A New Island

by Nick Niels Sanders

  The Evening Meal

  The job of finding places was complicated by the impaired lighting provided by the tiki torches, but nothing motivates performance like hunger. Soon everyone was seated and supper was being served. The appetizer was charcoal grilled calamari strips served with savory sauces placed in small containers on the plate set in front of each diner: a spiced drawn butter, a garlic aioli, a cocktail sauce and a slice of lemon. Each plate was accompanied by a glass of sauvignon blanc. As the passengers began to be accustomed to the light, they realized what they had already suspected – none of them had ever been seated at table for a meal with any of the other couples at the table.

  At one table, Valerie and Michelle found themselves seated with James and Maria and the Howlands. Maria they knew; James and the Howlands they did not know. Valerie was pleased to encounter another healthcare professional on the trip, and a few moments of discussion cemented her opinion that James was one of the best she had ever met. They had a lot to talk about and began to wander off into medical discussions, only to be brought back again by Michelle and Maria, who were intent on finding things to talk about that could involve all of them. It did not take long to draw the discussion of their previous AquaMarine Cruise out of the Howlands, and to be regaled with stories of the adventures they had managed to cram into a short cruise.

  At another table, the Fullers, the Kirkpatricks and the Winters were having an interesting challenge to find topics of conversation that would involve all six of them. George and Mark had already established a mutual interest in American professional sports, but this topic hardly included the Kirkpatricks and also left Joan and Julia on the margin. However, they hit on making comparisons among San Francisco, Los Angeles and London, a topic in which all six took a lively interest and which kept them involved through the supper.

  At the next table, the Carneys, the Applebees, Susan and Marcella were seated together. The search for conversational topics was wide ranging but failed to find a single topic that would interest both the Carneys and Susan. Marcella was quietly attentive to Susan throughout the meal and said virtually nothing. They spent some time talking about Tasmania, always a favorite when the Carneys were around, but also spent time talking about the differences and similarities of the economic situations in London and Sydney, a topic to which the Carneys were scarcely able to contribute a syllable.

  At the fourth table, Jim and Ron found themselves seated with the Joneses and the Kershaws. Eloise had wanted some man to flirt with, and was totally frustrated. If Marilyn had wanted someone to flirt with, Marshall was more than enough to fulfill her desires, and Jeff found himself keeping a jealous eye on his wife’s banter with the man from Hong Kong. Finding a topic of conversation that could involve all of them seemed hopeless until Jim started talking about music, finding that everyone at the table was interested in music, and would join the conversation eagerly. Late in the meal, they switched off to art when music began to slow down, and the conversation again picked up dramatically.

  At the last table, the Pinkersons and the Taylors were seated with Paul and Marybeth. Even with Paul’s careful eliciting of news about west Australia, the Pinkersons were adamantly silent for most of the supper. This left Marybeth with an opportunity to learn from the Taylors about New Zealand, or to listen to Paul talk again about his knowledge of the Fijian culture and his reasons for being on the cruise. Since she gotten to hear Paul talk at every meal, that line of conversation was getting to be somewhat old for her, as fascinating as it might be for the others.

  The supper itself was as good as that served the previous evening, and most of it was cooked on the charcoal grill on the beach. Billy, the cook, was among them constantly, receiving feedback on the meal; Joe, Johnny and Jimmy brought the dishes of food. After the experience of the previous night, some of the passengers had learned caution, and were sampling each course as it arrived, but eating only sparingly to leave “room” for the next course – the courses not being announced or listed before being served.

  The calamari fingers were followed by a sea food stew consisting of grilled lobster, prawns, tuna and mahi mahi in a tomato base spiced in a way that would have been surprising to an Italian but not to an Indian. This was served with a glass of a pinot chardonnay, and was followed by a tangy lime ice. The main course was a 6 ounce fillet mignon, charcoal grilled medium rare, served on a grilled eggplant medallion, finished with a Marsala sauce. This was accompanied by a roast potato and a glass of a robust Napa Valley cabernet sauvignon. This course was in turn followed by a barbecued vegetable medley, consisting of two kinds of squash, onions, green and yellow peppers that had been cooked on the charcoal grill. Though it was not intended to be the attention getter of the meal, among those in the group who had never tasted grilled vegetables before, it was the outstanding dish of the meal.

  Tossed green salad with a vinaigrette dressing was next, followed by a cheese plate and fresh fruit, served with a glass of port of an appellation and date that Lord Richard had been looking for, to supplement his cellar. The dessert was a slice of tiramisu, served with coffee and a snifter with an ounce of brandy in it.

  Once again, the passengers declared that the meal was beyond comparison. Satiated, they found their way back to their staterooms and to sleep, leaving the crew to handle the clean-up tasks.

  22

  September 22

  The thumping came again, and this time it was closer and seemed somehow more personal. Now, there was also a voice. Mark woke with the words “Breakfast is served” still ringing in his ears.

  “Julia, it’s breakfast time.”

  “I’m not hungry. Let me sleep.”

  “OK, but I’m going.”

  “OK. Let me sleep.”

