Day 10 - Tuesday December 18, 2001 - 9:00am

I’m a bit of an anomaly here. Single, that is. It’s that Fijian ‘family’ thing again.

I was asked last night by my waiter where my family was - tough answer, that. Of course Castaway is a place that caters to rather wealthy European and Anza (Australia and New Zealand) families. A lot of children - young boys and girls, of all ages. I appear to be the only single person here. A couple from Denmark, one from Sweden, several from the UK, one from Germany, a couple of Canadians and at least one American. You can always spot the American - it’s like Where’s Waldo?, only with guns!

Later

There are a million Mynah birds here - they’re everywhere and can they sing! They’re over at Musket Cove as well; I just didn’t realize they were Mynahs until this morning. Must be the national bird. Kinda like the ‘Shit Hawk’, sorry - the seagull is Vancouver’s bird.

Later Still

I think I may be getting it… I’ve had this creeping — not creepy, just creeping — feeling that the combination of being single and using a laptop computer is a little off-putting to the staff. They’re suspicious, I think, of my intentions. “Must be a travel writer - best be on our top behaviour,” I imagine them saying. I get the strangest looks when I open it up and begin writing.

I’d like to believe it’s because it’s a Macintosh: translucent white and very small compared to other PC-based laptops. But, I don’t think that’s the reason. I’ve been asked several times since arriving yesterday if I’ve ever been to Fiji before - the standard conversation starter here I’ve come to realize. My answer always manages to surprise them: “No, it’s my first time. I was at Musket Cove last week, and I’m moving on to somewhere else after I leave here. I want to see as much of Fiji as possible before I return home.” This response is a little challenging for them I think, because these places I’m visiting are resorts and most people, if I’m to believe what other travellers are saying, drop in for a few days, maybe a week and then head home. It’s a short vacation. No one, it seems, drops anchor, enjoys themselves, weighs anchor and moves on to the next resort like I’m doing.

There’s a fair amount of competition here among island resorts and when I say that I spent “last week at Musket Cove”, staff members I’ve never met come up to me and say, “So, you were at Musket Cove last week. What was that like?” Like they don’t know! They’re curious, I guess, to see what the competition is up to.

Add all this up and you have a fairly good reason to believe that I might actually be writing some travel exposé and they’d like to be sure that I write nice things about Castaway Island Resort. Like I said, this country revolves around the almighty dollar and tourism is the second largest revenue generator on the islands after sugar exports. Add the all-too prevalent fact that the sugar business is depressed and tourism is growing, and competition takes on a whole new meaning.

Yet another aspect of this ‘unusual’ nomadic existence called, “My Life”.

Same Day - 9:12pm

Nature is cruel. Along with all the sun, sand, salt water, chlorine and warm breezes, my hair is turning blond and gray - it can’t seem to make up its mind which. Several chest hairs as well - damn!

Later

There are several truisms about this group of islands. The water can reach body temperature in no time - it’s clear, sometimes to unbelievable depths. It’s also capable of a million different shades of blue on any given day. The sun is warm, sometimes unbearably hot. It rains… sometimes, though less than you’d think even during rainy season - November through April. The native Fijians have a lilting almost poetic language that evolved by itself with no outside influences. And the islands abound with natural fish, seafood and fruit, ripe and ready to eat. Well, actually that last one isn’t true, not at all. Not by half.

Let’s start with the fruit. Most fruit that can be found on the morning menus is imported or found in short supply on the islands. The only one that seems to run rampant is the prolific mango. More mangoes are run over by cars and eaten by insects and wild animals than are sold in stores on these islands. During mango season, which is now, this delicious fruit can be found by closing your eyes and swinging a cat around by its tail. The cat will locate the mango by meowing, sometimes quite loudly. Seriously, they’re everywhere. But even then, most are exported. So, if you don’t hit the breakfast trail early enough you might miss out. As for the other tropical fruits — guava, papaya, pineapple, even watermelon — they’re relatively rare and in short supply.

Fish, seafood, shellfish…? Similar story.

There is very little seafood caught in amongst the islands - seafood that would be transferred to or purchased by the restaurants at least. The commercial fishing industry is based in Suva, the capital city located on the big island of Vita Levu, or ‘mainland’ as it’s called here. Since Suva is on the opposite side of the ‘mainland’ to Nadi (site of the international airport and the access point for most of the ‘tourist’ islands like this one, plus Musket Cove and the Yasawa’s) most of the catch doesn’t make it over here. Like the beef, pork and chicken, most of this meat is raised and processed on the big island and then shipped to the outer islands on an ‘on demand’ basis, with replete shipping fees and taxes. Not a cheap prospect. The lamb is completely non-existent except for that which is imported from New Zealand, a frequently cheaper prospect than the local meats, or so I’m told.

What fish there is, is normally the game fish — mahimahi, marlin, sailfish, tuna, et al — which is normally snatched-up by the Japanese (see earlier comments on ‘big game’ trophy fishing). If a fisherman happens to catch a 300kg tuna, he can sell that to a Japanese consortium (there are offices for just this purpose in both Nadi and Suva) for an average price of US$100 a kilo - that’s US$30,000 per fish. And this fisherman might catch two or three a week. Not much point in selling it to a local restaurant, and even if he did, the customers wouldn’t be able to afford the dinner made from it.

Most of the fish that’s served in the outer island restaurants — and there’s precious little of it — is Walu (or ‘butter fish’) or Wahoo (sometimes referred to as ‘ono’). This is the fish that’s normally used as bait for the big game fishes. That’s not to say it isn’t good, it is. Firm, tasty, boneless (for the most part) white meat. But you’d think that with the propensity of travellers desiring seafood the restaurants would take greater care in preparing it. I’ve had fish twice now and in one case it was breaded and in the other it was fried! No grilled fish (although that’s what it was referred to as on the menu!), no steamed, no poached.

I would have to say that this is the single biggest surprise of my trip thus far. And a disappointing one at that. Quite frankly, the food in general everywhere has been lackluster. Witness dinner this evening and…

The Tale of The Sirloin Steak

Sorry to keep ranting about the food, but it’s a significant reason people look forward to travel - to sample local wares. Sad to say that most, if not all the dishes I’ve tried wouldn’t look out of place in a Midwestern IHOP in dire need of new management.

I ordered a sirloin steak for dinner this evening. It was to be served medium rare on a bed of garlic mashed potatoes. The end result would have fit the menus of any Keg, Hy’s or Morton’s - it was indeed tasty. But… the steak came in two pieces, one was medium rare the other well done. One was juicy and flavourful, the other was about as appetizing as a year-old Nike Cross Trainer - how does this happen? The garlic mashed potatoes arrived sans garlic and were distinctly of the Carnation Instant / Idahoan variety. I’m not really complaining here - instant mashed potatoes are one of my guilty pleasures. However….

I began the evening with a Caesar’s Salad. It arrived with no garlic, no anchovies and no Parmesan. The bacon bits had the consistency and taste of driftwood. Completely flavourless.

It is indeed strange that the best meal I’ve had in Fiji to date, and from the same kitchen as above, should be a pizza, which, you’ll recall me saying earlier, had tons of garlic, anchovies and parmesan!

Same Day - 10:39pm

I wasn’t going to mention this, but here goes…

The Tale of The Tube Steak

I can’t imagine that homosexuality is something that the religious and family-oriented Fijians accept let alone condone, but like all societies in the world it’s probably as prevalent here as anywhere.

I mention this because a male staff member today at the front door of my bure propositioned me.

I had just stepped out of the shower in mid-afternoon after another busy day at the beach (you know, the usual: reading Robert Ludlum, watching women trying to sneak a quick nude bathing moment, swimming, watching women trying to sneak a quick nude bathing moment. The usual.) when I went to my wardrobe closet in the bedroom to fetch my sulu. Apparently the sight of my naked ass was just too much for this particular staff person who walked up to my door and knocked.

Startled, I quickly wrapped the gaily-coloured cloth… OK, strike that!

Startled, I quickly donned the coloured wrap and went to the door. I was greeted with a big smile and a hearty welcome. “Bula!” he said. I bulaed him back and asked if there was anything I could do for him. He started making some small talk about the islands, where was I from, and asked how long I was staying at Castaway. “Just till Sunday,” I said. “Then it’s back to Musket Cove.” The whole time he’s asking and listening he’s giving me the ‘tits-to-toes’ routine. “Well,” he says, “if there’s anything you need, anything I can do, please let me know - I’d love to be of assistance to make your stay more…” he paused for effect, “…enjoyable.” This last word was emphasized with his best Michael Jackson impression - he grabbed his crotch!

I swear this guy was ten inches flaccid! They don’t wear socks in this part of the world, so it must have been real.

If I were into muscular black guys with big dicks I’m guessing this guy would float my boat. I’m not - he didn’t! I was actually quite surprised and I didn’t know what to say or where to look. OK, obviously I knew where to look, but I didn’t want to! I said no thanks, not interested, and besides, I said, “I’m a Methodist now.”

He left. I think that last bit offended him.