Perry Versus The Volcano

We had heard so much about getting an up-close--and seemingly dangerously close--view of lava spewing out of Mt. Yasur that it seemed impossible that the experience could live up to the hype. It matched the hype and then some. In fact, our evening at the volcano on Tanna has surmounted our list of most memorable experiences so far in almost four years aboard.

                                                                                               

In the past, the volcano was basically unregulated.  Hire a guy with a pickup to drop you at the base, and you walked up to the rim, free to do whatever you wanted.  New this year was a concessions company that charged a somewhat hefty admissions fee ($100 US per person--lots of money in the islands).  The increased price for access to the volcano comes with guides, a visitor area, safety briefing, and a kastom (custom) dance performed by the local village. Matt quipped that the slick logos on the new white 4x4s and uniforms on all the guides resembled those worn by the employees in Jurassic Park and we all know how that ended.

The tour was scheduled to arrive at the volcano an hour or so before sunset so that we could see it in daylight and after dark. After a bumpy truck ride up a road whose sides were venting stream and gas, we arrived at the base of the summit cone and were unloaded into a barren landscape of grey rock and ash. As we climbed the short hill up to the crater, we could hear and feel the rumbling. Our jaws dropped when we saw the first eruption of molten lava being blown out of the craters and we felt the heat cut through the cold wind. We were able to walk up to a point where we could look almost directly down into the crater (no guard rails anywhere, naturally). One vent seemed to specialize in huge belches of magma that would throw lava hundreds of feet into the air, some landing just below us with a resounding "thud." The other vent would periodically let loose explosions of gas and towering ash plumes accompanied by a deafening roar that made you think, "What AM I doing here?" As impressive as it was during daylight, the spectacle only got better as the sun went down.  After nightfall, the glowing splashes of molten rock sprayed into the best natural fireworks show we have seen.

As we watched this, we discussed with some of the other folks how scary it all was, but comforted ourselves with the thought that it must just seem that way, and that we wouldn't be allowed here if there was any real danger.  Just then, we witnessed one Volkswagen-sized chunk of magma fly overhead, well past the viewing area, making it very clear that our observation point was in the line of fire. This was enough to spook Conrad, who decided he wanted to go back down to the lower area. Throughout the evening, the kids and I would venture up the hill and then back down again. I got Conrad to go up to the higher viewing area one additional time, telling him not to worry, but he refused to go more than twice. It turns out he was probably the smart one.

After several hours of watching the show, we were at the lower observation point getting ready leave while a few folks were still up at the higher point.  A particularly large eruption happened and we turned to see an armchair-sized chunk of lava land squarely on the trail connecting the 2 viewing areas. When Matt went up to inspect the still-glowing lava, he noticed that it had landed right next to the spot where his camera bag had been laying--and we had been standing--just minutes before. Even though the chunks of lava had the trajectory and speed of an easy fly ball, which should have made them avoidable, the consequences of an error in judgment were quite different and it would have be easy for someone to panic. We certainly felt lucky that night.

Feeding the pigs in Anelghowhat on Aneityum

 

 

 

 

Freshwater pools carved into the rocks

 

 

 

Mystery Island (on a non-cruise ship day)

For the most part, we are enjoying the sailing in Vanuatu. The sail to Tanna from Aneityum was a nice fast run. We ran the spinnaker the whole way and made good time to Tanna. Unfortunately, I let the spinnaker sheet get away from me a bit and got some nasty second-degree rope burns on my hands. Knock on wood, it is the most serious sailing injury we have experienced. Next time I will make sure to put an extra wrap around the winch when the winds are up. We also lost yet another gaff on a big mahi-mahi (at least this time we managed to keep the fish).

David in front of a giant banyan tree at Dillons Bay, Erromango

 

Our sail to Erromango was also a fast, if not bumpy, wing-on-wing sail with the whisker pole. We clocked 15.5 knots surfing down one wave. Some of the gusts as we came around the point of Erro were some of the highest we have ever sailed through. We are enjoying Dillons Bay, where the last act of Vanuatuan cannibalism of a 'white-skin' occurred (they ate the unlucky missionary because they wanted to know what white meat tasted like--really) for a day or so before moving on to Port Vila.

Cave of Skulls

 

Rethinking chili as a passage dinner (Fiji to Vanuatu)

Mystery Island, pre-cruise ship

As we were leaving Fiji to head to Vanuatu, we overheard a conversation on the VHF radio between an approaching freighter and the Port Authority about a possible tsunami warning. We had cell phone service just long enough to find out that a 7.2 magnitude earthquake had hit just south of Vanuatu (the direction we were heading). We were right at the pass out of the lagoon, heading towards the ocean, which would have been a bad spot to be if a tsunami had come.

Obligatory no-pants fish picture...

Out in the open ocean, we would most likely float right over a tsunami wave without even noticing it. Similarly, a lagoon like the one we were leaving offers some protection to boats anchored well within it. As for us, we were smack in the middle of a channel with open ocean in front of us, but a rapidly shallowing bottom under the boat and reef or land on either sides. A tsunami in that spot would have been the proverbial irresistible force meeting the immovable object.

