Sitting on the beach on Yasawa island we could see our cruise ship way out in the bay. We had been ferried by the lifeboat to a small jetty floating on oil drums by the shore; the only intrusion of modern civilisation into that glimpse of unspoilt nature. Pieces of coral had been washed up onto the beach; twiglets of white standing in the sand. A cooling breeze encouraged a light surf and at the edge of the water a mixture of coral and sand, broken down over the centuries, was sharp on the feet. Nevertheless the tepid water invited a swim in the clear sea. The wave action had steepened the descent of the beach but then it rose up to a plateau before the deeper waters beyond.
There were of course dangers to swimming in those parts. Not from the sharks, which patrolled the deeper waters, but from the sun which penetrated the water as we swam. If we stood to chat it would burn our shoulders where the sun cream had been washed away. We swam on our back as much as our front, and rationed our time to fifteen minutes.
Organising a barbecue for about 500 people was evidently routine - with a complement of chefs capable of feeding up to 800 people. A thatched roof protected the cold drinks and buckets of cooling ice. A variety of fish and meat was served, evidently from a barbecue production line. Salads and rolls were to be had at the adjacent stalls. The gateaux and ice cream were discreetly placed on one side in order, no doubt, to prevent temptation at too early a stage in the meal. The reader might ask whether such a repast would spoil the idea of paradise away from the temptations and distractions of the western world. I have to admit that it did not, and I was able to separate my thoughts from those higher ideals long enough to enjoy the meal.
Behind, in the trees, the native Melanesians had laid out their wares on mats for our inspection. Woodcarvings and polished shells were predominant; some made into intricate and colourful necklaces. A magnificent belt made of shells by a Fijian woman was offered for sale for five Fijian dollars (equivalent to about three pounds). The woven baskets and mats were typical of other islands we had visited earlier. They were made from the leaf of the pandanus palm tree.
Some 100 metres along the shore lay the village. The houses, made of woven bamboo and a thatched roof, were cool and matting lined the floor. The accommodation consisted of a communal room; sometimes with sections curtained off with the bamboo or woven matting. The village was shaded by palm trees; some bearing coconuts; alongside were plots for vegetables. The beach was but 50 metres away with an abundance of fish. Nearby we could hear the familiar melodic song of the Melanesian people accompanied by guitars. It appeared to be a very relaxed and peaceful way of life. My wife thought she would like to stay there.
As the shadows lengthened at the end of the day we returned, reluctantly to our ship and soon the island was left to itself, its palm trees, and its Melanesian people.
Derrick Grover has travelled extensively. In addition to his various published articles. he is also an experienced photographer and supplies high quality images to support his writing.
More information on The Pacific cruise at http://www.travoto.com/pacific.htm.
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