CCONDESAA LIFE UNDER SAIL

THE CONDESA ARCHIVE

Condesa Chronicles




Update 1 | Update 2


Update 3 | Update 4

Update 6 | Update 7


Update 8 | Update 9


Update 9 - Monday November 6, 2000



Bula,



Having a great time in Fiji! I assume last night's

events made the news in the US?




We have been in Suva, Fiji for over a week. We came

here directly from Tonga for repairs and as usual with

repairs, they were more involved and took longer than

anticipated. Coup living was mellow and enjoyable up

until last night. We shopped, ate out and went to the

movies. The only evidence of the recent coups were

checkpoints on the highways, manned by men who all

look curiously like Sadaam Hussein with their

mustaches and berets, and a midnight curfew.



Yesterday things took a turn. We heard over the radio

that rebels had attacked the Queen Elizabeth Barracks

in Nambura. We didn=A1=A6t really know what this meant

and went on with our day. I asked a few shopkeepers

if we should be worried and they said no. I indicated

that I thought that Nambura was way over there on the

other side of the island, to which people waved and

replied =A1=A5yeah, way over there.=A1=A6 I had it confused

with another town. Nambura is actually a neighborhood

in Suva just two miles away.



As we were eating lunch everyone, especially ethnic

Indians, started looking very worried. We were dining

in a Hare Krishna restaurant. The proprietors, who

had welcomed us with =A1=A7Hare Krishna, welcome

friends!=A1=A8 were kind of indicating that we should get

the hell out fast so they could close. All businesses

were closing. As we started heading back and looking

for a cab there was low-grade hysteria in the streets.

Every bus filled. Forklifts were placing full-size

containers in the streets to protect shop windows and

the military sandbagged gun placements in the streets.



We returned to the yacht club to drink beer and listen

to the radio. The reports went something like this:

"One dead, seven wounded, the commodore escaped into

the bush and was picked up by his men. There is a new

curfew tonight at 6:00. Go home, protect your loved

ones and keep them off the street. Everything is

under control. There is nothing to fear. And by the

way, every military and reserve soldier in the region

report for duty immediately."



I went out to the boat to continue working. I was

glassing up the windvane when I heard an unmistakable

sound and turned the music down. Here is an excerpt

of a radio email I sent last night during the action:



So now I'm sitting on the boat just a few miles from

the action. I'll give you a play-by-play: Pause.

Short machine gun burst. Short machine gun burst.

Rifle fire. Grenade. Long machine gun burst.

Grenade. Grenade. Rifle fire. Big rocket. Big

explosion. Grenade. Short burst. Short burst. Blah

blah blah. Now that it's dark I can see the flashes

when the big stuff goes off. It's two miles away but

I'm still involuntarily ducking from time to time.



The firing went on for hours. Occasionally they would

send up a big flare that would hover over the city.

We sat on the boat drinking cocktails and singing

All We Are Saying Is Give Peace A Chance. There

was really nothing more we could do. The transmission

had been in the shop for several days, so there was no

way we could move the boat. All the other cruising

boats disappeared stealthily one by one. All the big

container ships were forced to leave the wharf to

prevent hijacking by the rebels, so they were all at

anchor in the outer harbor. Terms like =A1=A5sitting

duck=A1=A6 or =A1=A5lame duck=A1=A6 came up as we sat alone and

engineless with the rebels just over the hill. We

invented a new cocktail, the Suva Libre, as we

listened to David Bowie=A1=A6s Rebel Rebel and tried to

capture what we could on video.



An obnoxiously large and well-lit temple of that Salt

Lake City cult dominated the skyline between us and

the shelling. We kept hoping a stray shell would take

it out in a blaze of glory.



Later we noticed a darkened navy ship had anchored

near us; it=A1=A6s sailors crouched on the bow. It was

probably getting away from the dock where it might be

threatened by a land attack. We hoped it wouldn't

draw any fire.



The first time in my life that I heard shots fired in

anger was on a street in downtown Quito, Ecuador. A

policeman was chasing a thief down the main street and

cracked off a couple rounds a few feet away from me.

The sound was terrifying and like the thief he was

chasing, I was paralyzed with fear and would have

stopped immediately and given up had the shots been

fired at me. I was shaken up for hours and decided

that I definitely never wanted to get shot (duh). The

sounds of war are even more terrifying. Machine guns,

semi-automatic rifles and grenades sing a frightening

chorus. I definitely felt for the men who were in the

middle of it.



It is amazing that there were only 20 wounded and

eight dead this morning with the tens of thousands of

rounds, grenades and rockets fired.



The official story is that about 40 rebels attacked

the barracks and tried to kill or take the commanding

officers hostage. The main target escaped by running

through the bush. The barracks were later secured by

the interim government military.



We thought it would all be over the next morning. We

were to meet the transmission repair guy ashore at

8:30. When we arrived ashore things were a little

different. The entire country, businesses, roads,

everything, were closed under martial law and a

stay-inside curfew. Anyone roaming the streets might

be shot and armed soldiers combed the streets. A man

who was walking his dog, now stuck at the yacht club

for the day, had been threatened at gunpoint: "Get

off the streets or I'll shoot you."



We certainly wouldn=A1=A6t be able to check out of Suva

that day. The yacht club employees were still hanging

around from the night before, unable to go home during

the fighting. We wouldn=A1=A6t be able to connect with

the transmission guy. I called him and he suggested

that we stealthily cross the harbor in the dinghy

where he would meet us on a beach near his house. The

folks around the yacht club thought this was a very

dangerous idea.



