#25 Shark cage diving (without the cage) – Beqa & the Astrolobe Reef

“Today you will be diving with up to 6 types of sharks” the overly smiley Fijian told us divers nervously suiting up. “White tips. black tips, nurse, lemon, bull and, if you’re really lucky, some tigers!”. I couldn’t help noticing as he was counting these off on his fingers he seemed to me missing a couple. “what are those long poles for?” “to keep our shark friends away from you. Sometimes they can get a little friendly when we feed them” he chuckled. None of us were smiling. “Is it dangerous then?”. “don’t worry about that” our guide grinned not answering the question, “we promise that this time we will all return safely”. Why did he say “this time”? Sensing a mutiny he quickly added “it is perfectly safe for everyone, I promise” he smiled even more broadly assuming this would settle our nerves. It didn’t. “returning safely” was all relative. We had previously heard of a one-armed barman who used to work with these guys who might argue with the definition. They say that although he still gets a bit angry about what happened to him, he’s mostly ‘armless. (sorry couldn’t resist that one).

Learning to dive and the Cheesemen (and women)

But before jumping into water and almost certain death, we had planned to spend the best part of week chilling out in the Musket Cove marina and catching up with our good friends, the Cheesman family. They had organised their holiday around us, picking a resort next to a marina at the time we said we’d likely be around the area. This cunning plan was devised over a few beers and internet searches well over a year ago so it was amazing that it actually came together perfectly. If there is anyone as obsessive as me about planning and scheduling holidays way in advance it has to be Gareth C.

We came up with an equally cunning plan to make the most of the fact we were moored right next to a dive shop by getting our diving qualifications. The British diving qualification I got in 1999 was lost in the mists of tine so I wanted to get “re-done” under PADI and Jasmine, being 3 weeks older than the minimum 10 year age limit, was desperate to go deeper than she could free dive. Hugo didn’t want mum to be the only one missing out so declared he was only going to do it if she did. Lottie, showing her courage for the umpteenth time on this trip, took a deep breath and agreed she would try. The person who a few months ago didn’t want to snorkel out of her depth would attempt to become a qualified scuba diver. I could have burst with pride.

First up we had about 10 hours of online learning and exams to do but fortunately the programme used was the same we have for our corporate online training so I knew all the short cuts and how to fast forward through the boring bits. As soon as I completed mine, I helped Jassie and Hugo with theirs. As it happened, the kid’s capacity for learning was so much better than us oldies, they picked up the details much better than we did and would regularly tell us off for not following procedure or giving the right hand signal (I’ll give you a hand signal son!).

The first dive was in the coldest pool on the planet and while we officially learned stuff like how to take your mask off underwater and control your buoyancy the big takeaway was how to manage hypothermia and how to swim without feeling your hands and feet. Jazz was a perfect textbook case and us students noted with interest her bright blue lips, uncontrollable shaking and slightly spaced out demeanor all agreeing that she was in the first stages of hypothermia. After laying on the warm tiles in the sun for 20 minutes she slowly turned back to her usual pink, stopped shivering and declared herself ready for the sea (but perhaps this time with a thicker wetsuit please).

Our first open water dive was next to one of the world’s most famous surf breaks, cloudbreak, off the islands of Tavarua and Namotu. The conditions were perfect with crystal clear water, no current and some interesting coral clumps surrounded by white sand. I dropped to the bottom with Charlie followed by Hugo and then a little later by Jasmine who took a bit of time to work out her buoyancy. After a little bit of yo-yoing up and down, Lottie finally joined us clutching the hand of our big Fijian dive instructor, Des. We were doing it! Breathing underwater in the ocean. I was so proud of the kids swimming along, adjusting their buoyancy, making the “I’m OK!” hand signal and checking their depth and air usage. If ever there was an argument for taking your kids out of Primary School and going adventuring for a while, surely this was it.

