Nov 10, 2017 Moala

Moala.  Nov 10, 2017


Out of the channel and away from the island the clouds lift a little.  The course is due south for 24 hours.  Wind is light but from the east so finally we can hoist the sails.  It gradually picks up during the day until we are doing a steady 5 knots on a beam reach.  Alan gets the wind vane to work so we do not have to hold onto the tiller all the time, we can just sit back and keep an eye on the compass.  It is still overcast and choppy but actually a lovely sail.  Late in the afternoon we caught another fish.  No drama this time.  Threw the line over.  Pulled it in an hour later with an already weakened fish on it.  Tossed it into the cockpit where it died a few minutes later.  No whacking, no bloody mess.  About 12” long, just right for dinner for 2.

About midnight a half moon came up, dodging in and out of the clouds.  There were a few stars and lots of sheet lightening.  At one point there was something that looked like a green and orange rocket, streaking down the sky and disappearing into the ocean.  A meteor?  A bit of space junk?  The wind stayed true and Louise the wind vane held the course. 

Just about dawn we once again lost the GPS signal.  Moala is right on the dateline so we were expecting this.  Perfect timing.  We dropped the jib made a sharp right turn and motored west for about an hour until the GPS came back on and we were just off the entrance to the reef.  Then we hove to for a nap and breakfast.  After breakfast we headed for the village.  For the first time our charts let us down.  There was just no detail.  It looked OK until you zoomed in and then it vanished and we were left with amorphous blobs.  We had promised to go to this village because a friend of ours is from there so we decided to see if we could do it.  If we run into trouble we can always turn around and head back out.  Slowly, slowly, with me on the  bow to keep an eye out, we crept through what should be the passage in the reef.   Slowly, slowly.  And then, just as we were coming up on what looked like a good anchorage the depth went from 60’ to 25’ and I could suddenly see very clearly through the water to coral reefs everywhere.  I yelled, Alan stopped and reversed   We quickly decided that this was a bad idea.  Just as we were turning to leave a boat came racing out from shore and pulled along side.  Police!  Now what?  They gestured us to follow them and escorted us around the corner to a spot just off the beach where we could anchor in 25’ of sand.  Once we had the anchor set they came on board to welcome us and see our paperwork.  Turned out the police chief was also the village chief and was delighted to accept our gift of kava right then and there so that was taken care of and we were “free to move about the island”

The reason we were at Moala was because a friend who works in the marina heard we were going to the Lau  and suggested we visit here since that is where her family is from.  She neglected to make it clear that she had left there when she was five and had never gone back We also did not have her family name and learned later she actually lived with an aunt and uncle during that time. No wonder no one knew who we were asking for.  I actually had her last name on my phone but of course my phone was not working.  One of the policemen offered me his phone and I send both voice mail and text telling her we had arrived in her village and would she please call back and give the nice policeman her family name.

Naroi turned out to be a charming village, one of the nicest we have visited.  Like Lomolomo, there is a strong Tongan influence.  Most of the places we have been in Fiji the houses are in a state of disrepair with rusting roofs, broken boards, pealing paint in a mishmash of colors.  Here everything looked freshly painted and well maintained.  There were wide lawns between the houses with lovely flowering trees and shrubs.   Horses grazed here and there.  A cement path lead along the waterfront and another one meandered along the back of the village and up the hill to the church.  We wandered down to the end of the village and back along the waterfront occasionally asking if anyone knew of the family of our friend.  Back at the village I tracked down the market which was actually nothing more that a room in someone’s house.  As usual in the smaller villages, you need to stand at the door and ask for that you want.  No browsing.  When I asked if they had either chicken or beer I was told no.  But they had span, canned tuna, paper goods. fruit cocktail, breakfast crackers.  By and large Fijians have a pretty limited diet.  They grow cassava and taro, some vegetables. There are lots of chickens around and they catch fish.  I had seen children with what looked like popsicles so I backtracked to where they were lined up at one of the houses.  I was assured this was the place.  The family had a freezer and made popcicles out of fruit juice poured into a paper cup.  Perfect for a hot day.  I was soon a sticky mess as they melted and ran all down my arms but it was worth it.

The post office across from the police station sold internet top ups so we can once again check in.  Unfortunately, service is limited.  We finally found a spot along the shore half way back to the boat where there was a good signal and we sat on a large rock to once again check the weather.  Still looks good.

Just as we were ready to head back tot he boat, our police friend caught up with us and told us he had identified the family we were looking for.  He escorted us back to their house and then also took us the the house of the peace corps workers who were from San Diego.  We had a lovely afternoon visiting and come away loaded with fresh mangos

When we finally got back to the boat in the late afternoon the tide was out and we realized that we were anchored way too close to the reef.  It was only about 50 feet off the stern.  If we dragged at all we would be on it and there was a fairly brisk wind blowing.  So we started the engine and then Alan raised the anchor just off the bottom while I headed us away from shore, into deeper water where Alan dropped anchor again.  We are still close but this should be fine.

When we were in the village Alan was told that he should remove his had as it was disrespectful to wear one.  We had heard that hats and shoes should be removed inside homes and especially in the presence of a chief but never in a whole village.  Nonetheless he complied.  Don’t forget the village chief is also a police officer.  Better not to offend.  Thank heavens I had worn a sulu and a blouse with sleeves.  Unfortunately as a result of walking around in the sun all day without a hat, Alan was miserable that night with what I guess was heat stroke so he spent the next day in bed.  We never did get back to spend more time with our new friends as we had promised.  The following day we left Moala headed for Suva.