Well…Charlie’s gone.
On my Fijian birthday we decided to go out to our beach again. It was a gorgeous day, perfect for a drive and a swim in the ocean, and of course we brought along Charlie. On our way through town we noticed Steve and Iretta’s truck at the Copra Shed and Tara suggested we stop in for a moment. Not sure if we could bring in Charlie, Tara held him and waited outside and I went in and found them. They asked where Tara was and I explained she was outside with Charlie. Iretta’s eyes lit up and she introduced me to a man next to them named Geoff and said he was interested in meeting Charlie. In fact no more than two minutes before we arrived she was explaining to Geoff about Charlie and how we were looking for a home for him. Iretta was sympathetic to our cause and had been acting as a promotional agent for us to anyone they knew fit to take care of Charlie.
Geoff said to bring him in (Geoff has a little pull at the Copra Shed) so I went out and got Tara and she handed Charlie to Geoff. They hit it off immediately. Charlie was at his best performance, standing proudly, licking not biting, not peeing at anyone’s feet and happily running about the Copra Shed greeting everyone as if he owned the place. He was the perfect puppy and Geoff fell for him immediately.
He told us he’d take Charlie on the spot. It came as a shock and we had no reply and our faces must have sunk for sure because he paused and then offered that he could wait to take Charlie in until we had to leave Fiji. But we apprehensively said that he should take him right away and he was more than happy to do so.
Then Geoff’s daughter came in and you could practically see the moment her heart melted when she saw Charlie. She whisked him up in her arms and we never saw her put him down. Charlie already had a new home for about 15 minutes and Tara was still talking him up.
Steve laughed and said, 'You don’t have to sell him anymore Tara, they’re taking him.'
So now Charlie is living with a Aussie/Fijian family in a beautiful home on a large property out on the Hibiscus Highway. And, besides the adoring family that adopted him, he now lives with the company of two other dogs, whom we’re sure he is overjoyed at harassing all day long.
Our time at the beach was cut short the day we let Charlie go. After about two hours a huge rainstorm rolled in and it was time for us to return. Getting home we immediately had to start cleaning up Charlie’s favourite chew toys (my socks) and clean and put away his food and water bowls. The whole time Tara and I are talking about how much we missed him and how things wouldn’t be the same, choking back tears. The one thing we couldn’t do was put away the basket and towel he used as a bed. Just a couple of pathetic mopers, on my birthday no less.
Anyhow, despite being such a bitter/sweet pill to swallow, we know it’s all for the best.
The next day, New years Eve here, Eugene’s father Stephen pulled in the drive and invited me out fishing with him and some friends. I quickly changed and jumped in the car and we were off. I met his friends Teddy and Rowland, two Fijian men who were not only two of the nicest people I’ve met so far, but also two of the funniest. Once we were out in the boat there was a great deal of Guy Humour being bantered about that kept me in stitches. Stephen deemed me the Navigator and put me in charge of the depth-finder. For the first few minutes I was having no more luck that Stephen had with the contraption. I was beginning to relate to why it made him ‘cranky’. In the middle of Savusavu Bay where it’s easily 300 feet deep we were getting readings of 5 feet. And then something occurred to me and Teddy at the same time.
I asked Stephen, ‘Where is the sonar bolted to the boat?’
Stephen said at the back. Teddy leaned over and found it…discovering that instead of pointing down into the depths of the ocean it was pointing directly out behind the boat. We all had a good laugh over that one…
In Fiji the men fish like men. No need for rods or reels. Just a large spool of thick fishing line, a hook with a healthy chunk of bait on it weighed down with a piece of rusting steel rod. Extremely old school. We had lunch out on the water, curried rice and bread that we ate with our hands. No matter the size of fish you catch, you’re hauling it in hand over hand, pulling on that line. Not that we had to worry about that, we didn’t catch a single fish that day, despite being on the water for over six hours. The depth-finder was registering loads of fish beneath us but nothing would feed. It just wasn’t our day. But we did get the depth-finder figured out and I schooled Stephen on it and he was happy about that.
When we got back Lilly picked us up at the marina and invited Tara and I to New Years Eve barbeque at their home. When Tara and I arrived Eugene was cooking…again. It seems that Eugene is always cooking. He had an old school barbeque fired up. It was a large cast iron skillet with open wood embers burning below it set on a metal stand. He was cooking about a zillion slim lamb steaks, salted to perfection, along with sausages. There was salad and cooked okra, taro and rice and then finally a peach cobbler dessert.
We rolled home and brought in the New Year, yelling it out over Savusavu Bay. There were no fireworks but Mother Nature entertained us with a brilliant lightning display for about twenty minutes after midnight, as if on queue. Once the sky cleared again we admired the stars, brilliant against the black sky, like tiny holes in heaven’s floor.
Tara and I want to wish you a Happy New Year and we feel Neil Gaiman says it best:
‘May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you’re wonderful. And don’t forget to make some art – write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself.’
