For Some Hardy Tourists, Fiji Isn’t Paradise Lost

Rhonda Pilozzi of Providence, R.I., was getting ready to leave on her big trip two weeks ago when she found a disturbing e-mail message from a friend.

Had she heard? There was trouble in Fiji.

Pilozzi went to the BBC’s Web site. Sure enough, there had been trouble--an attempted coup by six armed men and their rebel leader, George Speight. They had taken the prime minister and Parliament hostage, and were making demands.

Pilozzi had long planned her vacation. She, her husband and 18-year-old son were making their first trip to the tropical South Pacific nation, where they were to meet up with her 20-year-old daughter, who had been studying in New Zealand.

Should they go? They talked it over.

As she recounted their dilemma, Pilozzi had just stepped out of the pool at the Naviti Resort on Fiji’s Coral Coast. Water dripped from her deep blue swimsuit. Water gurgled out of the man-made waterfall behind her. Water shimmered in the natural lagoon in front of her. Her face glistened in the tropical sun.

“So we said, ‘Hey, we’ve invested a lot of money in this vacation. We might as well give it a shot,’ ” she recalled. “And we haven’t been sorry.”

Pilozzi and her family are among the exceptions--Fiji-bound tourists who didn’t cancel their vacations after Speight and his gunmen turned the nation upside down. The attempted coup and its sometimes violent aftermath have been devastating for Fiji’s tourist industry, the bedrock of the country’s economy.

The unrest has been limited almost entirely to the capital city, Suva, and some outlying rural areas, places where tourists seldom go. The most popular destinations are all on the other side of the main island, Viti Levu, or on outlying islands.

None of these has experienced any disturbances, and the only outward sign of the political troubles is the presence of occasional military patrols and roadblocks, implemented after the military took over the government and imposed martial law. The military commander, Commodore Frank Bainimarama, said he was forced to take charge to restore order.

The military has not entirely succeeded in bringing order to Suva, where there was more looting and another shooting Friday night. Nor has it succeeded in ending the crisis. A tentative deal reached late last week collapsed Saturday when both sides accused the other of reneging. Speight still holds about 30 top government officials hostage, including the deposed prime minister, Mahendra Chaudhry.

The military, growing increasingly frustrated with Speight, said he had introduced a new, 10-point proposal that had set back the negotiations. “It has stalled them, I think, is the best way of describing it,” said the military spokesman, Lt. Col. Filipo Tarakinikini.

Fiji’s economy stands on three legs: tourism, sugar cane and a growing garment industry. The sugar industry, the largest after tourism, relies heavily on a favorable trade arrangement with the European Economic Community, which buys Fijian sugar at subsidized rates.

The EEC alone could cripple the country economically by halting its sugar subsidies in response to the unrest. Still worse would be trade sanctions or travel restrictions imposed by Australia or New Zealand, which account for the bulk of Fiji’s trade and provided nearly half of its tourists last year. “They really hold most of the cards,” said David Forsythe, a professor of economics at the University of the South Pacific in Suva.

Both countries have warned Fiji that it will face severe penalties if it scraps its constitution and allows Speight to participate in its government. The military appears ready to accept both of those possibilities.

Already, the five nations that supply 80% of Fiji’s tourists--Australia, New Zealand, the United States, Great Britain and Japan--have issued strongly worded travel advisories warning their citizens to stay away. That, plus extensive news coverage of the attempted coup on television, especially in Australia and New Zealand, have combined to bludgeon the tourist industry.

Cancellations have been running at 60% at some large resorts, higher at some smaller ones. The national airline, Air Pacific, has seen 28% of its bookings canceled since the crisis and has been forced to cancel some flights. Workers in service jobs have begun to be laid off. Stores that cater to tourists have slashed prices, in a mostly futile effort to elicit business.

Fijians are quick to say that they understand the consequences of the crisis for the tourist industry. They have, after all, been here before. Fiji suffered two coups in 1987, sending its tourist industry into the tank. It took years to fully recover, and many people remember the price they paid in lost jobs and revenue.

This year, the tourist business in Fiji seemed to be poised for a boom. Hotels were being built; existing ones were drawing up plans for expansion.

Now, all that is threatened.

Leyh Harness runs a small business, Dive Connections, offering scuba diving excursions in Beqa Lagoon, just off the resort town of Pacific Harbor. She caters heavily to Californians, she said, and business was good before the crisis.

Since then, “it’s come to a screeching halt.”

Tourism and Transportation Ministry officials and many industry experts insist that the consequences of this crisis will pass quickly.

They say simply that Fiji has too much going for it--beautiful scenery, a wonderful climate, friendly people, a culture that seems exotic to outsiders--to remain off limits for long.

“Long term, we think this has lot of growth potential,” said Harold Derrah, managing director for Trendwest Resorts, a Seattle-based company that sells time-shares in resort condominiums and just opened 76 units on Fiji’s Denarau Island.

For most of the tourists who have come to Fiji since the crisis began, the trip will be remembered as slightly odd but not necessarily unpleasant.

At the Naviti Resort, the only disturbance is being caused by the myna birds squawking away on the lawn. The 104-room resort is set on 40 acres of gardens brimming with coconut palms, bougainvillea and bright red ginger flowers. The chaos in the capital seems worlds away.

In the pool, Tony Slayford, a discount store manager from Melbourne, Australia, is lolling with his wife and in-laws. He and his family came to escape winter in the Southern Hemisphere, and seem to have succeeded.

He described their activities since arriving: “Swimming, snorkeling, golf, eat, drink, sleep.” Two weeks’ worth.

“We tossed a coin a few times, whether we’d come or not,” Slayford said. “We watched as much TV and read the papers as much as we could. Everything suggested that if there was going to be trouble, it would be in Suva, and the rest of the country was normal.”

That, he said, had been borne out.

“We’re glad we made the choice to come,” he added, slapping the water about with his hands. “It would be sad if we were at home now in the freezing weather, instead of here doing this.”