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katherine_b at 01:32pm on 16/01/2007
katherine_b at 01:32pm on 16/01/2007Chapter Five – The Second Reward
Tribes
Cakobau
Annabelle-Marie
Andrea
Hayden
Jarod
Mike
Peter
Rachael
Tiffany
Naulivou
Bob
Candy
Chris
Louise
Meredith
Michael
Richard
Sarah
Sydney rose to close the front door, which Broots had left open, and sat down just in time to see the commercials end. The camera showed a rather rough-and-ready structure at Cakobau, but one that at least looked hardy enough to stand up to the storm clouds that a brief shot showed were massing on the horizon. The members of the tribe were carrying the cooking utensils they had won, along with the bedding that had been in their temporary shelter and their few personal belongings, into the new hut. Mike and Hayden were building a new fire pit in front of the old shelter so that people cooking wouldn’t get wet.
“Hey, you know what we should try,” suggested Peter as he came up. “Making a table and chairs and stuff, like they did in Palau.”
“Remember the Koror tribe in Palau had a team from Home Depot building that for them after they won the challenge,” Andrea reminded them as she came up to sit beside the fire. “They had proper tools and all that. We don’t have those.”
“Well, we could still try,” said Mike. “Might as well. It won’t take a lot of work and we can do it on days when we don’t have challenges.”
The next shot showed Jarod in confessional and a glare from Miss Parker at the two men who were chatting about the program brought instant silence. On the screen, Jarod chuckled.
“I know Peter’s been taking responsibility for my ideas,” he confided. “I mentioned the fact of how much easier things would be if we had a proper table and chairs, and the next thing I know, Andrea comes rushing up to say that Peter’s had this brilliant idea and we’re going to make furniture for our camp. If he takes responsibility for something as basic as this, it’ll be pretty easy for him to believe he’s orchestrating the whole tribe. He’s a nice guy, but you can’t let emotions get in the way of this game and when it’s time for him to go, I’ll have no issues voting him out.”
“Wow,” Broots remarked, pausing TiVo. “I didn’t think Jarod would ever be so cutthroat.”
Sydney smiled, unable to completely suppress his complacency, and indicated the screen. “But that is not Jarod, or not the person we have been pursuing for five years, Broots. This is Jarod the Survivor contestant. He is quite a different person. He will do whatever it takes.”
“Quit boasting, Syd,” Miss Parker snapped. “It’s not flattering.”
Broots started the show again and they settled down to watch the tribes arriving at the challenge. They had rowed to a large clearing in which stood two traditional Fiji huts. The members of Cakobau were seen to exchange glances as Jeff waved them over, a dark-skinned Fijian standing on either side of the host.
“Over here, guys!”
The tribes took their spots on their tribe mats and returned Jeff’s greetings. It could be seen that Richard had his arm in a sling made from his shirt, and the host was quick to call him on it.
“It happened last night,” the Army sergeant admitted. Our shelter took some hits in the storm and then part of it hit me. It’ll be okay though,” he added quickly, with an obviously concerned glance in the direction of Cakobau.
“And how’s your shelter?” asked Jeff.
There was a frisson of laughter through Naulivou. “Not there anymore,” remarked Bob with a grin. “It up and left us.”
At this point, the camera showed Cakobau, and it had to be confessed that the entire tribe was smirking. Jeff noticed.
“So, Annabelle-Marie,” he said, unerringly picking on the person most likely to give him an honest answer, “do I take it you guys survived the night?”
“Oh, yeah,” she giggled. “We have a great shelter!”
Jarod and Mike were shown exchanging glances, and the relief on Peter’s face when she said no more was obvious. Instead, Jeff began the challenge, inviting the tribes to come up and look at the huts. Out of earshot of their opposition, Cakobau spent their time comparing the hut to the shelter they had made.
“So that’s how they do the ceiling,” said Mike. “Figures. We couldn’t have done it, though, not without help.”
“And tools,” added Jarod.
“So why are we here?” demanded Annabelle-Marie, but before anyone could respond, Jeff called the tribes back to their mats.
“Your challenge is to build a genuine Bure. You will have one of these men for help in the planning,” he indicated the natives on either side, “and tools to help you. We will judge your efforts this afternoon. Want to know what the prize for the best Bure is?”
There was a chorus of agreement in response to this, particularly from the Cakobau tribe, who looked thrilled. Jeff pulled a cord that hung nearby to reveal a huge tank and a basket of toiletries.
“Your tribe will have a fifty-five gallon tank filled with fresh water, so you won’t have to boil it, and the things you need to stay clean over the next thirty days.” Jeff waited for the exclamations of excitement to die down before saying, “You have five hours, starting from now!”
The natives walked over to the two tribes and then the groups raced for their canoes. The next shot showed Cakobau arriving back at their camp and they proudly led their guest to the hut that stood in the middle of the clearing. He stared at it for a moment before walking around it and then going inside.
“The roof is not correct,” he told them. Six members of the tribe immediately looked disappointed at the lack of praise, but Jarod cheerfully came forward.
“We weren’t sure how to manage it,” he told the man, with a grin. “Can you advise us?”
