Drinking Kava in Fiji
The guide books tell you to have several bundles of yongoda root when you go cruising. This is the root of a pepper plant which is ground to make kava. When you drink it, it makes your mouth all numb and tingly and you feel very relaxed. When you arrive at a village the bundle is to be presented to the chief. According to the guide books you will then be invited to participate in a kava ceremony which makes you a part of that village. However, I know very few cruisers who have actually had that experience. If you are here as a tourist, the tour boats set up a ceremony for your group with all the bells and whistles, including a pitch for money. But if you are here as a cruiser anchoring at small villages, you present your gift, they say thank you and that is it. Unless you stick around for a while, then you are invited to join in everyday kava drinking .
Our first kava ceremony was in Tonga. We were invited to a Sunday church service and meal and promised “Tongan beer” We were picked up on the dock and walked up the hill to a home in a small village where Alan was given a skirt to wear to church. Once we were dressed, we were taken to the Methodist church, just up the road and into a lovely meeting room carpeted in beautiful mats. About 12 older men were seated cross legged in a circle on the floor. I was the only woman and was concerned that I should not be there, but apparently since we were foreign guests it was OK. We were introduced and asked about our trip and then cups of kava were passed around. It was all very formal, with the oldest being served first. You clap before taking the cup. Drink it down in one swig. Clap three time when you are finished and say thank you as you pass it back. Between rounds of kava, there was a lot of quiet discussion, all in Fijian of course. The village chief was there, the minister, the high school math teacher and minister. Apparently they meet every Sunday to discuss village business. After the meeting adjourned and we all headed to the church, we were told that kava is tongan beer.
Our next invite was a birthday party for one of the staff in Fiji. The party was held in the village next to the marina and the guest list was a mix of relatives, friends, co-workers and cruisers. It is a lovely warm night and there is a lavish buffet with local dishes. Wine and beer flow freely, along with mixed drinks. People sat around in small groups and ate and drank. Typical party, just a few things are different. There is no silverware, everything is eaten with the hands. There are very few chairs, mats are spread under a roof supported by poles decorated with palm fiber. Formal dress for men is a sulu, often just a length of cloth tied around the waist and shoes are left at the door.
After a while the kava bowl is brought out. Little by little the locals gather on the mats, the men in a circle and the women to the back with the kids. Most of the cruisers stay with the buffet and alcohol but Alan and I join the kava circle. Kava is prepared by putting the powdered root into a cloth bag and immersing it into the bowl of water where it is swished around and squeezed by hand, over and over until it is the proper strength. Once the bowl is ready, the kava is scooped up with a coconut shell cup and offered in turn to everyone who wishes to partake. You can request high tide, medium or low tide to designate how full you would like your cup to be. Drink it down in one swig, clap three times when done and return the cup so the next person can be served. The kava is room temperature and sort of muddy tasting and leaves a numb feeling in your mouth. This goes on for hours, until the wee hours of the morning. People come and go. There is quiet conversation. Songs are sung. Kids run around until they finally fall asleep. It is a striking contrast to the parties we are used to, where as the alcohol flows the party gets louder and louder and inhibitions fall away. Kava just makes you feel relaxed.
Our next kava party was a fundraiser for the local church. The taxi took us up the road from the marina for a couple of miles dropped us off at the top of a dirt road and left. In the dark, we made our way down a rutted road to where we could see a cluster of lights, having no idea where we were going. As it turned out, the whole of the small village was involved, about 15 families. We asked the way at the first house and were escorted on down the road to the meeting place. It was a one room wooden house with a tin roof, painted yellow inside and carpeted with the lovely mats that they make here. The room was full of people, the men in a loose circle at the front of the room and the women and kids clustered in the back. We had been told to bring a bundle of kava, which we did. After it was presented and blessed it was added to the pile in the back of the room. Later on during the evening Alan noticed that it was being ground up and used. This is actually the first time that our kava has been used while we were present. For whatever reason, I guess because we were guests, I was taken to the front of the room and invited to sit next to the head man. Alan somehow ended up farther back in the room. An enormous bowl was already full of kava and the cups were being passed. even some of the children got some. It was constantly refilled during the evening, each time with the ritual of swishing and squeezing.
