Conquering Cowardice and Coconuts

I have conquered my cowardice and am a Snake Island survivor!

The day Finn cajoled me into a visit to Snake Island has turned out to be one of my favorite experiences of this trip. The dinghy dropped us off on the front doorstep of his little compound. A series of carefully selected, freshly-sprouting coconuts create the border for a welcoming pathway.

To the right, several larger, flat deposits of wood catch my eye and I am shown by Finn that the snakes like to live under those. They aren’t too close to the the walkway though, so I am good for now.

There are coral pieces placed to the side of the path, creating an island-garden landscape that showcases the care and dedication devoted to creating this camp.

With pride, Finn shows me the homely little hut he helped to build and his woven palm frond mat. The hut has an extra layer of ‘roofing’ due to it’s orientation below a towering and very fertile coconut tree. I am sure there are snakes hiding out in the ceiling, and spend enough time inspecting it before being satisfied it is snake-free. We discuss the dangers of falling coconuts and, assured that my son is more than knowledgeable on this topic, we move right along to the fire pit presentation.

The fire pit was quite the construction feat. The consistency and uniformity of building style here on Finn’s Snake Island is one that would please even the most stringent of gated community developers. Another palm frond roof, secured to carefully selected driftwood beams, positioned perpendicular to the existing main structure. Far enough removed to avoid any danger of fire contagion, and visually appealing. I am ecstatic to see my son doing real-world stuff on an uninhabited island deep in the Mentawai Islands of Indonesia. I love that he spends hours on this project, both alone and with his new friends.

We gather driftwood pieces for firewood, along with old palm fronds and well-aged coconuts. I gleefully approach a piece of dead wood, looking perfectly dried out, flat and the right size to fit in the pit. Before I actually picked it up, my lazy short-term memory reactivates and I realize this is the same log where the reptiles reside. The same one Finn had lifted up earlier to show me the two sea-snakes he always finds there. I got a major case of the heebie-jeebies!

The fire-pit now sufficiently stocked, we are ready to set it alight. I am excited to see Finn put his endless hours of YouTube Survival Video education to the test and see him create fire. I picture the scene in Castaway, with incendiary wisps of coconut fibers smoldering from the incessant and insanely rapid rotation of stick against wood. I picture somewhat blistered hands that would serve as daily reminders of the effort it took to create fire and therefore enhance our appreciation of the energy consumed to power a cooktop, light switch and AC unit.

Finn pulled out a cigarette lighter and voilá!

We had fire in an instant.

I may or may not have accidentally dropped the lighter into a snorkeling mask filled with sea-water to foil any future attempts at such oxymoronic actions as lighting a camp fire on a deserted island with a cigarette lighter.

Finn informs me of the dangers of an intact coconut bursting from the fire, right about the time one actually burst and jump-scared both of us. He does know quite a lot out here in the wild.

We decide to go on a walk all the way around the island, circling the palmy jungle as we would circumnavigate Saturn via her golden-white rings. The scenery is stunning. The turquoise of the water is captivating, calming and cooling. We wander until we come across a coconut tree with a trunk angled around 45 degrees. Finn would like to shimmy up and pull down a couple of fruit but it is Ian who has the athleticism and skill to take care of this job.

We carry the two weighty coconuts with us back to the fort, along the way looking for tools that could help us open them up so we could drink the juice. I challenge Finn to a coconut opening contest. Honestly, I can barely open a coconut with a machete on a sturdy concrete floor, so I had little expectation of getting one open with nothing more than my bare hands and some tools that nature provided.

Both Finn and I got creative, using coral, rocks, and anything else that looked solid enough, to bang, slam, whack and attack our coconuts. At first, we didn’t work as a team. This was “Survivor,” Bean-family style. My friends and family know how competitive I am!

Forty-five minutes later, Finn had all but given up on his, but sidled over to me and upon seeing the progress I had made, stayed to watch. I was fortunate to have found a sturdy piece of coral with a little stony outcrop. With enthusiastic pounding of the nut against the jagged coral, I am able to create just enough damage, to start peeling lengths of outer-shell fibers away. Once you get it started, and with a plethora of patience, you can methodically remove much of the outer fibrous part.

It is tedious work. I am sitting in the sand, swatting away giant horse-flies while they let out a battle cry to invite their comrades to join in the assault. I am sweating, the beads of sweat dripping into my eyes but I can’t wipe them because my hands are coated in coconut fibers mixed with sand. I am beginning to look like a breaded chicken tender, as the fine sand adheres to all of my body.

Eventually, the inner nut is exposed. I keep pulling and peeling- as long as I can get to the three soft little eye holes on the top, I can access the water. I poke the soft spots with a perfectly-pointed piece of coral provided by Finn. I am elated.  It does feel like quite the accomplishment to open a coconut without any man-made tools. Finn and I take turns allowing the water to drip into our mouths and that completes the challenge.

This coconut came back from Snake Island with me and it sits like a trophy on the front railing of our Uma.

Perseverance is the hard work you do after you get tired of doing the hard work you already did.

–Newt Gingrich (1943- ), American politician, historian, and author

I think perseverance is an important concept to teach our kids. I find in this age of instant gratification, we aren’t presented with as many opportunities to learn this art of slow and steady wins the race. Video games are fast-paced, and if you lose, you can always hit ‘restart’ immediately and try again. The internet has answers to our questions for us within seconds. Finn frequently questions Ian and I about why he must study math and such when he can find the answer online at any moment?  

I am grateful that Finn enjoys fishing and adventures that involve exposure to survival skills. It balances out his equally intense passion for Minecraft and YouTube.

I want him to remember our coconut contest, as simple as it was. I want him to feel that same sense of accomplishment that comes from doing something that has always seemed too hard. There is much value in having to work towards a goal, and therefore more fully appreciating the outcome.

It seems as a parent, we need to deliberately create, or intentionally nurture situations that challenge our kids to persevere. We need to be more aware of the downsides to instant gratification, holding our ground when it would be so easy to cave in and just give them what we know will make them so happy!

Finn has his heart set on this fishing jet ski by SeaDoo. It is rather fancy and a toy that is certainly not a necessity. I gently remind him of how much effort it will take to save up the money for this rather fun Personal Water Craft. We talk about how he might create a business or a blog to generate some income. I tell him that if he does start his own website, that writing blog posts and creating content would certainly count towards his home-schooling writing curriculum. He is intrigued by the concept that he could possibly earn himself a SeaDoo Fish Pro while satisfying some of his educational requirements. We discuss affiliate marketing and click-funnels. These are as foreign to him as learning Bahasa Indonesia. The sheer volume of knowledge necessary to create such a project makes him feel as though he is a tiny little mudskipper in the Indian Ocean. Even mudskippers find a way to thrive in the big wide world though. Time will tell just how much our son really wants this jet ski!

I would love to hear your thoughts on teaching kids about the concept of small, regular effort yielding big results. How do you nurture tenacity in your kids or yourself? What do you do to impart these lessons? What do you remember from lessons you learned growing up that had a huge impact on you?

The man who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small stones.

–Confucius (551-479 BC), philosopher