Apparently the harbor was closed as well and the navy

was patrolling. The big pictured slowly catalyzed.

There were 20 rebels loose within two miles of us, all

looking for a means of escape. A boat and a hostage

or two would present a possible means. We were in

some danger, much more than when the fighting was

going on. They advised us to stay on the boat all

day.



This made for a boring day, the same kind of day

experienced by the whole island as everyone was stuck

inside.



I have been through many winds on my travels: The

northeast tradewinds, the southeast trades, maramus,

papagayos and corumels, but in Suva the most insidious

of winds was blowing during our curfew day, the

horrible Hot Dump Wind. Sadly, we are anchored just a

half a mile from the city dump of the largest city in

the south pacific islands. If we had a transmission,

we=A1=A6d move, but we don=A1=A6t. The Royal Suva Yacht Club

is about equidistant to the dump, so they get the

stench too when the wind blows the wrong way. On a

hot day like that, the smell is amazing and the

charming flies provide constant amusement.



Later we went in for showers and watched the recap on

the TV news with all the others who were marooned at

and around the yacht club.



It was all quite exciting and I can't say I was sorry

I was there to see it. Amazingly, we were the closest

to the fighting you could possibly be by sea.



At this point my stepmother Pat is not the least bit

impressed that her little Jimmy is with me for this

particular part of the ride. He's 20. He's ready

for his first insurrection.



Things should be back to normal. All that will really

be accomplished is that two days of commerce were lost

and Fiji=A1=A6s already dismal tourist occupancy rate

after the last coup will be further reduced.



Enough about it.



When I last wrote we were leaving Tonga. We checked

out but planned to make an illegal stop at the island

of Tofua in the far western reaches of the Tonga

islands. Tofua is an active volcano with a giant

freshwater lake in the middle. You can hike into the

crater and swim in the lake.



When we approached Tofua, dazzling and huge after an

overnight sail, we saw a promising surf break. We

anchored and caught a few waves over shallow coral

heads; probably never surfed before.



We rounded the west end of the island to see the

volcano spewing smoke with the island of Kao, the

highest island in Tonga, in the background. Anchoring

was sketchy since Tofua was perfectly round and drops

off into deep water on all sides. Notwithstanding, we

found a good spot for the night.



After a brief evening reconnaissance trip, Jim and I

would be the first landing party in the morning while

Jamie and Chris watched the boat. It was one of those

magical days filled with unbelievable views at every

turn.



We started our ascent through what is considered by

Dr. Art Whistler (yes, that THE Dr. Art Whistler) of

the University of Hawaii as the best virgin tropical

rainforest in the Pacific. At about sunrise we

emerged from the rainforest into volcanic scrub with

some tree ferns and made our way to the rim. It was

definitely one of the most spectacular views of my

life. Outside the rim was the vast Pacific with the

perfect cone of Kao just five miles distant. Inside

the rim the virgin rainforests covered the slopes

right up to where the ash and recent lava floes had

covered them. On one side of the crater was the

active cone, spewing a cloud of steam, smoke and ash

several thousand feet into the air. Below it was the

giant freshwater crater lake, about two miles in

diameter, glowing clear and green, about 900 feet

deep.



We made our way to the start of the volcanic soil and

descended to the active volcano. The rumblings and

quaking ground stopped us wideyed in our tracks a few

times as we neared. We occasionally gasped on the

sulfuric fumes, but made it up to the rim and stared

into the gaping maw, the heart of the earth. It was a

mix of fascination and fear. Peering into the volcano

we could see at least a thousand feet down when the

smoke cleared. We threw rocks but never heard them

hit bottom. The eruptions were irregular: For a few

minutes there would just be pressure-cooker gasps and

clouds of steam. Then there would be a rumble and

explosion. The ground would shake and a huge cloud

would soar above us. It was not a comfortable

feeling. We gave the volcano our best retort and

blasted our air horn into the depths. The echoes

eerily bounced around the chasm for five seconds or

so. If you were a primitive Tongan native you would

have had absolutely no doubt that this was God and you
would cast virgins into the abyss when the taro crop

went sour.



It was time for a swim. We picked what we thought was

our best line to lake. It was not. If at any time in

the rest of my mountaineering career something

requires the crossing of a lava field I will find

another way. It took us hours to cover less than a

mile. I would say that we have seen every possible

form that hot rock can take as it is thrust from the

bowels of the earth. Every step we took in the

razor-sharp lava was a dance of uncertainty. Every

rock crumbled under our feet causing us to lose

balance and stumble. You could never trust a step.

Our walking became a nonstop stagger. When you had to

reach down for balance you were greeted with a handful

of needlelike volcanic spikes. Later we both admitted

we were near our breaking points while walking through

the scalding heat of the lava field.



We never found our easy path to the lake. We finally

just had to charge our way through lava, scrub, tight

trees and a million spider webs to the water. Once we

were in it was surreal paradise. We were the only

people for many miles around, swimming in a huge,

cool, bottomless lake in a volcanic crater, surrounded

by rainforest on an island in the middle of the

Pacific while an active volcano belched a huge white

cloud just a half mile away.



Since the weather turned sour we had to wait two days

before we could safely land the second ascent team,

Jamie and Chris, for their day in the crater.



We had a three day passage to Fiji - blew out all the

headsails again. I guess I=A1=A6ve got to invest in new

sails in Australia.



We should be leaving Suva today and heading off to do

what we intended to do in Fiji; surf and island hop.



-Clark
Latest news Photos Weather map E-mail the loser designer of this site E-mail Clark!
Explore the archive ↗