First, a very brief Hindi lesson: the phrase "Full Masti" means "Full Fun" (masti
being the Hindi word for "fun"), which the visit with our family in Fiji certainly was! Full Masti! appears on packages of Nam Keen, our favorite Fijian crackers. The full slogan is: "Thoda salty, thoda spicy, Full Masti!" Thoda
means "a little," And so: "A little salty, a little spicy, Full Fun!" Now you know.
We'd been excited for months, that some members of our family - my sister, Tara; brother-in-law, Bob; 17-year-old nephew, Peyton; daughter, Kelly; and her boyfriend, Daniel (whom I'll collectively call "The Fam") - would be coming to visit us on SCOOTS in August.
Except for Kelly, The Fam hadn't spent much time on a sailboat. Eric and I wanted to make sure their time with us was comfortable and memorable. We were looking forward to sharing the beautiful islands of Fiji with them; but more than that, we were excited to share our floating home with them, to show them how we live, and to introduce them to some of our cruising friends who are part of the worldwide floating community to which we belong.
Before The Fam came, we asked some of our friends who'd hosted liveaboard guests on their boats, what sorts of things they'd told - or wished they'd told - their guests in advance. We distilled these conversations into a "cheat sheet" about living on SCOOTS, and sent it to The Fam, to give them an idea what it would be like to live with us. This cheat sheet included such information as how SCOOTS makes her water and electricity (and a request to use them wisely), nautical names for parts of the boat, life on board, medical and safety info, a reminder to always have "one hand for the boat," and a suggested list of things to bring - and not bring - with them.
We asked The Fam about their food preferences: were there things they particularly liked or disliked? What would they like to drink during the day? From their responses, we put together a menu, and sent it to everyone for comments, before making our made provisioning runs.
To make everyone's life easier, and to help preserve the cold of our galley fridge, we purchased a 12v fridge/freezer, set it up in the cabin, and stocked it with drinks. This worked out great! No need for The Fam to dive into the depths of the galley fridge to get a soda, beer, or juice. With Peyton's teenage appetite in mind, we made up a big box of assorted snacks and left it within easy reach in the cabin.
Eric and I had spent some time thinking of the best places to take The Fam, based on the weather during their visit (sunny, but windy), and what they wanted to see and do. We'd decided to keep SCOOTS within the wind shadow on the west side of the large island of Viti Levu, and to anchor in places that had reefs around them, which would knock down any roll-inducing swell. The southern Mamanuca Islands, with their white sandy beaches, mix of resorts and uninhabited islands, and great snorkeling reefs, provided the perfect cruising ground. Also, since we'd spent an entire season exploring this part of Fiji two years ago, we knew our way around.
Two weeks before the first of The Fam were due to arrive, we sailed SCOOTS from the northeastern part of Fiji, where we'd been for the previous month, to the western part, where we'd meet up with The Fam. This trip of a couple hundred miles took about a week. Our first stop on the west side was Saweni Bay, just south of Lautoka, where our taxi driver friend, Raj, picked us up on the beach and drove us into Lautoka to do some provisioning.
Our next stop, a few days later, was Denarau Marina, where we'd reserved a slip for a few days prior to The Fam's arrival. These were the wettest, sloppiest, choppiest ten miles we'd experienced in quite awhile: the rain poured and the wind blew 25 knots right on SCOOTS' nose, whipping the water into pointy, frothy chop that she pounded into. We got soaked, getting our dock lines and fenders ready. Ugh. As we neared Denarau Marina, the rain let up and the wind mellowed. The chop laid down, the clouds parted, and sunlight shone through. I was expecting angels to sing. Apparently, it hadn't rained in Denarau at all! Nor would it rain in this part of Fiji for the next month. Timing.
Once we arrived at Denarau, the full-on preparations began.
