Island consternation.

I'm out in the shipping lanes, and well out of sight of land.

I have had a very strange encounter... and it's left me very puzzled.

Over the last week I have floated through a stunning archipelago of islands, each very lovely, but each as different as the last. Some seemed calm and peaceful, others warring and fractured.

One island in particular was very strange... I was drifting by, with no intention of going closer (particularly in light of my new medical troubles as identified here), when a small dugout canoe approached me, offering some sort of sticky fruit, possibly a papaya or paella or a pollo or something.

I hove to, and tethered their canoe onto the side of my raft and did enjoy a brief visit with the merchant.

Following that discussion, the merchant mentioned how pleased he would be if I came for supper with him. I tried to make an off-hand refusal, to casually imply that while I thought that to be a lovely invitation, undefined obstacles would prevent it. (I'm very reluctant to say to an islander "unfortunately, as I am very sick and likely to infect your population with hideous tropical fevers")

Thinking the matter concluded, I detached from the canoe and poled my way away. Not 15 minutes later, four canoes appeared, and beseeched me to return with them to the harbour.

I was hot, tired, sweaty and parched dry by the sun, and I thought there'd be little harm in a brief sojourn nearer to an island, so I accepted, thinking that to be surrounded by the hustle and bustle of a port would be lovely.

When I arrived in the port, hustle and bustle there was! Boats of every type and description scurrying to and fro, unloading and loading and music everywhere.

I saw, to be sure, the usual blights that you see in any community. This island has been very poor, and its people have sacrificed much to build what is there. I believe they also pay tribute to a mainland colonial power.

But what friendly people! Every boatman that passed, every dock-hand above my makeshift craft, waved hello to me. The people seemed as kind and as warm as any I have met in some time and genuinely and specifically glad to see me!

I began to picture that I was being invited to stay on the island, but though every indication was so (including being given a map, an understanding of residency requirements and an introduction to a merchant who was hiring labourers) no clear offer was made.

Maybe I was supposed to ask myself if residency was possible, but I forebore for two reasons:
1) My doctors would be most displeased (in fact, I believe they have dispatched a small barq of marine troops to ensure I do not land on any island)
2) As we toured the harbour, they were more than open to show me where mainlanders live, and to show me that there is no vacancy there, that housing is in very short supply.

As I write this down, though my pencil is getting short and I am running out of paper, I see the value of this journal as perhaps, after writing it, and imprisoning this experience on the page, I will be able to sleep again...

... for since that harbour tour I can scarce close my eyes before the sights and sounds of that harbour re-appear in as vivid detail as when first I saw and heard them.