Past fields growing tapioca.  The established plants are in the background, the cuttings in the foreground.

Once the coconut milk was drunk David chopped a small piece from the side to make a spoon and cut a bigger hole in the top so we could scoop out the flesh. 

Because the coconut is still green the flesh is gelatinous (a recurring culinary theme indeed) rather than fibrous and really tasty if not necessarily appealing to look at…. (Cara from Moana Roa likes it though).

Suitably nourished we reached the freshwater pool.  Carol bravely overcame her strong dislike of gushy underfoot gloopy stuff that you have to paddle through to get into the water and was very glad she did.  Gorgeous temperature and a completely different feel to seawater.  She, and Hugh, left the jumping in of the cliffs to the young people.

After the swim we took another short dingy ride across the river to visit the site where the missionary John Williams was killed in 1889.  Or rather they killed him on the beach and then moved him to this site to be cut up.  He was the last missionary to be eaten although not the last to be killed – that was 1969.

The killing is not quite as random as it sounds however because the previous visitors to the island had come to raid their sandalwood and killed a number of islanders in the process.  The village decided that they would kill the next visitors as revenge.  Cannibalism was not quite the random killing and eating fest we had assumed either but was a highly structured ceremonial with only the senior men involved. 

On our way back we saw this young man sailing his home made boat on the end of a stick as he walked along the river bank.  Where toys are few you make, and enjoy, your own.