We arranged to have our friend, Moses, wash and wax SCOOTS, to get her deck and hull all shiny and spiffy. While Moses worked on the outside, we worked on the inside. We cleaned SCOOTS from top to bottom. We found temporary homes (in the foc'sle, under the floorboards, in the engine room, in our cabin...) for all the items that we usually store in the aft cabin, and then we set up the newly-emptied aft cabin as a sleeping cabin. I polished the stainless fittings on deck. Eric polished our silverware. We changed the oil in the generator and Yanmar the Magnificent, emptied and cleaned the bilges and shower sump. We filled SCOOTS' water tanks and sent her empty propane tank to be filled.
We decided to do some proactive maintenance on our toilet, in the hope that this would fend off any malfunctions during The Fam's visit. Because SCOOTS has only one head (bathroom) and toilet (also called a head, just to be confusing), when the toilet breaks or clogs, we have to fix it right away, something we really don't like to do, especially with guests present. So, we took the toilet off, turned it upside down in the cockpit, lubed and checked the action of the mechanical parts; removed, cleaned, and reattached the outlet hose; and put it all back. Good to go.
To dispel the mystery surrounding the procedure for flushing our marine toilet (no, it's not just like a land toilet, and it's more finicky) Eric printed out instructions - complete with a picture of the toilet with the important parts labeled - and taped it to the wall in the head.
The next day, we walked to the Fresh Choice store in Denarau, where we bought another shopping cart's worth of groceries, and caught a taxi back to the marina. Our taxi driver, Joe, gave us his card and told us that we could call him if we had people who needed a ride from the airport. That was handy. We told him we would.
The day after that, we caught the Dollar Bus into Nadi to do the last bit of provisioning, including a trip to the public market to buy some fresh produce. Eric got a haircut from Kam, his favorite barber in Fiji. We caught a taxi outside the grocery store, and made two more stops at South Pacific Butcher for meat, and Flavio's Italian Deli (yes, there's a real Italian deli in Fiji!) to pick up some ricotta and parmesan for the lasagna I was planning to make; we also left with a bottle of limoncello and a nice hunk of Fontina that we couldn't say no to. Back on SCOOTS, we somehow managed to find places to put this new infusion of food we'd bought, the last of the provisions.
Though we worked hard while we were in Denarau - it was happy work, preparing for our loved ones' arrival - we also enjoyed some leisure time. Some mornings, before we dove into our tasks for the day, we took a walk around the development. We talked; I looked for birds. At the end of each day, we took showers, then walked into Denarau to choose a restaurant for dinner. All the restaurants are good, so it's just a matter of what kind of food you want to eat. It was nice to be back in Denarau again; it had a comfy familiarity for us, after spending a month there last year, waiting for a weather window to sail to New Zealand.
Now we are Five
Joe picked up Tara, Bob, and Peyton at the Nadi Airport and brought them to the marina. After we'd shared hugs all around, they stowed their luggage on SCOOTS, and we showed them around Denarau - including buying coconut rolls and other yummy baked goods for breakfast at the Hot Bread Kitchen. Bob and Peyton mentioned that they wanted haircuts. "No problem!" Eric said. "My favorite barber is in Nadi!"
So we all piled onto the Dollar Bus and rode to Nadi, glad for the opportunity to show Tara, Bob, and Peyton around a real Fijian town, since Denarau, the tourist hub of the west side of Fiji, is anything but. We walked through the public market, along some of the busy streets, and allowed ourselves to be coaxed into a couple of handicraft shops. In one of these shops, we participated in a short kava ceremony, in which Bob was given the title by which he was known for the rest of his time in Fiji (and maybe even beyond): Vanilla Chief. Boy, did we have fun with that!
As soon as we got back from Nadi, we untied SCOOTS' docklines and after a quick stop at the fuel barge to fill our diesel tanks, motorsailed from the big island of Viti Levu (the "mainland") to the north side of Castaway Island. Only eighteen miles from Denarau, it seemed a world apart. Tara and Peyton immediately jumped in for a swim, enjoying their first of many dips in Fiji's warm, turquoise water.