"How to catch a fruit bat." Whitewater Rafting

Our 4-wheel drive bus

Today Beth and I departed at 6:45 for our whitewater rafting trip. We took a short ride to a nearby hotel called The Pearl where the offices for Rivers Fiji is located. After signing our lives away, we were given a wet bag to store anything we wanted to take on the rafting journey and rain jackets (despite the fact that it is already nearly 80 degrees and sunny) and we boarded our 4-wheel-drive bus. Apparently this bus is pretty special as it was imported from New Zealand and can handle taking large groups up and down the mountain terrain.

We stopped en route to pick up the rest of our group which consisted of American students who were studying in Australia for the semester and here for vacation, a couple from California, a small family from Arizona, a older man from Australia "Vern" (his wife opted to have a spa day), another older couple with their friends...not sure where from...I think Montana? And a few newlywed couples who I didn't have much of a chance to talk with, but I noticed one was proudly wearing his Obama shirt. We would be rafting when the president elect would be announced in the US. (We are a day ahead in Fiji...)

We have seen more Americans in the Pacific Harbour area of Fiji than anywhere else. This is surprising as it is on the complete opposite side of the island away from all the more touristed areas. Then again, this is now being marketed as the adventure capital of Fiji so I guess it makes sense. Americans love that adrenaline rush!

The ride to the rafting was CRAZY. There were dirt roads that wind up the mountain through thick rainforest and come precariously close to toppling us over into deep jungle ravines below. I can't even see the bottom of some of these steep drop-offs. I casually asked Moses...our guide..."Has a bus ever fallen over?" "No. But trucks do on occasion." he replied matter-of-factly. That was enough for me. Beth sat next to me listening to my little squeals and laughing at me. Repeatedly she asked, "Why are you looking out the window? Stop!" I wanted so bad to get a photo to show how insane it was...but when those moments came I was too busy holding on for dear life. At one point, we stopped to take in the view and it was amazing. Jungle, ravines, and lush green hillsides were the perfect framework for the turquoise blue waters of the south pacific beyond. I took a photo, but of course it did not do it nearly enough justice. So take my word - it was stunning.

Along the bumpy winding way we learned that the jungle is inhabited by wild boar and that they are very dangerous. The local villagers (Moses is among them) hunt wild boar and he said that you must be a very fast runner and know how to climb trees. If they go out hunting with dogs...they almost always return with fewer than they left with. You cannot become too attached to your hunting (canine) companions as they are often the victims of the boars wrath.

Our twisted steep hiking path to the river.

After a crazy jungle hike where Beth lead the way slaying cobwebs we arrived at our put in point and learned that Moses would be our rafting guide, too. (Beth and I were happy as he is clearly the most experienced of the guides and he was funny.) We set off on our adventure enjoying the warm waters, gorgeous views and sun on our backs. (Little did we know then what a day it would turn out to be!)

We plunged through rapids that ran through deep ravines...layers of lava and clay were visible in the rock face...and the water had carved its way through the rock leaving unusual formations in its wake. It was amazing. You could see the jungle WAY up above us. An occasional tarzan vine hung down to touch the churning waters below. Sparkling waterfalls seemed to appear all around us falling from great heights. They were so beautiful. The other rafts lost paddlers on some of the rapids, but we did great all staying in the boat and no injuries.

Moses told us amazing stories all the way down the river, but my favorite by far was about his village and how they hunt fruit bat. All of the villages eat different things. Some eat horse, others fish, some dog...but his village ate mongoose, wild boar and fruit bat. Fruit bats are attracted to the guava tree, so the hunter finds one before dusk...takes a guava and smears it all over his body to hide his scent. Then he crouches down beneath the tree and waits. By nightfall, the bats come to feed on the fruit. When he is ready, the hunter shakes the tree and the fruit bat fall to the ground. They can not fly from the ground, but must climb back up the tree to take-off. It takes about 10 minutes for them to make the climb, enough time for the hunter to scoop as many as he can into his waiting bag. I asked Moses..."What does fruit bat taste like?" Without hesitation, he said, "chicken." :)

After the more intense rapids were over, we hit a smooth stretch where we all fell out of the boats and floated downriver on our backs. The current was strong and you just had to lay back to be taken rather quickly downstream. The towering chasms on either side made it such a dramatic and unforgettable experience. The water was fresh and sweet smelling...the sun that filtered through the jungle above was warm on your face.

After lunch, we stopped at a huge waterfall for photos. It was beautiful and STRONG! I could barely stand beneath it. As the group took turns taking photos...the sky grew dark and the first roll of thunder shook the ground. A storm was upon us all of a sudden. We got back into our boats and began to paddle. This is when the adventure REALLY began.

With nothing around us for miles...not even a village...our only option was to paddle downstream. The thunder rolled, the rain kicked on like someone switched on a shower and then everything just went crazy. The wind started picking up...blowing colder and colder...trees started falling down all around us and lighting lit up the sky. We were in the heart of the storm and we paddled as best we could against the winds. Then...all of a sudden the storm intensified. The sound of the wind was frightening and the rain turned into HAIL.

The guides started screaming, "Ice! "Ice!" as they had never seen hail before in Fiji. We told them it was hail but the look on their stunned faces showed that the word held no meaning. They were ping pong size pellets...hitting us from every angle. Some of the boats turned around to avoid getting hit directly in the face. I could barely see. The guide yelled for us to stop paddling to conserve our energy and I yelled back "NO! I have kids!" Honestly...I was scared. Everyone was...even the guides seemed confused as to what we should do. All I could think about were my three boys at the hotel....hoping they were safe and that I would make it back.

We decided to push ahead and just as we saw the trucks on the shore at our pick-up point, the winds quieted and the hail tapered to a steady rain. Then...it was over. The sun came out and it was in the 80's once again. Totally bizarre. (Of course, as we unpacked our wet bag we found our rain jackets at the bottom, completely forgotten.)

Back at the hotel, I shared my story and the bartender said that he had heard on the radio that "ice fell from the sky". Can you imagine? It was such a dramatic day from beginning to end. Kevin wasn't too impressed with our story...even when Beth showed him the bruises on her legs from the ice pelting us. He was still proud that he had survived his day alone in the villa with the boys. But it was a rafting trip - and a day - I won't soon forget!

We're alive!! Beth and I with Moses, our rafting guide.