We had been told that the evening was a women’s evening, the men cooked the meal and served the women. I gather this does not happen very often in Fiji. Since it is a church fundraiser the hat is passed. Each person that comes puts something in, the amounts are carefully logged and by the time we leave they have collected $550 for the church mission. The women are delighted with the success of “their” evening. I take it that the men will have their evening next month. While there was much discussion of the fact that the men had cooked, there was no food in evidence. Eventually we were asked if we were hungry and when we said that we were, we were given takeout boxes of curry and cassava to eat with our fingers. Several of the women also had boxes of food, but none of the men were eating. I guess the main meal had happened earlier although they say that most people don’t eat much when they are drinking kava, but they do smoke. Smoking seems to be part of the kava ritual.
The highlight of the evening for me was the singing. The women in the back of the room began singing quietly and when they say my big smile, they got louder and more enthusiastically. They sang for almost an hour. Of course the entire evening, all of the conversations and all of the songs, are in Fijian but it really does not seem to matter. I asked what one of the songs was about and found out that the women were challenging the men. to raise more money next month. There was such a lovely spirit of family and community. Kids were in and out. From time to time one of the younger women would take several of the children away, presumably to bed. When we finally decided that it was time for us to go, they sang the traditional good-bye song focus, all the kids came for hugs and they rounded up a car to give us a ride back so we would not have to try to track down a taxi in the dark
Our next kava experience was very different. We are tied up next to a boat that is used for dive trips and a couple of young Fijian men are staying on it as crew. After a hard day’s work, as the sun sets they often get out the kava bowl. Several evenings we have been invited to have a cup with them. Just a bunch of friends sitting around having a drink. At home it would be beer. Here it is kava. The guitars come out and they take turns singing and playing. When I ask the meaning of the songs, they tell me they are love songs, almost all love songs. But I guess that is true in most languages. The protocol is much more relaxed but there is still a “bula” when the cup is handed to you and three claps when done. I can’t say that I really like the taste of kava, but I love the peacefulness and camaraderie that are present when the cup os passed.
Sunday, September 20, 2015
July 30, 2015 Back to Vuda with transmission problems
Waya to Saweni to Vuda
July 30
Once again, what should have been a good sail turned out to be a day of motoring, dodging reefs. First there was no wind and then the wind was on the nose. It seems like we should be able to tack, even with wind the wrong way but there are so many reefs, many of them uncharted that it just seems easier to motor. Pulled into Saweni Bay in the afternoon and spent the night. Next morning Alan got out the transmission manual and we spent several hours adjusting the coupling on the transmission. Unfortunately it did not seem to fix the problem When we started the engine it took almost 10 minutes to get the transmission into gear, so we decided that we needed to head into Vuda and have it looked at. We knew that there were no slips available. Apparently boats are crammed in everywhere, with several boats being tied along the cement wall in the entrance channel and more at the customs dock. Our plan was to anchor outside and see if one of the mechanics could come and take a look at it. We stopped right outside the entrance, dropped the anchor, launched the dingy, put an anchor light up and headed into shore. Alan went to track down a mechanic while I stopped in the office. Good luck on both parts. The office had found a spot for us “for 2 days only” and the mechanic could come first thing in the morning.
So we headed back out to Rhapsody, started the engine and hoisted the anchor and ….. This time it flat out would not go into gear. So we we were towed in. Slowly, slowly. slowly, right past the bar where all our friends were watching. The tide was running out and the wind was blowing us sideways, but little by little we eased into the channel and finally into a slip. But, we had been put into the slip of a boat that was supposed to be gone for a week. Just as we were tied off, that boat came on the radio saying that they were coming back in. They were told to stand by for 30 minutes while we were towed back off and put into another slip.
Next morning the mechanic came to discuss the situation. It is not going to be an easy fix. The transmission itself has to come out which means the drive shaft needs to be loosened which means we need to come out of the water. And so, we are back in Vuda Marina on the hard again, hopefully just for a day or two while the transmission is fixed. Amazingly there was a brand new transmission on the shelf in the office for slightly more than the cost of parts and labor to fix the old one. Maybe there is a chance this will be a fairly quick fix and we can still get up to Savusavu before bad weather hits again.
