Wailea...

Wailea!  Papa? How many months? 5 weeks? Ni Sa... Baby boy? Ni sa... Born here? Fiji baby? Wailea! Can I hold? Ni Sa... Bula papa!
It's hard to get anywhere in Fiji without Ravi causing quite a stir. Fijians love children in a way that's often commented on; even by people not trying to get across the market in order to catch a bus with a babe in arms. There's warmth and positivity towards all children here more noticeable than anywhere else we've been but common to all island communities. It's deep in the culture.

Wailea is a general exclamation word similar to wow. Ni Sa shows warmth and is added to lots of greetings but is used on its own to coo over Ravi. Papa is the Fijian word for baby. Fijians everywhere we go want to give Ravi cuddles. They pinch his cheeks, they stroke his arms and sniff his head showing affection similar to a kiss. Children come up and kiss him then parade him round their friends. 

Any Fijian you encounter can be willingly entrusted with holding the baby if you're trying to do something. Where else would a lone man wandering past be delighted when a tiny one only a few weeks old is thrust in their arms? It means that dragging the dinghy up the beach or rearranging shopping bags is a breeze. Given half the chance they'll keep him as long as they can; no one's ever too busy to gush over a baby. In Fiji time everything else can wait.




The school kids and Lani the teacher at these boy's school would shout Ravi Ravi from the shore out to the boat for him to come and play

The ladies in this supermarket said they would baby sit him 'come back for him when he's 12!'

Tom the chief of the village of Yalobi on Waya, Ravi with Mary who, pleased to see we used cloth nappies gave us a big one from her boys 'all grown up now'

These kids had never ventured up the path scaling the hillside but scampered up alongside us if it meant they could hang out with Ravi just a little longer... 

We're pottering along nicely here. We thought the passport might take some time and we weren't wrong... There have been several tedious stumbling blocks the trickiest of which has been getting the right background for the photo. Our first attempt was to use a photographer in town but not only was it rejected because the background was wrong, it was also technically too small and missing a border. Ridiculous we know, but it's not as easy as you might think finding a suitably coloured and clean sheet, then getting him to hold his head square on it without wrinkles. Hopefully we've finally found a solution and together with all the extra forms and proof required, the UK passport authority should be processing it any day now.

A few photos that didn't make the cut

    
 

Life continues as normal here in the meantime.  Alongside handwashing around 15 nappies a day, we've still got boat projects and fixing things as they fail. In the last month or so we've been keeping on top of the varnishing and trying to figure out why the engine wasn't starting so well.  In the end the culprit was the injectors which have now been serviced and in the mean time our exhaust muffler developed a leak and so we've re-designed that system to make it more convenient and less likely to fail in the future.  Also our main halyard winch pulled out of the mast whilst sailing.  It made a dent in the mast but could have been much worse.  It's now through bolted to the staysail winch on the other side and all the old holes are plugged. Sitka spruce whilst being light and strong does not take fittings well.  Thankfully we made the mast solid at that point so this is no problem and we're glad we already overbored and epoxied the mast track screw holes.

We had a lovely couple of weeks out at Waya staying by the village of Yalobi.  We liked it so much we are wending our way back there now.  We hope to give them our old main sail as we think the villagers will put it to good use as a shelter or for drying pandanus in order to make the mats they weave.  It's quite an industrious village what with the big boarding school serving the surrounding islands and with visits from cruise ships most weeks. It's still very much a traditional village though with a chief and a laid back friendly feel.

Yalobi village, Waya.

Ravi enjoying the sunrise outside

We tried to encourage Ravi to look at the camera but he was too overwhelmed by the sight of his beautiful wooden mast so we went with that look instead.  Along with Ravi's first photos we've lost our straightening program with our dead hard drive. A necessary tool when taking photos on a boat!

We're taking him for regular dips. Baby steps.

We lost the path on the walk up to the ridge so eventually had to abort, I was barefoot but the main problem was the mosquitoes and the sun getting higher.

Waya on the way out, we'll be back

Heeled right over he was oblivious... until we tacked!

Life never gets boring on a boat, if nothings happening you can just dance to the windscoop fluttering...

Or laugh at the clouds...



Our bright eyed boy is getting more interactive all the time...

So I'm sure some of you might be wondering how it's all going. Truthfully it's great. We can't compare parenting on land but there are loads of things great about parenting on our boat. The trickiest is probably how careful we need to be with him and the sun.  He's fine around town or rowing about as he's quite happy to have a sarong flung over his head and generally goes to sleep or has a feed. However we've found that even just the reflected sun from the water out in the cockpit has to be carefully rationed and when going for a swim not only does he risk burning but also gets cold very quickly too. All part of the learning curve! Hopefully from the photos you can see how good a time we're having, probably the most important is that we have the time to really enjoy it. All those boat jobs can wait.  We're on Ravi time.

