CLICK this link: https://www.oceansfive.net/vanuatu to see the active Volcano -
On to Vanuatu
We depart from Musket Cove, Fiji, on our way to Vanuatu, on Sunday, July 28th and arrive at Port Resolution, Tanna Island, Vanuatu, on Wednesday, July 31st at 1:30 am. The passage was surprisingly chilly - long-sleeved shirts and jackets necessary - especially during night watches. During the darkness of night, as we approach Tanna Island, an eerie orange glow is visible in the distance. We’ve heard about an active volcano near the anchorage, but this is a bit of a shocker - a no kidding really active volcano!
At first light, we awaken the following morning and climb up to the cockpit to take in our surroundings. A beautiful, largely uninhabited bay with a long stretch of dark, volcanic sand beach, a short distance from a smaller, white sand one. The densely wooded hillside in the direction of the volcano, drops down to the water. Intermittent, large plumes of steam arise from the trees in 5 or 6 different areas. In a couple areas, the steam rises out of the water, creating a bubbling of the water. Off gassing from the volcano? This place feels alive! The earth itself seems to be breathing. Fascinating, but a little unsettling. Maybe we shouldn’t spend too much time here?
In order to check into customs, we are called on the VHF a few boats at a time to the Port Resolution Nipikamanu Yacht Club. Here, the term “yacht club” is used loosely. A small, ragged shack built from wood and palm fronds with a few flags hanging from it and a covered area for sitting is the “club.” No dock, no power, no restaurant. However, the one item they do sell is Tusker, the local Vanuatu beer. Later, Rob and I walk into the village, which has a small school and a smattering of homes tucked in the woods. The homes are very modest - they’re made from local wood, bamboo and palm fronds. Some of the roofs are thatched and others are blue tarp. (Who invented this blue-toned tarp? It seems to be all over the world!!)The path opens into a large grass field. Two large cisterns with a water tap rest in the center. On the other side of the open area is a dirt soccer field with about 20 boys (under 10 years old) playing aggressively and skillfully. The ball is a tattered mess, but this doesn’t impede the intensity of the game. Rob is captivated watching them. I head over to join Helena, from Mastegot, who is playing with some young children, perhaps around 5 years-old and younger. Sweet, eager to engage, delightful kids. It’s hard to determine if they understand English, but it doesn’t seem to matter. We don’t see many adults present. The young children appear adept at caring for the even younger ones - a five year-old carrying and tending to a one year-old. They’re all quite dirty, and all are without shoes. Despite dirty legs, and the occasional little cuts and bruises, they are a joyful lot!
The following day, we are invited to tour the school. The buildings are basic, one being a UNICEF tent after a cyclone destroyed the prior structure. The principal informs us of the general education system of the school, as well as the needs. We bring our bags of donations, which we purchased in Tonga, but it’s apparent their needs are much greater than pens and pencils, etc. The principal hints the wish for a well to provide water is the greatest need at this point. A group of Oyster owners start investigating how we may be able to provide this for them. An impromptu soccer game begins with the boys and some of the men from the rally, beginning with Calvin and Sam, later joined by Tony, Rob (as goalie due to his bum Achilles) and some others. We notice the girls all sitting quietly together on the ground. They did not wish to join in the soccer match, responding very timidly to our questions, avoiding eye contact and ducking their faces behind the girls sitting in front of them. Cat(from Aurora) thought she’d seen a jump rope in our pile of donations in the office. We found a 14 foot jump rope! Perfect!
When we presented the rope to the girls, it was apparent they’d never jumped rope before. Without a single one of them willing to volunteer, we demonstrated how to jump rope - a person holding onto each end and one of us jumping. Still, none of them would come forward to give it a go. Gradually, we were able to get one of the girls to jump with me at the same time, facing each other so she could see how to time her jump. After her, another volunteered, then another. However, most of them watched, hiding behind the others, fearful we might make them try it. Carrie, the Oyster representative, had the brilliant idea of running through the swinging rope as she held hands with a number of the girls. This gave the shy ones the courage to try more. Eventually, all the girls were taking turns joyfully jumping with us. It was amazing to see the transformation in their faces and body language. From so timid, if they smiled they covered their mouths with their hands and tried to hide, to jumping with abandon, giggles and huge white smiles lighting up their faces! My favorite part was when two girls would jump, facing me as I swung the rope. We’d count to see how many they could jump before missing. They’d start jumping, serious expressions on their two faces, and as they jumped more, their smiles would gradually grow until their whole face was a smile of delight! Awesome! Eventually, we were able to hand over the jump rope to them and they continued playing on their own. I sat in the grass to watch, and about ten of them joined me for a chat. Some could speak English, but not others. I started asking them how to say words, such as how to ask their names, in their local language. As hard as I tried, I could not say it correctly, causing them to dissolve into giggles. What a delightful day! A gift.
