I lollop through the trees in no particular direction and my swaying light picks up a pair of feet, which I am delighted to find are connected to a man who smiles as I raise the lantern. “Mister, your burre is that way, just follow the path.” I grin and look down to see that, yes indeed, I am back on the path, but when I raise the lantern again, he is gone. But that’s okay. It’s all good. Where was I again?
I blame the drugs. After a day of diving on Fiji’s Great Astrolabe Reef, I returned to Matava resort to find a party getting started. Fijians love to sing, and their soaring melodies were audible from my hilltop burre as I stood under the shower, washing salt residue from my skin. Fortuitously, I joined the party just as the kava ceremony was about to begin. A pale-brown drink created from the roots of the pepper plant Piper methysicum , kava is central to Fijian village culture, and though it looks and tastes like bitter dishwater, it is regarded with reverence. I made a point of joining in with especial gusto; concerned that tourists are fobbed off with kava-lite, I wanted them to let me have a crack at the special reserve.
Even when brewed to optimum potency, the effects of kava can be subtle. You only really appreciate its insidiousness once it has fully taken hold. You find yourself sloppily acquiescent, incredibly well disposed to everything and everyone around you. So, having got lost on the way back to my hilltop burre that night, I really wasn’t that bothered. When I finally found it, I tried reading for a while. But in kavaland, my airport thriller wasn’t really thrilling — just a bit daft. I switched off the torch and pulled the mosquito net down, though if any of the little fellows wanted to help themselves to my blood, they could fill their boots for all I cared.
But you don’t have to take drugs to expand your consciousness in Fiji. While the land has a verdant appeal for cyclists and hikers who like to pummel their way through paradise, I found the underwater scene far more intoxicating. Fiji’s reefs are famed for their colour and diversity, so I embarked on a long journey across the country to find the finest underwater vistas. Matava was the end of the line, a remote outpost on Kadavu island. Accessible only by boat, it’s one of Fiji’s more basic ecoresorts, but it weaves a special magic. Guests are treated informally, but with genuine warmth, so you feel part of a slightly loopy but very welcoming family.
One of my favourite family members was Joe, the dive guide, a typical Fijian alpha male with unparalleled experience of diving on the Great Astrolabe. As with many Fijians, generations living on a diet of cassava and fish had given him the rugby-player’s physique typical of the nation. Yet underwater he was surprisingly nimble. During one dive, a banded sea snake swam right at him, and he performed a dainty last minute pirouette to get out of its way. Sea snakes are common enough in Fiji, but their persistent curiosity can be unnerving, especially if you know how poisonous they are. I am told that their fangs are tiny and set far back in their small mouths, rendering them incapable of biting divers. Still, if a snake wants to be where you are, you get out of its way, even if you are a tough dive guide.
Fiji is the soft-coral capital of the world, and soft corals mean colour. Most of the corals people see when snorkelling in shallow areas are hard or stony; they live by secreting a limestone skeleton, while the delicate polyp of the animal usually only extends to feed at night. If you venture a little deeper (in Fiji, to about 30ft and below), you will find soft corals that grow in tree-like clumps, up to almost seven feet. When a soft coral detects current, it inflates itself by absorbing water and feeds by capturing passing plankton.
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Together with the equally spectacular gorgonian fan corals, soft corals are the most beautiful of the reef invertebrates. Fiji’s are blues and yellows and the deepest of reds, though you need to use a torch to appreciate their beauty fully, as seawater filters out the sunlight and reds are the first of the spectrum to be affected. So, aim a dive light at a clump of brown Dendronephthya coral and it comes to life, each tentacle iridescent with colour. These corals are hosts to animals such as feather stars, brittle stars and tiny cowrie shells — only the dive guides could spot those. Most beautiful of all, I found a hawkfish perched in a coral tree — a tiny king in a living throne.
