Savusavu is a haven from the high seas and surrounding reefs--protected and calm with the friendliest people. Everyone smiles. “Don’t worry!” is the term most repeated by Indo Fijians. There is nothing they say they cannot do for you, no matter how you foresee the impossibility. They are determined to find the resource and accomplish the task at hand, even if in the end it does not cut mustard. One has to be forgiving.
It is wonderful to be back again in 2010, and to see fellow sailors we knew in Tonga or New Zealand. Paul and Katie from Zimbabwe and England, respectively, off Intrepid; Avon and Julian from New Zealand off Windborne; Hans and Dory from Holland off Happy Monster; and our favourite Kalisto-ites—Gary, Vicky, Zeke, and Nina from Tasmania.
We’d gather at the yacht club for soothing showers, listen to Hans or local Fijians sing, and have ice cold drinks to quench the thirst as at last the heat of the day cools down. We’d chat with skippers and crew off boats newly arrived from various ports of call. Listen to their stories. Get tips on local anchorages. Find out where they are going next: the Marshall Islands, via Kiribati; Vanuatu; New Caledonia; Australia then to the Mediterranean via the Suez Canal (no fear of pirates); we haven’t a clue; nowhere, we’re staying here—‘salty dogs’, sun-drenched and invigorated for meeting the challenge of crossing oceans to discover land beyond, and for having found time to relax in a safe haven for now.
Savusavu is a no-hurry place, where spur-of-the-moment things happen: meet for a curry dinner after the sun has set; go on a tour of the copra mill, the oil of which is exported for biofuel; take a bus to the big city of LaBassa—very silk and glitter Indian; spend a morning in the rain forest and listen for the blue dove; pile onto another boat to snorkel off the (Jacques) Cousteau Resort where the water is clear and fish abound; or take a few dinghies out to the nearest motu for sunset songs by the Dutchman Hans as we toast the dying day.
We have done just that. Kalisto-ites and the Zulus take a ride with Happy Monster to the point where the Cousteau Resort bungalows nestle in between the swaying palms at $1,500 a night, edged by the ubiquitous yellow sand beach, reef beyond and clear water.
First a lovely lunch below, then once our food has settled it is time to be one with the myriad coloured fish and coral. Splash! We are in our own aquarium sans the glass—free to move about and pique the interest, get wowed by the marine life first hand. So magnificent.
We dry off in the afternoon sunlight. Our bodies are warm inside and out. Lounge around and while the afternoon away. Then embark on our short mini dinghy trip to a small motu beyond for guitar music and salutation to the sunset.
“Chaps I see people on the beach.” I say as we approach the motu with our dinghies. A tall, tanned, and ‘well-healed’ man—should you be able to see his shoes—walks down to the water’s edge with an air of ownership.
“This is a private motu.” he says. “You will have to book a landing here with the resort. We have paid for the day.”
“No problem.” We all respectfully reply in unison with smiles and waves as we maneuver the dinghies away from the shallows.
“We have six or more years to enjoy uninhabited motus.” I say. “We have time.” The ‘well-healed’ man is dumbfounded. “You have six years and I have a day!” he calls back as we motor away.
We anchor a good distance away--two dinghies, with eight people in them. Hans starts strumming the guitar. Dory cuts wedges of watermelon. Vicky prepares some rum drinks. And the sun slowly finds the end of its journey across the skies at the horizon’s edge. The dinghies bob at anchor on velvet waters. A burst of light sends shafts of colour into the skies, and the last song is sung as the day ends.
Such is the sun-kissed time of a day spent in Savusavu, a place known as ‘The Hidden Paradise’.
Dutch Hans sings Knights in White Satin for me at Savusavu Yacht Club. Dory looks on.
I get to know Sally, a local Fijian who is eager to meet a sailor and venture to horizons afar.
Zeke, Nina, Gary, Vicky on Happy Monster with Dory at the wheel headed to the reefs for snorkeling off Cousteau Resort.
Gary and Vicky scan the horizon as we venture out for the day on the sailing vessel Happy Monster.
Motley crew at lunch on Hans and Dory’s boat, Happy Monster, before plunging into the clear waters to become one with the fish.
Zeke and Nina are going off to fetch their friends off Intrepid. What a place to play.
Dinghies are at anchor and Vicky prepares to mix the rum drinks for our toast to the sunset serenade. Their two friends in the middle from Australia, whose names have escaped me, own the sister boat to Kalisto. Theirs is black, and Kalisto is red. They all built their own steel boats! Hats off to them!
Which song is it going to be? Hans scans his repertoire.
A Tall Ship sailor—he works on these in Australia--takes mice bites out of the watermelon wedge. Sweet dimpled cheek. Mischievous.
A burst of light sends shafts of colour into the skies, the last song is sung, and the day ends in this hidden paradise.
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