The pilot pointed thorough the window of the single engine aircraft and stated in his heavy Australian accent “There’s the airstrip mate”.
I looked ahead and what I could see was an island bursting a thousand feet above the South Pacific Ocean, but there was nothing at all that resembled an airport.
We had been flying for more than an hour above the bluest, clearest waters your mind can imagine. They were so clear in fact, that you could see reefs and large fish below the surface of the water.
We arrived in Suva, on the island of Veti Levu, after a 15 hour flight from Los Angeles. It wasn’t a comfortable flight and it felt like it had taken forever, but we were headed to our wedding destination and I knew it was going to be well worth it!
There had been travel advisories due to a coup that occurred just weeks before we arrived. The leader of the Fijian military had walked into the elected Prime Minister’s Office, pointed a gun at him, and had simply taken over control of the government. I wasn’t worried though because we were traveling far from the politics and unrest to a very private island.
When the massive jet we were flying on landed in Suva the doors opened and we disembarked directly onto the tarmac. There was no traditional airport to greet us, just a carport like building with no walls and several kiosks inside.
We were ushered through this tiny airport, presented with lei’s and then given a bottle of Fiji water...although, because we were actually in Fiji, I wondered if it should just be called water?
After we received the instructions for obtaining a marriage license in this foreign land, we were pointed to the aircraft upon which we were now flying.
It wasn’t large. A single engine propellor plane that was as brightly colored as you’d expect it to be for an island nation. You probably could’ve found the same aircraft, painted with the same sunset logo, on any Caribbean Island. It looked like it had seen better days, but we had a wedding to get to so it was our only option.
The pilot pointed again as we drew nearer the island and stated very matter of factly, “That’s the airstrip, straight ahead.”
What I saw was blue water meeting a beach, and the beach met a beautiful green field that seemed to rise up into a steep mountain side. Strangely, as the rest of the island looked like a jungle, there were no trees at all as the green field climbed the side of the volcanic mountain.
We had been flying about a thousand feet or so over the South Pacific and now the pilot began to descend. We weren’t flying on a Seaplane either. This was just a normal plane with wheels and no pontoons.
The pilot was headed directly toward that beach, field, and mountainside and I was growing incredibly concerned. My fiancé was on board and there was no way I was letting this guy ditch into the ocean.
He must’ve sensed my concern as he gave me a quick pat on the shoulder (I was seated in the co-pilots seat) and said “No worries mate” just before we touched down on the beach.
Before I could grasp what was happening the plane began rolling up that treeless mountain side after it narrowly missed the beach and touched down on the technicolor green field.
We almost reached the highest point of the mountain side before the pilot turned the aircraft around and began to roll back toward the beach from whence we came.
He chucked a bit and then explained that the treeless path was the “airstrip” and that without the mountain we would’ve skipped straight over the island and into the ocean on the other side. He add that he found it was best not to explain that to foreigners until after the adventure had ended.
When the plane came to rest back near the beach I realized there was nothing around us...just a plain white pickup truck, a small sign with the name of the resort I had chosen, and jungle. There was jungle everywhere!
We exited our island adventure flight and were immediately swarmed by more mosquitos than I have ever seen in my life. They were covering every visible inch of skin and no amount of swatting, smacking, or movement made them go away.
I really couldn’t think at that moment. I spent a ridiculous amount of money to escape overbearing parents (not mine of course) who wanted to dictate every aspect of a wedding, to come to this amazing place and now I thought maybe I had made the biggest mistake of my life.
Images of those horror movie vacation films flashed through my head as the pilot walked us to the waiting truck. There were several men around the truck and another couple who appeared to be leaving the island. They were all smiles and greeted us warmly, but the unease in my stomach was looming larger and I didn’t take notice of them at all. (I would later learn that it was one of the Madden brothers from the band Good Charlotte)
The truck they placed us in began crawling down a dirt path that was more mud than dirt. At one point we drove into what appeared to be a pond and the mud nearly reached the windows. The driver just adjusted into the low setting for the four wheel drive and kept moving as if it were no big deal.
She didn’t speak to me at all as we followed this make-shift road through the jungle and over a mountain. I knew she was thinking exactly what I was thinking...that we were trapped in this nightmare for the next 16 days.
Eventually the dirt path turned into a hand laid, cobble stone driveway as we entered the resorts property. It was, with the exception of the 3 native villages, the only thing on the island. There were no restaurants, stores, cars, casinos, tv’s, radio’s, cell phones, computers, or anything else resembling modern life. It was remote, and desolate. I believed at that moment that I would forever regret this decision.
