Elected FRE 6 & 7 Peer Support Network

Full bus as usual! 

Holding all your stuff in your lap down a dirt road in a 1960s bus – now THAT is an adventure!

Mataio has WON the bread making challenge!! But I think we ALL came out winners!!

Cyclone Mick – ladies and gentleman, we have survived our first hurricane! 

Mataio and his plate at the wedding… he is guarding it with force ~ just in case you didn't see the white name tag poked into the bread.  

Us in our matching Texas sulu jamba and bula shirt … always a big hit! 

The beginnings of Mataio's canoe!

All the elders helping … but mostly just offering much needed advice!

Mataio and the canoe … looking smoo-oooo-th! 

Talofa and Merry Christmas!!

I hope this finds you celebrating with your loved ones. We are preparing for Christmas on the island and still recovering from a busy week. Cyclone Mick came and went … there was some wind damage, unfortunately Mataio's garden flooded, and we are now under typhoid and dengue fever warning – but other than that we are ok! Thank you for your prayers! Then the sun came out and Mataio started his canoe making with the assistance of Papa. (Really Mataio is assisting Papa… as you will see by the photos.) 

I couldn't bring myself to take photos of the next two events but felt they needed to be shared … Someone broke into the new school addition (funded by the EU) and pooped on the blueprints … scandalous! We have yet to find the poop-etrator but the local policeman is on the hunt! And all week we kept noticing all these naked little boys under the age of 4 years …. I figured it was due to the heat, but actually Tupata circumcised all of them and they can't wear pants. Apparently when they can wear pants the community celebrates with a feast – imagine that! And finally we celebrated Tomasi and Rosie's wedding! 

This week we are getting ready for the arrival of the Tuvalu Prime Minister and then Christmas!!! YEAH!!! We love you! Keli & Mataio

Lessons Learned

It is amazing what you can get done, when you have nothing better to do.

If you hear hammering … get ready for a hurricane.

It doesn't really matter what you possess but it does matter what you value.

I am blessed to own nice things and I must do my best to make sure the nice things don't own me.

My house might blow away, but I will always have a place to go home to.

When I grow up I want to live somewhere that requires a big fluffy jacket and a fireplace!

Kelly Roy

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Talofa!!

Today is our 200th day!! We are celebrating with a good old fashioned Kioan pineapple-binge! It is only 10am and we have already eaten 2. Yum! It is great to be back on our little island and we are busy preparing for all the holiday parties. We had our first yesterday for the Children's Sunday School. It rained the entire time but didn't stop the games, swimming and feasting. The adults took shelter under a gigantic rock and the kids frankly didn't even notice. I'm glad it doesn't "feel" like Christmas because I would miss you even more, which seems impossible!!! 

We love you! Keli & Mataio

Lessons Learned

Hearing is not listening.

To be a light unto the world, something in you has to be on fire!

Jesus doesn't need me… but thankfully he wants me anyway.

Kelly Roy

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visit us online @ http://www.kioaisland.org/

The second day of carving the canoe was quite the social event. Whenever an man brings in his rough cut canoe from the bush it is tradition for all the toeaina, elder man of the village, to gather about the canoe and offer advice on its carving. Many join in on the work showing the youngsters how to do it. One of the best canoe makers on the island was first to arrive and immediately started shaving here and there keeping a keen eye on the form and shape of the canoe belly.

As an interesting side note, during our day of carving several tamaliki’s joined in the fun. Kids are an integral part of any event in the island, whether intended or not! It makes events much more fun because they are about the only ones here who can understand my broken Tuvaluan and really enjoy talking back and forth with me. The adults just look at me like I’m crazy and starting speaking English or a very fast version of their native tongue which makes my head spin.

A brief side note: I had noticed the last several days many boys running around the beach and village in the buff. This isn’t very unusual here and there is almost always at least one tamaliki with no clothes or pants on. This seemed strange though as the flashers where only young boys and some had a sulu fashioned around their necks like their where studying to be Tibetan Monks. I asked Papa what was going on and he said they where circumcised by Tupata recently and couldn’t wear pants. It suddenly all made more sense and I felt bad. I asked why they didn’t circumcise when they were infants and he said it is tradition to do it when they are young boys. Following the healing a big feast is held the event. I suddenly became very thankful I didn’t grow up here!

