No, not that kind of cruise. This is different.
For pokie machines and deck quoits, think mountain bikes, kayaks and dive gear. For portside cities and souvenir shops, think isolated bays, divespots and natural wonders.
ItÕs relaxed and informal. Dress-down rather than dress code. YouÕll know the names of everyone on board. The captain mostly wears a t-shirt.
Welcome aboard the Tui Tai, a 40 metre Fijian motor sailer charting the quiet, untouristed waters of Vanua Levu and FijiÕs eastern islands. ThereÕs an all-Fijian crew of 16, and room for up to 24 guests in 12 air-con cabins.
Add in a couple of runabouts, a fully equipped PADI dive operation, and enough adventure gear for everyone, and youÕve got a cruise ship set up for serious, active fun.
Day 1
We cast off mid-morning from Savusavu harbour and headed to our first activity, a sedate paddle up the Yanowai river. Leaving Tui Tai at anchor in deep water we clambered aboard a Naiad inflatable for a high-speed journey to the start point.
Bouncing across the wavetops at 40 knots, then up the river at speed, the boat carved graceful bank-to-bank arcs up the winding river. Exhilarating.
The actual kayak bit was a gentle affair: a paddle upstream, then a couple of kilometres in the direction of the sea.
The riverbank teemed with life. There were taro plots, bananas, mangroves, giant banyan trees. Kids Ð masses of kids Ð swam and played in the water. Jumping from trees, bridges, high banks. Floating downstream, clinging to morsels of banana palm, paddling in impossibly overladen tin boats.
Swapna, an Indian lass with international credentials, got me to take her photo beside an mini waterfall.
Bryant, from San Diego, ditched his kayak to horse around with some local kids, bombing the rest of us from a stout-but-slippery overhanging branch.
Paddling back to the rendezvous point, Liga our guide entertained with stories of the surroundings: Iguanas, wild pigs, how-to-cook-breadfruit, even a tale of a long abandoned goldmine.
Back on Tui Tai in time for lunch, we cruised to our afternoon anchor point off the Cousteau resort.
Most of my fellow travellers were American. John and Suzy had come all the way from Tuscon, here for FijiÕs excellent diving opportunities (half the guests were PADI-certified). Together with diving mates Pat and Carl, also from Arizona, it seemed theyÕd dived just about everywhere in the world.
They relished the prospect of two dives a day. The first was scheduled for later in the afternoon.
The divers saddled up and took the Naiad out to deep water. The rest of us grabbed snorkels and flippers and paddled around a nearby reef for our first coral experience.
It was surreal, like being shrunk in size and plonked in an aquarium. All around, coral sprouted in a thousand shapes, colours and sizes: giant mushrooms, human brains, sawn-off coconut palms, twinkling on the ends, or in a big wash of blue like spilled paint.
Fish were everywhere. Angel fish, south seas devils, lined bristletooth, black snapper. Little aquamarine ones swimming in dense schools, brahmin blue fluorescent starfish with waving tentacles.
Post-dinner we lounged around the big communal dining table on the back deck. Newlyweds Nastaram and Arash patiently explained for the umpteenth time how theyÕd emigrated to Canada from Iran.
Puerto Rican Iris was in animated chatter with Aggie our Fijian camp mother. New Jersey Steve and Jenny betrayed a weakness for Chevy Chase movies. The divers relived their afternoon dive through the viewfinder of a digital camera.
To bed early. Clearly, this was no party cruise.
Day 2
Nothing beats waking with sleepy eyes, walking on to the deck and diving into the deep clear blue Fijian water. The worldÕs biggest swimming pool.
Breakfast on the back deck (omelette, cereal, bodum coffee, fresh pineapple) and off for a kayak around the mainland coast. When everything got too hot, we abandoned the kayaks for a swim in the bay, and took turns surfing behind the support dinghy.
After lunch we visited Nagigi village. Our transport was a classic old school windowless local bus Ð the perfect way to bounce along the semi and un-paved roads of Vanua Levu. Back through Savusavu town, a dozen yachts lay at anchor in the most beautiful harbour in the Pacific.
The village visit was remarkable: totally unrehearsed, candid and authentic. The elders were expecting us. The rest of the village was slugging it out at an all-you-can-eat volleyball match over the road.
We sat cross legged under the meeting house verandah. Men sang and passed around the Kava (a local infusion, mildly intoxicating, made from the root of the yaqona bush).
Locals initiated a stroll around the village. A local girl explained the sad fate of the Methodist church, destroyed in the Boxing Day cyclone of 2004.
Back at the meeting house, women presented garlands, sang songs and got us all dancing. Smiles, pride, exuberance, grace, warmth, fun Ð exhausting and incredibly fulfilling.
Daylight was failing as we headed home. Smoke from woodfires. The smell of kerosene and burning pikopiko leaves. Dirt roads, bumps and potholes, headlight beams through the dust.