  Mark rose, dressed in shorts, tee shirt and sandals, and headed out the door to breakfast. On deck, he found the sun to be up and bright, the temperature warm and moist, and breakfast waiting. French toast, bacon and country fried potatoes were on warmers on a table, served buffet style. The cook (wasn’t his name Billy?) was offering to cook him eggs any way he liked. Mark chose over easy, took one piece of French toast and helped himself to bacon and potatoes. Most of the seats were vacant. He chose to sit with Jon Howland, who was also missing a wife.

  “Doris sleeping in?”

  “Yup.”

  “So’s Julia.”

  “It’s hard to pass up such good food.” Jon helped himself to another glass of the fruit juice that was on the table. Mark helped himself as well, and started to eat, pausing when a voice behind his shoulder said “Mr. Winters, your eggs,” and slid two eggs onto his plate.

  “Thanks.”

  “Certainly, sir.”

  Mark and Jon ate on in silence.

  Meanwhile, James and Maria were negotiating with Billy for fresh fruit. Billy happily agreed to bring them some. They each collected several strips of bacon and went to sit down. Billy reappeared in a few moments with a platter of chunked up fruit for them. There were oranges, mangoes, papayas, pineapples, and grated coconut over the top. They sat is joyous silence, occasionally crunching a bit of bacon, but mostly enjoying the fruit and the morning.

  By the time James and Maria finished their fruit, there were about ten others on deck for breakfast. Missing still were Ron and Jim and the Kirkpatricks; James and Maria greeted George and Joan then went below. Shortly after that, the diesels roared to life again and the ship began to inch its way off of the sandy shore, first backing, then turning, then reversing direction, circling, heading off in a new direction for today’s run to “the farthest island.” Slowly they picked their way through an area with lots of coral and sand bars, then the diesels gradually increased in pitch as the ship moved more and more rapidly forward.

  Somewhat later, James and Maria re-emerged, again dressed in sweat suits for protection from the wind on the main deck, and sat in the sunshine, reading. They were soon joined by the Kirkpatricks, carrying books, but more interested in
talking than in reading. James and Lord Richard were soon immersed in a conversation about politics and foreign relations – favorite topics of Lord Richard, on which he sought another opinion. Meanwhile, Mary and Maria were discussing things closer to the hearts of women – differing perspectives on child rearing, education and religious training. These conversations lasted until the lunch bell.

  Lunch

  The lunch bell rang and the passengers assembled. As usual, there were five tables set out with name tags at all the places – the continuing concerted effort to get the passengers to mix with one another and get acquainted. Joe and Johnny circulated among the passengers, taking drink orders (ranging from water, iced tea and coffee to hard liquor) and informing the passengers that the appetizer was home-made honey smoked salmon brought by the Howlands from Seattle, Washington; it was to be found at the head table with small plates, please help yourselves.

  At one table, Valerie and Michelle were in the midst of a rapt discussion with Paul; Marybeth arrived with a plate of salmon to fill a fourth seat at the table, remaining silent for some time; the other two seats, marked for Ralph and Jeanne, were empty.

  Valerie: “Tell us more about what a native Fijian village might be like.”

  “Well, of course the entire population would be Melanesian, a racial type well represented among the crew with very dark skin and curly hair – African in appearance, interestingly. Before the white man introduced cloth, there was little in the way of clothing that was not ceremonial in nature. In such societies, men rarely wore more than a breechcloth, a sulu in the Fijian language – a piece of rough native cloth wrapped around the waist, sufficient to cover the genitals, held on by being tucked or tied; women’s dress in such societies varied from none to skirts made of the same type of material. The lap-lap, a male garment passing between the legs and held up fore and aft by a thong around the waist, was a garment more characteristic of Indonesia and probably less seen in Melanesia, though it might have been represented also. Grass skirts and flower necklaces were worn for ceremonial occasions by both men and women. The language would have been an offshoot of Melanesian, with somewhat different dialects spoken in different regions, those regions sometimes being as small as a single island or as large as a string of islands.”

  Michelle: “This is really interesting. Shall we pause for a moment to get some salmon?”

  Valerie: “If you want food poisoning, go ahead. This salmon was transported without refrigeration from Washington to Fiji, and even if airplanes seem cold, I would avoid this. There’ll be plenty to eat, if the last two days are any basis for expectation.”

  “Oh. Thanks Val. No salmon for me.”

  “Interesting warning, Valerie. I would have expected that smoked fish would keep well at room temperature. Isn’t that what the smoking process is for?”

  “Of course. But the Howlands did this at home, which ought to make one suspicious of the quality of preservation. On top of that, it is ‘honey smoked’ – and we don’t know if the honey was adequately cooked to destroy botulism spores, or if it was cooked at all. This salmon may have been perfectly safe to eat within a few hours after it was prepared, and now be quite poisonous in any of a number of ways. I prefer to be safe rather than sorry, is all – especially when I know there will be way too much food placed before me over the next few minutes.”

  “Well, Valerie, I’ll follow your lead.”

  Marybeth: “It is delicious. You’re being silly and overcautious.”

  Valerie: “For your sake, I hope I am. Enjoy!”

  But Paul, Valerie and Michelle remained seated.