After the dive, Lottie returned to the surface slightly rattled and had a quiet chat with Des about whether she should do her second dive. His soothing comment of “well you’re still here, eh?” became one of Kilauea’s favourite lines to be used just after something scary happens (shark encounter, lightning storm, pirate attack, that sort of thing). Hats off to her, she did it again, and again and again and by the end of the next day we were all proudly clutching our certificates as fully fledged scuba divers qualified to dive to 20m depth. “So are you going to go diving again Lottie?” “Only if you fly in Des so I can hold his hand” was the joking (I think) reply.

In the afternoons we would catch up with the Cheesies for fun and games in the pool, on the beach or, dare I say, in the bar but I did squeeze in the odd boat job as well. I took the opportunity of having access to dive gear and being in a marina to install the second folding prop which had been flown in, this time from Australia. Charlie sat on the dock with an array of tools while I disappeared below in a cloud of bubbles to return a minute or two later handing her something I had removed and requesting a tool or part. Screwdriver, pliers, sledge hammer, that sort of thing. Before long the job was done. I have now installed not one but two folding propellers underwater. Yet another skill I will have no use for on land but I was proud of myself just the same.

Our last harrah with the Cheesies was taking them to “our” floating bar combining two of Gareth’s favourite things (beer and pizza) with one of mine (the ocean). We had a bunch of laughs (and a few tears) at anchor towing various children around on various toys and then swam / dinghied over to the bar for cocktails, tunes and pizza. Annabel and Lottie had the fortune of swimming back to the boat with two turtles in company although whether these sightings were just the result of that 7th cocktail, we will never know for sure.

The sharks of Beqa

Whilst we were having lots of fun, we were also getting itchy feet and we had heard from Chae on Waterhorse about one of the best shark dive sights in the world, a hundred miles or so to the East. It was, therefore, with a mix of excitement and sadness that we motored out of the marina waving goodbye to the Chessies and with a boat full of food, water, gas and fuel, turned our bows towards the ocean once again. As we were heading east into the prevailing trade winds we decided to take a few hops along the south coast (coral coast) of Fiji’s main island travelling very early in the mornings while the adverse winds were still light and sheltering in various anchorages in the afternoons when the wind was much stronger. This gave us the opportunity to anchor off a resort that we had previously visited on our first family holiday when Hugo was just a few months old. We had great fun reminiscing and re-enacting photos with the now 12 year old Hugo. I remember back then in 2010 watching a sailing boat cruise past the resort out in the ocean and dreaming of perhaps doing that ourseleves one day and it gave me a chance to appreciate just what we had achieved not only raising a couple of great kids but also making that dream a reality. Its important to reflect on stuff like that you know.

OK, one of us has aged better than the other

Beqa (pronounced Banga) consists of a main inhabited island and one or two little outlying uninhabited ones surrounded by a reef system. It’s a breeding area for various types of pelagic fish like marlin, wahoo and yellowfin tuna and is also home to a wide range of our more bitey friends, the sharks. There is very little on the island other than a couple of villages and a couple of boutique diving and fishing resorts. We joined a couple of other yachts anchored off one of the dive resorts and went ashore to explore. We were here to do one thing and that was dive, so we made friends with the resort and dive managers and booked ourselves onto a series of dives, a shark dive for myself and Charlie (kids were too young), a reef dive for all of us minus Lottie and a night wreck dive for me. Lottie (rather eagerly it seemed) elected to “look after the boat” while we went and played with the sea critters.

First up was the shark dive. We were to dive twice, each one following the same process. Descend to the reef about 5m below the boat and follow the guides to small drop off where we would descend to the seabed at about 25m depth. There we were to assemble behind a wall (“ah so we get some protection from the sharks?” I said “Er no, its only about two feet high and is there just so you can form a line and feel that there’s something between you and the sharks. In fact don’t touch it as its only loose coral and it will fall over”). Between each of us punters would be a guide diver with a 10 foot long pole “just in case they get a little frisky”. Other guides would descend with a wheelie bin full of tuna heads, transfer these to a steel box bolted to the sea bed (presumably fighting off sharks in the process) and then once all the marine life has settled down, two divers would open the box, grab a head each swim up above us punters, drop the heads, get out of there and see what happens. If it sounds like cage diving without the cage, well that’s exactly what it is. Bonkers. So what’s the worst that can happen eh? Well, if you really want to know, search for “Fiji Tiger Shark Attack” on youtube for a video that was filmed at this very spot just a few years ago. Fortunately, I hadn’t discovered this video before we went under.

