Kuto, One Of The Best Stops Ever!
The inhabitants of the island are mainly native Melanesian Kanaks, and the population is estimated to be around 2,000.
February 8, 2014
Kuto, New Caledonia
After our ship weighed anchor, and we were cleared for the tender boats, we immediately went to get our tender tickets. As the tender boat moved slowly over the smooth waters of the bay, we caught a glimpse of a joyous welcoming committee . Ten minutes later we arrived at the dock and there was an atmosphere of excitement. The dock and the beach were crowded with excited locals wearing brilliant clothes, and grass skirts; singing and dancing. I was so jubilant receiving my palm head lei decorated with flamboyant blossoms of frangipanis and delicate camellias. All of us, men and women got their palm head lei`s. There were mothers, fathers, brothers,sisters, aunts and uncles expressing their welcome to our party. They had long awaited our arrival and soon started the loud thumping of the drums with their huge fists.
For an instant, the scene was like in the movies; Caucasians landing on an unknown shore to be royally welcomed by a tribe of primitive men. One by one we received our head leis, we watched them with keen wonder and fascination as they started to dance and work themselves into a frenzy. Their dances never ceased. They had danced for at least an hour, and time after time their dance was repeated each time a new boat load of people came ashore. At the corner of the dock there were tiny thatched roofs decorated with palm fronds drawn together, and the dried grass was covered by woven mats. One of the leaders was a man I called the ``Papa.”
Kuto is a small unspoiled island of trees and beautiful beaches.
He was huge with extremely low forehead, bloodshot eyes and thick protruding lips. Across his forehead were parallel lines of white paint which were also on each cheek. Above the frizzy wool of his hair was a tuft of very course Coconut Coirlei. He flashed me his set of crooked yellow teeth when I asked for his photograph. Occasionally he would raise a shrill blow of the whistle and the men beside him would start banging on the reverberating surface of a tree trunk used as a drum. Once, twice,thrice, that shrill whistle rang, and then as if answering a challenge, the dancers sprang into action and the non-stop dancing renewed.
The male dancers, and the boys wore grass skirts, their faces painted with white streaks, and on their backs were tattoos and the same white paint streaks. As they danced,their brown sweat, streaked bodies, glistened in the sun. As the rapidness of the drum beats increased, the dancer’s leaps and jumps increased. A few paces from them was our Captain Mercer in an ordinary grey t-shirt and blended in like any of the other passengers.
``Captain, would you like your picture taken with the group,`` I asked him while watching the dancers with his camera slung on his shoulders.
``Sure, why not,`` he replied.
Together we walked toward the makeshift hut, and he politely asked if it was alright to walk inside and step on the mats.
``Monsieur, Le Capitaine, foto sil-vous-plait,” I asked while pointing to our Capt. Jonathan Mercer.
Papa gave me a quizzical look, as if to say, ``Are you kidding us. He is just one of the passengers.”
The look of disbelief in his face was almost comical.
``Oui, oui, Le Capitaine, de Amsterdam,” I reassured them while pointing to our cruise ship.
``Yes, yes, I am the Captain,” our Captain tried to convince them.
``Foto silvous plait,” I asked again while grinning and this time, they obliged and Captain Mercer stood between them. After I finished taking photographs of the Captain, Papa and his group; I started to walk to the beach. A few hundred feet to our left was the pearly white sand beach with extraordinary tall coconut trees and some pine trees, heavy laden with thick foliage. On the trees were abundant birds and on the beach were schools of small white fish. It was a beautiful woodsy shore. There were make-shift stalls with souvenir items. There were children running on the beach. From the distance, a circle of women stood cutting tropical fruit such as papaya, pineapple, watermelon, and mangoes. Locals were running to and from the makeshift huts, their whole aim seemed to be, to please our group.
Other women in bright colored dresses were fashioning palm hats matched with bright petals of gorgeous flowers. The woven palm hats, and fruit were free and some people dropped a few US dollars in an empty basket as a donation for their operose job. After taking photographs of all the men, women and children by the beach, I went straight into the crystal clear water. The cool water and the exhilaration of the day filled me. The dancers, and their drummers with the earthen drums, even followed us on the beach and continued their non-stop dancing. All day, the dock and the beach filled with excited cruise passengers and the locals welcoming us, pulsed with life! At lunch time, men cut fresh coconuts for drinking. Before each hut, women presided over hot steaming Bougna. The fresh Bougna was seen on every woman’s hands, as they offered their local delicacy to us to eat. Bougna`s are a staple food of life in New Caledonia. They are made of vegetables like potatoes, taros, bananas, and chicken or fish, all with coconut milk cooked in banana leaves over hot stones for two hours over the hot stones, and opened while still steaming hot.
At the end of the day, it was hard to leave a place like Kuto. As of this writing I can still envisage the splendor of the welcome accorded us by the locals. It is definitely one of the best port stops ever! Wish we could have stayed longer!
Comment
Well-written, Charlotte. What a lovely island to visit! Thank you. From Kim L., on Feb 25, 2014 at 07:12 p.m