Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
“How long can I stay?” I asked, holding Murphy who was fighting to get on land.
“As long as you like bra, but you have to pay so much per foot a day.”
I was quite shocked until he told me that it worked out to around a hundred dollars a month.
I could pay that for a while, and later perhaps I could find some part-time work to help pay
for food and harbor dues.
He handed me some papers to fill out and said I need only hand them in in the morning as
he was heading off for the rest of the day. I set Murphy down onto the dock, and he im-
mediately raced along the wooden jetty to the rocky shore break and began sniffing around
at all the new and exciting smells. I went below and retrieved a towel and some soap and
walked up towards the ablution block. The shoreline had neatly manicured lawns with an
aggressive sprinkler I had to dodge. Bougainvillea plants were in bloom all over the place;
I could smell warm, earthy fragrances, and it was good to be back on land and safe in a
snug, little harbor.
In the shower there was a simple spigot set in the lava rock wall that shot a jet of ice cold
water, and I gasped in surprise. It was quite wonderful after the initial shock, and soon I
felt refreshed and clean. I went back to the boat, and Murphy was waiting for me on the
dock. It seemed that this was as far as he wanted to go, or at least this was what he regarded
as his turf. “Hi dad, where have you been?” he squeaked as he jumped up, happy to see
me. I strung out a line across the mast and foredeck and hung my towel up to dry. Putting
on some tennis shoes, I set out to stretch my legs and explore down the road. Murphy fol-
lowed. There were two options: I could walk down to the beach, facing left as I looked up
the hill, or I could follow the pot-holed road up the hill to town some seven miles away. I
turned left towards the beach walking on the old, dirt road. I would get to know this path
very well in the future.
There were Kiawe trees and scrub all the way down to the beach on my left. I recognized
them as Acacias from South Africa, or at least Africa. One had to be very careful about
stepping on their wicked, large, white thorns which lay scattered about. Once they had
broken off into the sole of your shoe, they were hard to detect until you stood on something
hard and then they pushed through into your foot. These trees were reportedly brought in
by earlier missionary settlers to discourage the local “heathens” from going about barefoot.
I personally believe they were used as cattle hedges as this whole island once used to have
cattle before the pineapple plantations came into being. On the other side of the road there
were large, grassy fields that were part of a nursery growing plants, trees, and shrubs for
the hotel that was destined to be built in the future, as well as for the betterment of the is-
land.
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