Booted by the King

There is actually a king here in Wallis, although it's an elected position (by the council of chiefs) for a set term of years.  His "palace" is on the waterfront in the main town, facing the anchorage where we have been happily anchored off and on for the past two weeks.  Today, I got a message from the Gendarmerie that we had to move.  No reason, just move down to Gahi Bay, a few miles away.  It turns out that the king didn't want to see yachts in front of his palace any more, so we (and two others) got the boot.

Aground at Wallis

I took this photo a few days ago, looking straight down over the side.  How deep do you think the water is?  Just about five feet.  Our keel is five feet, ten inches deep.  Notice the black mark on the sand.  That's paint from our keel.

We had anchored the day before in an unusual position.  A broad, shallow sand bank blocked us from anchoring near a particular motu (a small peripheral island in an atoll).  At high tide, the bank was just deep enough for us, but not at low tide.  This bank dropped abruptly into very deep water, so we nosed over the bank at high tide, dropped the hook, and let the wind set us back into deeper water.  These being the Trade Winds (i.e. pretty constant), and having checked the immediate forecast, I felt secure.  What I failed to consider is that rain squalls can stop, or even reverse the wind briefly.  Well, we had some showers during the night, and one of them reversed the wind at just the wrong moment as the tide was ebbing.  I woke up about five a.m. to find us firmly aground and healing over about five degrees.  Bother.  You can't fry eggs with the stove not level.  Oh, well, Robyn had made some banana bread the day before, and coffee doesn't require a level stove.  Not to worry, we had just enough time for a crossword puzzle each before we floated off with the rising tide.

Grilled Chicken in Wallis

We had the most remarkable grilled chicken this evening.  We bought a "Grade A" frozen chicken at the supermarket here in Wallis a couple of days ago.  Don't know the provenance.  After defrosting, it seemed a bit scrawny, but Robyn cut it up and I grilled it.  The pieces were a bit small, so I didn't leave them on the grill very long, much less than ordinarily.  Well, I have on occasion bit into a tough cut of beef, but I have never eaten a chicken that exercised my jaw muscles anything like this one.  We laughed our way through dinner, making jokes at the poor bird's expense, wondering how anyone could have caught a bird fit to compete in the Olympics.  If we buy another such chicken here, I think it'll go in the stew pot, instead of on the grill.

Medical Care in Wallis

We had the occasion to seek medical care shortly after arriving here at Wallis (a small island west of Samoa).  This being a French overseas territory, there is both a dispensary and a hospital, staffed with French doctors.  The care is both good and free, but the waiting is endless.  At the first visit, we waited all morning, then were told to come back in the afternoon -- everything here shuts down from 12:30 till 3:00.  At the second visit, we were told to come at 6:50 a.m., which we did.  There were only three people there ahead of us when we arrived, but we still wound up waiting over four hours, while most of the rest of the later arrivals were seen.    The scheduling process mystified us.  Later, we found out that it runs on pure cronyism.  The secretary's family and friends get in first; we, as white and foreign, go last.  At least we understand now.