From the moment I knew I’d be traveling to Australia for my sister’s wedding, I was looking at a map, trying to determine how many unvisited countries I could squeeze in. Booking via Fiji Airways and taking a long layover on one of the islands before heading to Melbourne seemed like an obvious choice.
Several islands comprise Fiji so it was helpful to have some criteria to narrow the list: we only had a few days so spending more time flying once we landed in Nadi was out of the question, however, we also wanted a more intimate island experience so that ruled out remaining on Viti Levu, I also wasn’t interested in staying in a large resort, and I wanted to do a shark dive. All this left me with one option: Barefoot Kuata in the Yasawa Islands. Once I decided on that, choosing Barefoot Manta, a relatively short ferry ride away, was pretty easy.
This is a video highlight of our shark dive and manta ray snorkel. Read on for more of our Fiji experience.
Day 1 – Arrival
Our overnight flight from Los Angeles landed just after 6 in the morning. We collected our bags and transferred with South Sea Cruises to the port terminal. The drive wasn’t particularly scenic, and the port was, well, a small port, so when the ferry pulled away from Port Denarau, I felt the meh of the mainland fall away with it. The water around us shifted from dull green to impossible shades of turquoise as the Yasawa Islands rose on the horizon, a string of volcanic ridges softened by palms.
It was still early when the tender dropped us off at the resort, the only one on the small island of Kuata. Staff greeted us barefoot on the sand, smiling as if we’d just come home. We signed up for the shark dive, and after lunch, we found a cozy lounge chair and waited until we could check-in to our dorm. At 3PM we did a short scuba refresher course in the pool, our instructor running us through the basics of clearing our mask, expelling water from our regulator and maintaining neutral buoyancy. The rest of the afternoon unfolded in slow motion: relaxing in lounge chairs while gentle breezes kept the humidity at bay, walking the tide line with no destination, and later, indulging in a dinner buffet while the staff performed a repertoire of local songs.
Island time had taken over.
Day 2 – Into the Blue
The next morning began with a rush of excitement. We were heading out for the shark dive—something I’d been looking forward to since I’d read about it on the resort’s website.
We reached Yakawe, our dive spot, after a short, bumpy boat ride, and dropped into the blue. The world above vanished in a shimmer of bubbles, replaced by a cathedral of light and shadow that played over the colorful coral. We swam to a concrete platform about 12 meters down where we each took a front row seat. Then, as if conjured, about fifteen bull sharks appeared—sleek, effortless silhouettes gliding toward us. From a large metal container off to one side, two of the guides pulled out fish heads using long spears and thrust them upwards into the water.
Sharks snapped at the easy food, circling in front and above us, waiting for the next round. I was never scared, just in complete awe, as these magnificent creatures, the largest about 3 meters, sometimes swam directly at us, other times passing right above our heads. Guides knelt beside us, using prods to push away any shark that came too close.
After 35 minutes of bottom time the signal came to return to the surface. With no more food forthcoming , the sharks, and other fish that had come for the free breakfast, dispersed. We did a slow ascent, passing over an assortment of hard and soft coral
Back on the boat, the adrenaline slowly melted into laughter and sun. The rest of the day was spent the way all great island days are—barefoot, salt-crusted, and content.
Day 3 – The Long Rain
The next morning, we caught the Yasawa Flyer north to our second stop, Barefoot Manta, located on another small island called Drawaqa. The bluer skies of yesterday had been replaced by layers of nimbus clouds. By the time we checked in and had lunch, rain had started, soft at first, then relentless.
Tropical rain is a world of its own—heavy, cleansing, alive. We took refuge in the open-air lounge, watching the downpour blur the horizon. Books came out, card games began, and conversations bloomed among strangers who otherwise might have stayed silent.
By late afternoon the rain stopped. After moving into our dorm, we spent an hour exploring the back half of the island. We hiked to the lookout point and from the top had beautiful views of the crystal clear waters below and the neighboring island, but it was so windy that we didn’t linger.
That evening, we shared a table with a young Fijian couple who lived in Florida . Over a scrumptious multi-course dinner we learned that they were attending a wedding and were visiting the country for the first time in decades.
With no TV or Wi-Fi in the rooms, we turned in early, lulled to sleep by the sound of the wind blowing outside.
Day 4 – Manta Magic
At Barefoot Manta, everything revolves around one question: Have the mantas been spotted? The rays pass through a narrow channel near the resort, drawn by plankton when the tides align. It was the end of the manta ray season, but there was a good chance that the rain and wind from the day before had stirred up the water, bringing their food source to the surface, and possibly luring them in.
We were out on the first snorkel trip of the morning, bright and early at 6:30. As we jumped off the boat into the water our guides summoned us to form a line. The current swept us along, and then—there it was. A giant manta, looping gracefully through the blue, its wings spanning meters wide. After it glided past us, we repositioned ourselves and this time, saw a second manta. It came so close I could see the tiny remoras clinging to its underside.
The current had carried us downstream so we clamored back into the boat. A few seconds later, we were back in the water, ready for round two. Soon, a shadow appeared in the depths, and we saw the graceful giant, moving like a ballet dancer, swimming towards the surface.
Back on the boat, we all chatted excitedly. Some people had heard that previous groups had seen no mantas—we were so lucky to have seen not just one, but two of them.
After breakfast, Chris and I decided to snorkel some more. I didn’t know what to expect, but when we saw the coral wall off Manta Ray Beach I was stunned: it was a kaleidoscope of colors, with giant brain corals and branching corals the size of small trees dotting my field of vision. I could have spent more time there but the deeper waters also meant colder waters so we finally made our way back to shore.
The rest of the day was spent lazily, walking from one beach to the next, exploring the shallow waters (where we spotted a baby reef shark), and relaxing in the lounge.
For our last night we hung out at Sunset Beach to watch the sky turn a fiery orange as the sun dropped below the horizon. As dusk set in, bats, one after the other, flew across the sky, possibly to a neighboring island, in search of food.
We headed to the restaurant ourselves, ready for one last dinner.
Day 5 – Rain Again, and Reflection
On our last morning, the sky was even bluer than the day before, a parting gift. We spent the morning after breakfast doing one final circumnavigation of the island. We spotted our friend, the reef shark again and watched the next batch of guests arrive.
At 2:30, the departure call came and we boarded the tender. We waited a few hundred meters off shore for the ferry. A small got in the distance grew impressively larger, as the high speed catamaran came into focus.
As we neared Port Denaru, I watched fat raindrops chase each other down the window and thought about the contrasts that had defined our trip—the thrill of the shark dive, the hush of the manta encounter, the bright sunshine, and the grey rain.
Epilogue: What Remains
Everyday wasn’t the glossy, brochure-perfect version of paradise. But considering that we were there at the end of the dry season, the unexpected moments helped us appreciate the good days even more.