When the Drive shaft was loosened and the couplings taken off, it became obvious whey Rhapsody leaks. The fiberglass under the coupling was all gouged and not smooth. It had just been filled in with bedding compound. So while we are out, we will have that patched and smoother with fiberglass and while we are at it, might as well patch the holes where we hit the reef. While the guys were working on the transmission, I decided to give the bottom a good scrubbing. I had forgotten that bottom paint is designed to rub off easily and before too long I was as blue as the boat. I was actually scrubbing off algae but i was also redistrubutatring the bottom paint. Eventually it was done and looked like a new paint job. It took several showers and a load of laundry to get it all off of me and my clothes.
Several days later we are back in the water. A day to clean up and put everything away and we will take off. By the way, it still leaks!
July 30
Once again, what should have been a good sail turned out to be a day of motoring, dodging reefs. First there was no wind and then the wind was on the nose. It seems like we should be able to tack, even with wind the wrong way but there are so many reefs, many of them uncharted that it just seems easier to motor. Pulled into Saweni Bay in the afternoon and spent the night. Next morning Alan got out the transmission manual and we spent several hours adjusting the coupling on the transmission. Unfortunately it did not seem to fix the problem When we started the engine it took almost 10 minutes to get the transmission into gear, so we decided that we needed to head into Vuda and have it looked at. We knew that there were no slips available. Apparently boats are crammed in everywhere, with several boats being tied along the cement wall in the entrance channel and more at the customs dock. Our plan was to anchor outside and see if one of the mechanics could come and take a look at it. We stopped right outside the entrance, dropped the anchor, launched the dingy, put an anchor light up and headed into shore. Alan went to track down a mechanic while I stopped in the office. Good luck on both parts. The office had found a spot for us “for 2 days only” and the mechanic could come first thing in the morning.
So we headed back out to Rhapsody, started the engine and hoisted the anchor and ….. This time it flat out would not go into gear. So we we were towed in. Slowly, slowly. slowly, right past the bar where all our friends were watching. The tide was running out and the wind was blowing us sideways, but little by little we eased into the channel and finally into a slip. But, we had been put into the slip of a boat that was supposed to be gone for a week. Just as we were tied off, that boat came on the radio saying that they were coming back in. They were told to stand by for 30 minutes while we were towed back off and put into another slip.
Next morning the mechanic came to discuss the situation. It is not going to be an easy fix. The transmission itself has to come out which means the drive shaft needs to be loosened which means we need to come out of the water. And so, we are back in Vuda Marina on the hard again, hopefully just for a day or two while the transmission is fixed. Amazingly there was a brand new transmission on the shelf in the office for slightly more than the cost of parts and labor to fix the old one. Maybe there is a chance this will be a fairly quick fix and we can still get up to Savusavu before bad weather hits again.
When the Drive shaft was loosened and the couplings taken off, it became obvious whey Rhapsody leaks. The fiberglass under the coupling was all gouged and not smooth. It had just been filled in with bedding compound. So while we are out, we will have that patched and smoother with fiberglass and while we are at it, might as well patch the holes where we hit the reef. While the guys were working on the transmission, I decided to give the bottom a good scrubbing. I had forgotten that bottom paint is designed to rub off easily and before too long I was as blue as the boat. I was actually scrubbing off algae but i was also redistrubutatring the bottom paint. Eventually it was done and looked like a new paint job. It took several showers and a load of laundry to get it all off of me and my clothes.
Several days later we are back in the water. A day to clean up and put everything away and we will take off. By the way, it still leaks!
July 25, Waya north to Waya south
July 25, 2015 Waya north to Yalobi Bay
Moving on the next day, from the north end of Waya to the south. I am starting to get nervous about the transmission. It takes several tries before it goes into gear. When it is time to pull up the anchor, Alan goes to the front of the boat to operate the windlass while I stay on the helm, ready to put it into gear and move out as soon as the anchor is off the ground. Depending on the wind and tide and other boats around, this can be easy or tricky. Basically, I want to hold position until he gets the anchor all the way up and tied down. then I can give it gas and move out. We don’t want to be moving very fast with a heavy anchor swinging free. But if it does not go into gear, I can start drifting onto other boats or the shore.
This was just a short motor sail and we did not even go ashore when we arrived. Tomorrow we will get an early start and cut across the bay to the mainland. We will stop for gas and provisions and then head to Savusavu and check out for Wallis. Unfortunately during the night the chain managed to wrap itself around a rock and in the morning we could not get it up. Luckily there were several other boats anchored in the bay and one of them came over to give us a hand. Slowly, slowly, pulling and backing, we worked it free. Only took about a half hour.
