Millenium Cave and normal life

The anchorage at Loltang Bay, Pentecost

A few weeks ago, I felt like I was done with cruising. It was hotter than hell, our usual breeze had deserted us, and swarms of flies had descended upon us. Tempers were short. My rope burns were still oozing and I had gotten a secondary skin infection that wouldn't go away. It was truly miserable.

Face 'paint' (mud) on the cave tour

A few days later, the flies flew away and the breeze came back. Life was good again. What a difference a day or two makes.

We have spent more time in Vanuatu than many other countries, but there are so many islands that we have sped through many of them. Even though we spend much more time in places than most tourists, we are still tourists. The other day on the Millenium Cave Tour, we met Cole and Caroline, a nice young couple working for the Peace Corps in Luganville. They have been in Vanuatu for almost two years and speak fluent Bislama. They were able to have real conversations with the Ni-Vans we met on the tour. They have enjoyed depth where we have just skimmed the surface. We're okay with that--it's just a different experience.

The cave tour itself was a lot of fun. We trekked through the forest, climbed up and down steep hills using handholds and ladders, scrambled over boulders, climbed and waded through huge cave, and floated down a stream through a steep canyon.  Along with the volcanoes, this adventure sent Vanuatu towards the top of the list of favorite places for Conrad.

We had spent a few days in Ratua and visited the blue hole at Malo. We returned to Luganville and were pleasantly surprised to find out that the package my parents sent from the States had arrived with the parts for our leaky freezer pump (Matt had put in our spare water pump temporarily). Matt was able to put the new seal in our freezer pump. It was still leaking when Matt put water into it, so he put some sealant on it, which seems to have done the trick.

 

The kids have been enjoying time with their friends on Field Trip and Rehua.

Happy Vanuatu

Mt. Marum's lava lake

Before we came to Vanuatu, a few people that had been here before would say something along the lines of, "They're very poor--they have nothing." From a Western perspective, that may be technically true. There is very little electricity or plumbing. Stores are few and far between. But from what we have seen, a typical village in Vanuatu seems to want for nothing that really matters.

Kids in Banam Bay, Malekula Island

The people are laid back and friendly. The houses are simple--bamboo and sometimes concrete block, wood or corrugated metal--but lovely. There are usually ornamental plants lining the litter-free paths. Most villagers have gardens that provide all the food they need. Growing, gathering, and preparing the food in underground 'ovens' is hard work--exhausting to even think about for someone with a stove, refrigeration, and flour I didn't have to grind by hand. But there is plenty of water and everything grows like crazy. There are even puppies, juvenile chickens, and baby pigs everywhere.

Bakery in Lamen Bay, Epi Island

The Ni-Vanuatu (as people from Vanuatu are called) seem to have it figured out and their place on the Happy Planet Index seems to agree. Of course, modern society can't be avoided. Many Ni-Vanuatu have phones and a lot of the men we have talked to have been to New Zealand or Australia to pick fruit to make money for things they can't make or grow.

Cacao beans drying in Banam Bay

It's not all rainbows and unicorns. You see signs here and there, like the one in a yard that warns kids not to stone birds with their slingshots. We met a man whose kava garden is three hours away to keep the local teens from stealing the precious crop. There is a judicial clerk in Loltong, the Administrative center on the island of Pentecost, who processes disputes among villagers. We have had a couple of chiefs complaining about people in their village giving tours and not paying a share to the village.

Lamen Bay turtle

With the number of cultures and languages in Vanuatu, it's amazing that everybody seems to get along as well as they do. It is not uncommon to find that what at first appears to be one village is actually four or more villages, each with a separate language and culture. People are very aware of race, unabashedly calling Caucasians 'white-skins' and not really comprehending that an Asian person could be from America. One man asked me yesterday whether it was okay for me to marry a white man. I think he meant from a cultural standpoint because my background is Korean, but I'm not sure.

Smol nambas dance in Banam Bay

Most of the dancers were later playing soccer

I was thinking that our boat hadn't needed a lot of repairs lately and I guess someone was listening. Our windlass gearbox started making an unpleasant grinding noise and Mark on Amelie IV suggested it might need oil.  Oil in the gearbox?  That was news to us. There didn't seem to be a place to add oil, but sure enough, located in an almost invisible--and almost equally unreachable--position there was a small cap that allowed us to add some oil.  (Turns out we're really supposed to remove the old oil too, but the instructions for that involved removing the whole windlass and turning it upside down to drain it.  Really? That's like having to remove a car engine and turning it upside down to drain its oil. In other words: not gonna happen.  After adding the oil, it ran much more smoothly but the chain kept jamming intermittently and eventually sheared off the pin (Woodruff key) that coupled the motor to the gearbox.  Matt contorted  himself into the anchor locker, replaced the pin and banged the chain stripper back into position (it had gotten a little out of whack when Matt was troubleshooting it). The bottom line is that it works now, we didn't have to spend $3000 on a new windlass (not to mention shipping and installing it), and Matt has recovered (mostly) from being stuffed into the anchor locker and covered with grease in the blazing heat (it took a lot of rum over ice).

We also broke a shackle on the main halyard from an accidental jibe in light wind, fixed an intermittently buzzing engine instrument alarm (again), and replaced the stop solenoid on the port engine (the one we had welded by the artist in Fiji). Of course, those were the repairs we had parts for.  The gooseneck on the boom needs a new washer/spacer and our freezer water pump valve has a slow leak. Not sure where we're going to find those.  Okay, the airing of grievances is over for now.

We're continuing to make our way north in the island chain. On Ambrym, we did a challenging day-long hike up to Mt. Marum to see one of the few lava lakes in the world with our friends on Amelie IV. Our friends on Field Trip put together an inspiring video documenting their hike to the volcano.

The boys with Phillip at the Volcano Gallery in Port Vila

Conrad drawing a bwathigo (sandroing bird)

with Edgar at the Vanuatu National Museum  

 

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.