Jean Michele Cousteau Resort, Vanua Levu, Fiji Islands

Therse's a story about Polynesians. This sort of illustrates how it is with islanders.

The story goes like this:

A Mexican and a Polynesian are talking about thier countries, about The differences.

"Bruddah, you know how in Mexico, you say, when people ask about when things will happen, you say, "Manana, Manana?"

"Si, we say this"

"On my island, we don't have this sense of urgency."

Jean Michel Cousteau Resort, Vanua Levu, Fiji Islands

"Bula!"

The fijian greeting. Akin to 'aloha' I guess, but not the same thing. It's pronounced "mBOO-lah!", sort of, though the m isn't really an m; I've forgotten the linguistic term for it. Lips presses together, an under-the-breath sort of humming sound for a brief instant before you bark out the first syllable. Where has my knowledge of linguistics gone?

Literally, it means 'health'. But it seems to be an aggressive demand for your health. It's not just said, it's barked, or shouted, or exclaimed. It's a loud, emphatic greeting. Sometimes it's repeated -- "mBOO-lah-mBOOO-LAH!, wich seems to mean "even more health" or in effect, even more hello than before.

It's taking me a little time to get used to this. I tend to nod or greet people with a minimal 'hey' or an under-the-breath 'hello'. So this shouted greeting is hard for me to get used to. It's incredibly welcoming though.

Jean Michel Cousteau Resort, Vanua Levu, Fiji Islands

So first, I'm a little out of it today. That first, and then I'll cover diving.

The usual traveler's complaint. Let's not talk about it.

On the other hand, last night it started with a fever, and the fever brought with it a delightful dream featuring my dear friend Andie. And that was some good kissing, I tell you. Normally fever means nightmares for me, so this was a happy change. VERY happy.

Jean Michel Cousteau Resort, Vanua Levu, Fiji Islands

Um. I'm not sure what day this is anymore. Saturday, I think.

Fever gone. I was going to dive but was still faintly dizzy so opted to go into town with the family instead.

Savu-Savu. What you might call you basic third-world town, and a fairly nice one at that. No obvious signs of squalor and poverty, pretty clean, pretty well maintained. My gut tells me that if you come back here in ten years this will look like Poipu on Kauai. Resorts and houses are getting built here, and money will be following them into town, and soon there will be tourist boutiques and then starbucks will follow. Now, though, it's a mixture of Fijians and Indo-Fijians, and a the business are all a mixture of general store and tourist boutique.

We started at a very cool farmer's market; obviously market day, the ship had just come in with fresh stuff from off-island plus the local produce. Then we went shopping up and down the street, stopping for water and sundries.

My kids were deeply lost.

Jean Michel Cousteau Resort, Vanua Levu, Fiji Islands

What a difference a day makes, as they say.

Yesterday's gloom is behind me. Which is funny given the weather.

It rained all night last night. If I could have a world I designed, it would rain all night every night so I could smell the rain smell and listen to the rain on tropical foliage, and then the sun would come up in the morning, every morning. I think PJ Farmer's 'Riverworld' worked this way and I would be pretty damned happy if this place was just like that every day.

The sun didn't come up this morning, or rather it did but it was hiding behind a high overcast. But this place is so beautiful it doesn't matter, it just provides a dove-gray background instead of crystal blue, and makes for a world of muted greens and floral colors instead of brilliant ones.

Jean Michel Cousteau Resort, Vanua Levu, Fiji Islands

So it's nice to see a guy can get arrested in this town.

Ok that's an over-statement. Not arrested. But in an incredibly low-key way, hassled by The Man.

Jean Michel Cousteau Resort, Vanua Levu, Fiji Islands

Shout, push, hammerheads

Yes, yes, hammerheads

     --Shriekback, Hammerheads

I can't seem to sleep past five am here, but that's ok. It means I crash hard and early. And getting up early when no one's up but me, the staff, and the resort cat is pretty cool.