Ravi in his carseat having a gentle sail back for his check up and immunisations

First week in the life of a newborn sailor...

If you read our blog for anecdotal and sometimes comical accounts of sailing tales from the high seas, then we apologise.  On Saturday 24th September our lives changed forever for the better when our son was born.  Normal service will resume shortly; our next big passage should be in around 6 weeks time or so but until then it's wall to wall baby pictures and gushy soppy prose.

Ravi Arthur Fagg had a hard time trying to get out and in the end was born around midday by caesarian section 36 hours after my waters first broke. Fiji has a caesarian rate of around 12% as opposed to most of the Western world being in the 25-30% region and the USA even higher at 33% (WHO). They don't do them readily here but if it's absolutely necessary they can.

He was born uttering a lusty cry and continued to do so the next half hour whilst they cleaned him, checked him and sewed me up until he was brought to have his first suckle and relaxed straight in to our little family. Duncan and I have both never been so relieved.

   


Thus he began his lifetime of experiences. The world outside is a confusing and concerning place for a newborn and you can see it in their faces. The first touches they feel, the first smells and light; they react instinctively to begin with, moving towards or away according to preprogrammed responses.

We were lucky that I recovered so quickly from the operation most likely influenced by the extreme euphoria I was feeling to have him OK after those difficult hours. When visiting time was over at 7pm Duncan was evicted from our company by the severe maternity unit security guard. At this time due to the spinal I'd had, I was still wide awake but could not move my legs. Nevertheless I was left on my own with Ravi to take care of with no obvious way of summoning help. 

Duncan was careful to make sure I had everything I might need within reach and got me comfy before he left. Had I had a girlfriend available to help that would have been encouraged, they just had a strict no men outside visiting hours policy despite there being posters about the place encouraging father's involvement... It was sad him heading home so early and alone.

An hour or so later the nurse came to take Ravi for his first bath. Can I come help? I asked, keen to keep him near and learn what they did. Can you walk? She replied quizzically then looked back in disbelief as I slowly heaved myself after her down the corridor. My abdomen was still numb but otherwise the spinal effects had worn off. Later that night the doctor tried and failed to cannulate him so he had his first intra muscular injection poor mite.

Ravi slept his first night only waking a couple of times and being given a suckle and lots of cuddles. We both had to stay in the hospital three days for antibiotics and monitoring then finally we were allowed to go home. He had his first taxi ride in his first thunder storm but as Duncan had left all the hatches open when leaving the boat at anchor that morning, he rowed out to shut them in the thrashing rain then we all stayed in a nice dry air conditioned bungalow for our first night together. 

This was disappointing as we were desperate to be home for his first night as a family but Ravi had been suffering a bit from the heat and mosquitoes at the hospital so we thought the AC would be good where a hot soggy boat probably would not help his rash. That night at the marina bar he was the star attraction whilst we caught up with some friends. In the end Duncan went to find him to spend some Pappa time to find Ravi quite happy asleep on a Fijian lady.  His first night out at a bar.

The next afternoon we rowed out and were finally home. Duncan pulled up the anchor and Ravi went for his first sail aged 4 days old. We were only going a few miles and the wind was at our back until we tacked into the anchorage; still only with our Yankee jib; to the whoops and celebratory hollers of friends there cheering Ravi in.

We had some photos from this sail however sadly our hard drive has failed and so they are lost.  Thankfully Doug on Renegade snapped these as we sailed past him.

And Ravi helping get the anchor ready on the foredeck...

5 days old and it was time to start Ravi's passport application. We rowed in and caught the bus to the city and started the merry dance to get his birth certificate. As we're not married we were told Duncan's name could not be on it by the nurses. However, we found out there was a way; it just meant jumping through some hoops in various offices. Ravi managed this long day with aplomb. We were exhausted! 

Ravi's first paperwork and passport photo; rocking the Ramones babygrow at 5 days old!

The next day we all had a very well earned rest.  Ravi not only heard his very first Beatles album but was also subjected to his very first 'The Archers Omnibus', it was a pivotal one including Helens trial.  We were a bit behind what with one thing and another...

Grannie made him a lovely quilt to lie on at home and to take to the beach



Our sailor boy has a cyclone in the middle of his forehead!

Ganesh Chaturti!

