The Waterfall

Not sure the name of “the waterfall”, but it was an amazing waterfall none the same. Looking at the Lonely Planet book for treks to do in the mountains, we thought the Waisali Rainforest Reserve sounded good, not to arduous, a 30  minute walk down to a waterfall in beautiful rainforest. The locals here said to just catch the bus to Labasa and tell the driver to drop us at “the waterfall”, they all know where it is.


So fine, we set out to catch the 9:00am bus a bit early to make sure we find it with lunch and a rain-jacket in hand. It’s a bit rainy, but warm and we are looking forward to our first adventure inland. So, the bus heads out and the driver assures us he’ll drop us at “the waterfall”. We figure if the driver forgets, then we’ll go see Labasa for the day for half the bus fare, you know, plan B. Cool, so we settle in for the long slooooow crawl up the mountain road in this big old bus packed full of people headed across the mountains to the “big city” (pop. 24,000) of Labasa. Savusavu is on the south side of the island which is the wet rainy side and Labasa is on the drier north side.

About an hour later after passing through several villages, making many stops, the bus stops for us at the very top of the mountains (the pass) and the driver points to the ridge and says “over there”. So, off we go, with many thanks, but we notice some friendly folks wondering what we are doing here, so we ask if “the waterfall” is over there. They, being the most friendly people on the planet, ask “well, which waterfall do you want to see, the little one, the middle one or the big one, and of course none of these are in the Waisali Rainforest Reserve, and the one “over there” isn’t but a trickle. Huuummm. Well, that’s easy, the big one of course. Oh, well for that one you have to go to the next village and then hike a few kilometres into the jungle. Ok, fine we have legs so we can walk to the next village and then into the jungle, which they said oh no, it’s much too far (10 km), so this woman insisted on taking us down there.

So, she gets her car, we pile in and she takes us to the next village and beyond to show us the little waterfall along the road where some locals get there drinking water and bath and then takes us back to the village, Lamolamo. Along the way, she points out the waterfall we chose to go see on the far wall of the valley. A spectacular valley it was too, breathtaking for sure. When stopping in the village, everyone came out to greet us and one young girl insisted on guiding us across the valley. So, cool, we set forth down the track into the deep green jungle, the clouds and rain of the southern side stopping at the mountain ridge just beyond the valley. It was muddy from the last few days of rain, but today was beautiful.

Now, since I’m in jandals (flip-flops) expecting a leisurely stroll on a track made for tourists, quickly wish I had come more prepared for an expedition. The jandals were definitely not going very far in this very sticky mud. So off they come and I’m going on into the jungle in bare feet, gooey mud oozing up through the toes. But I’m happy to be here and our guide, Eleanor, is lovely. Now you also have to keep in mind that every Fijian outside the towns carries a machete. It’s a way of life, I think they are all given one when weaned from mamas tit, because you can’t get very far without one.


So off we go, Eleanor leading the way. After some time (?) we come to a place we Eleanor says we can go this away (off the beaten track), it’s a short cut. Sally and I look at each other with a bit of trepidation, but agree fine, let’s really go on an adventure. So, Eleanor leading with machete flailing away, we finally make it to the river below “the waterfall”, which is still a ways upstream. Now we are in the raging creek working our way towards “the waterfall”. The only way to go is really in the creek, not alongside it as the terrain is just to impenetrable. And after many bolder hops and wading against the current and climbing steep rocky walls we finally come to “the waterfall”, probably 2 hours from the village and 2 km across the valley, though time doesn’t seem to figure in a place like this. And a spectacular waterfall it was. Even more so, the place was so alive with a spirit, that life was all around, a heaven on earth as it were, not to mention my feet were holding up just fine. It was also funny that we “experienced trekkers” were easily out-done by this young Fijian girl, though I of course had bare feet as an excuse. J In any case, we took pause to share our lunch with Eleanor and just be and soak it all up. The air was sweet, the cool mist of the waterfall floating down, the lush green of the jungle all about, the sky deep blue above. We were happy campers for sure.

