Thursday, December 16, 2004
Test of the Kiwi Broadcast System
FijiAdventure Blog!
There are a number of reasons that we could tell you to lessen the feelings of anger, hate, or resentment for Meghan and myself abandoning our post in New Zealand and offing to Fiji and here are a few that you can choose from.
1) We needed to aclimatize back to the Norther Hemisphere's daylight hours or the extreme lack of light may blow synapses.
2) 7 months in New Zealand requires at least a weeks worth of vacation in a tropical paradise.
3) We had to mourn the loss of yet another faithful vehicle which we left at an auction only hours before.
4) Sunny weather and close proximity to warm white sandy beaches were essential to cementing a permanent glow to our memories of New Zealand.
5) It was just too damn CLOSE to pass up!
Well whatever it was, Meghan and I decided that a week in Fiji was in order for the last week before we returned home. Apparently, after hearing about the weeks worth of weather that we missed here, it turned out not to be such a bad idea. Snow, Rain, Cold. If we wanted to aclimatize to the weather back home, perhaps we should have stayed here. But alas, too late.
So last saturday Meghan and I drove our trusty rusty Mitsubishi Lancer aka Lance to Turner Auctions in an attempt to give him a better home than we were able to provide. No tears were seen shed, but perhaps that was due to the quiet trance with downcast looks that we assumed for the hike up to the bus stop with our packs on our backs. We were never sure how far or even if Lance would make the grueling haul that we set before him in Takaka, never the less he went the whole way. Good on ya buddy.
That morning was spent wandering around Auckland yet again until we were picked up by the Rileys coming back from Hamilton and taken to the airport. Our flight was fairly uneventful, besides the lengthy wait on the ground at the gate for no reason in particular. But we didn't mind somehow. It wasn't until we actually arrived nearly an hour late in Fiji that we had to worry.
Having learned to travel as a backpacker, we figured we would continue to do so. Traveling on a budget means that you really don't want to pay the 200 odd dollars for a return airport transfer even though it is guaranteed if your plane arrives late. No no, we opted for the next best thing. The local bus to Suva which buzzed by the airport one last time that day at 6 o'clock. If we would have arrived in Nadi on time, we would have had no problem, but we didn't. Dashing out from baggage claim at five minutes til, we had no idea if we could make it in time, let alone find the run down ol' bus which made Lance look like a Limousine. The bus did show, remarkably punctual for a 3rd world country I might add, and we managed to run to the stop just as it rolled in. It was only then that we realized that we had no cash, and our feeble inquires into the use of some form of payment perhaps a little more plastic were laughed at heartily. This bus being our salvation from staying in the crowded slum of Nadi at hand we weren't going to give in lightly. A sprint back to the arrivals area yielded an ATM. Upon catching my breath at the machine I realized that it was otherwise preoccupied by not the young determined tourist, but instead some deliberate geriatric who somehow managed to gain control of this seemingly capable body who was also intent on manipulating all its appendiges and metal facilities in ultra slow motion. I quickly dashed to the ANZ Bank window next to the ATM and pleaded for funds. After throwing down my credit card and passport I was reassured by the teller that haste was not neccissary in Fiji. Heh... She didn't have to catch the last bus leaving 10 minutes ago. After the final printout of something like a dozen receipts and the teller writing down every detail from my passport I had the cash and raced back to find Meghan and the bus. No sooner than we sprinted back to the bus stop and hopped on did it take off. We were on our way the Beachouse Resort on the Coral Coast.
We got off our 2 1/2 hr public bus ride at 8:30 in pitch black and a slight drizzle next to a sign for the Beachouse at the end of a long dark road. We hoped we found a decent place. Turns out that we had found a great place but it wasn't until the next day that we could fully appreciate it. Even though the entire day of Sunday was shrouded in a constant drizzle and mist we managed to explore the resort and discover that it was a damn fine place, especially for backpacker accomodation. Nestled in a coconut grove and countless other tropical lush plants which made up the forest, was a dining area and patio, a number of garder cabins (one of which we booked into), some dormitories, the office, and tenting area. All of this was situated footsteps from a white sandy beach overlooking a shallow expanse of water leading out to the breakers at the edge of the coral.
The beachhouse, some hamocks, the patio... some paradise
deck on the beach
the patio
One of the garden rooms
Inside the garden rooms
a typical sunset
It had the feel of a little island get away, yet was still very much part of the mainland and very much cheaper than staying on the islands. The Beachouse was run quite well and for a budget establishment there was actually quite a lot to do. When we weren't hanging out on the beach trying to soak up as much cancer as we possibly could, we were out in the water snorkling (either right off shore or for $6 taken out to the outter reef), playing volleyball and getting mere flesh wounds, drinking beer, making coconut jewelery, playing cards, laying in hammocks, drinking beer, watching the sunset, and drinking beer. It was a rough life.
