April 6th, 2005

7-Legged Spiders

     I arrived in Fiji with no plan or idea of what to do. I had a hostel booked, and a Lonely Planet guidebook in my pack, with my only desire being simply to find myself a hammock and lie in it with my book while drinking fruity cocktails with a little umbrella garnish and watching the waves on the beach. With this in mind, I stepped off the plane into the humid night air only to realize that I would not be as dry as I had been on the plane for at least three weeks. Whether you want to call it moist, humid, clammy, damp, muggy, or tropical, Fiji is all of these. But it is also beautiful, friendly, and so laid back that on occasion "Fiji-time" can be downright irritating.
     In my quest to find the perfect spot in every country I began my island-hopping adventure on the island of Waya. Adi's (pronounced Andi's) Place. This was not paradise. Wasps were busy building mud nests inside the dorms next to my bed. Roosters woke us up at about 4 AM, well before sunrise. We were told not to drink the water from the taps, but at meals we were served "bottled" water (bottles which had been filled from the same taps we were told not to drink from). And over time, the tide had created a smelly lagoon between the resort and the sea. The tide didn't seem to replenish it with fresh sea-water any more, so it just sat there and festered, waiting to evaporate. And these were mere surface comforts. But I am happy to say my experience in Fiji only got better.
     My next stop in the Yasawa Island chain was Korovou Eco Tours Resort on the island of Naviti. Pobably my favorite out of the 6 resorts I visited. More people to talk to, but enough space so as not to be crowded. Plenty of Hammocks, a beach front volleyball court, and nightly entertainment.
      On my second night at Korovou, Ace the barman - whom I had met when he carried my bag to my room - invited me and another American to a Kava circle with some of the older gentlemen of the resort. As we had shut down the bar and were the not yet ready to turn in, we egerly agreed. Kava is the traditional ceremonial drink of Fiji. It is made from a root which is ground up and mixed with water. That is at least the modern process. The one that tourists are exposed to. I'm told that traditionally it was the job of the village's teenage boys to chew on bits of the kava root and spit into the bowl. Eventually they would have enough for the circle of men to drink that night.
      Having joined the circle late, I was not totally sure which method of preperation had been used on this batch. I decided not to think about it and when the coconut was passed to me, I clapped once, said "Bula," (softly, as the womenfolk were sleeping), gulped it down, handed it back and clapped three more times. Kava, by the way, is non-alcoholic (although it may or may not be classified as a narcotic), tastes like a mixture of dirt and wood, looks like dirty dishwater, and has the sensation of drinking novacaine. Your mouth understandably goes numb for a few minutes. When everyone in the circle has had a bowlful, it is time to sit back and enjoy the sensation for a few minutes until the next round. And once the big bowl is empty, they may or may not mix up another batch. Usually, they may. This can go on for hours depending on how much kava is on hand, and from what I've seen, the men will drink their kava until there is no more kava to be made. The effects of kava vary from person to person. It is said to relax those who consume it, and to make you sleep very soundly. From my own experience, I would say that this is certainly the case. But that may have more to do with the fact that it was past 4:30 when I finally turned in.
      The following day, around March 17th or so (16th in California), I walked into my 26-bed dorm room to find a cluster of Western girls all in a tizzy about something, and two calm Fijian women working at trying to usher something outside with a broom and someone's flip-flops. "A spider," someone replied when I ask what all the kerfuffel was about. "7 legs. Very bad luck." said one of the Fijian women. "Someone might be hurt, or sick, or dying." With 25 other beds in the room, I didn't think anything of it. Besides, it was across the room from my own bed.
      During my three night stay at Korovou, I kept myself busy lying on the beach, playing beach volleyball until sunset with the locals, I learned to weave a basket out of a Palm frond, and I went spear fishing with two Fijians and a Norweigian. I didn't get a chance to try it myself, but they let me hold the string of dead fish as they caught them. About a half-hour into it I realized I was snorkelling around the South Pacific trailing Shark Chum. But as you can probably gather by the fact that you're reading this now, no sharks came to eat me. Or if you'd rather, you can believe that a few sharks did in fact show up, and they threatened me, and I kicked their ASSES!