On my Fijian birthday we decided to go out to our beach again. It was a gorgeous day, perfect for a drive and a swim in the ocean, and of course we brought along Charlie. On our way through town we noticed Steve and Iretta’s truck at the Copra Shed and Tara suggested we stop in for a moment. Not sure if we could bring in Charlie, Tara held him and waited outside and I went in and found them. They asked where Tara was and I explained she was outside with Charlie. Iretta’s eyes lit up and she introduced me to a man next to them named Geoff and said he was interested in meeting Charlie. In fact no more than two minutes before we arrived she was explaining to Geoff about Charlie and how we were looking for a home for him. Iretta was sympathetic to our cause and had been acting as a promotional agent for us to anyone they knew fit to take care of Charlie.
Geoff said to bring him in (Geoff has a little pull at the Copra Shed) so I went out and got Tara and she handed Charlie to Geoff. They hit it off immediately. Charlie was at his best performance, standing proudly, licking not biting, not peeing at anyone’s feet and happily running about the Copra Shed greeting everyone as if he owned the place. He was the perfect puppy and Geoff fell for him immediately.
He told us he’d take Charlie on the spot. It came as a shock and we had no reply and our faces must have sunk for sure because he paused and then offered that he could wait to take Charlie in until we had to leave Fiji. But we apprehensively said that he should take him right away and he was more than happy to do so.
Then Geoff’s daughter came in and you could practically see the moment her heart melted when she saw Charlie. She whisked him up in her arms and we never saw her put him down. Charlie already had a new home for about 15 minutes and Tara was still talking him up.
Steve laughed and said, 'You don’t have to sell him anymore Tara, they’re taking him.'
So now Charlie is living with a Aussie/Fijian family in a beautiful home on a large property out on the Hibiscus Highway. And, besides the adoring family that adopted him, he now lives with the company of two other dogs, whom we’re sure he is overjoyed at harassing all day long.
Our time at the beach was cut short the day we let Charlie go. After about two hours a huge rainstorm rolled in and it was time for us to return. Getting home we immediately had to start cleaning up Charlie’s favourite chew toys (my socks) and clean and put away his food and water bowls. The whole time Tara and I are talking about how much we missed him and how things wouldn’t be the same, choking back tears. The one thing we couldn’t do was put away the basket and towel he used as a bed. Just a couple of pathetic mopers, on my birthday no less.
Anyhow, despite being such a bitter/sweet pill to swallow, we know it’s all for the best.
The next day, New years Eve here, Eugene’s father Stephen pulled in the drive and invited me out fishing with him and some friends. I quickly changed and jumped in the car and we were off. I met his friends Teddy and Rowland, two Fijian men who were not only two of the nicest people I’ve met so far, but also two of the funniest. Once we were out in the boat there was a great deal of Guy Humour being bantered about that kept me in stitches. Stephen deemed me the Navigator and put me in charge of the depth-finder. For the first few minutes I was having no more luck that Stephen had with the contraption. I was beginning to relate to why it made him ‘cranky’. In the middle of Savusavu Bay where it’s easily 300 feet deep we were getting readings of 5 feet. And then something occurred to me and Teddy at the same time.
I asked Stephen, ‘Where is the sonar bolted to the boat?’
Stephen said at the back. Teddy leaned over and found it…discovering that instead of pointing down into the depths of the ocean it was pointing directly out behind the boat. We all had a good laugh over that one…
In Fiji the men fish like men. No need for rods or reels. Just a large spool of thick fishing line, a hook with a healthy chunk of bait on it weighed down with a piece of rusting steel rod. Extremely old school. We had lunch out on the water, curried rice and bread that we ate with our hands. No matter the size of fish you catch, you’re hauling it in hand over hand, pulling on that line. Not that we had to worry about that, we didn’t catch a single fish that day, despite being on the water for over six hours. The depth-finder was registering loads of fish beneath us but nothing would feed. It just wasn’t our day. But we did get the depth-finder figured out and I schooled Stephen on it and he was happy about that.
When we got back Lilly picked us up at the marina and invited Tara and I to New Years Eve barbeque at their home. When Tara and I arrived Eugene was cooking…again. It seems that Eugene is always cooking. He had an old school barbeque fired up. It was a large cast iron skillet with open wood embers burning below it set on a metal stand. He was cooking about a zillion slim lamb steaks, salted to perfection, along with sausages. There was salad and cooked okra, taro and rice and then finally a peach cobbler dessert.
We rolled home and brought in the New Year, yelling it out over Savusavu Bay. There were no fireworks but Mother Nature entertained us with a brilliant lightning display for about twenty minutes after midnight, as if on queue. Once the sky cleared again we admired the stars, brilliant against the black sky, like tiny holes in heaven’s floor.
Tara and I want to wish you a Happy New Year and we feel Neil Gaiman says it best:
‘May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you’re wonderful. And don’t forget to make some art – write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself.’
