Velella Cruising Log

Vanuatu:

Until 1980 when it gained its independence from France and England, Vanuatu was called New Hebrides. Garth visited the capital, Port Vila, briefly in 1974 during his circumnavigation and still calls it New Hebrides every once in a while. The country, an important staging area during World War II, is the setting for James Michener's Tales of the South Pacific. Up to 100 U.S. Navy ships and thousands of personnel were located in Luganville at one time. Relics from the war still are evident throughout the country and people we have met still talk about the war.

The country consists of 13 large and 70 smaller islands totaling less than 6,000 miles, nearly all formed by volcanoes, some as recently as 5 million years ago. Many of the volcanoes are still active and we can see smoke rising from several of the peaks. We can even hike to the crater's edge or see lava flows at night at two of the islands. Extensive rainforests and waterfalls cover much of the islands. The Ni-Vanuatu people traditionally lived in small communities remote from neighbors due to geography or local hostilities. As a result community customs and even physical appearance vary distinctly from island to island. The Ni-Vanuatu people still live in mostly small communities with limited outside contact, leaving much of the country's traditional culture intact. Old spiritual beliefs and customs still exist although the church, western influences and a common language have diminished their practice somewhat. Much of their experience of western culture comes through yachts in the remote areas. They are highly superstitious and westerners are discouraged from wearing sunglasses, hats and carrying bags on the shoulder in their presence (things we nearly always are doing).

The ni-Vanuatu people are Melanesians, believed to have originated in Indonesia and Papa New Guinea. They are dark with nappy hair and slight builds - much smaller than Polynesians. They are generally quite attractive often with nice smiles of bright straight teeth. The men sometimes have beards or mustaches and this is the first that we've seen of facial hair throughout the Pacific. When Europeans first arrived in the 1600's, the population was estimated at about 1 million people but was decimated by disease; recent figures estimate a population of 165,000 people. The sandalwood trade, black birding and missionary work brought many Europeans, although cannibalism was common until the late 1960's and many a European met his end here. Settlers from Britain and France beginning mostly in the 1850's created a system of joint rule and a duplication of nearly every government function and law. Remnants of both the French and English system are still evident throughout the country. Finally in 1980, England and France granted independence and a representative government was elected.

Few Kustom (traditional) villages have survived westernization, but several have. In these Kustom villages, men wear just a penis sheath and the women wear only grass skirts, leaving their breasts uncovered. Throughout most of the country, the locals are clothed in t-shirts and shorts, sometimes mere rags in the more remote areas. In the more prosperous areas, the ladies usually wear the Mother Hubbard style shapeless floral dresses introduced by the missionaries.

The people of Vanuatu are widely dispersed and as a result speak distinctly different languages. To bridge the language gap, a language called Bislama, a combination of pidgin English and French is commonly used. While many of the people we have met have learned proper English or French in school, Bislama is widely used throughout the country. Overhearing a Bislama conversation or reading notices written in Bislama can be very amusing; with a little effort sounding things out we can figure out the point of the message and marvel at the simplified spelling and roundabout way of saying things to work within a limited vocabulary. The language vastly simplifies complex language concepts like possessives, by using a simple word like "blong" (belong) to describe relationships, such as "nam blong yu emi wannem" (What is your name?). The words derived from want, belong and got from English are used widely as are French words save (from the verb to know) and finis (from the word fini, finish). Some examples: "Tank yu tumas" ("Thank you very much"); "Lukim yu afta, tata" (See you later); "Wan plen i fall down finis?" (Has the plane already landed?) or "Wan jif, yu save wannem ples i stap?" (means "I want to see the chief of the village. Do you know where he is?");. "solwata, i kam up?" (Is the tide coming in?), "hed blong em i no strait" (mentally ill). While many of the people we have met speak perfect English, we have also had several interactions in which we slowly realized that they only spoke Bislama and we had a bit of a language barrier. While we recognized the words they used, we sometimes discovered that we didn't really understand what they'd said, although often we could figure it out pretty quickly. A handy guide for getting around was: "Evri samting yu wannem save long Bislama but yu fraet tumas long askem" (Everything you ever wanted to know in Bislama but forgot to ask.) We found distances and time schedules can be challenging to pinpoint if we don't ask precisely what we need to know. And the Ni-Vanuatu are such polite sweet people that they dislike saying no or telling you what you don't want to hear so are prone to beating around the bush when they get into this situation.

