Islands of Trespass

23^rd of October 1821

Though it is hard to reconcile with the fact that this day marks two years past since I first arrived on the verdant island of Hawai’i, I must admit much has transpired in those two short years.

My wife, Isabel, is gone. Not dead, though somedays I wish it was so. She left me for a native man who by her words “was not so sensitive that the skin of a mango would cause abhorrent rashes” and “not so susceptible to fright that a dobsonfly misfortunately swallowed in the morning’s coffee would elicit untoward frenzy” and “most importantly willing to explore regions in a wholly, though possibly not holy, generous fashion which may bring a woman to cast off any man who does not appreciate the finer desserts God has given to humankind.”

Well, Isabel! I may not have understood why you suddenly came to care so much about my tempered sweet tooth, but I am forging a path to new regions! Today marks not only the anniversary of our arrival to these deceptive and wild lands, but also the first day of my self-funded expedition in search of undiscovered islands!

The local chieftain who’s land on which we settled for the price of our matrimonial cherrywood bed and cotton sheet set has been sharing with me the opportunity for fame and glory. He speaks of islands yet undiscovered by modern man. He believes I should leave what he calls his over-used and disappointing-in-comparison lands to make claim on the rich and untouched isles awaiting a master such as myself!

The same chieftain who you were so sure despised me. Who you claimed called me a ninny behind my back. I approached him directly about that rumor. He assured me that the word you heard was “kidney” as in the chieftain viewing me, your former husband, as competent and necessary! He did not go on as to explain so much, but I needed no further affirmation of his feelings towards me, as I have said, for he is gifting me the chance at a status in keeping with his own, I will be the master of an island of mine own!

24^th of October 1821

The ship and crew bequeathed me for this expedition are slightly under my expectations for which I had been built to believe suitable by the chieftain. I have been settled on a raft slightly larger than a woman’s wash basin. Also, the depth of a woman’s wash basin. It does quite feel like it may be a large woman’s wash basin. My craft is tied to a rope some fifty yards in length which is then tied to the back of a sail-less canoe operated by three young native boys and an aging native elder whom they call Puni.

Puni nor the boys speak much English, however we are able to communicate through hand signals and considerable amounts of pointing. The pointing is, at times, difficult to effectuate and in turn ascertain as I am so far away from Puni with this extended length of rope. I have twice attempted to pull myself closer to the canoe and twice has Puni chastised me for doing so, quickly sending me back at the full distance the rope allows. It seems clear to me that Puni is doing this out of respect for my soon-to-be high station as an island conqueror. Therefore, I shall sanction his choice of deference. I’m certain they will recall that I have not eaten since we set sail yesterday morning and soon toss me some provisions. Hopefully not mango.

25^th of October 1821

Storm clouds in the distance. Puni has suggested that I take shelter inside my craft for the duration of the storm. He has even supplied me with a lid with which had has fastened shut with rope for extra precaution…against what I’m not entirely sure. I was unable to establish its purpose but I was in successful in communicating to Puni that I was in need of food. Unfortunately, the provisions they were able to share were a single coconut and three mangos. I can feel the mango rash forming around the corners of my mouth though I’m sure in no time I will be on my island and may feast on my own newly discovered stock of tropical items once there. I can hear the boys giggle as Puni lets out the rope and sends me away from the canoe. I think they are getting as giddy as I thinking about the new lands I will discover.

29^th of October 1821

The storm was not kind to my closed craft. And I daresay, God was not kind to mine own self over the past three days. However, that would be ungrateful of me as God has blessed me with seemingly uninhabited dry lands on which I write this entry now. Rocked by the turmoil of the tempest that overtook my expedition, I believe Puni and the boys were not as lucky as I to survive the horrible night. The rope with which I was once tied to their vessel has been cut, surely by some storm-snapped wood of their canoe or possibly an errant fish with a sharp nose tossed around in the waves during the storm. Alas, I was fated, after two and half days of aimless floating inside my craft to ultimately be dashed against the coral of the island on which I now sit. Hungry and thirsty, I will go now in search of fresh water, and if my luck continues, some easily digestible…I’m not sure. I should have possibly studied the tropical flora and fauna prior to setting sail.

30^th of October 1821

Glory be to God, and the power of DESTINY. I have found a primitive village, and they will be my peoples!

3^rd of November 1821

The people of Cecilterra, as I call my lands, so named after myself, are so kind. After several days of living amongst them they took it upon themselves to build for me a shelter on what must be a sacred end of the island. There are many chickens, though small in frame, who frequent the beaches surrounding my new domain. I believe they view the chickens as sacred animals because they do not eat them and were momentarily shocked when I approached the village and offered several that I had beheaded. It seems that my high status allows for me to partake in the sacred miniature chicken as they refused the meat themselves but did not stop me from enjoying.

6^th of November 1821

I have been sick in stomach for days since my first miniature chicken feast. I do think perhaps these creatures are not so sacred and also not so edible. I tried to reach the village on the other end of the island on the second day of sickness, but was carried back to my shelter by several village men. It is likely they do not want to see their leader in such a state.

8^th of November 1821

Puni is alive! I was fortunate to spot the elder this morning when approaching the village with an injury of which I sought attention from the village medicine woman or whoever I may come across first. By accident, I had mine own foot rather deeply while attempting to fish with a sharp stick. I had seen from afar how the villages would use a gig of sorts to catch fish in the shallows and attempted to imitate their hunting customs. Unfortunately, I had pierced mine own foot and could not remove the stick on mine own. Where was I, oh yes, Puni!  He had arrived in his canoe with the boys, all alive and well and seemed to be in discussion or trade for goods with the villagers. He and the boys were quite surprised to see me, though I’m sure it was more because of the stick in my foot and there surprise at my obvious new station in life as an island conqueror.

There was some seemingly heated discussion in their native languages. Through contextual information and the useful gestures of hands, I believe Puni was admonishing them for having built me a structure not worthy of my high status.

9^th of November 1821

I awoke this morning to Puni and the boys urging me on another expedition! Puni promises an even more beautiful island with unimaginable riches. I believe this is what he meant, however he is signaling now for me to get inside the new craft, unfortunately slightly smaller and strangely filled with heavy bags of sand, for we are to set sail immediately.

I have already decided on the name of my next and greater lands…Betterthanisabel.