Instead of heading back to Vuda the next day we decided to just go across the bay to the village on the other side of the bay. We had stopped there on the way up and when we went ashore this time we were greeted like old friends My reason for returning here was to talk to the chief. I realized that we have almost never taken the time to just talk and ask them about what life is like here. We were taken straight to Chief Joe where we spent over an hour. It was fascinating to hear stories of when he was a child. Other people drifted in to listen. Some of his grandchildren did not know about the things he was telling us. There used to be three or four different kinds of yams. Now they only grow one. The men and women had separate fields to tend and different kinds of baskets to carry their crops in. When he was a child they almost never saw white people and when white people came they hid the children because they did not know what they would do.
When it was time to go, we were loaded up with fresh fruit. We had to wait while they wove a basket for us to carry it in. The younger people invited themselves out to the boat for a visit. As usual, they were intrigued and delighted with such a compact home. But the best was when they spotted our iPads. They immediately asked if we had games and went straight to Plants vs Zombies, Solitaire and Mahjong. Times have really changed since Chief Joe was a kid.
Moving on the next day, from the north end of Waya to the south. I am starting to get nervous about the transmission. It takes several tries before it goes into gear. When it is time to pull up the anchor, Alan goes to the front of the boat to operate the windlass while I stay on the helm, ready to put it into gear and move out as soon as the anchor is off the ground. Depending on the wind and tide and other boats around, this can be easy or tricky. Basically, I want to hold position until he gets the anchor all the way up and tied down. then I can give it gas and move out. We don’t want to be moving very fast with a heavy anchor swinging free. But if it does not go into gear, I can start drifting onto other boats or the shore.
This was just a short motor sail and we did not even go ashore when we arrived. Tomorrow we will get an early start and cut across the bay to the mainland. We will stop for gas and provisions and then head to Savusavu and check out for Wallis. Unfortunately during the night the chain managed to wrap itself around a rock and in the morning we could not get it up. Luckily there were several other boats anchored in the bay and one of them came over to give us a hand. Slowly, slowly, pulling and backing, we worked it free. Only took about a half hour.
Instead of heading back to Vuda the next day we decided to just go across the bay to the village on the other side of the bay. We had stopped there on the way up and when we went ashore this time we were greeted like old friends My reason for returning here was to talk to the chief. I realized that we have almost never taken the time to just talk and ask them about what life is like here. We were taken straight to Chief Joe where we spent over an hour. It was fascinating to hear stories of when he was a child. Other people drifted in to listen. Some of his grandchildren did not know about the things he was telling us. There used to be three or four different kinds of yams. Now they only grow one. The men and women had separate fields to tend and different kinds of baskets to carry their crops in. When he was a child they almost never saw white people and when white people came they hid the children because they did not know what they would do.
When it was time to go, we were loaded up with fresh fruit. We had to wait while they wove a basket for us to carry it in. The younger people invited themselves out to the boat for a visit. As usual, they were intrigued and delighted with such a compact home. But the best was when they spotted our iPads. They immediately asked if we had games and went straight to Plants vs Zombies, Solitaire and Mahjong. Times have really changed since Chief Joe was a kid.
July 23, 2015 Somosomo to Waya, Fiji
July 23, 2015
Somosomo to Waya
Next day we headed on south, hoping to get into a more protected bay before the strong winds which were predicted came up. Once again we were foiled in our attempt to sail and motored most of the way. There are lots of reefs along this stretch and it was necessary to keep a sharp lookout. There were waves breaking on the reefs on both sides of us but Alan steered a good course and we pulled into Rurugu Bay at the north end of Waya with no incidents. The bay was filled with boats from the ICA but we managed to find a spot. Several more boats came in after us and we were all anchored pretty close together. That night the wind came up and we all tossed around but luckily no one dragged and in the morning several of the other boats took off, giving us some breathing room. Last time we were here, Captain Ame had asked for charts to use to teach navigation to the young men in the village so we decided to stop by and see how he was doing. It is going well. Other cruisers have gotten the word and have also donated books and charts. He is teaching every evening.
