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