March 10th – Chasing Waterfalls in Savusavu

After the urban jungle of Suva yesterday, it was time to get into the real jungle (or at least the rainforest) of rural Fiji in the little town of Savusavu on Vanua Levu. If Suva is the modern face of Fiji, then Savusavu is like going back in time to Fiji as it used to be. The town is small, home-spun and a little shabby, but it’s a friendly place that’s now beginning to get more westernised now that a few (mainly upscale) resorts have opened up in the surrounding area.

We joined a tour that got us out into the unspoilt green countryside out of town, where we did a fun trek up to a lovely waterfall. The hills were incredibly lush as we trekked our way through the dense undergrowth, dripping with moisture. Actually, it was so humid that we were all dripping by the time that we’d stumbled our way up to the waterfall, so it was a real relief to cool down in its cold, crashing waters. The water plummeted down from a height of 15 metres, and as I swam into the cascade it was completely disorienting – it was deafening, I couldn’t see anything and I was struggling against the power of the water. 

Suitably refreshed, I skipped down the rough path like a mountain gazelle (ok like an unstable rhino), and we had some lovely tropical fruits while a few locals sang some lovely songs – a very nice tour.

On the way back, the heavens opened and it rained almost as hard as it had in Suva the day before. As ever, that trusted tourist’s tactic of dealing with downpours was the perfect solution – we found a hospitable bar to sit out the deluge. With the rain clearing, we had a quick lunch (although not in the curry restaurant I had chosen, because apparently it “looked dodgy”), and then we explored the town. Seeing as Savusavu basically consists of one main high street, that didn’t take long, but the market was friendly and the shops were probably more plush than you’d expect for a little place like this.

Another place that we hadn’t been scheduled to visit, but another very pleasant stay.

March 9th – An Unexpected Visit to Suva

Suva (Fiji’s capital city) is a place that often gets a bad press. It gets criticised for being too urban (this is by far the largest city of the South Pacific islands), people accuse it of being too dirty (admittedly it is a bit scruffy around the edges), and it mainly suffers from comparison with all the idyllic beaches that Fiji is famous for (there isn’t a beach to be found in Suva).

However, when you’ve been already turned away from the Cook Islands and Tonga, and you’ve spent 4 days at sea wondering if we would be allowed in anywhere (plus we lost a day of our lives after we crossed the International Date Line), then everyone onboard was extremely glad to be calling in here. And, whether or not they were just relieved to be setting foot on land at last, most people really enjoyed their time in Suva.

Actually, Suva seems to have smartened up its act over the last decade – there are quite a few relatively smart malls in town, everything was fairly neat and tidy, and there seemed to be quite a few large developments under construction. Plus, the great advantage that Suva has always had, is its wonderful people – everywhere we walked, we were greeted with wide smiles and enthusiastic shouts of “Bula” (a cross-between hello and welcome) – it really was heart-warming.

Just across from the port is the town’s wonderful market, which was an immediate introduction to its friendly people, and also to Fiji’s incredible fertility. There was a huge variety of fragrant fruit and colourful vegetables in there, plus of course the Kava roots on sale that provide the mildly narcotic drink that keeps these gentle giants so mellow.

We explored central Suva’s streets, which were a sometimes jarring mix of interesting colonial buildings, worn-out concrete constructions, and shiny modern developments. The atmosphere was lively and colourful (not too dissimilar from a Caribbean capital), and the shopping was pretty good for a Pacific Island and often surprisingly cheap.

We headed over to the National Museum, which was interesting in a low-tech, shabby chic way, and luckily enough, we just about missed out on some of the heaviest rain that I’ve ever experienced – the rain was really ricocheting off the pavement. In between showers, we sheltered in the refined surroundings of the Grand Pacific Hotel, a stately colonial institution which is a great place to have a drink and feel like Royalty (Harry and Meghan were recent guests, so maybe ex-Royalty then).

We then meandered along the waterfront, watched a bit of rugby training in Albert Park, and just enjoyed the mellow atmosphere of a place where people really seemed happy to see you – it made for a refreshing contrast with the indolence of Papeete.

With stops at a couple more Fijian ports to come, where people will hopefully have the chance to see the beaches, blue seas and unspoilt landscapes that this country is more famous for, our experience of Fiji will only get better. However, I have to admit, that it was a pretty good start.

March 4th – Exploring Bora Bora’s Blue Lagoon

Without doubt, Bora Bora’s spectacular lagoon is this holiday island’s greatest feature. There are many ways to explore it – by boat, jetski, parasail, or even, as Tracy did, by Aquabike (a kind of underwater moped where you don’t even get your hair wet, as you move about the floor of the sea like a slow-motion James Bond).

