I was asked by
my Banaban and Japanese companions after we left
Banaba about the article I would write for the
newsletter on our recent adventures. I explained
that I felt it would be extremely difficult to put
into words such a moving and highly emotional
experience. I also added that I felt it would be
very hard to share such an episode with others,
especially for those who have never been there. My
two Banaban companions and stars of our upcoming
documentary - Thomas Teai and his son Donald both
unanimously told me that ‘I must!’ They went on
to insist that if was ‘my duty’ to tell others
of our experiences on Banaba. I don’t know if it
was because of our TV Director’s new Banaban name
- Tikiraoi Aoto, but he also insisted that I had to
write about the event. So here I am trying to put
into words an experience that once again seemed to
greatly impact on my life. As many of our readers
will already know, I have studied the history of
Banaba for years, conducting many interviews in the
process, and had dreamt of visiting the island one
day. Because of restrictions with space, I have
broken my story into two Parts, writing only about
our Banaba leg. Mr. Aoto has insisted that he could
put together another documentary on what went on
‘behind the scenes’ on what he insists has been
the hardest and most adventurous trip he has ever
experience in his long career that has taken him to
more than 60 countries. I hope I do the story
justice! Stacey
‘VISITING
BANABA FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME’
Part
One
Setting
Sail
We left the main
wharf in Tarawa at 6pm on Tuesday 25th. February,
aboard ‘F.V. Kaneati’. The
‘Kaneati’ a fishing vessel measuring just
under 100 foot in length had her hulls filled with
our luggage and Island cargo, together with 34
Banaban passengers who were returning to their
island. Also accompanying us on our trip was two
Deputy Secretaries from Kiribati Government’s Home
Affairs Department. Our own party consisted of our
three man Japanese crew - Director; Tikiraoi Aoto,
Kato Takayuki, Sound Recordist and Yasuhito
Shimamura, Cameraman. By this stage of our journey
Manabu Kitaguchi had already returned to Tokyo due
to work commitments, while the Japanese Interpreter
who we had prearranged to join us on the Banaba leg,
also unexpectedly had to fly out for Tokyo as well.
I suddenly found myself as a co-ordinator for a
Japanese crew with a Director who spoke very little
English, while the other members of the crew were
only conversant in saying - ‘Hello’. Luckily for
me Rabi Magistrate, Thomas Teai and his son Donald
who were chosen to tell the story of the Banabans
through the eyes of a father and son, spoke
excellent English. For those who have seen the 1975
BBC documentary - ‘Go Tell The Judge’ will
remember Thomas as the young Banaban man who was
Secretary to the Rabi Council of Leaders at the
time, and grandson of the well known Banaban elder -
Tito Rotan. Our readers may remember Donald as the
young Banaban who was sponsored by THE BODY SHOP
last November, to attend their Melbourne workshop.
He spent a week at our home prior to the event.
All
At Sea
As we happily
sailed into the setting sun heading south towards
the equator, the Banaban singing carried on the sea
breeze wiping across the small front deck of the
ship. We all settled down to make ourselves
comfortable around the kava bowl and an expected
thirty six hour journey across to the homeland. Our
ship seemed to gently rock its way through the
relatively calm swell, while your intrepid editor
found herself suddenly succumbing to the first waves
of seasickness. I was to spend the rest of my
journey quietly dying on a Banaban mat on the floor
of the ship’s fly bridge surrounded by Banaban
women and children. During my ordeal that night, I
member opening one of my blood shot eyes to see the
blazing light of Shimamura’s camera filming me in
all my glory. I was to sick to argue, but shuddered
at the thought of my revolting sickly image
broadcast to millions of viewers back in Japan… I
was sure to make a good impression!