It was still raining when I got up, though the weather's gotten nicer since. I made my like-I-like-my-women French press coffee and sat in peace for half an hour and drank and enjoyed the rain easing off and the sky starting to clear.

Jean Michel Cousteau Resort, Vanua Levu, Fiji Islands

I'm in too deep

I've opened up my eyes now

'Cause now I understand how

It's easy when the fear is real with the fear

I cannot sleep

Walking in a dreamland

Wishing I could feel shame

'Cause there's nobody else to blame nobody else

     --Mathew Sweet, In Too Deep

Imagine a sudden wave of disorientation. Faint numbness in the ears, face, the extremities.

You suddenly lose a significant portion of your judgment, your ability to reason. Your IQ, in effect, drops many points.

You're dizzy. You're confused.

Now imagine you're deep underwater. You're in a dangerous situation. Water is a hostile environment; it will kill you.

You're supposed to be paying attention. You're supposed to be careful. You're supposed to be serious.

And you're high as a fucking kite and you're grinning like a fool. You have a wicked buzz on and you're no longer quite sure how to do the things you need to do to survive and be safe.

This is Nitrogen Narcosis.

'Rapture of the Deep' they used to call it.

I like it.

Allow me a moment to be an utter pig.

I think women in wet-suits are completely hot. I don't have any idea why. But it so works for me.

But it's not just that.

I like the kava.

It tastes a little like wood and a little like dirt. It's an earthy, bitter flavor, with a peppery edge.

Yes it numbs the tongue.

Yes I got a very very slight buzz. Not as good as being narced, but better than near beer.

This is where it starts to blur.

I lose track of which dives I've done, what I saw on which dive, who I was with, what else I did.

I know my gear hasn't been dry. I know I have that salty feeling that doesn't go away with one shower. And I know I'm tired.

In other words, I feel pretty damned good.

Let's see if I can re-create some of it.

Somehow after writing about nitrogen narcosis and women in neoprene, I've completely lost the will to blog.

Near as I can tell, I actually got completely on vacation a couple days ago and stopped knowing what day it was, what time it was, stopped caring what was happening later. All I really cared about was when I needed to be on the dive boat and if it was late enough in the afternoon to get a cocktail, and if I had time before dinner for a nap in the hammock.

I've been mostly wearing a fijian sulu for several days now.

I'm thinking how I should not come home.

Ok. So I need to write about what's happened the last few days before it slips away.

Concentrate now. Concentrate.

Ah. Nevermind. The bar makes a damn good margarita with kafir limes. And it's huge. Ok, it's $15 fijian, but that looks like play money so who cares.

Or maybe the band are playing which means I can go drink kava with them. Mmmm. Kava...

So I managed to set some sort of record for the most trips out to Namena.

Three in one trip.

I dunno why. It's not a hard run or a long day. Hour out. maybe a little more back. Only a little choppy, not serious stuff if you've been out in Monterey or on Kauai. Nothing, or so they tell me, like the Niihau trip from Kauai.

Still.

Of the three, this was the best. This was good. Best diving of the whole trip.

This is about a short day I don't recall and a long, long day I remember too well.

Saturday first. Last dives. Then we'll talk about Sunday.

It was a great trip.

My kids had an incredibly good time. They got along, they traveled well. They were independent and easy going.

No one fought. No one got seriously sick. No one got hurt.

The weather was fine, if varied and dramatic.

Fiji is stunning, the people are great and the resort was spectacular.

There were minor issues. Eco-friendly means mosquito-friendly. We're all still covered in bites. The bar could have been better, and while the food was great, I get tired of not being able to cook.

I didn't post many pictures. Don't worry I'll add more later. Lots more.

The diving. Let's see.

The diving was very, very good. Possibly a little less great than I'd expected, but diving's like that. Like fishing; you should have been here yesterday. The weather, the time of year, who you're with, how you feel that day, what happened to swim by; it all changes things. I don't think I've seen Fiji's very best diving yet; would I go back again? In a second.

I don't want to be home. And I'm already planning for my next trip. So many choices, so many choices...