We hear this train every night and saw it yesterday whilst out for a walk, slowly rumbling along its track bound from the fields into Lautoka, sugar city. We too have slowed down, rumbling towards our momentous trip into Lautoka when it's time to become three. It won't be long now, as the mangoes ripen on the trees our precious load grows ever more ready.

With our due date just a week away now our check up appointments have been becoming more frequent and so we sail in ever decreasing circles; out away from the city and returning back. Last month we felt brave enough to venture to the top of the Yasawa Islands.  Many of the anchorages were rolly up there so when we found Nanuya to be flat and calm we stayed longer, despite the resorts nearby.  This was where 'The Blue Lagoon' film was shot with Brooke Shields back in 1980.  It was surprisingly both quiet and convivial with beautiful water for swimming, lots of friendly cruisers passing through, a farm to visit nearby for veggies and nice walks.






Sailing Fidget on the Blue lagoon

We spent a couple of weeks anchored off more remote villages where it was saddening to see and hear how much damage had been done by cyclone Winston earlier this year.  The crops are not fully recovered and people were obviously struggling.  It must be so disheartening re-cultivating, rebuilding, and re-roofing knowing that it may happen again each year.

Somehow Fijians still manage to be welcoming when you go to pay your respects to the chief asking to be granted 'SevuSevu'.  This is a traditional ritual where a visitor presents an offering; usually Kava (in Fiji called Yaquona) a mildly narcotic root which is prepared and drunk in a ceremonial way.  In return the chief then extends the welcome of the village to share in their space.

When the supply boat from the mainland came the whole village came out to greet those returning with goodies.  Very possibly this is more of a highlight than usual with such little food available locally.





Closer to home (or more importantly hospital) are the Mamanuca islands, we stayed at Yanuya and it's nearby 'Tom Hanks Island!' where we were told much of the movie Castaway was filmed.



Also nearby the very beautiful Monuriki.  Not an easy anchorage but worth it when the weather is right.



One of the absolute delights of Fiji is that as well as the rich Melanesian culture of the indigenous population there is also the charm of the other half of the population who were originally from India and have kept their cultural, religious and traditional practices alive.  We have met people whose families were originally from Sri Lanka, Bangladesh and Pakistan but most were indentured from rural Northern India back when Fiji and India were part of the British empire.  It seems they were mostly brought to work in the sugar business originally and are now third and fourth generation Fijians.

Fiji is a little like stepping in to a wonderland of India nestled in to the South Pacific islands. We've met only one intermarried couple in our time here, mostly the Indians and Melanesians maintain a slight distance whilst apparently getting along pretty well.  Politics has been a problem.  At 37.5% the Indo-Fijians mostly live on the main islands and are inclined to vote for Indo-Fijian parties.  When they get into power the Melanesians and Polynesians have risen up and forcibly changed the government.  The last of four coup d'etats over the preceding twenty years was in 2009. Peace appears to be reigning at the moment with a Fijian Prime minister who is a champion of equal rights for the ethnic Indian community and a president who is of a minority outer island descent.

As anyone who has ever experienced the joy of a Hindu festival will know its an explosion to the senses. Brightly coloured powder paint are daubed on all, coupled with intricately decorated gods and vibrant sari's. Burnt incense adds to the aroma of roadside food stalls. Then there's the music and general cheer. Its hard to mistake a festival for anything but.

We were on our boat when we heard the cymbals crash and the Shehnai players start to blow a welcome for the first of many clay gods to arrive. Ganesh Chaturthi is the festival celebrating the God of knowledge, Ganesh. He is prayed to at this time so any new pursuits one embarks upon flourish. Which for us is rather appropriate.

A few days prior to us joining in on the festivities a clay model of Ganesh would have been placed in places of work, homes and temples where they are worshiped, made offerings to and entrusted with wishes. At the end of the festival the model is immersed in a body of water where it dissolves over time signifying the circle of life. We were welcomed to join in; powdered paint daubed on our faces and we were given sweets. At the close of the festivities the idols with offerings were loaded onto fishing boats, taken the other side of the reef and pushed over into the tropical azure.

The bump and grind of sailing...

We all know that life is full of ups and downs but the sailing life can often feel like it's even more dichotomous.  Apart from our good news we've been quiet for the last two months for a reason. We had a very boisterous sail from New Zealand to Fiji. 1,100 miles in 8 days without any motoring. Then we had a little accident.

I was sick for much of this journey to Fiji, mainly due to the short cross seas. We were on a reach to beam reach most of the way. Australia was getting pounded to our West with floods and high winds but we suffered from very few squalls, just plenty of wind. So we arrived both tired, and I, particularly energy depleted.

