Fiji

Three weeks after leaving Gisborne, we arrived somewhat bedraggled in Suva. Our first ocean passage was definitely a shake-down trip. It had been fourteen days of rough, brutal beating to windward. But we arrived in Fiji as ocean sailors with tremendous confidence in our abilities as sailors, cooks and navigators. More importantly, we now had no doubts about Franda II's seaworthiness.

Franda II was in shambles below. We girls ended up with our mattresses on the floor, as there was less movement at the waterline. Some salt water had found its way through the slightly open hatch when we tried to get some fresh air below. So our bedding was damp and sticky.

It had been a rough introduction for mum - the navigator. She did not like sailing and was often scared in Kohara when dad had her heeling enough to channel water into the cockpit. When the watery sun peeped out every few days, mum would snatch a sight with her sextant. She would jam her body tight against something solid and wrap her arms around it, freeing her hands to work the sextant. However, she still needed to leave her upper body free to maintain a stationary position while Franda II moved around her, which was impossible. However, Fiji appeared when and where mum told us it would.

Franda II squeezed between two other foreign yachts and tied stern to. Stu rowed the warp ashore, climbed up the sea wall, and tied the end with a bowline to a ring set in the concrete, especially for this purpose. Meanwhile, Kap and I had been kept busy fending the other boats off with the fenders as Franda II winched, stern first, into the narrow space.

After berthing, immigration and customs came and cleared us in. We were now allowed onshore to stretch our legs. Walking more than 30 steps in any direction was a great feeling. It should have been nice to be on solid land that didn't move. But as often written in books, "the land moves for the sailor fresh ashore".

Our berth was on the Esplanade, just opposite The Tradewinds hotel. All visiting yachts had access to the pool, bar and computer games. These games were Pacman and Tennis, I would sit at a small table with a screen embedded in it, and putting my coin into the slot, I would enjoy playing the simple game. It was a basic grey-scale game by today's standards, but it was new and different for me.

Now on land, Kap & I quickly adapted to being the primary food purchasers and, with Dad's help, learnt about bargaining in the markets. One situation that opened my eyes was seeing the prices quadruple when the cruise ships came in. So we quickly learnt to avoid visiting the markets on these days.

Dad explained that in most local markets worldwide, bargaining is trying to get the best price possible and a means of entertainment. Retailers are not interested in you quickly paying and leaving. Instead, they want to spend an hour or so, in the discussion, over tea or coffee and turn it into a meaningful transaction. After all, they have a day to fill in and only a few items to sell.

With this knowledge, Kap and I would spend time in the markets chatting and making friends with the stallholders, buying what Franda II required for the next few days. Over the month, we connected with some more than others and moved our buying to their stalls. When the time came to resupply for the next ocean leg, the time spent in relationship building came to the fore. We were offered a great price and, more importantly, the fresher vegetables collected from "out the back".

We girls wanted to buy a few touristy items from the markets, so we went to that part of the market daily. Looked at things, asked the price and went home empty-handed. Having visited so often, we had seen what other people paid. Fortified with that knowledge and what items we wanted, we were ready to bargain or thought we were. Bargaining is a joust of will and can be very entertaining.

In our first bargaining effort, we did OK but were still happily ripped off. We had only paid what we thought was reasonable but still thought we should have gotten a better price. However, Dad told us we did well if we paid what we thought was a fair price and that there was no point in thinking afterwards that we could have paid less. Then, we realised that we should have decided our maximum price before entering into a bargaining process and stuck to it, especially with a slippery professional. This lesson stood us in good stead for the rest of our travels.

Another lesson learned was that if newspapers can't get your story correct, how much else is incorrect? The local reporter wrote about us as we had sailed from one Bay of Islands to another Bay of Islands, getting quite a few details wrong. The first of many interviews and photos for newspapers throughout our sailing voyage.

Another lesson but this one highly desired by me, that of learning to scuba dive. I was an excellent swimmer and very comfortable with a mask and snorkel. My brother Stu agreed to teach me. I spent a few days listening to some of Stu's experiences and what he knew. Neither Stu nor Mike were certified divers but had dived for years in New Zealand. Moreover, they had their gear and a compressor for filling bottles on Franda II. Finally, Stu took an excited me into the pool at the Tradewinds Hotel. With enough weights on, we sat on the bottom of the pool with a couple of feet of water over our heads. I was finally breathing underwater.