Before we left Fiji, some fellow cruisers shared their thoughts on Vanuatu and suggested a well thought out itinerary from north to south. While we realized this suggested beating into the southeast trade winds, we thought they'd be short beats and we'd be able to take advantage of weather windows. The weather windows this season have been short to non-existent. Consequently we've had some pretty wet rough beats into 25 knots and 2-3 meter seas. (Boy do I regret not arguing more persuasively my preference for an extra day on passage to New Caledonia as opposed to regular slogs to windward all the way down the country!)

So we checked into the Banks group of islands in the north of the country and set about working our way south. In some ways we are really glad we started there first since it offered a more authentic glimpse of a pristine, pre-western Vanuatu. Few yachts venture this far north and little outside influence is evident here. The people are very shy and reserved, in marked contrast to the outgoing, boisterous style of the Fijians and Polynesians we've encountered so far. The Ni-Vanuatu are a quiet people. Often we were unaware that they were nearby unless we saw them; often standing or sitting quietly until we acknowledged them with a friendly wave. We always found them to be friendly with warm, sincere smiles and apparently content to let us go about our business or talk with us as we wished.

When we first arrived in Vanuatu, we had torrential downpours. (We have had quite a bit of unsettled weather and rain throughout the islands this season, which has put a bit of a damper on many of our outdoor activities and made for some sleepless nights.) The rain was so heavy that friends caught enough water (55 gallons in 24 hours) to fill both their tanks and ours on several occasions! Catching rain sure makes a rainy day more fun. Our first experience of the Ni-Vanuatu people was seeing a group of them quietly standing on the shore under umbrellas watching us as we came into shore to check into the country. The bank was closed on the day we checked in, so we were unable to exchange any money. Yet we proceeded to function perfectly well for the next 3 weeks without any Vatu (local currency) by trading with the locals. They have little use for money in this remote area anyway. What they really needed was supplies of all kinds since the copra trading boats were on strike and hadn't brought any supplies for some time.

We anchored inside of a volcano crater in a remote island called Ureparapara and were warmly welcomed by a number of dugout outrigger canoes of men and children. They quietly paddled nearby until we acknowledged them and only came alongside after we had talked with them a bit and encouraged them to do so. They were extremely polite and shy, yet very friendly. They were interested to trade with us, offering fresh supplies of fruit, vegetables and fresh water prawns. Many wore rags for clothes, and trading an epoxy stained old t-shirt or fish hooks for fresh water prawns was satisfying since everyone gained from the trade. They wanted soap, shampoo, shoes, line, fishing gear and staple foods as well. One young girl waited quietly beside the boat for some time, but was too shy to ask us if we needed eggs, until a young man with whom we had traded for freshwater prawns asked us on her behalf. The Ni-Vanuatu are avid gardeners, actively growing and harvesting nearly everything they eat, yet also planting shrubs and flowers to make an area attractive or mark property boundaries, particularly in the more remote areas. Yet their "vegetable" gardens were nearly indistinguishable from the surrounding jungle, although we've grown to recognize banana plants, papaya and mango trees, taro, manioc, kava, yams and other local produce. We've developed a taste for and skill at cracking coconuts for a refreshing drink and snack.

Since our home is a small boat with hull windows, we sometimes found it a little unnerving to awaken in the morning and find they were already outside waiting to talk with us! These locals were always polite and respectful though, and nearly always a delight to talk with. We felt a bit like we were in a fish bowl or living in a pup tent with the flaps open and were a little envious of the cruisers on 3 larger boats that could disappear inside their cocoon in total privacy when they got tired of entertaining. Yet, no one ever ventured out in the canoes except in daylight so we always knew when visiting hours would be. We had a little incentive to shift our schedule to be in tune with the sun.

