Walk with Joseph
Beach Walk with Joseph
Scott-Free in Albert Cove – exactly what I signed up for. Beauty and quiet.
Tucked in behind the reef that shelters the bay, visible at low tide.
Ashore after lunch Maj [aka Chris] “made a step for mankind” pressing the dinghy anchor into the sand.
Maj and I scuffed about on the beach watching the speed the tiny crabs could gallop. The boys went and did scout stuff. Two chops and a piece of climber became the perfect thirst-quencher. Steve got straight to it but Bear needed help before he flew solo. No need to carry heavy water bottles but not certain they could cut the correct thing, both did manage to get a significant amount down their tee shirts. Joseph invited them both to go on a dusk to dark spear fishing adventure and both were very keen until the word “shark” was heard.................
Joseph came sloshing toward us in wellies that have long been considered in the ‘one careful owner’ bracket. His welcome was hearty with a sunny smile as he introduced his daughter, Teresa. He bade us follow him to his house where we met friends in for a days fishing, his wife Maria, Uncle Bill and an assortment of dogs and pigs. The family stay for a month at a time before going by boat to Nuku to sell copra and buy necessities. Having said our greetings, Joseph led us on a beach walk. The picture above is not a Bounty Bar advertisement, Joseph actually shinned at speed up the tree to hack off a fresh coconut each. Pity he is wearing a green tee shirt.
A bit of cropping and a jaunty dangle and we could see Joseph more clearly.
Expert use of his machete and the boys were soon enjoying fresh coconut water. Maj posed with what Joseph called “coconut jelly”, I do prefer the dry ‘coconut shy’ flesh but this did make for a softer, juicier change and less indigestion.
After our walk we all settled in the house and met Angela, little Steve and big brother Ben. The house had an upper level in one corner with a bed and mossie net. We sat in the large open plan area on woven coconut matting, clearly we have to practise getting on the floor with a little more dignity just as Bear showed how to fall ‘like a tree’. Us ladies sitting with feet to one side brings certain pins and needles, then we all groan as we come upright. Outside the house was the cooking hut, no larder, no electrickery, sign of a toilet or any mod cons - other than a few cooking pots.
No chaps in red pyjamas wearing green crash helmets but a kingfisher did sit for us and we did see some swiftlets and some doves in plain brown uniforms. Time for beer o’clock on Beez. Later on, the fisherman came out to see us and we gave them a few litres of petrol and oil for their outboard and wished them a successful expedition. Off they roared laughing and joking, so lovely to hear.
At nine o’clock the boys returned and presented us with some of their catch, sufficient for supper tomorrow. We in turn gave them one of our pre-prepared goody bags, thanked them for their hospitality, then went to the task of saddling up the crabs. I only whispered the word pot and all hell broke loose. Later, I can say that my claw picking days must have been some time ago – judging by the kitchen cabinets - just as well I don’t eat them - I have to say I am a bit partial to a parrot fish fillet.
What did you do at twenty three hundred, Pepe, I hear you ask..... Oh I washed Bears hammer, dried it and put it back in the tool shed............... Night night then.
ALL IN ALL SMASHING TO VISIT BUT I NEED MY CREATURE COMFORTS