Posted by: catamarantwooceans | October 19, 2010

A Happy Day!

11.10.10 – Monday – The first thing I did when I woke up at 0545 was to call Gili (it was 1945 of the 10th in Israel). My mother was scheduled to have some minor surgery, but at the age of 96 nothing is minor and I was worried. The moment she heard my voice she exclaimed:”Mazal Tov!” good luck, which is what you say when something very joyful has happened. “You are a grandfather once more!”. My daughter, Yael, gave birth to a baby girl, her first. The doctors gave her a target date – the 12th – but she tricked them and did it on the 10th of October 2010, 10.10.10, that’s a birthday I will never forget.                         “And your mother underwent the operation successfully, she is back at home and feeling fine!”.  I called my daughter and then my mother.  I was so happy for Yael and for Nir, her partner! I find it difficult to express it in words.

And then the day took its planned course. Down to the village with the goodies for Wati’s family and the fuel (which I took out of the Racor filter drain) to the chief. Serana and two other ladies placed their wares on the mat in one of the rooms and each of us fulfilled his role in the local economy by buying a few necklaces.


                            Pretty Serana


A pearl necklace for 5 Fijian dollars? That’s what Volkmar bought! They look like the real thing, but what do I know about pearls?

Next on the agenda was a visit to a bay on the eastern side of the island, where a World War 2 airplane is submerged in shallow water. Now we do not have a good chart for the place, so I anchored at what I thought to be the right spot, we went ashore and started searching for the trail that was supposed to lead to the site. After battling the bush and hills for half an hour we only got to a higher hill and understood that we were not at the right place. The time was close to mid-day and we still wanted to continue to the Blue Lagoon, about 10 miles away. We decided to give the airplane a miss.

Going out of the bay for the next destination brought the real Narewa bay into view. After a some deliberation we anchored again and went ashore, lugging our snorkeling gear on our backs. On the beach a group of pre-school children were having a picnic. Our arrival caused great joy for them and we were swarmed by smiling kids who wanted, and did help pull the dinghy ashore.

somo5  One of the teachers sent Wise, a boy of 14 to lead us to the trail. Wise was very interested in my blue Casio G-Shock, and after a few questions about its price and whether I had other watches, suggested that I give it to him. Sorry, Wise, No!

We came up to the beginning of the path, which was marked by an open hut, said goodbye to Wise and started walking. After a while the path became less defined and it did not take long for us to get lost. As the general direction was clear, we cut through thick bush and shrubs until we rejoined the narrow trail and came up to a place of habitation with few huts but nobody in sight. We walked along the beach trying to find an airplane underwater in a very big bay. I’ll cut this short: even after the inhabitants – a 74 old lady and her grandson appeared and gave us directions (there are two buoys, swim from the big to the small one and then another 20 meters and you’ll find it) it took us a very long time to find the small fighter plane, on which coral grew and clown fish frolicked. Frankly, I myself felt like a clown for being so close and not finding it.

When we went out the lady told us the story of the plane: It was in 1943. A flight of three machines was flying low over the island and one of them hit a coconut tree and crashed into the lagoon. The pilot survived and was taken by away by a sea-plane. She took out an old newspaper piece describing the find of a crashed P-39 on one of the islands. “The one here is the same” she said.

The way back took much less time but we got to “Two Oceans” at 1500 and thought it too late to proceed according to our original plan. So, after a quick lunch, which Volkmar produced (an Austrian version of “Shakshooka”) we motored back to Somosomo for the night. Our quiet evening was interrupted by some religious meeting that started with songs and music and ended by a fiery sermon blasting from loudspeakers. Luckily the believers go to bed early and silence reigned once more.

A happy, happy day!


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