We had a few hours sleep just inside the reef before a blissfully gentle sail over to Lautoka. Here we started the check in process and were able to contact Sally, our friend.  Sally had arrived the previous day to visit us and was waiting with bated breath at a hotel near the airport.

Checking in took longer than we thought and once checked in we then needed to apply for a cruising permit in order to be allowed to leave Lautoka port area. Since it was now too late in the day we arranged to apply for this at a marina nearer to Sally and went to see her, arriving at her beach in the dark.

The next day the correct officials were not to be where we'd been told, so it was another day before we could apply and finally get our permission to sail to the islands. Once we were finally permitted it was late in the day. We were feeling pretty bad for Sally at this point who had already spent four days of her short holiday, waiting for it to start. Two days at not particularly comfortable anchorages and dinghying in less than ideal circumstances.

So we finally set off, poured ourselves a G and T and headed over towards an island about 15 miles away. There was a lovely breeze and we set sail with just our jib rolling along. As dusk fell so did the rain which gradually turned into a squall. We were sailing along at somewhere between six and seven knots when it started to dawn on me that I could hear and then see breaking waves then SCRUNCH.

Duncan hurtled out and rolled away the jib with eyes wild with panic. I was still holding the tiller not knowing what else to do.

We were well and truly aground with waves breaking into the reef and the boat banging up and down in place.

We tried motoring off in reverse. Wondering each time we were lifted on a wave if this might be the time we might just move backwards only to come down with a sickening crash each time in the same place. The engine stopped a few times, was restarted, then eventually whizzed away clearly with no resistance.

'We've lost the prop!' shouted Duncan against the crunching and the wind and waves. Despite the bilges at this point still being dry we decided it was time to call in a mayday as with every crash we worried for the hull.

Sally has just completed her VHF course in the uk so she was set doing this whilst Duncan and I battled about with ropes, anchors and the dinghy. Frequently checking Sally was OK and reassuring her that yes we needed help, preferably a tow but at this time did not want rescuing off the boat.

It was at least an hour and a half before we finally freed ourselves and got some water under our keel. Not before sustaining a few minor injuries each whilst deluged in adrenaline and rain.

It was our second anchor which got us out of trouble. After our main anchor, set with 100m of rope behind us hadn't succeeded we got all our available ropes out. I proceeded to tie them together and feed them out through the forward fairlead whilst Duncan rowed out against the wind as far as he could perpendicular to the boat.

As we took turns winching at the mast bringing in rope after rope we thanked our lucky stars that we had all the stuff we needed, a strong boat and each other. The tidal range is only about a metre here but we were helped by this at least going in our favour.

Once we were afloat again and still had no water in the bilge we double checked that there was enough of our huge rudder left to be able to steer. Though clearly it had been damaged and was stiff at its outer limits it appeared sufficient. Here's a picture from when we were lifted in Texas to demonstrate why we were concerned. Since our propeller was gone we envisaged extensive damage to all that lower section of rudder and weren't sure if the bottom hinge (gudgeon and pintale) remained.

Though things were still far from peachy we agreed to cancel the mayday and say thanks but no thanks to the tow which had been arranged but was standing by at the nearest marina. They had been unwilling to set out to help us until the bad weather had passed which worked in our favour as salvage rules mean that if they'd helped, they would be entitled to charge whatever they liked. Up to the entire value of the boat possibly.

An option would be to stay put where we were. Since both our big anchors were out on rope we were too concerned that either the wind might change or a rope might wear through on the coral. Our particular squall had now passed but there was still plenty of weather rumbling around the sky to make it unpredictable. Duncan and I agreed that this wasn't the best thing to do tonight. We agreed that we would sail back to the marina entrance we'd left that afternoon.

This wasn't a particularly easy option either since the weather was unsettled with very light wind at that time. We also weren't at all sure we'd be able to get either anchor back onboard. Whilst deliberating our options poor Sally was outside trying to recover from all the excitement and feeling very sick.

As suspected we couldn't get either anchor up and it was too dark to go looking to see why this was. Without use of the engine we only had one direction of pull and we were still nearer the reef than was conducive to much messing about. We agreed to buoy them with fenders with our contact details on and leave them. We still had all our chain onboard together with a tiny Danforth and big aluminium fortress anchor which we'd never used before but should technically be ideal for the soft mud conditions we knew were outside the marina entrance.

Duncan enjoyed his sail back across the bay. We were very careful to keep to our outward track. Once I was confident he was OK and that the adrenaline was dissipating Sally and I had a well earned rest. I couldn't really sleep but lay still with my eyes shut trying very hard to calm down. It had all been a bit much!