On our way back, Eleanor took us a different route, stopping at several “camps” were the villagers had small plantations for growing their own food down on the valley floor. She also was pointing out all the plants in the forest that are edible. They have a very simple life, abundant food all about, all the necessities to build shelters. They are a people of little “want” and love them dearly. They are incredibly friendly and a giving lot as well. Eleanor even wanted us to spend the night and help us get the bus in the morning so she could show us around more. Now, who do you know that would do that for total strangers in the hectic world of the west?

Once we made it back up to “the road” (the only road), we decide to hitch back to Savusavu instead of waiting for the last bus or stay the night. We looked rather worn and covered in mud, though Eleanor of course didn’t look any different then when we first started. But no worries, the first truck that came along stopped and we say many thanks to Eleanor for taking the time out of her day to show us around. A lovely and kind and giving young woman. So, we slowly make it back across the mountains and back into Savusavu, well almost. We had to walk the last 3 km’s back to the dingy just before dark, get to the boat, take showers, back in the dingy to shore for a very large yummy pizza and spectacular sunset, back to the boat and fell into bed by 8pm from a long wonder-filled day.

So that’s the news from EQ, where the winds are fair, the seas following and the crew content.

J

Officially in Fiji!

It's been a good journey (have I told you about Raoul yet?) and the officials didn't want to wait until Monday to check us in, so all came by today (Saturday) as they were here doing other boats anyway. All were warm and friendly and welcoming people. So, we are here, even ventured ashore to have a nosy about the little village and do some hunting and gathering at the markets. Got settled on a mooring ball about 11:00pm Friday night and promptly went to bed. It's flat water and no wind, so felt a bit weird.

It was an interesting trip up the bay and into the river. Nearly got mowed down by a big car ferry as they weren't playing by the proper navigation rules, I think just going where they wanted to. More like the big guy has right-of-way. I wasn't about to argue. And of course not as interesting as Raoul. Ok, ok, I'll get to that in a minute. Anyway, it was fun coming into a strange place at night, all the lights a bit confusing, but we took our time and found a good spot amongst all the other boats here. Apparently, the ICA rally arrived two days ago, so lots of boats up this small river estuary right in front of this small Fijian village. After being at sea for nearly 2 weeks, adjusting back to "people noise" is going slowly, but ok.

It's really quite beautiful here, very green as it's the end of the rainy season. It's a very mountainous country as well so we will enjoy exploring the interior. The people are very friendly and a happy lot. It's also very warm and humid (yes, we escaped the NZ winter). Our first morning was a sunny and cheery one to greet us into this lovely country.

So, it's the conclusion of a 1400 nautical mile open ocean sail, mostly with favourable winds and conditions. We seem to have picked a reasonable weather window, as this passage always has it's challenges. But then of course there was Raoul. :) Lots of spinnaker sailing which is hard to beat. Very lovely ride. Our last day was a bit light on the wind though, so had to motor. 30 miles was so close, yet so far away. And with lightening about the night before, we wanted to get in.

Now Raoul was another story (yes, finally getting to it :) ). It being about half way, intriguing place to have a looky-see, and an approaching northerly frontal system, we decided to have a look. If it didn't look reasonable, we'd continue on and deal with the front at sea. When we got there it looked great, nice beach enclosed by huge vertical walls, protected by seas and wind from the east. With the front expecting a NE blow, we snuggled up to the beach to sit it out. It was a bit rolly with the swell wrapping around from the south, but much better than big seas out outside. So, we set the hook and Sally went for a swim. I noticed a big shark after cleaning a fish, so put the dingy in the water and went and fetched her. Peeeewwwww.

