Our process starts with picking the pods from the tree. This is fun to watch as David bounces atop the rubbery boughs of the tree. He sends, his assistants, me and Leo, the pods and we catch (most) of them. Then we use our own preferred methods to open the red, orange and yellow, football shaped pods. I like to knock them on a sharp stone and David taps them three times with his cutlass like a magic wand and, voila, they open and expose creamy covered deep purple seeds. Next we scoop out the pulp and seeds which leaves our hands softened and smooth and collect them in a pail. We all can be seen sucking on a few seeds as we go along. The pulp is a special sweet yet tart taste, a sensation one wouldn’t relate to cocoa unless you have been a harvester.

The cupped pods are given back to the tree’s roots as fodder for the next generation and the seeds are spread out on a long sheet of metal in the greenhouse to dry and slightly ferment.
Once dried to the supervisor’s satisfaction it is fire time. David stirs the seeds in a big pot over the open flames until they have been well cooked and the outer shell cracks (similar to coffee). They are pealed, once again, of the last shell layer. We then take turns grinding the seeds through the hand mill, transforming them into powder. Next is packing the grains into form. This takes an intuitive amount of pressure between two hands (David and Jolo have an innate sense of perfection!) as you use the natural oils to bind it all into the shape of a log or a ball. They are ready to grate as unsweetened baker’s chocolate into cake recipes.

The way I make cocoa tea:

Boil 6 cups of water, grate into it a thick cocoa stick.
Add one big piece of cinnamon bark and a bay leaf
Simmer until all cocoa is melted and cinnamon and bay drawn
(a cured vanilla pod is also a decadent addition!)
Sweeten to taste
Add cow, goat, or coconut milk to desired creaminess

Sip, savor, and celebrate!

It is common to have a dry season but not this early and not for so long. It is perfect vacation weather but many locals are having to go further from home to source utility and drinking water. Anyone depending on rain water has certainly run out by now. Our cherished number of 365 rivers are slowly narrowing by the day. Luckily for the residents of this valley, River La Croix is still flowing its course as is our most dependable mountain spring.

We are always shifting our systems to accommodate the “extremes” in Dominica. The ram pump that was once washed down stream by intense rainfall has now been rebuilt. The rhythmic heartbeat of the pump chamber keeps our cisterns topped up so that our greenhouse can continue to stay green.

Considering we have solid two acres of tropical plants, the out of doors is left to fend for itself. Lucky for them, most of the ornamental flower roots are tuberous rhizomes with long term stores of hydration. The torch gingers (Etlingera elatior) are stalwarts of the surrounding landscape even under the lingering dusty fallout of Montserrat ash.

More good news about this year’s dry season is that is has brought on an early crop of mangoes, day after day of good hiking, quick dry laundry, and slow growing weeds. We have come to appreciate the heavy saturation of the real mountain dew. Most of all, this is Dominica, and when the sky turns blue you can find us…down by the river.

“In wildness is the preservation of the world.”
~ Henry David Thoreau

If a diverse ecosystem is a reflection of a healthy environment, then our valley must be maintaining a sense of balance within a developing world. It is often hard to exist within nature without getting overwhelmed by the compromises one must make in order to survive here. Our little corner of dwelling is so minute in comparison to the amount of bush that surrounds us. We are often reminded that we are the guests in this habitat.

Tete Chien, (Boa constrictor nebulosus)

This season we have been visited by many of our wildlife residents. We do not often see the local Tete Chien, (Boa constrictor nebulosus), but we know they live within the stony corners of the property as they cross our path about once a year.

Unfortunately, many of our visitors would like to see them but part of their survival technique is to not be seen. They are masters of the element of surprise, disguising themselves as slippery tree roots under the bush. This year was the exception however. After ten years of raising chickens without interruption, we had our first snake attack in the coup. The female had slithered her way through a small hole in the screen, ate two whole layer chickens and couldn’t get back out the door she came in. As much as we do not like to loose a chicken we still unde

rstand that this is part of the life~death~life cycle. To the absolute disbelief of our less compassionate neighbors, we shooed the snake back into the bush with a broom stick. The powerful muscle of the reptile grabbed hold of the stick and shook it back at Ron with enough force to leave a mark on his arm. Up to now we have not seen her again.

