Fiji By Cousteau

VANUA LEVU ISLAND, Fiji —  On this blue-on-blue morning in the South Pacific, I am sitting on the beach with Jean-Michel Cousteau, the 58-year-old ocean explorer, filmmaker and son of the late Jacques. We are sipping strong Fijian coffee and watching my daughter and stepgrandson build sand castles in the shade of a coconut palm on a narrow strip of beach that fronts this resort that bears his name.

The Jean-Michel Cousteau Fiji Islands Resort is located on the second largest of more than 300 Fiji islands and operated by Cousteau in partnership with the same resort company that operates the Post Ranch Inn in Big Sur and the Lodge at Skylonda in Woodside, Calif. It prides itself on its philosophy of environmental sensitivity, as well as its friendliness toward children, being one of the few top-end resorts in Fiji that welcomes kids year round. Its children’s program, called Bula Camp, was particularly attractive to my wife, Pam, and me since we were vacationing with two children, ages 8 and 10.

(Some full disclosure is in order here. We were guests of the resort during our five-day stay over Thanksgiving last year. A freelance graphic designer, I was flown here to take pictures of the property for a travel brochure I helped design for Resort Design Group, the company that runs the Cousteau resort. All of my family’s accommodations and meals were provided free of charge.)

I first met Cousteau, who spends a week in residence at the resort about four times a year, on the day we arrived. In the bar, over rum concoctions prepared by Vuli the bartender, I mentioned to him that I’d written an environmental book for children. This led to a discussion about the role children will play in determining the future of the Earth, a conversation we continued now on the beach.

“The children who come here with their parents will one day be the adults making decisions that will affect the health of the planet,” Cousteau says. “Our goal here is to provide them with something to think about before that day arrives.” So besides keeping them entertained, the kids’ program also aims to give them something to think about.

The purpose of Bula Camp, he explains, is to engage children in the conservation process at a level they can appreciate, to “cultivate their awareness of the natural world.”

We are introduced to the concept on the second morning of our visit. My 8-year-old daughter, Alice, and I are reading by the pool when Lauren Monks, an Australian naturalist employed by the resort, invites us along on one of the day’s Bula Camp activities, an excursion to gather mangrove saplings from a cove near the town of Savusavu, 10 minutes away by boat. The junior conservationists will transplant the mangrove shoots to a site at the far end of the resort, which sits on a 17-acre peninsula separating Savusavu Bay from the Koro Sea. The idea is to help with a reforestation project to reestablish mangroves that were torn out 25 years ago, when the resort was a coconut plantation.

“People used to believe mangroves were mosquito breeding grounds that caused the shoreline to erode,” Monks yells over the roar of the outboard motor. Actually, she says, the mangroves produce a toxin that kills mosquito larvae. Also, by trapping silt, sediment and bits of coral and shell, the tangled roots cause the shoreline to grow. Another benefit of mangroves, she tells us, is that they produce a toxin that kills mosquito larvae.

When we return to the resort, Alice and I are joined by Pam, 10-year-old Shane and Maria, a local Fijian with a nonstop smile who was the kids’ nanny during our stay. But before we resume our mangrove planting mission, Monks suggests we take advantage of the low tide for an exploratory wade on the coral reef “flat” directly in front of the resort. (The resort’s sand beach is relatively narrow, and the reef extends up to the shoreline; we wore rubber-soled sandals to keep from getting our feet cut up on the bottom.)

“Look, a sea cucumber,” says Monks, stooping to extract the 9-inch animal from its habitat. “See these little tentacles around its mouth? That’s how they eat.”

“But what do they eat?” Alice wants to know.

“Tiny plants and animals called zooplankton,” Monks explains.

The 50 or so mangrove saplings that had been transplanted by the time of our visit are protected from the ocean by boulders placed to form a breakwater. Alice and Shane scoop holes in the sand with pieces of driftwood, planting two saplings each. Monks gives each of the children a tape measure, and they read aloud the saplings’ height as Lauren records it in a log. Then a tag is attached to each planting, recording the date and each child’s name. Watching this, my mind drifts forward to a time when Alice and Shane might return to this spot and find a mature mangrove forest they helped start.

The mangrove reforestation project and the coral reef flat walk are only two of the activities at Bula Camp (bula means “welcome” in the Fijian language), which costs $40 per day for each child up to age 9. Fijian craftsmen show kids how tapa, a handmade mulberry bark cloth that is colored with dyes, is made. Children also participate in dance demonstrations, which help them develop an appreciation of the local culture. For younger children there is a playground with swings, a jungle gym, a slide, a sandbox and a shallow wading pool.

The mangrove reforestation project is taking root a few yards in front of our two-bedroom, oceanfront bure (pronounced boo-ray), a thatched-roof Fijian bungalow that has high ceilings, hardwood floors, wood slat windows and fine mesh screens that keep out bugs. The bure is tastefully but simply decorated with rattan furniture, brightly colored pillows, a well-stocked refrigerator and fans that conspire with sea breezes to keep guests comfortable in the tropical heat. There are no televisions or telephones. Normally I’m a borderline insomniac, and I don’t know if it was the lullaby of waves crashing on distant reefs or the firm mattress or knowing that my wake-up call would come from a myna bird, but every night I slept soundly.

