Two extremes here today. First, the hottest, most steamy, & the most clammy day we have ever experienced. Having lived previously in Florida, Texas, & North Carolina, they pale in comparison. Second, the most educational, captivating, & inspirational!
I’ll start with a description of the area.

There’s no pier in Nosy Be – nothing large or modern enough enabling a ship of our size to dock. We knew ahead of time we would be anchoring in a bay and ‘tendering’ ashore. We arrived at the northern tip of the island around 7:30am, and still had about 10 miles to sail before reaching our anchoring target. Having had breakfast earlier, we were now sitting out on our deck watching the beautiful scenery unfold. We began to see small boats in the distance – first a few, then several. Using the binoculars, I was able to determine that these were island natives paddling toward our ship in some of the most crude & primitive boats I’ve ever seen. Some were equipped with improvised, do-it-yourself sails, clearly handmade from several sources of used materials. Many of these structures looked like they had been carved from tree trunks, and probably were. One boat had 3 occupants, what appeared to be a mother, father, & son. The parents were busy paddling, while the son was frantically (and I think desperately) bailing water from the boat in a plastic bucket. By the time we reached our destination and the anchor started descending, we were surrounded by dozens of these primitive boats – some with one occupant, some with entire families – all were friendly – most all were begging for money or cloths – some were trying to sell bananas out of bushel baskets – one was even trying to sell HUGE, live crabs. I’m not sure what some of them were thinking…how can you possibly complete a product sale from a tiny boat to a passenger leaning over a rail from several stories above?? Even if you could, what would you do with a ‘live’ crab on board?? Many natives were pleading…”cloths for my baby…shoes please…t-shirts please…dollar, dollar, dollar”. There are signs posted throughout the ship and in all outside cabins…”Never Throw Anything Overboard”. In a true and very touching charitable spirit of giving and helping those less fortunate, the ship’s crew overlooked the rulebook (to their credit) as hundreds of items were dropped from literally every deck and from both sides. As you would expect, most of the offerings were off target & hit the ocean, but the natives didn’t mind – they were diving from their boats to retrieve the donations and as they surfaced with their rewards, all had wide smiles of joy! Some passengers actually packed multiple items and bundled them in large plastic bags – they hit the water with quite an impact!
Our ship was surrounded by dozens of these canoes with natives begging, or trying to sell trinkets & fruit









Looking back from the island....our ship
The beach to the village entrance was perhaps a walk of 100 feet – that was the point where we entered the ‘living’ world of National Geographic. I stood there momentarily, looking down the first narrow street of the village, riveted… almost in a hypnotic state…and said softly to Cheryl……WOW. I say narrow street – I mean a dirt & sand path about 15 feet wide, riddled with potholes, mud, & protruding tree roots. On either side of the path were native dwellings – some made of grass with thatch roofs, some made of cinder, some made of coarsely fused trees – no window coverings, certainly no doors, and all floors simply dirt. There was no electricity anywhere. The natives were all going about their daily routines. Some were washing clothes, which consisted of laying garments on rocks & scrubbing them by hand. Some were bathing their young children in a ‘bathtub’ that was nothing more than a large cooking pot. Some were busy working on wood carvings. Some were simply lying on modest blankets under the shade of their huts to break from the hot sun. All were barefoot. The dirt streets were scorching – I could feel the extreme heat through my flip-flops and occasionally, I’d kick up some sand and it felt like blistering ashes on my feet. I guess if you’re raised in that type of environment you gradually adjust. There weren’t many smiles initially – they looked at us with as much curiosity as we looked at them. The difference…WE were entering their world. It was awkward – it was almost surreal. What do we do – what do we say?
Each night, the cabin stewards on the ship leave two beautifully wrapped chocolates on your pillow. Since the beginning of the voyage, we’ve been collecting them in a bowl. Well…MOST of them! I’ve had a few weak moments! Before our tour, I loaded the chocolate stockpile into several large plastic baggies. In total, we had nearly 200.

It was so gratifying.













Giving Away Our Chocolate!





We continued on deeper into the jungle. We suddenly came upon two Lemurs – these are friendly little creatures from the monkey family that live in abundance here. They’re about the size of a very large cat. One such Lemur lowered himself from a tree branch and perched on my shoulder. He waited for me to peel back a banana and once exposed, he ate it right out my hand. A little farther down the path, our guide found a Boa roughly 6 feet in length. He picked it up and Cheryl wrapped herself up with it – she said our son Bryan would be very proud! Not for me – no thanks! We also saw several varieties of Chameleons & colorful frogs – quite large, and just running along the pathways as we stirred the underbrush.
We took a different route out of the jungle and went through another small village.
Once back at the main beachhead, a table of fresh fruit had been set up by the natives along with drinks. In addition to many passengers, the fruit dishes were also attractive to large jungle flies – we opted for the bottled beer and left it at that. Within 30 minutes, we were back on our motorized dinghy for the trip back to the dock, and as luck would have it, a ‘lifeboat’ was in the process of boarding for a return trip to the ship, so we immediately jumped on, knowing that air conditioning was now only a few minutes away.
After a shower, we grabbed a quick hot dog in the Lido, just enough to hold us until dinner. We went to our routine 4:30 gathering place (the Ocean’s Bar) for Happy Hour and as we always do, exchange stories about our various activities for the day. Today was different for me. As we began our sail away at 5:00 and the amazing villages slowly drifted out of sight, I sat quietly and reflected on a very humbling, touching day. There I was, sitting in a soft chair amidst the air conditioned comfort of a cruise ship, iced & sanitary beverage in hand, no hunger pains (slightly overweight actually) and in reasonably good health. How fortunate I am – how fortunate we ALL are. We are so blessed. To live in a village with no electricity and such primitive means & resources, particularly in this day & age, is just mind-boggling for me - & to experience their simple, unsophisticated & very challenging lifestyle firsthand sure makes me appreciate many of the small things we take for granted everyday….wearing shoes, turning on a light, using a toilet, sleeping in a bed, eating a piece of chocolate. Just as amazing – the people we met today seemed content & happy – smiles were abundant – they recognize NO other standard of living, so why shouldn’t they? May God bless them all – such beautiful people.
On our way now to Mozambique. I suspect this will be another amazing experience. We’re told the average annual income is US $800, and that the country is still rebuilding after 20 years of civil war, floods, & famine.
I wish I had more chocolate to give away.