Fiji’s Dravuni Island and New Caledonia’s Maré Island were the last two stops of the cruise – and as luck would have it, the one was wetter than the other. Never mind! Tropical waters are warm, and so is tropical rain.

Bula, Dravuni Island!

I’m not sure whether the clouds, drizzle and eventual steady afternoon rain were a blessing or a curse: on the positive side, there were fewer cases of geriatric sunburn.

There’s no electricity here, and no cars; and, according to Heather from the shore excursion  team, “they’re as fascinated by us as we are by them”. This is billed as the true remote Fijian island experience.

Roy decided to stay on board and rest his sore knee – but before you commiserate, bear in mind that my husband is by no means a beach bunny.

 

From the temporary pier, you walk straight across a carpet of fine grass directly into colourful little Dravuni village, with its neat houses and sweet school.

 

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Visitors to the charming, three-roomed kindy and primary school are welcomed with a hearty chorus of bulas – and a discreet donation box

According to various reports, anything from 80 to 200 people actually live here; other entrepreneurial souls come across by boat from nearby islands in the hope of earning Aussie dollars by braiding hair or selling trinkets, green coconut juice and snacks.

Passengers are strictly warned not to take any food or drink (apart from bottled water) into Fiji – something to do with customs and health regulations – so I’d had breakfast on board. Otherwise, I might have tried this appetising-looking $10 meal: a fat lamb sausage grilled over hot coals, a chicken drumstick, cassava, sweet potato and boiled taro leaves

Turning right at the school,  I found myself heading steadily up a hill to a lookout point, about a 20-minute trek each way and worth it for the views. The other way leads to a cheerful-looking cemetery festooned with colourful decorations; you can take another path to skirt it.

But I had a sudden and inexplicable vision of being charged by wild boars, and so decided to return to the beach to try out my new snorkelling gear.

I found a couple of coral sites teeming with small-to-medium fish, and also heard that there was a big mass of floating coral not too far away. By now it was raining steadily, so, partly to get some cover, I took a chance on a $20, 25-minute massage from a friendly but inexpert island woman. (The sand on my skin made for some unintentional exfoliation– bonus!)

Later, back on board, I felt sorry for the cleaners working flat out on the thankless task of vacuuming up all the sand we were bringing back with us. How they must dread beach days.

Bonjour, Maré!

The morning rain was falling so hard that I hesitated at first to go ashore; instead, I hit the gym, choosing the treadmill with the best view of the island.

By 11am it seemed a bit clearer, so I grabbed my stuff and boarded the tender for the short ride ashore. From the pier, my US$16 return shuttle ticket took me the 11km to Yejele Turquoise Beach on the other side of the island.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This white-powder beach would have been even more gorgeous on a sunny day. The snorkelling is said to be pristine, too – but rain had clouded the water, and there was a rather strong rip.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Apart from that, there was nothing much more to do than spend three dollars on yet another green coconut, and enjoy practising my French on the vendors and bus drivers.

 

 

 

           

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Conclusion

So, we’ve come to the end of our adventures in the South Pacific aboard Holland America Line’s Noordam. I’ve encountered places, people and cultures entirely new to me. And I wasn’t seasick, not even once.

From Sydney, we flew back to Perth to await the birth of our lovely daughter Blaire’s first baby. He’s also our first grandson – Samuel John Cartwright, born on 7 April.

Tonight, we’re flying to South Africa, via Singapore, for five or six weeks with friends and family. May is generally a glorious month in Durban, so watch this space!