Cyclone in Paradise

After 24 hours of travel, 3 connecting flights, layovers, airports and bus rides, we were on a boat bound for one of the 300+ isolated islands that make up Fiji.
The catamaran pitched and lurched through the swells. Rain poured down in sheets and rouge waves crashed up against the side of the boat drenching even the people on the top decks. Gripping onto the cool steel railing with both hands, we delivered our airplane omelettes to the South Pacific. This was not really the scene we had imagined when we scheduled a 4 day stopover in Fiji on our way down to New Zealand, but I guess that’s the chance you take when you travel in cyclone season. We had arrived in Fiji on the coat tails of ‘Cyclone Gene’.

We finally disembarked on Waya Island looking as if we had just spent 24 hours in salt water washing machine and thoroughly relieved that we had decided on a private bure (thatched roof hut) instead of camping.

Funny to think that I thought the security checks would be the most rigorous part of our journey!No one questioned, or even took a second look at my large bag of medical supplies. The pump always evokes a reaction...”Excuse me mamme, we said to remove all electronic...” but as soon as I say “it’s an insulin pump” they back right down and wave me through. A few things about pumping in Fiji...
The resort we were staying provided a Tropical High Carb diet, one meal included ¾ cup of rice, a pappadum, 2 flatbread/naans and a curry that was largely potato based. This diet, combined with lazing around on my butt for 4 days, resulted in slightly higher blood sugars than normal.
I was thrilled to see that there was a fridge! I brought my insulin to the bar in the main dining building. “Bula, no problem for fridge” I was told by the toothless bar tender. Next we began drying out our possessions that had been swamped on the catamaran. Luckily, I had put all of my medical supplies in plastic bags; however, my Frio pouches had actually inflated themselves from all of the water they had come in contact with. As for everything else we owned, it stayed soggy all week. At lunch on our last day, I returned to the bar and asked the bar tender to retrieve my insulin. “Bula, no problem”. As the bag exchanged hands, I was taken aback by the luke warm temperature of the Ziploc in my grip. Not even the slightest bit cool, let alone cold. Fridge, no problem. Refrigeration, non-existent.

Although the weather was less than ideal, we did have an opportunity to do some high-quality storm watching. I was thinking I would make a brochure for them to highlight the best of the season, as there seems to be a niche there.

The weather didn’t stop us from hiking and snorkelling on an off-shore reef with ‘friendly reef sharks”. I was slightly distracted as we prepared to jump off the small tin boat into the sea...at least 20min boat ride in any direction to reach land. I took off my pump, put it in a water proof box and fell backwards into the water. Next thing I knew, I looked up and the tin boat, my pump and my emergency sugar supply was speeding away. Diabetes panic struck. Then shark panic struck...sharks can sense fear, right? AHHHH. Calm down, everything will be fine. And it was.Luckily, the boat was just heading to anchor off the edge of the reef, only a 10min swim away. Phew. A clear reminder of how important it is to be organized, prepared and to ask questions like “will this boat be staying with is in the middle of the ocean, 5 kilometres from the nearest island as we frolic with supposedly friendly sharks?”. No? Ah, then I will tuck a fruit leather in my bathing suit then.

All in all, Fiji was spectacular in a wet, warm and windy kind of way. We landed in Christchurch and stepped off the plane and into bright sunshine.