Sorga-Millwood Under Solomon Skies

1. Auflage 2020
ISBN: 978-1-913090-29-6
Verlag: Jacaranda Books
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark

E-Book, Englisch, 420 Seiten

Reihe: Twenty in 2020

Jack and Toni, childhood schoolmates living in the Solomon Islands, set out on a routine boat trip to a neighboring island. Things go awry when they discover, due to an oversight by Toni, that they do not have enough fuel to make the journey and are stranded at sea. Optimistic at first that they will soon be rescued, they slowly begin to realize, as the first day draws to an end, that they are in serious jeopardy with no end but their own demise in sight. Based on a true story as the days lengthen at sea, we are gifted with a vision of the beauty of the Solomon Islands and the environmental debt they are owed by the world after decades of overfishing, logging and now rising sea levels due to global warming. At the heart, this is a crucial and important novel on climate change, culture and human relations.

Berni Sorga-Millwood has been writing for a number of years. She has studied at Goldsmiths and City Lit, and began her writing career as a children's writer. After living in London for several years, Berni relocated to Birmingham where she became a member of The Birmingham Writers Group. She writes about subjects that move and intrigue her and is currently working on her second novel.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Sorga-Millwood, Berni

Leseproben

AN INNOCENT DAY

The night before we left it was raining heavily. A cyclone was wreaking havoc across the Solomon Islands, devastating villages and bringing down trees. Each torrential drop of rain pounded down like a jackhammer on the corrugated roof above my head, so I didn’t get much sleep. It was nearly early morning when it eased up. I drifted off again, but wasn’t asleep for very long before some stupid cockerel with a death wish started crowing. I just wanted a little bit of peace and tranquillity.

I rolled over onto my side and groaned, shading my eyes from the beams of light already slithering in between gaps in the shutter. It was time to get up. Reluctantly I shu?ed out of bed, scrabbled around at the door and from the pile of clothes that had landed behind it, I pulled out my jeans, t-shirt and hooded top and got dressed. Then I went into the kitchen to search for food.

I discovered half a kumara and a handful of rice at the bottom of two pots left on the kerosene stove. The tuna fish, slippery cabbage and snake beans from dinner the night before was all gone, thanks to my greedy housemates. I extracted the kumara from the congealed coconut milk, and polished that off first, then the rice. It was cold but surprisingly palatable. After a quick cup of tea, I left the house and stepped over a pig foraging for food by the side of the veranda.

As I headed down to the beachfront to meet Toni, I spotted Mr Benisito on a stool outside his leaf hut feeding the chickens and called out, ‘Good morning!’ to him. ‘Morning Jack! Bad storm last night.’ He threw a handful of corn on the ground that sent the chickens into a feeding frenzy, clucking and pecking each other, scrambling for the grains.

‘Yes, it kept me awake, but at least it didn’t cause much damage here,’ I said, glancing around at several coconuts fronds blown off trees and lying on the ground.

‘We were lucky. Radio said it washed away some houses in Temotu and flooded a village in Makira.’

‘Is everyone safe?’

‘The villagers ran up the hill and hid in caves, so there were very few casualties apart from their animals. The army and Red Cross flew in this morning to assist them.’ It used to be the easy thing to pass the time with someone and talk about a subject that was neutral, like the weather. But lately, any talk was always tinged with a sense of foreboding.

‘It seems to be happening a lot more nowadays.’ As I said this Mr. Benisito’s eyes became pensive. He had seen a lot of changes here, not least the weather.

‘Where are you off to this early?’ he asked, pointedly ignoring the direction I had begun to take our conversation in.

‘To meet Toni, he’s taking me out on the boat.’

‘That’s right’, he said, ‘nice looking little vessel he’s got. Nice little business for one of us too’.

I nodded, ready to move on for the day. He took note and pulling his hat lower on his forehead said, ‘Take care son. The rain might have calmed the ocean but remember, we’re still at the tail end of the cyclone.’

‘I will.’ I waved and headed down towards the beachfront, passing a gingerly stepping woman carrying a load of dripping firewood strapped to her back, a determined look on her face.

When I arrived, Toni was already busy setting up. ‘Hey bro!’ he hollered, sauntering effortlessly towards me with the outboard motor casually slung over his shoulder. ‘Didn’t expect to see you so early.’

‘Couldn’t sleep.’ I touched fists to greet him. ‘Can I do anything?’

‘It’s all sorted.’