We visited the school and were asked to help fix a leaky football and other items. We donated some school and medical supplies and were sent back to the boat with a load of pomplemousse (mmm!). Medical care and supplies are scarce. Malaria is a problem, although not terribly widespread currently. (We chose to take Larium as a prophylactic because friends generously shared their supply with us, but also were very careful to apply Deet bug spray, wear pants in the evening and limit our shore time after dark.) Tropical infection is a much larger problem and we saw some severe infections. We notice that while infection is much more likely to develop here in the tropics from even the smallest cut, Vanuatu infections have been notably virulent in comparison to what we've seen across the Pacific. We've encountered many cruisers taking antibiotics to treat stubborn infections that quickly turned into fevers and significant swelling and pain. We've been lucky so far, but are glad to have an extensive medical inventory in case.

As we toured the village with our local guides, we found everything to be extremely neat and tidy. The clearing of extraneous brush, added plantings around the houses and buildings and lack of plastic in the remote areas made the villages notably sparse, yet very attractive. The buildings and houses were made of carefully woven palm fronds with little clutter, demonstrating an eye to detail and an appreciation of nature. The style of structure, while using the same materials as those of the traditional Fijians and Polynesians, are completely different. The weave is more sophisticated, often using the weave to create an artistic geometrical pattern, and more structurally sound. The Ni-Vanuatu struck us as more industrious than the Fijians, particularly in the more remote locations we visited. In addition to fresh food, we were offered carvings, baskets, and flutes that they had created for trade to sustain their community.

We saw steam and smelled sulphur from an active volcano as we sailed by the north of the island of Vanua Lava. As we worked our way south, we were greeted warmly in each bay by canoes and often invited to sign a page in their visitor book. Most locals just wanted to chat and learn about where we were from and where we had been. A few were particularly keen on trading. We anchored in front of a beautiful double waterfall on the west side of Vanua Lava. In addition to heavenly swimming, we found it ideal for doing laundry and baking dry on the warm rocks in front of the waterfall. We thoroughly enjoyed a fresh water rinse after exploring the crystal clear waters and caves nearby. Caves, clear water and freshwater prawns also made this anchorage one of our favorites, although we found one local to be a bit demanding. (This attitude seems to develop when yachties just give the locals stuff: It teaches them that they can get something for nothing so why work hard. Often they need so much, yet we try to be careful not to inadvertently distort the local economy. Also, when we trade new durable type items for consumables such as a shirt that cost us $15-30 to buy in the U.S. for 2 pomplemousse, we are equating items of vastly different values.)

As we worked our way south, we visited one place with a pristine white sand beach and another with a black sand beach each bubbling fresh spring water, where locals sometimes washed their clothes at low tide. We found the water warmer than in Fiji and the visibility better, with some great snorkeling. White sand beneath the bay made one bay look shallow when in fact it was very deep, while the black sand bottom in another bay made the visibility look poor yet we could see our anchor on the bottom in 40 feet. We saw a turtle and a 6 foot long 2 inch diameter poisonous sea snake as we explored by dinghy.

Another anchorage featured a river winding through a mangrove jungle past a bat nesting area to a blue swimming hole. We enjoyed doing a little laundry and a long freshwater bath in this beautiful setting. At a fancy French resort nearby, we treated ourselves to a special meal of coconut crab and steak, which we thoroughly devoured.

From a nearby anchorage, we walked 2 hours into Luganville. Once a busy supply depot during World War II, Luganville is now a sleepy town filled with leftover Quonset huts - now even more unattractive after 50 odd years of minimal maintenance. On our walk we passed Million Dollar Point, where U.S. troops dumped a million dollars worth of military equipment that the local government refused to buy from the U.S. after the war, claiming we were probably going to have to leave it anyway. The beach looked like a junkyard full of rusty pieces of metal when the tide was out but apparently offers interesting snorkeling farther offshore. A more popular attraction is diving on the luxury liner 'The President Coolidge', which was converted into a troop carrier and then accidentally sunk by a friendly mine in the waters off of Luganville. Many relics of the ship like gas masks and rifles are still visible. After we checked in with customs and gathered fresh supplies, we treated ourselves to a cheap meal out at "Numba Wan" restaurant and a banana split and shake before trekking back to the boat, this time splurging by splitting a $5 taxi to spare our blistered feet. We seem to either get no exercise or a lot, depending on the weather and our current location.