I soon realised I was breathing way too fast. So, closing my eyes, I calmed myself down. I sat and slowly breathed through the regulator. Concentrating on the noises it made and the bubbles leaving the mouthpiece. Opening my eyes, I grinned at my brother. A bad move! My chubby cheeks with dimples lost contact with the rubber mask allowing water to enter. My smile quickly drowned as I felt panic rising. I squeezed my eyes shut and concentrated on breathing. As my heartbeat slowed, I remembered Stu telling me how to cope with the water in my mask. Now was the time to practice.

So Practise I did. Rolling my head to the side, ear down, I pressed the topside of my mask tightly to my face. Then gently blew out my nose. The added air forced the water out. Righting my head, I opened my eyes, smiled slightly, and showed Stu the OK signal with my thumb and forefinger touching.

Stu had set the task of breathing through the regulator without a diving mask before I could scuba dive in the ocean. An essential skill in case the mask is knocked off while underwater. So over the next few days, I practised in the pool, breathing through my snorkel without a mask. This was challenging, as the water went up my nose every time I breathed in! Finally, I learnt to close my eyes. Yes! Closing, my eyes stopped water going up my nose! Once I settled at breathing with my eyes closed, I could slowly open them for a few breaths and then would have to close them again. Sitting in the pool with Stu again a few days later, we removed our masks. With my eyes closed, I stifled the panic and managed to breathe. I was elated! Now Stu would take me for a real dive soon.

Hiscock's Wanderer IV or V was in the bay. Eric and Susan were famous within the sailing community and had written the "bible" for ocean sailors. They had 3 or 4 world circumnavigations to their name. Dad had read all of their books and approached the elderly couple in the dinghy and offered assistance.

The only thing they required was for Wanderer's bottom to be cleaned. Dad offered "the boys", so Mike and Stu, with scuba tanks, cleaned their hull. Kap and I got to scrub their waterline. The Hiscocks came over for drinks one evening, and dad had all his copies of their books autographed. Disappointedly our brothers were mentioned in Eric Hiscock's next book, but we were not.

Mum had relations in Fiji, so the sailing family got to visit with other western children and play ping pong. It was the family's first real introduction to Chilli. Fiji had a sizeable Indian population, and Indian food was popular. Unfortunately, mum's relatives served it to the Franda II crew. Although we enjoyed the flavour Kap and I ended up with burning lips. Among the laughter of the locals, two sweet drinks appeared to help cool our mouths down.

Franda II visited some nearby coral reefs and small islands. It was here that we found local children to go fishing with. Astonishingly to us, a 3 pronged spear was used. The small fish trapped in the reef's pools at low tide became an easy target. However, they were still tasty when cooked on the open fire for lunch. Kap and I gave the kids coloured pencils and paper to thank them for showing us how to catch fish Fijian style. These were much appreciated. The children living on the islands had limited material goods, and pencils and paper were in short supply. We had carried these from New Zealand as gifts.

At these reefs, Stu took me for my first real scuba dive. It was fantastic, and I was hooked. I didn't see anything different from snorkelling, but I had the time to sit and watch the tiny creatures go about their day. Unhappily Stu attracted a friend. The 1m long Black and White Banded sea snake swam between his legs for about 5 mins before we made him aware of his "friend". Stu was not terribly amused as they were poisonous, and he had trouble convincing the snake to leave him alone!

Returning to Suva's main wharf, Franda II tied up behind the cruise ship Arcadia. Being fellow sailors, we were invited onboard for a look around. This was the first time we girls had been on such a large ship, swimming pool and all.

The following morning Franda II was "cleared out" by immigration and customs officers. The officers then went to the Acadia to clear them out.

Other sailors we met and befriended here were going in the same direction with similar timings as Franda II, and we hoped to meet them again. It is normal to sail westward around the world. This is because the prevailing winds blow westward, making for easier passages. That is not to say that the wind doesn't blow from other directions. Still, generally speaking, around the middle latitudes, yachts sail westward with the wind.

After 40 days in Fiji, our next port of call would be the New Hebrides capital Port Vila on the island of Efate. After independence in 1980, New Hebrides became known as Vanuatu.