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Northern Mariana Islands |
I
should also point out that almost nobody goes to Rota (or at least back then). Bin Laden thought about hiding there but
decided he’d be too lonely. I decided to
go because I’d travelled half way around the world to visit Micronesia and it
was only a twenty minute flight from Saipan.]
ROTA MICRONESIA - THE SECRET TRIATHLON
Rota is known as the “friendly island” – However I might have to wait a few
years till it’s safe for me to return. It all has to do with a
misunderstanding regarding my participation in a local triathlon – as absurd as
that may seem.
Deserted Saipan Airport |
I make my
way to the boarding gate where I find one other older couple in the waiting
room. They tell me they arrived two hours early to make sure they got processed
okay. The three of us
get on the commuter plane, a 46 seater. I settle into my seat across the aisle from the older couple in the front of the aircraft and a few moments later the flight attendant comes up and asks if all 3 of us would mind moving to the rear of the aircraft to compensate for the luggage. I point out there’s only three bags! Why not move the bags?
get on the commuter plane, a 46 seater. I settle into my seat across the aisle from the older couple in the front of the aircraft and a few moments later the flight attendant comes up and asks if all 3 of us would mind moving to the rear of the aircraft to compensate for the luggage. I point out there’s only three bags! Why not move the bags?
The three
of us move to the back of the plane and sit on either side of the aisle to
“equalize” the load. As soon as the
plane lurches into the air one of them asks me if I’m going to Rota for the
triathlon. I have no idea what they’re
talking about, so I just smile at them.
[N.J.
here: Currently one of the few airlines
flying between Saipan and Rota is Arctic Air Service – seems they’re a bit far
from home! In fact I think Rota is way
closer to the Antarctic then the Arctic!]
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Coral Garden Hotel in Rota |
Twenty minutes
later we’re in Rota. I’m met at the airport by a driver who looks eerily like
the guy who drove me to the airport in Saipan.
I given him the name of my motel and we head off down the road. He asks me if I’m here for the big Triathlon
that coming weekend. I just smile and
shake my head. It takes about ten
minutes to drive from the airport to my lodgings at the Coral Garden Hotel.
It’s clean, but a little more threadbare than my motel in Saipan.
But it has a million dollar view.
As I
check in the receptionist asks if I’m here for the Triathlon. This is the
third time I've been asked whether I’m here to compete in the Triathlon, I’m
actually flattered. Here I am, a slightly overweight middle aged guy –
and everyone thinks I’m some sort of international athlete!
But now
it’s getting a bit tedious. I explain I would be happy to compete, except
I have a bit of a problem with some of the events - namely the running,
swimming, and biking. If they want to build a Triathlon that includes a
three legged race, a sack race and a potato and spoon event, I’m their man.
Rota has no tourism at all – except for two events a year: a large Church function commemorating Saint San Francisco de Borgia – - somehow given the bloody history of these Islands I’m not surprised there’s a feast honouring a member of Borgia clan. The other event is a triathlon the island hosts every year where athletes come from all over the Pacific to compete. By some quirk of fate my arrival seems to have coincided with this latter event.
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Songsong, Rota Micronesia |
Dinner is at one of the three restaurants, “Ah Paris” – sounds French – but it’s definitely not. It’s run by people who have probably never eaten in a Chinese restaurant - but read about someone who did once.
THE DIVE NAZI
My first visit is to the dive shop to meet Mark who the dive operators on Saipan refer to as the “Dive Nazi”. (ala Seinfeld’s soup Nazi). They say if you do or say the slightest thing wrong he won’t take you diving.
“No
diving for you – One year! Next!”
Old Japanese sugar plantation locomotive |
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Rota Resort & Country Club |
[N.J.
here. The resort has changed hands
several times in the ten years since I was there but is still in
operation. If you’re thinking of getting
a foursome together for a weekend of golf here’s where you can book it.)
DOMO ARIGATO, MR GROBERMATO
I visit Mark, the Dive Nazi, at 8:00am as arranged. He hasn’t arrived yet. While I am waiting for him to arrive, Rai, a member of the local constabulary pedals up on a shiny eighteen speed bike and inquires what I’m doing standing outside the shop. I tell to him I’m waiting for Mark to arrive so I can go diving. Rai informs me he is gearing up for…. What else? The triathlon. During our conversation he asks if I have a bike. I inform him I have a 40 year old Raleigh three speed. I tell him I only need three speeds. I have no idea how this innocent comment is going to cause me so much trouble later.My dive partner Nanette |
Nanette told me that we would be doing a negative buoyancy entry from the boat because of the high surface current. Did I know how to do this? No, was my answer.
Well it’s quite simple, Nanette explained. You sit with your ass on the edge of the boat facing in, then you do a backward somersault into the water, and to make it more interesting, you don’t come up to the surface to get your bearings (or in my case to clear my mask) but you continue straight down to the bottom at 45 feet.
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Jeff in the Blue Grotto |
The visibility was stunning. I could see for hundreds of feet in every direction. Our destination was an underwater cave, which was a bit scary getting into, but with Nanette’s encouragement it wasn’t that bad. The top of the cave had collapsed ions ago, so once inside the cave it lit up a brilliant blue. It was magical and awe inspiring. BTW I can now manage my air so I can stay down nearly half an hour. The other Japanese diver can stay down an hour or more! I still have to work on relaxing and not thinking about things like: I’m 80’ underwater and there are large animals around here that could eat me.
That evening I go to the local bar for dinner where I’m greeted with much bowing and ceremony by the contingents from Japan and from other Pacific Islands. They are all here for the pre-triathlon dinner. They want to see my bike, and suddenly it becomes apparent to me: All these people think I’m here to participate in the triathlon. My innocent remark to the constable about my bike has been taken out of context. I need to come up with a face saving excuse – and that’s when I come up with a brilliant idea. There’s a super typhoon in the Pacific
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Super Typhoon Nanmadol |
[N.J. here: This little "fib" will come back to haunt me big time in a few days!]
OFF TO GUAM
The swimming event in the Triathlon |
Today I went down to the Dive shop to offer to help with setting up buoys etc. for
the race and that’s when I was deeply touched to find that the race committee
had met and decided to call me an honorary entrant and present me a race
t-shirt.
I took Nanette to lunch to thank her and then headed off to the airport to meet my son, Elan, in Guam.
I took Nanette to lunch to thank her and then headed off to the airport to meet my son, Elan, in Guam.
[N.J.:
When I was editing the original entries I decided to go on line and see what’s
changed in Rota in the past ten years – evidently not much! If you want to go somewhere different where
no one else has been Rota’s the place!
And where else can you play a round of golf on a gorgeous golf course
(and probably have the course to yourself) for about forty bucks? Check out the Website!]
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