Chicken Skin

0800 Position 21-12S 159-47W. Moored in Avatiu Harbor, Rarotonga

There is a huge three acre open market every Saturday here in Avatiu right next to the harbor, and the whole island shows up. Most of the locals eat breakfast and lunch there at the food stands and do all of their produce shopping for the week. All of the tourists on the island show up to buy pareus, ukuleles and souvenirs. Piers went early to get fried flying fish for breakfast and we stocked up on fruits and vegetables.

At noon we picked up a rental car and took off on a circle island tour. Our first stop was the Rarotonga Yacht Club where Craig, who we met the day before, was the Commodore. We found Craig there and he introduced us to Stella Neale, the Vice Commodore. Stella is the daughter of Tom Neale, the hermit of Suwarrow.

I have a dozen or so books in my library that I will never part with. "An Island to Oneself", written by Tom Neale about his ten years of living alone on Suwarrow atoll, is one of them. I had read the book a couple of times and there was no mention made in it of a wife or family.

Suwarrow atoll in the northern Cook Islands was uninhabited when we arrived there in 1986 aboard my Ranger 33, Eleu. There probably wasn't another human within 400 miles. Tom Neale had been dead for ten years, but visiting yachtsmen who had read his book maintained his house, yard, and the pathway up from the beach. As we walked up the path for the first time we were surprised to see cats and chickens, descendants of those that Tom had with him on the island, running around. We passed a life size concrete bust of a man on the path with the inscription "Tom Neale lived his dream on this island". We knocked on the door to the house, called out, and received no response. We opened the door, entered cautiously, and found that Tom's kitchen had been converted into a book exchange for visiting yachts. Tom's bedroom remained as it was when he lived on Suwarrow. His bed was made and hanging on the wall above it was his machete with the name "Neale" carved into the handle. I had goose bumps.

We had this half mile long by quarter mile wide idyllic tropical island all to ourselves for two weeks. The island's beauty and isolation alone made it magical, but the history of the place made it surreal, and it was one of my most memorable experiences.

Unexpectedly meeting the author's daughter yesterday and discussing our experiences on the island were almost as special. She had known about the machete hanging over the bed, but heard that it was later stolen. The house has since been turned into a store room for the Cook Island caretakers who are now sent there annually during the cruising season to collect money from visiting yachts.

Tom was estranged from his wife when he wrote the book. He didn't write about his family because it didn't add to the story of a hermit living on a deserted island. Stella, is also the great grand daughter on her mothers side of William Masters, the man who established the settlement at nearby Palmerston Island. Stella's ninety two year old mother still lives on Palmerston. Stella is planning a re-release of her father's book with some additions by her soon.

Our next planned stop was the Shipwreck Hut, a bar voted as the third best beach bar in the world by CNN a few years ago. My wife Lori was related to Jim Bruce, the owner of the bar, through her first husband and recalled meeting him a few times on Maui years ago. We stopped at the bar and were directed to Jim's house a couple of blocks away.

Jim had been expecting us. His cousin Leslie Brey, a good friend in Hawaii, had sent him an email warning that we might come looking for him. He immediately invited the whole crew in for a beer and story telling session. We ended up spending the rest of the afternoon with him and we all went out to dinner later at a nearby restaurant. It turns out this larger than life character had sold the Shipwreck Hut shortly after it received the accolades from CNN.

What a great day.

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