day 152-154: losing count
Jamie here, despite not exactly having a full schedule, bluebird has still fallen off the blog wagon. So hello we are back online. We’ve been mincing around in Waya island for a few days. There’s plenty to do including getting lost in a rainforest and almost dying, getting lost in long grass and almost dying, accidentally giving away the only fish we caught, going spearfishing and coming back empty handed and more. We’ve found our old friends Pania who kindly shared their recent fish they caught as well as some kava milo combination. Back on bluebird the following night we had a dance party under the stars. Today I had a quiet movie day after a quick walk up a ridge to look for wild goats (three seen). WOD: creep. Creep - a name given to a creepy person Used in a senny: the difference between a pancake and a creep is that a creep is thinner.
Miriam: Happy birthday to our eye in the sky, our dearest mum, the incomparable Jennie Crum! We love you! To celebrate here we were incredibly lazy today. Matt and I went to shore and collected mangos instead of going to church. The church here is a Methodist church and everyone is expected to attend; we were asked if we were coming several times as we walked through the village and evaded with polite smiles like the heathens we are. My friend Mary stopped us to tell us a cautionary tale about a westerner getting lost and dying on this island which is why we should always take a guide; our crew might be starting to alarm the locals and make a reputation for ourselves. Then came naps, snacks, writing and reading, and finally Pania came over and took us to the beach! Abel (my 4 year old buddy) and I played real hard, worked on swimming, and charmed the locals which resulted in us being given three pieces of cassava cake with custard.
Yesterday we made plans with Pania to hike to a huge waterfall but they move much faster than we do in the mornings so Matt and I rushed in a bit later, somehow got on the wrong trail, and persevered anyways. The trail petered out and I chose to just go through the bush which is always harder than you think it’s going to be. You would think I would’ve learned, but no, alas, I have not. Crawling through 8 foot tall cane grass down a steep slope which popped me out right at the top of the epic waterfall was only the beginning. Then came another bush bash that had me rather cranky with my life choices but it all became entirely worth it when I popped out into a magical deep pool framed by waterfalls and filled with crayfish. I lounged there for a while and then had the most delightful couple of hours working my way down the stream from deep pool to waterfall, bathing in them all. Massive sturdy vines and knobbled sticky rock made the climb down an absolute delight, a low risk puzzle that had me giddy with climbing glee. Mango breaks under each plentiful wild tree kept me fueled and I finally popped out on the trail we were supposed to have taken in the first place and wound my way through the fields back to the dinghy and home to Bluebird. The sunset dance party on the foredeck followed by stargazing and stories topped off a fantastic day.
The honourable mention for day 152 was rest and recovery from our misadventure the day before followed by a long magical solo snorkeling mission that featured a ride home to the boat from another local friend when he saw me lazing in the shallows after flippering around for hours trying to muster up the energy to swim home. These people are so good to us. Dinner at Pania that evening of delicious fresh Spanish Mackerel steaks and sashimi was incredible; Jamie has been fishing nonstop ever since. We’ll try and start blogging more regularly, these days are just packed.
Matt: Bashing through the tall grass is like stomping through snow, if snow could also cut your toes - I mean I guess with snow one is also wearing shoes so who knows but anyway a lot warmer in the tall grass and the view was really good from the ridge where Miriam went rogue, repelling down the slope to even taller, equivalent of a blizzard-type grass. Did not follow but some black and white birds thought I could be angling for their nest and they made for good company squawking, hovering and generally carrying on. No waterfalls to speak of, more like a rock trickle on the return trip with a little foot soaking bowl but imagine how good that felt with cut toes
Bluebird out!