Waking up on Ratua

“Father Prin’s small three-room home, where we first stayed, was a sanctuary of cleanliness and repose. It was here we rested and made our plans (for exploring the New Hebrides). I had learned a lot from our first trip and had included many comforts and some luxuries in our equipment. We had air-cushions and mattresses and, with an eye to giving Martin some good wholesome food, I had brought a clear-flamed Primus stove. I settled down to make my home in what is considered one of the wildest lands of the world.”

—From I Married Adventure by Osa Johnson, 1940

I was so annoyed this morning. There was no hairdryer in my little 3-room villa on Ratua. Nor a coffee maker. Which, of course, put me in mind of Martin and Osa Johnson and the many things they did without as well on their visit to these islands in 1917.

I’m sure Osa would appreciate the rustic nature of the Crocodile House, as my villa is called, which is made out of 200-year-old teak repurposed from traditional village huts on Sumatra and outfitted and pieced together on Bali before being shipped to Ratua. This, for instance, is my bed.

Spartan, right? Probably not a whole lot different from the “air-cushions and mattresses” Osa and Martin had to make do with at Father Prin’s place (except I think my sheets are probably 300-count Frette). And then there’s this wooden water bucket with a ladle in it sitting on the steps outside my covered veranda near the wicker chair. As if I’m going to take a drink of water from that, no matter how parched I am after a bit too much of the Tattingers Claire, our ni-Vanuatu hostess, kept pouring me last night after our arrival.

Oh, wait…There’s chilled Perrier in the fridge. I guess the bucket is for washing the sand off my feet when I go for a swim. Which I may or may not do since I can see, even from my veranda, that there are all kinds of odd things in these waters. Like flying fish. And turtles. And fish whose colors could not possibly have come from Mother Nature (is there some sort of nuclear power plant around here, I wonder?).

Besides, there looks to be all sorts of coral in the lagoon. Red, green, gold, pink. And you know how badly you can get infected from touching coral. Better safe than sorry.

Anyway, I’m starving. So I think I’ll head for the Ratua Yacht Club and pray they have an espresso machine. Otherwise, it’s going to be a long day.