The Boat Trip

I always find this a sad, but oh so relevant example of how over development can so easily destroy the natural pleasures in life as simple as human interaction of this kind. I am sure you would rarely, if ever, see this kind of scene back home. However within about 5 minutes, Scott finds the temptation to slip back a few years into schoolboy mode too hard to resist, proving that he is in fact the biggest kid of us all, much to the amusement of all the schoolchildren. Passing wind proves to be the highlight of their Sunday, as they all collapse in fits of laughter for the remainder of the time that we are there.

Scenes straight out of 'Swiss Family Robinson' I watched as a child are replayed to me as we reach our first port of call today: small beach huts, lining a palm fringed beach far from anywhere, with no electricity, no running water and people filling their days fishing, climbing trees for coconuts, collecting papayas and all the various other wonderful fruits that grow here instead of what would be a trip to the mall or the local supermarket! This way of life is so pure and natural that I find myself asking perhaps unanswerable questions: have we as humans got so carried away with technological advances, fast cars and expensive lifestyles that the simple things in life pass us by unnoticed? Would life not be easier, more

enjoyable and indeed more fulfilling if we calmed down and just made do with what nature has to offer? I certainly can't think of anything else that I would need right now, except for maybe my girlfriend, and she is not something I could buy in the shops!

Once we get out through the pass, the pureness and wonder that is all around us overwhelms me further. Here we are right in the middle of the ocean, far from land, and before our eyes a perfect left hand breaking wave is peeling off with absolutely no one on it. Although it's small, we still manage to get some fun waves, just the five of us in blissful, glassy surf. The water is so clear and transparent, that it feels as though the reef with all its colourful vegetation and fish eating off it is jumping right out at us. And yes, the fish, they're everywhere, of every colour, shape and size and they are all quite simply magnificent.

Indeed the fishermen amongst us are becoming agitated as they spot flocks of birds out to sea centered over a patch of frothing water. Looking closely, I soon see why; I notice large yellow fin tuna jumping clean out of the water in a mad frenzy. We rush back to the boat and head out to sea to be a part of it. Something bites on the lines we have put out and a sudden rush of excitement races through the boat. It's a long battle as the yellow fin we succeed in attracting must weigh a good 60 lbs or so! Luckily Scott, perhaps the most experienced of us all in this field, manages to get the huge and attractive looking fish aboard. A few hours later we are sat around in the living quarters over a plate of the best sushi I have ever had.

As we all muster over the ocean charts, plotting the exact details of the adventure we are about to embark on, I become aware of the vast area that makes up the Fijian islands. We are to concentrate solely on one particular spot though, Kadavu (pronounced Kendavu by the Fijians), one of the more exposed areas of the island chain both in terms of swell and wind. Our Captain, Charlie, although neither a windsurfer or surfer, assures us that not only has he passed through this area many a time on various dive adventures, but is positive about its potential in terms of both windsurfing and surfing. Scott has been on plenty of trips with this character in the past, and reassures us that if anyone knows, Charlie does.

I must admit that anyone who has spent that amount of time at sea not only commands a great deal of respect in my eyes, but is also a reliable source on this subject. What's more, if you had to look up in a book to see what a Fijian diver/captain/man of the sea looks like, Charlie fits the bill.

We set off through the Kadavu Passage, a crossing that takes longer than we expect, but once again the conditions have not yet hit the area, so time is on our side. Mooring up in a secluded bay under the stars, I go for a moonlit swim. Everything is so unbelievably peaceful that I almost wish I could make time stand still for a while to savour this moment. However thoughts of surfing new and previously undiscovered waves with my mates the next day begin to overwhelm me and all of a sudden, tomorrow just can't come soon enough!