Taba, the Iguana sanctuary

Lying next to Yadua is the little island of Yadua Taba. Though uninhabited it is the only home to a particular species of crested iguana (Brachylophus vitiensis), and thus lies under the protection of the National Trust of Fiji.
The National Trust Ranger looking after Taba was our main contact and friend in the village, Pita Biciloa, though another villager, Sepu, had recently become a ranger too. As Nawaisevu bay lay on the way from the village to Taba we would often be visited by both, and they were very much part of our camp.
Pita driving his boat, the Vokai Warrior:


We were lucky enough to visit Taba during our time there (setting foot on the island is controlled to protect the iguanas), some of us even twice! It was a very rugged island covered in a thick forest, whose cliffs and slopes soared up out of the sea. The only major fauna was the iguanas (goats had invaded the island at some point, but it was believed they had all been killed off (to protect the iguanas)), which to the untrained eye were pretty hard to spot, camouflaged high up in the canopy.
A sheltered valley on the little island:


Jone, from the National Trust, plucks an Iguana from the canopy to show us:


Around the island lay extensive reefs, with some deep walls and large fish, including many sharks. The first time I visited a few of us went snorkelling round these and got a bit spooked as a small group of black-tip reef sharks started showing a little too much interest.
The main beach on Taba:


Unfortunately we never had much time there, and together with Yadua itself I would have loved to have the chance to really explore.

The local brew

Alcohol was strictly banned in the village of Denimanu (though I think there was some contraband going around, and to escape prohibition we would occasionally get locals visiting our camp), so the local brew was instead kava (or also called yaqona).
This is a fijian obsession, and I have never seen it anywhere else (in fact I think it is illegal to import it to most countries), though I think it exists on other pacific islands. Back in history it was reserved only for the chief to drink on special occasions, but at some point that rule was relaxed and it's very popular with all fijian men (and a few women).
Kava is difficult to describe in a way that sounds appetising, but here goes. It is a plant grown in the southern parts of the Fiji islands (not on Yadua), and the root is the important part. This is dried and then crushed to a powder (in Denimanu this was done by placing it in an upright metal tube in the ground, and then pounding it with a long metal rod, making a distinctive bell-like sound that alerted anyone nearby to a fresh batch of kava being made up). Next the powder is mixed with water to produce the muddy-brown drink (the locals would wrap the powder in a cloth and effectively use this like a tea-bag in fresh water, squeezing it to mix).
Wrapping the kava powder in cloth:


Mixing the kava with water:


There is quite a lot of tradition in the way kava is produced and drunk, and it is a very symbolic part of the culture. Our chief (Ratu Joni) would always be given the first bowl from a newly mixed batch, before one by one everyone else was offered a drink. Unlike most social drinks you don't sip kava, when you are offered a bowl you clap once to accept, take the bowl (part of a coconut shell) in one hand and down it. Then you clap three times to say thanks, generally accompanied by a little round of applause from others present, while the kava kicks in.
Sepu drinking kava:


Honestly speaking it looks like muddy water, with bits of kava root floating in it, and tastes worse, a bitter, earthy flavour. The more and more kava you drink the less palatable it seems to become (though most of us never learned to turn down a bowl!), and each bowl is followed by a horrible, sticky, aftertaste (everyone has a "kava-face", the expression of distaste as this aftertaste kicks in). In fact experienced drinkers will often have sweets and lollipops on hand to combat this. The first thing you notice is the way the kava makes your mouth go numb, but if you put some effort in and drink a few more bowls over a reasonably short time, or manage to get served the dangerously large bowls that lurked around (makes you wonder how big the coconut was...), you start to get "kavaed".
The state of being kavaed is a bit weird. Your mind seems to get a bit slow and heavy, and you find yourself just sitting and staring at empty space. Most people feel a bit bloated, mostly due to the amount of liquid they've consumed, but it's not uncomfortable. The worst problem is that when drinking kava you spend the time sat down on the floor, so when you finally have to get up to go to the toilet it hits you. You suddenly realise how dizzy you are, and have to stumble off, I guess a bit like being drunk.
If you drink too much you can be physically sick, but I escaped this, even if on a few nights I got roped into consuming far too much. The next day however you are generally fine, if a little dazed and reluctant to start up drinking it straight away.
Kava seemed to be an addiction of the local men. Every night we were in the village they would be drinking in the village hall, and when a few of us came to pay our respects at a funeral we found the church full mostly of the village women and children, whilst the men were drinking kava!