The Yasawa Island Chain, Western Fiji

April 13 through 22, 2013

Waya Lailai; Unnamed bay on west coast of Nanuya-balavu; Drawaqa, SW Naviti; Somosomo, N Naviti; Sawa-I-Lau and caves; Departure point from Yasawas into Bligh Waters for passage to Savusavu. 

Waya Lailai, April 13 and 14: Lat 17 Degrees 19.43’ S, Long 177 Degrees 07.92’ E 

We leave Navadra anchorage around 3:00 PM after the sun begins to descend into the west so we can have the light behind us to sail (motor) to Waya. It is only 2 hours away and simple enough to navigate. 

Sharing a fish with Namara villagers. A fish on the line!!! If I saw that fish in a dream it would be a nightmare. A big-eyed barracuda. It looks vicious. Russ pulls it in and calls for the spear gun. He misses twice and laughs, but gets the poor thing the third time. 

 “I’m not eating such an ugly fish.” I exclaim. Russ does not care, he is not fussy. 

We enter Yalobi bay and anchor where the breeze flows between Nabora Pt. on the smaller island of Waya Lailai and the large island of Waya--opposite the village of Namara. 

Namara village is in an idyllic setting at the foot of Waya Lailai, with a million dollar view across Yalobi Bay of Moorea-like mountains that take your breath away. A string of houses line the beach. There is some movement of the villagers; children are playing in the water, a woman dips herself to cool off fully clothed, a small boat approaches the shore. 

Russ dinghies in their direction to give the fish away, a nice gesture when anchoring in their front yard. He said they chopped it into portions and dealt them out. One woman got the head. Russ got a small piece to grill. 

Also, he said that the adjacent beach around a rock point houses pigs he believes. They, too have a million-dollar piece of pig real estate. Enjoy piggy paradise as soon you will land up being served with rice and coconut milk and will slide down the long gullets of hungry Fijians. One down from human brains. 

Of note it seems as if each sector of an island has different responsibilities for raising money/food. Some are the fishermen, some raise pigs, some—like in the northern village of Waya’s Nalauwaki bay--raise goats, some have tourist attractions or accommodation, some are cruise ship destinations and sell handicrafts. They share and trade their returns between villages and visit each other’s churches on Sundays for a change and to socialize. 

All of the island villages own the reefs and fish and water around them. It is resource for their livelihood and to be respected by visiting yachts. 



The village of Namara, Waya Lailai where Russ gave the big-eyed barracuda away. 

 

Adjacent beach that Russ believes houses the pigs, which too have a million dollar piece of real estate before being served up with rice and coconut milk.

Turning away the visitors. No sooner back from sharing the fish than a boat with three Fijians—two men and a woman—ask if we have juice or cookies or chocolates, and if they could come aboard. I am in no mood for ‘visitors’ and am sparsely dressed to say the least. 

I look out of the companion way and see they have gotten past soft Russ and have boarded Zulu. Most Fijians are tall and dark and well built and they can appear quite inhibiting emerging up the transom unexpectedly for a surprise visit and tour of the boat. 

I have to ask them to leave. I feel a bit bad, but am hot and salty and hungry and the sun is setting. The two men have no issue on leaving and speed off in their open boat. 99.9 percent of the time they are so respectful and friendly and mellow so all is taken in good stride. And usually yachties are happy to share some western goodie with them. But now is not a good time. 



The view of Yalobi bay and Waya, across from Waya Lailai. The village of Yalobi is set in the heart of the shore at the foot of dramatic Moorea-like mountains. It is beautiful. 

Yalobi village and motoring up the west coast of Waya. We dinghy across the waters to Yalobi village and find it even more idyllic and set in the heart of the shore at the base of the mountains. It is breathtaking and I wish we had anchored here too. 

Time to pull up the anchor though and motor around the corner thinking we’d pop in to the Octopus Resort bay and get internet. The west swell makes that a negative and on we go aware of the reefs too ready to bite our bottom. 



Rounding the point from Yalobi bay up the west coast of Waya to continue north. 



Octopus resort on west coast of Waya. Swell deters us from anchoring for a chance of internet connection. On we go……navigating carefully. 

That said the depth sounder goes from 200 ft to 25 ft!! 

“Russ, go to port! I yell.” He stops the boat as the depth goes to 15 ft and turns slowly to port and deep waters. Always I have my eye glued to the chart and the colour of the seas. 

