The last couple of weeks were dedicated to giving Akuna her well-deserved beauty treatment.

And we are proud to announce: she is glowing again — looking just as great as she performs!

A proper queen deserves a proper spa day (or ten).

The team from Yachthelp Fiji did a fantastic job, guided by their new favourite foreman: Captain Mark. All the yachties coming after us will hopefully benefit from Mark’s newly established “how to properly polish a hull” masterclass.

Apparently, there are several secret steps involved: from washing properly, sanding, and using different magic polishing potions… to the final and most important one: “keep on rubbing until it shines!”

The guys seemed genuinely grateful for all the new tricks they learned — although we are not entirely sure whether they expected a yacht refit to come with a polishing seminar included.

Meanwhile, we continued another important family project:

“Let the children grow up like it’s the 80s… in rural Australia… preferably before anyone tells the authorities.”

The boys drove a car.

For the very first time.

We rented a tiny Suzuki Jimny to get between the boatyard and the marina — mainly because hot showers had become our definition of luxury. But then we discovered that the boatyard was basically a giant empty playground.

The boys could reach the pedals, which was the main requirement.

Mostly.

Nino technically could reach them too — although his driving experience included the exciting challenge of trusting that the road existed somewhere beyond the dashboard.

After many enthusiastic laps, encouraged by the local audience, all three have now decided that getting a driver’s licence is clearly their next life goal.

Back at Nawi Island Marina, reality caught up with us again. We started preparing everything for Akuna’s possible sale.

And this part is hard.

Because selling a boat is not like selling a car. You don’t just hand over keys. You hand over years of memories, sunsets, family moments, and adventures.

Akuna has been so much more than a boat; she has carried our family, our dreams, and some of our hardest and happiest moments.

After a few days, we hopped between two stops towards Port Denarau, where we will be reunited with our Code 0. It also received its own spa treatment (although “hospital stay” might be a more accurate description), and we hope it has recovered enough to carry us the final miles towards Australia.

Port Denarau is where Fiji gets a little confused: an Australian/New Zealand-style compound complete with golf course, manicured lawns, and gates. Step outside those gates, however, and Fiji immediately returns in all its colour, warmth, and chaos.

A few days ago, I went for a jog. As I left the gates behind and turned off the main road, I was enthusiastically greeted by local children cheering me on, asking for hugs and photos, and later telling me that God may bless me for my entire life.

I have to admit — I was quite moved.

After the adults had seen me interacting with the kids, they also started smiling, waving, and calling out as if I was an old friend. It seems that running off the main road, slowing down, and actually stopping to connect is always the right thing to do.

And maybe this is not only about running.

(Or, to quote one of my favourite running podcasts: #thisisaboutrunningthisisnotaboutrunning. And yes, Coach Bennett is worth listening to even if your idea of running is simply walking quickly towards coffee.)

So we prepare to leave Fiji with a huge collection of memories: boatyards, rough neighbourhoods, the contrasts between resort tourism and local communities, a newfound love for Bula shirts, and — above all — incredibly kind people.

People like Narren, our taxi driver in Savusavu, who wanted to know where I came from. He not only knew where Austria was and could name its neighbouring countries, but he had never heard of Mozart.

Thanks to Spotify, he listened to “the old man’s music” the next day and was completely amazed:

“Like God playing for me!”

Or the guys from Yachthelp, who were so careful not to disturb us — while their actual job was to disturb us by polishing the entire hull!

Or the children in the villages, cheering and waving, showing our kids how to catch yabbies. Coming from Germany, I initially wondered if they were making fun of me. But no — they were simply happy to talk, proud to show you their home, and genuinely curious.

So many friendly “Bula”.

Fiji, we will definitely return one day.

For now, though, it is time to say “vinaka vakalevu!” and push west.

We plan to leave tomorrow, Wednesday the 28th of July, heading towards Vanuatu on a 2–3 night passage.

Two to three nights at sea.
Up to 30 knots of wind.
Hopefully from the right direction.

So the Ginger comes out…

…and Akuna goes sailing again.