Reaching out across the waves and all the sharks beneath, right across the lands to all the people accross the world. I arrived like a fresh green coconut on Vorovoro Island but now I’ve turned old, brown and hairy… it is time for me to leave the tree, float away to somewhere new and let a new coconut grow, in fact, it will be a bunch of coconuts called the Cahills. So… this is the President of the Hammock Society conducting an unorthodox interview with himself in true island fever style. Let’s start at the beginning… when did you arrive?
Back in January 2008 just as the book (accompanying the TV show Paradise or Bust) was released, perhaps the sequel should be titled ‘The Rise of the Hammock Society’? I’ve kept a diary of my time here, well… since I was 14 actually.
Excellent idea, any publishers out there get in touch…
I had been traveling for 15 months through India, Nepal, Thailand, Laos, Australia and New Zealand… I was ready to return home but then Vorovoro happened. For me, all my childhood dreams manifested before me – a place of waterfall showers, tree houses, phosphorescence, coral reefs… the warmness of the Fijians radiated and my whole being felt alive, I would get natural rushes and tingles up and down my body just being here.
Maybe they were ‘after effects’ from your raving days?
Haha, maybe… or perhaps it was my soul coming to life? Anyway, events and opportunities began to unfold before me on the island… from a tribe member… to chief… to part of the island team… to project director.
Fast-tracking straight to the top, how did you feel when Ben (Founder of Tribewanted) offered you the top job?
I thought he was having a laugh. How could he be serious? For the last four months I had been running a campaign to increase chilled vibes via the Hammock Society and been found guilty of ‘frog bombing’ tribe members for exercising too much and then running a racketeering operation accepting chocolate to keep people ‘safe’.
The Krays of London, the Kerridge of Vorovoro… what is frog bombing?
We have these gnarly frogs or toads hopping about the island and so using a sulu, I would catch one and place it in a carefully selected bed, tuck the mosquito net in so it couldn’t escape and wait for the drama.
Aren’t you a little too old to behave in such a way?
Maybe, but if you lose that child-like quality within you then that is a very sad, boring existence. I would rather die. Take Pupu (Village Elder) for example, around the grog mat his face lights up like a little mischievous rascal as he flicks insects at girls. If Pupu is a role model then part of that role would be to never fully grow up.
Do you have any regrets about accepting the top role?
No, it was a really exciting proposition… the Hammock Society in charge of Vorovoro, my plan for world domination was going in the right direction. On a more serious note, I wish… I wasn’t so naive in the beginning, thinking that because I was mates with everyone that there would be no problems. Pretty stupid eh?...
Go on…
I often felt out of my depth, like treading water in shark-infested seas.
Don’t you do that for real… leading the weekly reef trip?
Oh yeah, good point. Anyway, it’s hard to manage your friends – especially people much older and wiser than yourself. We may all speak English but that doesn’t mean we understand one another and because my Fijian language is basic, I’ve had to really focus on body language, facial expression and vibes to assess the situation. One of the greatest challenges has been accepting the major differences between our cultures and trying to find a meeting place.
Any examples you would like to share?
This one time, I was working on the accounts and Api (boat captain) was looking over my shoulder at the computer screen. He looked utterly perplexed. I sat him down next to me and asked what he saw. He just shook his head. I pulled him out of his trance and we looked out to the sea, after a few moments passed I said, ‘Api, when I look at the sea and try to read the waves I feel the same way you do about my accounts… confusion. If I have to drive the boat we are in trouble! If you take over the accounts we are in trouble! But if all work together and do our jobs, everything will be fine.’
Have you tried driving the boat?
Yeah, I’ve tried when the sea was flat, it’s a different story when you got big swells and storms to deal with. We are lucky to have two skillful boat captains, Api and Jone, who can read the waves like we read Harry Potter.
Do you get time to do much reading?
Nope. I want to engage with tribe members as much as possible, share stories around the campfire, hang out with Team Fiji… it doesn’t leave much time for anything else. When you live and work on a small island it’s hard to escape, to find your own space and that peace of mind.
How do you find peace of mind?
Earlier on in the year I attended a really dull tax seminar, and the only good thing to come out of this comatosing dribble was a couple I met (Jo and Julie) who run an eco farm on the other side of Labasa: www.palmleafarms.com. and this is where I go to chillax to the max. I would strongly recommend it to any one with a few days spare who fancies a treat after the rawness of island living.
