Uniquely Theo

What an exquisite way to begin the day—with a beachside breakfast overlooking the bay. As I sipped the last of my Via laced coffee, I took in the tranquil, deep-turquoise waters of this sheltered cove, the sandy beach, and the coconut palms. It was hard to imagine a more idyllic setting.

Tasia had already headed over to the rocky shoreline, where she was exploring the various splash pools and rock pools scattered across a platform of volcanic rock. Not wanting to miss out on anything, Bernadette and I weren’t far behind.

From a distance, I could never have imagined the richness of the sea life inhabiting these rocky outcrops. Up close, the pools were fascinating little worlds, each seemingly offering something new to discover. Exploring them, however, required a certain amount of care—and perhaps a little more caution than my curiosity naturally encouraged.

Walking across wet volcanic rock meant negotiating every single step. The surfaces looked smooth and inviting, but parts were slick with algae and a thin film of seawater. Rounded edges, ridges, and crevices made for uneven footing, while the tiny snails and barnacles offered their own assortment of rough patches. Marveling at the wonders of nature came with a healthy dose of nervousness. Far from a doctor or ER and a very long way from home, this was definitely not the place for a slip or a tumble.

So I moved slowly, tested each step, and kept my eyes firmly on the ground. Which, as it turned out, was exactly the right strategy for spotting a sea cucumber tucked beneath a ledge. New concept! There are times when being cautious and being curious work remarkably well together.

Among the delights of our exploration was the sheer variety of life in these little pools. We spotted a brown reef fish, sea cucumbers, and an assortment of crabs and snails. Every crevice seemed to hold the possibility of another discovery, and I found myself peering into the pools with increasing fascination—while remaining very mindful of where I put my feet. Highlights, see below, were a reef shark, clusters of zig-zag periwinkle, waved nitrate shells (blue checkered), sea cucumber, rock crab, yellow lobed sponges.

It was a wonderful reminder that sometimes the most interesting parts of a tropical paradise aren’t the grand views in the distance, but the miniature worlds hiding right at your feet. Provided, of course, that you can manage to keep your feet underneath you.

Now it was time to head to the dive shop to hopefully square away our equipment. Clearly, yesterday, with my own snorkel, I was completely incapable of taking advantage of that snorkel’s “protective splashguard top engineered to fend off unwanted surface water ” and it’s “ingenious one-way purge valve which would easily clear any sucked up water– just in case the first feature did not work as expected.” According to the advertisements all of this was going to be a breeze. Well, it was not a breeze as I kept sucking in the Pacific and my lung capacity was in no way capable of blasting the water out of the purge valve no matter how hard I huffed.

Before long the dive shop outfitted Bernadette and me with the budget airline version of a snorkel: no frills, no perks, and no fancy features of any kind. It worked great. They also outfitted us with a life preserver. Once in the water all of this was a great improvement over yesterday’s performance when I flailed and floundered in a desperate effort to keep myself off the reef as I was constantly readjusting my mask and emptying the sea water cocktail out of my snorkel. Today snorkeling was no long the side-show but the main event and I was actually enjoying the reef.

What else is there to do on an isolated Fijian island where the main event is snorkeling or scuba? Between snorkeling session (about 2 of an hour long duration each day, but usually ending by how chilled of “pruned” I got), there was plenty of options. This day we joined a cooking class where front and center were coconut and ice cream. The coconuts were cracked open and shredded ahead of time. Then it was slowly cooked down in a pot and browned with sugar until caramelized and then piled high on ice cream in a coconut shell bowl. A pretty delicious way to rejuvenate after an afternoon of snorkeling.

We had signed up for a sunset cruise, so at about 5:15 we loaded onto the “glass” bottom boat with two others–in this case young women. This was unlike any glass bottom boat I’ve been on. Whatever the bottom was made of, it was nearly impossible to see through, and we saw nothing underwater. The view over the side of the boat was far better, so I’m not sure the glass was doing much besides sitting there looking hopeful. It would have been a deal breaker had I not been able to snorkel but it really was secondary to just being out on the water at sunset.

The sunset, at least, did not disappoint. The cruise was nearly as entertaining for what the two young women were doing, which, as on one of the ferries earlier in the trip, were photographing each other in every imaginable pose with the sunset behind them. That went on for most of the cruise, until they offered to take our picture. They fired off about twenty shots in a flash, and we struck a few poses, mostly as a gentle mockery of what we’d been watching. It was great fun.

The other thing that caught my eye was the man driving the boat, who spent most of the trip staring at his phone. With an ocean that wide and empty, I doubt there was any real safety risk, but it struck me as funny that even out here, at the edge of the sea, one can’t unplug. After a delightful hour on the water, we headed back to shore for a Fijian buffet dinner.