The warmly cool, clear, ringing, perfumed, overflowing, redundant days, were as crystal goblets of Persian sherbet, heaped up – flaked up, with rose-water snow. — Herman Melville
In the bar at Paradise resort, there’s an historically dubious caption pasted on a black and white picture of a dreadlocked Fijian, claiming to be of Udre Udre, famous for eating 872 or 999 people, which raises the question of who’s keeping those records? Seems a bit incredible until google informs you that the average American will consume 7,000 animals in a lifetime (vegetarianism anyone?). ~MS
Heart shaped leaves of the Taro plant. Beats Gore Tex for water repellency.Lots of work to devein and prepare vitamin/antioxidant rich Taro leaves.Sunset and friendship on the lawn at Paradise Resort. Allora’s anchored just offshore.In this case, these are resort employees, but it didn’t look a lot different from a joy perspective than any other village ceremony.
“Fiji night” kava and a guitar missing the D string. Traditional dances offered by the employees (which they must learn as kids) casual enough to feel authentic. We share the end of the table with doctors and nurses from San Diego who come to the island each year to volunteer their services for local women, long days providing surgeries that otherwise require a long trip to the mainland. Paradise is their reward at the end of a non-stop week. ~MS
On the long and bumpy ride up north to the Lavena Coastal walk.We joined our very special cruiser friends, Claudia (from Switzerland) and Bertil (from Sweden) on the 6k coastal hike.
Liam remarked on the mighty trees that line the long ride down the island of Taveuni, arched over the battered road, lush and green. Glimpses of the blue tropical water in the Somosomo Strait between Vanua Levu and Fiji’s rainiest island. Here’s where the 180th meridian plays funny games with our navigation programs, and astronomically speaking the date should properly change. The dive resort at the end of Taveuni, calls itself Paradise. “Welcome to Paradise” probably gets old for the staff. Or maybe not. Green vines with blue flowers tumble down black volcanic rocks and red dirt off shore. After school, kids leap into the gentle blue surge in the glowing warm sunset. Tucked under the dock a frog fish holds perfectly still, out by the yellow can bouy, blue ribbon eels poke their heads out of the sand, waving back an forth with as must bluster as they can muster. ~MS
Dads are pretty participatory with the kids in Fiji.
Spider Lily.Red Ginger Flower.
Haley Forging ahead …Banana plant.Phallus indusiatus, (yep!) commonly called the bridal veil, or veiled lady, is a fungus in the family Phallaceae, or stinkhorns.I wished it hadn’t been raining because the lacy ‘skirt’ would have been more impressive, but I was excited to see my first of these!Likin’ the lichen?Cane Toad or Giant Neotropical Toad was introduced to many islands to combat mosquitoes, but now THEY have been driving native fauna, especially amphibians, reptiles and birds, towards extinction.Lots to learn about the focus on my new Sony A7RV!I think this might be a deadly ‘Destroying Angel Mushroom?’Inside of the coconut palm.Taveuni is known as the ‘garden island of Fiji.’
Tree bark.
A windy Lavena coastal walk, winding up the luxuriant Wainibau valley to the thundering falls. The usual swim against the current in warm fresh water, clinging to the cliff walls between dashes across the torrent. Liam and Diana make it the whole way. A 70 year old Fijian guide urges his charges on, climbs the cliff for a daring dive he must have made since a child. ~MS
Two waterfalls await at the end of the Lavena Coastal Walk.
Haley and Liam swimming up current to reach the falls.
Some pristine rainforest can still be seen on this island, but deforestation poses a huge problem here, too.We walked by a couple settlements on the way back. Clever use of a cut up buoy – makes a great swing!Locals enjoying their backyard.
This isn’t vacation – it’s just life.Kids are awesome!
My camera at the time was waterproof to 50′ and these Ribbon Eels were at 54′ – not a successful gambit, sadly for the Olympus TG-6.Haley and Liam feeling peaceful.You know who.‘Mackerel sky, not twenty-four hours dry’Such a beautiful team.Quite often our first coffee of the day spot on Allora.Willy and his family in Viani Bay are keen to help out cruisers by selling veggies from their garden and guiding hikes, etc.Love how they name their houses (and especially this one!)Haley and Liam’s first Kava offering, called ‘Sevusevu,’ – to the chief of the village.This swing was set up in a coconut palm 30′ up.Happy to see this dog getting so much loving.Our Marquesan horn has greeted and sounded farewell to many – and always gets us giggling with the efforts.So so fun to have Haley home!
Haley and Liam tuck comfortably into life aboard Allora (Liam, knees slightly bent). Plans yield slowly to late mornings and less ambitious days. Scuba to snorkeling. Rainbow Reef in Viani Bay slips in and out of sun, turtles, schools of shimmering reef fish, clown fish in the anemone, moray eels, turtles, the odd Whitetip reef shark, luminous damsel fish and blue stars. Kids swim out from the beach for a visit, photo ops diving from the swim step. ~MS
This trio, Viola, Handry and Michael swam out to Allora and then jumped off her stern probably a million times!
Kids going to school in the nearby village.I’d sit under this tree for hours, too!
At the turnoff to the natural waterslide where the taxi drops us is Taveuni’s prison set on a the green hillside, palm trees and a view, orange clad inmates wave Bula, Bula! The guidebook suggests that if locals are not using the slide, the water may be too high from rain to be safe. It doesn’t say anything about what it indicates that the locals are riding the slide on foot and doing flips into the pools. We were happy for Liam to go first, and appreciated the tips about hidden rocks along the fast and sometimes painful ride. ~MS
This natural rock waterslide was a MOVIN! and took us for some tumbles.The calm after the storm!