      In comparison to all the excitement that Korovou had to offer, David's Place farther up the Yasawas on the island of Tavewa had only a few things worth mentioning after three days. Firstly, Fiji won the Rugby 7's World Cup while I was there. About 20 or 30 people gathered around a small fuzzy tv placed outside to watch the 20 minute final. Fiji's win prompted a National Holiday on the Thursday before Easter Friday (which was also a holiday). Saturday was business as usual, but Monday was also a holiday, as it followed Easter Sunday. These are deeply religious people, these Fijians.
      The second item worth mentioning at David's Place is the cave trip. A 45 minute exposed boat ride through rain and wind to an island across the bay. A small tunnel led to a massive open cave filled with water too deep for me to dive to the bottom. A small opening, only as tall as my head above the water led off to the side. Inside was a vast black cave, bigger than the one we had just come from. I think. I couldn't actually see my hands in front of my face, let alone the outer perimiter of the cave. We followed our guide across the black water and back again, stopping on the way out to climb up a small wall and jump out into the blackness. Our guide assured us that we would land safely in the water, which we did. After a 2 meter drop through black nothing.
      Third and fourth on the 'worth mentioning' list from David's Place were the really cool sunset photos I took, and the fact that I climbed a palm tree, picked a coconut, and then busted into it ala Tom Hanks in Castaway.
      The island of Nanuya Lailai and the Sunrise resort is where I finally was able to stop relaxing and start having fun in Fiji. There is only so much Hammock Time one can endure before one begins to go stir-crazy. It was at the Sunrise resort that I met three Aussies and a Canadian who seemed to have enough energy and positive attitudes to spread around to anyone who hung out with them. Which I did.
      Burnsy, Jimmy, and Dave were on a one week stop-over on their way to play for a Canadian Rugby club in Edmonton for the next year, and from the looks of things they were on their way to having a very fun time over the next twelve months. "Hollywood" Tyler was a self-declared actor/skateboarder on his way to work in Perth, on the same week long layover on his way to his year-long commitment in Australia. I was just a stray bouncing around on my own who happened to be sitting in the right place at the right time after dinner.
      It was at Sunrise Resort that another seven-legged spider showed up in my dorm room. This time there were only 10 beds, and the first time I saw it, it was on the window shutter between my bed and the next. Over the next few days there were reports of it being spotted at various points around the room. Again, I thought nothing of it and went about the business of planning my days around Hammock Time (anytime we weren't eating). With this being the most stressful activity of the day, I still wasn't worried about being targetted by the spider. Although I did get a good look at him, and he must have had seven of the longest legs I've ever seen on such a large spider. I'm sorry I was so non-chalant about it that I didn't take a photo. His body seemed to be relatively small compared with his reach. That made it all the more creepy. Little hairy body with long hairy legs. When I found myself thinking about it, it was a bit unsettling. So I didn't think about it.
      I took the oportunity to go on a SCUBA dive with the local dive center. It was raining in the morning as we went out to the dive site, so the visibility wasn't the best. And there was more coral than fish. But the coral was fantastic. Colors near the edge of the visual spectrum. Soft corals and hard ones. Little fish that live in the the coral, and a few bigger fish that eat those little fish when they get a chance. Bright blue starfish. Tiny families of Clown Fish.
      We dropped off the boat and sank right down to 25 meters. Deeper than I had ever been, but I followed the guide, and did exactly what he did, and what I was told. We started at the deepest point and slowly ascended to the surface over the next 40 minutes. At the start, I watched my bubbles float up and couldn't quite make out where they hit the surface. We were that deep. At one point, I felt something on my calf (we were wearing short-leg wetsuits) and looked back to see a cleaner fish - the kind that attach themselves to sharks - working away on my leg. It would have been harmless, but it tickled too much for me to let it alone, so I shooed it away a few times and it got discouraged and went to pick on someone else. All in all, it was a nice dive. Not enough fish, and not spectacular visibility, but a nice dive none the less. I have been spoiled by the Great Barrier Reef.