So off we went, descended through the 20 or so black and white tips circling around, spotted half a dozen nurse and lemons skulking on the seabed along with a goliath grouper bigger than me and then 9 or 10 big bull sharks about 2m long glided into view. It wasn’t until the second dive that the tiger sharks came onto the scene. We were blessed with three of these huge, terrifying but beautiful creatures each at least 3m long and one approaching 4m.

So how to sum up the experience. Was it scary? Well yes, I admit to feeling a little apprehensive at times but I have to say the most overarching feeling I had was of awe. These creatures are first and foremost beautiful. The sunlight sparkling off the tiger stripes was breathtaking and the steely grey form and teeth filled mouths of the bulls demanded respect and admiration in equal measure. We had come so accustomed to sharks on this adventure that we could see past the prejudice that these creatures have suffered ever since Jaws was released and admire them for what they were; efficient, sleek, handsome animals evolved almost to perfection. It is an experience I will never forget.

The other dives, whilst less dramatic, were equally rewarding. Following Jasmine and Hugo through coral canyons on the ocean side of the reef felt almost unreal and during the night dive I was rewarded with an octopus, a spooky wreck and the sight of reef fish fast asleep tucked in amongst the coral. Who knew that some fish go to bed at night like we do? I could now understand why the locals laugh at us for spear fishing during the day. At night they just come along with a torch and spear the poor buggers at point blank range while they sleep in their coral beds!

Mission to the mainland

Whilst in Beqa the water pump failed again. “No problem!” I declared finger in the air, “I have a spare!”. “Didn’t you install that in the Tuamotus when the last one failed?” my all knowing wife pointed out. “Oh for F##s sake!”. So, no running water and two weeks of syphoning water out of the tanks into jerry cans for cooking and washing until we returned to Port Denerau. Or we could sail to the Fijian capital of Suva and add 100 miles and two long days of sailing to our itinerary. We decided to hit the resort bar to think things over and it was there that Lottie had one of her brain waves. “Why not see if anyone from the village is heading that way in a local boat and you can grab a lift with them?”. The nearest person was the barman so I asked him and he spoke to his mate who told us to walk along the beach and ask for Malakai. Within minutes I’d found one of the happiest men I’d ever met. “Of course my friend, let’s go tomorrow, I have some errands to run. Hey, perhaps we can catch some tuna on the way hey?” he winked. Not knowing whether this was a euphemism for something I grinned back, “you’re on, pick me up from that boat over there when you’re coming past!”

And so it was that I found myself in the most unseaworthy craft clearly made out of old bits of rusted steel welded together by a child, speeding across the lagoon heading for the pass into the open ocean and almost certain death. We had the 15 mile stretch of deep water that separates Beqa from the main island to cross and would therefore be exposed to the elements for around an hour. What if the rickety outboard failed? What if the boat flipped in a big wave? What if we hit a tree trunk and overturned? Where were those sharks again? Why didn’t I think to bring a VHF, or an EPIRB, or let’s face it, our boat!

There were no thoughts of danger troubling Malakai’s mind however. He wanted to fish! He passed me control of his craft while he prepared his gear which was simply a handline attached to a massive rapella lure. He then put on his wet weather gear laughing “its rough out there my friend!” and took back control instructing me to let the line out about 50m. “What happens if we get a bite?” “Just don’t let go!” he laughed as a big wave crashed over the boat instantly soaking me. All I could think of was how our stiff fishing rods would bend almost double when a tuna hit our smaller lures. There were some monsters in these waters weren’t there? Surely I’d be dragged overboard wouldn’t I? Fortunately for me and much to Malakai’s chagrin we didn’t get a bite and before long we were cruising up a wide river which is apparently where parts of Anaconda were filmed heading for the bustling town of Navua.