Another favorite resident not often seen is our beloved Iggy, the Lesser Antillean Iguana (Iguana delicatissima).

Lesser Antillean Iguana (Iguana delicatissima)

We first spotted Iggy about three years ago on the sidewalk behind the kitchen. We had never seen him before but he (or she?) had already grown to a mature size in our backyard. Being a chartreuse creature in a melee of forest green, we consider seeing Iggy as a sighting. His next appearance was just before a storm, as he surveyed the gray swirling sky while swaying atop a papaya branch. It was a long time after that we saw him again and we had feared that the storm drove him coastal. But alas, more drama, his next appearance was eye to eye with our new kitten Robbie. It was a stand off and a stare down, both creatures in awe, that resulted in a mutua

l backing down. Again, we feared his time limited. Months passed until we saw him again but there were signs of his presence as carrot tops were eaten and potatoes rooted out. His last visit happened when a dry branch fell under his claw and exposed him within inches of the mangoes that dangled from his tree home. There is always something comforting in seeing Iggy, like a peaceful awareness that we can live so close and yet so deeply in our own worlds.

Gounouj (Eleutherodactalus martinicensis) frogs

Although we hear the “tink tink” of the Gounouj (Eleutherodactalus martinicensis) frogs, they typically do keep to moist and dark places. This extensive dry season we had though brought them right inside searching for watering holes. Our house frog, who has lived with us long enough now to warrant a name, has taken up residence in our overflow drain in our bathroom sink. She only peeks her head out at night and sometimes even has company. Despite the rambunctious water play that goes on with a three year old boy washing his hands, this little frog is still calling our sink her home.

Frangipani caterpillars (Pseudosphinx tetrio)

With the return of the rains comes the return of the foliage on many of our thirsty ornamental shrubs. In the afternoon drizzle, the monstrous Frangipani caterpillars (Pseudosphinx tetrio) are back and munching away the milky leaves of the Almanda flowers as fast then the greenery can unfold.

Seeing these neighbors busy in their natural routines resonates a reassurance that the wild life, as well as the human life, is still able to guide its wheel along the narrow course of a healthy life. Though this special Nature Island is but one corner of a very busy world, we take faith in the words of environmental journalist Michael Smith: “It’s now widely accepted that a biodiversity – rich place, when properly protected, will seed biodiversity elsewhere.”

The Waitukubuli National Trail (WNT) is becoming a reality for Dominica and blazing open more trails for the visitors (and residents!) of Crescent Moon Cabins. The WNT is a 115 mile trail that covers Dominica end to end while passing through such national ecological highlights as the Boiling Lake and the Emerald Pool. It will start sea level in a fishing village, pass through historical plantations, visit the Kalinago Carib Reserve, and catch breath taking views while traversing the tallest mountains. Crescent Moon is located between two sections of the trail, the first being our “back door” access to Middleham Falls and the second a forest trail opened up to Pond Casse.

During the quiet season we have had a chance to explore some of the new trails and admire the work done on our old favorites. Three weeks ago Ron and David passed on the beginning works of the Wotten Waven to Boiling Lake section. A steep incline brought them from Wotten Waven to Mourne Prosper where they could access a newly uncovered track to the Boiling Lake. Though the trail had only been recently surveyed and not yet carved into a trail, they forged past multiple waterfalls and popped out at the intersection of the Valley of Desolation. After years of hearing you could get to the Boiling Lake this way they finally saw it for themselves!

The next weekend Jean joined them as they set off to meet the new trail from our village of Sylvania to Pond Casse. A two hour walk through Mourn Trois Pitons rainforest crossed ravines and climbed ridges. With heavily constructed bridges and well placed ropes they were able to explore a previously unseen corner of the second tallest mountain in Dominica.

With the inclusion of our favorite neighborhood hike to Middleham Falls in the WNT, we are also impressed with the improvement of the old forest trail. The development and maintenance of the track will now make it a self-guided possibility from our place.

We are excited to pioneer other segments of the trail as they become open! We welcome this ecological and culturally sustainable project for Dominica. It is a fascinating way to preserve historical connections within the island and simultaneously develop new trails and perspectives for repeat visitors to the national parks.