After getting a reasonable nights sleep, we decided to swim/kayak to the beach to check it out. It was too inviting to not have a look around. Now Customs would say we are meant to head straight to our destination without stopping, except for emergencies or safety, weather, boat troubles, etc. I say this qualified as a reasonable stop. We also did spot a big DOC sign on the beach saying "landing by permission only", so we set off to ask permission. We never found anyone and the vertical walls made access to the interior impossible without climbing gear. So we had a pleasant stroll down the black sandy beach. Once deciding it was time to get back to the boat, things got a bit more challenging.

By then, the swell had built up and the surf was pounding on the beach, making it an "oh my god" panic like situation. I tried getting out with the kayak and got trashed, cracked a couple of ribs and a few bruises and hanging on against the undertow, but I managed to get out on the next low set. It was the last low set and Sally was stuck with big breakers and a dry bag and kayak paddle to swim off with. She tried too, but got dumped on several times, thinking she wasn't going to make it as the rip was so strong. Me all the time sitting just out of the break on the kayak trying to work out how to help. Finally, Sally makes it back onto the beach with the dry bag and can't find a way off. After half an hour she finally heads for the end of the beach and out along the rocks to find a way back in the water. She makes it but has a long swim back to the boat. I head over with the kayak in case mister knobby (great white) shows up again.

About this time heading back to the boat, we begin seeing huge swells come in and EQ climbing over the peaks pulling hard on the anchor and then breaking just behind the boat. It was a heart wrenching sight, so we picked up the pace. We did make it back ok and pulled the anchor during a lull and moved to deeper water. Peeeewwww again. All is well except a kayak paddle gone missing.

So we had dinner and hunker down for the blow about to come in, thinking we're good and protected behind the huge walls in front of us. Right. It did start to blow and it was a long tense night as we sat anchor watch, eyes glued to the GPS for possible movement. At least the swell started to settle down, but the zephyrs were amazing. We recorded gusts over 45 knots, coming in like gunshot, or was it cannon shot. Amazing sheets of horizontal water as it dumped on us with a vengeance. All the time we're praying that the anchor will hold as our butt was pointed at the rock wall without much room to react in case the anchor did pop lose. My big mistake was to not move to the NW corner of the bay before dark were there would have been better protection.

But the anchor and ground tackle did hold, buried itself good in the sandy/gravelly bottom and we didn't move an inch. Bloody good anchor, proven itself yet again. Sometime in the middle of it all though, I decided it best to let out more anchor chain (more scope) to get the best possible pull and protection. That was a difficult task and caused a slashed finger cut in the chain windlass. Bugger again. I also rigged a float to mark the chain in case we had to cut it loose and make a run for it.

By morning it started to settle down and we got a bit of sleep. By noon on Sunday, it switched to the NW, the rain had eased and a chop started coming into the bay, which was our signal that the front had passed and it was time to leave. So with patched finger, cracked ribs and bruises, very little sleep and a sigh of relief, we pull the anchor aboard and put to sea. It didn't get very far that day as the NE swell had built up that night to 4 meters, even some 5 meter stuff. Big mountains of water is another way to put it. It was really quite amazing how big it can get in short order. But EQ can handle it just fine, just has to go slower when heading up into it. The crew however just needs to hang on.

By the next morning it all settled down and the winds backed more to the west and we had a good sail. In fact it was good sailing the rest of the trip. The one thing that made all the difference in the world was the auto-pilot. We did very little steering. Had we had to steer, it would certainly would have been very hard. So, good ground tackle and a good auto-pilot makes all the difference.

Anyway, that's the Raoul story, more or less. Beautiful place really and would like to go back sometime for a better wonder. The best part of course is we loved the whole trip, as hard as some parts were. It's good to be back to sea and living the life I worked so hard to make happen. And of course Sally-Jane has been a delightful crew and good friend. They don't come any better.

So, that's the news from EQ, where the winds are fair (generally), the seas are following (mostly), and the crew is content to be here and now (always). And of course a nice fresh shower is a delight.

Cheers. J