Cutting the Dragon's Tail

by Lynda Chidell

  The need for variety in our diet made such visits necessary from time to time. The legacy of the Illois who had lived on Boddam was a small number of surviving fruit trees, among them a number of high yielding lemons, an orange, a grapefruit and some limes. Also, there were a couple of huge breadfruit trees. Earlier cruising visitors had left maps showing the position of papaya, bananas and guavas. We tried several times to locate these, but either the land was too overgrown to reach them or they had long since died off. We did discover a curious fruit for ourselves in our need for something new. We had never seen its like before but were daring enough to try it anyway. The fruits were waxy ovoid blobs which grew in clusters on the trunk of a small tree. They were pale lemon green in colour with a very astringent juice. Boiled or stewed with sugar they were very similar to stewed apple. We later learned that it was a common fruit in the tropics and went by the name of billing. Apparently it has a very high vitamin C content.

  There were still a number of buildings standing on the isle, although they were in a very dilapidated state when we were there. It could hardly be described as a ghost town, as one never got the impression of any number of buildings together. Each was isolated from its neighbour by the overgrown vegetation. It was saddening to see these lovely old stone and timber buildings tumbling down. The roof of the church had long gone, but all the walls still stood and there were even a few old pews left. Weeds grew up through the flagstone floor and all the doors had gone, but there were still a few panes of the stained glass windows intact.

  One of the houses had been officially designated the yacht club by the British representatives down on Diego Garcia. They kept a log book there for the use of the yotties to record their presence on the atoll and to record any events or discoveries. There were, too, pots of paint and drawing materials for our use. The idea was to decorate the walls of the clubhouse with a patchwork mural. Each visiting boat was expected to add something to commemorate their stay. Several previous visitors had restored bits of old furniture they had found on the isle and installed them in the clubhouse. There were still several serviceable rainwater tanks and the gutters leading to these worked well. In addition there were a couple of wells, but the water from these tended to be a bit brackish. We never needed to avail ourselves of either as we had sufficient tankage to manage between tropical downpours when we were able to replenish our supply.

  The ruins were mainly domestic dwellings, but there were one or two copra sheds still standing. One of these had a roof and quite a lot of heavy lifting tackle suspended from the girders. There was a rail track from this building to the jetty and the chassis of a small rail cart on the lines. Altogether it was a place for the imagination to run riot, wondering how the inhabitants had done this and that, who had lived where, and so on.

  Exploration of all the other islands was also done over the weeks we were there. Sometimes we sailed in Knot Often, sometimes we rowed or motored in Bizzy (my 'rubber duck'). Each of the isles had something new to offer; either unusual shells, different birds, food not available elsewhere, or simply a change of scenery.

  We also enjoyed snorkelling over the coral heads - sometimes purely for the pleasure of seeing the brightly coloured corals and fish, but more often because we hadn't caught any fish for days and fancied something fresh to eat. On these occasions we could take giant clams from the coral - delicious eating, but only after they had been left in clear water for twenty-four hours to cleanse their innards!

  We had heard along the grapevine about the delicious meal one could have if one could locate and catch a coconut crab. On one expedition Tony and Peter managed to do so, and they also found some turtle eggs. We always tried to weigh the effects on the environment of our using such things for food against our own needs of survival it was obviously important that we should have a fresh, balanced diet. We were aware of the desperate struggle for survival faced by some species of turtle. Although hundreds of eggs are usually laid just beneath the sand on a beach, very few of the eggs or baby turtles survive the attacks of rats, other rodents, sea-birds and man. Those that do have to contend with yet more dangers once they reach the sea. We had not had any eggs for so long that we thought that just once we would try some. We also succumbed to the temptation of the coconut crab on two occasions but desisted when we learned that they are, in fact, a protected species known as 'The Queen's Crabs '. The only other meat we had on one occasion was an adult turtle. Peter had caught and killed one, but he had no means of preserving the flesh. In order that it should not be wasted, we all joined in the eating of it. We made it clear, though, that we did not wish to see any more caught.

  For the record, coconut crabs are large land crabs which somewhat resemble lobsters. They live in burrows dug out of the boles of palm trees. The crab's pincers are huge and capable of cracking open a mature coconut - its staple food. One average sized crab provides sufficient meat for a meal for three people, it is so large.

  Turtle eggs look just like ping-pong balls. They are almost identical in size, and dent in a similar way because the shell is leathery rather than brittle. Though I am told they scramble well, we did not cook ours that way. I chose to hard boil them, which was a mistake as the white never set! What we ended up with was a yolk just like that of a chicken's egg when hard-boiled, but with a runny white.

  Turtle meat is very like veal and, surprisingly, does not have anything of a sea taste. No further turtles were caught during our stay on the atoll. I hope it was as a result of our dislike of killing such beautiful creatures and our concern for their numbers. It was very hard to reconcile our needs with our ethical feelings when, on such a remote isle, turtles appeared to be so abundant. Nor was it easy to retain our principles when we knew that others elsewhere, with less needs than our own for fresh food, were heedlessly harvesting whatever they could catch. It was good to discover during our travels that the majority of cruising folk are reasonably sensitive in this respect. Most would take only what was needed for personal consumption and even then they would be selective. To give an example, one young couple we met were expert crabbers. But they always examined the crabs they caught never taking females with eggs.