I got up to inspect the boat. It was approximately three metres in length and one and a half metres wide, with sides of about three quarters of a metre high. The bow at the front was fitted with a small cabin. The top of the cabin was a trapezoid with a depth of about a metre. From the cabin to the stern, the sides sloped gradually downwards. It was also fitted with three low benches, one at the back, one in the middle and another near the front near the cabin.

When I first came across the aluminium boats, I thought they looked rather insubstantial and flimsy. But I’ve since learned they are some of the strongest, most resilient and safe vessels, yet lightweight in the water. I realise now after a few journeys in them that they are one of the best. Toni’s boat could go anywhere. It was built to last, and could be driven at speed across reefs without damaging the hull, something you could never do with the fibreglass or wooden ones. Unlike them, it didn’t need constant maintenance and repair every few months. Even so, it wasn’t perfect in every way. Because it was made out of aluminium, it had a tendency to roll and bounce on the water, which made people seasick, and only when it was loaded down with goods could you guarantee a decent trip in one. It was also hot and uncomfortable in the sun and cold against your skin in the shade.

But I wasn’t going along for the comfort, it was purely to do with the money he promised me for accompanying him to drop off Martha. We had agreed on ten dollars. I know ten dollars doesn’t sound much to most people, but in my situation it was a lot better than nothing. I had my share of financial problems in the past, the worst being due to a thief name Jacob who ripped me off for thousands of dollars and left me penniless. I could feel the familiar anger and sadness rising in me, and I fought quick and hard to drive the feelings back down. It was really hard to think about starting all over again, it’s not that I had tons of opportunities but what other choice did I have?

I must have looked funny because Toni suddenly jumped up and stretched, bringing one long arm down and smacking softly on the back of the head with his palm. ‘You sure you don’t mind missing church?’ he teased.

‘You’re kidding aren’t you?’ I said, swatting his hand away grateful for the distraction. I laughed. I was glad to get away that Sunday morning to avoid the early service—not that I’ve got anything against religion. It’s just that it can be a bit much as the whole of Harapa village went to church on Sundays and you’re expected to go twice in one day. Everyone all dressed up in their finest clothes looking pristine and faintly judging anyone even slightly out of step with the sentiment of the day. The only people that didn’t go were those who were sick or working away.

‘Looks like you’re going to church this evening,’ he said mockingly, ‘The whole village will notice that you’re missing the morning service.’

‘And you too. You live here now remember,’ I added knowing missing lotu was frowned upon. I guess that’s one of the drawbacks of living in a small village.

I turned my thoughts back to our trip. We were picking up another passenger, a girl from the village I don’t remember meeting before. I asked Toni ‘What’s Martha like?’

‘You’ll get on well with her,’ he grinned. ‘She’s a bit of a talker, but lovely.’ We leant against a tree watching the village come to life. Young girls filled up plastic buckets and kettles at standpipes to carry back home to make tea. From the outside kitchens fires were lit and smoke rose up from them like mist, curling into the early morning sky. Men, women and children, hurried off in different directions to designated toilet areas at opposite ends of the beach.

Toni nudged me in the ribs. ‘Here she comes!’

Martha strode confidently towards us, a large, woven bag slung casually over her shoulder. ‘Morning!’ she announced cheerfully, ‘Hope I haven’t kept you waiting.’

‘No we’ve only just finished setting up,’ Toni replied. ‘The boat is ready to take you back home.’ She nodded thanks and they began talking about the trip and the remnants of last night’s storm. Toni reassured her, ‘You should have a good journey, the water is calm from the rain last night.’ She handed him the bag to put in the cabin on the boat. Toni took the bag and then turned to me and said, ‘My friend Jack is coming with us today.’

She smiled, extending her hand, ‘Nice to meet you Jack.’

‘You too!’ I shook her small, soft hand and felt a little self-conscious.

We put the other goods and food her relatives gave us in the cabin, then she climbed in and settled on a bench near the stern. ‘It will be lovely to have someone else to talk to on the long journey,’ she said politely.

The boat manoeuvred relatively easy out into the water. I clambered in as it drifted, waving to the people on shore then sat down on a bench near the bow. As soon as Toni started the engine, Martha came forward and sat beside me. I could feel the warmth of her body and the weight of her thigh next to mine. She smelled softly sweet and womanly. I felt embarrassed because of her close proximity and looked behind at Toni for support. But instead of helping, he just raised his eyebrows, pursed his lips and made kissing gestures.

‘So Jack,’ Martha smiled. ‘How do you know Toni?’ After I told her how we met, she began to talk non-stop and never seemed to pause for air. Her head was full of information she just had to share with me, regardless of whether I was interested or not. ‘I lived in Harapa for most of my life you...