by Vicki Seymore
Two dugout canoes slid through the flat, shimmering water of the bay as the bare-chested men in them hailed us with their paddles.
“Throw your ropes,” they called. We did, despite a natural concern about the reliability of mooring balls – especially when there was only one in the bay, and we were in probably the most remote tropical waters in the world.
The two men smiled and looped us through the mooring ball.
“Don’t worry – it is very safe, and it can hold your weight. We made it properly. “
And after a quick conversation, we realized they knew what they were talking about, and the mooring was more than likely very solid.
One of the men, John, then formally greeted us. “Welcome to Roderick Bay. Chief John apologizes for not being here and has sent me to welcome you instead. Thank you for coming. I will come back soon.” And he paddled off to shore, and the small village we could see ashore was partly hidden between the trees.
We shut down the instruments and started to settle into anchor mode and chill mode. After a gnarly crossing of the Coral Sea from Bundaberg in Australia, we checked into the capital, Honiara. It had been a relief to get there after the heavy seas the last week, but it was definitely not breathtaking! However, once checked in, we headed straight to this wonderful spot.
We had just cruised here across the open waters of Iron Bottom Sound (so called because of the hundreds of Japanese and US ships lying on the sea bed following WWII). These, in stark contrast to the Coral Sea, must be the flattest waters I had ever been on – not one breath of wind and the sea reflecting the clouds in perfect formation. Dolphins? Yes. We were in one of the best places in the world for sighting all cetaceans. And they did become a common sight throughout the rest of our time here in the Solomon Islands.
After a few hours of very relaxed motor-sailing, we took a 90-degree turn into Sandfly Passage to head to this bay and anchorage on Nggela Sule Island. In the passage, we picked up a swift current that took us through a valley of lush green hills and little villages hiding between the trees on the shoreline. Now we were happy to be at our first anchorage and able to relax.
Half an hour later, John returned in a very beautifully laden and festive-looking dugout. He pulled up to the stern and proceeded to start handing us our “welcome gifts.”
“We want to welcome you to Roderick Bay. These are for you.” Somehow, he had counted us, and there was one stunning gift for each of us. A fresh coconut ready to drink. But this was no ordinary coconut. This was the most beautifully decorated fresh coconut I have ever seen or will ever see. Each coconut had a straw, not paper or plastic, but made from the stem of a local plant. And the ‘straw’ was decorated with layers of beautiful red and white hibiscus flowers. It was nothing short of utterly magical. And the coconut milk within was, of course, fabulously fresh and refreshing.
John then passed Captain Matt another piece of art – a beautiful floral wreath. It quickly took pride of place on the cockpit table. “I hope you like them. Tell us if you need anything, and you are welcome to come ashore whenever you want.”
Over the next week, we played football with the kids onshore, hiked to the top of the hills behind with Chief John (who returned the next day and had come out to greet us immediately), learned what plants they used for what diseases – including covid, saw the most incredibly accurate bow and arrow shooting from a young hunter, learned about the building and thatching processes used to build the homes dotting the shoreline, went with the villagers to church in the next village over the hill, explored the nearby wreck of the MS World Discoverer – a former cruise ship, bought beautiful fruits and vegetables and mushrooms from the local villagers, and got our first taste of the incredible snorkeling on offer in the Solomons.
All this cost us nothing, although of course we bought food and anything else we reasonably could from the villagers. Chief John was a mine of information about local politics, corruption, the wishes and hopes of the village, the societal structure, and the impending environmental devastation from the leaching of the oils from all those warships and the MS World Discoverer. He also showed us the much cherished “Visitors Book” with pictures and messages from all the yachts that had been to the bay since the 1970s – not many at all.
The grand finale came the night before we left. If we thought the welcome was impressive, the farewell was even more so. It was a potluck – the villagers and we all brought food alike. But the ladies set up a wonderful floral stage for this final feast and happiness. Floral columns and arches as we came ashore and around the table, floral decorations and conch shells to eat from covering the big table, and benches around it all ready for us to share.
Everyone came from the youngest baby to the oldest grandmother. We had a song, and we feasted on all the local delicacies, while the locals happily ate everything we brought to the table. The adults chatted, while the kids stared, then giggled, especially with the great amusement of using my phone to take selfies! It was always to remember. The generosity of spirit and gifts from these people with virtually nothing by our western standards is unforgettable.
Can you beat this welcome at Roderick Bay? I’d love to hear if you can. It was floral, it was festive, it was genuine, and it was just plain beautiful!
This Post Has 3 Comments
What gifts did you leave with the islanders who were so generous and welcoming?
Great reading this wonderful story!.
Your loyal reader, and constantly learning sailor,
That was a wonderful story about the beauty of native peoples that lies across the sea in remote locations! Wish I had been aboard! But enjoyed your comments and photos–from back here in my office in chilly CT. I knew Jodie and Bob Bitchin’ from the many boat shows we all participated in. Still
making custom flags as The Sailbag Lady in Madison, CT. You have done a marvelous job of inspiring us all! Cheers, Bettina