We follow the 2005 cruising track of our friends —the Hacking family—taking note that they had a catamaran with shallow draft and ours is 7ft plus. At the mouth of the Mocelutu passage—a short one--our engine starts to stutter. We make a u-turn and ready to hoist sail in light wind, but the engine seems to get a second ‘wind’ and we hold our breath and make for the lee shore of Nanuya-balavu so that should it die we’d have time to drop the hook. 

Bay on West  Coast of Nanuya-balavu, SW Naviti, April 15, 2013 

Anchor as the sun sets. The sun is setting and Russ eases through the passage and around the corner short of Salakolo Pt and drops the hook in 60 ft with a huge surprise rock cutting our depth to 30 ft in passing over it. Luck has a lot to do with getting creamed or not!!! 

We are just short of Drawaqa Island, our intended destination. But are safely anchored and toast the setting sun as Zulu rocks and rolls sideways to the swell. Hang on to the sheet ends tonight! Again! 

Morning breaks calm and I swim the distance to the shore over some deep waters to beautiful coral and enter my fish domain. This is where I feel centered and calm and happy. When I am in safe, clear, waters over coral gardens with colourful fish with funny, pouty faces gliding by my life is all good, and I smile behind my goggles. My ‘friends’ are with me. Not the sharks and snakes! 

Russ is on the beach and we walk together around rocky, slippery points leaving our snorkel gear in a tree. Up a path to a narrow saddle we go and I lean against a palm tree and look up to blue skies. Russ goes on to see if there is a way to get to the Manta Ray resort for a cold drink. But after a brief investigation comes back and says the tide is too high and that we’ll motor around later in the afternoon when the sun’s path descends to the west. 

He lightly kisses me. And I feel special. 

Drawaqa, SW Naviti, April 16 and 17, 2013: Lat 17 Degrees 10.29’ S Lat 177 Degrees 11.29’ E 

Manta Ray resort. Around we go very cautiously with the sun behind us and drop the hook off Drawaqa Island in 60 ft. We dinghy ashore to the Manta Ray resort-come back packer place. 

Young people (that is funny to say as we no longer are young in age, only spirit) are lounging around in all forms of languid positions: on chez lounges, on beach towels, on benches, on couches, in hammocks all in different shades turning from vanilla blue to raspberry red. This is a ‘rustic’ setting facing east, so no sun set tonight. We had that all to ourselves off the west side of Nanuya-balavu last night.

Swedes, cold beer and pizza from a wood burning oven. I sit in a hammock and watch the Fijians chop wood for the wood-burning pizza oven. A young Swede, Lucas, picks a branch off a hardwood tree and begins carving a butter knife. 

The Fijian—who calls himself ‘Fiji’ for the benefit of us short-term-memory-stunted palangis--helps him with initial form as he has a panga and sharp knife. Too sweet to watch this butter knife take form and listen to his travel tales. This is their 2nd night in Fiji--from Sweden via Hong Kong--and they are on an Awesome Adventure Tour to visit three islands two nights each. 

“Some day I would like to learn to sail.” Lucas said, holding his carved and roughly sanded butter knife in hand with a sweet innocent smile. His young, curvaceous wife lay a stone’s throw away on a chez lounge absorbed in a book, sipping an umbrella drink in her zebra-striped bikini. 

We share travel tips for they are to fly to LA and drive around for three weeks ending up in the Mission District of San Francisco for 5 days. Russ steers them to Zion National Park, Las Vegas, Yosemite, and San Francisco. All these destinations interest them and Lucas punches the info into his smart phone.

We are persuaded to stay for a pizza and while it cooks in the wood-burning oven—smoke spiraling into a the sky--we walk the beach to find a nautilus shell. It is an “OK” Margarita pizza. Russ devours it and I try to make my way through raw onions arduously. The cold Fiji Bitter helps. Russ as usual guzzles beer like water. 

Shadows fall and we bid farewell to the Swedes and urge the stubborn Mercury engine to start. Pull that string. Check the switch. Pull the choke out. Lift the lid. Do something with something. We can’t be a spectacle for the backpackers! Whrrrrrr. It starts and off we zoom to our home afloat. Always grateful for our privacy and million-dollar views. We steal time in the cockpit until the stars shine before going below. 

Morning swims through the best coral gardens and drift dives. As usual in the morning the swimming is first on my mind. I snorkel across deep waters to the coral heads and see the most fish ever!!! I guess 300 yellow-with-vertical-black- striped fish feed on the coral and sooooo so many different varieties of fish I have not seen before. Heaven! 

