Sunday, June 19

Despite getting an early jump on sleep, Grace had other plans and was awake at 2AM, and stayed that way for almost two hours before tuckering out again. I turned in right after putting her back in bed, as we're supposed to be setting off for the beach pretty soon.

As it happened, I ended up sleeping in kind of late, probably making up for the midnight feeding and cooing with the little one. I was met by wide-awake Claire and Grace, who had been up for a while, but were letting me get a little sleep-in, since today is Father's Day. After a bit, Claire pointed out I had a card and package that were labeled “dad.” Evidently, even though not quite three-months old, and having never been left unsupervised, she found time to shop for gifts. Curiously, the gift was a mousepad with a picture of the three of us on it from the day we went to the Stonehouse, so I suspect Claire gave her a little hand in getting it done.

We went to the restaurant and had a quick breakfast. As quick as they do, anyway. Another tip for future travelers; relax and realize that time has slowed down. They're usually quick to greet us, and even take a drink order. Usually the drink order comes quickly enough, especially in the morning if you get a coffee or juice. They'll often take your meal order pretty quickly, too, but even if you order something simple, it can take a half-hour or more to make and deliver it. When we say “quick” breakfast, we usually mean it took less than an hour to order and eat.

We talked the other mother into joining us. We had such a blast last week, especially with Claire getting to hang out with the other wives while I chatted with the guys. She was concerned that being alone there with her boy might be a bit draining. Also, she'd been invited to go to church with her birthmother, but had not been able to reach her by phone, and so hadn't enough detail to know which church to go to. We convinced her it'd be fun and easier than the last time, so she joined us.

It was raining when we left the hotel. Not just a little rain, either. The rain was hard enough that we wondered if they'd set out. I suggested that since we had nothing better to do, the downside would be that we'd drive across the island and back in the rain. Before we got the ten miles, the rain had stopped and the sky cleared.

We pulled in later than before, about 12:25, but only the boat was there. We parked the car, but before we got everything out, our host pulled up behind us. He greeted us warmly, and invited us aboard. Much quicker than the other visits, probably due to our shorter wait after arriving, we took off for the island.

There was a little bit of a different vibe this time around. Everyone was still friendly, but by the time we got there, the area was already filled with other people. People come and go, but these guys were already in full swing, and at first seemed a little put off when we showed up. They'd occupied most of the table space under the big canopy building, and many of the smaller gazebo-like buildings. They were evidently there when the rain had passed, because they'd pulled all of their gear under the canopy, too, filling much of the clear ground. This gear included their grill, which seemed like a bad idea under the palm-roofed structure. They were also circled around this cook area and one of the tables, and while they acknowledged our arrival, they didn't really engage us quite so friendly.

Listen to me, like I'm a big stranger-greeter kind of guy. Still, it was a bit of a territorial gathering to start with..

A key vibe dampener was when they chided Buster, Kenneth's black lab, for chasing the pigs away. Sure, the pigs are cute, but as we'd learned the last couple of visits, it's Buster's job to keep the pigs away from the picnic area while he's there. He gives them a little chase, and they scamper off. He doesn't give chase after the big pigs, but gives more of a stand-off pose and the pigs give way. There's a little pig noise, but it seems everyone knows the routine. Before we got the cart unloaded, Buster chased the pigs, but one of the women already there apparently thought the pigs should be left alone, and she interceded, actually running between Buster and the pigs, shooing him away.

We set up a little bit of camp for the babies at the end of one of the two remaining tables, and helped unpack the rest of the stuff on the other end of that table and the other table.

We lamented that the crowd occupying the little gazebo-like structure (I'm not sure what they're really called) seemed both to have filled it up, but also wasn't broken out into just the wives like last time. It seemed the “men over there and women over here, tended to occasionally by the men” experience we had last week wasn't going to happen.

We did run into a woman we'd run into previously. She had met us at the hotel restaurant, and invited us to the Diabetes Wellness Center. Her name is Kristen or Kirsten or something like that; no slight to her...I'm just horrible with names. She was there with her little boy, who was having a swell time at the moment slinging rocks at other rocks with a little beach shovel. She was there with the other group, and I think having that connection helped ease the initial “stranger” vibe, and things got a little chattier between the groups. They still stopped Buster from doing his job, even when told to by Kenneth.

