Spending my 22nd Birthday in a Remote Village

On September 6th I turned 22. 

Over the years, my birthday has become an even more irregular event than it already was. For the last three birthdays I’ve had, I’ve been in different countries around the world. Last year, Spain, this year, Vanuatu. 

If I’m being honest, I was expecting the crew to do something simply because I figured it would be a good episode bit, but I never expected an entire village to be in on it. 

The day started around 7 a.m. for me. After waking up at 6 for the past 3 weeks, the only gift I wanted was that of an extra hour's sleep.

I woke up to a paragraph-long, obligatory birthday text from my mom starting with “wakey, wakey!! Call me when you get up!” In North Carolina, since it’s a day behind the South Pacific, it wasn’t even my birthday yet. 

I give her a call after I quickly throw in my contact lens. The call is filled with love-dovey “I remember whens” and many “I miss you” Sometimes I wonder if my mom ever thought she would give birth to a daughter that was always away. 

After about thirty minutes of catching up, I decided that there was definitely something going on outside my bedroom and I have a sneaky suspicion it’s something for me. 

Amie doesn’t know this yet, but I heard her “silently” crawl out of her hatch this morning at an ungodly time. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about living on a boat, it’s that secrets do not exist. Everyone can hear everything. 

I quickly throw on a bikini top and some skimpy shorts-the typical uniform for the boat these days with the 90-degree heat and humidity that feels to be at 101%- I would be lying if I said I didn’t wish I could run around naked every day. 

I sneak out of my bedroom door like I was doing the surprising, and I see sweet ole’ Tammy sitting comfortably on the stairs. Almost like she was expecting me to leave my bedroom. One thing I find extraordinary about Tammy is her nimbleness. I’ve seen her contort her body to fit in hatches, on very small beams, and I’ve seen her sleep in the most uncomfortable places. Yet, somehow she makes it work. 

When I see Tammy, I instantly start to laugh, my signature trait. Tammy responds with her contagious smile and tells me to change into “nice” clothing. I only brought two “fancy’ items to this trip. I put on a long, body-con dress and quickly bush my eyebrows-the only form of “makeup” I’ve worn in two months. 

Once Tammy lets me out of my chamber, I walk up the stairs to see Mara, Amie, and Doc merrily singing “Happy Birthday”. They sing it with enthusiasm like they are genuinely happy to be singing this over-used song. 

With the largest grin on my face, a high-pitched “Oh my goodness” escapes my lips when I see the table covered in seashells, Hibiscus flowers, and a mermaid-themed cake. 

My heart exploded at the thought behind this little surprise. I’m overwhelmed with gratitude that these strangers, who have only known me a month at this point, love me enough to do something like this. 

We sit around drinking coffee from the resort we are currently anchored at, a new-found tradition that I didn’t know I would adore so much. We spoke of past birthdays and our zodiac signs-normal birthday chatter. 

After we ate our cake for breakfast, it was time for the day’s adventures. 

The first task of the day was prawn fishing with some local villagers. A bit of a backstory:

We are currently in Luganville, Vanuatu. The last “city” we are visiting before we head to the Solomon Islands. Our normal hangout spots are anchorages in remote reef islands, but when we have to check in or out of a country, we typically find areas where we can re-provision. 

When we first arrived in Luganville, we were instantly greeted by Chief Sak Sak and his right-hand man, Reynold. A very important fact about Sak Sak; he is a local comedian and everyone, I mean EVERYONE, knows this man. You would think we were walking with a celebrity down the Luganville “City Center”. These two decade-long besties decided to take us in as their own and coined me, Amie, and Tammy as their “three little birds”. 

So, here we are, around 10 a.m., in a river filled with prawns. To be honest, the conditions were less than ideal in my opinion. Have you ever been in quicksand? I haven’t either, but I now feel qualified to compare it to the muddy bottom of this river. When I jumped off the dinghy into the bathtub temperature, murky water, my entire foot was engulfed. 

I’ll have to admit, at some point between internally complaining about the humidity and being worried about getting bit by a Malaria mosquito, I finally let go. 

I instantly started laughing. I think I may have even peed myself a bit. The prawns we were catching were less than an inch in size, you could hardly see them with all the other debris from the river. But we were having so much fun. It was the type of fun where everyone is aware that it’s kinda a shit show, but you just accept that and go with it. I think that’s my favorite type of fun. 

After our expedition, Reynold insisted that we follow him to his garden and plant Banana trees in his village so they could always remember us. It was an incredibly sweet gesture, so of course, we complied. In the midst of planting the trees, we ate coconuts, were gifted the most gorgeous yellow hibiscus flowers I’ve ever seen, and even copped some Kava root. 

What’s funny about all of this is that the two banana trees that we “planted” were already growing well and in a different area of Reynold’s garden. I legitimately watched him dig up the thriving plants just so we could plant them in a different area….whatever makes Reynold happy makes me happy. 

