Homeward Bound

Homeward Bound

On Friday morning I woke at 6:30am to the sound of an outboard motor, and knew that I was waking to my last day on Nanumea.  The outboard motor was the sound of one of the launches from the MV Naviga II ferry/supply ship, announcing the arrival of this ship outside the American passage – only one week, and then one more day, later than originally scheduled.  (The extra day had been needed to complete unloading goods at Nanumaga.) 

So time for a few last chores, and to arrange permission to climb up the church steeple with Heather – the views from here give some impression of the Nanumea island.  Here is the view looking north, with the lagoon on the right, the sea on the left, and the American passage dug out of the reef at the end of the island:

And here is the view looking south – the electricity generating station is on the edge of the village in this direction – then it is jungle and pigs, as the island curves round the lagoon on the left:

Here is the view looking east across the lagoon – immediately below the church is the village community hall, then the school playing field and the primary school:

And here is the MV Naviga II, waiting to take me home:

I had been told that I should be down at the wharf by 4:00pm – it is difficult to tell how many of these people are waiting to get on the ferry, and how many are just hanging around:

It was obvious from the timber still being unloaded manually, plank by plank, that it would be some time before the Naviga set sail:

But the story was that they wanted all passengers loaded onto the ship while it was still daylight and high tide.  The good news is that my name is included in the passenger list, with cabin 3A assigned – well done Heather.  (The cabin has not been paid for, but I am assured I can pay for it at the Govt offices once I get to Funafuti.) The other good news is that Fulani, one of the TEC officials, is travelling on the same ferry, and so he will look after me to some extent.  Fulani finally decides we should board a launch, which looks like it might be less crowded –  there is no organization around the loading of the launch - it is sort of a polite scrum, until there is general agreement that it is full enough.  Here are some launch pictures:

I don’t think the locals actually book to travel on the ferry – it is just a matter of getting on.  Of course, since the ferry does a round trip of several islands, there are already many people on the ship.  Most of the locals travel in the open back section of the ship, sitting and sleeping on the mats, pillows, etc. they have brought:

They also bring their own food – much of this is in white buckets (ex breakfast cereal) with their name scrawled on it.  The corridors on the ship also fill up with people sleeping on mats.

None of the cabins seem to have any identification, so it takes some time to work out which is cabin 3 – there are two bunk beds and a day bench, and a porthole to provide some air.  But most importantly this is a first class cabin, and so it has an ensuite toilet/ shower (other first class aspects of the accommodation are less obvious to discern).  It takes some time to work out who my cabin companion is, but in the meantime he has several mates who appear to have his permission to use the ensuite facilities.

As a booked passenger, with a cabin, I qualify to eat in the ship’s mess.  After the evening meal I go up on deck to watch the unloading and loading progressing.  My interest in all of this is in my hope that we don’t spend extra days either here or at Niutao (our scheduled stop), thus compromising my schedule to get on the plane out of Funafuti on Tuesday.  Anyway, there is nothing I can do about it, down to my hot cabin to try and sleep – when I wake in the middle of the night we are on the move, so all good.

Next morning we arrive at Nuitao.  A major issue here is the poor shipping infrastructure – I got on an early launch, and it was high tide, so the launch was able to virtually get right up to the beach.  Here are the passengers on my launch wading ashore:

Note that the post in the water marks where the channel has been cut in the reef – even at high tide this channel is required.  But the unloading continued all day, and here is what it looks like once the tide has gone out – the cutting in the reef is now clearly visible, and acting as a rudimentary harbor:

But all the goods have to be manhandled across the slippery reef and up the beach – all very labour intensive and time consuming.  It is interesting to see what is being unloaded.  Cardboard boxes of frozen chicken (remember we are in 30+ temperatures):

Ice Cream:

Eggs:

Mounds of rice:

They delayed unloading the barrels of diesel until the tide came in again – by that time I was back on the ship and did not see how they got these up the beach and on to the high ground.  There was also several large bundles of building timbers, and roofing iron, all manhandled up somehow.

On this trip there was also a lot of emergency equipment being unloaded to be stored in the Red Cross Emergency shed.  There were tents:

Family cooking kits, with pots and plates etc:

Plus a lot of other unlabelled emergency gear.  To be stored for the next 100-year cyclone!

So when the tide came back in, the passengers were taken back out to the ship:

 Back into the scrum:

But the loading and unloading continued into the night – here are empty gas cylinders being backloaded:

And, of course, lots of empty diesel drums:

These guys work hard – they had been going since about 9:00am – and I understand they finished around midnight (by which time I was long in my cabin).  And the work requires a lot of care – several times the guys on the launch end up in the sea when a load swings their way.