Catherine from The Southern Cross and Mark reading
the Memorial plaque in Anelghowhat

We called our friends on The Southern Cross, a few miles behind us, to make sure they knew about the situation and then decided to keep going. At 6.5 knots of motoring, we had no chance of outrunning a tsunami, and we were just as close to safety in front of us as behind. We never saw a tsunami wave (the warning was cancelled) but Perry got a good knocking around anyway, from the confused seas on top of a ten-foot swell combined with higher-than-forecasted 30 knot winds. We took a bow wave that washed into the cockpit, which has only happened once before. On the plus side, we were making good time, averaging 9 knots.



Produce for sale in Anelghowhat

The conditions remained rough for the rest of the day.  Fortunately, before we left, we pre-made chili to have for dinner underway. Unfortunately, Conrad upchucked said chili 30 minutes after eating it and didn't make it out of the main cabin (think floorboards with gaps around the edges, filled with chili remains). This was the second time Conrad couldn't keep chili down on a passage, so we should probably rethink it as a go-to meal for awhile, despite his request for more of it the next day.

This huge canoe was built to prove a point in the dispute with
New Caledonia over two nearby islands. It was never used when
the Vanuatan government decided not to press the point with France

Eventually, the wind backed around and calmed a bit. Conditions mellowed and we even caught two yellow-fin tuna. The remaining two days were pleasant, and even relatively fast. Three days after leaving Fiji, the high hills of the Vanuatan island of Aneityum greeted us and even provided a much-needed rainfall to rinse the salt from our decks.

A plane about to take off from Mystery Island. We got blasted
when the plane turned around and throttled up.

We have been resting and enjoying the sights. And doing a bit of floorboard removal and deep cleansing as well (otherwise known as Operation De-Chilify).  The people in the main village of Anelghowhat are friendly and welcoming, though in general more reserved than the native Fijians. We met some of the friends that Field Trip made during their visit here earlier this year and scored some pamplemousse, which we haven't seen since French Polynesia. 

Much of the village income comes from visiting large cruise ships. One of them is scheduled to arrive/invade this Sunday.  We are interested to see what happens to the sleepy, adjacent Mystery Island when the ship disgorges 3000 Australian "marshmallows" (a term used by a fellow cruiser to describe the cruise ship tourists: soft, plump, white and easily burned) onto its tiny shores. 

A beach goes all the way around Mystery Island

 

Lazy days in Port Denarau and Musket Cove

Conrad at Big Bula Water Park. Photo
courtesy of Marie-Claude Osterrath

Blog-writing on Perry is one of the casualties of being back in civilization. After spending weeks without seeing any other cruisers (other than our friends on Amelie IV), Port Denarau and Nadi were a bit of a shock to our systems. There is always something to do.

Riding the Ferris wheel at the Bula Festival in Nadi

Port Denarau offers lots of convenience to cruisers, including $1 buses to Nadi, convenient propane refills, laundry, showers, and grocery stores carrying products we hadn't seen in Fiji yet. It is also the most expensive place we have visited in Fiji. That really only means that prices are about average for a big city in North America (if you factor in the conversion rate for U.S. dollars).

The finest technology.

Mark and Conrad got to ride a really long time because
there were so few takers. Hmm, should we be on this thing?

Fire dancing at Port Denarau

Candy floss, as they call it here, as big as Mark's head.
And Mark doesn't have a small head.

We picked up some packages with boat parts and replacement phones. After hearing horror stories from other cruisers about packages containing incorrect parts or being held up in customs, it was a pleasant surprise to have everything in order. It was also a great place to be for Conrad's birthday. We visited the Big Bula Water Park with our friends on Amelie IV.

Matthew, Meghan, Mark and Conrad at Big Bula Water Park.

Double digits and one to grow on

We have been in Musket Cove for a few days. They are very cruiser-friendly and the boys have been having a great time playing with all the kids at the beach and pools here. In addition to Meghan on Amelie, we caught up with our friends on Rehua. Despite the rain, there have been a lot of opportunities to socialize, including the Island Bar. You can see a fun video on Rehua's site showing the kids playing in the pool in the pouring rain. Conrad also tried scuba-diving for the first time and he can't wait to go again.

 

Cloud Break is one of the world's top surf spots. If the rain
ever stops, we might let the boys try a tamer spot.

Partial answer to the question of what do we eat? Homemade
buns (and fries, not pictures), New Zealand beef, and crispy cheese
 chips. Yes, those are beets--so Australian/Kiwi.

What's in the hole? Back in Vukavu.

Digging in the sand never gets old.



Conrad, Mark, Aeneas, and Tyrii with coconut boats. Photo
courtesy of Audrie Vueghs.

The boats are sea worthy! Photo courtesy
of Audrie Vueghs.

Musket Cove



 

We're preparing to head out to Vanuatu within the week, if the wind and weather hold out as predicted.