Malakai had a million tasks to perform while he was on the mainland. Many of the villages had put in requests for him to buy various treats for them such as cigarettes and favorite food items, one had given him a bag of chilli they had grown to sell at the market, some wanted money changed, others credit for their mobiles. He carried around a load of little paper bags each filled with the correct money and instructions on what to buy. How he covered everything off I have no idea. I, however, had one task, get a water pump. An hour’s taxi ride took me into Fiji’s capital, Suva, which was a bit of dump if I’m honest although to be fair I had just come from unspoiled paradise. And there it was the yacht chandlery and my lovely new water pump! Clutching my prize I returned to the riverside village and found my captain buying 30 frozen chickens from the local store. “Its for the village lovo we are cooking tomorrow”. You must come and have some!”. Well that’s tomorrow’s lunch sorted then!

Our return passage to Beqa was uneventful and being more downwind was a lot less bumpy and wet and I was soon deposited back on the good ship Kilauea and sent Malakai off with promises we would meet him at the lovo the next day. 30 minutes later the pump was humming and we were able to take showers again. What started out as a problem ended up giving me a great adventure and took me to places I would never have visited otherwise. Such is the way of cruising.

We visited the village to pay our respects and hand over kava to the chief and partake in the lovo. There we found a bunch of kids playing “tyre ball” which involved one kid rolling a tyre to try to get it to cross a line in the dirt to gain a point for his team while two other kids rolled tyres at 90 degrees to try to knock it out of the way, which would mean a point to them. Of course we all got involved, as did most of the village, and it had all the qualities of a great game, easy to play, hard to master. Again, we couldn’t help reflecting on how happy people with almost mothing are. They’ve created a fun game essentially out of trash and it was hard not to compare their smiling and laughing faces to the occasional zombie like ones of our kids scrolling through youtube videos. We received a huge helping of slow cooked fish, chicken and vegetables each for just $10 Fijian ($7 Australian) and could barely eat half of it, but it was delicious all the same.

We had become quite friendly with the guests at the diving resort, almost all of which were American. They ranged from slim corporate workers with all the latest diving technology who dive all over the world to a diving group from Nebraska who were on their annual trip. It was pretty remarkable that Nebraska had a diving club considering it was a completely landlocked state and many hundreds of miles from the ocean. We did notice that diving probably has a higher proportion of overweight “sports people” than any other extreme sport. It also seemed that the brightness of the wetsuit seemed to be directly proportional to the level of obesity when you would think it would be the other way around. For their (and our) last night they went on a sunset cruise. Later during our onboard dinner a big spotlight shone down at us, dance music was blaring out and there were shouts of “Kilauea! We love you!” The party boat did a couple of circuits around us with everyone on both boats waving and dancing to the tunes before we all shouted our goodbyes and they headed off back to the resort beach for more rum.

Free diving and Manta rays

Our next plan was to cruise the islands within the Great Astrolobe Reef, one of the largest barrier reefs in the world (although it is tiny compared to the good old Aussie one of course). We had a feisty all-day sail between Beqa and this reef system but by early afternoon we were safely tucked up in a beautiful and protected anchorage at Nabouwalu on the west side of Ono Island. We had a number of things we wanted to experience in these islands and the next day we went off to the first of these, the manta rays of the uninhabited island of Vurolevu (or manta ray island as we would call it). We anchored up and dinghied over to the spot marked on our chart where there was a cleaning station where they were supposed to hang out. We found the station and although we found no mantas, what we did find on the nearby beach was a beautiful and very rare nautilus shell. These bizarre looking prehistoric animals live at great depths and when they die, their shells float to the surface and wash up on beaches. They are very fragile and so to find one in perfect condition put any disappointment about the mantas far from our mind.