  Paul resumed his summary of the Fijian culture. Ralph and Jeanne arrived as the vichyssoise was being removed, well after all of the salmon had disappeared. They gave the excuse that they had been “busy” when the lunch bell had sounded; Marybeth snorted softly on hearing this – after all, she had been on a honeymoon once herself.

  At the adjacent table, Lord Richard and Lady Richard were nibbling at the salmon in their typical way, accustomed as they were to large, multi-course meals; they had a long habit of barely tasting the early courses in order to be able to enjoy the later ones. Roger Applebee was happy to supply Jayne with salmon, though he declared that he did not care for smoked fish and would abstain. Marshall and Eloise were sharing off of a generously supplied plate of the fish, continuing to eat from it even after the arrival of the soup course, a vichyssoise that Lord Richard quickly declared to be the best he had ever tasted. Conversation at this table covered the joint interest that Lord Richard and Marshall had in far-east economic development in the first few moments of the lunch; a gentle glance at her Lordship from his Lady reminded him that this conversation belonged somewhere other than the lunch table, so the two, by agreement, put it off to the afternoon.

  At another table, Mark and Julia had abstained from the salmon in preference to the vichyssoise and now a very tasty seared tuna in a sauce of honey, soy sauce and wasabi. In the meantime, Jon, Doris, Jeff and Marilyn had all been eating the salmon and had passed on the cold soup. Jeff sliced into the tuna with the comment that:

  “It is a little raw in the middle.”

  Jon: “It is supposed to be just barely warmed above room temperature at the center. This kind of tuna is a delicacy when served raw. The searing is to give you the full gamut of flavors from the raw center to the caramelized exterior.”

  “I guess I’ll try it, then. I’m not a big fan of raw fish.”

  Marilyn: “This is excellent and the sauce is remarkable.”

  Mark: “I think so too.”

  Jeff found he could eat the outer portion with enjoyment, and left the raw center on his plate.

  At another table, as the lemon ice was being followed with a lobster curry served on a bed of rice, Susan indicated her disdain for curry. George, who had not had any salmon and only two or three spoons of vichyssoise, and Joan, who had eaten the salmon but not the vichyssoise and only a small taste of the tuna, ate the curry with relish while Pete and Sarah picked at it, having eaten enough salmon, vichyssoise and tuna to satisfy their lunch appetites too early in the meal. Marcella played her usual role of attending to Susan Thorpe, a role that had served her well so far in keeping her from overeating – indeed, she had served Susan salmon and not even tasted it herself; she had tasted the vichyssoise and privately had agreed with Lord Kirkpatrick even though she had not heard his remark, and had eaten only about half of her tuna. Having grown up on relatively rough provincial French cooking, Marcella did not have a refined French palate, but she had experienced excellent food all her life and had decided preferences, most of which were well accommodated by the fare being provided on the Fiji Queen

  The lobster curry gave way to broccoli with hollandaise followed by green salad and a cup of ice cream for dessert. At the fifth table were two couples who were developing effete eating styles in mimicry of the Kirkpatricks – Jim, Ron, James and Maria had skipped the salmon (with the exception of Jim, who had sampled a small taste, declared to Ron that it was foul and he should not even try it, and had spit it out into his napkin), tasted lightly of the vichyssoise and had left a moderate portion of each of the other courses uneaten. The third couple at the table, John and Melodie, was substantially more voracious in their eating, sharing a substantial plate of salmon, and leaving nothing behind of the other dishes. They, on the other hand, left their salads untouched and groaned at the appearance of the ice cream, which the other four enjoyed.

  Captain Wilkie’s voice interrupted conversation at the arrival of the ice cream. “Ladies and gentlemen. I have some announcements regarding the afternoon, evening, and tonight’s entertainment. We will be arriving soon at the island where we will be staying tonight. This is the farthest we shall get from Lautoka, and represents a northeast extension of the Yasawa island chain. There is one village on this island. Villagers will come on board to entertain you after supper with some dances. Tomorrow, we will walk to the villag
e for a tour and to see the native crafts they have available for sale. While this is not the wildest island we shall visit, this is the most traditional village we shall see, in the sense that it has embraced and moved back towards the ways of the Fijian before the arrival of the European influence. These people are not cannibals and they are good Christians, but they have otherwise chosen an increased level of isolation and to live life much as it was lived three or four hundred years ago. Their standard requests of us when we visit are few, but these requests should be observed carefully. First, they request that we do not go to their village until tomorrow, when they will be prepared to greet us. Second, they request that you not smoke or drink alcohol while you are on shore – though you may do so while you are on board the ship. Third, they ask that you not swim in the lagoon. You may wade in the water along the shore, but be careful, as the bottom drops away sharply. I suggest you not get wet deeper than ankle depth. There is an interesting geographic feature down the beach to starboard. You will notice the palms and mangroves coming down to the shore. There is a small stream there. You can wade in the stream or walk next to it upstream to a beautiful waterfall coming down from the rocky crags above. It is truly a sight worth seeing, and worthy of your photography. You are also welcome to wander inland. Please do not wander to the left of the prow of the boat.