The Fijian grinned, showing white teeth. “Absolutely,” he agreed.
“Jeez, what a let-down,” murmured Rachael to the others. “He could at least say he liked it.”
“No, he couldn’t,” Jarod, who had come up in time to hear this, said quietly. “If Fijians praise something too highly, the owner is obliged to offer it to them as a gift.”
“Bit tough to give him the whole Bure,” said Mike with a grin, cheering up at once, as did the other Cakobauans. They came up to where the man was beginning to remove the leaves from the room. Half of the tribe emptied their belongings from the house while the others cleared the roof and removed the poles that supported their attempts.
“Now,” said the Fijian, producing a bag of tools that had been hidden away behind a tree once the tribe left, “we will make the roof.” He grinned at them. “And then we will fish.”
There was a murmur of excitement and then the tribe settled down to work on the roof. The guest expressed cautious approval of the way the hut had been built and showed the group how to construct a proper roof that would both keep out the rain and not be blown away in high winds.
The camera switched to the Naulivou tribe, showing the group digging holes for the supporting posts and preparing the sides of the hut. In a confessional, Bob expressed his irritation with Candy, who he saw as interfering with what he called ‘men’s work’.
“There’s always one,” said Michael, in a confessional shown a little later. “One man who thinks that only men can do the heavy lifting and women should be grateful to be allowed to help at all. He’d be smart to keep his mouth shut. He’s pissed off most of the women on the tribe, and Richard and I are in favor of keeping them, so Bob’s drawing a nice big target on his back for the next time we got to Tribal Council.”
“Is that true?” Miss Parker demanded of Broots, who had effectively gagged himself with a mouthful of Snickers bar, but the technician nodded vigorously.
“Survivor has always had a sexist element, Miss Parker,” explained Sam. “The men have often tried to control the tribes, and early on in the game, when strength is most important, they’re more likely to be safe and the women are voted off unless they can prove themselves to be strong and important enough, or if they can build a strong alliance. Later, though, after the merge, the really strong men are among the first to go. The only time a really strong man has won Survivor was Palau, two series ago, when Tom won it all, but he was really lucky. The winners have been divided pretty equally, almost always alternating men and women.”
In the end, it was actually Naulivou who won the challenge, mostly because they had decorated the hut while the members of Cakobau were away fishing. They celebrated the toiletries and the water, enjoying a shower each from the large tank and getting completely clean.
“Idiots,” snorted Broots. “What a waste, when water is so much trouble to get and boil. They should have kept it for drinking, like they did in Palau. They’ll regret it later.”
“And they won’t be clean for long,” Sam grinned. “Not in this game.”
Tribes
Cakobau
Annabelle-Marie
Andrea
Hayden
Jarod
Mike
Peter
Rachael
Naulivou
Bob
Candy
Chris
Louise
Michael
Richard
Sarah
Sydney rose to close the front door, which Broots had left open, and sat down just in time to see the commercials end. The camera showed a rather rough-and-ready structure at Cakobau, but one that at least looked hardy enough to stand up to the storm clouds that a brief shot showed were massing on the horizon. The members of the tribe were carrying the cooking utensils they had won, along with the bedding that had been in their temporary shelter and their few personal belongings, into the new hut. Mike and Hayden were building a new fire pit in front of the old shelter so that people cooking wouldn’t get wet.
“Hey, you know what we should try,” suggested Peter as he came up. “Making a table and chairs and stuff, like they did in Palau.”
“Remember the Koror tribe in Palau had a team from Home Depot building that for them after they won the challenge,” Andrea reminded them as she came up to sit beside the fire. “They had proper tools and all that. We don’t have those.”
“Well, we could still try,” said Mike. “Might as well. It won’t take a lot of work and we can do it on days when we don’t have challenges.”
The next shot showed Jarod in confessional and a glare from Miss Parker at the two men who were chatting about the program brought instant silence. On the screen, Jarod chuckled.
“I know Peter’s been taking responsibility for my ideas,” he confided. “I mentioned the fact of how much easier things would be if we had a proper table and chairs, and the next thing I know, Andrea comes rushing up to say that Peter’s had this brilliant idea and we’re going to make furniture for our camp. If he takes responsibility for something as basic as this, it’ll be pretty easy for him to believe he’s orchestrating the whole tribe. He’s a nice guy, but you can’t let emotions get in the way of this game and when it’s time for him to go, I’ll have no issues voting him out.”
“Wow,” Broots remarked, pausing TiVo. “I didn’t think Jarod would ever be so cutthroat.”
Sydney smiled, unable to completely suppress his complacency, and indicated the screen. “But that is not Jarod, or not the person we have been pursuing for five years, Broots. This is Jarod the Survivor contestant. He is quite a different person. He will do whatever it takes.”
“Quit boasting, Syd,” Miss Parker snapped. “It’s not flattering.”
Broots started the show again and they settled down to watch the tribes arriving at the challenge. They had rowed to a large clearing in which stood two traditional Fiji huts. The members of Cakobau were seen to exchange glances as Jeff waved them over, a dark-skinned Fijian standing on either side of the host.
