Thursday 10th November 2016
Moturina Island, Louisiades, October 2016
11 degrees 04.543S
152 degrees 34.480E
5.9m sand, coral
|2XS from Daisy's house|
Moturina was our first stop with Michael after a day or two on Misima, the main island of the Louisiades. We had met Daisy before, and she was very keen for us to visit with Michael.
|Daisy and me before my fall|
In the morning we went for a walk around the village.
All very pretty and peaceful.
Pete was fascinated to find a very big boat under construction. It is to be a cargo ship for the island, and it is a rather daunting task, all done by hand, with no master plan, just a lot of expert local knowledge.
Daisy came out to the boat for a few hours, and read some of my magazines, with quite a lot of interest. Then she went back to her house to prepare our dinner – we had donated a frozen chicken, noodles, onions, garlic. I had also given her a lot of stuff from our stash – sewing materials, reading materials, clothes, drawing pins, new thongs for her and her niece, Patricia, who lives with her.
Daisy thought we were lovely people and that I was a very nice lady…
|Daisy and Michael|
Oh deary me…I am glad I need never see her again; I blotted my copybook…
We were due at Daisy’s at 6.30 and at 5.00 Pete offered me a gin and tonic. Very nice thank you. I sipped it in a genteel fashion, chatting pleasantly to Pete and Michael. Then he made me another one…This was anot a huge amount of alcohol for me; I usually do have two drinks before dinner, and sometimes a glass of wine or two as well. So…WHY did I get to Daisy’s house, install myself in the one and only chair, and fall asleep with my head lolling back against the wall??
I remember very little of the dinner. Pete didn’t say much…but Michael didn’t spare me.
“Mum you were HILARIOUS last night!!”
Oh no…was I?? What did I do??
Well…apparently I slept very heavily in my red plastic chair, and then I would wake every now and then to say, in loud and anguished tones, “Daisy, oh Daisy, what do you do when you have nothing to read? WHAT do you read? How do you cope?”
Poor Daisy looked at me, Michael said said, with glee, and said, rather puzzled, “Well I just don’t read.” But this did not shut me off…Off I would go, back to sleep, and then I would wake again to ask her the same question…
Michael was a bit amazed, as well as amused. “What happened to you, Mum? Two gins and you re falling over drunk??” I have no idea…but he came up with a theory. I was tired and emotional, overwhelmed at being reunited with my one and only son. And I was dehydrated and hadn’t eaten enough during the day. OK, good-o, I will take any excuse! But I never want to go back to Moturina…
|beachpig and dinghy|