Fahiti ho!

Normally I don’t make more than a mental note when a rock music icon dies.    Normally.    Not today. Christine McVie died today and I am in pain.    I loved her voice.    Most of you have never heard the Fleetwood Mac album ‘Future Games’ where she shines.    This was before Buckingham-Nicks.    And I’ll bet no one reading has ever heard Christine’s cover of the Etta James song ‘I’d Rather Be Blind’ with Chicken Shack back in the ‘60’s.    Call it up on Spotify - you won’t be disappointed. Taking nothing away from Stevie Nicks, I always considered Christine to be the heart and soul of Fleetwood Mac. I put on “Go Your Own Way’ and ‘Songbird’ from Rumours...    Loud.  Yeah I know she’s backup to LIndsay on ‘Go’ but it’s such a great song. ‘You Make Loving Fun’ even louder.   You had a hell of a career,    Christine.    I’ll miss you.

It has come to my attention that there may be people reading this blog who are not fully versed in how I came to be sitting on a sailboat outside Savusavu, Fiji on December 1 while they are shoveling snow. Luck and longevity, my friends. I met Joe back in 1987 or thereabouts.    He was my first GTA in Instrumental Analysis at MTU.    We became lifelong friends, had many adventures together in the Keweenaw (Copper Falls mine - don’t tell the mine inspector).    Joe developed and sold a successful business and he and Michelle bought a sailboat to become cruising sailors.    They have been across the pond, in the Med to Turkey, all around the Caribbean (including Cuba).    Vicki and I spent a week with them in Grenada and I helped them take Peregrine through the Panama Canal several years ago.    They sailed across the Pacific to French Polynesia and wound up in Fiji.    They came back to the states to visit in 2019 and Covid hit.    Fiji closed its borders and they were stuck for two yea

Joe and Michelle left yesterday.    This morning came the first crisis.    The coffee was AWOL.    I looked everywhere, tearing into lockers (found some interesting foodstuffs) even looking in the depths of the fridge thinking that the bag of coffee got somehow dumped in there by accident.    There was nearly a mutiny on board, and since I”m the only one here it would have been epic. Left leg:    You walk the plank. Right leg:    No, YOU walk the plank. I had kind of wondered why that 1 kg plastic container of Tiffin Natural Greek Probiotic Yoghurt (Extra Thick and Creamy) was sitting on the counter instead of being in the fridge where it seemingly belonged.    I had been moving it around looking for the bag of coffee.    I finally opened it, and there was the coffee.    Apparently Joe or Michelle had repurposed the yoghurt container for the coffee.    Mutiny averted. Left leg:    Ok, I’ll let you live, this time. Right leg:    Back ‘atcha. I spent some time yesterday m

“Master Yoda, I need help.” “Hmmm.    Curse of the Jedi Master, have you?” “No, Master Yoda.    I have the curse of Steve Jobs.” “Hmmm.    Wise one, he was.” “Well his company isn’t so smart.” “Apple, that is?” “Yes, Master Yoda.    The company that has prided itself on user-friendly products that even a non-Jedi Master can use.” “So your problem what is?” “I wanted to take a video that was five minutes long and split it on my iPad into one-minute segments that I could upload to Instagram.    Apple makes this neat video editing package called iMovie that everyone raves about.    You can split video, you can rearrange segments, you can delete segments, you can add dancing can-can girls in the background for all I know but you can’t select a segment to save as a separate movie.” “Much trouble you have. Perhaps a pint of the cold brain juice help would be?” “I tried that, Master Yoda.    For five days I have been drinking myself to sleep at night, waking up with a hangover, ruining my liv

Sitting in the cockpit following the Michigan-OSU game on Google.    It’s not even eight in the morning here and they’re in the third quarter.    Kinda surreal. Some of the cruisers follow soccer (football to the rest of the world) live via some streaming service.    One guy even claimed that Prime was carrying sports now.    Ah - I’m not that interested. Had a nuclear physicist (retired) over for pizza last night.    He worked with Seaborg, even Teller at Livermore.    He’s 78 and still cruising Fiji, how about that?    He had a stroke years back and is very hard to understand.    I’m thinking of taking the iPad with me when I visit him so he can write what he wants to say.  End of the third quarter, MI leading.    Time for Dave to swim. Wow.    31 - 20 now.    Michigan came to play!    Dennis must be apoplectic… 45 - 23 now with three minutes to go.    Holy wah!    Sure glad I don’t care. OK, it’s over.    I can make breakfast now.    Congrats to the MI fans.    (I really don’t care.

 You asked for it, you got it… Peregrine.  My home for the next four months.  38 foot Wauquiez.  4.5 foot draft with a daggerboard that extends to 12 feet down.  Makes pointing into the wind a breeze.  (Yes, pun intended.). Currently moored. Having a nuclear physicist over for pizza tonight.  The local bakery makes pizza rounds with sauce and cheese - you add whatever additional toppings you want.  Heat them in a frying pan.