I swim around a long, long time and then ease up onto the beach hoping the stone fish are out of town and lay under a tree on a cool slab of semi-wet rock. My beach boudoir. 

In the afternoon we motor up to the Tokatokanu passage where the Manta Rays swim, beginning May(they run from May to October). There is a swift current and confidence is lacking. But Russ drift dives and persuades me to go on in. So we motor up to the opposite end of the passage and in I go holding on to a line off the dinghy and drift through the deep with no sign of the Mantas as we are too early, but with schools of beautiful silver fish with blue-horizontal lines. I feel as if I belong to them and could drift in the cool deep waters forever. I could become a fish! 

Half-moon beaches. Russ dinghies up through the passage again, this time to half-moon beaches on the southern shores of Naviti. It is wonderful to walk virgin beaches. There is an inlet that opens up to a circular flat of mud punctuated by many coconuts, some sprouting. Perhaps Evan, the hurricane, had a hand in this. Perhaps this is runoff for rain. 

Wild Hibiscus hide shyly behind palms, and the hermit crabs wobble in crooked fashion toward their various destinations showcasing houses designed to fit. I feel as if I am cast away as I walk alone to the end point of the half moon and back. It feels good. I could walk forever. 

Russ has found a fish shack and a stick in the ground with a coloured cloth to guide the small craft in. We are loathe to leave, but the sun has passed the mid day skies and Zulu awaits us for cool refreshment. And it is time to leave. Onwards and upwards along the Yasawa chain. 

Places to go. There is Natuvalo bay off Korokulu Pt and Somosomo bay, Naviti where the beaches are long and white; Se Se village where there are fresh veggies in Matacawalevu, Blue lagoon; the ‘best’ anchorage in Fiji in Malakati bay, Nacula; and the destination anchorage off Sawa-I-Lau where the caves call. 

All of these were recommended to us by our South African free spirit ‘Rhodesian’ friend Geoff Deutchsmann who skippers a cat for tourists out of Denarau. Thanks to him we have places to go. Thank you Geoff!! 

Ready to leave, we pull anchor, but again the engine splutters and coughs and this time dies. We hoist sail pronto as the wind will surely blow us on the reef. Russ leaps around like an animated bull frog shouting orders and the headsail gets us back to safety. One more night of rock and roll and in the morning he changes the fuel filters. 

Aaron the lobster fisherman from the deep. Aaron visits us. He looks like a frog man. Pitch black with a snorkel and long fins balancing on a yellow kayak. We are in the dinghy. 

“Hello, my name is Aaron. Where you from?” That is the usual introductory question. Am not sure whether Fijians base their trade negotiation platform on where we are from or not, or whether it is just an ice breaker. Sometime I feel like saying darkest Africa. 

“I sell lobster (crayfish) at Octopus Resort for FJ$30 (US$17.10) each! But for you, I will sell it for FJ$25 (US$14.25)! I have no work at the resorts, I dive for fish. This is my work. Do you want to buy one?” He asks persuasively, dripping wet and looking like he’d just come up from a visit with Davey Jones. 

“How much you pay for a lobster in your country?” he asks the intelligent question for comparative insight. We say we have different kind there. Evasive to say the least. 

“How deep do you have to dive to get one of these?” Russ asks. “30 meters.” He says. “Wow that is 90 ft!” I say. He gives me a long look of yes it is not easy! 

“Do you want one?” I ask Russ knowing how much he would love a lobster with some lemon-garlic butter and white wine. 

“We don’t have any money.” He says, but I have FJ$20 tucked away. “Will you give it to us for FJ$20 (US$11.40)?” I bargain with Aaron. 

But he has one up on us and pulls out a scrawny lobster and offers it. We take it. And Russ gets into technical aspects of his Fijian homemade sling. Rudimentary to say the least, he needs to get nose-to-nose with the fish to shoot them, and be accurate to spear it. He also shows us 2 pathetic tiny reef fish he has that definitely look more dead than alive, thinking perhaps we were desperate dummies. 

 “No thanks.” I am quick to counter and Russ takes the scarecrow small lobster. 

Aaron wants some water and we fill his bottle and give him some crackers and cookies. He dove and floated on his kayak about another 2 hours waiting for the Awesome Adventure boat to come in where he could try to sell the big lobster and two pitiful reef fish. A man has got to live. 




Aaron the lobster salesman from Somo village appeared as if from a visit with Davey Jones—out of the blue. He had to dive 30 meters (90 ft) to get them and fishes with the most rudimentary sling. Russ talks technical talk with him. We bought a small one for FJ$20 (US$11.40). It did not taste good.