Meanwhile, Rob and the guys/gals were having a blast working hard against the boys’ significant soccer abilities. All red faced, sweaty and dirty (adults and kids, alike), they all had a great time! We followed our time with the school children by a gift exchange with the moms at the yacht club. We’d packed up items from the boat - clothing, shoes, volleyball, broom, food, etc - but weren’t sure how this would be an exchange? The lovely women of the village had woven hats for every one of us from palm fronds, and adorned them with flowers. They placed these adorable hats on each of our heads and shook our hands. They also made fans and baskets, made of various materials, and filled them with vegetables and fruit they had grown. From the gifts we all brought, several women came forward and divided the items into piles for each family, while all the other women sat back at a distance and watched. Eventually, they came forward and collected our gifts. We tried visiting with them, but the language barrier made it a little awkward. Everyone appeared quite touched by this day and our time with this local tribe. We loved it!
Our adventure the following day consisted of a “tour” around the island in which we stop at a village market and then go on to visit one of the remote, primitive local tribes. Our mode of transportation was the open bed of a pick-up truck with wooden planks around the inner periphery for seating, and a tarp overhead for sun/rain protection. We had been warned to bring a pillow because the plank is hard and the bumps are frequent. Ten of us squeezed in the bed, knees touching, and two in the cab with the driver. Bumpy, rough 1 1/2 hour drive through rainforest to get to the market, where we stopped and had a questionable, semi-scary lunch. The Vanuatu islands are quite poor. A friend tells us the average income is $30/month. However, the market itself was quite beautiful, a lovely array of many colourful fruits and vegetables. We clamber back onto our planks and make our way to the next village.
How to describe this primitive little village? The people are the Yakel tribe and have become known through a documentary film made about them back in 2015, called Tanna. We are greeted by two, very friendly black men, our guides, scantily garbed in a cluster of hay-like grass covering their man parts in the front, held in place by a twine-like thong. All the males, no matter their age, wear this same get-up. The women and girls wear only a straw skirt. Occasionally, a woman will have a straw top, but this is the exception. The children are delighted to run along with us as we tour a small part of their village. Similar to the tribe at Port Resolution, the young children take care of the very young children. It’s impressive how attentive they are at such a young age to the younger children. The huts are very small, single-room, thatched roofs with woven palm frond walls. We’re told as children get older, another small hut is built next to the parents. This tribe consists of 185 people, comprising 5 families and LOTS of children. Any marriages are arranged outside of the tribe. Our guide brings us down a steep dirt path through the rainforest, down to a beautiful waterfall far below. The sure-footed children laughingly leap and run barefooted past us as we shuffle cautiously down this steep path. Obviously, they’ve done this many, many times. Nature creates the most fabulous playground!
After our slow descent down the path, we watch the kids splashing and playing in the picturesque pool at the base of the waterfall. It doesn’t take long for a number of Oyster adults to join them, including Rob. The children become comfortable splashing the adults until one of the tribal elders reprimands them and they stop immediately (I’m pretty sure the Oyster adults started it, possibly Rob). We watch the native kids climb a steep path up into the rainforest, then hold onto a vine to slide down a vertical wall. Once they slip down to a big rock, they jump out with abandon, soaring into the open air to drop, then splash into the pool below. Watching these people, you feel like they’ve played this very same way for centuries.
Our guide explains his family has been living in this tribe, in this manner, for 5 generations. Next, we ascend the hill and are escorted to their village center. This open area, framed by several huge banyan trees, as well as a thatch building, is enchanting. They’ve laid out crafts for us to purchase, some jewelry made from seeds, woven baskets, rough musical instruments, as well as wood-carved pieces. I can’t resist a cute, crudely carved little wooden pig (mama and baby pigs run willy-nilly around the market area), some seed bracelets and Rob discovers a flute.
Our time with the tribe concludes with some of their traditional dances. First, the men and boys of all ages (one little guy is less than two years old) chant, clap and stomp in a circle to various rhythmic songs. The women stand around the outside of the circle and jump up and down in place to the beat of the stomping. It’s clear they perform this ritual often. Perhaps daily? For even the smallest child could stomp and clap in rhythm with the men. I notice the women around the camp have quite serious expressions on their faces. This life can’t be easy. I hope their culture dictates a lifestyle in which women are treated with respect. At the conclusion of the song, the women skip around the periphery of the circle in the same direction as the men have begun to walk. On the last song, some of the children come over to us to take our hands and have us join them in the dance. Geez! It’s been a long time since I’ve jumped up and down that much. I’m glad we didn’t have to wear their outfits!
Our next endeavour the following afternoon included driving (another bumpy truck ride, similar to the day before) to Mt Yasur to see the volcano we’d been watching bellow smoke (or steam?) since we arrived at Port Resolution. We were again accompanied by the delightful residents of Rock Lobster, along with Carrie and Raul from Oyster. I, for one, was a bit uneasy with the notion of looking into a sputtering, Alert Level 2, volcano(which means moderate to heightened volcanic unrest). Mt Yasur is known to be the most accessible active volcano in the world. However, I’d been worn down by everyone who went to see it, whom, without exception, said it’s a must-see. So, here I am bouncing around in this make-shift taxi. We stop at the visitors center for the volcano and meet our guide. He speaks so softly, we hardly hear anything he says. We do pick up that he says safety is their number one concern and something to the effect that if the volcano erupts, we shouldn’t run. Reassuring. Back in the truck for another very bumpy, rocky, slow trip up to the base for the trail up to the volcano. By the time we reach the trailhead, the weather has turned for the worse with high winds and pelting rains. We trudge up the long, staired incline to the rim of the volcano as winds and rain increase and the temperature drops. Gigantic, swirling plumes of steam arise out of the large crater and are blown by the wind in a circular pattern along the large rim. In the daylight, the glow and small spouts of magma are visible far below. A rickety, horizontal 2”x 4” “fence” is the only structure separating us from the sweltering abyss. Oh, so safe. The wind behind us is forcefully strong. Periodically, it pushes me to take a step forward, toward the rim, followed by a cursory step back. After about 45 minutes of these miserable conditions, teeth chattering, soaking wet, Anne, Nick, Rob and I decide to walk back down to the shelter of the truck. The others remain, resiliently waiting for nightfall, when the volcano is at its most dramatic. We huddle together in the back of the pick-up, trying to warm up. Once night falls, Rob decides to head back up to the rim. We wimp out and stay in the truck, eyeing the glow of the volcano, thinking we really should go back up and see it at night. A resounding, “Naaah” and we the three of us snuggled back together and chatted. Of course, in hindsight after looking at the others videos, we should have sucked it up and climbed back up. Day or night, it was a miraculous experience. Magma - the beating heart and blood of the earth. I’m quite sure we’ll never see it this close again.
Again, here is the link to see the video of the Volcano! Click this link: https://www.oceansfive.net/vanuatu
We returned to Jolie late. I’d made soup earlier in the day, which was perfect after freezing, wet conditions at the volcano. We’d been given 12 chayotes from the exchange with the local tribe. It actually made a wonderful puréed soup, with the help of toppings like bacon (Yum!) and cheese. I’m sure Ellie appreciated a break from the galley.
After five nights in Port Resolution, we reluctantly depart to Port Vila where we’ll be clearing out to depart Vanuatu. Gorgeous downwind sail past the smoking volcano, noting even more steaming vents on the other side of the hill from our anchorage. Mt Yasur hasn’t erupted since January 2016, but one has the feeling, this steaming, roiling pot could blow at any time! The remainder of the overnight sail proved to be quite cold and rolly, causing sleep to be elusive.
Port Vila is a larger town, so we prepped for our approximately 7 day passage to Australia. Boat prep and minimal provisioning, knowing Australia is very strict and will confiscate all fresh fruit/veggies, meats (even frozen) not from Australia or New Zealand, rice, dried beans, dairy, etc. The following day we cleared customs along with all the other Oysters at the Waterfront Cafe. Oddly enough, they took our photos and fingerprints. No customs office has done this the entire trip. Why did they do it as we exit the country and not as we entered? Seems odd. Due to the weather predictions, we make a late in the day decision to depart that evening at 10 pm, along with Altaia. We’re a little apprehensive about this crossing. A few of the vessels have run into rough, unpredicted weather. The sense on board Jolie is more somber than in the previous passages….
Comments