Roti - Can I?

Well, it's actually Roti Canai, pronounced Chennai, after the region in India where these flat breads originate from. But when I first saw that spelling ‘can I’ has always stuck in my head, as though it was always a good time to ask for one. Little else elicits more comments and likes on my facebook posts (even more so than my cat and renovation photos) than a snap of a crispy roti with a side bowl of curry. Friends, relatives and ex-Islanders who have tasted the delights of Christmas Island roti and no longer have regular access express their frustration and in some cases, direct abuse at me for showing such a photo.

I recall a discussion at work after I had not long moved to the island. My colleague was trying to convince me of the virtues of roti and how it was eaten, tearing the bread apart and using it to scoop up the curry sauce served on the side. As I stared incredulously at her, my reaction was similar to those I have subsequently tried to indoctrinate into the cult of roti…’Curry? For breakfast?!’

But, like all things that you aren’t supposed to have too much of, these little flat breads full of flour, condensed milk, margarine and then grilled with lots of oil are moreish…..and dangerously addictive.

They are usually available at one of the Malay cafes in the Kampong, but over the years these businesses have changed ownership and premises, and opened and closed, and you may invariably find yourself in an illicit roti kitchen in someone’s garage, getting your fix. No signage, no advertising, no fancy seating or decor, but a 30 minute wait with a queue down the driveway as word had spread around the island that a roti ‘den’ was in operation.

But for many ex residents, our local food experiences form some of their favourite memories of the island - all stemming from our unique and preserved mix of living Malay, Chinese and European cultures. Malay cafes and food stalls serving a range of delicious mouth- watering dishes, with a queue for homemade chicken satays that would rival a waiting line for the latest iphone release. Little noodle shops in tucked away places, with barely a menu on display, but everyone knowing what day of the week it was and what was the only meal option being served. Our Noodle House being full of a lunch time, with a man behind the counter who literally squiggled your order in a hand drawn window on a sheet of paper, using no names or table numbers, and somehow your Bee Hoon miraculously finding its way to you. Another gent in long black pants and a collared shirt in the kitchen, manning 2 flaming woks, flinging ingredients in and tossing them all with gusto, then flipping them onto a dish in a matter of minutes – displaying  all the flair and grace of a gifted showman.

As a small and remote island, Christmas Island has always had its challenges feeding its populace. A small cemetery on the island full of poor souls who perished with beriberi during early settlement is testament to that fact. In an unjust irony, Christmas Island was settled for the mining and exporting of rock phosphate, a slow release fertiliser. But our topsoil is deficient of much needed nitrogen and it is therefore challenging, or impossible, to grow conventional fruits and vegetables. Coupled with a drier than usual tropical environment and a lack of infrastructure, we have not been able to establish farming on any scale that could afford us self-sufficiency, and we are reliant on much of our foodstuffs being shipped and flown in, at great expense.

In the early days of settlement, low paid staff were heavily reliant on foodstuffs supplied to them by the British Phosphate Company. These basic supplies were also a means to control the working populace. Misbehaviour and disobedience could see ones rations reduced - stale items and white rice, long shipped to the island and stored for months, providing very little nutrition and sustenance.

To supplement their diet, the labourers caught fish and hunted easy to catch imperial pigeons and our large land crabs, the Robber crab. The pigeons faced extinction with the unsustainable numbers being poached and the authorities had to take harsh steps, fining people if caught with the birds in their possession.

Another way was to establish hidden gardens. Fresh herbs, chillies, lime trees, banana palms and papayas would be secretly grown on the edge of settlements, or areas near where there was mining activity. These subversive gardens undermined the power the corporation had over its workforce and would be destroyed if found and its’ owner punished, possibly with deportation. To this day, dotted around the island are the remnants of these long abandoned gardens. Lime trees, chilli bushes and banana palms provide the present day island inhabitants with a bit of ‘jungle shopping’ and the occasional surprise bounty whilst out exploring.

In recent years, a scientific study established in partnership between a West Australian university, the Phosphate mine and private enterprise, has identified a solution to the nitrogen deficiency - growing crops of legumes and then ploughing them back into the soil, in preparation for growing other crops. A small lease is under development, with some crops being commercialised early 2016. An aquaculture venture is also under development, which will enable better hydroponic options, and a supply of freshwater fish.

As Christmas Island looks to diversify its economy to embrace tourism, we won’t be in a position compete with the gourmet food regions around Australia for some time yet. And whilst the residents wait to see what the future brings with these new ventures, we will no doubt continue to make the most of our unique food culture, embracing the roti, Nasi Lemak, Wanton Wednesday, Fish ball Friday, Pork Rice Saturday and Chicken Rice Sunday and be thankful that we have access to these tasty and varied food options in such a small and remote dot in the middle of the Indian Ocean.