We fed the kids, and it happened that they both fell asleep for a while. We laid them out on the table, and I chaperoned them while the moms went in search of more shells and such. I got a little friendly teasing from the other guys, but they're all dads, too, and have had to do the same. They joked that it's a good Father's Day if you get to spend it with your kids, even if they are sleeping—sometimes especially if they're sleeping. After the moms returned, I went and sat with the guys for a bit, as they were cooking over by the men's area.

It was a different set of guys, again, with only a couple from the last week, and none from the first week we'd visited. This it turns out is the norm, as the only constant seems to be Kenneth and his group of kids, and the others come and go on their own boats, for the most part, when their schedules allow. It seems much more of this bunch was more comfortable chatting in Marshallese, or whatever, so I wasn't really able to participate much, except when Kenneth or Bobby, the other guy from last time, made sure to include me.

Since the wife-tending wasn't happening like before, I hopped between hanging with the men and the moms. Somewhere during this hopping, lunch was ready, and everyone grabbed some food from the various bins. They'd slaughtered and cooked another pig. I asked if like Fiji and Hawaii they had a tradition of cooking the pigs underground. They do, and of course I've forgotten what they call it. They said that's too much work, though, so they just cooked this pig on a spit. They also had some fresh-caught tuna, served in an apparently traditional way: just cut in half an pulled apart as you want some.

The moms took the kids to the ocean side of the island for some low-tide shell hunting. Even though the floating cooler hadn't been loaded or set afloat, I was kind of out of the conversational loop, the moms had left, and I was hot, so I slathered on some sunscreen and helped myself to a little float in the lagoon to cool off. Just a little bit after, it started raining. It rained kind of hard for just a few minutes, and then got sunny again. I floated through the rain, and pulled myself out only after the other group had started to leave. It had nothing to do directly with their leaving, but more to do with me being in the way in the lagoon as they brought their skiff to shore to load a bit of stuff and take it to their boat, and return for more.

I rinsed my arms and legs (and sandals) with the freshwater hose at the edge of the beach. I changed into dry clothes that I'd brought with, and helped with the kids again. Before too much longer, the stuff got loaded back on the cart and we set out for the home-side of the island.

It started raining during the return trip, so the moms took the kids into the cabin of the boat, and I joined Kenneth and Bobby on the upper deck. Just a couple minutes later the rain stopped. I thought I saw the gals back out on the lower deck, but I stayed above chatting with the guys.

They told me that it has been unusually rainy this year. This is a good thing, they tell me, as their fresh water is almost entirely from rainfall. They have a reservoir that can store a couple months of water, but that means they usually run out of water two months after it stops raining. A lot of homes and other buildings have giant rain barrels attached to them, that they use for their own consumption, often without additional filtering. Some people use it for non-potable uses, like in toilets or gardens, but some use it for any freshwater needs. The additional weeks of rain they've had this year have staved off the start of that countdown.

It seems that just about every year, when the reserves dry up, a state of emergency is declared, and help is sought. Nearly always the U.S. steps in, sending a Navy ship to desalinate water until the next rainy season starts. This last year, a Japanese ship was here; I'm not sure if that was instead of a U.S. ship or in addition to one. Speculation is that the Japanese won't be able to help this year, though, since they're probably busy still working out their troubles after that giant earthquake earlier in the year.

Apparently, there's no desalination facility in the country able to satisfy the needs of everyone. There is some supplementation from bottled water and soda and other imported goods of the kind, but not enough to fill all of the canteens, so to speak. I'm not sure what that would take on a scale large enough to keep all 60K people in the country in fresh water, but it seems like that might be a prudent thing for someone to do. Either as a government-run facility, or a business opportunity.

There is the Pacific Pure Water Company here, but apparently they focus on purifying rainwater, not desalinating ocean water. If an occasional ship can meet the needs, it seems like a land-based plant or few could better meet the needs. There are a few large atolls, so there could be a few such plants, spreading out both jobs and supply to meet the needs. And not just of the Marshallese; this is apparently a problem throughout small nations in the south Pacific.

After docking and unloading the boat. I vehemently thanked Kenneth for letting us join him the last few weeks. I shared that our paperwork was coming due and that it might be the case that we could receive our visas this week. Depending on that and available flights, and the rest, we might not be around for next Sunday. He said if we were we should try to make it, 'cause we're a good addition.

We got a few good showers in, and bathed Grace. We went to the restaurant for a quick pizza, where Grace fell asleep for the night. Tired from a long, good day, we turned in directly upon returning to the room, too.