The main tool used during this stage of shaping is the toki kati. It is a flat bladed iron tool much like an overgrown hoe. The handle is thick and a little longer than a hammer. The edge is very sharp and rounded at the tips to keep it from sticking in the soft vilivili wood. I purchased a tool and Papa carved a handle for me yesterday. The only problem is my toki kati was made for cane farmers and is too wide and short for canoe carving. Oh well, there were plenty of proper toki’s around and there where often two elders carving at a time.

The first stage of this process is to elevate the canoe on logs right side up. The sides are shaped first. After a good form has been achieved, the canoe is flipped over and the bottom is shaped. This takes quite a bit of skill and keen eyesight. The wood is very light and it is hard to see the slight elevation differences in the grain. The men would hack away vigorously at an area, step back, take some advise from the observers, and then proceed back to shaping. This was while another toeaina was also carving on the opposite end. It is truly a community event and no canoe is made by just one person on the island. It is said when a paopao is being formed the master craftsmen canoe builders feet take them to the spot of the work.

After the work with the toki is finished, the planer is brought out. I found an old school Stanley planer in Savusavu made in England. It is probably one of the better built pieces of hardware I’ve seen here and the price reflected it. I bit the bullet and it turned out to be a wise investment because all the elders were impressed with its ability to shape. This part of the process involves working the plane back and forth along the sides and belly of the canoe while it is still flipped over on its top. The strokes have to follow front to back, as this is the path it will travel in the water. Here is where the ultimate touch and patience is needed to make a properly balanced hull.

At first I thought canoes had a symmetrically rounded base but learned outriggers are actually a little offset. In order to balance the canoe body with the outrigger the curvature of the canoe base must be much sharper on the side with the outrigger. The opposite side is a more gradual slope.

Papa finished up the day with the bottom almost fully formed. A little work is left and then the carving on the canoes interior will begin. This work is done with a toki talie tool which similar to the toki kati but with a concaved blade. Our goal is to finish the work by Christmas but I’m not very hopeful we’ll meet this deadline. There is a two-cow wedding this weekend and about 200 people arriving over the next few days in preparation for the holiday activities. Every day more and more boatloads of visitors and returning islanders arrive carting everything from live pigs to new T.V.’s. It is quite a sight to behold and we can’t wait to see what unfolds over the next several days. It will most definitely be a holiday season like none other we’ve experienced.

Paopao in Tuvaulan is canoe. They are legendary on the island as this is one of the last places in Fiji, if not the last in the world, where villagers still carve canoes from a single tree trunk. The tree most often used is the softwood vilivili tree. This is a lightweight and easily workable wood that if maintained properly can last a good 10-15 years in the water.

Canoes are used daily and fishermen prefer these to outboards. Fishermen are often spotted well out into open waters and often fish around Taveuni, a good distance south of us. Sails made from tarps are often used to assist in high winds. The fishermen are master of the tides and currents and are known throughout Fiji for their craft, much aided by the nimble outrigger canoes.

Since we’ve arrived I’ve been fascinated by these simple works of art and have often asked for some brave sole to let me take their prized vessel out for a go. For some reason they just joke when I ask and want to know if I would like to go fishing. They laugh again when I eagerly say yes, and then say someday we’ll go out. I frankly got tired of someday and decided, as any normal Texan would, to take matters into my own hands.

So I’m building a canoe. Well, I’m not really building it. I’ve hired Papa to build one for me and I am his assistant. O.k., I’m not even that. Vavasasa is his assistant, I’m just the pulagi getting in the way. Regardless, the last two days have been awesome watching the skilled craftsman display his artful skills.

It started yesterday when we took a 15 minute fibre boat ride to Papa’s block. He had already cut the Vilivili tree and quickly sized up the section for the canoe after arriving at the spot. He measured a couple of arm lengths along the massive trunk and then began lightly outlining the chainsaw cuts with his cane knife.

After quick work with the chain saw the length was cut and the sides where then shaven to form a rough box. This is when the touch came into play as he worked the massive logger’s chainsaw like a butter knife through the wood. The front and back where carefully carved and then the bottom. After the hull was finished the harder work of carving out the top was started.

A few deep cuts where made with the chain saw and then large chunks of wood where pried out with a sharpened spade. The spade proved very useful as the guts of the canoe where basically shoveled out piece by piece. After this arduous task was complete we had to get the 150lbs beast down to the beach through thick bush and steep inclines. Papa and Vasa made quick work of this task and had it to the water in no time.