Last we saw him paddling toward Soso Village in Naviti---a good 3 NM paddle away. No cap, no sunglasses: just the oversized flippers and snorkel and Fijian sling and what left he carries of his catch. 

I let Russ cook the lobster (crayfish) so he can take the blame for too raw or overcooked. He eats it with a long tooth not knowing whether it is raw or overcooked, but it is chewy and not good. Disappointing for FJ$20 and not a good paring with the NZ Sauvignon Blanc! Ha ha! 

SV Lochiel finds us. Another boat is heading for Drawaqa, and seemingly right for us. 

“Mariyn!” I hear a voice from a living bow sprit calling excitedly. It is Carolyn off Lochiel from NZ! Compadres! Happy day! 

 Grant and Carolyn are from Mt. Monganui, North Island. We met them at Vuda Marina . Now our paths cross in surprise and they will grace us with their company for a few nautical miles. 

Somosomo Bay, North Naviti April 18 and 19, 2013: Lat 17 Degrees 04.94’ S, 177 Degrees 16.58’ E 

“Where are you going?” I call to Grant. “Somosomo.” He calls back. OK we’ll go there too. And mid afternoon we pull away from Drawaqa headed for Northern Naviti’s Somosomo Bay, about 7 NM away. 



SV Lochiel following us to Somosomo—as we have tracks. Grant on the boom with eagle eyes ahead. 

Lochiel follows as we have the Hacking track, so helpful as we thread through the reefs. Faith in a track is one thing, but vigilance along with it imperative. We zig zag around the reefs into a scalloped haven behind Narewa Pt and drop the hook in calm waters facing long, long, long white half-moon beaches. 

Dinner on Zulu. Along the way I roast a chicken coated with lemon-garlic-olive oil and herbs, also roast an aside of mixed veggies—potatoes, pumpkin, onions, and made a delicious gravy. Carolyn and Grant joined us shortly after they ease in a way from us to drop their hook. 

To complement the meal, Carolyn brings over the most delicious cheeses and crackers fresh from NZ a few days ago, and a Montana Sauvignon Blanc-Pinot Gris. Delightful to say the least! It is lovely to have company and catch up on all the people we became friends with at Vuda Marina during the hurricane season. 

After they leave I quickly find my bunk and Russ stays in the cockpit reading forever until book eternity: Paris 1910, Eleanor of Aquitaine (By the Wrath of God, Queen of England in the middle ages), Life after Death (The shocking true story of an innocent man on death row), and the latest: The Brotherhoods (Inside the outlaw motorcycle clubs—Hells Angels, Australia). One after another after another filling box after box perusing island library after library scrounging anywhere for new books to read. 

The midnight lobster fishermen want to take our order. “Bula!” I hear him saying out loud around midnight. Russ explained the midnight greeting the next day. 

“A fishing boat came by to take an order for a lobster if we wanted one, but I declined.” He said with a bad aftertaste in his expression. 

Of interest Grant and Carolyn, too, had bought a lobster from Aaron—Drawaqa’s lobster man-- in a bay in Mocelutu passage and figure he must have caught it at night and had it lying in that plastic bag on his kayak or in an island fish shelter about 19 hours in the heat. Hmmm. Lucky they all didn’t come down with ‘fish payback’ tummy attacks. 

The Somosomo midnight fishermen also made the midnight call on Lochiel. “Bula! How are you.” 

“SICK!” Grant said he responded and they sped away to our boat. 

Lazing around. We lazed around for two days, Grant feeling he was down with flu. I bake a cake. Walk the longest white beach yet. Swim. Drink a green coconut Russ picks and then throws far into the underbrush so the Fijians don’t see the hack job he did in opening it. Snorkel. Rest in the shade, my daily routine. 

We’re about to leave: Lochiel has left a few hours ago to pop into Blue Lagoon and then join us at either a recommended anchorage on the west coast of Nacula—Malakati Bay, or at Sawa-I-Lau. 

The spear fishing hitchhiker. A white buoy moves mysteriously through the water toward Zulu. A Fijian diver emerges. They swim for long distances for their food supply—no Whole Foods store here. He must have swum quite a way! He has a huge trevali on his line and wants a lift from A to B. I peek out from below and see him in our dinghy giving me a half-moon smile sans front teeth. Too sweet. 

Anchor up, a fishing boat appears out of nowhere and takes our hitch hiker off our hands and after a photo op, they head for the long white empty beaches we walked solitaire. 

