TERNATE – mixed opinions

I remember Ternate from my first visit in the early-80s of last century—wow, that is 30 years ago. And an enjoyable working visit it was. Sitting in my hotel room one night, working on my notes, a sudden desire for pastis came over me. I went across the street where I had seen a general merchandise store and asked for a bottle of Pernod. The owner reached behind him and wiping the bottle, placed it on the counter. Only then did I realise that my request must have been out of the ordinary, and even more astonishing was that the bottle of Pernod was available. I shook my head in wonder and asked the owner why he stocked Pernod, I wouldn't expect much demand for the stuff in Ternate...!

- Yes, he said, you are the first one to ask for it for years. I had bought a box of six bottles about two years ago when a group of French marine biologists were staying in town for more than half a year. They drank five bottles and you now take the last one. Now no more!

Remarkable! And I am not even a regular Pernod drinker. Thinking back, I could have asked for Campari, which I drink about as often as Pernod. That last bottle must have called out to me! At the end of my stay I took it home where it lasted another year.

During that same trip I did something that I now hardly dare to admit! Remember, this is the 1980s and environmental awakening was only starting. In restaurant Garuda (I think it was called) I helped to reduce the population of the local coconut crab by one. The taste is indescribable, a super lobster maybe. And the best part is that, unlike regular crabs, there is no hard work to get the tiny bits of meat out. This crab is full of easily accessible meat. I would have eaten two if there had been more, but we finished the daily, or maybe weekly, supply. Then already one had to order in advance, or be lucky, to get them.

Two coconut crabs

Coconut crabs are solitary and thus nearly impossible to breed in commercial quantities. And they have no chance to survive in areas where humans have developed a taste for them. Even in those days they must have been from islands other than Ternate, and nowadays they are most likely as rare as the dodo.

For the protection of the remaining few—wherever they may be—I here reproduce the illustration made by Georgius Everhardus Rumphius for his Ambonese Curiosity Cabinet (1705). Not one of his clearest drawings, but to put potential consumers off the coconut crab, it couldn't be better. Disgusting, isn't it!

A friend of mine recently visited Ternate. To my question whether he had been able to locate restaurant Garuda he answered with a short no, but also stated that he had been so disappointed with the hotel where he was staying that he had cut his trip short and thus had not really had time to look for the restaurant. He apparently had stayed in the best hostelry in town and had been glad to get a flight out the next day. The staff were uninterested and incapable (my friend's Indonesian is not too strong, so that might help to explain the problem), the sheets were full of kretek burn holes and quite grey, and when he flushed the toilet the contents of the septic tank floated on the bathroom floor. He managed to get another room, but it was not the de lux type he had ordered.

He vowed never to go back and would advise anybody who asked not to go there..

An unfortunate upset for the tourist promotion efforts of the island, but good news for the coconut crabs.... if there are any left.

Reference:
GE Rumphius, The Ambonese Curiosity Cabinet, 1705