I opted for the more practical way of getting about the lagoon – by a good old-fashioned boat. I’ve done these trips a few times, but I always love getting in amongst the sharks and rays that throng the shallow waters, looking out for some food from the boat operators. The first time that I did it (a few years ago), my heart was beating out of my chest as the circling sharks got ever closer. This time I was almost blasé about coming face-to-face with a dead eyed shark about 1 metre away (the photo might look like I’m calmly checking Facebook with 2 sharks about to pounce, but I’m actually setting up the camera on my phone – as it turns out, almost all my photos were terrible anyway).

The sharks and stingrays might look frightening, but the most dangerous creature down there were some very irritated trigger fish, who were obviously threatened by our presence. They waggled around angrily in front of us, and if we didn’t go the opposite direction they were more than happy to bite – 2 people were actually cut by their bites, while I was only bitten on my shoe, so they didn’t break my skin.

We then moved onto the coral garden just inside the reef. It was in pretty good shape, and as I snorkelled around, it was like I was in another world – a magically peaceful environment of swaying shoals and colourful coral. It was easy to drift off as I explored, only to find I was a bit too far from the boat for comfort. Out in the coral garden I’d occasionally come across a shark – suddenly it seemed a lot more scary with only me there and away from the artificially created shark gathering earlier on.

As ever, Bora Bora’s lagoon didn’t disappoint.

   

March 3rd – (Not) Spotting Dolphins in Moorea

Today the rain finally relented so we got to see French Polynesia (and for me, it’s most attractive island) at its best.

We joined a “Dolphin Spotting” Tour that promised to take us to see some of the 160 or so resident spinner dolphin that spend their day inside Moorea’s lagoon. The dolphins go out into the ocean at night to feed, but we were reliably informed by Dr Poole (the island’s resident dolphin expert) that they were out there somewhere. He told us that 95% of his dolphin spotting trips get to see them in the lagoon, and seeing as an earlier trip hadn’t got to see them, then our chances had to be pretty high. Wrong….

As we zoomed around Moorea’s beautiful lagoon, try as we might, we just couldn’t find them. We stopped at all the passes between ocean and lagoon where they like to hang out, but they weren’t playing ball. We saw a turtle, plenty of floating coconuts that were mistaken by our eager eyes for dolphins, and Tracy did spot a leaping fish – but no dolphins.

Dr Poole gave us lots of fascinating information about the island and about its ecology, but he seemed to get slightly tetchy at the lack of actual dolphins. However, the sheer gorgeousness of the lagoon, with the seas in all shades of turquoises and blues just about made up for the absence of flipper and his friends.

If you were desperate to see dolphins, this trip would have been a slight disappointment; but if you took it as a way to see some stunning landscapes and enjoy some great views of the island from all angles, then Moorea has scarcely looked better.

March 2nd – Reaching “Dry” Land in Papeete

After three days at sea crossing the South Pacific, we were fairly glad to see any land at all, no matter what it looked like. Unfortunately in a fairly ceaseless torrential downpour, Tahiti’s capital, Papeete, was not looking its best.

To be honest, Papeete is probably my least favourite of all the South Pacific ports – just too much concrete and traffic for it to compare with the beauty or isolation of all the other island paradises we visit. But, on a horribly rainy Sunday when pretty much everything is shut, it was not presenting a very welcoming face. 

On the otherwise deserted streets, there seemed to be a much larger population of homeless people lying around in the concrete arcades, just waiting for things to get better (whether that was the weather or the economy it was difficult to say). A general feeling of ennui seemed to have descended on the city – what else do you do when it’s absolutely bucketing down for 72 hours in a row?

Actually, I’m not being totally fair to Papeete – if you’re willing to get up at the crack of dawn, then Sunday is a great day to visit the town’s wonderful market. Sunday is the day that everyone cooks a big family lunch (the reason that the town was deserted by the afternoon), so the market opens up at about 4am and is packed with shoppers until about 9am when everyone shuts up shop. We headed over with Chef David Bilsland at 7am, and there was an incredibly lively atmosphere in there, as people snapped up fruit and veg, exotic fish, and (curiously) lots of Chinese BBQ pork – they were queuing round the block for spare ribs. You could hardly hear yourself think with the rain hammering down on the roof and the cries of the sellers trying to attract you their beautifully arranged fish stalls. But, everyone was friendly and there was a jolly atmosphere in there – maybe they were just glad to get out of the rain?

