Greetings from a remote outpost of Fiji – the Lau Group of islands where traditional Fiji still exists isolated from the march of modernization. The Lau consists of 57 isles scattered across the southeast corner of the Fijian archipelago. Here there are no hotels, bars, restaurants, dive shops, banks or tourist shops. There is a small grocery store, but the supply boat is broken down and hasn’t been here for a couple of months, so the shelves are bare. The attractions here are spectacular unspoiled scenery, a rich undersea environment ripe for exploration, and villages that still honor the old Fijian ways. To cruise here requires a special permit, which we have. Not long ago it was very difficult to obtain the permit, but the locals lobbied the Fijian government to ease the restrictions and just in the past few months the permits have become more easy to come by.

We are anchored in a secluded cove in the stunning Bay of Islands, also known as Qilaqila, near northern Lau’s largest island, Vanua Balavu. Calm waters as turquoise as any country club swimming pool wind in and about a labyrinth of islands and islets. All feature steep plunging limestone walls rising abruptly from the sea, heavily cloaked with virgin hardwood forest. Where the cliff meets sea, the limestone is uniformly worn away by eons of wave action steadily eroding its base, so that each islet is like a mushroom cap floating on its stem a few feet above sea level. Even when the sea is quiet, the swells lap under the overhanging ledges and break UP against the stone ceiling, to create a ceaseless clamor of splashing and sloshing.

Native birds that we see regularly include small blue herons with yellow feet, barking pigeons whose call sounds like a distant large barking dog, flickering swallows, and beautiful paradise terns that soar along the dark green cliffs, pristinely white in the sunlight with dramatic long tails that give them a profile like a dragonfly. At sea boobies with blue beaks and blue feet fly low over the water cruising in search of a fish dinner.

Just a short kayak paddle away from our favored anchor spot is a colony of beka (large fruit bats, also called flying foxes). These giant bats are the size of a duck. They roost restlessly in the daytime, hanging upside down in the tall trees by their feet, screeching and squabbling and occasionally flying off to relocate on a new branch. At twilight they begin to take to the air en masse, circling along the cliffs to gain altitude and then striking off for a night of foraging.

We’ve been here in the Lau ten days or so, maybe the longest stretch of time we’ve spent in any cruising destination to date! Mike and I flew into Nadi nonstop from Los Angeles, arriving in the dark of predawn. From Nadi we had two connecting flight legs on smaller aircraft, first to Suva and then Taveuni, to meet up with AVATAR who was waiting for us there. The Suva flight was delayed for mechanical reasons and it looked like we were going to miss our connection. The text messages were flying between Rod on the boat and me at the airport as we started to reorganize. The airline had already pulled our suitcases off the flight when suddenly the problem was fixed and the plane was ready to depart. Turns out the pilot and copilot for the Suva-Taveuni flight were passengers on the first leg, sitting right behind us on our crowded plane, so there was no possibility of missing the connection after all! When all was said and done, we arrived in Taveuni on schedule. Rod as always was waiting at the airport to meet us, taxi in hand. And this trip we have a new crew member in training, Rod’s Filipino girlfriend Mayflor.

No sooner had we boarded the boat and unloaded the suitcases, we were underway towards the evening’s anchorage and an early start for the planned 50 mile crossing to the Lau next morning. We met an oncoming humpback whale in the first half hour, an auspicious start to the trip!

Our days here in Bay of Islands have been a steady diet of kayaking, swimming, snorkeling, scuba diving and fishing. I’ve dusted off my sadly neglected cameras and started taking pictures again. I am starting to pray for rain so I can have a peaceful day or two at the computer but so far the rain has only fallen at night and the sun comes out each and every day, lighting up the water and beckoning us on to a new adventure. Details of this delightfully monotonous lifestyle to follow…