12 January 1984

Letter: Taking a Little Holiday

Letter 12 / 1 / 84

I'm sitting up in bed in our living room - we're in a shambles again. We ran out of floor paint before and didn't do our bedroom, and now at last the paint is here, and the turp's too, and we have the time and energy to get on with it.

We've been taking a bit of a break from actual work, though of course we are still well and truly in touch with the people - unlike people in some locations the people here do leave us alone if it seems that we want to keep to ourselves for a while. In fact, that has been largely our problem working here, persuading them to 'bother' us even a little bit.

Camping on Waier

We decided it was about time we took a camping holiday. The wet season has disappeared for the time being, the 'doldrums' are back, and I felt that with the mirror-smooth water maybe I could venture out in the boat at last.

So we went for a day-trip, half prepared to stay the night if we found somewhere we liked ...

As we approached Waier Island we saw turtle tracks on the beach and, feeling very intrepid, went ashore to poke for eggs.

Well, that turtle went for a long walk looking for somewhere to lay, but eventually we were sure we had the right spot. I poked with Peter's crayfish spear - until I broke the spear.

Peter dug a bit, but we weren't aware of how deep these turtles dig their nests.

Late that afternoon James Rice and some of his family came looking for eggs, having dug up three other lots elsewhere, and they poked really deep where we had been looking and found the eggs.

Unlike these people, we couldn't eat a couple of dozen each, so we just took a few and he had the rest.



Anyway, we had our screen tent with us, and we set that up right under a shady wongai tree on a lovely little beach on Waier, and decided to spend the night. Peter did some fishing and we had lovely barbecued snapper for lunch.

Inside the crater

Then we went exploring inside the crater of Waier.

You may remember from "Drums of Mer" the evil cult associated with "Waiat" on Waier - its no wonder superstition grew up around that place, its really creepy.

The whole island is just three steep sides of a rocky crater, in places it's worn away so it looks like statues glaring down at you.

There are all sorts of holes and caves, but they mostly take a bit of scrambling up to. We were camped on a little beach outside the crater, and the water (as it is around all of these islands) is crystal clear, the sand is fine and white.



But when you get inside the crater the water is murky and yellow.

On the beach the sand looks white, but just beneath the surface its black. The heat is intense from all the surrounding rocks.

Stepping into the rays

As Peter stepped out of the boat - he leapt right back - he had just missed stepping onto a stingray in the murky water.

He splashed with an oar and found there were three stingrays around the boat.

We ventured a few metres up the beach towards an interesting looking cave, but we found ourselves getting cooked so fast in the intense heat that we hurried back to the boat, deciding we would find a cooler time to explore in there, maybe when the wind is blowing into the crater.

We headed back to our little camp, and spent the afternoon feeling hot and sunburnt.

Sleeping with the Sand Man

When the sun finally gave in and went down, and we headed for our beds ... we discovered the problems associated with sleeping on/in exceptionally fine sand. There was just no getting rid of it, and when you are as sunburnt as we were, sand is not a welcome bed companion!

Alison had been restless all day - hated being carried around, wanted to explore on her own - and hadn't eaten her tea. So she woke up about every hour.

Peter would put a bottle in her mouth and then go out to check for turtles (as he had promised James he would turn one over for him if he saw one) and I would go out to the 'toilet', refill Alison's other bottle for the next shift, and try to get some of the sand out of the bed.

By the early hours both James and Alison had saturated themselves and the sleeping bag they were on, and of course both of them were (sunburnt and) covered in sand - and miserable!

By 5am we couldn't stand it any more, so we 'got up'.

Quick storm

We decided to go across in the boat and look at the other side of Dauar Island (which we'd never seen) and then head for home.

But we just got around Dauar and back to our camp in time to batten down before an approaching storm ... we suddenly wished we had our tent instead of the screen tent.

As it turned out there wasn't much rain, just a lot of wind directly into our faces, it was hard keeping the boat safely anchored.

After about an hour cooped up in our little screen tent we were released at last and came scurrying home. What a holiday!

We've left the screen tent there and intend to return to continue our holiday when we can iron out a few of the problems.

Fish at home

We have a couple of small fish for tea tonight. This is one kind that you have to fry, really hard, until the skin goes black. Then you pick the outside off and it's beautiful inside.

Funny how we have actually got used to some of these things.

Ducks and Drakes

We finally admitted to ourselves that we had six drakes and four ducks - pretty poor show when the guy who sold them to us said he was pretty sure they were all females.

We wanted to swap with anyone who had more ducks than drakes, but in the end we decided to sell off all six of the drakes ... and of course they were snapped up within a few minutes of that fact being known.