 Article by Lisa Preston ©

A 'How To' on harnessing the 'Call of the Wild'.

Christmas Island, whilst being quite remote and not overly large, is proud to boast an endemic hawk-owl. These little birds have persevered despite introduced pests, feral cats and extensive clearing of habitat for mining. My first real sighting of the hawk-owl was during our very first Bird & Nature Week in 2006. Resident biologist and guide for the week, David James, escorted the group to a well-known hawk-owl hang out on our local golf course. The group waited in silence whilst David played a tape on a small player, projected through a megaphone. As I listened to the whirring, scratchy call being played, I leant over to a friend and quietly declared that ‘no self-respecting hawk-owl was going to fall for that’. Within minutes, we had a bird calling back. A minute or so after that, David put the torch in the tree and clear as day for all to see, there was a hawk-owl calling to its heart’s content. We got a very good view of the bird, with one guest making the comment that ‘that was all too easy’. Within 20 minutes of arriving we were back in our cars and heading back to town. I thought to myself that these little guys are very accommodating, this will be a breeze.



Christmas Island Hawk-owl (Ninox natalis) Photo: R Jackson

David’s contract had finished on the island, so for our next Bird & Nature Week, I was front and centre for the hawk-owl activity, with assistance from another guide, Nic Dunlop. Again, went to the same spot, within minutes had the bird and many happy guests. I was soon to learn in subsequent years and hawk-owl tours, that this was not always going to be the case. A bit of rain early in the evening, too much moonlight or holding my tongue on the wrong side of my mouth meant that they just wouldn’t respond to the playback, or in some cases, respond   but not come in close for a viewing.
 

After many, many times of listening to the call, trying for hours and tiring of fiddling with the equipment in the dark, I started mimicking the call. This was handy if the bird had responded and was sitting close for viewing, ensuring that it didn’t fly off before guests had a chance to see it. In some cases, I was finding that the birds were making an initial ‘settling in’ call that wasn’t on my playback, a series of gruff grumbles staking their territory, before they established their boobook type call. I found that if I mimicked that first call, the bird was more likely to stay and ‘chat’, then I continued with the boobook call to keep them interested.  

 Whilst almost always having to use the tape to initially get them to respond, I have noted if they are in the mood to acquiesce, that me mimicking them will keep them in position for viewing for a longer period. I find that by using my own call I can mimic their tone and volume more accurately, and mix up their call, like they might be doing ( our birds can have an extra hoot at the end of the call). It saves fumbling with the playback gear and the possibility of scaring the bird away if I don’t judge the volume correctly, or the Hilltop Hoods song, the next track on my Ipod, starts blaring inappropriately (Nosebleed Section follows Ninox natalis alphabetically on my device).

 

I have transferred this skill to some of our other birds on the island, allowing photographers and birdwatchers a better chance of seeing some of our birds. Our endemic white-eyes flit through the forest very quickly, but a little whistling call can bring them on to lower, closer branches whilst they investigate the call. Our very nervous Emerald doves take to the wing as soon as you get anywhere near them. I flushed one a couple of years ago but it luckily landed close by in tree. I could see it deciding if it needed to take off further into the bush and I indicated to a couple of serious Taiwanese bird photographers with me, to wait back. I mimicked the call I had heard in the forest many times and this bird settled on the branch and started calling back, its glorious iridescent emerald feathers shining in the sun, directly facing the photographers. I had a couple of very happy clients on that tour.



Hawk-owl in flight Photo: R Jackson

 Whilst I cant advocate for more or less playback for bird viewing, I really think you have to let yourself be guided by the bird. Once you can tap into their behaviour and their mood, I feel you can increase the level of pleasure in the viewing, for not only yourself, but your guests.

Indian Ocean Experiences offers Hawk-owl tours. Visit indianoceanexperiences.com.au for more information. Article: Lisa Preston

Christmas Island's iconic barges to retire

Rohani assisting with an asylum seeker transfer. Photo: D Robertson

They often made news headlines and graced more front page stories than the Kardashians, but the public is unlikely to know their names. They played a pivotal role and their iconic image came to represent a controversial part of Australia’s recent political and social history. Now, the hardworking barges of the Christmas Island Port, Sasha and Rohani, are due for retirement.

