“Before venturing on our long trip into the interior, Martin felt we should make a trial excursion or two to test out our equipment and familiarize ourselves with the country. Less than a week later we were off across the bay in the government’s fine, sturdy launch. We went up one of the many rivers that empty into the ocean there. It was alive with crocodiles. Soon the nipa-thatched native huts gave way to a jungle so dense with giant trees, vines, and parasitic roots that it appeared impenetrable fifty feet back from the shores; and monkeys, literally thousands, jabbered at our intrusion.
Suddenly a grizzled, wise looking old water buffalo decided to resent our intrustion and, snorting, lowered his head for a charge. The rest followed suit and the herd came at us. Martin caught me and swung me behind him with one hand, and kept on grinding with the other. The natives had already scrambled for cover.”
—From I Married Adventure by Osa Johnson, 1940
As far as I can tell there is exactly one crocodile on Ratua. And three monkeys, two water buffalos, and a tiger. I like the tiger best of all. He sits camouflaged in a thicket of ferns and bamboo, his weathered face perpetually snarling at anyone who dares walk along the coco wood boardwalk that meanders through the lush landscape from the Fish Village to the unfinished spa that sits on a point out over the water.
These wood carvings, perched at the head of the walkway to each villa, not only give name to each ancient teak bungalow but, I like to think, guard them (though I’m not too sure about how ferocious the rather tired-looking mother monkey and her two babies might be).
My villa is guarded by a crocodile who looks so menacing that I rather dread heading back to my room every evening after dinner. I swear his mouth opens just a tad bit more every time I pass. Perhaps they should have put me in the Monkey Villa.
To see more of Kate Ayrton’s photos of Ratua, please visit wandermelon.com/author/kate-ayrton/.
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