  Earlier I mentioned some details of the coconut. The reader may be interested to know just how many ways we were able to use this very versatile fruit. When we first started our cruising I had little idea how to get a coconut open, let alone how many parts of it I could use. The young coconut was best for quenching the thirst. It also had edible flesh, but as I explained earlier, this was very jelly-like in consistency. A truly ripe coconut is one that has just fallen from the tree. It has a small quantity of very clear 'milk' and crisp nutty flesh. Once the coconut has been on the ground for some time - long enough to start 'sprouting’ - it has developed a spongy substance in the void. This sponge made very good eating indeed. Coconut cream can be obtained from the ripe nut, by draining the milk and grating the flesh into it. Once strained, this yields a creamy liquid which is delicious in cocktails, with chocolate powder, on cereals, or in curry sauces. Finally, the trunk of the very young palm tree can be stripped of its outer leaves to reveal a pale green succulent leaf which can be used in the preparation of 'millionaire's salad' also known as heart-of-palm, or palmiste. Where palms are under cultivation, usually at a spacing of about ten metres, heart-of-palm salads are not really practicable. It would be foolish to destroy a whole tree for such a small end result. But on Boddam we were more fortunate. The palms had gone so wild that they were much too close together, almost choking each other. It was easy for us to find a young tree for this delicacy.

  Breadfruit, too, is a versatile foodstuff. We used it generally to make chips, fritters and mash. But it can also be used raw as a salad ingredient, and when over-ripe its flesh can be scooped out and served with sugar as a sort of fruit fool. Unfortunately it had a flavour we soon grew tired of, and the sticky latex which covered everything during its preparation was also a bit off-putting. The fruits grew on relatively tall trees
, which we had to scale in order to pick them (we also tried harvesting them from the ground with long poles). Getting them tended to be a two-person job - one to climb the tree, and one to try to catch the fruit when it was dropped. It was not easy for the 'monkey' to return to earth with the fruit.

  Initially we were very sparing in our use of lemons as the trees from which we picked them were not particularly productive. It was only after we saw Peter with a bucketful that we thought of asking him where he had found his. To our surprise and delight, he led us to a small grove (four trees, I recall), where there were enough sound lemons lying on the ground to fill a number of buckets, and leave plenty more ripening on the trees. This really was treasure. We made jars and jars of lemon curd and bottles of lemon squash. The fruit juice made lovely salad dressings and was put to many other uses. Young lemon leaves were often used in the wrapping of whole fish inside aluminium foil prior to baking on a beach fire. The zingy lemon flavour was better than that obtained from the fruit.

  Quite frequently during our stay on Salomon, ships would pass close to the atoll. We habitually turned our VHF radio on at such times in case any of them tried to establish contact. We had heard, via the grapevine again, that the British authorities based an Diego Garcia made periodic visits to all the atolls in the archipelago. On or about 14th January we were delighted to hear a very British voice calling sailing boats on Salomon Atoll, and announcing that they were Brit customs. I grabbed the mike and responded to their call. It transpired that they had planned to call in at Salomon that day, but due to a very high running swell were unable to enter on the landing craft. They then proceeded to enquire what boats were in the anchorage (just us and Shahla) and whether we were in need of any assistance. Here was my opportunity to ask for help with the repairs. I handed the mike over to David, who had a far better idea than I of what was needed. A long conversation followed, with David giving details of what we required to carry out better - but probably still temporary - repairs to the foremast tabernacle. He requested they arrange to have made a steel plate of a certain shape with various cut-outs and notches (it was 'drawn' over the VHF) and that they bring this and a small portable welding plant to Salomon on their next visit, if possible. The customs and naval officers to whom we had been speaking agreed to see what could be organised but warned us that we would not know what could be done for at least four to six weeks.

  I'd like to make the point, here, that Diego Garcia is a port closed to civilians. Shipping, other than that having legitimate Naval business, is not allowed to visit the base for any reason. Attempts to do so are actively discouraged by both the US personnel and the British administrators, with good reason. It has been known for vessels to use the excuse of (faked) emergencies to gain entry in order to have a good snoop. (By his own admission, a well-known journalist, Simon Winchester, had done just this - thereby making it far harder for the genuine cases following in his wake.) Knowing all this in advance, we had deliberately not approached the authorities for assistance and at no time did we ask for any help other than the supply of materials and loan of equipment to carry out the repair work ourselves.

  Approximately six weeks after initial contact, we were visited by a small landing craft serving the supply vessel, the Alex Bonnyman, working out of Diego. The officer manning the high speed rigid hull inflatable boat brought a message that the 'Powers' at Diego Garcia had decided we should be granted restricted entry for the purposes of carrying out essential repair work in the dockyard. We had to decide on a date and were then given instructions on entry procedure. We chose Tuesday, 3rd March and proceeded to pack up at Salomon.