 

The barges rose to notoriety in their role transferring numbers of asylum seekers from unseaworthy vessels, or after rescue by Australian Border Command ships, onto the safety of the jetty at Flying Fish Cove. Initially, when commissioned in 1994, their brief was to assist with stevedoring of the regular phosphate merchant ships and the Island’s supply ship. Their part quickly expanded when policy changes around refugees and immigration by the then Rudd Government, led to an increased number of people seeking entry to the country via boats.  At the behest of the Australian Maritime Safety Authority, the vessels were modified for passenger transport. Despite not being designed for the purpose, they took to their new occupation with gusto, sometimes transferring up to 800 people during a 24 hour period, and an estimated 40,000 people over 5 years.

 

The jetty, from which the barges are launched, also wasn’t initially designed for passenger transfers. The barge is lifted with a gantry crane until the deck is level with the jetty and then passengers can step across safely.  It was during this process of transfer and disembarking of asylum seekers that news crews and newspaper photographers got their footage and photos, which fed the seemingly never ending news cycle around boat arrivals, asylum seekers and their plight. The barges inadvertently provided the stage whilst picturesque Flying Fish Cove supplied the backdrop.

 

The barges are operated by a well-trained crew, mostly young, local Malay men. Following in the footsteps of their forefathers, many of these men are attracted to this very traditional local career, and in fact the very reason their families were settled on Christmas Island.

 

In the early 1900s, when the phosphate mine was established and started exporting ore, an elaborate wharf system was built. The Chinese workers, enlisted to work the mine, were not comfortable working ocean- side. With a strong affiliation to the sea and confidence in a marine environment, the Malay people were a natural fit for the job and were recruited from South East Asia to fulfil the necessary shipping roles, which included stevedoring, ship handling and diving, a requirement to maintain the Island’s deep mooring system.

 

The Malay community was initially settled near the Flying Fish Cove area, close to the original wharf, an area now colloquially known as ‘Kampong’, a Malay word meaning village. A number of ramshackle huts and buildings shaped the original ‘township’, eventually making way for high density housing in the form of multilevel, concrete apartments, based on a design blueprint adopted from Singapore. The close proximity to the ocean for work also provided their playground.

 

Many Malay folk can attest their earliest childhood memories involve fishing off the Island’s cliffs and the jetty with siblings and family. An early introduction to the ocean, and handing down of local knowledge, gives the Malay children a confidence in the marine environment that others can only acknowledge and admire. Children are adept with fishing rods, and until recent changes adopted around skippers tickets and legal age limits for operating boats, a number of young children had dinghies with small motors. They spent the day transferring their friends between the large moorings out to sea, looking for the best fishing spots, or helping their fathers by driving the family fishing boat onto the trailer at the end of a successful day out on the water.

 

Cyclone Gillian, whose destructive visit in March 2014 damaged a number of trees, provided an opportunity to revive the traditional sampan building, a hand- crafted timber boat carved from a single tree trunk. A couple of felled trees supplied the raw materials, with a number of the elders in the community involving their children and grandchildren in the finer art of fashioning a boat. The larger sampan is sturdy enough to support a small outboard motor; a design that that has stood the test of time and can be adapted to accommodate the modern comfort of a motor.

 

When the iconic vessels where commissioned, there were three women in the employ of the then, CI Marine Department. Rohani, whose father had worked as a stevedore on the Island, was the first woman to work in the department. Sasha, a lady who settled on the island for a few years, was encouraged to commence a stevedoring career, spending 3 years in the role.  And Fatimah, generally referred to as the ‘coffee lady’, was also skilled in stevedoring. Her name adorns a smaller vessel used by the CI Port.

 

Kelana Arshad, Rohani’s younger brother, is continuing the tradition. 8 years ago he established (in partnership) Complete Stevedoring and Freight Services. Second generation island-born, Kelana built his experience and knowledge through a sequence of jobs on the island, before fate delivered an opportunity to establish his own business. He now provides employment and training for a number of local people.

Arshad Sidek and forward gang mooring a ship. Circa 1960's. Photo supplied by Arshad Family

 

Two new barges will arrive early February, however Sasha and Fatimah will continue in their roles until the new barges are fully commissioned. A few locals have expressed their support for the Rohani to be archived in an open grassy area in Drumsite – a mixed residential and industrial area on Christmas Island. The proposed site already houses an old locomotive and other machinery used in the Island’s past; an outdoor museum growing over time.  

 

In keeping with tradition, the local Malay community were canvassed to provide names for the new barges, Berani (meaning Brave) and Percaya (pronounced Perchaya, meaning Believe) were settled on. At a cost of $2.4 million, they will play their important part in servicing the people of Christmas Island, and perhaps in their own time earn the iconic status of their predecessors, if for less controversial reasons.