The next day Duncan went to survey the damage done and came up with pretty good news. The damage was limited to surface scrapes, a gnarled up edge of rudder and a ground away propeller. Nevertheless we arranged to get pulled out at the marina. The rudder is plywood wrapped in fibreglass and would be soaking in water and we were pretty sure we'd need to order a new propeller as the chances of finding one in Fiji were very slim.

Somehow that small list of jobs became almost 6 weeks on the hard. It was hot and dusty and hard work in the heat. We had to wait for the new propeller to be made and sent from New Zealand and more bottom paint to come from Australia but mostly the time was taken up cutting back the rudder to splice in then fair in the repairs and lots of other jobs we took the opportunity of doing whilst we had chance.

 The stem was probably the worst damaged but was still ground back and patched up within the first week.

 The plywood of the rudder feathered out where we'd tried to reverse back over the coral.

Scratches were all pretty shallow in the hull and mostly on the port side as that was the way we'd between heeling.

 Not much left of the 18" diameter propeller

We cut out much more of the rudder than was damaged so that the repair would be strong. Quite deep in we found bits of coral that had been rammed in.

With offcuts of wood spliced in reshaped, filled and fibreglassed it was all ready to be painted again.

So we made our new staysail (cut down from an old bigger sail we'd acquired along the way). We finally fitted our new lexan in our centre hatch and cut and shaped our new Corian kitchen worktops. Both these jobs much better done on the hard so we could gather up the plastic shavings and dust rather than risk them going in the sea.

We were so pleased with our limestone tiles when we first fitted them only three years ago but they have not survived well.  It was a constant struggle to keep them clean and the mould and cracks were winning so when we found Corian very cheap for offcuts in New Zealand we jumped at the chance.

We scraped back and varnished our toerails and rudder cheeks. Also with the force of pounding up and down on the reef and possibly when trying to get off backwards we'd somehow managed to seriously bend Beryl (our Aries windvanes) stainless mount. Thankfully Beryl was fine so we got a local welder to cut and replace some of the struts. It's still not quite straight but much better and seems to work.

Beryl's mounting got a bit bent from the force on the servo which also was damaged and repaired with foam filler and fibreglass...

Now we're back in the water and the whole ordeal slips in to the past we've had some time to reflect on what we have gleaned from the whole affair:

We are amazed at how little damage there was given the severity of the incident. Our boat is strong and well built and we now have even more confidence in it.

In retrospect it was a mistake to try motoring off when we had sailed on at such a lick. When the engine had stopped once we should have moved to a different tactic. We've had cause to pull ourselves off and through things a few times now (though nothing like this before) and it works really well. We should remember this in future and not let urgency cloud our thinking. It's easy and quick to turn to the engine and if it works early on all well and good. However when you're really aground pulling the boat towards deeper water using an anchor and winch is a clear winner. Had we done this earlier the rudder would have been less damaged and we'd have still had a useable propeller.

We're embarrassed about the whole affair as we just shouldn't have been there. Various things conspired for us to make poor decisions but we're moving on with much more caution.

The reef we hit was on the paper chart however when we'd tried to buy one earlier that day the shop had been out of stock.  Our open cpn cm93 (freebie) charts are not at all good for Fiji, and asking around cruisers there are no charts of Fiji which can truly be fully relied upon. We were also being blasé, having been in the well charted New Zealand for a while. The way to navigate around the coral is well known to be always to move early in daylight hours keeping a constant vigilant look out and to also use satellite imagery to help see where the coral is. To that extent as soon as we can source some suitable timber we shall be making ratlines to climb high to look out as the view up high makes the water colours and breaking waves easier to spot.

We've now got Google earth downloaded for Fiji and will be getting it for wherever we go in future if possible. What we have is not all high resolution but in time we'll figure it out and when it is in high resolution it's massively helpful.

The yard wasn't an altogether terrible experience. The staff were really helpful and friendly. Whilst there we met person after person who had similar tales to tell culminating in hearing that on the 15th July the Fijian navy embarrassingly ran a ship onto a well known reef outside Suva.

We've gained a new pet. This is midnight rambler (because he has sticky fingers) who must have come aboard whilst we were on land. We're welcoming him and hoping he'll help us deal with all the bugs which plagued the marina we were doing our repairs at, particularly the cockroaches and ants.

Now we're eventually out sailing the Yasawa islands as intended. I've finally finished sewing our flag for Fiji and we're enjoying frequent swims and gradually getting things ship shape.

This is a Waloo or Spanish mackerel, since getting away from the busy areas the fishing had been great!