Later the following
afternoon the word went out that our expected
arrival time on Banaba would be well ahead of
schedule. This was due to the assistance of ocean
currents and good weather This great news boosted my
nauseated spirits enough for me to stand on the fly
bridge and welcome the coming event. How can I
describe the isolation one feels when you look out
in all directions to see nothing but a wallowing
mass of endless water. It wasn’t until I heard the
mention of the word ‘birds’ that I could again
drag myself back up onto my feet, as I knew that the
birds flying out to our ship were our first real
indication that the island was close. Sure enough,
Banaba appeared as a tiny speck drifting on the
horizon of a magnificent sunset. As I savoured the
moment, my nausea quickly forgotten, we slowly drew
closer. Unfortunately for us it wasn’t close
enough though, as the day’s light seemed to
suddenly sink below the horizon. Once again word
went out that we would have to drift off the island
for the night, and wait for first light to land the
next day. So close, but yet so far, as I spent
another night huddled under the fly bridge as rain
squalls moved across the island and our ship. One of
the larger Banaban girls travelling with us ended up
soaked and I moved over on my sleeping mat so she
could find a dryer place to sleep. We made a great
pair, our bodies tightly sandwiched together behind
the navigation and steering equipment on the bridge.
My new friend spoke no English, but under the
circumstances no conversation was necessary as her
large, soft body smothered me from the chill coming
off the incoming rain squalls.
Land
at Last
At first light we
made our entry towards Home Bay. Out of the blue,
two small dolphins appeared swimming under the very
bow of the ship almost as an official ‘Welcoming
Party’ to the island. I tried to tell our Japanese
film crew standing on the front forward deck, but
they were completely unaware of the dolphins
swimming right under their feet. As we drew towards
the protection of the Bay, the dolphins disappeared
as quickly as they had arrived. For our party, our
most important first task was to make our
‘offering’ to the sea to appease the legendry
Goddess - Nei Tituabine. This was necessary to
protect us in the waters surrounding Banaba,
especially before attempting to land. Tobacco is the
traditional offering, each of us eagerly tossed
overboard a pack of cigarettes and a box of matches.
There has been a lot written about disembarking and
embarking arrangements on Banaba over the years. Of
course, in the years during mining the ship’s
would tie up on one of the mooring buoys off shore
in Home Bay. But nowadays there is no such luxury.
Our ship being to big was unable to enter the
islands boat harbour, and I was soon to find out
that the small aluminium dingy hanging from the
davit on the main deck was our landing craft. For
some reason I expected to see a flotilla of similar
type vessels come out to meet us, but was soon to
discover that our dingy was it…THE ONE AND ONLY
landing vessel. Amazing when you realised the extend
of not only the film equipment, passengers, luggage
and general cargo (I’d noticed a treadle
sewing machine and push bike amongst some of our
deck cargo) we were carrying, but we also had
at least 20 drums of fuel lashed to our deck as
well. Once again my imagination was working overtime
as I thought about having to be lifted via the davit
into our tiny awaiting craft. Happily the crew
removed some boards away from a hole cut in the side
of the ship, and we were able to crawl through the
space into our wallowing overladen dingy. It was
great to be in that small boat, sitting on a pile of
suitcases and other assorted luggage, while our
amazing cameraman - Shimamura captured our
experience, and the expressions of excitement…or
was that relief… on our faces!
My
First Impressions
It was great to see
the Banabans elation at seeing an old friend like
Thomas Teai arrive on the island. Thomas’ last
trip to Banaba had been over 20 years ago during the
time of the UK Court Case and the Judges’ visit to
the island. He seemed to have an endless supply of
relatives living there as well, and Donald was busy
meeting them all. After the formalities were over,
the island’s only car, a 4 wheel drive jeep,
whizzed us up the road to the old ‘Banaba House’
Guest House. Somehow for me, my arrival on Banaba
seemed a very familiar experience. I had the
incredible feeling that I had been there before, a
sense of de-je-vu as my eyes took in the immediate
scenery and matched them with the mental pictures
carried in my mind for so many years. After a
welcomed rest in a very comfortable bed and my first
taste of food in two days, we were straight down to
business, planning filming schedules and working out
what locations we needed to visit. I must add here,
that one of the few legacies from BPC days is great
plumbing and sewerage! Thomas was adamant that
before any work began we had to make a visit to one
of the only surviving Banaban te bangota’s (ancestral
shrines) to again leave an offering for Nei
Tituabine. This time to ask for protection whilst on
Banaba. The Island Manager, and Kiribati M.P.,
Burimone Biara led us down a walking track through
the old Recreation Club grounds, down past the old
open air cinema and down towards the site just above
where the old Uma village would have been located. I
wondered where Burimone was taking us when we left
the track and made our way through the thick scrub.
