Nabowalu Bay is quite large but the top half of it is full of coral bommies and other reefy things. We looked for hazards as best we could and snuggled up to one side about halfway up the bay, dropping the hook in about 50 feet of water. The first thing you notice about this bay is the prominent cell tower at the top of the hill. It's amazing to me that in this tiny place we're gonna have internet and telephone service. We're expecting to be here for many days, hunkered down for this big blow. Having internet will help pass the time. I was hoping there would be less wind over here but no joy. It seems like it funnels down through the canyon right onto us. At least there's not a lot of fetch but we are being blown from side to side, like sailing in place. There's a bommie over there and I secretly worry that we might be too close should the wind vear more to the northeast. It's getting later in the afternoon so we decide to go into the village in the morning at low tide. At 9am we grab our sulus and our kava bundle and jump in the dinghy to go and see the village. As we approach shore we see a man standing there, he must have been waiting for us to come in. We introduced ourselves to Isaacs and he took us to the chief's sitting room. Leaving our shoes outside we came in and sat down on the woven mats. We did our sevu sevu, a very simple and quick ceremony. The chief also had a women with him, she had a box of papers and was talking on a cell phone. We later learned that she was from the bank in Suva and was helping the villagers open up bank accounts. After a few more minutes the chief suggested that Isaacs show us the village so we said 'Vinaka' and left. We walked through the tiny village saying 'Bula' to whoever we saw. Isaacs showed us the two story church, the church part being on the second floor and the open area below surrounded by pillars that holds the church up. It was built that way for cyclones. They had in the past experienced massive flooding here, so now they may lose all of their homes but the church on the second floor would survive almost anything. We walked across two very skinny walking bridges that pass over a little creek. At high tide the water is a lot higher but when we first walked across it was just a little creek maybe 15 feet below. I had to concentrate walking across the bridge, it was quite long but only two planks wide with no handholds of any kind. On the other side of the bridge sat a women in a pretty Fijian dress. Her name is Melina and she 'married' into this village.