Octopus Resort is just over the hill from this village and many of the villagers work there. We had heard that there was a path and set out to follow it. We started off fine, concrete steps up from the beach and along the waterfront. There was one point where another path branched off but it did not look very well maintained so we continued on our way. Before too much longer we heard squealing and suddenly found ourselves in a pig farm. Pigs were everywhere. Most of them in rough cages made out of sticks pounded into the ground but a number of them running around loose. Along with the big ones, there were lots of babies. Suddenly we realized… tourist resort = traditional Fijian feast every week = need lots of pigs. On we went, through the pigs and across a field and past a cemetery until we came to a little house set on the beach where we were loudly accosted by Joe. We were invited to come into his house and sit and eat papaya and talk. He lives way out here alone and does not get many visitors. Eventually we decided we needed to get going. When he asked where we were going we said Octopus . Then we realized that his house is all the way at the end of the beach against the hill. There is no way to go farther along the beach. We had missed the path. After teasing us and laughing, Joe summoned a young girl and told her to guide us back to the main path and make sure we did not get lost again.
So back through the trees and up the hill until we cam to the main path where she decided that we would be able to find our way. Up the hill on a rutted dirt path which changed to cement steps at the top, sort of like crossing a county line. We arrived at the resort as the supply ship was unloading. It was a fairly breezy day and the little supply boat was anchored just outside the breaker line, bouncing around. The tailgate was down and 50 gallon drums were rolled off the boat and into the ocean. The hotel staff was in the water and as each drum came splashing down they grabbed it and swam it to shore where another team pushed it out of the water and rolled it up the beach. The resort was charming with a pool and sand floored restaurant. After an excellent lunch, we climbed back up the hill and down the other side. Just as we reached the top of the hill we got a facetime call from Audrey and the boys. So there we were, on top of a hill on an island in the South Pacific talking to California, realtime with video. Love it.
Somosomo to Waya
Next day we headed on south, hoping to get into a more protected bay before the strong winds which were predicted came up. Once again we were foiled in our attempt to sail and motored most of the way. There are lots of reefs along this stretch and it was necessary to keep a sharp lookout. There were waves breaking on the reefs on both sides of us but Alan steered a good course and we pulled into Rurugu Bay at the north end of Waya with no incidents. The bay was filled with boats from the ICA but we managed to find a spot. Several more boats came in after us and we were all anchored pretty close together. That night the wind came up and we all tossed around but luckily no one dragged and in the morning several of the other boats took off, giving us some breathing room. Last time we were here, Captain Ame had asked for charts to use to teach navigation to the young men in the village so we decided to stop by and see how he was doing. It is going well. Other cruisers have gotten the word and have also donated books and charts. He is teaching every evening.
Octopus Resort is just over the hill from this village and many of the villagers work there. We had heard that there was a path and set out to follow it. We started off fine, concrete steps up from the beach and along the waterfront. There was one point where another path branched off but it did not look very well maintained so we continued on our way. Before too much longer we heard squealing and suddenly found ourselves in a pig farm. Pigs were everywhere. Most of them in rough cages made out of sticks pounded into the ground but a number of them running around loose. Along with the big ones, there were lots of babies. Suddenly we realized… tourist resort = traditional Fijian feast every week = need lots of pigs. On we went, through the pigs and across a field and past a cemetery until we came to a little house set on the beach where we were loudly accosted by Joe. We were invited to come into his house and sit and eat papaya and talk. He lives way out here alone and does not get many visitors. Eventually we decided we needed to get going. When he asked where we were going we said Octopus . Then we realized that his house is all the way at the end of the beach against the hill. There is no way to go farther along the beach. We had missed the path. After teasing us and laughing, Joe summoned a young girl and told her to guide us back to the main path and make sure we did not get lost again.
So back through the trees and up the hill until we cam to the main path where she decided that we would be able to find our way. Up the hill on a rutted dirt path which changed to cement steps at the top, sort of like crossing a county line. We arrived at the resort as the supply ship was unloading. It was a fairly breezy day and the little supply boat was anchored just outside the breaker line, bouncing around. The tailgate was down and 50 gallon drums were rolled off the boat and into the ocean. The hotel staff was in the water and as each drum came splashing down they grabbed it and swam it to shore where another team pushed it out of the water and rolled it up the beach. The resort was charming with a pool and sand floored restaurant. After an excellent lunch, we climbed back up the hill and down the other side. Just as we reached the top of the hill we got a facetime call from Audrey and the boys. So there we were, on top of a hill on an island in the South Pacific talking to California, realtime with video. Love it.
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