With eight boats now at Bavatu Harbor it's time to organize a feast! Monkey Fist went boat to boat collecting $15 (Fijian dollars=$10 US) each plus some kava (a bunch of long skinny dry brown roots wrapped in newspaper and bundled up with string) and then went up the steps to the village to organize the event. Two small pigs were slaughtered. One went on a spit and the other's meat went into some kind of curried pork dish. The fijian women have some special dishes that they prepared along with the standard fijian foods like taro and the yummy tuna, coconut and onion wrapped in taro leaves dish that I love. Each boat brought something to share with the group (35-40 people in all including the locals). The fijian women were setting up the table which we added our goodies to. Don and I sat down on the woven mats in the circle that was now rapidly growing. The previously prepared kava was already being served one coconut bowl at a time. Kava is a root plant in the pepper family. It is formally presented to the chief (actually to the chief's representative to give to the chief on your behalf) in traditional villages as 'sevusevu', as a gift and to request permission to anchor in their waters, fish and even walk around on their land. Once the chief accepts the kava (aka yaqona) you are essentially part of the village and under their care. The coconut plantation in Bavatu Harbor is privately owned so our kava was not used for sevusevu, it was used for drinking at the feast. Fijians generally do not drink alcohal. Out of respect for them, we do not drink alcohal around them or offer it to them. They stick to kava and boy do they love it! They take the bundled kava you brought, mash the roots into a powder then put the powder into a small soft bag. One man sits behind the kava bowl (large wooden handcarved, often quite old) adds water to the bowl and drops the kava bag into in, saturating the kava bag and then wringing the kava-water back into the bowl over and over again. After a few minutes when the kava man thinks the mix is right they begin to serve it around the circle, one coconut bowlful at a time. The kava is offered to you, either a full cup called 'high-tide' (with a smile) or perhaps half a cup called 'low-tide'. When it is offered to you, you clap once then take the bowl in two hands and drink it up all at once, hand the bowl back to the server and then clap three times signifying you are done and thank you very much. It doesn't taste very good, kind of like dirty water but after a few cups you feel a tingly sensation on your lips and maybe on your tongue. It's fun though, sitting and drinking kava with your mates and watching others join in. A good time was had by all. Once the group got to twenty or more people sitting around the kava bowl, another server jumped in and two coconut serving bowls were going at once. Several of the younger fijian men started playing instruments and singing fijian songs. Sue from 'Spruce' had a flute and joined in. Paul on 'Monkey Fist' played guitar. After maybe an hour of kava, Benny (our fijian 'tour guide') sat down in front of us and told us that the feast was ready and to please help ourselves. The cruisers gathered around the food table heaping a bit of everything onto our plates. The pig that was cooked on the spit was laid out there with half of him cut and plated. I was looking forward to eating pork again. It tasted pretty good but it was very fatty. Some of the side dishes were ok. I enjoyed the tuna/taro leaf dish the most and also liked the canned corn that 'Corvidae' brought - gross I know but I haven't eaten corn in awhile. It's fijian custom for guests to eat first so as we were chowing down the locals simply sat and waited or kept playing their instruments and singing. When the cruisers were done eating, the two fijian women cleaned up the serving table and put a piece of cloth over the food that was left. We never saw the village folk eat. The kava bowl started up again and the music continued. The sun had gone down a while ago. It wasn't very late but when one of the boat's crew stood up and thanked our hosts and started to leave it was time for many of us to join them. I went over to retrieve my cookie tin...all 40 of the homemade chocolate chip cookies were gone and the tin had been washed and ready to give back. We put our shoes back on, thanked Bui and his family and the rest of the locals for a lovely feast and took off down the path in the dark. Thankfully, headlamps and flashlights appeared making the walk back down the trail to the top of the steps a fun adventure. Down the 271 steps we all went, back to the dinghy dock, back to our yachts out in the harbor.