S 17° 27.146
E 178° 14.910

This is the Catching up mentioned my narration ‘250911 On the way north’.

I picked up Henk & Maria with my dinghy to go ashore. Joe was too sick to join; she still suffers from a cold and swollen tonsils.

At the first place where we wanted to go ashore, we quickly saw it’s not possible. Too shallow. Boats there were already almost out of the water. However, in the other direction, there was a house and two boats tight up a bit outside on the water. We wanted to try it there.

The water was pretty murky from a river close by and we could not see the sea bottom at all. Very slowly we passed the two tight up boats, when the outboard engine touched the ground while er still could not see that water was already that shallow. Henk went into the water, which had a depth of just above his knees. “Mud” he said, “Soft mud.” We fixed a stern and a bow anchor and walked through the water. At the beach a lady was giving us signs on where to walk to not sink too deeply into the mud. At the beach, Anna, so her name welcomed us warmly and showed us where we could wash of the black mud. The mud was black due to volcanic sand; we saw that at the beach.

After a kind of introduction of us, we explained that we just want to see the village. Anna walked with us the short distance to the intersection of the gravel road to the Kings Highway. On the way there were very friendly ‘bulas’ to be heard from every house. Incredible, this feeling of being welcome. We walked through the village, bought some stuff at the tiny supermarket with an opening like a night counter of a pharmacy. At the end of village a rather big Seventh-Day Adventist Church and a rather big school with a kindergarten. Education is taken important.
When we came back to where the dinghy is, we saw it lying comfortably on the mud.

Trapped until the tide is back!

Thus we took the next bus to Rakiraki, a town, a bit more than half an hour to the north.

The town reminded me to Nausori, where, about 3 weeks ago, Tom and I changed busses to go to his village. The main road has shop beside shop. On the center a rather big square and a covered, concrete built market place with a typical farm produce offered. We bought some fruits and looked for an eatery. As eateries typically offer only Coca or Pepsi Cola, the trash drinks of this world, Henk and I bought a bottle of wine and water. Wine for Henk & Maria and water for me. Wine is too early for me. The food was an also typical fusion of Fijian and Chinese; the latter’s influence is dominant.

With filled stomachs we looked for the bus back to where we started. But how is the place called? No notes. But I have a few pictures. One way of the other will make it.

In the bus we saw a mother and her child, who were also with us on the bus to Rakiraki. We recognized each other. A good omen.

When we reached the school we saw before, the bus turned into the gravel road passing the house where our dinghy is. How lucky we are.

On this road the bus stopped ever about 50 – 100 m. Mainly school children got off. Just in front of the house we got off as well. And then the bus’ engine stalled and the start motor didn’t really turn. The battery must have been in very poor condition for quite a while. A push-start was needed. Henk, I and a bunch of school children pushed the bus backwards and the engine started again. High fives among every body of the successful team work.

We looked at the dinghy and knew we have to wait for quite a while more. Sevu, the man we thought is Anna’s husband understood the situation and invited us for a cup of lemongrass tea into his hause.

He told us, that one day in his board engineer life in container vessel, he rescued a sailing couple from their sinking yacht in a cyclone. Even taking 50 % out as exaggerated, I only can draw my hat in respect on how he risked his own life to safe the sailing couple with the man being badly insured by the mast falling down.

However, more impressive was what he told us during the days cyclone Winston. During such a cyclone he only is concerned about the life of his family. Losses or damages of the house etc, when nothing is insured is only a minor concern.
I admire him his ‘fall down seven times, get up 8 times’ attitude. This Japanese proverb fits excellently into such a situation. The Fijians are used to this very hard life where one can loose everything except the life on a few hours when i cyclone passes over his house. However, still they are very
happy and share the little they have with people like us foreign sailors who appear in their lives and dissappear again.

CHAPEAU!