Papa Mike’s Palau Blog

Helen Island

I stare longingly over the reef at the open ocean beyond. It has been two months since I fell overboard while traveling to Sonsorol Island. Perhaps the eight Red Rooster Ales were a contributing factor, but I really think it was that rogue wave coinciding with the cleavage distraction to my left that caused me to loose my balance. I was so concerned that my beer may have been contaminated with seawater that I forgot to yell. But that is all behind me know, a distant memory—gone with the tide.
We are alone here on Helen Reef, up until now an uninhabited atoll in the Southwest corner of Micronesia, but now home to these seven island girls and I—oh yeah, and twelve million nesting terns. Do you have any idea how much noise twelve million birds can make? Where was I? Oh yes, back to the story. This morning was just a typical island day, breakfast was lobster for eight, I prefer eggs but hey, do you think I want to get pecked to death? Tuesday was washing off the breakfast banana leafs, when Saturday ran up and shouted,
“Papa Mike, there’s been a terrible shipwreck just off the northern tip of the island!”
I hate it when she gets that emotional, but hey, she is my only red head.
“Calm down I’ll go take a look.” I stood and walked to the north end of the island. Before my eyes was a sight that I shall never forget.
Just beyond the reef was a container ship, the USS Budweiser, resting on its side. Just to the left of the first ship was a second even larger ship. I could just barely make out the name on the side of it, the Norwegian Princess, bound for Koror with a cargo of ice from Norway. The incoming tide was flushing both beer and ice through the passage in the reef and onto our narrow beach. There on the beach were Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday scooping it up and carrying it to our makeshift camp. Everyone was smiling and even the twelve million terns seemed to quiet down, acknowledging the solemn occasion. For the first time in two months I didn’t even care that I was standing in tern droppings.
That’s when the phone rang and I woke up. It was the Hawaiian timeshare people on the phone, late with my payment again. Now, where are those girls?

Well, parts of the story are true! Helen Island is a well-known nesting place for flocks of lesser-crested terns. Where there are an abundance of terns there certainly is an abundance of tern droppings. Papa Mike has been seen nesting on various stools in close proximity of Red Rooster Ale and is habitually behind on his timeshare payments. Besides, I didn’t know what else to write about an uninhabited island

Blue Dot behind trees above 1st Marine Memorial is crash site

I landed on Peleliu 22,712 days too late for the World War II invasion on this tiny island in the South Pacific. But I soon found out that the recovery and identification of the missing soldiers from that day over sixty years ago was still not over.

Around 5:00 they piled into the Mayumi’s, dirty, sweaty and cursing. After a shower and a Bud Light they assembled around the plastic covered picnic tables in the serving area. They weren’t hard to identify, with their short-cropped hair and perfect English voices. I had to smile remembering my time amongst their ranks, in an instant I realized that I was being overrun by the US Military. Tonight there were two birthdays to celebrate and I was invited to join in with the festivities. We had dinner and exchanged one-liners as the two birthday boys were presented balloons over-representing parts of the male anatomy. The celebration, complete with two birthday cakes, was a great hit and the kidding went on for hours. Later that night I was to find out that their purpose on Peleliu was of a far more serious matter.

It seems that a while back the wreckage of a TBM Avenger Dive Bomber had been discovered after over sixty years of being hidden on an outcropping over Bloody Nose Ridge, site of the fiercest battle on Peleliu. It can be assumed the bomber took off from the nearby airfield on a thirteen second bomb run dropping napalm on the Japanese that were fighting from caves on the ridge. Speculation was that the plane was hit by Japanese fire and has been buried in the jungle for over sixty years. The leader of the detachment told me that they had determined that the plane had a crew of three on board and through forensic pathology they will be able to identify the crew. I suppose you could be impressed with the technology that will allow us to identify the crew, I must say that I am much more impressed with a country that will go to all the cost and trouble to identify a three man flight crew and cross three more names off the list of missing in action soldiers from the Second World War.

Helmet and Cross at Red Beach Memorial

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