that was dead upwind of us at the far end of our circle. We dropped our anchor on the edge of a sand shelf at seventeen meters and set it. Begonia ended up sitting in thirty-five meters at the center of the basin, with a big loop of catenary in the chain for cushioning the load on the anchor.

With the current wind direction, our spot ended up being really good. The gusts hitting Begonia varied in direction by 180 degrees, but they generally didn't last long enough to move us around much. We pointed everywhere from northwest to southeast, but we never drifted more than twenty meters from our original spot. That was frustrating for getting the solar panels set right, but otherwise, very reassuring.

Amelting Heart, on the other hand, seemed to be anchored right in the middle of a permanent eddy formed between competing winds. Every time we looked at them, they would always be pointed a completely different direction from before. They seemed to go through a complete circle about ten times every hour. That made us even happier that we had moved.

Rabi (pronounced "Rambi" because, Fijian) has an interesting history. Unlike the rest of Fiji, where the main two demographic groups are ethnic Fijians and Indo-Fijians, Rabi is almost entirely populated by Banabans, descendants from Ocean Island, in Kiribati/Gilbert Islands. They arrived in two different waves.

The first was after the Second World War. The Japanese captured most of the Gilbert Islands, and the Banabans were taken to various internment camps for the duration. Once the war was over, they were released, but not allowed to go back to their home island, so the "helpful" British government purchased Rabi as a place for them to resettle, offering them land and houses. They made good on the land, but the houses turned out to be tents and only enough rations to survive for two months.

Many years later, in the 1970s, tremendously overzealous phosphate mining made Ocean Island uninhabitable and second wave of Banabans were removed to Rabi for resettlement.

Now, the primary language and culture on Rabi is Gilbertese. All residents have dual citizenship with Fiji.

Motaua does not have a permanent village, although we met one brother/sister pair who live there seasonally as farmers. It also seems to be a popular spot for picnics and overnight camping for locals from other villages that are looking for a getaway. When we arrived, a big group was having a church barbeque.

Heading ashore at Motawa (known to the cruisers as Albert Cove) on Rabi Island, we were greeted by some friendly local kids

We went ashore on the next morning's low tide for a walk. Maryanne and I had intended to join a trail that is reputed to go over the island to the bay opposite. None of the people we encountered knew much about it. We found a likely candidate path, but quickly lost it again in the thick jungle beyond the beach. Eventually, we gave up and decided to console ourselves with a beach walk.

Once we got to the end, we found that the tide was low enough that we could keep going for miles on the exposed, dead top of the fringing reef. We went as far as we dared, knowing the tide was starting to rise again, before turning back to the safety of the main beach. Then we filled out the rest of our time by walking the more accessible reef in the other direction.

There was plenty of beach/coast line to walk and explore at low tide Just at our turnaround point, we saw three people coming from the opposite direction. One of them turned out to be Andrew, the owner of Amelting Heart. He explained the spelling of the name by pointing out that his boat is built by Amel. Ah! With him was his crew, Isabelle, and a local man who had guided them over the trail Maryanne and I lost earlier. The tide was so low that they all decided to walk back by going around the intervening headland along the reef.

While the crew from Amelting Heart were off collecting useful flotsam and jetsam, the local visitors were having a grand game of volleyball

Andrew is an electrical engineer, originally from England, who recently bought his boat with an aim to work half the year in New Zealand, and spend the other half on the boat in Fiji. Isabelle, who is French, has been bopping around for years as crew on different boats.

Andrew admits to having a few compatibility missteps with crew, but he and Isabelle seem to have a good rapport. Maryanne and I had initially assumed they were a couple, since they finish each other's sentences and occasionally bicker over minor things. They both assured us that that was not the case, but neither of them seemed the least bit offended by our mistake.

The next day, Maryanne and I had a good, long snorkel of the huge tongue of reef forming one side of the entrance to the bay. There was plenty of variety to keep us entertained. Afterward, we were expecting to meet up with Amelting Heart, but their dinghy was gone.

