The Outer Banks … Out of This World

The Outer Banks … Out of This World

With town names like Kitty Hawk, Nag's Head and Kill Devil Hills and long, sandy beaches, lighthouses and lots of tourist attractions, as well as historical significance, who could resist a visit to North Carolina's Outer Banks, known locally as OBX.

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Ferry to West Island and Back

Cocos Keeling Islands – Indian Ocean

view from west island

 

It's almost time to leave the Cocos and we still hadn't taken the ferry to the other side of the lagoon to visit West Island. It's the ex-pat Australian side of the atoll, the Admin Center, the larger supermarket AND the place we needed to visit to check out and get our clearance papers. We consulted the ferry schedule and there were no ferries from Direction Island until Thursday, so we dinghied over to Home Island, tied the dinghy securely to the long pier and planned to catch the ferry from there.

As it turned out the Federal Police were on Home Island for the day and we were able to check out there which was quite convenient. It was a quick, efficient, painless procedure to get our clearance papers for Rodrigues and our passports stamped. Plenty of time to still catch the 10:30 ferry to West Island. We met up with some German cruising friends and boarded the ferry for the 20 minute ride, bought our tickets for $2.50 each and enjoyed a very old Tom & Jerry cartoon en route.

 

friends on ferry

 

I'm not sure what we expected West Island to be … the big smoke of the Cocos, I guess. We caught a mini-bus at the end of the jetty for a 7km ride into “town”. The supermarket took up a small portion of the Cocos Shop pre-fab facility … the other shops were closed. It didn't offer much more than the Shamrok market at Home Island. I bought a couple of onions, a cabbage and some apples … that was about it. We did see, however, “Bun Spice” which caught our attention. After a long passage, perhaps this might  be considered an essential.

 

bun spice

 

Though Wednesday was the big shopping day, nothing seemed open. We found the small Info Center and learned there were two places open for lunch … from 11:30 to 1pm only. We chose the more casual (and less expensive) Tropika which was a basic burger and chips kind of place with a lovely covered porch out back facing the ocean. The views were great. The food was mediocre, but David's “cheeseburger in Paradise” was just what the doctor ordered.

 

tripicka resuartant view

 

Other than a few souvenir items at the Info Center, there was nothing to buy. We indulged in a Magnum ice cream as we checked out the Cocos airport. The golf club is right next to the airport and evidently in order to play through all nine holes, the golfers must play across the runway.

 

airport golf

 

After looking at a few more pretty views, we settled down to wait 1-1/2 hours for the return bus to the ferry dock. We'd seen pretty much all we could see that was open and available here. Most of  West Island seems to be dedicated to tourism … motels, guest houses, car and sports equipment rentals, tours. Quite the disappointment. We had expected a bit more. Home Island with its resident Malay population offers more “village charm”. But, heck, you couldn't visit the Cocos without at least making a trip to West Island to make sure you weren't missing anything.

 

bus stop

 

We watched the ferry arriving just as we got off the bus. We bought our tix and had an uneventful ride back to Home Island. The dinghy was just as we'd left it. We clambered down from the jetty and headed back to Cups. We had lots to do to get ready for our departure.

 

ferry return

A Dinghy Trip to Home Island

Cocos Keeling Islands

The winds were down and the sun was bright as we dinghied across the lagoon to Home Island. We skirted around bommies in a zigzag pattern and finally connected with the channel into Home's little harbor. The shallow waters prevent supply ships from entering. We'd watched for two days in the outer anchorage while a ship had unloaded supplies with a crane onto a lighter and a barge and then reloaded empty containers.

 

lighter and barge

 

We passed the ferry dock and jetty and beached the dinghy on the foreshore. We climbed up to the main road, a brick-paved, single lane thoroughfare which was perfect for the quads and motor bikes that everyone seemed to be driving here. As we approached the jetty, we saw the Welcome to Home Island sign and an info kiosk with an island map.

 

welcome sign

 

The map and several signposts directed us to the Shire Council's office. We needed to pay our anchoring fees to the shire … $50/week. Like many other small island communities we've visited, the pace was slow and things were laid back. That said, the payment process was computerized and they accepted credit cards. No complaints.

 

shire office

 

We had passed the island museum on the way in and inquired as to the opening hours.

“I'll give you the key”, said the young Cocos Malay woman. And just like that, we had access to the museum.

 

key to museum

 

Housed in an old white-washed brick copra storage building, the museum was small, one large room, in fact, but it held some interesting items and provided some background information on the Cocos Malay population. I was particularly intrigued with shadow puppetry which is an entertainment art they're working to revive here. The Clunies-Ross family, the owners of the old copra plantation, did everything possible to maintain the isolation of their workers, forbidding fraternization with visitors or even use of communications. Having left their homeland generations before, much of their culture, including their language, has morphed into a unique Cocos Island culture and only recently have they had the opportunity to explore their roots.

 

museum collage

 

We had also asked the shire office for a recommendation for lunch.

“It's Friday … nothing is open today for lunch”, she explained. “On Friday, we only work a half day and everything closes. You might try the supermarket for some fruit.”

Hmm … all restaurants closed on Fridays and evidently throughout the weekend, because why would anyone want to eat out over the weekend? This is island life. We headed to the tiny Shamrok Supermarket. Though there wasn't much in the way of freshies and the frozen food section was pretty empty, I was glad to see that civilization had indeed come to Cocos … there on the shelf were Hello Kitty and Angry Bird animal crackers. We passed on those in favor of a couple of apples for lunch.

 

cocos keeling supermarket

 

We wandered along well-worn paths, past rows of pre-fab houses with antennas stuck on the roofs.

The Clunies-Ross family had built Oceania House during the heyday of the copra industry. The remains of the building still exist although a new Oceania House, which looks to be a luxurious place, is in the process of being built. The walls of the old estate are crumbling and little is left.

 

oceania house callage

 

The cemetery was at the northern end of the island and we decided to dinghy north along the shore for a visit rather than walking. The graveyard was a beautiful, serene clearing, well-tended and cared for. Cocos Malay grave markers incorporate an Islamic motif on each grave. Many were draped with the traditional scarf worn by the women. Some had umbrellas and some tiny canopies to protect the graves from the sun and elements.

 

cocos keeling malay graves

 

We also found the family burial site of the Clunies-Ross family dating from the mid-19th century.

 

clunies ross burial site

 

The tide was low and we pushed and pulled the dinghy quite a ways offshore before finding enough water to set down the engine. We passed tiny Prison Island, the island to which Alexander Hare and his seraglio of women were relegated, and thought about a stop there, but the entrance was too shallow at the moment and decided to leave it till another day.

 

shallow exit

 

A 20-minute ride around those same coral heads and we were back at Cups, hot and dusty from our little excursion ashore. Once again, the turquoise blue water invited us to cool off and relax. A refreshing dip, a sundowner in the cockpit, dinner and a movie. Really … it doesn't get much better. It really doesn't.