We continued on to an anchorage on the east side of Kadavu Island for the night and then the next day we took Kilauea to the outer reef and anchored her alongside one of the passes. The drift snorkel through the pass was exceptional. We had timed the tide perfectly and there was no current, just crystal clear water and a 20m wall of coral and fish. We took it in turns to show off our free diving skills. It seemed that the dive training had awoken free diving skills in all of us. Jasmine and Lottie were diving to 3 or 4m depth, Hugo was reaching 5 or 6m and Charlie was easily breaking the 10m barrier. It was a lot of fun but when our fingers and toes started tingling and dizziness started to kick in we decided we’d pushed it enough. We hauled anchor and headed back to Bullya Island next to manta ray island to sit out a couple of days of strong winds.

The village on Bullya Island was one of the friendliest we had visited. I know I keep saying that but it was! We were given a tour of the village, gifted a big bag of veggies (and plenty of papaya of course) and in return provided some batteries that were in short and also supplied some medicine for an old lady who seemed to be suffering from swollen joints. We also revisited the manta ray island twice by dinghy. The first of these was in the morning and sure enough we spotted two of these graceful creatures taking it in turns to pause at the cleaning station (which was essentially a large coral head) while a myriad of tiny fish swarmed over them picking off parasites to eat. We kept a respectful distance knowing they would check us out if they wanted to but only on their terms. Unfortunately, the tourist in one of the resort boats that pitched up just after us had other ideas and swam right at them leaving them no choice but to flick their great wings and head off into the depths.

The next morning we went even earlier determined to get the mantas to ourselves and we were not disappointed. We came to the cleaning station but there were no mantas to be seen. Then some squarking into snorkels announced the arrival of a large manta ray swimming straight at us. On its tale was a second then a third and then more. In total there were 7 rays all swimming nose to tail straight at us. We hovered on the surface and they formed a perfect circle just below our fins spiraling around us once and then twice before peeling off and heading away again. The whole episode only took half a minute or so but left us all speechless. It was one of those interactions with nature that felt quite personal. It was as if there was some communication there although who knew what it was. Grinning, we clambered into our dinghy, our quest for manta rays sated for the time being just as the tourist boats arrived.

The kid boats arrive!

Just as we were wondering what to do next we got a satellite phone message from our good kiwi mates on Far Out saying they were heading our way. We met up with them and their new friends, another kiwi family on a monohull called Flying Cloud at a remote island called Namara. Someone had built a little bar on the beach out of driftwood and we needed no other reason than that to have a party that night with a big bonfire, grilled food and marsh mellows. The bar got a lot of action as well of course. It was superb to reunite with Far Out again and just as good to get to know Dave and Jo and their three full of life boys, Jack, Beau and Danny. Dave has competed at and coached windsurfing and kiteboarding up to Olympic level and was the first person to complete the 120 mile Auckland to Russel Coastal Classic yacht race… on a kiteboard! He sailed that thing for 7 1/2 hours! You wouldn’t know of his achievements until you prised them out of him however. He’s a very down to earth laid back and modest guy. His lovely wife, Jo specializes in marriage counselling specifically when the husband has cheated. She is absolutely hilarious, and she and Charlotte hit it off instantly.

The next morning, Lottie climbed up to the roof to try to get a signal on her phone to see what was going on in the world and got just enough to find out that Queen Elizabeth had passed away. We dinghied over to Far Out and Flying Cloud to let them know and I think we were all in a bit of shock and felt very sad, much more so than most of us would have imagined. A Brit/Aussie and two kiwi families in the middle of nowhere being united by the loss of our shared monarch and head of State. All we could do was mark the occasion by lowering our flags to half mast for the next few days.

After a subdued day, we then spent a great few days cruising in company with our two monohull mates with days spent snorkeling, foiling and exploring and evenings spent having drinks on each other’s boats or having BBQs on the beach. Before long, however, Flying Cloud headed off to Musket Cove via Beqa and then we left as well. We had the Musket Cove regatta to get to and Kilauea was competing!

Find out how we went on in the next installment.