After a short distance we came across a small
clearing covered in coral pieces and a large square
shaped rock. Pieces of long stick tobacco were
already laid across the stone, and we once again
laid our packets of cigarettes and box of matches
around the shrine, while Burimone made a few
incantations. Now this important task was over we
were ready for the real work to begin, safe in the
knowledge that we had the blessing of Nei Tituabine.
My
Days of Discovery
Over the next five
days on Banaba we were busy filming at various
locations. One of these was a very important event
for Thomas and Donald as we walked up behind the
Hospital compound, and up past the heavy equipment
shed, and where I’m told the old phosphate stock
piles used to be located. Here the road stopped, and
once again we headed off the track, and moved
towards the overgrown forest of pinnacles and the
location of Thomas’ family village of Buakonikai.
I’ve often heard about the heat generated by the
mined out fields on Banaba, but I have to add here
that as we weaved our way through the bases of the
pinnacles amongst the overgrown, we found ourselves
sheltered from the hot sun. Also due to the recent
rainfalls there was an abundance of flowering shrubs
everywhere, assaulting our senses with beautiful
colour hues and heady scents, that seemed in such
contrast to the ugly tortured shapes of the
pinnacles. Burimone and his wife Alofe were our
guides and seemed to know exactly were we were
going. We walked for quite a while deeper into the
surrounding limestone forest until we came around a
bend to find an old concrete bunker at the end of
our path. The bunker was wedged into the base of the
surrounding pinnacles and we were informed that this
was the old explosives bunker where the dynamite had
been stored during the years of mining. At the side
of the bunker we began our climb up through the
pinnacles working our way to the summit. Here there
seemed to be a flower strewn walking trail along a
ridge that gave us a wonderful view overlooking the
old site of Buakonikai village. All the time
Shimamura filmed the experience, his heavy camera
precariously balanced on his shoulder. When our
Director ordered him to climb further out on to one
of the higher sharp rocks, I had to ask, if the
company paid ‘danger’ money for this sort of
thing. ‘No’ I was informed, all part of a
day’s work, and seeing Shimamura was young, good
experience for him.
A visit to
Buakonikai is a sobering experience, where the full
extent of eighty years of phosphate mining really
takes it’s toll on you. I listened intently as
Thomas told his son the story of where the
family’s village had been located, and how lush
and beautiful it had been. As Thomas spoke I had the
mental pictures of all those beautiful old black and
white photos running through my mind, trying to
picture the reality of what was now before me, and
the handful of stumpy palm trees growing high up
atop the stony pinnacles in pure rock, even after
three years of prolonged droughts.
I couldn’t help
but notice the emotion in Thomas’ voice as he
replied to one of Aoto’s many questions - ‘How
could anyone do this to another human being? This
was our village our home! Our identity! What have we
done to deserve this?’
I had to admit as
his words rang out across this devastated area, my
own emotions were raging. The feelings of anger and
sadness were all consuming standing there as I had
to ask myself the very same questions. Questions
that came back to the same old answer - Man’s
greed and phosphate.
We all silently
left the area, each of us locked in our own thoughts
and overwhelmed by the flood of emotions we had all
experienced. We returned to the Guest House for a
cool shower and welcomed rest, feeling very drained.
It was a day that would leave such an impression on
all of us, and prepare us for more explorations over
the coming days.
Mixed
Emotions
The only way I can
really describe my first two days on Banaba is of
feeling extreme emotions of pure elation; at finally
seeing and arriving on Banaba for the first time.
Complete joy; at meeting with the Banabans and
seeing how much they still treasure their island.