After the first 3-4 days of this we decided that we needed to venture out of our little Fiji paradise resort since we had yet to do so since our arrival in the night. So on Wednesday we scheduled a scuba diving excursion. We actually looked into booking it on Tuesday and found that a South African friend, Craig, was scheduled to do it that day. Apparently he hadn't heard about Fiji time, or perhaps the dive shop had, and they left Craig in limbo on Tuesday awaiting the shuttle to take him out diving. Craig called to reschedule and we joined in for for the Wed dive. Turned out that in total of about 8 people from the Beachouse ended up going out diving. The more the merrier.
Wednesday morning we set out to go diving. After the shuttle gathered up all the stragglers from the Beachhouse we drove about 50 minutes away to the town of Pacific Harbor. We found the Dive Beqa Lagoon dive shop and began suiting up. Then the waiting began. It was at this point that we remembered about Fiji time... Who knows how hot it was, but it felt DAMN hot. I am sure the humidity was 100%, if not trying to give 110%. We hopped on the boat with all our gear and shortly after scuttled out of the incinerating direct light. The next 45 minutes for no particular reason we sat, and sat, and sat... Then all of the sudden our dive masters showed up and we were off. And we were ready to dive. Well, after we boated out for another 45 minutes.
We boated out to the Beqa Lagoon, a large horseshoe shaped reef about 45 km in length, and with about as much notification that we left the dock we were at our dive site, told briefly that there was water out here and we were diving below the surface, and the experienced divers were told to get off the boat. Ok so maybe a dive master was in the water too. At this point Meghan and I were trying to dredge up all the scuba skills that we had forgotten since we last dove in Mexico. We got all suited up and were ready to hop in when I remembered that a weight belt is particularly helpful in diving. We hopped in and about 2 minutes hopped right back out. Meghan's regulator was somehow restricted and she didn't want to crush her chest cavity with each breath trying to breathe. So in an attempt to quickly swap regulators we hopped back on deck to do so only to be told just to use the spare. Who needs a back up... we're only diving... And back into the water we went.
About 10-15 feet into our descent, I grabbed my camera, which had only just entered the water, to check it out. To my HORROR I noticed that inside the 'waterproof' housing it was sitting in a bath of seawater. AHHHHH! I shot back to the surface and flopped over the end of the boat still half in the water. I quickly opened the case and drained the caustic salt water from around the camera. It was at this point that I figured that whatever was going to happen to the camera had already happened and there wasn't a damn thing I could do . So ignoring the carnage which was being lain to rest back in my mesh diving bag I flopped back into the water to the awaiting mass of divers.
Though I don't have the photos to prove it, what we saw down there is still etched in our minds. The dives were simply amazing. We had entered a world which made Finding Nemo seem like animated fish stick figures. There was no shortage of incredibly vibrant colored fish, corals, and plant life. The water dropped quickly down a cliff wall to about 60-70 ft. It was here that we began swimming around giant submerged monoliths of living stone. No sooner had we started out as a group did we spy 2 white tip reef sharks weaving their way along the top of one of the seamounts about 20 meters away. We all sat and watched as the sleek beauties cruised their domain ignoring the silly bubbling humans below. After leaving the sharks to their business we continued on exploring the plethora of life at 60 ft. At one point a few of us looked out to see a tortoise cruising out ahead and away from the underwater intruders. I tried to get Meghan to first comprehend my haphazard underwater pantomime and then to follow in pursuit, but she never did see it. Our dive took us next to, and through, many coral tunnels guarded by giant soft coral sea fans and we felt as if we were the individuals on the fantastic dive brochures. We saw amazing groups of barracuda, hiding puffer fish, brilliant schools of tiny fish which called the coral tenticles home, sea anemonies, eel, and countless varieties of fish which I have no idea their names. Our 35 minutes seemed like 10 seconds, and but for a safety stop at 15 feet our dive was over.
We let the water drain from us as we all recounted what we saw before we ravishly tore into the lunch brought for us. Our surface interval was spent just off the beach from some surf camp by the looks of it. We sat and soaked in the island with its white sand beach framed by tropical jungle next to picturesque calm clear blue waters of the ocean. It was also nice to see the afternoon rain rolling over the Beachouse's part of the coast, while we still had glorious sun.
Little over an hours rest and we were off to do our second dive. It was much the same as the first minus the incredible sharks and turtle. But we spent the full time exploring as we did the first dive and still wondered how it went so fast! We were all utterely spent after our dives, and on the ride back to harbor, the boatload of soggy divers nodded off to the waves. Once back at the dive shop we hauled the gear off the boat and awaited transport back. At this point all the experienced divers from the Beachouse were called in to be notified that the secretary had made a mistake and we weren't getting the mistaken cheaper no-rental gear price, and we were all charged another $20 for the 2 tank dive plus gear rental. So we didn't get away with their mistake but it was still a ton of fun and it was back to the Beachouse for more of the usual.