A moving white float heads toward Zulu as we pull up the anchor. This spear fisherman emerged Then from the blue asking for a lift from A to B in our trailing dinghy. Out of nowhere a boat appears and after a photo op they take our hitchhiker with them and head for the long white beaches we explored solitaire. 

It is hard to say goodbye to beautiful places. And difficult to describe the surroundings: one niche is a tri-scalloped bay with two other unexplored anchorages. So I leave these pictures in memory of the long white beaches and stunning sunsets of Somosomo, Northern Naviti and hold the time here close to my heart with friends of kindred spirit. 



Our compadres, Grant and Carolyn, off Kiwi SV Lochiel—kindred spirits in Somosomo, Yasawas. 



 


 
 


I hold on long to the eternal white sandy beaches and stunning sunsets of Somosomo bay, Northern Naviti and let the pictures speak for themselves. A place to find yourself for sure. 

Blue Lago on: Lat 16 Degrees 57’ S, Long 177 Degrees 22’ E 

Channel 68: 

“ Lochiel, Lochiel this is Zulu. Do you copy?” 

 “Yes we copy, go ahead.” 

 “We’re rounding the corner into Blue Lagoon but will not come in. Will proceed to the ‘beautiful’ anchorage at Malakati Bay, Nacula Island. We have fish for dinner!”

 “Yes it has been a good day for fishing.” 

 “Roger, Zulu on the side.” 

We u-turn out of Blue Lagoon and its Se Se village, Back Packer, and exclusive Turtle Resort conglomerate—the latter where scruffy windblown, sunburned, overextended yachties are definitely not welcome. Who needs the Turtle Resort? I do! Smile. For at least a month!! 


Malakati Bay, Nacula Island: Lat 54 Degrees 5’ S, Long 177 Degrees 23.3' E 


Russ does not want to wreck the boat he says. That’s a change!The swell is up from the west and reefs announce themselves too fervently. 

OK we’ll skip this ‘most beautiful anchorage in Fiji’ and on we motor to Sawa-I-Lau. Lochiel follows having taken a short cut out of Blue Lagoon. They get the drift and sail with headsail up in our tracks on to Sawa-I-Lau. 

SV Lochiel sails in our tracks with headsail up on to Sawa-I-Lau. 

Sawa-I-Lau April 20 to 22, 2013: Lat 16 Degrees 50.86’ S, Long 177 Degrees 28.05’ E 

In the saddle of velvet hills the bold ‘rock’ of Sawa-I-Lau is lodged. It calls to us. 

We continue up the west coast of the Yasawas. In the saddle of velvet hills the bold ‘rock’ of Sawa-I-Lau is lodged. It calls to us. Into the passage between the two islands of North Nacula and South Yasawa we turn at 258 Degrees magnetic. 


There are gnarly reefs ahead and thanks to Michael Calder’s book, the book the Dutch on Happy Monster gave us, we change course to 313 Degrees with reefs biting a stone’s throw away from our port. On approaching the small island of Sawa-I-Lau we ease to port through 20ft waters and anchor in a MAGIC flat water spot at this truly beautiful Sawa-I-Lau. 


We ease to port through 20ft waters and anchor in a heavenly safe spot at this truly magical place. 

Magic spot. A quiet, still-watered rim of turquoise wraps itself around the ornate rock formation—the bed of what possibly is a volcanic plug? A boutique white beach and another add trim and are rimmed by dense clusters of palms. Up the face of Sawa-I- Lau dark green trees cling bonsai-like at helter skelter angles. The base of the ‘rock’ is undercut and wind worn in vertical organ-pipe folds. 



 


Close ups of our magic Sawa-I-Lau anchorage. 

SV Lochiel is close behind us and drops their hook into the blue waters close by. It is Saturday afternoon. Another leg competed. And wonderful to have another presence to share this place with. 

Fish dinner on SV Lochiel. Grant is a cool-headed sailor and Carolyn goes with his flow of slight risk—she says. He dinghies over in brilliant sunlight that bounces off water and rock and beach surface. Perfection—a smile is on his face. He has a bag of filleted Walu! He caught 3! We got one good-sized one. 

Russ pulls the carcass out the water, which he towed since he cleaned it. “What are you trying to catch a shark?” Grant asks. 

 “No I got lazy and forgot to let it go. Will take it out into deep waters and get rid of it.” Our friend Christian from NZ would kill Russ for this as it does attract sharks around the boat. 