 So apparently on Saturdays they slaughter pigs.  On the shore.  By our boat.  Found out last night at Thanksgiving dinner.  And from the sounds of it, the guys doing the slaughtering aren’t particularly good at killing the pig.  In fact, I heard stories of Fijians chasing a wayward pig down the highway.  JFC, guys.  Just stun the poor animals already.  I know the sausage process has to get started somewhere, but sitting here at eight in the morning listening to death squeals is not my idea of how to start the day.  Think I’ll avoid the mooring on the weekends once J&M leave. Other than the pig stories, dinner last night was phenomenal.  These cruisers know how to cook.  And tell tales of being a reef magnet.   I’m goin’ swimming.

Three-boat get-together scheduled for this afternoon.  Ian from Fandango is cooking a chicken, Michele is making mashed potatoes.  I bought wine.  Sea. Lovers has a Shiraz on sale for about $6.50 US.  Bought four.  Drank one last night,  Oh well… Have to go back to Customs toady; Turns out they have lost all records of Joe’s boat.  (!!!). “Come in tomorrow and we’ll start the process over.”  Ok, Sparky. More shopping yesterday.  The IGA is fully stocked; they have an army of help scurrying around mopping, arranging stuff.  Found the meat counter with a small selection of fresh meats.  Also the 20-foot freezer with frozen chicken,  Gonna be eating a lot of chicken, I suspect. Speaking of eating, we ate at the Planter’s Club again.  This is what $4 US buys (Chicken stir-fry): Couple that with quart cold beer for $4 US and you’ve got yourself a meal! Strolled into the local pharmacy to get some medical tape for my foot.  (I opened a sore working the swim fin.). It’s like a Walgreens with

My little Apeman sports action camera is proving its worth in spades.    It took a few dives to iron out the white balance and some other settings but now they seem to be pretty true.    I tried a helmet mount but found that most of the time the camera was on the waterline.    So I went to a wrist mount.    Still having problems with the swells; I float up and down and the camera moves in and out making for a pretty disorienting video.    Unless it’s happy hour and you’ve had multiple G&Ts.   Still anchored off Namena Island in the marine preserve.    Staring out at a rookery of frigate birds and some other unidentified white species.    There are boobies here too, just not the kind Bill appreciates. Invited the folks on Fandango over for Mexican dinner last night.    Michelle made burritos with some kind of fake meat that were really delicious.    Many glasses of Talisker.   AND - I was telling bits of my story with Captain Bill in Panama and how I ended up catching a ride through

Those immortal lines.    Was it Roy Schneider or Richard Dreyfuss?    Can’t remember.    All I know is that I was floating about 20 years behind Peregrine when the biggest shark in the world swam below me on the bottom.    It looked up at me and was licking it’s lips.    Time stood still.    We stared at each other for what seemed like eternity then I flipped him the bird.    Apparently FOAD translates into shark, too.    He clearly saw that I was the alpha male in the area and wanted no part of a confrontation.    Good move, Dieter. (I told Janis I would name my first shark after her husband.).    American exceptionalism triumphs again! Ok, it was a little reef shark.    There were actually two, but I only got one on video.    I still have both legs, last time I looked. Upper LHC Nine o’clock

 Little bitty fishes grazing on coral.

The Namena Barrier Reef.    It’s a marine sanctuary about 20 miles south of Savusavu.    First swim yesterday resulted in botched camera settings for the Apeman.    The videos were crisp, but all had this bluish tinge that really washed out the colors.    It was overcast, and there is a ‘cloudy’ setting in the camera that I will try today.    We’re going in dinghies with a neighboring boat around the island, so I hope the new settings work. It’s like swimming in an aquarium.    The variety of species is mind-boggling for someone used to pike and walleye.    Imagine swimming through a school of several hundred iridescent fish the size of teaspoons.    They aren’t intimidated by humans at all, it seems. Saw two rays on the floor about 35 feet down.    They weren’t real big - dinner plate size.    Though I had them on camera but my aim was off slightly.    Oh well, there will be more, I’m sure.

So I woke up to the news that Buffalo, NY had gotten over six feet of snow.    Then I looked to our neighbor boat, Fandango, rocking gently in the tropical breeze. I could see the sun reflecting off the waves through the sun shield I had clothespinned to the Bimini because the heat was so intense.    I was even wearing my Hemingway cap with the wide brim to block the glare.    And I felt an overriding sense of empathy for those folks having to deal with snow and cold.    And then the guilt started.    The immense guilt.    Epic in scope - almost Shakespearean tragedy scale.    An oppressive, dark cloud of guilt formed over my head and wouldn’t go away. So in sympathy and brotherhood with my friends up north in da UP, I offer the following services: You can ship your snow to Fiji, c/o s/v Peregrine, Savusavu.    DHL delivers and I’m sure we can melt it faster than you can send it. You can view my video (yet to be filmed) of me singing ‘Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow’ wearing my s