Amazement; seeing the lushness of unmined areas, and
nature’s efforts in trying to restore vegetation
amongst the mined out areas. Anger; at the state the
island has been left in from so much mining, and the
overall awareness of the extent of man’s greed.
Sadness; when I realise my family’s own
involvement in destroying the island, while at the
same time they loved the place so much. Yes, it can
be a very hard journey that assaults your senses,
and I’m sure most new comers will have many of the
same thoughts when they visit the island for the
first time. But what I found was amazing amongst all
the devastation, was that special MAGIC that so many
old BPC spoke about over the years, and every
Banaban dreams of, it’s still there! The best way
to discover the magic for yourself is to walk the
island, especially on your own. Late on the
afternoon of our second day, I took off for a walk
while the rest of the team were busy filming around
the old company buildings in Uma.
I’ve always had a
great fascination for the old Banaban villages, with
Uma village being of great significant to my own
family history. I headed off down towards Uma beach
and the vast expanse of what can only be described
as Banaba shrub. Today the shrub consists of tall
silhouettes of dead trees, while the lower bushes
have survived. To anyone seeing Banaba for the first
time and not knowing the history of the place, these
areas along Uma’s - Sydney/Solomon Point,
Tabiang’s - Lilian Point, and all around Canoe
passage at Tabwewa, just look like Banaba scrub, but
for me they signify important, and wonderful places.
Old Banaban villages that have been captured in old
photograph collections. The essential part of a
Banabans life and his heritage. Our Japanese team
weren’t interested in filming these areas, and I
suppose why should they be. After all they don’t
look particularly interesting today, and especially
after I reminded them that the invading Japanese
army destroyed each one of these precious coastal
villages.
So off I wandered,
down onto a wonderful pristine beach at the back of
Solomon Point, and the location of the old Uma
village. Amongst the reef, small rusting pieces of
old ship wrecks are still evident through the
beautiful, crystal clear water. The sand is pure
white and changes to flotsam and jetsam (small
pieces of bleached coral and shells) along the
shore line. I walked as far as I was able until the
high tide and the overhanging areas of coastal
pinnacles blocked my way along the beach. I then
walked up towards an old camp situated right on the
beach, and followed a trail along the back of a
cottage. Here I noticed the planting's of tapioca
and other vegetables. Since the droughts have
broken, the Banabans are clearing small plots all
over the island for vegetable growing. All around
this area right along the edge of the beach are
graves marked with concrete headstones and small
crosses. For some reasons my instincts told me these
were old Gilbertese graves. Further along other
graves were grouped, this time minus the crosses,
and these I assumed to be old Ellice graves. As I
made my way further along this coastal trail I came
across a very tall concrete monument, and was
excited when I saw the inscription to Dr. Matsuka
who had been the doctor with the Japanese labourers
who had arrived on the island in 1909. He died on
Nauru in 1911. I was to discover from my Japanese
companions at a later date, that what appeared to be
Japanese writing on the monument was in fact Chinese
and they were unable to decipher the message on it.
I decided to leave the beach area and soon found
myself on a wider track leading up towards the back
of the sporting oval. Here the sounds and the smell
of the island quickly assaulted my senses. The
overwhelming sense of isolation and silence are only
broken with the intermittent sound of the waves
breaking down on the reef, as they carrying up on
the gentle gusts of sea breeze. The thick canopy of
trees seem to overhang the track in many places and
I knew from my studies that I was in the area of the
old European and Banaban cemeteries. I was so
enjoying my walk and the sense of ‘belonging’ I
felt that I was reluctant to stop and head back. I
realised as I saw the last of the sun’s rays
breaking thought the surrounding vegetation, that it
would soon be dark and no one knew where I was. But
Banaba is such a safe, wonderful place, where I feel
so much at home, that I don’t hold any fears of
getting lost. I knew it wasn’t a good idea to move
off the tracks though as the forests of pinnacles
seem ever present. It appears that in the last few
years of mining, nothing was missed, even around the
roadway near the Guest house, the mining has eaten
right up to the edges of the roadway leading to the
hospital. Reluctantly I turned for home, and arrived
back at the guest house just on 6pm a very happy and
contented person.