Really, you could sell anything in this place, just name the price.

Ron Day's Wedding

Last month there was a wedding - pretty rare in these parts.

The couple had both attended 'School of Australian Linguistics' (SAL) in Darwin, rather a doubtful organisation with government funding, and she became pregnant.

He is fairly religious (Anglican) and so decided that although they had made a mistake they would at least try to get things right now.

So last year we were among those invited to their engagement here, and now the baby is Alison's age and it was time for their marriage.

He is actually Ron Day, Barnie Day's son. In the meantime she has been 'restored' into the Anglican church, and confirmed by the bishop when he visited here.

With feasts here, its generally true that if you know it's on, then you are 'invited' to attend, but with this one we actually had an official invitation from Barnie. At the wedding feast we found (to our slight embarrassment because it gave us real problems with looking after the kids) that we were actually seated at the bridal table with the select rather than on the mats with the masses - we are not used to any sort of recognition here.

The Wedding Cake Debacle

The wedding was to have been on Friday, but when Barnie came to invite us on Thursday he told us it had been postponed until Saturday.

Then one of the ladies came to see me asking if I'd do the cake!

In the time between supply boats, and without warning, its very hard to come up with eggs and icing sugar. What a time of it we had! I didn't know what kind of cake was expected, but decided a (boiled) fruit cake would mean it would keep a day or two if there was another delay in proceedings. So I made a big (thin) rectangle and a little square to mount on top ... using egg powder, and most of my secret supply of dried fruit - I had to put in 'fruit medley' which has dried apples etc.

Then a plane came loaded with fresh 'goodies' (plums, apricots, cherries, lettuce ...) including eggs. This happens from time to time, but not on any regular basis. So I hurried over and bought some eggs. But when I got them home and tried to separate them and make royal icing, they were all slightly off and wouldn't separate. I dredged up three that I had before and had to make do with thin icing with no almond paste under it.

Well we managed to make a fairly presentable cake (all things considered) with four foil-covered cotton reels to rest the top tier on - and left it to set, to put it together at the last minute.

Overnight it did set a bit, while I had nightmares about rats and mice eating it, or ants getting into it, or finding the icing had all run off onto the floor ...

Saturday was hot, and the icing started to melt.

We emptied our tiny caravan (gas-powered) fridge and put it in there during the wedding service. Then we carried it carefully down to the Day's place and set up the tiers on the table. We sat at the wedding feast watching it gradually droop and drip - the top layer slowly sank down to join the bottom layer as the cotton reels sunk into the bottom cake.

Not even a taste

We didn't see them take it away and cut it up. We saw a plate of cake being passed around, but it was empty before it got to us, we never even got to taste it!

Time to dance

Of course, the festivities ended in dancing. James just had to be dressed up in his gear, so were Wilfred and his boys.

Wilfred was planning to do a dance with his boys, but they all fell asleep before the dancing started, so he went on with James instead. It took a bit of gumption on James' part, once or twice he hesitated and his lip quivered, but he saw it through to the end and went to bed a very proud boy.

Ali baby

Alison looks like she could walk in the next few weeks - but then she did take quite a few weeks to get her crawling act together. She often forgets what she is doing and lets go with both hands for a few seconds.

She is so tiring to look after. I wish I could get someone to take her from time to time.

James

And James is in full voice these days - wish we had someone to spend more time talking to him and listening to him, and reading his books to him.

He will spend as long as we will let him with his headphones on or in front of the radio/cassette player listening to his kindy tapes over and over. At least there he hears English, though his speech is still mostly Creole. "Yumi go now? Yu laiki dis pla?" - and all with that special Islander lilt to it.

Kids together

Together they are such a funny pair. They often just put their heads together and giggle for no obvious reason. Alison get very animated if she hears him coming, especially if we say "Here comes James!"

He still tends to try to copy her rather than just being himself, wants a bottle if she has one (and when they slept close together on Waier he kept pinching her bottles, which didn't help!) but we don't fuss about it and she's growing up so fast she'll soon be up with him anyway.

He has lots of special times too, with books or blocks, when she can't join in, and of course 'his' music on the tapes.

As for number three, things seem to be developing well despite early set-backs. The doctor's monthly visit is next week, so I guess I'll have another check-up then. According to my calculations I'm only 10 weeks yet, but according to finger measurements I'm at least 12 weeks, so it could be another baby elephant despite all our best efforts.

Clam guts



Last week Peter went out diving a few times with the chaps. I think we told you about the shark incident? The last time they went they came back without crayfish but loaded with clams and trocchus. We've really come to enjoy these delicacies, though Peter still won't try the (nice) soft part of the clam, only the tough muscle bit.