Bake-off and Rummykub in Ile Casey, Baie de Prony, New Caledonia
Harmonie
Don and Anne Myers
Sun 12 Oct 2008 03:11
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22:21.415S 166:50.518E
We left Ile des Pins on Wednesday, 9/24 and sailed
a beautifully calm forty miles through the New Caledonia lagoon northwest to
Prony Bay on Grand Terre, the big island of New Caledonia, with
Storyteller. Prony Bay is a narrow, very sheltered finger of water
with many small islands and mini-bays on the southwest coast of Grand
Terre. We found a nice parking spot on the lee side of Ile Casey (Casey
Island), where a few other boats that we had met on the Isle of Pines were also
parked. Picture 1 is the view from Casey Island of Amazing Grace (British
boat) with Harmonie behind. Casey Island and its surrounding waters
are a nature reserve, and the island itself is now a park with walking trails
crisscrossing its tiny, mostly wooded area. Mostly wooded because in its
previous lives, the island was first mined for nickel and
later was the site for a small resort - now abandoned, but most
of which is still standing without even so much as a broken window.
At night from our anchorage next to Casey
Island, we noticed that the sky to the northwest was glowing. It took us a
minute or two or three to realize that what we were looking
at was the reflection of the Noumea city lights in the night sky
above. Until then, we had gone a full five months (since Tahiti) without
having our view of the nighttime sky obscured by city lights. It's
amazing how such a thing looks out of place when you aren't used to it.
When we turned to the southeast, we saw a similar glowing nighttime sky, but
this time we determined that it was caused by the nickel mining operation going
on in that area. Unlike the semi-cheerful glow of the Noumea city lights,
the industrial glow emanating from the mountains to the
southeast looked mysterious and a bit evil - like Mount Doom in
the Land of Mordor. Luckily for us, no giant evil eye or undead horsemen
came looking for us in our cozy little anchorage and we made it through
all three nights unscathed. Speaking of nickel mining...As mentioned
previously, New Caledonia is the site of one of the largest nickel
deposits in the world. All good of course except that the
mining leaves behind large patches of naked red earth that from a
distance look like open, bleeding wounds - open, bleeding wounds that never heal
that is. Picture 2 is one such site on tiny Casey Island. It seems
improbable that the amount of nickel obtained from this small area on this
small island was worth the effort it must have taken to dig it up and transport
it down the island's slope to the water and away. Someone must have been
excited about the idea though because they did a nice job
of ravaging the top of the island and leaving the bloody
dirt guts behind.
During our stay at Casey Island, the weather turned
a bit chilly and we experienced our first truly and fully rainy day
since.....since I can't remember when....before we reached the tropics about a
year ago maybe? Also, the temperature dipped below 70 for the first
time since we arrived in the tropics and not only did we have to pull out a
blanket for our bed, but Don's giant wool socks and slippers came out of
their hiding place as well. Yup, in the cool mornings, Don felt the need
to go for the full foot regalia - giant wool socks (normally used for
skiing) with very substantial slippers over the giant wool socks.
This entire foot warming ensemble was worn with shorts of course. Now that
I look back on it, a picture probably would have been a good idea.
So, you may be asking yourself, what exactly do
boaters do when the weather turns chilly and it rains all day? First, a
bake-off. Because only certain foodstuffs are acceptable to bring into New
Zealand due to their strict quarantine and health regulations and because we'll
be hauling the boat in a matter of weeks and leaving it in New Zealand for the
three months we plan to spend at home in Syracuse, NY, it was decided that all
the miscellaneous food ingredients we've been hauling around since Baltimore
should be used up. Apparently Sue on Storyteller came to the same
conclusion at the same time and although no rules or guidelines were
officially discussed, agreed upon or planned, the bake-off began. I
started with English muffins. Sue countered with cheese muffins. I
cranked out a batch of ginger cookies. Sue dropped off half of a
sticky date pudding (not to be confused with what Americans would call
pudding...the English and those severely influenced by the English - that being
the Australians and New Zealanders - call many different desserts puddings,
even though they more truly resemble cakes). Shortly after the sticky
date pudding (cake), John arrived in his dinghy from Storyteller bearing
freshly baked bread rolls presented beautifully in a cloth-lined basket. I
gave up. Threw in the dish towel. Conceded defeat to Sue. The
bake-off was over. One could argue that we were all winners in the end
though. We successfully used up our store of molasses, shortening, wheat
flour and honey. God only knows what Sue used up on Storyteller. A
dent must have been made in their stores, but every time we see them they claim
that another bunch of 'tins' (cans) were found with several bottles of gin or a
cask of rum in some long forgotten storage locker or hiding place - all
purchased before they crossed the Atlantic nearly a year ago. We suspect
they've got even more tins, booze and dried plums lurking in the bottom of the
bilge somewhere, which hopefully Sue or John will discover before the New
Zealand Quarantine Inspectors do.
The second rainy day boater activity was an
introduction and subsequent addiction to the game of Rummykub. If you have
never played Rummykub, it's like the card game gin rummy - gin rummy on
steroids. It's played with tiles (like Scrabble) instead of cards, two
'decks' of tiles instead of one and all kinds of good rules that make it
more interesting than the card game. We played a bunch of times
during our rainy stay off Casey Island with Storyteller, and since then have
kept a running series of games going. For two non-game players like Don
and I, it's surprising just how far we have been sucked into the black hole of
Rummykub addiction in only a few short weeks.
On Saturday, 9/27, the rain slacked off to a steady
drizzle and we weighed anchor with Storyteller for the thirty mile trip to
Noumea, land of French civilization and temporary home of four other rally
drop-out boats (Lady Kay, Southern Princess, Basia and Williwaw). We
motored into an unusual northwest wind and through patches of fog, the likes of
which we hadn't seen since Maine. Picture 3 was taken along the way just
as the fog was lifting. The pretty New Caledonian hills are shown complete
with their bleeding, never healing, nickel mining wounds.
More on the rally drop-out reunion in Noumea
later.
Anne
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