Category Archives: Family

Kava Ceremony, Tavarua, Fiji

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The Kava ceremony is one of the central Fijian traditions.  When visiting a village it is customary to honor the chief by participating in the ceremony and presenting him with the Kava root.  The local village people dress in traditional costume, adorned with flowers and leaves.  The visitors sit on the floor lining a long mat.  After the chief has spoken and welcomed the people to his village, and the gifts of Kava have been given to the chief, the kava root that has been ground and diluted with water is distributed to each person.  Kava promotes relaxation and helps to relieve stress.  We all agreed it tastes a little like rotting trees, but after downing a cupful, your throat and tongue become slightly numb and the next cup isn’t so bad. The ceremony was followed by a traditional Fijian meal, music and dancing.  It was a beautiful event that will live long in all of our memories.

 

 

 

Wylie’s 15th Birthday – Tavarua

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Excerpt from my journal, April 22nd

 The boys were up before the sun rose.  I was only slightly aware of the movement in the room, but awake enough to know that I wanted to eek out another hour of sleep.  I rolled over and in my slightly wakened state, remembered it was Wylie’s birthday.  I mumbled a “happy birthday” that must have been clear enough to understand, because he replied with a very prompt and awake, “Thanks, mom!”.  I could hear the excitement in his voice.  He was celebrating his 15th birthday on a remote island in the South Pacific surrounded by world-class surfing.  I didn’t need to open my eyes to know that he had an ear-to-ear grin on his face.   In his mind, he had already ridden Cloud Break.  He had already been barreled.  Now he was making his dream a reality and on his birthday no less.

 

While the boys were out surfing, Aimee and I wrapped Wylie’s gifts and arranged them on his bed to await his return.  He had already opened his first gift – new fins for his surfboard.  His second gift didn’t need to be wrapped or opened.  It came in the form of water, in the shape of a wave.   Each wave he caught that morning was a gift.  For him, the best gift of all was to be here on Tavarua, riding waves and forming memories of a lifetime.  I loved that he understood the value of this experience and appreciated every moment.

 

As he walked through the door, the smile was even bigger than I imagined.  His eyes had captured the blue of the ocean and sparkled like the late afternoon sun on the water.  A lump formed in my throat.  I was flooded with emotion.  I held back a tear as I went over to give him a big birthday hug. My son was now 15 years old.  He was taller than me, stronger than me, and in so many ways, more intelligent than me.  I call him my sage.  He is the calming force in my life.  When things get hectic, he is the one to lay a hand on my shoulder and tell me everything is all right. 

We all gathered on Wylie’s bed and watched him open each gift.  There were just a few small items that we had bought during our travels.  There was a carved wooden

mask and tiki from Tahiti, a new brush and body spray, and a t-shirt with a Kiwi using his beak as a record player needle.  But, his favorite gift of all was the possum fur shoe inserts that we found in New Zealand.  He had seen them in a store and fell in love with them.  He was so excited when he discovered that we had bought them for him.  He couldn’t wait to “rock the awesome, possum, feet”!

Waidroka Bay, Fiji

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April 15th

We all knew the routine pretty well by now.  Go to the bathroom, get out passports and papers, head to customs, try to be first in line or the wait could be endless, collect bags, wait for surf boards to come out, go through agriculture inspection, go to a cell phone kiosk, pick up a sim card, find a working ATM to withdraw money in the new currency and find transportation.  We also knew that not everything goes smoothly when traveling, so when they didn’t have any portable WiFi devices in stock and the store in town was closed, the ATM was broken, and our shuttle driver didn’t show up, we rolled with it. 

Luckily, the woman at the info kiosk was super helpful and within minutes we had contacted the surf resort and we were loading up our boards on top of a taxi (think Endless Summer in Africa with the Taxi and surfboards).   The taxi wasn’t quite as nice as the air conditioned van they promised us, but at least we were moving forward.