Meals at the Cousteau resort, which are included in the price, run to simple, healthy fare. Breakfast is a buffet of mouthwatering tropical fruit--papayas, melons, pineapples and squeezed-that-morning juices--and freshly baked breads and pastries, with eggs, breakfast meats, pancakes or French toast to order. For dinner, the choices are salads, pasta dishes, fresh fish and vegetables from the resort’s organic garden.

Families with children are encouraged to dine between 5 and 6 p.m. in the poolside dining room in order to reserve later hours for couples and others seeking quieter suppers. Mom and Dad can also leave the kids to dine with their nannies, local Fijian women who provide full-time child care as part of the charge for Bula Camp, and schedule a romantic sunset dinner at the end of the resort’s pier.

But we dined mostly with other families, where the dinner table topics ranged from the bargains to be found in the local village (where Pam bought huge tapa cloth wall hangings for $10 and $15), to kayaking along the shoreline. There are other activities to sample as well: massage, yoga, tennis, hikes through the rain forest to jungle waterfalls.

Since the resort began operating under Cousteau and his partners four years ago, it has earned a reputation as a premier scuba diving retreat. But for a family with younger children, the real attraction is snorkeling. Each day the resort’s glass-bottom boat leaves the dock at 11 a.m. and again at 2 p.m. for a number of snorkeling destinations on nearby reefs. After trying out our equipment (fins and snorkel masks are included in the room price) at the end of the pier, we join families from New Zealand and California and are off on our first snorkeling adventure.

On the way to one snorkeling site, Shane, much to his amazement, spots a black fin in the sea. Temba, the boat’s pilot, identifies the creature as a humpback whale as we pursue it briefly before the fin slides beneath the surface.

Temba locates the Clorox-bottle buoy that marks our anchorage and ties up the boat. A moment later we are in the water, riding the gentle swell and looking down at the display of iridescent blue, mustard yellow, fiery orange and red coral beneath us. A light show of brightly colored fish rises to greet us, then disappears between the staghorn coral like sparks exploding from a fire. I am as taken by the thrill of discovery as Alice, and cannot remember a time when I have felt this close to my daughter.

One evening after dinner, we gather at poolside to watch a meke, a ceremonial dance performed by Fijians from a nearby village. It seems as if everyone from the village, from toddlers to grandmothers, is part of the show. Young men in headdresses, grass skirts and painted faces dance to the beat of drums, thrusting spears at the sky and at one another, reminding spectators that Fiji islanders were once fierce cannibals. Behind them, villagers chant on the lawn; Fiji is known for the fine singing of its people.

When the performance is over and we’ve all had a chance to learn a couple of Fijian dance steps, Cousteau invites everyone to stay for a video about Keiko of “Free Willy” fame, the killer whale that was flown from the Oregon coast to his new home in Icelandic waters--an event in which Cousteau was intimately involved.

As the video screen is rolled into place in the lounge, a toad hops onto the deck and into the swimming pool. Shane moves quickly to its rescue, cradling the amphibian in his hands. Cousteau walks over, puts his hand on Shane’s shoulder and thanks him for saving the toad’s life. He then tells Shane to wash his hands since the toad’s skin excretes a mild toxin that may irritate human skin.

All too soon, it’s time to catch our flight to the international airport at Nadi on Fiji’s capital island, Viti Levu. The kids pack some tapa cloth and a carving or two. But the seashells every kid wants to bring back home for show and tell? They’re still on the beach, where they belong.

(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX / INFOGRAPHIC)

GUIDEBOOK

Eco-Friendly Fiji

Getting there: Air New Zealand and Air Pacific fly nonstop from Los Angeles to Fiji’s international airport at Nadi, an 11-hour flight; lowest restricted round-trip fare is $998. From Nadi, Air Fiji and Sunflower airlines make the 45-minute flight to Savusavu on the island of Vanua Levu; $188 round trip. Some flights to Nadi arrive late in the day, so you must overnight at an airport hotel and catch a morning flight. We stayed at the Fiji Macambo, telephone 011-679-722-000, fax 011-679-720-324; our room, which had a slight mildew odor, was $82. Other travelers have recommended Raffles Gateway, tel. 011-679-722-444, fax 011-679-720-620; $89 per night.

Jean-Michel Cousteau Fiji Islands Resort: There are 25 bures, or bungalows, of various sizes and prices. Oceanfront bungalows with king-size bed plus daybed are $460 per night; garden-view rooms, not on the beach but identical to oceanfront rooms, $405; two-bedroom units, $545, sleep five people. Five split-level oceanfront rooms, $625, sleep four. Rates are based on double occupancy; for a third person age 17 and above, add $95 per night; for a third person age 11 to 16, add $70. Rates include all meals (but no alcohol), plus snorkeling equipment and kayaks; scuba diving is extra. Reservations: tel. (800) 246-3454, fax (415) 788-0150, Internet https://www.fijiresort.com.

When to go: Fiji is in the tropics close to the equator, so seasons are measured more by precipitation than temperature. Rainy season is November to May.

For more information: Fiji Visitors Bureau, 5777 W. Century Blvd., Suite 220, Los Angeles, CA 90045; tel. (800) 932-3454 or (310) 568-1616, fax (310) 670-2318, Internet https://www.bulafiji.com.