Post waterslide euphoria!
Farkle games at night reminded us of days in New Zealand when we lived in the same town. Casual dinners, walks without destinations. Just being in the same place without plans is the best part, rain or shine. ~MS
Sadness as we row to shore from Allora for our goodbyes.So hard to be without our loved ones. Makes me want to gather all my people and live like the Fijian islanders …
Each visit from friends and family has a certain ‘flavor’ and when Haley and Liam are aboard, it’s about EASE. They are gracious and lighthearted, generous and fun. We have a sense that we can just BE without fuss – and these days, I especially appreciate that important lesson. ‘Vinaka vakalevu’ for the inspiration, you two! And for creating the space in your lives to make the trip! ~DS
The seaward side of Sutherland Sound is blocked by a sand/gravel bar, so deep draft vessels can’t venture far ‘inside,’ and there are no recognized anchorages for yachts.Couldn’t resist slipping in to Poison Bay/Papa Pounamu, just to take it in.These would have been the calm conditions described in our book as being necessary to spend the night in Poison Bay, but we didn’t have the time, sadly.The very dwarfed looking Stirling lighthouse at the entrance of Milford Sound where it meets the Tasman Sea.
Piopiotahi (Milford Sound) resonates with awe and leaves us speechless, like the Grand Canyon or Machu Picchu, or the Magellanic Clouds on a vividly starry night at sea. The sheer mass and scale, the soaring beauty, each breathtaking turn. Words just pour out, but fail to capture what it feels like to sail into this magnificent fiord. The day we spent in this unique-in-the world place, was blue and lit with sun, the water impenetrably deep, granite walls towered over us, beyond imagination and comprehension, the waterfalls gushed bountifully without end. Apparently Captain Cook missed Milford on his first pass, and actually that’s not entirely surprising. Approaching from the sea the fiord begins rather humbly and then builds and builds in its symphonic crescendo of magnificence. A bit much? Not really. Every time I stepped away from the helm and out from under the dodger I caught my breath as I looked up and up. ~MS
The tour boats run in a clockwise loop around Milford, and there were probably FAR fewer than in non-Covid affected years, (saw maybe 12 all day), but we were able to stay quite clear of them just by scooting to the middle or going the other way – basically we had the luxury of no rules! But who’s looking at boats with these sheer rock faces in our midst?
Excited visitors to this breathtaking sound are at risk for ‘Milford Neck Syndrome.’ By the end of the day, my neck wouldn’t support my head anymore – had been looking up too much!!
There’s a resident pod of Bottlenose Dolphins in Milford – they dashed over eagerly to welcome Allora!
Heading up toward Deepwater Basin, the tourist concession. Milford is the only fiord that can be reached directly by vehicle and because of that, it normally receives up to 500,000 visitors per year! When we went via car (with Wyatt) in April 2021, ours was the ONLY car in the massive parking lot. Now, a year later, tourism is inching its way back.Iconic Mitre Peak, 1683mSome people book their big Milford trip a year in advance and then get one of the 182 rainy days/year. Feeling such gratitude to the weather gods!Bowen Falls adorned by a rainbow, as if it needed more?!
We had to keep Allora off shore just enough to avoid a full shower from the downpour of Stirling Falls. She drops 150 meters (a 35 story building worth!)
We were both giddy all day and so so glad we made this quick but rich visit!
Real Journeys offered up their mooring in Harrison Cove since they wouldn’t be using it. This saved us figuring out how to find a suitable anchoring spot in otherwise super deep water.So EASY! No kayaking multiple lines to shore anymore!Low light on Donne Glacier, but there’s a GLACIER in our anchorage?!!!Sweetness!Last light on the peaks.Wyatt left NZ for the States on this day. Something about that fact coupled with our sort of ceremonially special last hours in Fiordland left us feeling a bit stunned. We fell asleep super early and woke back up at midnight to start our passage up the West Coast. At 12:15 am, we left Harrison Cove in such pitch blackness that we were grateful for the silhouetted ‘steep as’ granite walls and the resident dolphins which escorted us out with an utterly magical and hushed Fiordland goodbye. Haere rā!
Our logbook for the run from George to Bligh says, ‘expecting 4 meter seas, so ‘battening down the hatches on Allora.’ This pic doesn’t begin to show the waves, but we are getting pretty used to these quick hops being worthy of our full attention!
This northern fiord zigzags around 18 kilometers inland to the head at Wild Natives River (surely on a list to be renamed?)Sizable slip. Some of these are so dramatic you can just imagine the sound and drama of the actual moment when it let go.
The very steep demarkation between mud bank and deep water.We finally found a spot to anchor in the middle in 80′ of water, so we had all our 330′ of rode out and were ‘free swinging’ without any lines to shore.
On our one full day in Bligh, Marcus took Namo up the Wild Natives River and hiked up with just enough time (with the tide) to fish one nice pool, landing two fish.‘Marcus’ Pool,’ Wild Natives River.I stayed back on Allora and did one of my ‘flash’ mosaics. Here and there along our 7 year journey, I’ve tucked these offerings, almost ‘dialogues with nature,’ into various locations. Here, I share some close ups, mainly because that’s all I got up to in Bligh, but I will save the full images for another post!
As much as we choose to be present for what IS, we are starting to really look at forward at the weather for our tough West Coast passage from Milford to Abel Tasman.I’m thankful for Lightroom so I can prep some of these blogs before finally getting back into Wifi zone.
Bye Bligh!I feel like I can SEE the richness of this journey in Marcus’ expression!
