"How Can We
Help You?"
The World To You...Right In Honolulu! Part 1
-- In The South Pacific --
"James Island"
A Long Time Ago,
On An Island Far, Far Away,
The Solomon Islanders,
In The Remote Solomon Islands Sea,
Named An Island For James.
...Here's What Happened.
"James Island" is a very small, formerly nameless island. It is a few hundred yards from Kennedy Island of PT 109 fame in the endless Solomon Islands Sea. It began in 1979, when I asked a simple question of a friend, Nikolo Kuriti. I had met Nikolo in Honiara, the capitol city of the Solomon Islands. By arrangement, I sailed from Guadalcanal to the very distant port city of Gizo and re-connected with Nikolo who had gone ahead. We were now en route on a commercial vessel to Nikolo's home island to spend the Christmas season. Nikolo's father was the "big man" or chief of their large, lush volcanic island.
Nikolo caught my attention and pointed from the ship's bow: "Over there," he said, "is an island special to you Americans…your President Kennedy's island." The watery battle site, where PT-109 went down and John F. Kennedy emerged a hero in World War II, was almost under our feet. Caught by surprise, I contemplated what I knew of this famous history. I was intrigued, and I asked Nikolo the name of the lone coral island "right next to Kennedy's."
Nikolo smiled. "That island, as you call it, is much too small to have a name. It doesn't even have fruit...we don't name islands that don't have any use!" A crewmember, overhearing the conversation, laughed and shouted "It's James Island!" Soon, everyone on the ship was laughing and slapping me on the back in good-natured fun about "my" island. Just as soon, everyone forgot about it, including me, and went about their business. Then...
A couple weeks later at Nikolo's island [Rarumana], Nikolo and I harvested wild sprouting coconuts to sell at the port city (Gizo) as seeds. We carefully piled the delicate, tentacled coconuts into a small, open motorboat. Friends eagerly climbed on board to tag along and drink beer at the port. With Nikolo in command, we set course across the great sea to our destination over the horizon.
On the way, a tropical storm erupted. Land was not visible in any direction. The sky blackened with uncharacteristic quickness, and Nikolo put the boat at full power. High winds tossed us like toys, while the rain and waves filled our little boat like a bottle. Trying to steer in any particular direction became useless. We cut the power and became flotsam. Even with lightning bolts lighting up the sky at will, we voyagers could hardly see each other. Thunder pounded our eardrums. We could hear, but not each other, only wind, rain, and the unrelenting thunderclaps. In darkness, chaos, and cold, high velocity rain sheets pelted the sinking vessel and saturated we, the luckless. Nikolo and I feared the worst, when suddenly everything stopped. We were saved. For a brief moment, peace and chaos co-existed. Somehow, in the middle of the deep vast sea, we had run aground...on 'James' tiny island!
In the frenzy of safe ground, Nikolo directed us to scramble for shelter in the pouring rain. Remembering the coconut seeds, I ran back instead to the haggard boat and grabbed three. An unbelieving Nikolo and the others watched as the unpredictable American (me) came back and again did not take shelter. In turn, I sprinted with the nuts to the island's three corners. In the downpour, I planted one sprouting coconut at each point for each Kennedy brother who had died, shouting above the din: "This one's for Bobby…This one's for Joe...This one's for John!" I could not hear him, but I could see Nikolo looking on with great laughter and great approval. The seeds took solid root, and to this day Nikolo tells the story of how 'James Island' got its name -- and how the tiny island next to Kennedy's got a triangular stand of coconut trees.
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This Adventure helped shape my understanding in my five years away from the U.S. If I could change one thing based on my world experiences, I would increase the time and resources available to the mutual understanding between people.
From Fiji to Europe, Marine Corps to Peace Corps, chemistry to anthropology, and teaching to negotiating -- I try to bring to real estate in Hawaii a different kind of expertise grounded in an uncommon combination of knowledge.
Go To Part 2: "A Parliamentary
Resolution"
Go To Part 3: "That's What The Indians..."
Go To HREO's Registration Page
Back To About James
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James Patton Toll Free (800) 997-8701 Ilikai
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