A view of Nacula
This adventure has two parts because it ultimately played out over two different mornings. But first, some requisite background information . . .
Beth and I spent about five days on Nacula, one of Fiji’s Yasawa Islands. These islands are volcanic in origin—as are most of the islands of Fiji—and interiors often have elevation: as in peaky style hills cloaked in savanna with sporadic enclaves of coconut palms inscribing the preferred drainage route. A listing of possible activities posted at Oarsman’s Bay Lodge, our accommodation while on Nacula, included a hike to the summit of Nacula. There was a path, and round trip, lodge to summit and back, was estimated at two hours. Fiji is tropical—synonymous with hot and humid—so I posited that we begin our hike at dawn, to take advantage of our coolest timeframe, and return in time for 8:00-ish breakfast.
Attempt to summit commenced as posited. We arose about six with the dawn breaking but before sunrise, and I dressed for a day advancing thus: hike, breakfast, beach. Although we had conferred with Philip and Oni, Nacula natives and lodge personnel, about the path to the summit after dinner the night before, Beth and I did not remain on a marked path—most of which never was actually the correct path, we later learned—much longer than five minutes. Largely unconcerned, because Oni assured us there was nothing dangerous out there (like SNAKES), because we could see the goal above and beyond, and because the goal appeared easily attainable, we ascended—frequently on the vertical, using the grass for hand and foot holds. Eventually, though, we trekked through saw grass (it definitely had an edge, one that grew sharper with increasing contact) ranging from knee-high to over-our-heads-high without ever reaching the true summit. We gave up and turned back an hour or so after we began, only to confront much more daunting challenges than already encountered: a steep descent over terrain rendered invisible due to the grass and then the expansive thicket of dense bush—sans path—separating the savanna from the beach. I now marvel at the range and practicality of functions possible for a machete! We finally reached Oarsman’s Bay Lodge again just before 9:00, sweaty, dirty, hungry, out of water, and grass-cut across our arms and legs.
.JPG)
That's me encompassed in saw grass!
Looking down toward Oarsman's Bay Lodge
Notice the dirt on Beth's hands and knees...and we hadn't even started the hardest part yet--the descent!
We walked down this slope sans path--trickier than it may look!
We pushed and shoved our way through this bush to the beach; it took us about an hour!
Still, I yearned to summit Nacula. Although we chose to sleep in the following morning, on our final morning in Nacula—after a brief reconnaissance of the several paths snaking in various directions from the lodge and into the bush and then an additional conference with Philip and Oni—we headed out again. This time we found the path and followed the path all the way to the summit and then a bit beyond to where we could look down onto Nacula Village.
Beth--on the path this time!
Looking down on Nacula Village.
After our second attempt, our successful attempt, to summit Nacula, Pi—another native of Nacula Village who worked at Oarsman’s—asked to see my photos of our hike. While she perused the photos on my camera’s screen, I asked her if she had ever climbed to the top. She said only once: for the last tsunami warning, all the women and children on the island were sent to the top while the men remained below.
Pi, me, and Oni
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