It is the holiday season and people are flocking to the island like homing pigeons. Therefore, there weren’t any boats available to pick us and our new cargo up. We waited around for a couple of hours cutting fire wood and collecting mature coconut. Finally, Vovo showed up with the boat and we were soon off with the paopao safely loaded.

The pulagi making a paopao news has spread like wild fire and Kelly said I was the talk of the village while out cutting the canoe. It appears they think Mataio is crazy because he wants a paopao. I keep telling them I’m building it so I can share their ancient skill with others by documenting the process and sharing it with the world on kioaisland.org. I don’t think they realize how unique this part of their culture it is. Papa has grown weary of this question as well and is now telling everyone it is so I can go fishing. That seems to register well with inquisitive islanders so that’s the story we’re sticking with.

Cyclone #1 now has a name, Mick. It is a somewhat bruising name for a cyclone and doesn’t give me warm fuzzies. I would much prefer a name like Lucy or Clyde for my storms as the name Mick conjures up a lumpy faced cage fighter with an oak trunk for a neck and wrecking ball forearms. For those who didn’t know, like myself prior to venturing south of the equator, hurricanes in the southern hemisphere are referred to as cyclones rather than hurricanes. I’m not really sure why as cyclone is often interchanged with tornado back home. I’ll have to add that to my ‘things to google’ list when I find an internet connection.

Regardless, Mick is now lumbering slowly towards the western side of Viti Levu, the larger island of Fiji. That name is also interesting as the next largest island, Vanua Levu, literally translates ‘large’ land. They say this is because it has more mountains, but I still think it is odd. Why not Mountanua Levu, or Talla Levu, or Highadanu Levu.

The rain and wind last night was ferocious. The sound absorption coefficient of our tin roof is quite low so I spent most of the night wide-awake waiting for the whole darn thing to blow apart. Our house was built after the 2002 storm that decimated large portions of Vanua Levu so it has anti-cyclone features such as metal strapping at every stud and ¾” anchor bolts securing the rafters to the walls. These don’t bring much comfort, though, during the roaring rainstorms.

The weather calmed for a spell this morning and Samalu stopped by to give us an update. What passed last night was just a precursor as the storm wasn’t even a cyclone yet and still 100 km north of Fiji. He advised us the path was projected to split the two large islands at about 6 pm this evening. We agreed to move to higher ground and discussed options. Later that morning more showers rolled in with intense strength. Samalu was informed by the Nadi Meteorological service that the storm was changing course away from us towards the western side of Viti Levu. With this information we decided to stay at our house and fortify the windows. We nailed tin to the exterior of five windows that will face the prevailing winds of the storm. We moved all our stuff out of the bathroom addition and into the original footprint area. We’ve also packed bags and food in case we have to make a run for it. The good thing about cyclones is there is plenty of time to prepare; the bad thing is there is plenty of time to prepare. I think we have packed and re-packed 10 times and re-arranged everything in our house three times. I even swept out below our bed in case we have to find refuge there. I think we are about as ready as two landlubber cyclone rookies can be. Not all is doom and gloom, however, as today was a red-letter day on the garden front.

After two garden overhauls and four and half months of weeding, watering, planting, and repeating, I finally harvested five plump cabbage heads. It was perfect timing as the rain has produced a small stream flowing through the center of my long bean rows and I’m not sure if the garden will survive another day of torrential downpours. I gave two stalks to Samalu for providing tin for our cyclone proofing, two to Papa for nailing them up, and we kept one for cabbage soup this evening. We are indeed ready for Mr. Mick.

It has now been raining for a solid four days, off and on. Petueli mentioned yesterday that Fiji was under a cyclone warning and that it would strike today. I immediately called PC and was informed it was just an area of low pressure to the north of Fiji. I tried to check our radio but it only picks up a New Zealand station, and even that is hit or miss.

PC sent out a text today that the storm had developed further and Fiji was now under a cyclone warning. We packed some food and bags and are now waiting it out prepared to move to higher ground if necessary.

I typically enjoy weather events and love seeing them unfold from the plethora of media outlets available back home. From radio, web, to Double Viper Doppler 2000 on channel whatever, Americans have unparalleled access to accurate weather data. Here all I can do is stick my head out the window. We don’t even have clear sights of the skyline to see oncoming storms due to our nested location within two large hills. So, needless to say I’m quite frustrated at the moment to have no idea what is going on with the weather around us.