A few hours later, Andrew invited everyone to the beach for a sunset picnic. Maryanne made some food and we were the first dinghy ashore. When Andrew did arrive, he dropped off some stuff and then returned to the boat to pick up Isabelle. When they returned, he announced his plan to try baking bread with cassava flour in a traditional earth oven, which he had never attempted before. This was news to everybody, but the local fishermen/farmers having an overnight campout on the beach took it in stride and started two fires – one for regular cooking and one for the oven. In the meantime, Andrew and Isabelle filled us in on their day ashore.

In what seemed like very Begonia-like fashion, they had originally set off for a quick stroll, intending to get back in an hour or so, so they could start cooking. Then they got lost and spent hours bushwacking their way through the jungle before coming across terrain that they decided was too treacherous for them to continue. Then they spent hours bushwacking their way back. They got to their dinghy half an hour before sunset, still fully intending to make it to the beach for dinner.

To their credit, the local guys adapted to Andrew's plan well. They were there not only to camp and fish, but also to harvest kava crops they have there to take to market. They pounded a big portion for everybody and then made space for us all in their clearing, where we could form a circle around the bowl to imbibe while we wait for the food.

An evening ashore - Kyle "helps" pound the Kava, and the cooking fire is prepared

Sarah, another American, who was there with her Australian husband, Hayden, on Otama, kept saying that Maryanne and I looked familiar to her. It did seem to us like we must have met her before, but when we started comparing histories, we could find no overlap at all. We must have two of those faces…

They bought Otama in 2021 and have spent most of the time since bouncing between Fiji and New Zealand, while Maryanne and I were nowhere near either place.

A long while later, while telling Andrew a story about something that happened to us in Australia, Sarah asked us where we had been there. I was going through the list when it hit her.

"You were the boat that came to Gove, in the Northern Territory, in 2020 during Covid!" She continued, "We didn't have a boat then, but I was the Manager at the Gove Boat Club."

That's when it hit us smack in the face. "Of course! That was you!" It all made sense now. We didn't recognize them, since we didn't recognize the BOAT.

Sarah had been so kind and generous during our visit to Gove. She kept saying she hoped she wasn't too rude to us then, she had a lot of stressful things going on in her life at once: Covid, an international move, searching for a boat…

"Are you kidding? You were the best!"

What must she be like on a good day?

More locals arrived later, until we ended up with over a dozen people sat around the kava bowl. One guy even sang us a song about his people crossing the sea to their new paradise home. It certainly seemed like it.

Maryanne and I stayed up as late as we could, but still didn't make it long enough to see how Andrew's bread fared. As we fell asleep, we could still hear music and laughter wafting its way in from the beach.

Not surprisingly, we were up late the next morning. We emerged to find the entire group of Banabans long gone already. Later, replacements came, and Begonia was visited by three very giggly young girls who were only partly in control of their kayak. They had a great time bouncing their way past us and ducking though the tunnel between our hulls. Maryanne handed them all lollipops, which only increased their delight.

We certainly would have enjoyed staying for more time, but our next leg to the north coast of Vanua Levu was going to be a long one. With a day of strong winds that were forecast to not be in too bad a direction, we would need to use them to move on.

A beautiful place to visit for us and the locals

And of course, some snorkelling

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Anchorage location at Albert Cove/Motawa, Rabi Island >> On google maps

Paradise Resort, Taveuni

[Kyle]Our 135 nautical mile sail from Oneata to Taveuni was an easy overnighter in moderate beam winds. We made good enough speed that we were able to arrive just before the commencement of a day of heavy rains. At the Taveuni Paradise Resort, we were even able to pick up the last of their complimentary moorings. We were later to learn how lucky we were for doing so. The last boat occupying it had departed in the same day's pre-dawn darkness. Those moorings rarely sit idle for long.

A couple of hours later, as we were tidying up from the passage, a woman paddled up in a kayak and handed us a complimentary bag of fresh cinnamon rolls with Begonia's name on it from the resort's on-site bakery. They do this every day for every boat in the anchorage, whether they are on a mooring or not. That is a nice touch. From the smile on the woman's face, it was pretty clear that cinnamon roll delivery is one of the best jobs at the resort. I mean, what person wouldn't greet her arrival with an equally big smile?

