Even More Adventures (I've lost track of the months)

Bunkering

Ok 'bunkering' isn't a word but it best describes a daytrip to Lenger Island in the Pohnpei lagoon.  This little island is near my front deck and has some cool old relics from the Japanese era.  Great, I wanna go.  Some really cool adventury people arranged a daytrip to Lenger via outrigger canoe, based on the same style vessels that delivered migratory Pacific Islanders to these islands hundreds of years ago.  Ok fine, early migrants weren't using fiberglass.

After parking our canoe, we wander into the thick jungle until reaching a small opening in the side of a hill not unlike the hole where Alice fell down into Wonderland.  Inside is a dark dungeon of tunnels and rusted machinery.  Keep in mind, there are no signs, no markings, and no infrastructure suggesting that this is a tourist attraction.  It is actually an abandoned system of underground fuel storage tanks.  Lenger used to serve as the airplane fuel supply station during WWII, so we were climbing and crawling around and into these gigantic tanks underground.

Below the earth there is a huge cave some 260 feet in length.  It is completely dark underground, but there are many earthen pipes installed along the walls.  In the corner, there is a huge machine that looks like a rusty pump engine sitting quietly.  The storage tank is believed to have held 5,000 tons of fuel which could be pumped directly to the fuel supply jetty through these many earthen pipelines. 
-Pohnpei Ecotourism Travel Guide

Here I stepped in a nice pile of guano, not once but twice

 

Oh, just hanging out in the crawl space

What I found interesting about our group dynamic, was that no one was hesitant.  The tunnels were dark and damp and crawling with rats and spiders.  We disturbed many bats while climbing the 60 foot rusted ladders into a 3 foot crawl space and back down into the giant metal storage tank room.  Upon exiting, we were drenched in sweat and covered in a lovely mud/guano paste which was soon forgotten with a quick dip into the lagoon.  Thank you to Yvonne and Alex for organizing the trip and yes, I definitely want to join you for more activities in the future.

Descending into the tank

Photo courtesy of Doreen Bessing

Sketch courtesy of Alex Zuccarelli

Climbing Things

The most prominent and recognizable physical feature of Pohnpei is Sokehs [SO-kez] Rock.  Sokehs island protrudes into the lagoon from Kolonia town, with the iconic rock cliff standing bravely at the head of the island.  They say that you can climb it, but that it's a "tricky" or "sketchy" climb and that you have to wait for a day when there hasn't been rain.  (Did I mention that Pohnpei is the rainiest place on earth averaging an annual rainfall of 200-400 inches?)  

Okay, climbing team assembled and dry sunny day ordered.  Sneakers, water, hat, check.  Transport to the base of the hike is via pickup flatbed, the preferred way to travel in Pohnpei.  The first half hour is a rugged uphill hike over slippery rocks through dense sauna jungle.  Many hikes here require the hire of local guide.  Yvonne arranged for Miller [MY-lar] Benjamin, a former high school principal and son of a local Nahnmwarki (king), to lead us atop the rock.  So this nice older man is completely schooling us on the hike up.  He's wearing flipflops/jandals/sandals/zories and swiftly glides along the slippery rocks like he's skiing uphill.  In no time, I am definitely winning for most sweatiest.  Then we reach the part where there are ropes.  Miller says, "There is a metal pipe which goes to the top carrying wires for a beacon light but in some places, the pipe is rusted away with exposed live wires.  Also there is a rope to hold onto, but in some places the rope has been damaged by the sun and is like razors or has broken."  This begins the part of the hike where, if you fall, you are fucked.  In the first scary part, we hold onto the rope while traveling sideways along a vertical cliff that is wrapped by thick vine trees.  It's cool and fun and adrenaline pumping.  
We reach a flat part and give high-fives and take a water break, go team!  And then we see the assent to the top.  HOly fuck.  (I have to swear in this post, otherwise you won't understand the severity.)  I mean, it's so ridiculously dangerous that we are just laughing out of fear.  Sure, I'll go first.  Adrenaline takes over rationality, and I climb alternating between holding onto sharp fiberglass rope and burning hot black metal pipe.  This is until I reach the part where there is no foot hold, rusted ragged live wire pipe, and no more rope.  Maybe this is what they meant by "tricky."  Somehow falsely assured by the team behind me, I continue, and miraculously we all reach the top.

With shaky hands we fumble with our cameras to capture the panoramic views.  The Japanese used the plateau on Sokehs as both a strategic military lookout and also as a pineapple plantation?  Just as we're sucking down water and patting ourselves on the back, we see a solid curtain of rain on the horizon coming our way.  Without a chance to mentally prepare for the sheer rock face that we must grapple down, we hurry to beat the downpour.  The descent is so much scarier as you can see directly down to your death rather than focusing on the rock above.  With shaky legs and fiberglass filled fingers, we arrive back down to sea level, and once again, I have won the sweaty contest.       

Here is a shot looking straight down.
Notice the pipe/rope in the bottom right corner...

 

Halloween

The annual halloween party is at the Rusty Anchor.  Remember when I wrote about Prom and wished I had shopped at super savers?  Costume prize awarded.

On actual halloween night, I was ill-prepared for trick-or-treaters.  I live 15 minutes outside of Kolonia town along a very rural stretch of road.  While I wave to all of my Pohnpeian neighbors on my early morning jogs, I am naively unaware that they know a) about trick-or-treating or b) where I live.  Welp I was wrong.  After a full day of work at the hospital, I was relaxing on the deck, in the hammock, reading my book, sipping some wine when my guard dogs Pak and White start barking.  (These are the best guard dogs ever, by the way.  They always bark bloody murder when an unknown person walks up the driveway.)  I find a Pohnpeian girl circa age seven in a scary monster mask with her mother at my doorstep, and they have come from next door for candy.  Oops, I completely forgot!  In a quick act of improvisation, I steal into the extra large M&M bag in the fridge, and portion out into a plastic baggie.  Apparently Pohnpeians aren't concerned that I'm trying to poison them.  Because we are also having a cultural intersection, using simple English, I have invited them inside to sit and offered something to drink and asked about their family and their health.  It is a beautifully awkward five minutes.  Pfew glad that's over.  In about a half hour the same girl returns with a teenage boy.  Oh, you also want candy?  Later, two more little girls arrive unchaperoned with no costumes.  They come inside and awe at the splendor of a menwai house.  I'm almost surprised they did not open the fridge and help themselves.  Then four older teenage boys arrive.  Having dispersed all of the remaining candy, I am resolved to become the halloween grinch that shuts off the lights and hides inside while Pak and White go nuts at all the kids on the street at night.  Kinda like the Simpson's episode where Grampa whines "I'm scared and there are teenagers after me."