Thursday we attended the Sunday School Picnic Day event. This is a yearly event where the Sunday School children and their parents head to a nice beach just west of the village. Every time I asked what events would take place I received the response that there would be feasting, of course, and games, and children bathing in the ocean. I’m not sure the significance of the last event, but it was specifically mentioned by more than one person. Maybe they’ve bought the lie most Americans have that the old Franklin saying, “Cleanliness is next to Godliness,” is a biblical proverb.

The event was scheduled to start at 6:30 am. Since we didn’t see a compelling reason to venture out that early and the fact that it was raining rather steadily, we waited until closer to lunch to make our way to the beach. The tide was coming in so it wasn’t so bad, but I was worried about our return trip. The spring tides are apparently much higher than normal tides around here. I strategically thought it might be good to take a short cut across the point in case coming back the tides proved too daunting. I asked Kelly if she was up to it and she said yes. Unfortunately the short cut trail quickly ended and we were walking through thick bush and Kelly was not a happy camper. We ran into Fakaofo who guided us back to the trail and eventually we safely arrived at the beach.

As we walked up to the picnic we spotted two long lines of tamalikis, children, passing coconuts backwards over their heads to each other. Once the nut reached the end of the line the last child would run frantically to the start of the line to start the sequence over. The game quickly digressed into the boy’s throwing the nut to the last person in line who most often than not was not privy to the sudden rule change and thus welcomed the arrival of the projectile with an unprotected forehead. This was followed with an uproar of joy from observing children. Slapstick comedy is very big here. Soon complete chaos erupted and no resemblance of a game remained. For personal security reasons we quickly meandered to the group of adults sitting under a huge outcropping of rock forming a nice shelter from the strengthening showers. Here we sat for 2.5 hours not doing a lot. We mainly people watched and observed very interesting behavior. A few pods of four adults were playing the popular island game of trump 10. I’ve had a few daring locals try to teach me the rules but I am horrible at learning card games audibly, especially from people who don’t speak English. A few women where boiling food in large pots, a few where scraping coconuts, and most where just ‘yarning’. The kids were busy playing in the incoming tide along the beach not paying much attention to the developing down pour. They would run into the oncoming waves doing flips and cartwheels. Sometimes an unsuspecting child was gobbled up by her limbs and hurled into the surf. Full body tackles were another common technique used by the children to submerge their brethren. It was safe to say the energy level was above average and I wouldn’t have been surprised if a few children didn’t walk away with slight concussions.

Lunch for the children consisted of tuna sandwiches with a side dish of scraped coconut, sugar, water, and breakfast crackers mixed into a gooey pulp. The adults had fish and the left over coconut concoction. The sanitation practices observed are hardly ideal in the village so out here they where pretty much non-existent. We where indeed thankful we had brought out own tuna sandwiches and fruit.

After about 3 hours we decided to start the journey back to the village while there was a slight break in the showers. I asked Samalu where the trail was leading over the point away from the shore and he said it turned up at the rocks. With this detailed description we ventured off back home. Sure enough, there was a trail leading up the hill at the rocks. The unfortunate event occurred when half way up the trail ended at a farmer’s block. This often happens around here and unless you know where the trail picks up again somewhere along the perimeter of the large block it is hard to keep on going. We decided to forge ahead and searched around the bush for the trail. We finally found the path near the ridge. Now we had to make it down the trail. The rain at this point was falling heavily and the trail was more like chocolate pudding on a slip and slide than dirt. We clumsily made our way down not avoiding the occasional butt slide and arrived back home a good 45 minutes later. So much for a short cut…

Yesterday Samalu and I ventured out to a healthy creek near Bat Island
to scope out the hydro potential. From the research I’ve done on the
web, and visiting installed systems nearby on Taveuni, it appears the
two keys to hydro are head and water flow. Head is the vertical drop
in water and water flow is, well, water flow. From there the math
gets complicated and my eyes glaze over. I left iterations in high
school calculus class a long time ago and do not care to return.

We hiked up the creek and found a nice spot with a natural flume. It
is just below the convergence of two creeks and adjacent to a bat
cave. Seriously, there were bats fluttering everywhere clicking their
radar noises and causing me much angst. I steadied my nerves and
stood still with bats whizzing by left and right to get another
reading on my GPS watch. It registered an elevation of 200’. This
was inconsistent, however, so my faith in its ability to pick up
accurate satellite data through the thick trees and clouds wasn’t
high. I was solo at this point as Samalu stopped about half way up to
take a quick nap. Hiking is not his strong suit. On the way, though,
he did point out a clever pig trap one industrious islander had set up
near the creek. After the observations I took note of what materials
I would need to test the flow and we returned to the village.