      I spent the next three days with the boys, working our way back down south through the Yasawas and back to Nadi on the mainland. During this time Burnsy dominated the Volleyball courts even with one broken hand, Jimmy was left scarred for life when he was bitten just above the ankle during a fearsome fish feeding session, Dave remained the strong quiet type but still managed to make us laugh with everything he said, and Hollywood nearly married a local. We also got invited to Church on Easter Sunday where we saw two Fijian babies baptized by their proud parents.
      There were no real phones on the islands. Only CB radios to call from one resort to another. And certainly no internet. So after over two weeks of no contact with anyone who knew where I was, I decided it was time to check my email and write home now that we were back in the city. That's when I learned why the seven-legged spiders kept showing up in my room. Around the time that the first one was being shooed out of the 26-bed dorm in Kuata, my Grandmother was saying her last words. After being married to my Grandfather for 65 years, living without him proved to be too much, and she passed away a few months after him. The obits and medical reports willl surely give some official cause. But those who knew her, those who knew them, know that the overwhelming factor was a broken heart. I read the 70+ email messages that I had recieved while being out of touch, and put the peices together. The second seven-legged spider showed up the day she was burried. I didn't think anything of the spider at the time, but I'll never doubt the significance if I see one again.
      Even though I was able to email home, the international phone rates were still far too expensive. $22 for 6 minutes! I could have easily moved on back to New Zealand at that point. I had had enough hammock time, and the few clothes that I wore never seemed to completely dry out due to the humidity and salt water in the air. But my flight didn't leave for another week. I had saved about $120 by staying 3 weeks instead of two, not taking into account how much it would cost to stay an extra week in Fiji.
      But I gathered myself together and made my way up to the island of Nananu-i-ra, just off the northern coast of the mainland. After three days of wandering the beaches and reading my book, and writing in my journal, I learned firsthand that once in a while life teaches us a lesson and it's our choice whether we pay attention or not. My friend Richard and I had been sitting in the flat sea talking to a few girls before they left. Rich and I left for a few minutes to inquire about snorkelling gear, and when we returned I had a great idea. I ran down the sand full steam. Straight at the girls lying in the water. I planted my foot just inches from one of them and launched into the air as they shreiked. Everything was going according to plan so far as I sailed over the two girls and stretched out to finish with a flat dive that would have me skim across the top of the water like a stone. I must have over compensated the height I needed to clear the girls, because when I hit the water, I didn't just splash harmlessly on the surface like the skipping stone I had imagined myself to be. I went down. Head first. Not at a right angle straight down into the sand, but not shallow enough either. When the right side of my forehead plowed into the sand, I felt and heard my entire neck and spine crack as my jaw was slammed shut when it hit my chest. I slowly sat up in the water and immediately realized that I was lucky to be able to still wiggle my toes, let alone use my legs. Just to be sure I wiggled my toes again on both feet. Lessoned learned. Thanks Life.
      My back and neck were stiff for the next few days, but I was still walking around and I'm fine now. Two days later, I decided I was well enough to walk around the island to Turtle Bay. When we got there, we couldn't tell why it was called Turtle Bay, as there were no turtles in the sea to be seen. We did some snorkelling, and then went back to the beach and dried off. I decided to take one of those photos where you write the location in the sand in front of you. And as I finished writing FIJI 05, I noticed something crawling across my lettering. A baby turtle! Then another one! An before I knew it, hundreds of baby turtles were streaming out of the bush at the edge of the beach, and scurrying across the sand into the sea. We grabbed our cameras and took photos and videos of the best thing I saw in Fiji. What are the chances that we just happened to be at that beach, in the right spot, when a nest full of turtles hatched and made the mad dash to the sea? I'll show you the videos when I get home. The photos will be up on the site eventually.
      And that was Fiji. For all the time I spent doing nothing but lying in a hammock, an awful lot happened that was worth mentioning.

"Travel is ninety per cent anticipation and ten per cent recollection."
--Edward Streeter

Props to my Peeps, and Peace on the Mothership
Chris