HourGlass: December 2009

The winds are light to nonexistent. The current has it’s thoughts as to where we should go. We’re outside Honiara with northbound intentions and a west-southwest drift. When the wind does show itself, the desired Florida group is no longer practical and the sail is set for Savu. The art to sailing these waters is both patience and the ability to change our destination. Savo, a volcanic uplift lacking in bays served us fine in flat seas with it’s bounty of friendly villagers.

After expressing our desire to hike the volcano an elder appoints three teenage boys to show us the way. The boys hike barefoot over the sharp volcanic rock and rubble lacking concern on where the foot is placed at a speed to match ours with shoes. The closer we get to the heart of the volcano the hotter the stream gets to the point where our guides must keep their feet dry. The sulfur smell is intense. Steam spews out like small geysers upward and sideways from the canyon walls. Sulfur and calcite deposits cover the ground in natural crystallized formations. We only go as far as the canyon rim in the heart of the volcano. It is here one of our guides finds a megapode egg, difficult to find but easy to capture. The megapode nest is built on the ground and they utilize the warm earth, eliminating the need to lie on the eggs. Now due to human impact, the species’ population declines. About three times the size of a chicken egg with unusually large yolks, it took about 10 minutes to hard-boil in the small bubbling pool covered with leaves.

The sun is setting as a man approaches Chandrika in the motorized panga (small, open skiff powered by an outboard engine and used around the world). The chief, the over friendly drunk that he is, introduces himself as Patrick and boards Chandrika. His double shirt pockets as well as short pockets are stuffed with the unlabeled locally bottled drink of whiskey and coke in clear plastic 4 oz bottles, Saratonga.

Safely seated he states it is eminent that we come to the village for dinner and tradition dictates that he and his wife (meaning his wife) cook us a chicken. Well a drunk with good intentions is a drunk none-the-less. While his sons are watching the boat for security (note: our combination lock had been tinkered with while we were gone, although most likely with innocent intentions) we had something they managed to concoct on short notice with some sort of meat, or should we say blubber. The darkness of night made for a happy dog under the table, need we say more.

The next day with Patrick sober, a proper meal was prepared which was delicious. With good intentions always existing, we were sent away loaded with gifts from their garden and as the dance goes we made sure to not leave them empty handed before parting a day or two later.

The heart of the mountain

Patrick, his wife, and their adopted daughter

Our 3 young guides

The seas were flat, the sails were down. Our 3:00 am departure for only a 40 mile day sail had turned to night with the assistance of our ethical refusal to turn on the engine. Early morning hours brought with them 5 knots of wind and soon we entered Vulavu Harbor, Isla Isabel. The chief’s son greeted us and filled out a complete form, fulfilling his job and including us in the first Solomon Islands population census since 1999. This was followed by greetings from local teens and the Chief. “My job is to know who is here,” he said in official tone. We followed him to shore where he gave us coconuts to drink, he shared his family photo album with us, and he railed us asking for things like magazines, books, pictures, drugs to relieve pain “the red and blue ones”, alcohol, cigarettes, and when Graham was absent Sue was asked for Playboy magazines!

The next morning we returned to shore, armed with a Frisbee and a bottle of Ibuprofen. Not wanting to see the 67 year old perverted opportunist of a chief, we decided to visit the welcoming children and young adults we’d met the previous day. We took a walk to two neighboring villages guided by our new friends, Tom and Andrew both in their early 20’s, who educated us on which palms make good sitting mats, the Sago palm used for roofs, shrubs producing a lettuce type leaf for eating, the Noni fruits used for a hair growth formula, and numerous fruits and nuts on what often looked to us like just jungle forest.

Vulavu is stock full of beautiful happy people who are full of fun and playful energy. It did not take long to introduce Frisbee and soon draw in 10+ people learning the sport, not afraid of those initial embarrassing throws.

Exhaustion drew us back to Chandrika and of course 11+ dugout canoes worth of kids were drawn with us. An hours rest hiding down below in Chandrika and still they paddled circles around us so we jumped into the water and started playing with them. These kids would grab Chandrika’s rails, call out to squeak in the local dialect “pus pus pus”, plow into each other, roll their own canoes, and tip other people’s on purpose. They would stay sitting in a drowned dugout with a foot of bow and a head above water continuing to paddle. It was all smiles, all around, all the time.

Andrew knocks on the hull and it’s near midnight as we lay sound asleep. He has returned, as promised, with two types of lobster, a crab, and numerous fish from a night of fishing and diving. With an underwater flashlight on a moonless night the creatures are stunned and picked up effortlessly. We were happy to be awakened by this giving person from whom we accepted the lobster and crab but had to refuse his offer of fish as well. This was not a trade but just another act of human kindness.

We loved our stay in Vulavu even though on our last evening there we were told by the chief that a “meeting had been held by the high counsel” and we needed to leave. Gathered from his English/ Pijin combo was that their new policy allowed boats to only stay 48 hours and perhaps something to do with us not returning to see him. Though neither blue nor red (maybe he really wants the purple pill) he had managed to stop us, ignorant as he was, moments before giving him a bottle of Ibuprofen.

Regardless of the chief our last evening was filled with many children and one adult playing in canoes and water around Chandrika. We said goodnight and goodbye as the sun set and the children replied saying, “We love you Susan,” “Graham come back anytime.”

2 lobsters and a crab from Andrew

A beautiful sunset

Things go wild

Only a few of the lot

Dorothy sinks

Kids having fun

We are anchored at the town of Peava on the island of Ngatukai in the New Georgia group. 2 high school aged girls, best friends, Thelma and Carina, just came by with the most beautiful assortment of produce including over 20 green peppers, a papaya, a pineapple, a few giant snake beans, bananas, 2 coconuts ready to drink, green onion wrapped together with local foliage, and a bouquet of flowers with a pink ribbon all presented eloquently on two silver platters (not real silver, of course). Both Thelma and Carina are still in school which one must pay for after grade 9 at the most often prohibitively expensive rate of $800 USD per year. We invited them aboard, served them lemonade, and asked what they wanted for a gift. “We just wanted to feed you” and so returning only a superficial scrape to their deep kindness, they were given some hair clips, which is the sort of thing they just wouldn’t buy for themselves here.

We talked back and forth and showed them pictures of Graham’s family while giving them insight into Maine’s four seasons. Carina is half Taiwanese from her father, who lives in the city of Honiara. While Thelma’s family is mostly in Peava, she departs tomorrow to see her grandparents in Choiseul province, two days by boat, who she has not seen since the age of four. The visit was brief and we exchanged emails for future contact. We sincerely hope our eyes and smiles expressed our true appreciation.

This and the four girls in their dugout paddling on the water this evening while singing beautiful local songs provide a striking contrast to teens in the states, giving sarcasm its place when jokingly saying “all these teens do is drive around and get drunk.”