In Fiji with a broken engine.
We are in the Fiji group.
To be more precise, on the main island of Viti Levu, even more precisely in the only real metropolis in the entire South Pacific: Suva!
That's how it was planned. We wanted to anchor here in the port of the 75,000-inhabitant city for 2 to 3 days, bunker provisions and fuel for the next 6 months, to explore Fiji's islands and then sail to Vanuatu and the Solomon Islands.
Well, how long should I explain: The engine threw a spanner in the works!
You can certainly imagine that the port of such a large, tropical city is not exactly idyllic.
Instead of palm trees and beaches, our gaze falls on rusty barges whose best days are long gone. We anchor in the dirty, oily broth of the industrial port and walk our heels in search of Boots mechanics, workshops and spare parts.
Our problem with the boat diesel is a very serious one this time and will probably tear a large hole of several thousand euros in the on-board cash box.
But what the heck, I knew all that beforehand:
Sailing is the most uncomfortable and expensive way to explore the world...but also the most beautiful!
I curse like a reed sparrow at the moment, but I know:
When this problem is solved again, the next lonely beach, the laughter of the people in the next small village, or the next delicious fish that we pull out of the water on a crossing will make up for all the hardships.
Nevertheless, I wanted to get rid of one thing spontaneously:
FUCKING FUCKING DIRT FUCKING FUCKING DIEWANDAN!