We continued to do much of the same at Naigani - snorkeling (Anna saw a shark and didn't jump straight out of the water), kayaking and reading. I was chatting to an Australian woman while she stood in the pool when I saw a large crab scuttling towards her feet. We fished it out with a net and it gave me the evil eye while it scuttled off to hid under some steps.
Thirty minutes later Alex and Anna found him back in the pool. Didn't he understand that chlorinated fresh water isn't good for him? We fished him out again. This time I got video of him racing to his hidey-hole. I didn't mean to take video. I thought I was taking photos. You can hear me being pleasantly surprised at the end of the video at my photographic serendipity. I will upload the it as soon as I get an internet connection that isn't slow as treacle.
If someone can think of a word that describes the way a crab moves that isn't "scuttle", please let me know.
Alex "rescuing" the crab.
The last couple of meals were actually pretty good. There is nothing that will make pork chops and mashed potatoes taste more delicious than being served a plate full of miscellaneous invertebrates and seaweed at the previous meal. I'd like to say we were sad to leave, but I really, really, wanted to wash my hair with copious amounts of shampoo in water that didn't smell like metal. The crab was happily ensconced in the pool's filter when we left.
We're back in wet, rainy Suva. The air is permeated with moisture - any bit of paper hangs limply in your hand. Anna's brilliant school results, which when they arrived in the post in the UK were on a lovey crisp sheet of A4 paper, has now acquired the texture of good quality toilet roll. Fortunately the school accepted it for the educational tender that it is. She is going to start school on 8th October, joining the year that she's already left in England, so that she can make friends and get a better idea about which subjects to take next school year (Jan 2013).
The students all wear bula shirts and both the boys and girls wear skirts (though the boys' are known as sulus). Shoes are optional. Rather than a bell announcing the end of periods, a loud tribal drum sounds. Roti is on the lunch menu. I'm jealous. When (if) I get a job there is no way it's going to be that cool.