Saying goodbye is par for the course when you travel by boat. The people you met ashore stay on land as you sail away. The friends you make on other boats sail in the opposite direction. Saying goodbye is something you get used to but it never gets easy. But when you miss the opportunity to say goodbye altogether it feels like something is missing.

I never got to say goodbye to Shelley.

I met Shelley on the island of Laipari in the Solomon Islands where we have been moored for the past several weeks. She worked at the local store and lived nearby with her husband and 5 children. Always welcoming with a friendly smile and bright eyes I found myself stopping to chat for a while whenever I went to buy a few onions or a bag of flour. One day she offered to lend me her coconut scraper and I ended up sitting in her thatched-roofed cook house for almost an hour talking about everything from how to make coconut rice to global warming to the intricate cultural differences between various Solomon Islanders. We had plans to make bread together and bake it in her 44gl drum oven.

Then one night she coughed up blood and Shelley’s husband chartered a local boat and took her to the nearest hospital 12NM away under the cover of darkness – not a trip I would like to do even in good health. The next time I was in town I made a point to go to the hospital to see her. She was jaundice and gaunt but greeted me with her usual smile and good humour. We chatted for a bit and she said she was feeling much stronger, she hoped she was on the mend. When I returned home I dug out a stack of magazines and sent them to her, something to take her mind off her dreary surroundings. A few weeks later, before I got a chance to visit again, her condition deteriorated and she was transferred to Honiara for further care.

Shelley died on Thursday morning. Continue reading

Sickness and Seashells

Last week was my birthday and with Steve away I was totally expecting to spend it by myself. I thought if the weather was nice I would go to town in the afternoon, find a nice little café, order a very decadent dessert and a glass of red wine and people watch for a bit. I had planned to stop at the butcher to pick out a nice steak (Vanuatu is renowned for its high-quality, farm-raised beef) so that I could cook myself a nice dinner, watch the sun set and read the stack of emails and well wishes I was sure everyone would send to me. Maybe if I was lucky the internet connection would actually be fast enough to have a brief chat to Steve. I might be all alone but that’s no reason to call off the celebrations.

Wasn’t I wasn’t expecting was to wake up on the morning of my birthday to an ear ache that progressed to stuffy sinuses, and then a few days later a sore throat and a few more days after that a hacking cough. Needless to say there was no cake, no steak and no wine.

So in lieu of Bday excitement, a little something that happened recently.

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