Hemispheric Travelers By MichaelVITI LEVU, FIJI

Looking back at Del Viento from ashore.

So we got our window and made our short passage north, from Savusavu, Fiji, to Futuna, the smaller of the main islands that comprise Wallis & Futuna, the simply-named French protectorate out in vast Pacific Ocean.

It was sort of like returning to the Marquesas. Granted, everything is in French (though the 4,500 people on the island speak their own Polynesian language, Futunan, at home—and just them! The 9,500 people on Wallis speak Wallisian, blows my mind.) and the small supermarchés were filled with duck pâtés and cheeses and bread (bread that was much better than anything we ever got in all of French Polynesia), but what I'm talking about is the dense, green, rugged hillsides punctuated with dramatic sheer cliffs. "It reminds me of the Marquesas," is what we kept saying to each other after dropping the anchor.

All of this was unexpected. I'd focused solely on the understandable admonitions about Futuna, same as the widespread advice offered to us before we sailed to Pago Pago, American Samoa: "get in and quickly get out." I didn't expect else but the roadstead anchorage and the dinghy-killing pier. Following is the soundtrack aboard Del Viento en route:

"Girls, you know we're seriously only going to be here for the time it takes to drop anchor, check in, and check out—maybe as short as a couple hours."

"Seriously?! But we can't be stuck on a passage for two days and then not even spend the night."

The only place we found to get internet
on-island, outside the closed Gendarmerie.

"Guys, this is the whole point of this trip, to check in and check out and get back to Fiji. Besides, the anchorage is a shallow indentation and our weather window is closing—we can't be in this anchorage when our weather window closes and the wind comes up."

We arrived on a Saturday, early morning. We hit the beach running.

The Gendarmerie gave us the bad news: "You can check in and check out in this office today, but you must also go see the port captain for your zarpe and he won't be in-office before Monday."

Crap. We were told in Fiji we could do our check in and check out on a Saturday.

Fortunately, a quick check of the GRIBs showed that our weather window had accommodated us, expanding to give us the two placid days we needed.

Life is like that sometimes.

We didn't rock and roll in the roadstead anchorage, instead we sat peacefully for two days in a lovely, lovely setting, enjoying an unexpected Futuna experience.

Life is also like that sometimes.

Our sail home was as pleasant as our sail there. Both ways we crossed the antimeridian, exactly halfway around the world from Greenwich, England, and meaning that in our short trip we traveled east from the Eastern Hemisphere to the Western Hemisphere and then back to the Eastern Hemisphere.

--MR

Arriving Futuna.

Futuna streets.

Could be a Marquesan street for sure.

This is what the sail back to Fiji looked like.

Del Viento back on a Waitui mooring in Savusavu.

First thing we did upon returning was get together
with our friends Robin and Fiona from MonArk.
The couple are Good Old Boat contributing editors who
also run a site that encourages younger folks to get into
sailing and cruising. Check it out: youngandsalty.com

Dreary Paradise By MichaelSAVUSAVU, FIJI

Frances with a roadside vendor.

We've not enjoyed a lot of sunshine this month. Lots of drizzle—not a good thing. Drizzle is for San Francisco. Precipitation in Fiji is usually the warm, Tropical-rain kind, the kind that allows us to collect water in the tanks and bathe on the foredeck with a smile on our face. This is cool drizzle that turns dust to mud streaks. This drizzle is off-and-on and sends us opening and closing our hatches like jack-in-the-boxes.

It's where we are, Savusavu. It's got its own little wet climate, a result of the moisture-condensing mountains around us. There's a rain forest a few miles from our mooring.

All of that wouldn't be so dreary if I didn't feel stuck. The clock is ticking on Del Viento's time in Fiji. We've been trying to get her out-of-country since I arrived back from the July I spent in the States—a 2-day passage to Wallis-Futuna and two days back—but the weather hasn't cooperated. Not the drizzle this time, but the contrary winds that make that trip notorious. We're just looking for a break.

Is that all?

No.

I've got the job of my dreams, editor of a great sailing magazine. I can work from Fiji and anywhere, it's a dream job that allows us to cruise indefinitely.

But what does that look like?

The crab Eleanor found.

I'm working more than 40 hours a week. I'll remind you that this cruising life is work in and of itself. Getting water, fuel, groceries, and sundries, and disposing of trash, and doing laundry, and repairing and maintaining the boat, is nearly a full-time job. The cruising life is best when the cruisers are unencumbered to tend to the demands of self-sufficiency, like we were for the first five years of this adventure. Cruising doesn't easily accommodate full-time workers. It doesn't feel like we're cruising anymore.

And while working full-time in paradise is still more appealing than a conventional land-based life in the States, there's more.

Our kids are turning teen (Eleanor turns 14 next month!). This means we're confronting the characteristic needs for social lives that involve a more constant presence of other young adults. I cannot relate, but I cannot ignore.

Added into our life stew are aging parents; my mom in particular isn't doing well.

We've met cruising teens who pine for richer social lives. We've met cruisers who need to spend time caring for aging parents. But these were other people, these were their stories. We never saw our story the same way.

We're not throwing in the towel, this isn't my farewell post. I don't know what our cruising life holds. We're actively trying to figure that out. We're a family accustomed to an uncertain future, we just need to find the best way to make that future the best it can be.

Maybe when the drizzle clears.

--MR

Frances was keen on having a spa day aboard Del Viento and sold
Windy and Eleanor on the idea. This is what it looked like and on the
girls' faces is Frances's own oatmeal concoction.

At the nearby Waisali Rainforest Preserve.

A Fijian village near a stream. Note the women doing laundry.

A deserted beach we found--I love this little motu.

This dock and a few moorings comprise the Savusavu Marina
where we've spent a lot of time, and where we plan to again leave
Del Viento (on a mooring) over the cyclone season.

In the Front Door By MichaelSAVUSAVU, FIJI

Frances was obsessed with me
capturing this photo. I think this
is take number 17.

I wrote a while back about how the cruising life has given us unique access to many fancy resorts. There's a symbiotic relationship between snazzy beachfront resorts and cruising boats (seen as yachts by resort managers and guests alike) anchored off the beach. Anchored yachts make a snazzy place seem snazzier. The hick-up to this symbiosis is that there is an unalienable third party to this relationship, the unbathed, poorly dressed cruisers aboard these anchored yachts. While there may be a fortress-like guarded gate at the land entrance to these places, the beach is a wide open path to a snazzy pool and other amenities. Resorts usually either welcome us or they just tolerate us. We've seen it both ways, we don't care.

The other day was another such occasion, only this time we were invited to drive in the front entrance, of La Dolce Vita Holiday Villas here on Venua Levu.

Thanks Susan and Jeff.

--MR

This floor mural is made of countless tiny
tiles.

Another tiled mural. The detail was exquisite.

See? These are people in one of those arches.

Another tiled mural. If you're noticing an Italian theme, the place is
owned and built by Margaret and Luigi. We ate great pizza from one
of two huge wood-fired ovens on the property.

Frances looking out at the saltwater play lagoon.

One of many Fijian totems we saw here and many places in Fiji.

Happy Windy.

Happy Frances.

Crossing Windy.

Pictures to Windy's left are two of the guest villas. As you can see,
the place was empty, we had it to ourselves all day.