Coconut Crab

It had been just over two weeks since my hernia surgery.  I had restricted my activities as much as I could without just lying around.  We were arriving in Vanuatu.  Espiritu Santo, Vanuatu. Espiritu Santo means Holy Spirit.  It seemed like a good day to go for a walk.  Ellie, Dougie, Sue, Lyn, and I were going to walk into town and hit an ATM for local currency.  Then, whatever.

Some people joked about being in a container port again.  But this is how we travel, and islands in the middle of the ocean need to make maximum use of their resources.  Most days, this was where everything they imported came in.  Today, we were the exception.  Tourists wandering through the Pacific.

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The sound of paddles striking bamboo tubes filled the air as we left the gangway from deck two. The source of the rhythmic tune was a group of locals dressed in native attire. They were protected from the tropical sun by a blue awning like you would see at flea market stalls.  The melody was familiar, and I recognized it as “ Mary Had a Little Lamb.”  Cute.

Beyond the terminal, vendors had set up to sell us trinkets, shirts, and magnets.  Then there were the taxi drivers offering to take us to other parts of the island or just into town fifteen minutes’ walk away.  Wanting to walk and not wanting trinkets, we politely declined their offers, and our little group took to the street.  The pleasure of a sidewalk and the intermittent shade of the flamboyant Royal Poinciana tree made the journey easier and more picturesque.  It did not make it any cooler though.

The town had shops and such along both sides of the road.  We wandered in and out of a few while looking for an ATM.  The fresh bread being delivered made our mouths water in spite of having breakfast on the ship only an hour before.  It seems that most banking and payments are made through the ATMs, where several were available and most had lines.  Eventually, we got our money with appropriate caution to not make ourselves victims of petty crime as had occurred more than once to fellow travelers.

After a refreshing limeade and browsing the real estate office front window, we made our way to the open-air market.  Tons of fresh fruit and vendors chatting all around us.  Jackfruit bigger than my foot and peanuts looking like they had just been pulled out of the ground were just a few of the regular items on sale.

By now the heat was pretty oppressive, and we had agreed we would meet up with Amanda and RJ for lunch at a pizza place.  Not exactly local fare, but if friends want pizza and beer, there are worse things to do for lunch.  We went to the spot they suggested and then got the message to meet them somewhere else.  The Sandbar restaurant, about halfway back to the ship.  So we wandered along a dirt road along the waterfront and found the tikis on either side of the entrance to the place.

The manager told us that if we wanted to have pizza here, it would be about an hour because they were just lighting the fire for the outdoor oven.  In the meantime, there was food and drinks available at the outdoor tables under the shade of the giant thatched umbrellas.

Amanda and RJ were there, and they were already seated looking up at the center timber, which was wrapped in wicker-like bamboo strips holding the umbrella over the huge table.  Hanging onto the back of the post was a big brown lump the size of a softball with long, pointed legs holding onto the bamboo-wrapped pole.  It was a crab.  A massive crab.  A coconut crab.  I had seen this animal a time or two before on television, but never in real life.  If it landed on you, it would seriously hurt.  If it got a finger into one of those claws, you just might lose a digit.

I ordered a Tusker beer and raised a toast to our hard-shelled host.  We made sure to leave the area under his bulk clear of any breakables.

Being lunchtime, we started to put in orders for food and thanked our good fortune for finding cover just as a tropical downpour demonstrated the effectiveness of a well-made palm thatched roof. Apparently, these roofs can last around six to twelve years.  Asphalt roofs fifteen to thirty.  Cost of materials? Either way, it made me think about the Enchanted Tiki Room at Disneyland.

Other people were there from the ship now too.  Melody and John ordered the lobster.  RJ and Amanda were told they needed to try the coconut crab.  Amanda asked what it tasted like. They said it tasted like crab, so she ordered it.  Ellie went for the pizza and, since I was trying to avoid lactose for a while to see if it helps my cough, I ordered a burger.

After putting in my order, the rain stopped and I took that break to wander around and check things out.  There was sugar cane planted as a giant ornamental grass and lush plantlife all around.  The main pavilion had the pizza oven glowing with a Dante’s Inferno inside at the back with smoke wafting through the large open space.  I got back in time to catch my burger coming off the grill and get something more to drink.

On the subject of beverages, there is the local drink, kava.  This is not the cava sparkling wine of Spain.  It is an intoxicating beverage traditionally   made by chewing and spitting the juice from the kava plant into a bowl.  It is considered more pure if the chewing was done by children or attractive women.  Kava was available here and was processed in a more mechanical method with no saliva involved. Of course, I wanted to try it.

As my burger arrived, so did the two cups of cool, brown liquid.  The smell was not appealing.  The taste was a bit like bitter dirt with a hint of celery.  The effect was a numbing of the lips and tongue and a scrunched-up nose from Ellie.  She never finished it, but I did.

The conversation with John next to us went to the purported properties of the concoction.  Since he was a physician, his knowledge was given some weight.  The supposed euphoria never did manifest itself, but I wasn’t going to chase after that buzz with a bunch more bitter juice.

Amanda seemed concerned that the crab might become a problem with food arriving at the table and asked the server if it could be relocated.  They obliged and promised that this one would not be served as a meal here.

As we ate, the rain began again.  Pizza, cava, and beer were enjoyed or sampled by many at the table.  This was my first time out since my surgery, and we decided that at the next break in the rain, we would make our way back to the ship.  And we did.

Amanda and RJ agreed it was time to go back. So did Lyn and Maui Jim.  Before we had gotten far, the rain started up again.  We had brought them for sun protection, but they were serving a different purpose on our twenty-minute walk back. Lyn was the only one that had no umbrella, but Jim made sure to give her some cover under his.  For a while, the rain was fun.  Long before we got to the port, the road and sidewalk were becoming so flooded that the fun was over.  A quick look between me and Ellie confirmed that the taxi coming from the other direction would be getting flagged down.  Right now.

We were dropped off right in front of the terminal, and the musicians we had seen on the way out had given up their post.  Rain has a way of doing that.  It was another good day.  And we went home to our ship for the night.

Tomorrow we would be going to a private island.  How cool?