We have lots to do before we leave Port Denarau to head for Musket Cove so the day starts early. I strip our bed and head for the laundry. Although I have my washing machine it’s just so much easier to do it all in the big top loader. Unfortunately, there’s only one machine and it’s being used.
Rather than going back to the boat, I go over to the spa again and see if they can fit me in for a bikini wax there and then. As it’s so early, I am in luck – or am I?
Discussing my options with the therapist, I turn down the offer of a Brazilian. I don’t want to look like a plucked chicken or a little girl, and I certainly don’t want a Hollywood. We settle on something in between. I have a quick shower and then hop onto the treatment table where I have an encounter with a beautician that would rival any I have had with a gynaecologist. It’s a good job that I’m not modest.
Anyway, all neat and tidy, I go back once more to the laundry, trying to ignore the rather uncomfortable feeling that the couple of no doubt tiny bits of remaining wax are giving me, and find that, once again the machine is in full swing and another guy has just arrived before me with two enormous loads of washing. However, he is a perfect gentleman and says that I can go first as I am leaving at lunchtime.
I hang around for a while until the machine finishes. No one turns up to empty it so I get a plastic bin bag from the office and empty it myself then dump my stuff in and go and do the last bits of food shopping. After that it’s back to the laundry to do the drying where I meet a lovely woman, Simone, from Australia whose husband is French but was born in Birkenhead. They had seen Jeannius and noted that she was registered in Liverpool, and having met me she says she will send her husband down to talk to Mike as you don’t meet many Liverpudlians going round the world.
I go and pick up the boots and slippers from the Ugg shop for myself and Jutta and when I come back I discover that Mike has bought what looks like the entire supply of pumpkin rotis from our little Indian lady. The fridge is full of them so we have some for lunch in order to clear some space.
Photo: Ugg slippers and a sarong – colour co-ordinated of course!
Mike goes to pay our marina and generator bills. The marina bill is amazing. Seven days dockage plus electricity and water (and my God we used a lot cleaning the boat) comes to about the same as one night in Nanny Cay in the BVIs, and we had all the facilities that Port Denarau offered. What a bargain. The generator repairs are obviously more than we had hoped but Mike is so pleased it is fixed that he doesn’t care.
Silvia and Simon arrive and shortly after we throw the lines off and leave the dock. It is only about ten miles to Musket Cove but the crossing is very lumpy and rather uncomfortable. We watch another catamaran behind us attempting to sail the course before its captain eventually gives in and motors just like we resort to doing.
Immediately we are into deep water we switch on the water maker. This hasn’t run for over six weeks and there is a chance that the filters will have clogged up (stuff starts to grow in them) but we are lucky, they haven’t. Mike tests the water immediately it comes out and although it is fine, he leaves it running to flush the system through before Silvia and I start to bottle it. Once the water making is complete, Mike empties out the holding tanks. Ugh. I hate using them but they are a necessary evil in a marina.
It’s quite a tricky passage through the numerous reefs and Mike constantly watches the chart plotter and the depth gauge to weave his way in, with Silvia, Simon and myself keeping a sharp lookout too. When we arrive in the tiny marina, there is hardly enough room to swing a cat, but Mike manages to swing a much larger cat than the proverbial one and slowly backs us in next to Tucanon while I lower the anchor to keep us in place at the bow. We put out the fenders and tie Jeannius stern to, the height of the dock making it really easy to step on and off the boat, unlike most of the harbours that we have been in so far, Port Denarau being the only other exception.
From first glance, Musket Cove looks like a lovely resort. There are long sandy beaches to both sides and all the facilities that you would expect – restaurants, bars, a couple of shops, a laundry and a spa. Nothing is as convenient as at Port Denarau and you have to cross sand to get to all of it as it is quite spread out, but it’s nice all the same. Most of the boats are already in and with their flag buntings out, they look quite the part. This image will be ruined, however, when we get our pathetic bunting out. Ah well.
Photo: The cats lined up in the shallower part of the marina
Photo: Most of the fleet are lined up
Noeluna come in on the other side of us. It’s so lovely to see Marie-Anne and Matthieu again. They have had a pretty constant stream of friends and family recently and have not been around much. Marie-Ann introduces me to her friend Jennifer from New York and her French husband, Olivier and we immediately get talking pearls! I am really disappointed that Noeluna are leaving the rally. They were always leaving in Australia, then it became Vanuatu and now they have decided to leave from here and head to New Caledonia where they will leave the boat and fly back to Singapore.
Silvia and Simon move their luggage to Sunrise, the boat that they sailed on all the way to Bora Bora. They are leaving the rally as Silvia has a job interview in Sydney next week and have really just come over to Musket Cove to say goodbye to everyone.
The rally is also losing Marie and Charles from Dreamcatcher. They have decided to go to New Zealand and tour around there for a couple of years before joining another rally again for the passage back. Lastly, Donal from A Lady, is leaving after six months crewing so there’s lots of change.
There is a welcome cocktail party on the beach in the early evening, offering everyone the chance to be bitten alive by the most voracious biting things (probably mosquitoes but could be sand flies or ants). Lots of people leave to go back to their boats and spray themselves copiously. Mike and I are already sprayed up to the eyeballs although I can feel the little buggers landing every now and then.
The free rum punch seems to be pretty free of alcohol and after two glasses, I can feel nothing. Then the wind picks up and as we head for the barbecue, it starts to rain for the first time in weeks. The queue is horrendous and people keep pushing in. In Johanne fashion I point out the error of their ways but they pretend they can’t understand me and continue to push their way in. I won’t comment on which nationality they are!
Unfortunately the barbecue is the worst one I have ever eaten. We manage just about to get seats under cover in order to dissect what we are about to eat but end up eating very little of it. The quality of the meat is poor and it is over cooked and over salted. Never mind. Tomorrow night’s is free, courtesy of the WCC.
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