  Diego Garcia was some one hundred and thirty miles to the south, across the Great Chagos Bank. We had a terrific sail aboard Tin Hau on our way there. The excitement started from the moment we were leaving the lagoon, when there was an almighty tug on my fishing line. It took two of us to heave in whatever was on the other end. Tony and I hauled away and eventually had a five-foot shark dangling from the port quarter. At that moment, David needed help with the sailing of the boat - the coral reef was only yards away. The steel tracer was rapidly cut with a pair of pliers and we lost our catch and my best lure. We concluded that the Great Chagos Bank had been an enormous atoll with a series of islands around its perimeter. As we approached this rim at high speed at quarter to three in the afternoon, we prayed the chart was correct and that we would not hit the coral. It was thrilling to watch as the inky nothingness of the ocean changed to azure blue. Suddenly we could see all that was going on beneath the boat. I caught a fish on the trolling line, nabbed by a shark before I could haul it in. Seconds later I had hooked another, but this was tailless when landed. Third time lucky, and we landed a fair sized bonito. But the echo sounder never did show less than twelve metres, and after four minutes it increased to twenty metres (eighty metres was the deepest we recorded inside the lagoon). At ten minutes to nine we crossed over the southern edge of the bank, with depths of fourteen metres, and we entered, once again, the deep waters of the Indian Ocean.

  Twenty-two hours after setting off from Salomon, we had logged one hundred and twenty-five miles and were tacking back and forth outside the entrance to Diego in a moderate sea. While doing so, something occurred which we had been fearing for some time. Another of the temporary stays holding the tabernacle together snapped. Fortunately the mast held. Once again we had come so close to losing it, this time only a few miles away from the place to which we had come to deal with the problem.

  We continued to tack back and forth while waiting for the escort which had been detailed to cover our arrival. We were overflown by a military surveillance aircraft and we could hear the pilot reporting our presence to the port controller as 'a vessel that looks like a Chinese junk cruising up and down at the entrance passage'. This caused us some amusement and we took great delight in prancing around on deck making 'Chinese eyes' at the plane. After a few communications problems had been cleared up, we were guided to the quarantine buoy where we were moored. We were then boarded by a group of Royal Marines. After our recent experience of authorities and officialdom in the Seychelles, we were anxious to say the least. How different this turned out to be! Never before had we been received with such efficient, courteous and pleasurable treatment on arrival in a new place. All formalities were dealt with in record time. It was explained to us what plans had been made for the repairs and that I would be allowed ashore (under military escort) for the purpose of visiting the dentist. Tony would also be allowed ashore (under military escort) so that he could phone his wife, Sharon, and David would have to stay on the boat in order to receive the men from the boatyard. None of this was in any way unexpected apart from the fact that we were being allowed ashore at all and we were more than willing to comply with whatever security measures they wished to take. Our only concern was that we should have the repair work done so that we could continue our voyaging without the worry of the foremast tabernacle giving way completely. Once we had reached agreement with the Marines, they indicated they would leave us to get a few hours sleep and that they would return to escort Tin Hau to the dockyard in the afternoon.

  As soon as we had tied up in the inner basin, we had a swarm of boatyard personnel on board to examine the damage with their critical professional eyes. There were so many of them we despaired of ever sorting them out into individuals. Not helped by the fact that at least three of the gentlemen involved were known as Bill. Inevitably the boatyard came to be known by ourselves as 'Bill's Boat Basin'.

  The Bills made several proposals as to how the job could be tackled, and each proposal was accompanied by an estimate of time and cost. As soon as one of the plans had been approved and the relevant paperwork and the transfer of funds completed, preparations for work began. Within two days of arrival, everything that could be moved from the chain lockers and the deck was lifted ashore. The sail, foremast and windlass were taken off. Tin Hau had to be turned in her berth to allow easier access for heavy lifting equi
pment. The new orientation meant that dust from grinding work would blow into the sea. Then the real work commenced.

  From seven in the morning till seven in the evening we heard again all the noises associated with steel boat building. While all this was going on we had numerous visits from the British customs officers (Royal Marines doing double duty) and naval staff who, because of the restrictions imposed on us, came to entertain and help us in any and every way they could. We had an exceptional opportunity to meet and get to know a few of those wonderful people who, in peacetime particularly, we all take so much for granted. I believe I speak for all three of us when I say that it was a rare privilege to have met the men and women serving in the Royal Marines and the Royal Navy on Diego Garcia at that time.

  While we were in Diego Garcia, Tin Hau celebrated her first birthday. Although we were unable to go ashore, people ensured that we celebrated the event in style. In fact, we did so three times over. The first party, the night before the actual date of the launch, was more of an impromptu party - the Filipino labourers brought a crate or two of beers to share with us and I ended up inviting them all to eat with the crew. The Bill contingent arrived with loads of bottles the following night. The Brits devised the celebrations for the following day and baked a huge cake in the galley ashore (half eaten by the dog); and with a gigantic tray of artistically presented Sushimi and loads of bubbles to wash it all down, they really did Tin Hau proud.