What if you can’t leave the island and you’re feeling overwhelmed?
Normally, I just lose myself in some artwork. For me, creativity is a spiritual practice because you are just focused on the present moment… you’re not worrying about the past or what’s going to happen in the future. Sometimes, when feeling particularly wound-up, I would put a snorkel ‘n’ mask on and go scream at the fish… perhaps pop up to the white water tank and scream in there instead, especially when it’s empty. It creates a really good echo but someone turning on the kitchen tap might hear a load of profanities come streaming out!
Those poor fish! Let’s hear your five reasons to scream at fish…
Tribe members often say I have the best job in the world but some days are incredibly frustrating. There’s a big difference from a tribe member’s experience to your working experience.
1. Having a bucket of water thrown over you whilst holding the blackberry (essential communication device) by one of the kitchen girls. Blackberrys cost $2,200 in Fiji… we don’t have that kind of spare cash floating around.
2. On a separate occasion, the blackberry breaks down and the dimwits in Labasa send it off to Suva to get it fixed and then return it in the same broken state after charging repair costs.
3. For several months, I received a monthly invoice from Vodafone declaring that no payment was necessary. Then all of a sudden they slap me with a $2,000+ bill demanding payment or getting cut off!
4. After spending three months trying to open a Fijian bank account with ANZ they send me the account info pack without a debit card! When I asked about the card they said that one was not requested! I asked if I could insert the cheque book into the cash machine! How can I withdraw money at weekends when the bank is closed? I need a debit card. They told me to fill out some more forms and apply for a card. I am still waiting for that card (five months later). Muppets.
5. It has been very challenging managing the project with cutbacks as the tourism industry struggles in Fiji. I find it very hard to separate my emotions from the business decisions, I know the families of all Team Fiji and how financially dependent many have become on this project. Balancing the Mataqali (landowners) and Mali’s community needs, trying to keep everyone happy is a very difficult thing to accomplish.
I bet the bad times are out-weighed by the good times…
For sure…
1. The creation of the almighty Hammock Society… loud shout going out to Andy and Chris, original Godfathers… and all the members and enemies alike… thank you for helping me find my life’s purpose.
2.Throughout my travels I kept on having a reoccurring dream where I would be back in London, choking on the fumes, caught up in the rat race. I would wake up with tears on my cheeks. To be offered the opportunity to work on the island at the very last stage of my travels was a life changing moment. It was such a buzz, like scoring the winning goal in extra time. My reoccurring dream disappeared. My happiness increased, I felt truly blessed. One of the best feelings ever.
3. The weekly sevusevu ceremonies have produced some golden moments from breakdancing to cheerleading… from magic shows to a contemporary play. There’s even been a hula-hoop contest. But two events stand out above all others:
Firstly, we were presenting the meke to our chief Tui Mali. Team Fiji (local emplyees) were belting out the lyrics, Te was mashing together a drum beat using two sticks on a piece of carved wood… the tribe were busting out the actions… pretty normal up to this point… and then all of a sudden a deep reverberating bass filled the Grand Bure. Tui Mali’s eyes opened! He looked around searching for the sound… the rolling bassline pleasing my Junglist ways. Tui spotted the cheeks of a tribe member called Andy inflating and deflating as he blew in to his didgeridoo. When the drum beat would pause, Andy would do some bass scratching effect and the place would go nuts. The atmosphere was untouchable, one of the best interactive musical experiences ever.
Secondly, there was an Irish chap called Pupu Peter who presented Tui Mali with a giant potato cannon. Imagine the scene: we were outdoors, Tui was sitting there at the top of the mat holding a giant home-made bazooka with a huge smile underneath his moustache. He rammed in some breadfruit, sprayed in some deodorant, took aim out to sea…. and… . BOOM! The noise made everyone jump before an eruption of laughter and back slapping filled the air. We reached terrorist status that day.
4. Having access to the beach and the reef has been brilliant. To be able to snorkel and swim with such a diversity of colourful creatures has been breath-taking… a hammerhead shark swam underneath me once, I’ve seen pods of dolphins, whales breaching, turtles hatching, octopus dancing, stingrays surfing… and to swim in phosphorescence is a dream come true.
5. Visiting my good friend Crime Stopper and his family to find that he had built me my own little house right next to his one. It was made from bamboo and coconut leaves. He told me it was hurricane proof because no nails were used in the construction and it moves with the wind.