So…first snorkel.    Joe brings out a full face mask rig that looks pretty cool.    It had a protective plastic on the faceplate; never been used.    I took it in the water and it fit great, didn’t leak.    Wow, pretty cool.    Came back up on deck and noticed the standard Go-Pro attachment built into the mask above the faceplate.    Now I’m really excited.    I can attach my underwater camera to the mask and don’t have to worry about pointing it. Got the attachment screw with the molded-on turning grip (think of a plastic star glued to a machine screw) and attached the underwater camera case.    Cool! In the water, fins on, heading for the reef.    The mask leaks.    Like Niagara.    WTF.    It didn’t leak before…what’s going on?    Took it off, checked the seal, did all those masky things I see Bill and the boys do on Isle Royale -    nothing.    Decided I needed to go back to the boat to figure out the issue. Get back to the boat, take the mask off bobbing off the stern.    The firs

 We moved about five miles down the coast to just off a nice resort connected somehow to the Cousteau family.  It’s kind of a preserve but not officially.  I missed daybreak by a half-hour so I was eager to jump in and swim.  Then I looked down.  WTF?  Did we drift onto the reef?  Did we ground?  It looks like were in about two feet of water. You decide. Actually, we’re in 11 feet of water and that’s a sand bottom.  Splash time.! Oh, and in case any of you were thinking I would be without projects in /Fiji, I give you my latest purchase.  Naming rights are open in comments.

 Who was that?  Bob Seger?   The pink grocery has good stuff. Good selection of wines here at Sea Lovers.  They have a Shiraz for about $6 US/bottle that is really quite good.  Plus a lot of other wines.  Again, prices are not bad. Ya gotta love the Waitui marina.  Zoom in and you’ll see they also sell ‘Tender Meats.’  Gives a whole new meaning to the term ‘rail meat.’ The quintessential south sea island pic. Another street view.

 I am shocked by how well the stores are stocked here in Savusavu.  Well, the selection is limited if you want a certain brand.  They have all the Colgate toothpaste in the Southern Hemisphere but no Crest, for example.  And I don’t think the prices are that out of line.  The following cornucopia of fruity delights set us back maybe $10 US.  The fresh pineapple was $3 Fijian, which translates to $1.50 US.  Seems like a bargain to me. That ugly thing in the lower left corner is Sauersop,  I had to buy it to try.  It’s like a cross between pear and mango with a tang.  Really good raw.  Michelle blended it for a drink. Video of the fruit market on my Instagram:  Dave.Chesney.353

 Memo for the record. To:  Charlie the Tuna From:  Dave Re:  My donation Charlie, I hope you get some use out of those shorts that flew off the lifelines when we were in Savusavu shopping.  I enjoyed them very much for the brief (no pun intended) time I had them.  You will find them not stretched out, maybe a little smelly in the back.  The jet black color should complement your scales quite nicely. Regrettably, I have learned my lesson and will not be making further donations.  Don’t take it personally. With regards, Commando Dave

 I hope.

It’s dawn.    I’m up.    I’m shirtless. It’s beautiful.    Not because I’m shirtless. First impressions:    Oh, yeah.    I’m into this big time.    Had lunch at the Planter’s Club.    Chicken stir-fry.    Absolutely delicious.    $4 US.    Had a freshly-baked chicken pot pie for supper on the boat.    Delicious.    Everything here is freshly made.    And they seem to have everything, too.    It’s not under one roof like a Walmart, but you can walk down the street and duck into little shops (most of which are immaculate) and find what you need.    Beer here is cheap and good.    Drinking Fiji Bitter last night.    A pint is @2.5 US.    Rough calculation:    I can eat and drink well on $10 US/day.    The one-pot meals may be shelved while we’re moored. Now the sidewalks are a little third world.    Maybe second world.    Random concrete slabs interspersed with ramps and weird steps.    Some of the storefronts look a little rough, but the contents make up for it.    Let’s put it this way:

 So the plane from Nadi to Savusavu was a 19-seater build in oh, 1902.  There were three total victims, I mean passengers.  The co-pilot gave us a thirty-second safety chat then went forward.  As we hit the taxiway, the pilot turned around and gave me a ‘thumbs-up’ signal.  I didn’t know if this meant ‘We’re going to live’ or ‘We actually have fuel’ or ‘Are you ready?’  I made the executive decision that it was the last and gave him a thumbs-up back.  He smiled and decided to once again fly the plane. Baggage storage on Fiji Link.  That’s my duty-free scotch in the purple bag. My view of the escape hatch.  Note the red plastic protecting the door handle…right at my knee…didn’t anyone warn these people about me? Da plane, boss, da plane.  If you squint real hard in the upper right you can read ‘Orville Wright wuz here’ Ok, enough of the plane.  How’s the view? The approach to Savusavu was socked in tight.  I didn’t think we would land.  But we did, I’m here.  Had lunch, beer, swim and b