Fan corals and soft corals can be found throughout tropical and even temperate oceans, but in most places tend to be sparse. But in Fiji, they grow in jungles. Great swathes of reef can be covered with the stuff, then you turn a corner and the whole character of the reef changes again, with rock-hugging leather corals, or an array of jagged Acropora corals. The depth and movement of the water dictate the way coral develops, and the Great Astrolabe has as wide a diversity of coral as I have ever seen. In my experience, only Papua New Guinea and parts of Indonesia can compare for colour and range.
The best way to enjoy a reef is on a drift dive, in which the moving water carries you over a backdrop of coral and fish. The trick is to find a current to carry you horizontally without pulling you down — though such “down-currents” are rare. On the Great Astrolabe, I encountered something stranger still: an up-current. I was drifting along a coral wall 55ft down when I hit an eddy, pitching me towards the surface. Like any diver, I like to look elegant in the water, but for a few minutes I must have looked like a Thunderbirds character with several vital strings missing. I thrust hard with my fins while the water cupped me in invisible hands, refusing to let me progress without a spot of mild humiliation. It was like those “running but getting nowhere” dreams that have us reaching for the Freud paperbacks. Coming so soon after my evening as a kava casualty, my Fiji experience had taken on distinctly mind-bending themes.
Still, there was always the serenity of Matava to bring me back to earth. I relished falling asleep and waking to the distant roar of waves on the outer reef. Most of all, I enjoyed the sense of unity between the staff, the guests and even the owners’ pet dogs, who adopted me as part of their pack, escorting me on forest walks to the nearby village. Strange, when resorts entice us with the promise of exclusivity, massages and cocktails, that I should warm so much to a place where you join the other guests at a long table and drink muddy-coloured pepper water until you find yourself grinning like an idiot, realising that you are enjoying one of life’s simplest pleasures, the company of friends.
Simon Rogerson travelled as a guest of the Fiji Visitor’s Bureau and Dive Worldwide
Travel details: Dive Worldwide (0845 130 6980, www.diveworldwide.com) offers 10 nights at Matava, including flights with Air New Zealand, via Auckland, transfers, full-board accommodation (not alcohol), and 10 dives, from £1,599pp.
Also try Scuba Safaris (01342 851196, www.scuba-safaris.com). For more information on Matava resort, visit www.matava.com, and for general information, contact the Fiji Visitor’s Bureau (0800 652 2158, www.bulafiji.com).
Coral kingdoms
The cheapest and closest coral destination to the UK is the Egyptian Red Sea. The established resort towns of the north, Hurghada and Sharm el Sheikh, both have access to good reefs. For the best coral, visit the offshore reefs of the Fury Shoal in Egypt’s less-developed “deep south”. My favourite site here is a series of shallow coral caves known as Sha’ab Claude, where shafts of light cut through openings in the roof, turning the caves into coral cathedrals. Regaldive (0870 220 1777, www.regaldive.co.uk) has seven nights at the luxurious Lahami Bay, the southernmost beach resort in Egypt, for £669pp (based on two sharing), including flights from Gatwick, transfers and half-board accommodation. Five days’ boat diving costs an extra £205.
Papua New Guinea’s reefs are equal to those of Fiji, with the added bonus of some second world war shipwrecks, both American and Japanese. Fish and coral life is among the most profuse you will find anywhere at Kimbe Bay, on the island of New Britain, where golden gorgonian fans thrive in the current. Scuba Safaris (01342 851196, www.scuba-safaris.com) has seven nights, full-board, at the highly regarded Walindi Plantation Resort in Kimbe Bay from £1,694 for a standard room, or upgrade to a beachfront bungalow for an extra £149. Flights are with Singapore Airlines and Air Niugini and transfers are included.
The Caribbean island of Saba is renowned for its coral pinnacles, which are the remnants of extinct volcanoes. Fed by the currents, corals and sponges grow to giant size here, creating a rich environment that attracts schools of fish. Dive Worldwide (0845 130 6980, www.diveworldwide.com) offers seven nights at Saba’s laid-back Cottage Club from £1,130, including flights from Gatwick and a package of 10 dives.