It was not a very well kept secret that the ferry was also going to do a brief stop at Vaitupu, for some important passengers (they did not want to encourage more less important Vaitupu passengers).  There still appeared to be about two launches full of Vaitupu passengers.  We were all allowed ashore for a few hours.  The interesting thing here is how much better the shipping infrastructure is on this island.  There is still a cutting through the reef, which is only navigable by launches, but, once through the reef, there is a proper harbour for the launches to dock at.  Here is the harbour from the sea:

And here is the harbour from the shore::

The return trip to the ship was in the dark:

On Monday morning we arrived back at Funafuti, where the ship can dock right up to the port.  Here is a welcome stack of empty flatracks, which indicates that the Baldur has left for Nanumaga:

It was good to see that the project to fill in the borrow pits has progressed, from filling in the garbage pits, to filling in around the houses:

On Tuesday morning my flight arrives on time to take me to Fiji:

Unfortunately the driver of the fuel truck had not got out of bed – so our departure was delayed somewhat until he could be roused and the plane refueled.  This flight goes to Suva, then there is a long delay before the flight to Nadi.  On Wednesday morning I get the good news that my seat has been upgraded to business class from Nadi to Sydney – quite a change from travelling on the Nivaga:

But I leave you with a view of the completed solar power station on Nanumea:

Nanamea Celebrations

Nanamea Celebrations

The 16^th of July is the day to celebrate the building of the church on Nanamea – constructed from 1931 to 1937, when there was only about 200 islanders, and before there was any mechanisation on the island, or access through the reef into the lagoon.  This is calculated to be the church’s 84^th birthday.  The celebrations started with bells ringing at 3:30am, announcing a service in the church at 4:30am – having sat through a service in Tuvaluan on Sunday, we did not go to this service.  But during the day we got a very nice invitation for the whole team to attend the evening celebrations in the village hall, starting at 18:50.

We were given a place of honour on the “inner circle”, to the left of the priest, and opposite the kaupule members:

We were instructed by the kaupule secretary:

that we were expected to give a speech, after the head kaupule had spoken – it seems there was general agreement that, as the oldest member of the team, I should give the speech.  The service started with a hymn, then prayers, then the speeches.  There is some form of protocol round these speeches, which I haven’t fully grasped, but I think anyone can speak – there is an opening speaker, and a closing speaker, and in between anyone can speak.  Remember that everyone is sitting on the floor, so once someone starts struggling to their feet, they have sort of grabbed the next speaking position – but there is no rush in between speakers – part of the protocol appears to give everyone time to think about what they want to say.

After the speeches the food was uncovered, and once again we were given the honour of being among the first to select our food.  The food table was so long I took a picture from one end:

and then the other end:

just in case you were unable to see the enormouty of it.  There was everything you could think of there, and lots of things you couldn’t think of – lots of fish, pork, chicken, native birds, rice, coconuts, and various vegetable things,  The fish and native birds are mostly cooked whole.  Here is the team eating:

Floor service came round with coconuts on little standy things for each of us:

And this service continued all night.  As each person finished, the plate was taken away and a wash bowl and towel provided to wash hands – eating with fingers is the normal procedure.  Once everyone in the inner circle had got our food, the outer circle took what they wanted – but even after this it was difficult to see that much food was gone.

We could see activities outside both ends of the hall – people in fancy dress etc – and eventually a big rectangular drum board was brought out to each end. Then the two teams – red and green, north and south (?) started assembling.  Big guys round the drum board, with others sitting round them, and in the back, two lines of dancers, one male, one female – but all dressed in grass skirts and colourful ribbons. Everyone wears a head band of intricately woven greenery and flowers (these alone must have taken hours to make), and a necklace of greenery.  Again, not sure of the protocol here, but these can be given away to others – Heather was bestowed by the head TEC guy early on, but he was a key drummer in the green team, so maybe the garlands were an incumberance for him.  But eventually all the team were decked out in their finery:

Here is one of the drums being beaten - in the top left corner is the bare-headed guy who gave Heather his head-dress before starting to beat the drum:

The red team started – the words are repititous, but start slow, and build up in volume and speed, and with key changes, builds to a crescendo – then starts again:

Sometimes the two lines of dancers swap over, with the boys coming to the front:

and sometimes the girls at the front:

For each team it seems to be a bit of an endurance test, until they all collapse in a heap – then the other team takes over:

And ere is the green team a bit later with Martin (in blue) joining in:

But I am also reminded of the famous lines:

    The piper loud and louder blew

    The dancers quick and quicker flew

    The reeled they set they crossed and cleekit

    Till ilka carlin swat and reekit

Each team had a cheer leader – here is the red team leader:

And here is the green team leader:

And no, I have not got the colours confused!

This went on for over two hours – it was an amazing performance – but it did get a bit repetitive.  The performers obviously had a great time, especially the male dancers – and it was good to see that our deaf and dumb companion, Eitsi, was a well-accepted member of the green team.

With some final speeches the performance ended about 10:30.  We were invited to stay for the dancing to follow, but bed was beckoning – maybe Roger stayed for the dancing.

I leave you with more pictures of the male dancers: