In the early sunrise of Sunday morning, I prepared food and the galley for our arrival. We had just entered the waters of Fiji as the sun came out from its slumber highlighting small islands, their black half moon orbs dotting the horizon. With the exception of our quick stop in Tahiti, we had been out at sea for a month. A shower of relief ran down me from head to toe as I saw the end of the journey coming closer into sight. The rest of the crew began to move around the boat throughout the next couple hours in preparation for our arrival. Stewardesses put restocked stowed items to their stations and gave the boat's interior a cleaning. The deck crew sprayed the sticky humid salt off the three decks starting on the sun deck and working their way down to the main. The captain made a call to the port to confirm our arrival. Everyone moved with a little more juice in their step. The drudgery and tired expressions of the last month had turned into smiles and hugs as we started talking about what we would do with our day on land. I read through the immigration paperwork again to begin setting aside the items (such as produce and unsealed grains) that the officers would be likely to confiscate. I laughed to myself as I read that Fiji also will throw away all pornographic material or Holy Water found onboard. Interesting. "Every country is different in their own weird ways," I thought to myself as I remembered the ridiculously old labrador Mexican immigration brought onboard as their "drug dog". Smelling our lunch in the crew mess he'd led the police in a hurried chase down the crew stairs to a plate of sandwiches and then proceeded to roll around on his back for belly rubs, his handler blushing and smiling. I wondered if we'd get a furry little friend to play with in Fiji.
I stood on the swim platform with a fender in hand as we backed into our slip on the dock in case we came too close to one of the large steel pillions we needed to maneuver between. Our starboard bow thruster was on the fritz and we were in a strong current so it took us a bit of time to dock. Calm as always under pressure, our captain joked on the radio, "You guy having fun yet?" Relaxing from our tension we laughed at his greatly timed joke and cheered causing claps from the dock hands who had come to help us with our lines and had now sat down to wait patiently for us to dock. "Bula!" they yelled out to us in greeting waving us in. "Bula!" we yelled back. Ryan released our starboard anchor, Jake pulled me back up to the main deck, and I threw one of the stern lines to the dock helper as we tied off, aft facing the dock. As I looked around the neighborhood of yachts, every single boat around us was an expedition style yacht like us. I guess they are the ones best fit for these long trips! The yacht next door had also just come in from the United States a few weeks prior and greeted us warmly making plans with the guys to go for drinks later. Overwhelmed and heart racing, I checked with Jake to see if I was needed on deck anymore and then retreated back to the galley to finish cooking brunch with what I imagine was a huge smile on my face.
We passed immigration quickly with the same welcoming and friendly warmth from the officers that we'd received from the dock crew. They took none of our produce or food off the boat and gave us advice on places to eat and drink in town before hugging us goodbye. Hands down the easiest and kindest entry into any country we have yet to experience. When they left, we danced around the boat excited to officially be on land and had a champagne toast with brunch. The crew cleaned up afterward and I left with the captain to check us in and to grab a few food items for the weekend from the local grocery store. I floated on land as I half walked, half skipped smiling and saying "Bula" to anyone who should walk by. Thank God…we were finally in Fiji.
I have been learning so much through these travels in particular, like a crash course in understanding one's limits. I have had to come to terms with a lot that lies within me. Maintaining calm and holding opinions, learning to sit in silence in the dark and be at peace without the need to fill the void with my words or to shut off. There is an ever present energy that surrounds the boat underway with waves crashing our portholes at night, the gentle and sometimes intrusive rocking of the moving water below, and the wind that is constantly moving in the sky. Constellations above become bright in the darkness and fade in the bright moonlight that brightens the ocean below. Sun rises as moon sets, blue light becomes golden, and new days are born out of lapsed time. We listen to news broadcasts on the radio and comment to each other about the state of the world, the conflicts in each of our countries, our distance from these things. It is hard to not let your imagination go wild when you are left to your thoughts so much but it is also hard to relate when you are so far from civilization and any other people. I watch Facebook posts and feel so remote and unable to connect to my friends' lives and yet I keep on watching because I don't want to be alone. I don't want to be forgotten or to forget. I post thoughts and photos on a more regular basis than I would to drop a line out into the universe saying, " I'm still here!" I daydream about walking to my favorite coffee shop down my old street with my dog and sitting with my girlfriends after work enjoying a beer amongst locals that recognize me. I have sleepless nights where I am haunted by all the poor decisions I have made in my past, the people I have hurt, shake my head to try to think about something else. My mind constantly entertains the question of how much longer I see myself working on a boat and if all these experiences are worth the loneliness. I don't want to be out in the middle of the ocean anymore. I don't want to have this be my end. I miss the little things I didn't appreciate before and I am seeing how small and insignificant I am in this world surrounded by nobody that loves me. My watch partner said to me yesterday, " I am so ready to get to land already that I don't even care that we are going to Fiji. Can you believe that?" he laughed self consciously. I laughed with him in agreement. I couldn't have worded it better. It may sound like such an ungrateful thing to write but I really don't care. Its the truth. My happiest thoughts are of home. My joy to just be free of the confines of the boat and my sleepless schedule has no preference for the piece of land that will furnish that.
I am having breakfast in bed watching CNN now in my hotel room catching up on my world news. I have been here the last two days enjoying the large bed, the nights full of sleep, and the beautiful Fiji sunsets by the pool. The Myna birds have been chirping loudly outside my window since sunrise and I can hear hotel staff dropping off newspapers and trays to rooms around. I took a stroll early this morning wishing I had brought a sweater. Mornings and evenings are chilly and overcast. It is not as warm here as I had thought it would be and that is a pleasant surprise. Returning to my room, I set myself to write this blog that I am just now able to write. My whole reason in beginning this blog was to go out into the world and to write about what truths I experience as well as to learn through other people and their view of truth. I have hesitated because it has not been the most positive of experiences getting here. It has been hard and I have learned that my sanity is perhaps more fragile than I had previously thought. I have to be okay with the fact that not all truth is some beautiful story wrapped up with a line of gratefulness at the end. Sometimes it is an open-ended story with no resolution or maybe one that may not come for a long time. It is, however, better that I wrote this blog now and did not send out the myriad of depressing writings that dotted my trip and just say that they were there and leave it at that.
I am so very very grateful to all my friends and family who have posted funny videos and musings on Facebook. I know you didn't do it for me but let me say, it was these little things that helped me or gave me a nice chuckle. I am proud of myself for getting to where I am but mostly for the clarity this trip has given me in realizing the people and the things that truly matter to me the most in this world. The money and the destination has faded from importance and I hope I can always see this as clearly in my life as I do right now. I am desperately looking forward to returning home for a couple weeks in December and hugging my dear loved ones who were next to me each dark night of this journey. In the darkness, they are the stars that truly shine the brightest.