So, Papeete’s vibrant market was easily the highlight of our time in rainy Papeete – just don’t expect much to be going on here after 9am.

February 26th – Stepping Foot on Pitcairn Island

Today we achieved something very rare – we actually got ashore at Pitcairn Island, one of the most remote inhabited places on the planet. We had a fantastic day meeting the islanders (many descended from the Bounty Mutineers) and exploring this beautiful little tropical island. 

Pitcairn isn’t exactly on the way to many places, so they don’t get many visitors here – plus, the strong swell of the Pacific means that almost all cruise ships that anchor in Bounty Bay just can’t get ashore. Fortunately the waves were fairly kind to us, plus we had the ship’s highly manoeuvrable zodiacs, so we were able to clamber ashore and experience an island that’s home to just 50 hardy islanders.

The thing that strikes you immediately about Pitcairn, is just how mountainous it is – there’s very little flat land, and from the pier you’re greeted by the appropriately-named Hill of Difficulty, a very steep road that takes you to the island’s one settlement, Adamstown. On a hot and humid day, we were dripping with sweat by the time we got to the top, but the thrill of visiting one the most unique places in the world made it all worthwhile.

The islanders are a friendly bunch – I got the feeling that they were just glad to have some outsiders to share their little haven with. We had some great chats finding out what it was like to live in a place where everyone knew everyone (and was probably related to everyone), where they have to be largely self-sufficient, and where they have to deal with the intense isolation – they tend to get a supply boat every 3 months.

They only have 15 hours of electricity a day, from 6am to 9pm – “we tend to go to bed pretty early here”, we were told. There’s a school on the island, but once it’s time for secondary school they are sent to stay New Zealand – I was surprised to hear that they often go away for 5 years without coming back once in that time! One young lady who had just returned from New Zealand told us, “until I went away, I thought Pitcairn was big. Then I went to New Zealand and it was massive!”. It was fascinating to hear the different perspective of the islanders.

We went for a hike to visit Fletcher Christian’s Cave – the spot up in the hills where Christian would scan the horizon checking for Royal Navy ships on the hunt for him and his fellow Mutineers. The trek was rough but beautiful – we passed through thick forests, wild and rocky landscapes which looked like something out of Jurassic Park, and open cliff-faces. It can’t be easy to grow up here, but when you have a playground like this it can’t be too bad.

Somehow the islanders managed to cook a lunch for the 200 or so passengers who came ashore here – really tasty and a cold beer has never tasted so good. Before it was time to go, one of the kind islanders offered to take us up to the highest point of the island on one of their ATVs. Looking down on the island, it felt bigger than I’d imagined – so much space for such a small community; but it also brought home how small their world was – this was the only land (apart from some uninhabitable islands) for hundreds and hundreds of miles. 

To deal with this complete isolation, the islanders have developed a unique community spirit, and they have put their well-documented troubles behind them. I absolutely loved my time on Pitcairn, and had a real sense of poignancy as we took our boat away, as I wondered how will this precariously small community cope in the coming years? I wish them all the best – unique places like Pitcairn deserve to survive.

February 22nd & 23rd – So Near, But Yet So Far on Easter Island

Never has a distance of 500 or so metres seemed so far. That’s as far as we were from Easter Island for two tantalising days, but that was as close as we got.

This is one of the most remote inhabited islands in the world, which means that the Pacific Ocean has thousands of uninterrupted miles to build up some very heavy swells. This, combined with the fact that there’s a very narrow entrance to its little harbour, means that cruise ships unfortunately have quite a lot of difficulty getting in here.

It had all started off so promisingly – the sun was out, we could see some Moai in the distance, and initially the seas didn’t seem too bad. Then we took the stabilisers off, and we could feel the ship start to roll. With every roll, the tender area would get badly flooded, and the tenders (and zodiacs) would bounce about. It was simply too dangerous to load up the boats from the ship.

In spite of having two days here (two days of rolling as it turned out), and the flexibility of zodiacs, it just wasn’t meant to be. We will have to wait until the 2021 World Cruise for another attempt to get a closer look at those mysterious Moai.

But, as one positive, a troupe of local dancers did manage to get onto the ship – the poor things had to climb up precarious rope ladders up the side of the ship. Maybe the adrenaline rush of their bumpy boat ride across to us inspired them to give one of the best and most energetic local shows that I’ve ever seen. From the handsome male dancers, there was more suggestive hip-thrusting than a Tom Jones concert plus more buttocks on display than a nudist beach, while the women were equally attractive and athletic. We may not have got onto their island, but at least we had some of the exotic atmosphere of Easter Island brought to us.