We went about the rest of our day as normal. Well as “normal” as my life is at the moment. We headed back to the boat to pick up our shower stuff and then headed to the resort to eat lunch (not prepared by us) and to shower in an actual shower. You see, here on the boat, we have a very limited water supply. We make all of our freshwater from salt water, but to do so takes an extreme amount of energy. Not to mention, our showers are very small and kinda make the entire bathroom all moldy. So, whenever we get the chance, we shower on land. Do you know the coffee reference I made earlier? There are certain “luxuries” that you come to appreciate that much more whenever they aren’t readily available. Getting a coffee out, getting ice cream while provisioning, eating at a restaurant, and taking a proper shower all fall under that category. 

We each take our showers, drink a specialty “mermaid” cocktail, and prepare for an evening in the village with Sak Sak and Reynold. 

A back story to the back story: another reason why we visited Luganville was because we were sent here on a mission to assist some of the villagers medically and to educate them on climate change.

Amie, our brilliant marine biologist, diligently prepared a scavenger hunt teaching kids about the harmful effects of burning plastic, pollution, and over-fishing. Tammy, a yoga instructor by trade, put together a routine of stretches for the adults who struggle with back pain, and Doc gathered all these medical supplies to provide some basic care for those in need. I was there to document it all and to possibly host a killer game of duck, duck goose if the time called for such an event. 

I was utterly shocked at the attendance at our little event. Dozens of kids and adults scattered around every inch of a small shed overpacked with a pool table, coined as their “community center”. We began with phase one of our evening: doctor stuff and Amie’s pollution game. 

I was a bit nervous about the game if I’m being quite honest. Many of these kids didn’t speak much English and they were all incredibly shy, understandably. However, they blew all my expectations out of the water. In no time, the kids warmed up to us and actually participated in the scavenger hunt. The villages in Vanuatu were the most polluted I’ve seen throughout our voyage. Plastic bottles under each footstep paired with miscued bits of clothing and other odd wrappers, these children definitely know what trash is, and the majority are aware that it’s not a good thing. Amie asked the kids to go about their village and find different types of trash. From articles of clothing to aluminum cans, the gaggle of children ran back to our meeting spot eager to show us what they found. After sorting through the trash and giving our new group of friends a little talk about pollution prevention, it was time for Tammy’s yoga session. 

Again, I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw all the participants. All of the children plus about 7 adults joined in the little routine. It was joyous sightseeing the kids tried to touch their toes and all laughed at each other when someone fell. Even the young toddlers were running around trying to mimic their new teacher. 

Then, to my luck, it was my time to shine. A legendary game of duck, duck, goose unfolded right before my eyes. I was the first goose of course and I tried to pick a girl that wouldn’t be able to catch me. Boy, was I wrong? This chick was fast. Now, I’m not a marathon runner, nor do I really care to be, but I was giving it my all and she still caught me. But luck was on my side when she asked if she could still be the goose even though I lost. 

During our infinite rounds of duck, duck, goose, I saw Amie walk back into the village all alone. This raised multiple red flags for me mostly because we are in an unknown country, we don’t speak the language, and we are female, but I noticed that Mara saw her too, so I let it go. 

A few minutes later, between a group of girls playing with my hair and a little boy telling me he liked my chin (lol), Sak Sak made all of the kids sit in their original seats. They all became increasingly quiet as Sak Sak made a speech in Bislama. Their excited eyes all locked on mine and then within a second I heard “Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you” 

I take a step and turn to my right and see Amie carrying a plate filled with goodies. My face swells up with a huge smile. Once Happy Birthday is over, Sak Sak instructs the children to clap 22 times. For whatever reason, the clapping made me burst into tears. Maybe because it felt more personal than the classic “Happy Birthday” song. Like I was the only person on earth to ever turn 22. 

I gave Sak Sak a meaningful side hug and told him “Thank you for absolutely everything” and then I felt a massive stream of water slide down my back. Typically, I would be a bit aggravated by this gesture on a shower day, but in a moment like this, how could I be? I turned to see Amie belly laughing explaining that it’s a Vanuatu tradition to “bathe” someone in water on their birthday. 

Reynold and his mother had made me cassava cake with coconut milk. It was the kindest gesture in the entire world and I graciously handed out a piece of the pie to each villager. 

The night ended on a high by toasting a cup of Kava with Sak Sak while he gave a heartwarming speech about our time together. 

I never thought in one billion years that I would ever have a birthday in a remote village, playing with children and drinking Kava with a chef. Even writing about it now, it sounds like a fairytale. As I've grown older, big parties and extravagant gifts have started to mean less and less, as they tend to do. 

I've learned that my joy doesn't depend on what I have in my life but on who I get to share it with. Celebrating my birthday with a group of strangers gave us all a reason to celebrate. It was an excuse to get a bit more dressed up, eat cake for breakfast, and, for the little kids, to stay up past their bedtimes. It gave us a reason to come together and create a home away from home. It gave us even more of a reason to be grateful. 

I have no idea what September 6, 2024, will hold, but all I hope is that I get to share it with others.