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Vaitupu: Two years on a remote Polynesian atoll
185 pages, Hardcover
First published March 31, 1999
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Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews
February 26, 2026
I wanted to like this book more, but was disappointed in the end. John Chalkley and his wife Sylvia spend two years on Vaitupu, a central atoll of Tuvalu, fromm 1976-1978. Starting off with the good things, the book has some wonderful illustrations by the author that make the story come to life more. Unfortunately, the illustrations are about it with the good stuff.
The storytelling of the book is choppy and it's not crafted too well. While the accounts are all real, it's mostly Chalkley's observations and rare are the moments in which characters have a voice. This wholly descriptive approach to this description of life on Vaitupu makes the story feel stagnant and made it a rather rough read. It's somewhat elevated language also didn't make for a fun read.
Chalkley goes to lengths to describe island life, but too often gets lost in side narrations and strange comparisons and forays into classical European art (which makes sense, considering he worked as an art teacher). Nonetheless, these comparisons sometimes overshadow the actual events in the narration and make the scenes feel somewhat stale.
Some takes from Chalkley are also more than a bit dubious: while on Fiji, he complains that colonialism is too often seen in a negative light and that there should be more reverence for certain characters. Coming from an inhabitant of the former colonizing power, this seems more than a bit tactless. While of course people like Donald Kennedy on Vaitupu are sometimes (more or less) fondly remembered, this does not justify colonialism at a larger scale. Some of the jokes and perceptions of gender roles also seem a bit dusty, probably having to do with age.
All in all, it's an okayish book that was a paik to get through. Some insights about life on Vaitupu I will take with me, but unfortunately I don't feel like the book will be particularly memorable.
The storytelling of the book is choppy and it's not crafted too well. While the accounts are all real, it's mostly Chalkley's observations and rare are the moments in which characters have a voice. This wholly descriptive approach to this description of life on Vaitupu makes the story feel stagnant and made it a rather rough read. It's somewhat elevated language also didn't make for a fun read.
Chalkley goes to lengths to describe island life, but too often gets lost in side narrations and strange comparisons and forays into classical European art (which makes sense, considering he worked as an art teacher). Nonetheless, these comparisons sometimes overshadow the actual events in the narration and make the scenes feel somewhat stale.
Some takes from Chalkley are also more than a bit dubious: while on Fiji, he complains that colonialism is too often seen in a negative light and that there should be more reverence for certain characters. Coming from an inhabitant of the former colonizing power, this seems more than a bit tactless. While of course people like Donald Kennedy on Vaitupu are sometimes (more or less) fondly remembered, this does not justify colonialism at a larger scale. Some of the jokes and perceptions of gender roles also seem a bit dusty, probably having to do with age.
All in all, it's an okayish book that was a paik to get through. Some insights about life on Vaitupu I will take with me, but unfortunately I don't feel like the book will be particularly memorable.
October 1, 2025
Tuvalu
Polynesian island nation near Fiji, east of Australia
Acknowledgments: My thanks to my wife Sylvia who agreed to accompany me on this escapade and remained cheerful and supportive throughout.
I believe that seafaring societies have always shown relatively high levels of technical development together with robust social structures and a strong sense of adventure and enterprise.
It must be a very common desire to want to step right outside it for a prolonged period in order to gain a better perspective of the way we are.
During our time on Vaitupu, feast days were always heralded by the squealing of the pigs. The fish was easily the best that I'd tasted anywhere, wrapped in leaves and baked in the earth oven. There were also shell fish and crab, served in curry sauce, fit for any gourmet menu.
Another delicacy I encountered was "lauliu", fern shoots chopped up, mixed with coconut cream and braised. The bananas were very sweet and exquisitely flavoured. We had never tasted any as good as these at home. To wash down this substantial fare there was a continuous supply of drinking coconuts.
"Shark, shark!” Sure enough, there was a Hammerhead. They assured me that there had never been any shark attacks round the shores of Vaitupu, but we’d haul up huge fish with chillingly large bites taken out of them. I, for one, didn't believe their reassurances.
One morning I stepped into my rustic classroom and I immediately detected a certain atmosphere of excitement. The cause of this was up in the rafters. Wedged snugly between a bundle of canes and rolled up mats was a litter of new born kittens.
Many of the names lost all their poetry when translated into English. Nofoainga's name actually meant a chair. So mundane, yet it was closer to the word seat when used in the sense of position of importance.
The contrast between these two peoples is huge. On the one hand the Indians are hard working and almost obsessively geared to achieving economic advantage but the Fijians are largely subsistence farmers with deeply ingrained conservative tribal traditions and a more relaxed attitude to life. Religion emphasizes the divide. The Indian population is mainly Hindu while the Fijians are mostly Christian. We saw very little evidence of intermarriage between the two races.
There it was, a stage of sorts, isolated in a huge ocean. One couldn't see the drama at this distance but it was all there and their play would continue to unfold without us.
Polynesian island nation near Fiji, east of Australia
Acknowledgments: My thanks to my wife Sylvia who agreed to accompany me on this escapade and remained cheerful and supportive throughout.
I believe that seafaring societies have always shown relatively high levels of technical development together with robust social structures and a strong sense of adventure and enterprise.
It must be a very common desire to want to step right outside it for a prolonged period in order to gain a better perspective of the way we are.
During our time on Vaitupu, feast days were always heralded by the squealing of the pigs. The fish was easily the best that I'd tasted anywhere, wrapped in leaves and baked in the earth oven. There were also shell fish and crab, served in curry sauce, fit for any gourmet menu.
Another delicacy I encountered was "lauliu", fern shoots chopped up, mixed with coconut cream and braised. The bananas were very sweet and exquisitely flavoured. We had never tasted any as good as these at home. To wash down this substantial fare there was a continuous supply of drinking coconuts.
"Shark, shark!” Sure enough, there was a Hammerhead. They assured me that there had never been any shark attacks round the shores of Vaitupu, but we’d haul up huge fish with chillingly large bites taken out of them. I, for one, didn't believe their reassurances.
One morning I stepped into my rustic classroom and I immediately detected a certain atmosphere of excitement. The cause of this was up in the rafters. Wedged snugly between a bundle of canes and rolled up mats was a litter of new born kittens.
Many of the names lost all their poetry when translated into English. Nofoainga's name actually meant a chair. So mundane, yet it was closer to the word seat when used in the sense of position of importance.
The contrast between these two peoples is huge. On the one hand the Indians are hard working and almost obsessively geared to achieving economic advantage but the Fijians are largely subsistence farmers with deeply ingrained conservative tribal traditions and a more relaxed attitude to life. Religion emphasizes the divide. The Indian population is mainly Hindu while the Fijians are mostly Christian. We saw very little evidence of intermarriage between the two races.
There it was, a stage of sorts, isolated in a huge ocean. One couldn't see the drama at this distance but it was all there and their play would continue to unfold without us.
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews