Dream on Sailor

It was time. Having spent our first two weeks in Fiji enjoying the comforts of big city life in Savusavu – population 3,400 – we were ready for a change of pace, and place.

Next stop: the Lau Island group. A remote, sparsely populated, necklace of small, exceptionally beautiful, coral-fringed islands. The northern-most island in the group is roughly 100 miles from Vanua Levu (the big island) where Savusavu is located, but it may as well be a world away.  

On these tiny dots of land sprinkled in the vast Pacific Ocean, people live a traditional life in small villages, most consisting of fewer than a hundred people. They fish and grow most of their own food – mainly root vegetables and fruit. Village life is communal, and local chiefs provide governance as they have for centuries. Most have a small elementary school for the kids. But the focal point of community life is invariably their church. Larger villages may have a small clinic, or a rudimentary store stocking canned goods, as well as staples – rice, cooking oil and the like.

Just prior to departing Savusavu, we were joined by Kim and Jacques, old and very dear friends from my working life. They flew in from Vancouver, via French Polynesia, for three weeks of sailing aboard Turtlebones. The seeds for this visit were planted way back. Prior to the purchase of Turtlebones.

In fact, Kim and Jacques are partly to blame for us sailing on a catamaran. Having traveled to Vancouver in 2017 to look at a 48-foot monohull, and naturally staying at their house, Kim and Jacques came along to see the boat. Of course, we weren’t just looking at a boat. It was more of a dream-maker. Not surprisingly, that dream – sailing to exotic destinations, and all the associated adventures – featured prominently in our conversations. Sharing the dream with family and friends was always integral to my plan. And, as keen travelers, Kim and Jacques, jumped aboard the dream from the get go.

But they, like many of our peeps, aren’t sailors. And, based on previous experience, most non-sailors are happier when the boat they’re on remains level. More than a few people get unnerved when it leans over and heels while sailing, or rolls persistently at anchor. That realization, no epiphany, spurred a major course-correction for me. The dream-maker boat had to be a catamaran. 

In the years since acquiring Turtlebones in late 2018, a series of plans were hatched with Kim and Jacques to rendezvous at one or another stage of the journey. Each time, however, fate intervened. Between cancer, COVID, and other calamities, plans were scrubbed time and time again.

Not this year!

Still, if truth be told, I was worried. After so much planning and disappointment, we all had a lot invested. The anticipation level was off the charts. How could the reality possibly live up to the dream?   

We’re now at the half-way point.  And, I needn’t have worried.  Sailing among these unspoiled islands, and meeting their extraordinarily welcoming inhabitants, has surpassed our collective expectations. 

Having arrived at a new island, yesterday we went ashore to visit its main village. As required by local custom, we wanted to formally pay our respects to the local chief and ensure we had his permission to be in his territory. After reverently presenting our offering of kava, we were officially welcomed. Far from perfunctory, we’re now considered part of the community, and assigned a host family. It’s a responsibility all the village families perform on a rotational basis. And, they take it very seriously. Our host immediately invited us to join his family for dinner, two days hence.  Would fish be okay, we were asked.

These are, indeed, very special places and people. 

This afternoon as we walked along an exquisite beach, occasionally wadding into the clear turquoise waters, it was hard not to ponder our incredible good fortune.  In these parts, just the three of us constituted a madding crowd.    

Such a privilege to share a dream.