Bula! from Malakati, on the island of Nacula in the Yasawas. Check: the Blue Lagoon is just two bays down.

Greetings from the amazing crew of three. Tony the fearless skipper, the man who is leading a long list of crewmates into extraordinary adventures; the skipper with a ship-shape boat who has even figured out how to downright relax, leave the boat for a pretty long stretch of time and then recline and read all the way through (Rob’s already made public) terrifying Antartic book.

Gildo, who not only went through the tunnel of the cave but is now snorkelling up a storm, when he and Tony aren’t drinking gin and tonics (woops, that chapter has just come to an end: all the tonic water is gone). And when he isn’t cooking his yellow-fin tuna with a Sicilian tomato sauce or balsamic vinegar or doing another pasta dish to accompany Tony’s ultrafresh yellow-fin sashimi.
Kathleen, who mastered the tropical water amoeba after lying four days flat out on her back, come storm or high seas; whose snorkelling tasks involve making sure Gildo doesn’t panic or drown (some wear and tear) while swimming up a storm to see as many of the billions of multi-colored fish and corals as possible that lurk in these out-of-the-ordinary seas.

So, as a follow-up to our last message, the amazing crew of three, decked out in skirts for the men and a blue-flowered nylon dress for the woman, did not convert to the Methodist faith. Yes, we did diligently attend the church service, where the children pleased us no end (ever so reminiscent of Kath and her sisters and cousins giggling in church), and where the chickens and dogs out the windows were something to behold, as the breeze blew through the louvers and the curtains caressed Gildo’s face. However, when our costume stage-manager Manuel took over during the service as chief accountant, calling out the (not too numerous) names of the faithful and showing publicly how much each member was donating (element of humiliation we felt for those who this week could only put down a few coins), the church lost our support. Amen. Some of the singing voices were nice, but Tony was on the whole mightily disappointed in relation to what he had already seen.

Too many tales to tell, so just quickly, before we left Nabukeru we took some photos of some of our friends, after distributing pens and protactors at the school and parting with half of (one of) our yellow-fin for the chief Methodist accountant, with genuine regret, but we had dug ourselves into a hole by first saying we would go to lunch and then gracelessly bowing out

And here we are now, finishing our second day at Malakati, just a hop skip and a jump to a more sheltered spot on the island just south of Sawa-i-Lau, that is Nacula. Paradise folks, paradise. The weather has improved. Tony has it at the top of his scale alongside Albert Cove, for those in the know: but surely he’s credited Albert Cove with too many points. A nearly enclosed sheltered bay: the heaving gusts of wind no longer do us harm. We are the only yacht anchored here, with a view onto the longest white coral sand beach I have ever imagined, yellow hibiscus along with the coconut trees that grow along the shore. This afternoon glorious snorkelling, after a (for Gildo and me) second walk over to the big village of Nacula, which is a big village with both the old and the new side by side. Our main goal was to get to the village school, which funtions for both Malakati and Nacula, and we arrived accompanied by a local mother and son. What people. We were greeted with a little intro by a young man from Savusavu, very pleased to know we knew his town. And the most important message I have to relay is give donations to Unicef: they are at work in both the school of Nabukeru and Nacula; and today’s was replete with functioning computers shortly after you had left a few of the local bure behind. The educational messages we have seen have to do with good eating habits (so people can learn to keep their teeth, among other things), pacifying your enemies, and learning anger management. So whatever the problems with Unicef, they do seem to be doing an important job (alongside a bunch of other ngos).

The day ended with an extraordinary sunset over a little coconut-strewn island at our bow (note proper terminology); a paddler who stepped onto the boat, who ended up coming from Nabukeru, so I showed him pictures of our friends there, who turned out to be his sister (or aunt, relationships are a bit unclear) and brother; and Gildo and Tony going into the village to drink a little of the cava we had given them. Little by little we are piecing together a somewhat plausible understanding of the lives these mostly ever-smiling people live. Laughing children and rugby playing, on the beach, in the schoolyard, between houses, whatever the age. Watch out All Blacks: the Fijian threat is surely on the rise.
The two man, one woman crew are doing famously.

Another glorious snorkeling adventure next to come, while we have an order out with the locals for several lobsters. Keep your fingers crossed for us!