Kosrae: Filled with Friendliness and Fun

By Roberta Sotonoff

As I sit reading inside my host’s home in Kosrae (pronounced koesh-rye), a shirtless man pops his head in the window beside me. It takes twenty years off my life.

“Anyone else home?” he asks.

I tell him that the family is at a funeral. He apologizes, smiles and then trots off. People are so warm and friendly on this small Micronesian island that sticking your head through an open window to say hello is not unusual. It may be smaller than the city of Boston –but the islanders have hearts as big as Texas. It is like being around 8,000 Jewish mothers worrying that you haven’t had enough to eat. Even if you are just walking down the road, someone will likely offer some fruit.

This lush atoll, located about 3,000 miles southwest of Hawaii, not only fills your stomach, but also your head with memories. Think interesting history, unique landscapes, dazzling sunsets and quiet walks on solitary beaches where glassy water slithers to the shore.

A mountainous silhouette that resembles a lounging lady with a well endowed chest, has tagged Kosrae the “Island of the Sleeping Lady.” Large leafy trees border the beaches. But come high tide, these mangroves stand about thirty feet in the ocean.

Consider the isle’s interesting past. Lela Ruins revealed a civilization from 1200 AD. Some of the ruins are 1,000 years older.

“The history of Kosrae is here.” says Grant Ismael of the Kosrae Visitors Bureau.

Lela was once an island where supplies were brought in by canals. Basalt walls line its coral walkways. Five royal tombs and a feast house are among its treasures. People prayed to Sinlaku, the goddess of breadfruit and typhoons. When they drank enough kava, they would dance.

The people still dance. But when Sinlaku was replaced by Christianity in the 19th century, missionaries—mostly Congregationalists –thought the hip movements indecent. Now native performances are mostly hand gestures.

Sometimes the ladies dance at the Kosrae Village Ecolodge. They demonstrate their weaving skills by creating baskets and sleeping mats. Of course, we are given food– a hot soup with tuna and coconut cream and warm fafa. Once food only fit for the king, fafa balls are now served to everyone at special occasions. For Kosraens, our visit is a festive event. The ground poi, topped with sweet coconut sauce tastes a little like a sweet Korean rice cake without the bean paste. It is an acquired taste.

The food at Bully’s Restaurant at the Treehouse Pacific Lodge down the road from my accommodations, the Kosrae Nautilus Hotel, is more to my liking. The long boardwalk leading to the Bully’s is bordered by a forest of mangroves. At low tide, tree roots erupt from the earth like pointed spindles. High tide turns the area into a swamp. The restaurant itself, an open, thatched-roofed structure sits alongside a lagoon surrounded by mountains. In the evening the sky is overcrowded with stars. There are never a lot of people there to enjoy the yummy, $10 lobster dinner but it’s not dull. One night I danced with the cook.

The next day we take a tranquil kayaking trip from Bully’s to hidden inlets. Mangroves reflect on the glassy water. As I disembark, the floating pier drifts leaving my feet in the kayak, my upper body on the pier and my butt in limbo. With the help of strong arms, I make it safely to terra firma.

Bully’s is named for the notorious, 19th century, American pirate, Bully Hayes, His wrecked ship sits on the bottom of the main harbor. Exploring it in search of his treasure or the undersea life and rich corals of Kosrae’s 49 other dive and/or snorkeling sites thrill water babies.

Part of the 20th century was filled with Japanese occupation. The U.S. blocked their supply ships and starved them. Ruins of a lookout point, the Japanese Steppes, and a military radio station are still evident. A U. S. frogman snuck ashore and blew up the radio station. The incident was depicted in the 1959 James Garner film, “Up Periscope.”

I feel like a frogman on the 20-minute hike to Syphen Falls. More water comes from the sky then from the cataract that plunges 35 feet into a forest pool.

Canoeing keeps me much dryer. Silence fills the air on the short paddle to Sellap Island. Huge mangrove crabs hide among the tree roots. Nepu palms arch over the water and reflect upon it.

Until 18 years ago when a typhoon swept everything away, Sellap Island was home to several natives. They lived off the land with few conveniences and no electricity. Tatao, our guide, shows us the medicinal plants the people used. White berry juice from one of them is supposed to improve your vision. My friend tried some and said it really worked.

During low tide, you can canoe to the primitive village of Walung. We take a very bumpy road instead. This village has no stores, no electricity, no way to text, no computers or cell phones, just beautiful beach, mangrove forests, huts, a church, lots of dogs with cute puppies and the trademark of Kosrae, friendly people.

I leave the island overflowing with unforgettable memories of welcoming people, unique experiences and a full belly.