“Fish dinner tonight!! On Lochiel. Come before sunset!!” 

“We’ll be there.” 

Lochiel is a fiber glass center-cockpit sloop, built in NZ. It is a well maintained, tight boat and a pleasure to dine on. The name is Scottish and comes from the leader of the Cameron (sp) Clan. It means strength and leadership. Grant being Irish toyed with ditching it, but kept it when ironically his father’s business was called the same name. 

The sun setting casts a most beautiful light on us happy sea gypsies. We sip light Vodka and soda-mango-lime drinks with ice and miniature tangerine accents floating on the surface in tall glasses. Who needs Turtle resort at Blue Lagoon! This is 12 star! 

I brought Qaucamole and salsa-flavoured grain waves, wild rice medley, carrot cake slices with custard and cream, and a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. We share this with Carolyn’s delicious Greek salad and Grant’s perfectly filleted Walu pan-fried in butter as the wind blew the flames of the BBQ out. Yum!! Delicious! Best fish EVER. 

Wind and rain follow, still we explore a hidden inlet. Sleep. Rain. Wake up to grey skies. Read and rest all day. I have a low-grade ‘flu’ too. The wind generator has a grinding effect on my nerves as it spins. I hide away below decks trying to get better. 

Still Russ and I, being from rainy Seattle, take a small adventure to get off Zulu. The Google Earth overlay on our electronic charts shows an inlet you would never guess existed between the two wind worn rock heads. We head that way and explore the extraordinary and different rock faces of Sawa-I-Law and see where the inlet flows out into the deep Bligh Waters where soon we will go. 

Absolutely phenomenal variety of rock formation created through time and energy and power and movement: some like stag horn coral; horizontal cracks sliced through sections of sharp-edged squares at various and sundry angles as if moved over the top layer in balancing acts; spirals; heaps of conglomerate sewn together by time into great balls; a ridge of vertical folds with spiked tops.

A miniature beach. A heron so still it looks as if it is carved from stone. A Kingfisher-type bird dressed in turquoise-royal blue with a white necklace around a black neck and head—feathered perfection—looking, too, as if it was a carving atop a pinnacle.

Sawi-I-Lau IS magic and our dinghy trip into ‘Google’s overlay’ is punctuated by a rainbow that graces gray skies.

Rain falls heavily and we race to close hatches and boil water for a cup of tea.

 

  
 

There is a ‘hidden’ inlet in between these two wind worn rock heads you would never guess existed. Google Earth points to its accessibility. We head that way to explore and find that it exits into the deep Bligh Waters where we will soon go. 



Caves. A cave lies in the heart of the huge rock island. Because it is Sunday and not a soul stirs the beaches of Nabukeru village, we decide to find the cave ourselves for a sneak preview. We beach the dinghy, climb rickety stairs up and over rocks and find a huge steel yellow door shut, but not locked. We open it and descend the stairs into the cave. 

 “Mind your head.” A handwritten sign reads. Down we go into the eeriness of damp and otherworldly rock formation. It is so silent in the heart of this cave your thinking virtually echoes. 

Still, dark green waters lurk as floor-to-beige and green and salmon curtains of folded ‘soap’ stone hang from a cathedral ceiling. For once in my life I do not take the plunge and dive underwater to the secondary chamber. It does not call me. I feel lost in the stillness so let it be and walk away back up the stairs, nearly bumping my head and out into the light of day. 


A cave lies in the heart of the rock. Still, dark green waters lurk as a floor-to-beige and green and salmon curtains of folded ‘soap’ stone hang from a cathedral ceiling. The water does not call me. I let it be and walk away into the light of day. 


No one stirs the beaches on this Sunday morning. 


Workers going from Nabukeru village to the cave on a Monday morning expecting tourists to arrive. They are in charge of the BBQ area. 

Lucky we got our preview on Sunday. 

It is time to leave. Lochiel leaves on Monday and we will miss their presence, the calming reflection of their anchor light in the waters at night , and the sweet image of their bobbing boat in the day. 

More than the wind has worn me down and with the gray and wind and rain around us having robbed us of colour, the magic seems to have gone away. We will leave early tomorrow morning, Tuesday. 

 It has been rewarding navigating our way up the Yasawas, finding anchorages, swimming in fish domain, walking endless beaches solitaire, discovering windows into nature’s most amazing secrets—beauty. And into discovering friends along the way. I sleep with images unsurpassed. Who said if you’ve seen one island, you’ve seen them all? That is not true. They're custom made by the elements of time.