The Tern's Turns

The other day, on my way home from work, I witnessed a show of almost epic proportions.  Two of the most beautiful birds on the island are the white tern and the frigate bird. Both are breathtakingly beautiful in flight.  A white tern and a frigate bird, which is more than twice the size of the white tern, were engaged is a mesmerizing aerial combat. The frigate bird was about two feet behind the white tern. Until that day I thought the white tern was the most skillful bird in aeronautics on the island. The frigate bird is most usually seen soaring most elegantly. But in this intense encounter, the frigate bird matched the white tern, high speed turn for turn. 

Frigate birds are opportunists, and from what I have observed of them, they may have a little mean streak in them. We were in Holbox, Mexico a few years back and I watched the frigate birds, soaring over the crowd of ocean birds, waiting for another bird to catch a fish. When another bird caught a fish, the frigate birds would dive on them and steal the catch. Then, the frigate birds would fight amongst themselves over the ill-gotten gains.

The white tern is most commonly observed in spectacular aerial ballet with a partner. I characterize its flying behavior as artful and stunning. The frigate bird, I see as being a bully. I can only imagine that the white tern was terrified, and was using every bit of its extraordinary flying prowess to avoid being taken by the frigate bird. I am sorry that I never witnessed the resolution of the combat between the frigate bird and the white tern. The last I saw them was when they disappeared over the ocean, geeing and hawing, rising and falling, at blinding speeds. I'll never forget THAT show!

What is she doing?

I am at Maliu Mai, a local watering hole set on one on the most beautiful shores of the island. There is an old folks band playing Polynesian tunes here, making for a magical experience.

Across the way is the entrance to the harbor, and I just watched the Queen Elizabeth sail out of port and round the south side of the island. She's headed for Western Samoa.

This island is covered with flowering shrubs and trees. And, just as those plants are constantly bursting out in bloom, Samoans burst out in song and dance. Tonight a couple of the beautiful matrons in the band got up and danced. Their scandalously suggestive moves had the crown roaring in laughter. These beautiful people love life!

House Guest

I have a house guest. She is the mother of a dear friend, and she is here from Western Samoan, visiting her daughter and granddaughter for a month. Her name is Sue, and she is helping me learn primitive Polynesian technology.

How to make a broom: Cut a coconut frond or two, and remove the individual long, skinny leaves from each frond. Pick a leaf, and, with a knife, near one end of the leaf, slice into the green part down to the rib. Then, simply run the knife along the rib for the length of the leaf. The green part of the leaf easily peels away. Flip the leaf around and repeat the procedure for the other side of the rib. Now, at the base of the leaf, the part where the leaf was once attached to the frond, strip the remaining green part away from the base of the rib, and slightly fray it. The whole process takes less than thirty seconds. Repeat this process for maybe three dozen leaves. What you have now is a pile of coconut leaf ribs, which are the straws of your broom. Sue did this day before yesterday.

 7 a.m. yesterday: she is sitting on my living room floor, cross legged. She would pick up three bundles, each of three or four ribs at a time, and braid the frayed ends of the three bundles together, leaving the other end of the rib loose.. She kept adding bundles of ribs from the pile, and in a very short time, had braided all the frayed ends of the ribs together. When she held that up, it looked much like a grass skirt-wrap. She then laid her creation on the floor, and commenced to rolling it up along the braided part. When she was done, she taped it secure, and she had her broom. It's about 2 1/2 feet long. Then, she got up and swept the floor with it. And then she mopped the floor (with my store-bought mop).

Yeah, this is my house. In American Samoa. How cool is that for a wannabe anthropologist? Pictures to follow. Oh, yeah. Put a handle on the broom and you have the preferred island tool for sweeping your yard.