Upon exiting the truck we found that there were no more mosquitoes. It was very comfortably quiet as we walked toward the reception area. You could hear the waves lapping against the beach that was mere feet away and the colors of the property were unlike anything I had ever seen before.
Every shade of green imaginable surrounded the reception hall and bright splashes of red and blue adorned the staffs clothing. It looked exactly like a Gauguin painting and although I had never understood his color choices and loose strokes, I completely understood him at that moment.
We settled into our beach front, thatched roof, bungalow and prepared ourselves for the two weeks that would follow. Despite the initial reaction, it was two weeks of our lives that could never be repeated.
To describe it as paradise wouldn’t do the experience justice. It was perfect. We were disconnected from the world. The other guests...and there were very few...seemed to have the same reaction to this unimaginable place as we did.
Everyone came together and we created friendships that last to this day, with people from all corners of the globe. We shared our lives with each other and it became immediately apparent that we were very insignificant people from an insignificant place.
One couple owned a vineyard in Napa Valley. They were friends of Hugh Hefner and helped create the fund that preserves the Hollywood sign for eternity after if collapsed during an earthquake.
Another couple had tutored Prince William and Harry and knew Diana personally, as well as the Queen’s seamstress.
A bride and groom arrived, one of which was a renowned professional water skier and the other an accomplished Broadway actress, were there to celebrate their honeymoon.
It didn’t stop. Everyone we met had lived fairy tale lives and here we were, two kids from the Midwest (and none of these people even knew where the Midwest was) attempting to find our place amongst them.
Whatever self conscious thoughts we might have had about ourselves, none of the people we met thought any less of us.
They attended our wedding ceremony and brought gifts they had purchased at the local villages. We dined together, swam together, danced together, and exchanged information so that we could continue to communicate together.
Everyone was in sync in this place and it was the smallness of the resort that made it possible. 18 guests was their maximum occupancy...on an entire island that was about 6 miles long and 2 miles wide...but during our stay maximum occupancy was never reached. Actually, for two days of our stay my new wife and I were the only guests on the entire island.
One afternoon something changed though. A very...very large yacht docked just off the beach in front of the island. The staff grew nervous and there was tension in the air. Every one was running here and there. Cleaning crews seemed to be working over time and decorations were enhanced around the property.
There were only a handful of guests on the island that day and we were eventually told that the yacht belonged to the Prime Minister of Fiji. Yes, that Prime Minister who had taken power by force.
He arrived on the island to establish a trade route for goods and services so that the residents of the villages (most of whom would never step foot off of that island) didn’t have to buy necessities from the resort.
Anything that couldn’t be grown, crafted, or constructed from the islands natural resources had to be flown in by the resort and resold to the villagers. Shampoo, clothing, cereal, canned goods, and even non-goat milk, cost many times more than any of us would be willing to pay for it and the villagers certainly couldn’t afford what we are accustomed to. So, the Prime Minister, Josaia Voreqe “Frank” Bainimarama, had come there to find a way to make those things more affordable for his people.
That evening we were invited to a reception hosted by the Prime Minister. We were told it was causal and that whatever beachwear we had would be appropriate. I was wearing a t-shirt and shorts...as was my wife.
I also happened to have a half-kilo of Kava, a ceremonial drug that caused a light feeling of euphoria and tingling of the lips and tongue. I had been given an entire kilo of it by our travel agent when we arrived in Suva and had given half of that to the resort staff as a gesture of goodwill.
At this point in time I was working as an undercover narcotics agent in the U.S. and although Kava isn’t illegal there was still something that didn’t feel quite right about having or using it.
I asked the staff if it would be appropriate to present it to the Prime Minister at dinner and they explained to me that it would be an incredible honor for him to receive it. So, we went to dinner and I took the Kava with me.
As the handful of other guests met with the Prime Minister and his wife we patiently awaited our turn. I was holding the Kava in hand and it wasn’t until that moment that I realized what t-shirt I was wearing.
I wanted to run from the reception hall and change, but it was too late. It was our turn to meet the Prime Minister. The four of us greeted each other and chatted for several moments. I told him how amazed I was with his country, it’s unbelievably friendly people, and his willingness to care for those people. I handed him the Kava, which he was very grateful for, and then we took a photograph.
In said photograph we are all smiles...the Prime Minister, who hostilely overthrew his government, our wives, and me...a narc who had given him drugs and was wearing a t-shirt with several pink, semi-automatic assault rifles surrounding one pink guitar printed on the front; and the words “Music is the weapon of the future” printed on the back.