6. Spending a night over at Tui Mali’s pad trying to conduct the Christmas Hammock Society interview while he kept on giving me huge bilos of grog getting me smashed. In the morning we drank tea in his garden and watched the mist disappear from the hills as we toasted bread on the fire. He’s great company.
7. Everyone has a favorite Pupu memory… this one time, we left the village… he was armed with a chainsaw and I was holding a machete… feeling well ‘ard we wandered up the hill in search of two trees to make the shelter for my Vorovoro map. He chopped down one tree, no problems and chopped a second but it got stuck at a 45º angle. What to do? He burst out laughing told me nothing was hard in this world and preceded to climb the tree. Here’s a 69-yr-old man, standing five metres up a tree, laughing his head off… he starts jumping up and down on the trunk! The forest comes crashing down around him as he surfs the tree to a horizontal position. We sat there for ages in hysterics chatting away. There’s something very, very special about this man.
8. It’s been awesome sharing this island with so many cool people of all different ages. One of my younger friends was little Oliver (age 5), he spent ten weeks on the island and for nine of those he was slyly monitoring my sulu collection. He observed I had six altogether and needed to wear one when Tui Mali was around. On the final week he launched his assault… there were eye witness reports of him waiting for me to leave for town and then raiding my bure, collecting his stash and legging it back through the village laughing wildly to hide them. He had an ulterior motive too – he was hoping Tui Mali would punish me for not having a sulu. A very smart kid indeed, he reminded me of the little boy from the comic strip Calvin and Hobbes.
What will you take away from your Vorovoro experience?
Besides an overdose of porridge and cake, I will take away a million stories about a place… that on most days… is the happiest place on earth with some of the most amazing people you will ever meet.
You’ve dodged your ‘Isa Lei’ (leaving song) many times but now it’s around the corner… what will you do when you finally leave Vorovoro?
I’m prepared to enter deep levels of depression and loss. The cure for this will be Nintendo. I will search for other eco-communities living in harmony with nature and meet many more interesting people. Maybe sit under a mango tree and meditate upon the meaning of life, start a new movement. I think my next big creative project will be to build a home… I’m thinking teepee, yurt or tree house… maybe convert a bus… something cool. I want something with essence, with part of me, it sounds pretty hippy dippy but the rat race can do one… it doesn’t fit in with Hammock Society philosophy.
What will happen to the Hammock Society after you leave?
This is not a fad or a phase, it’s a way of life. I plan to create a global day of rest in the name of the almighty Hammock Society… and as for the island, as long as there are hammocks there will be a Hammock Society.
What will happen to the island after you leave?
It’s a new season and new plants will grow. The project has been extended for another few years much to happiness of the Mali Community and all the tribe members. The Cahill family will return and lead the project adding a new dimension… they form a little mini tribe of their own: Jimmy, Jenny and their three children Lucas (11), Bethany (8) and young Oliver (5). If their parenting skills are anything to go by, they will make an incredible island team. They will bring a massive injection of new energy and ideas.
Jimmy will become the Project Director, Jenny will be the Tribe Manager, I believe young Lucas is putting himself forward to become the new Hammock Society President? Does he have the credentials?
Definitely. He showed great bravery and vision when he attempted to frog bomb the entire tribe on the eve of the third year celebration! Alas, his dad found out about the plot and had young Lucas remove all twenty eight frogs from twenty eight beds.
Twenty eight frogs!
Did you put him up to it?
Not directly, maybe I was his inspiration. It was Lucas’s idea, he asked me to help him but I declined the invitation and thought that was the end of it. twenty eight frogs… that’s insane. He almost caused an island riot! A couple of weeks later, Tui Mali found out about the plot and bestowed upon me a few giant bilos of grog for my influence… and then some more giant bilos on behalf of Lucas.
Tui Mali never misses a trick…
True, he knows me very well indeed, nothing gets past him. I get punished every week for one thing or another. If I’ve had no dreams, he tells me to drink more grog and gives me the big bilo. He loves a good joke and talanoa (story) and I’m sure the Cahills will provide plenty of them.
Any last words?
Someone much wiser than me once said, ‘The mind is like a parachute, it works best when open’… and I think traveling should be done with this ideal in mind because you never know who you’ll meet or where you’ll end up. Look at me, I never planned to lead a project on a remote, desert island… it’s been absolutely T for tremendous. Go Hammocks!
www.tribewanted.com