Experiencing
the Magic of Banaba
From that moment my
appreciation of Banaba only grew. There was no more
curses at the ground under my feet, thinking about
what had been, but now I seemed to see the reality
of what Banaba was today. I began to notice the way
in which the Banabans living there in the old
Company buildings took such pride in their homes.
There was no rubbish laying around the island, and
even the old Company facilities were all cleaned
out, and tidied up. Large rolls of old steel cables
were all neatly stacked in the corner of one of the
old sheds. The visit to the old Trade Store was also
impressive. Many will remember the size of the old
Store. It is huge! Well over the past 18 months the
Banabans have started their own small co-op store in
the front of the building near the old Post Box. The
old counters and shelving have been utilised, and
even the old cash register (the keys stuck long
ago) is still used. I’ve never seen such a
neat array of stocked shelves. Across the road from
the Trade Store and hanging off a huge tree was a
very large bell. Is this the very same BELL that our
old BPC people have referred to in the past? And
what was it’s true function? Whatever the meaning
of the bell, it still hangs there in all it’s
glory. I was soon to find out that the money that
keeps the Banabans supplied with food on the island,
is only given in wages. Wages that are well and
truly earned in the maintenance and up keep of their
beloved homeland. The paths and walking tracks are
all cleared by hand, while every Friday working bees
are held to clean out all the rubbish from the old
buildings. The rubbish is being buried down by the
site of old Tabiang village. When you realise the
limited resources these people have, it is a real
credit to them to see the amount of work that has
been done. The only things they haven’t been able
to remove are the old rusted out chassis of some of
the old buses, trucks and machinery. They have no
way of moving and disposing of these big objects. It
was also interesting to see lots of old mooring
buoys stacked neatly along an area at the top of the
boat harbour. I wondered if it was possible to reuse
them.
The
True Inhabitants of Banaba
The other thing
that really strikes you about Banaba is the overall
health and appearance of the Banabans who live
there. I know my friend Manabu mentioned in his
article about his concerns over the amount of
imported food. Unfortunately Manabu could only stay
on the island while the supply vessel off loaded,
and this wouldn’t have given him enough time to
spend time in Banabans homes on the island. Also
when you realise the island only receives 3-4 supply
shipments a year, I can imagine the amount of
incoming imported food supplies looks large. In
fact, I’m certain this is not the case at all. In
the store there is plenty of the usual bags of rice,
powdered milk, bully beef etc., but what impressed
me was the fact that the Banabans spend nearly
everyday out fishing. And what varieties of fish
they seem to have… just like the old stories you
read about in the history books. The other exciting
aspect of the diet there is the fact that the
inhabitants seem to grow and eat a lot more types of
green leafy vegetables, and even watermelons. They
also eat the vegetables raw, which I haven’t seen
on Rabi. Because of the introduction of Fiji roots
crops on Rabi, the Banabans haven’t acquired the
taste as much for other different types of
vegetables, but this is now starting to change. It
was great to see the Elders on Banaba especially
munching away on fresh green leaves, that they will
proudly tell you they can produce for the table,
within 3 weeks when the rain comes. There’s an
abundance of chickens and fresh eggs (no
mongoose on the island like Rabi), and fat
healthy pigs that I had to admit tasted very nice. I
even had the opportunity to taste sweet dried
pandanus fruit, which was prepared in the
traditional Banaban way, and very delicious. The
other fruit that I must admit I took a likely to was
green mangoes. The Banabans did oblige by finding me
what they considered overripe fruit, but the green
mangoes I must admit really begin to grow on you.
The Banabans use them like a green salad vegetables
and the coconut vinegar is a nice accompaniment.
I’ve often heard them referred to on Rabi as Rabi
apples, but before Banaba had never been game enough
to try them. I’m hoping to use them in our salads
back home next summer. The other thing that Banaba
seems to have changed for me and after traveling
with Japanese and Banabans for 5 weeks is my new
liking for raw fish.
(To
be continued in Part Two - Coming soon!) |