Day Two:

Today Papa and I made a return trip to Bat Island Creek to measure the
water flow and get more readings on the elevation. Papa had duties
working on the school addition yesterday so he couldn’t join us on the
first trip.

Before leaving we marked a trashcan in 10 litre increments and grabbed
a 5” PVC pipe about 8 feet long. I also clocked the distance from the
village generator shed to the proposed site of the turbine near the
beach at Bat Island. Samalu showed me a short cut across a point
yesterday so we decided to take this route on the way and measure the
distance. We would compare this distance with the beach route on the
return trip. The short cut turned out to be .20 miles longer than the
beach route and much more difficult with swamps, thick bush, and
hills. The overall distance of the shorter route was 1.03 miles.
This will have to be traversed with the turbine power wires if this
site proves workable, and I am assuming we would lose some, if not
substantial, power from the long distance of wire. That will be left
to an engineer to figure out. I’m just an Aggie with a bucket and
enough sense to be dangerous.

At the water flume we wrapped the PVC pipe with one of our broken
rubber exercise bands and pressed it tight within the natural concave
rock flume. This worked pretty good at making a seal and only a small
trickle passed by. It took 4 minutes and 26 seconds to fill the
bucket with 50 litres of water. This is a rate of .188 l/s, which
isn’t very good. The elevation measurements on my GPS were also
whacked out and I got readings varying from 200 feet to 400 feet. The
thought of trying to calculate the elevation using a hand made level
and string in the Fijian bush is something I don’t care to do so we
will have to wait on a good altimeter or a survey crew with good
equipment to figure this one out. At least we can show in our
proposal to funding organizations that we are at least trying.

After the water flow calculation we ventured up the creek about a
quarter of a mile to see if flow was visible higher up. Unfortunately
the creek bed was dry but it was a nice hike nonetheless. Papa said
the creek used to flow year round, even at the higher elevations,
until a large earthquake struck the island in 1979. After that the
flow pretty much stopped and was diverted to the opposite side of the
island. I looked around at the towering Vesi trees and thick bush
surrounding the once flourishing creek bed and admired mother nature’s
resilience and adaptability to changing conditions, even when she
created them. Of course if humans had decided to dam up the creek and
stop the water flow instead of mother nature the islanders would
probably have Al Gore himself show up in his private jet to protest
the pending inhalation of the entire island and a certain rise in sea
levels of 50 feet. The Washington Post would then run front page
headlines lionizing his efforts to not only save a small pacific
island, but also the entire world as this was the very spot all life
originated from, including the internet and Oprah Winfrey.

Anyway, we hiked back down and noticed a nice pool of water about a
tenth of a mile from the water flume spot we had measured earlier.
Papa wisely suggested we measure the water flow here even though I was
ready to book it back to the village for some lunch. We made another
make shift damn with rubber exercise tubes and a sailor hat and
managed to calculate a much better flow of 42 litres in 1 minute, 25
seconds. This calculates out to .50 litres per second, almost five
times higher than the first reading. Unfortunately my GPS was up to
the same tricks and never would give a consistent reading. The best I
could tell was it was about 100 feet lower. Papa also pointed out the
fresh water fish living in the pond; a good sign of consistent water
presence and thus flow.

We walked backed to the village with a successful day of somewhat
scientific analysis under out belts and a litter wiser to what the
island has to offer in regards to hydro power.

Courtney, her mom Nancy, and Rachel Z. came for a visit last week.
They arrived on Tuesday and left on Thursday morning. It was quite an
eventful visit as Wednesday was Vaitupu Day. This is the day they
celebrate their homeland, Vaitupu, and reflect on where they
originated. In Tuvalu, Vaitupu day is a celebration of paying off a
debt owed to foreign countries. The celebration follows the same
pattern as other festivities such as Sunset Day, Kioa Day, etc. The
chiefs and elders sit at the poles, eat quickly while the ladies sing
three songs, and then give random speeches about how everyone is going
to burn in hell unless they repent from their evil ways. There was a
competition fatele at the morning service but since only the elders
where in attendance it petered out rather quickly. The elder
drummer’s stamina isn’t quite at the same level as the youngsters.
Overall, it was a good experience for our visitors as they had the
chance to see the raw culture of the island and experience the joy of
their dance and song and the pain of their painfully long speeches and
processes.