As the sun set, we were still driving to Waidroka Bay.  It was a 2 ½ hour drive. The smell of exhaust and the heat of the engine seeping up through the floorboards couldn’t help but make us all a little nauseous and car sick.  Hot and tired, I finally saw the sign for Serua, the village of our destination.  The dirt road that leads to the surf camp ascends a small mountain and then descends to the ocean.  We listened to the sound of metal grinding on the road under the car and the occasional ping of car parts dropping from the underside of the taxi.  Now we were not only holding our breath to prevent asphyxiation but also in fear of breaking down in the dark on a remote dirt road.   Finally, the sign for the Waidroka Bay Resort came into view and within minutes we were all  breathing a little easier.

Gil, one of the surf guides greeted us at the door without an apology for having forgotten us at the airport.  “It happens,” was all he said.  At least we were there safely with four plates of food to fill our hungry bellies.  We headed to our Bure, avoiding the over population of frogs and toads on the pathway.  Willie got the low down on the morning surf plans and soon we were fast asleep.

Saying goodbye to New Zealand

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April, 15th

Three days ago we returned our RV.  We were ready to move on.  New Zealand was beautiful but we were all excited to get back to warmer weather and water.

 RV Living in very close proximity to each other.

Not much room to dance.

  Aimee especially.  It had been a rough month for her. The sand flies, jelly fish stings and bed bugs left bites like the Southern Hemisphere constellations all over her body.  She had red rolling hills across her arms and face from the inflammation.  The medications took the edge off but never really got the itching under control.

When the Tui rental camper shuttle delivered us to our hotel we all looked a little rough from camping for the past month. We had been using public toilets, showers and laundromats.   By week four, we started looking like our clothes – not quite clean, pilled and faded.  We were ready to look and feel fresh again.  We were ready to return to the warm water and sun of the tropics.

 Our hotel in Christchurch was a good start. We all had space to stretch out, go to the bathroom in privacy and dry off with a fluffy clean towel.  There was a pool, hot tub, sauna and restaurant that we took full advantage of. Don’t get me wrong, RV living had been fun, but it was camping. We had been in the camper for many hours each day, traveling across windy roads, often rough and dirty. It felt good to get our land legs back and not have to worry about the timed showers stopping while you still had conditioner in your hair or only one leg shaved.

We woke on the morning of April 15th and boarded our plane to Fiji.  This time we were prepared.  When they asked for our departure itinerary from Fiji, I proudly pulled out our flight confirmation for 4 passengers to Brisbane, Australia.  I had successfully avoided a repeat of our experience when trying to leave Tahiti. 

 It was a quick flight from Christchurch to Auckland and then a 4 hour flight to Nadi, Fiji. My plan was to catch up on some writing and work on the blog, but I indulged in a free movie instead.   I reclined, drank my sparkling water, and let myself escape to that wonderful world of cinema.  Before I knew it, we were touching down and stepping outside on another island in the South Pacific.  The eighth island of our Pacific Tour.  We welcomed the warm and humid air.  The moisture put a curl in my hair and instantly erased the lines around my eyes and forehead.  Within days, we would all have that tropical glow again. 

Trying to leave New Zealand.

 

Leaving New Zealand.

Greymouth to the Glaciers

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Greymouth

When we arrived at Greymouth, the only waves to surf were concrete.

National Kiwi Center, Hokitika, West Coast, South Island


Kiwis are New Zealand’s national bird.  We had no idea that they are nocturnal and rarely seen by humans.  We ended up going to the National  Kiwi Center that keeps a couple of Kiwis at a time in captivity.  Unfortunately, we were not allowed to photograph them.  The center also has a tank of giant eels, like the ones we saw in the rivers of Tahiti.  In an attempt to get over our fear of them, we fed them.  I’m not sure if it helped or made it worse.

Willie needed a quick surf fix, so he randomly turned down this dirt road called “Beach Street”.  We found a gnarly beach break and a beautiful place to camp for the night.  A local later told us that he had never seen any one surf this break.  Hmmm…I wonder why?

As if the waves weren’t gnarly enough, these large pieces of drift wood were floating in the water.

Aimee surfing the driftwood.

Sunset with driftwood.

We woke in the morning to our first view of Mt. Cook.