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By Tom Latino with Bonnie Latino
Columnists

“What and where is Yap?” I asked Bonnie, my wife and personal travel agent. “It’s a primitive island about 500 miles from here (Guam) in the Caroline Islands and also a part of Micronesia. To its west is the Philippine Sea and to its east is the Western Pacific,” she replied. “And we’re going there, why?” was my next question. Bonnie answered, “Because it’s very different and will be exciting! Trust me.” Since she had never led me wrong on our previous trips, I agreed. “Let’s pack our bags!”
Two weeks later we were on a commercial Boeing 727 on final approach to Yap. The pilot announced that he was flying a low approach over the airport runway to let them know we were there. I wondered why. “Didn’t they have radios and radar and a control tower?” None of the above! As we came back around to land, I noticed that the runway was short and narrow, aircraft wreckage scattered along one side. A decades-old fire truck waited on the opposite side, then sped along next to us as we landed. Thankfully, it was not needed. We taxied to the parking ramp in front of the airport terminal, which consisted of four posts covered by a thatched palm roof with a sign that read “Welcome to Yap”. As we waited to exit the airplane, the pilot announced that he and his crew would return on Friday to pick us up. That meant for five days there would be no way onto or off of the island!
Near the gate we saw numerous Yap natives observing us from the other side of the fence. An older man with bloody teeth smiled at me. Shocking! Then as we looked at the other people, I noticed they all had bloody teeth. What disease might have caused this? Bonnie had finally done it. We were going to die! We soon learned that their teeth color was the result of their practice of chewing betel nuts, which have a slightly narcotic effect. So, no deadly disease, but weird, nonetheless. “Aren’t you glad I went to Atmore’s library to search National Geographic for exotic travel destinations,” Bonnie whispered, “while I was waiting for you to find housing on Guam?” All I knew was that I had married a crazy lady who would always make life interesting but, hey, I knew that the day I married her.
Our group of five located our small rental car, loaded our luggage and ourselves into the vehicle and drove off to find our hotel, which was more like a World War II dormitory. Every two rooms shared an adjoining bathroom. Each room had a small sink, but the toilet and shower were in the shared bathroom. Wonderful! At least the couple in the other room was a fun married couple, Woody and Robin, who Bonnie knew from her job at Andersen’s base clinic. The base psychiatrist, the eccentric yet personable Major R., whose room was down the hall, made up our adventurous group.
After getting our room keys, we all piled back into the car to go exploring. Our first stop was the service station to fill up the tank. As (Tom) was doing that, another American at the next pump said hello and introduced himself as the president of the Bank of Hawaii branch in Yap. He asked if we were headed to the fiesta on the beach. “We hadn’t heard about it,” I replied. “Is it OK for us to go?” After he assured me we would be welcome, he added, “Follow me!” And we were off to what would be one of the most magical afternoons of our 30 years in the USAF.
The site of the fiesta was a gorgeous beach with sparkling white sand, backed by dense jungle and a beach rimmed by coconut trees swaying in the ocean breeze. Stunningly beautiful blue water lapped the beach. Scattered on the sand, there were gigantic, empty, sun-bleached, double clam shells. Yap consists of four separate islands all in close proximity and all surrounded by a common coral reef. Native people were all over the area, mostly in the shade of the coconut trees as they drank Foster’s Lager from Australia, which they quickly shared while the women prepared for the fiesta – and munched on betel nuts. The local dancers, who would perform the traditional dances, were dressed in green, yellow and red hand-woven grass skirts and colorful headbands. As was their tradition, the local women, regardless of age, were topless. As part of the preparation, the women also sprinkled orange colored crushed coral on each other’s shoulders. The men wore loin cloths made of naturally colored reeds that went through their legs and made a large plume in back – similar to a rooster tail.
The Latino travel agent had unknowingly booked our five-day adventure to coincide with the primary island’s annual Yap Day festivities on or about March 1, a happy and festive day to share the island’s history, culture, food and customs with islanders and visitors alike.
One of the men stood in front and blew on a conch shell as if to say, “Let this fiesta begin.” Women performing the first dance, appeared to range in age from early teens to very elderly. Bonnie whispered that the elders may have only been in their early to mid 40s because the year-around 80 degree temps and primitive living conditions had likely aged them tremendously. The women soon formed two lines facing each other. Each one held a four-foot bamboo. They began chanting, dancing in rhythm and striking the ground and bamboo of the person across from them.

To be continued next week.