The day following Vaitupu day we left early to Nakia Resort on
Taveuni. We dove Rainbow’s End and The Fish Factory and the
experience was phenomenal. The equipment was immaculately maintained
and most of it brand new. The boat was pristine with professional
service and constant attention to safety. In the 12 dives we had been
on prior to this one, never did we feel more confident in the
instructors and equipment.

The resort and it’s owners where even more impressive. Robin and Jim
Kelly have lived in Fiji for seven years and have operated Nakia for
two of those years. Jim is a lawyer from Northern California and has
since turned into quite the expert on alternative energies. His
self-taught study of these technologies has produced a complex system
of hydro, solar, and wind that powers their entire resort. He was
very hospitable with his time in walking me through how he set it all
up and the way in which the technologies harmonize to power the
facility. He even went so far as to print out about 30 pages of
research he had done to share with the islanders and help us in
starting our hydropower project.

The other rare thing about the resort was the way in which it blended
in with the environment. Even though the facilities where world class
and extremely comfortable, the natural beauty of Fiji still permeated
through the man made structures. Such a balance is indeed rare.

We had planned to leave that afternoon to the Matai area to stay at
budget backbacker’s lodge but Nancy was kind enough to let us to stay
in their bure. To make things even better, Robin also invited us for
a huge Thanksgiving feast that evening. This was an amazing
unexpected blessing and the food was better than most of the
Thanksgiving dinner’s I’ve had back home. We had ribs, turkey,
dressing, gravy, biscuits, fresh salad, beans, mashed potatoes, and
upside down passion fruit cake with ice cream. I would have never
thought such a combination of foods in Fiji was remotely possible. A
couple from Texas on their honeymoon, a Catholic priest from a nearby
church, and a couple from New Zealand also joined us for dinner. The
fellowship was hearty and warm and we will never forget the
hospitality offered us that day.

The next day we headed up to Lavena Lodge. This is a small four-room
lodge at the end of the road on the windward side of Taveuni. Since
this side of the island receives the blunt force of the trade winds
and thus rain, it is a lush tropical landscape complete with bountiful
rainforest, amazing beaches, and gushing waterfalls. There is a 5km
coastal walk from the lodge that follows the coastal line and then
turns up a large river to a cozy grouping of two large waterfalls.
Since it had rained heavily the night before we where unable to forge
the current up the channel to the waterfalls but could still gaze at
their beauty from afar. We will most definitely make a return trip in
the dry season to see their beauty up close. The story goes that
Return to the Blue Lagoon was filmed just around the point from the
lodge. We watched the movie just before leaving for Fiji and the
backdrop does resemble several of the scenes.

The next day we snorkeled at Waitabu Marine Park, and were blown away
by the amount and variety of fish we saw. Lonely Planet’s description
of this park does not do it justice. This is by far the best
snorkeling we’ve experienced, and the water clarity is well over 70
feet if not 100. The local guide was very friendly and informative
and helped point out the major features of the park. We were amazed
that just 11 years ago the fish and coral where decimated from the
1998 El Nino, and now the area was a lush haven for fish and coral
alike. Seeing the ability of Mother Nature to recover from a natural
disaster first hand was humbling and inspiring.

That night we walked the beach and enjoyed a spectacular sunset. Our
village is situated where we miss both the sunrise and sunset so these
where special treats. A group of children must have thought we looked
lonely and decided it would be fun to tag along. I was kind of mad at
first that they spoiled our moment alone, but it is hard to stay mad
at Fijian kids too long. They really are a lot of fun and when they
flash their pearly whites at you the heart has no chance but to melt.
We enjoyed the sunset over the blue lagoon bay while perched on a few
rocks at the point. As we were about to leave one of the kids pointed
at the cracks between the rocks and yelled. I looked down, and
between the rocks at my feet was coiled a rather large sea snake.
These are the most poisonous snakes in the world. Thankfully they are
pretty timid and their mouths are very small so their threat to humans
is relatively small, so I’ve heard. I’ve also heard that several
other snakes are ‘the most poisonous in the world’ but haven’t taken
the time to actually verify any of the claims. Anyway, it was quite
unnerving to see any snake below my feet regardless of their poison
content so I quickly skedaddled outta there!