The cyclone made it difficult to reach the island. After a brief attempt (huge waves, almost capsizing, etc), our boat captain and tribe leader agreed: the weather was too dangerous to attempt a crossing to the off-shore island of Vorovoro. Rain pissed down as if God was woken up after a night of binge drinking and had a bladder full of ambrosia. It was coming down so hard it literally hurt, kinda like when hail hits you, if you've ever been out in a hailstorm. I contented myself with the thought that this was the real tropics, fuck the touristy sunny beaches and pina colodas and snorkeling and all that old bullshit. This was the local flavor, the 0ff-the-beaten-trail reality: tropical cyclone in a small town, roads closed, sea unsailable.
We made home in a nice hotel room, and the boat captains Moreau and Johnny Mixed up a bowl of grog or two in a big tupper-ware container. At midnight, with the grog session peaking and everyone ready for bed (grog knocks you out if you have enough), water started slipping in under the back door. We opened the door and...there was the river! The river level had risen during the storm to the level of our hotel room. Weird shit. So we moved out real fast, and then started helping the hotel staff stacking beds and furniture up so they wouldn't be ruined by the flood. We slept in the board room and other makeshift rooms that night.
The next day, the weather abated slightly, and we decided to make a go for it. Eight of us and heaps of food and gear were packed into a tiny boat with an outboard motor, and on this ridiculous excuse for a ship, we set off down the Labassa river to make an attempt for the island. We took a side route and managed to escape the worst of the waves. After a rough ride, we arrived at the island. 
On the approach, it was beautiful: mangroves on one side, rocky cliffs, some sandy beach, and the capper: a beach waterfall, perfectly shower-sized. Mind-blowing. The first thing we noticed: trash everywhere. The cyclone had destroyed the island, damn near, and there was trash everywhere. Also, trash from the Labassa river flows out to the island (right in the path of the outflowing current), and since the local industries don't actually send their trash to a trashheap, but instead dump it in the river, well, there's lots of trash. So first thing after dumping our bags, me and Jerome spend an hours picking up trash, getting massive amounts of trash. Then we get settled in, laying our bags down in a sleeping hut with beds, called a vale.
On the approach, it was beautiful: mangroves on one side, rocky cliffs, some sandy beach, and the capper: a beach waterfall, perfectly shower-sized. Mind-blowing. The first thing we noticed: trash everywhere. The cyclone had destroyed the island, damn near, and there was trash everywhere. Also, trash from the Labassa river flows out to the island (right in the path of the outflowing current), and since the local industries don't actually send their trash to a trashheap, but instead dump it in the river, well, there's lots of trash. So first thing after dumping our bags, me and Jerome spend an hours picking up trash, getting massive amounts of trash. Then we get settled in, laying our bags down in a sleeping hut with beds, called a vale.The little village was amazing. On one side of the island is the chief's house and a few other houses for the villagers, and then there are a few houses for some of the permanent workers (Fijian and otherwise), then finally our section. We have a kitchen area, with wood-burning stove made of stones, there is a composting toilet, solar power, turbine power, a device that makes natural gas out of pig shit, extensive gardens and wild fruit growing, many hammocks, various huts and one huge structure called a bure, and an awesome bucket&valve shower device. Of course, I never once used that shower, always instead opting for the waterfall on the beach for my showers. Seriously. A waterfall on the beach, falling at the perfect rate for a shower, with a large flat boulder under it you can stand on. How awesome is that. I took like 3 showers a day.
The Fijians were amazingly nice. Being around them makes you smile and laugh more, because they are so welcoming and friendly. I felt like I was glowing from all the happiness, and even now, remembering, I'm smiling. I feel like we found Paradise, and a second home.
