After Charlie showed us where to anchor, he offered to give us a guided tour of his island. A well worn path snaked through jungle growth to look at the ancient historical sites. Each village has their own section of pig-counting rocks, which are set in lines on the ground around a horizontal stone slab. The rocks tally how many pigs are killed. There are also massive monoliths brought to the island by “the ancients” with no explanation how they got there.
Later in the day we made our way ashore, in the dark, to have dinner with George and his family. We haven’t been in a village at night, when everything is dark and no lights anywhere. Fortunately we wore our headlamps. The huts or houses are crowded close together, each family having two or three buildings – one for sleeping, one for eating and one for cooking and socializing. Sometimes this building is more like an open patio. So we followed George to his outdoor hut to sit for a few minutes while his daughter finished getting the meal ready. Then we went into the eating hut where we all sat on the floor on a mat (except Jim who felt more comfortable on a sack of cement bags). The dish was beautifully presented by George’s daughter.