“Over here, guys!”
The tribes took their spots on their tribe mats and returned Jeff’s greetings. It could be seen that Richard had his arm in a sling made from his shirt, and the host was quick to call him on it.
“It happened last night,” the Army sergeant admitted. Our shelter took some hits in the storm and then part of it hit me. It’ll be okay though,” he added quickly, with an obviously concerned glance in the direction of Cakobau.
“And how’s your shelter?” asked Jeff.
There was a frisson of laughter through Naulivou. “Not there anymore,” remarked Bob with a grin. “It up and left us.”
At this point, the camera showed Cakobau, and it had to be confessed that the entire tribe was smirking. Jeff noticed.
“So, Annabelle-Marie,” he said, unerringly picking on the person most likely to give him an honest answer, “do I take it you guys survived the night?”
“Oh, yeah,” she giggled. “We have a great shelter!”
Jarod and Mike were shown exchanging glances, and the relief on Peter’s face when she said no more was obvious. Instead, Jeff began the challenge, inviting the tribes to come up and look at the huts. Out of earshot of their opposition, Cakobau spent their time comparing the hut to the shelter they had made.
“So that’s how they do the ceiling,” said Mike. “Figures. We couldn’t have done it, though, not without help.”
“And tools,” added Jarod.
“So why are we here?” demanded Annabelle-Marie, but before anyone could respond, Jeff called the tribes back to their mats.
“Your challenge is to build a genuine Bure. You will have one of these men for help in the planning,” he indicated the natives on either side, “and tools to help you. We will judge your efforts this afternoon. Want to know what the prize for the best Bure is?”
There was a chorus of agreement in response to this, particularly from the Cakobau tribe, who looked thrilled. Jeff pulled a cord that hung nearby to reveal a huge tank and a basket of toiletries.
“Your tribe will have a fifty-five gallon tank filled with fresh water, so you won’t have to boil it, and the things you need to stay clean over the next thirty days.” Jeff waited for the exclamations of excitement to die down before saying, “You have five hours, starting from now!”
The natives walked over to the two tribes and then the groups raced for their canoes. The next shot showed Cakobau arriving back at their camp and they proudly led their guest to the hut that stood in the middle of the clearing. He stared at it for a moment before walking around it and then going inside.
“The roof is not correct,” he told them. Six members of the tribe immediately looked disappointed at the lack of praise, but Jarod cheerfully came forward.
“We weren’t sure how to manage it,” he told the man, with a grin. “Can you advise us?”
The Fijian grinned, showing white teeth. “Absolutely,” he agreed.
“Jeez, what a let-down,” murmured Rachael to the others. “He could at least say he liked it.”
“No, he couldn’t,” Jarod, who had come up in time to hear this, said quietly. “If Fijians praise something too highly, the owner is obliged to offer it to them as a gift.”
“Bit tough to give him the whole Bure,” said Mike with a grin, cheering up at once, as did the other Cakobauans. They came up to where the man was beginning to remove the leaves from the room. Half of the tribe emptied their belongings from the house while the others cleared the roof and removed the poles that supported their attempts.
“Now,” said the Fijian, producing a bag of tools that had been hidden away behind a tree once the tribe left, “we will make the roof.” He grinned at them. “And then we will fish.”
There was a murmur of excitement and then the tribe settled down to work on the roof. The guest expressed cautious approval of the way the hut had been built and showed the group how to construct a proper roof that would both keep out the rain and not be blown away in high winds.
The camera switched to the Naulivou tribe, showing the group digging holes for the supporting posts and preparing the sides of the hut. In a confessional, Bob expressed his irritation with Candy, who he saw as interfering with what he called ‘men’s work’.
“There’s always one,” said Michael, in a confessional shown a little later. “One man who thinks that only men can do the heavy lifting and women should be grateful to be allowed to help at all. He’d be smart to keep his mouth shut. He’s pissed off most of the women on the tribe, and Richard and I are in favor of keeping them, so Bob’s drawing a nice big target on his back for the next time we got to Tribal Council.”
“Is that true?” Miss Parker demanded of Broots, who had effectively gagged himself with a mouthful of Snickers bar, but the technician nodded vigorously.
“Survivor has always had a sexist element, Miss Parker,” explained Sam. “The men have often tried to control the tribes, and early on in the game, when strength is most important, they’re more likely to be safe and the women are voted off unless they can prove themselves to be strong and important enough, or if they can build a strong alliance. Later, though, after the merge, the really strong men are among the first to go. The only time a really strong man has won Survivor was Palau, two series ago, when Tom won it all, but he was really lucky. The winners have been divided pretty equally, almost always alternating men and women.”
In the end, it was actually Naulivou who won the challenge, mostly because they had decorated the hut while the members of Cakobau were away fishing. They celebrated the toiletries and the water, enjoying a shower each from the large tank and getting completely clean.
“Idiots,” snorted Broots. “What a waste, when water is so much trouble to get and boil. They should have kept it for drinking, like they did in Palau. They’ll regret it later.”
“And they won’t be clean for long,” Sam grinned. “Not in this game.”
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