Cooks

The Cook Islands are an independent country, connected with New Zealand by their financial aid and technical assistance. Fifteen islands of the Cooks are scattered over nearly 2 million sq km over the Pacific, which lends itself to a lot of ocean in between.

We wanted to call at Suwarrow, an island that can be transversed by bare feet in 3 mins flat at the most narrow end. Tom Neil lived as a castaway on this island, writing "An Island To Oneself". Last run as a copra plantation back in the 30's, John and Veronica are caretakers now of the island. US $15,000 was found in a treasure box in 1855, so John asked Pete and me if we wanted to have a go at finding more. There wasn't any, but we had fond moments of taking rest periods when digging at night, sharing tales of our lives under swaying palms and a full moon. John's best tale was of surviving the last Pacific cyclone alone with his wife, Veronica, tied to palm trees, as waves crashed over the island and swirled about their feet. The freighter had never arrived to collect them in time.

Pete and I collected several interesting broken, small artifacts, and bits of bones while digging the secret treasure hole. Coconuts were hacked open to assuage our thirst. I felt like jungle Jane working under a searing hot sun, while imagining brilliant stones, metals or coins hidden behind any exposed root or clump of mud. A brief nap in the island hammocks restored our lagging energies.

Traveling companions were: the "Safari" teen kids (Richard and Andrew), Kate on "Ace", and Amy on"Pegasus". Hermit crab races, volleyball, and island exploring kept them occupied. Group dinners were organized around the old WWII military barracks with more guitar jamming and bongo sessions. Yoga was held every morning on the beach. The guys hit the waters to spearfish - the clear waters held an abundance of big fish. Sharks were plentiful, so a wary eye was kept out for any rogue wanderers of the deep.

Caretaker John invited Kate and me to join him for a Bird Island excursion to hunt the intrepid coconut crab. These huge crabs reside in few global spots and are protected - only a few are allowed to be hunted every year. It's a fierce game between hunter and crab. Kate, from "Carmelita", and I thrashed through the bush in search of their camouflaged holes hidden under thick mangrove roots or under blankets of palm fronds. She stood sentinel at the back end, blocking the crab from escaping, while I dove into the front end of the hole, using a stick for it to grasp the crab in its powerful claws, enabling me to yank him out. With a bit of shouting and screaming for encouragement, we both landed our first crab, taking careful aim to avoid their large pernicious claws that could snap any loose fingers.

That night a big feast was held for all the cruisers, trading yarns, and joining in song to the accompaniment of guitars.

Under Veronica’s direction, the cruising women gathered over a roaring fire to prepare coconut oil. Baskets of coconuts were first gathered, husked, and split with a machete. The fruit was then scraped from of the hard nut with a hand tool. Over a hot campfire, the shredded coconut was stirred in a heavy skillet until the coconut broke down into oil.