The shortest of the coconut trees bore coconuts with a
slightly pinkish hue on the top of its exterior shell and on the inside. Of all
the coconuts we had these were my favorites. There are many strains of coconut trees and for my taste the ones with the pinkish hue which are very rare are the
most delicious. I love the cool sweetness and just slightly salty flavor of
the coconut water, especially as it always made me feel cool on hot sunny
island days. But it was those that held that edible, delicious soft jelly that
were my favorite kind of coconuts.
One very hot day, when I was a child, I remembered being very
thirsty and wanting to have a long drink of coconut water. There wasn’t anyone
to climb the tree to pick one for me, so I decided I would climb the tree
myself. I was scared of falling and breaking my long neck, or my bony arms and
legs. I knew if I did get hurt my dad would be super angry with me for doing
such a foolish thing. But, I wanted coconut water to drink; and no amount of
yelling from daddy was going to stop me now. Also he wasn’t at home to stop me
from climbing the tree. The tom-boy inside me said “ah, you can do it.” Of
course even at that age I thought I could do anything a boy could do. I wanted
coconut water and I was going to have it.
I wrapped my legs and arms as much as I could around the tree,
pulled my legs up as if I was sitting so that my bottom stuck out and started
climbing up the tree. I wanted to lock my legs and my hands tight together so
that I wouldn’t fall, but they were too short to meet each other, and so I kept
slipping back down to the ground. I was determined however; and somehow I
stopped thinking about falling and began focusing on the cool water of the
coconut. I moved onto the tree, scooted down to the bottom of the tree, bent my
knees and sat on the trunk, I wrapped my arms around it as much as I could, lay
my face on the side of the trunk and began pushing myself up with my legs,
stretching them out as far and out as long as they would go. When my legs couldn’t
stretch any more, I would hold on tight with my arms, pull my legs up again,
squeezing my legs and knees tight to the tree trunk and push myself up some
more. I kept doing this until I came to the top with the wiry branches and the green
coconut shells. As I got to the
coconuts, I held on tight with my legs and with my right hand; I pulled really
hard on the coconut with my left hand until it broke away from the bunch and
fell to the ground. Feeling really proud of myself, happy and excited, I
decided I needed three coconuts, two for me and one for my little sister.
As soon as the coconuts fell to the ground, and feeling quite
confident, I scampered down the tree twice as fast as I climbed up. I was so
excited about drinking the delicious coconut water and eating the soft jelly
that I ran into the kitchen and took one of father’s sharp kitchen knives, and
two spoons out to the tree. I set the knife and spoons on the ground and held the
coconut tight between my legs. I pushed the point of the knife slowly and
carefully into the coconut, and when it pierced through the tough shell, I
began sawing a circle around the top. I called my baby sister over who was
watching me intently. I sat her down and put the coconut to her mouth for her
to drink the water. When she had had enough, I put the coconut between her legs,
gave her a spoon so that she could scoop out the jelly from inside the coconut
and eat it, and then I began to cut one open for myself. This time I cut it
quickly, not too concerned about cutting myself; since I just did it and
nothing bad happened. As soon as the coconut was cut through, I pulled the top
off, and quickly lifted it up to my head and tilted it to my mouth and began to
drink. I guess I lifted it just a bit too quickly because the coconut water
streamed not only into my mouth but down my neck, chest, onto my belly and the
waist of my shorts. But I wasn’t concerned about that I just wanted to drink
until all the water was gone.
I felt so good as I sat under the coconut tree, feeling cool
and well pleased with myself as my sister still sitting with her coconut
watching me. After a while I took my
sister and her coconut up to the house, and then I returned, picked up the
third coconut and the knife and put them in the kitchen. I knew my dad would be
happy to have a coconut too, and since I didn't hurt myself, there would be no
scolding for me today, so I put the coconut and the knife on the kitchen table
for him and put the spoons in the dish pan to be washed.
That memory was part of my reality growing up on my
beautiful Montserrat, the Emerald Isle of the Caribbean islands. I was surrounded by coconut trees reaching
tall to the blue skies, the blazing sun, made tolerable by the trade winds with
their cooling breezes, and ever present turquoise waters of the Caribbean Sea
on one side of the island and the Atlantic Ocean on the other.
Take a listen to Harry Belafonte as he sings about the pleasures and benefits of the coconut, island style.
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