Kadavu (Fiji)

We have spent the last couple weeks in the Great Astrolabe Reef area, which didn't make the cut during last season's visit to Fiji. The land is much greener here than up north. There is no cyclone damage and plentiful water. The main island of Kadavu, owing to its moist, well draining soil, is the source of the best yaqona (kava) in Fiji. It's a major cash crop for the folks here and the well kempt villages reflect the added income it provides.  As with most of the traditional villages in Fiji, visitors (including boats) are required to present an offering of yaqona to the village chief in a ceremony called sevusevu. Ironically, the yaqona we are bringing to our recent sevusevus may have been grown in Kadavu, shipped and sold to merchants in bigger towns, bought by us, only to be sailed back and returned to villages in Kadavu. It seems like cutting out the middleman could help both the producers and the cruisers, but it's tradition.

We also have some mangy looking yaqona that we picked up in the Lau group. We haven't used it here in Kandavu as Matt made the point that bring it as a gift would be akin to visiting a First Growth chateaux in Bordeaux and presenting a gift of a boxed Chilean red wine.

After the month in the Lau helping out with Sea Mercy, it's nice to get back to 'normal cruising', which means basically having no set schedule, and enjoying beaches and remote areas. Cell phone reception is no longer a given and we haven't seen a store for weeks.

Boat school and Perry keep us busy, as usual. The other day, our port engine sputtered to a stop as we weaved our way around coral heads. Matt bled some air out of the Racor filters and the engine fired up again. Later investigation revealed that the Racor bowl had somehow deformed itself into a pentagonal shape (it's usually round), despite being nowhere near a heat source. Near as we can figure it must have been a bad production run of plastic that never fully hardened.

We have done some snorkeling, including swimming with some good sized manta rays. Unfortunately, the weather has been of the shiver-producing variety: cool, cloudy and windy. It's more comfortable for sleeping and sitting around, but not so much for swimming.

Meg at Women's Day on Ono

 

This sea snake wandered onto our transom.

 

Our new friend Va near Ucuna Naigoro

Perry and Amelie IV at the anchorage in Ucuna Naigoro

 

Bright Lights, Big City

Perry as seen from a bay near Avea in the Lau Group

Savasavu has a population of a little over 3,000 people. To put that number into (somewhat morbid) perspective, almost as many people have been shot this year in our hometown of Chicago (and some people think our lifestyle is dangerous!). But after five weeks in the remote islands of the Lau Group, Savusavu feels like a bustling metropolis to us.

Another shot of the same bay near Avea. Most of our days
in Savusavu have been rainy and much less scenic than this.

We got to Savusavu on June 30 and spent more in that one day than we did the entire preceding 29 days in the Lau. A comparison of May and June's numbers illustrates just how little money you can spend when you have almost no way to spend it.

A week in the 'big city' has provided ample opportunity to part with our cash, despite the very favorable exchange rate and the relatively inexpensive food. Besides buying lots of provisions (Fiji may be the last place we can stock up on many items for awhile), we have been fixing things that need fixing: sewing a separated stack pack seam, having the broken stop solenoid on our engine welded (so we can stop the engine with the button, rather than going down to the engine dungeon and sticking our fingers into areas with lots of moving parts), having a leaky high-pressure hose for our water maker re-crimped, replacing a leaky water filter, calibrating the secondary autopilot, and replacing the motor on an electric toilet (that would be the third and final electric toilet motor on the boat that we replaced after re-splashing). That last task was a beauty that required Matt to kneel on an injured knee and inadvertently place his face in some stray pee left behind the seat (I won't say by who but it is someone who stands up to pee). I thought it was funny; Matt, not so much.

Our iPhone 4, which Matt describes as older and more valued than our children (therapy is in their future), had something akin to a stroke and entered a vegetative state--still alive, but not performing any useful functions. Radical surgery (also known as opening the case and poking at wires and connections) failed, so we removed its feeding tube and it slowly withered to a 0% battery. As it was our primary method of accessing the internet in most countries, we needed to replace it. We are having a new one (meaning a new iPhone 4, because we already have a waterproof case for it and because 10 year old technology is super cheap on eBay!) as well as a castoff phone from my Uncle Gideon sent to us in Fiji by my parents. Some things are simpler when you're cruising but many others are not.

Matt also visited the doctor (the pricey private doctor- costing all of $10 USD) in Savasavu due to an infection in his knee that seems to have been triggered by all the kneeling he did while helping to build the rowboat in Boitaci. While we were still in the Lau, his knee ballooned to the size of a grapefruit, got really warm, and was agonizingly painful. We were able to get advice from Pete, our doctor friend, and my brother John, also a doctor, and chose a couple of antibiotics from the selection we carry on board. The doctor in Savusavu added a third antibiotic to the mix and the infection seems to have subsided. No need to amputate, which is somewhat disappointing to Mark on Amelie IV, who had his Sawzall ready. 

We're off to Kadavu and Astrolabe for a week or three and may not have internet for awhile.