The Last Day in a Maap Village in Yap, Micronesia
For the last few nights in in Yap, Danka had proudly prepared a bed for us in the bungalow on Joaquin's beach, which she has helped organize and construxct over the past year with him and several relatives and friends. It's a very nice, compact, traditional structure on stilts above the high tide line, so that at high tide the water sloshes around underneath you while you sleep. Mosquito netting, a cooler, waterhose shower and outhouse with plumbing and other amenities make it a bit nicer.
The final Monday was spent running arround town, moving things for Danka to get her somewhat closer to being moved out, and wrapping up all my accounts there in Yap. So the last day of Tuesday had . . . nothing.
I spent the day like a villager -- got up an had a snack, then got on a boat with Jay, Paul and Mark, and snorkeled and fished. I snorkeled and took pics while they spear-fished, though it soon became clear they were primarily turtle-hunting. There was to be a grand-opening celebration that evening for the house's christening or unveiling, and turtles were desired. They had plenty of fuel for the boat, which is not normal, from us. They caught 3 turtles and about 10 fish. I took a spear out the last couple of times and, well, made a few small fish swim faster briefly. I wasn't much of a threat with the spear. But it felt very different to be hunting . . . .
I also caught a sunburn, cursed haole white skin. Still, I was free to relax for the mid-afternoon until Danka returned from school. Then we met the Traditional Navigation Society students and chief navigator Cesario for a sunset cruise around the lagoon. I had not seen Cesario this whole year, despite him living literally next door. I asked him about his epic voyage early this year as navigator for the Hokulea from Hawaii through Micronesia and on to Palau and back to Yap -- he went 3 months without seeing his family. Plus all of the film crews and celebratory receptions they received on all the islands. His father, Mao Piailug, had taught him the art of traditional navigation in Satawal, and Mao is still alive though in porr health and diabetic on his home island on Satawal in Yap.
Mao lives on in Cesario's 4-year-old son, who ran around the canoe with no concerns at all. I asked Cesario if that was how he had been a a child -- he said all Satawal children were like that, just waiting for their turn to go out on a journey with the navigator. Danka was fascinated with this fearless child on the boat.
So we had the evening cruise on a handmade showpiece traditional canoe with one of the last traditional navigators remaining in the world. Then we returned to the bungalow for the feast of bumphead parrotfish sashimi, sauteed hawksbill turtle, papaya salad, taro and other island delights like Hite Beer.
And very early in the morning, it was time to fly to Palau.
The final Monday was spent running arround town, moving things for Danka to get her somewhat closer to being moved out, and wrapping up all my accounts there in Yap. So the last day of Tuesday had . . . nothing.
I spent the day like a villager -- got up an had a snack, then got on a boat with Jay, Paul and Mark, and snorkeled and fished. I snorkeled and took pics while they spear-fished, though it soon became clear they were primarily turtle-hunting. There was to be a grand-opening celebration that evening for the house's christening or unveiling, and turtles were desired. They had plenty of fuel for the boat, which is not normal, from us. They caught 3 turtles and about 10 fish. I took a spear out the last couple of times and, well, made a few small fish swim faster briefly. I wasn't much of a threat with the spear. But it felt very different to be hunting . . . .
I also caught a sunburn, cursed haole white skin. Still, I was free to relax for the mid-afternoon until Danka returned from school. Then we met the Traditional Navigation Society students and chief navigator Cesario for a sunset cruise around the lagoon. I had not seen Cesario this whole year, despite him living literally next door. I asked him about his epic voyage early this year as navigator for the Hokulea from Hawaii through Micronesia and on to Palau and back to Yap -- he went 3 months without seeing his family. Plus all of the film crews and celebratory receptions they received on all the islands. His father, Mao Piailug, had taught him the art of traditional navigation in Satawal, and Mao is still alive though in porr health and diabetic on his home island on Satawal in Yap.
Mao lives on in Cesario's 4-year-old son, who ran around the canoe with no concerns at all. I asked Cesario if that was how he had been a a child -- he said all Satawal children were like that, just waiting for their turn to go out on a journey with the navigator. Danka was fascinated with this fearless child on the boat.
So we had the evening cruise on a handmade showpiece traditional canoe with one of the last traditional navigators remaining in the world. Then we returned to the bungalow for the feast of bumphead parrotfish sashimi, sauteed hawksbill turtle, papaya salad, taro and other island delights like Hite Beer.
And very early in the morning, it was time to fly to Palau.