Many resorts don't allow them to come ashore to their premises (or sometimes even to anchor in view); Paradise was especially cruiser friendly!

Maryanne and I decided that our first day at the resort would be dispensing with chores. Begonia's water tanks needed topping up, requiring several round trips with jugs in the dinghy, and Maryanne was hoping both for some fresh veggies from the resort's farm (which it turned out no longer exists), and also to do some laundry and generally get the lay of the land. We decided to split up, mostly so I could have more room in the dinghy for water containers.

When I was done, I was looking forward to relaxing at a table overlooking the water with Maryanne, possibly over umbrella drinks.

Alas, I was too late. Maryanne was already in the thick of it with a couple of other sailors when I climbed up the stairs from the wharf to meet her. I was politely excused to resume my Man Day while she hung out with 'the ladies' for a while longer. What the hell? I like sitting around talking about my feelings way more than she does...

Fine. I had been putting off my routine check of each engine's impellers for a while. I guess now is as good a time as any.

It turned out to be good that I did. One of them had three missing blades (out of six). I had to dig out and install a new one. I got everything back together just in time to make it to our pre-arranged dinner date at the restaurant, where I got the look that said, "What have you been DOING all day?"

Not talking about my feelings, that's what.

Over dinner, Maryanne asked me if I wouldn't mind if she went SCUBA diving the next day, again without me. What am I, a monster? Of course I don't mind. I kinda had a feeling that might be coming.

Way back when we met, Maryanne was a very high-level diver/instructor. For a lot of reasons, she has since let her practice lapse, but diving remains one of her great passions. Lately, she has been worried that recurring ear infections would make it difficult for her to equalize the pressure in her ears as she descends, and so has told herself that she was content snorkeling as a consolation. {Maryanne: SCUBA diving often costs $100's, with equipment hire and boat/guide fees, and if I paid that and then couldn't even get down I'd be really frustrated}

Here, at Taveuni, it wouldn't cost us too much for her to rent some gear and try an easy shore dive. If she has ear trouble, we aren't out too much. If she doesn't, she gets to dive again.

That was fine. After replacing the impeller, I knew I hadn't finished the job properly. The prudent thing was to get into the cooling system and find the missing blades to make sure they're not blocking the heat exchanger. I would probably be good for me to have some Maryanne-free time to swear properly, without the danger of her inadvertently taking offense.

Well, both things worked out just great. I found my missing blades, which I forensically matched with the rest of the old impeller to make sure there were no stray bits. Maryanne's ears were just fine, which allowed her to spend the better part of an hour beneath the surface. There she could enjoy the luxury of looking at various little critters (remember, she also has a marine biology degree) without having to constantly leave to go get some more air.

Since the dive went so well and since gear rental is for a full day period, Maryanne floated that she would also like to go for a night dive. As a consolation, I would be free to sit in a lounge chair at the pool, beer in hand, watching the last of the twilight disappear behind the anchorage. I do spoil her...

I didn't like it. While it was heartening to see Maryanne once again all geared up and plunging into the sea, I didn't enjoy the part where she didn't resurface FOREVER. Yes, I could follow the group's bubble trails and I know Maryanne knows what to do if she sucks on her regulator and nothing comes out, but not being in the water where I could at least see her, and not being able to see the reassuring sight of her actual head breaking the surface periodically was a bit unnerving to me. Perhaps I should just calm down and order another beer.

Maryanne returned smiling, a little chilly, and completely unaware of my angst. It was nice to see her happy.

Maryanne went SCUBA diving for the first time in (well) over a decade!! And then again the same day!

After a very short night, we were up early for a bird tour/brunch at nearby Bobby's Farm. We were told to report at 6:30, which required us to be off Begonia in the dark at the other end of the same night as Maryanne's night dive. I wouldn't be surprised if we were the first people up on the whole island.

Our problem was compounded by vague directions. One set said it was a fifteen-minute walk from the resort. Another had a pin on a map that had been placed by guessing. We walked further than that without seeing anything obvious, but then managed to second guess ourselves on the theory that we must have missed it in the darkness. After backtracking most of the way to the resort again, we found a turnoff to a weak candidate. We followed it up the hill and quickly encountered stern signs reading 'No Trespassing' and 'Private Property'. That seemed odd for a business that was supposedly open to the public, but it was the only place around. We continued anyway, and soon encountered someone who very politely set us straight. We had turned around just a little too soon.

Now we were late. One more bend on the road after where we had reversed course the last time, we saw a big, unmistakable sign at the entrance. We wandered in and found Bobby, who didn't seem the least bit perturbed by our tardiness. We were the only visitors on today's schedule.

We started with the bird tour, which was the main reason we were told to arrive early. Bobby had this one sorted, because most of Fiji's rare birds like to roost in the immediate vicinity of the house. Our tour was mostly an amble through the grounds, looking through binoculars at movement in the trees above.

Next was a tour of the reserve generally, Bobby is on a one-man crusade to try to conserve as much of Taveuni as he can. He has spent years slowly buying up the land around the farm, working to eradicate invasive species, and trying to change the laws to restrict development and encourage sustainable agriculture.

As he was telling his story during our walk, one of his groundskeepers, Si, would occasionally peel off to retrieve things from the jungle to taste.

Some were medicinal and ridiculously bitter, some were delicious. One of the latter was a football-sized cocoa fruit. He bisected it, revealing the seeds within, and explained that they are meant to be plucked out and sucked clean of their sweet, gooey coating. While delicious, they are also very sticky, which had me wandering around looking for any little rivulet to rinse my hands.

Then we were presented with papaya, followed by drinking coconuts and more fruit. Oof! On the leg back to the house, Si presented is with two more forms of coconut with which we were not acquainted.

The first tasted like a cake. For this, you find a coconut that has just sprouted, with a single shoot and a handful of leaves, and crack it open. Inside is a delicious, fluffy ball with the crunchy, sweet consistency of a meringue pavlova. Technically spongy mass is known as haustorium, which in coconuts provides for a sweet tropical snack.

The other was heart of palm. This requires using your machete to chop down a slightly older tree than the first, and then whacking your way inwards through a section until reaching the pale green cylinder within. All that work rewards you with a delicious, crunchy snack that tastes little like the canned version. Maryanne promptly declared it her favorite thing. It would be great in (or even as) a salad, sliced into discs. Sharpening our machetes is back on my to-do list.

By the time we got back to Bobby's house, we were feeling quite full from all the grazing. I wasn't sure how we would now manage the brunch as well. We didn't want to seem ungrateful by picking at our food.

Well, that turned out not to be a problem. Bobby's wife and mother had both whipped up a delicious meal that each of our stomachs somehow found room to accommodate.

Tour of Nabogiono Forest Park (AKA Bobby's Farm)

After walking back to the resort, which took forty minutes instead of the advertised fifteen, we popped into the bakery for a light lunch at local, non-resort prices. We figured that should do us for the day, saving us an evening of cooking and dishes. As we were walking back to the dinghy, a woman from the resort chased us down to give us the cinnamon rolls we had missed earlier. We had told them we wouldn't be there that morning, but they went ahead and made them anyway.

Despite having a couple of long days, I decided to also squeeze in a snorkel while Maryanne stayed aboard, since I had yet to get into the water here. There is lots of good coral right at the edge of the mooring field and all along the shore. At the spot that was almost closest to Begonia's mooring, I found a colony of anemones that is more extensive than I've ever seen. With them were dozens of clown fish in the biggest school of those that I have also ever seen. That was worth the dip all by itself.

Kyle enjoyed a bit of snorkelling too, and was especially happy to stumble across a large area of anemone fish

Paradise Resort - Not a bad place to hang out for a few days

[Maryanne]I was sorry that we couldn't stay longer at the resort. We did manage to source some fresh and shelf-stable provisions, do laundry, and fill our water tanks (along with several other chores), but I would have loved to do more SCUBA diving (they have some great locations nearby); alas there was a rare/good weather window to push on to our next destination so we departed wanting more.

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Mooring location - there are at least 6 moorings for public use >> On google maps