We anchored off of another lovely waterfall on Maewo Island, where the locals are learning about doing business with the yachties and have set up a "yacht club", one of several that have sprung up to cater to yachtie's needs and bring supplies and income to remote villages. We saw an impressive traditional Kustom Dance followed by a tasty island dinner of grilled chicken and freshwater prawns along with rice plus yams covered with delicious gravy. (Traditionally local cooking, as throughout the Pacific, consists of bland starchy root vegetables and leafy greens topped with coconut milk and accompanied by meat on special occasions, but this meal was slightly westernized to appeal to their visitors.) The dances and the voices in this village are reputed to be among the best in Vanuatu and we thoroughly enjoyed them. The 8-10 all male dancers we saw wore woven mats subtly covering their midsections; Traditionally in the Kustom dances the men wear just a penis sheath (which hardly covers a thing) and the women wear only grass skirts, leaving their breasts to flop around as they dance. The dancers decorate their bodies with war paint and often don head dresses made of coconut husks, and surround their ankles with rattles made of nutshells. After having the opportunity to see more kustom dancing we heartily agreed that this was of a higher caliber, with more sophisticated choreography and more melodious music. After the dancing, we got the opportunity to sample Vanuatan kava which is much more potent than that of Fiji, since it is made from fresh rather than dried roots. The numbing of the throat, lips and tongue feels a little odd (almost like a shot of Chloraseptic), but wears off within a few minutes; Otherwise drinking kava feels almost like drinking alcohol. We finished the evening listening to a string band, playing melodious traditional songs and complemented nicely by strong voices. We later had the opportunity to hear another string band accompanied by the energetic voices of local children in Lamen Bay.

We stopped briefly at Pentecost Island, famous for its tradition of land diving, which sparked the bungy jumping craze, although the land jumping only occurs in April and May when the natural vines have the right elasticity. On Pentecost we met an older gentleman who was a boy during the war and vividly recalled the sudden appearance of hundreds of ships and airplanes. He described how he watched a Japanese submarine run aground; Americans then spotted the sub and bombed it until it broke into pieces. This same man told us how black birders had taken his grandfather to Queensland, Australia.

Next we stopped at Ambrym Island where there is an active volcano. We could see the smoke rising from the volcano as we sailed to the island. We found the people of this island to be more jaded and assertive as far as trading. This island is known for its woodcarvings, its volcano and its black magic so sees many yachts. Yet we still met many sweet people, including one lady that gave me a pumpkin after I had stopped to say hello while they were filling a burlap sack with copra for the next morning's copra trading ship. We arranged to hike to the top of the active glowing volcanic crater, but were informed the morning of our all day hike that the volcano was tabu for the rest of the season because yam planting season had begun. We learned that the island people believe strongly in black magic and fear that we might upset the spirits if we pass to the volcano during yam planting season; that would bring acid rain, killing the yam crop. We were later annoyed to learn that a large group of other yachties were taken up to the volcano only the following day. This discovery made us wonder whether the locals made an exception for economic reasons and what that might mean for their yam crop.

We stopped for a few days in a group of islands, called the Maskelynes, surrounded by a fringing reef. The people in the islands sailed and paddled their outrigger canoes throughout the flat water inside the lagoon. With a paddle for a rudder and a triangle of cloth, usually made of burlap copra bags, lashed between 2 branches, they had tremendous mobility and range. They inspired us to rig our dinghy for sailing, and we made a sprit rig using our 2 spare oars lashed together along with an awning pole, and a borrowed sun awning for a sail. We zoomed all around the lagoon, gaining impressive speeds from this oddly assorted rig. What a blast! Within the island group lie a few remote villages and the people are eager to trade. We traded a sample lipstick and soap for a mud crab, which made a deliciously flavorful dinner and we traded a t-shirt and a travel sewing kit, for several papaya and coconuts from which we made a tasty papaya salsa. Several other villagers came by, mostly to say hello. As ever, all were curious where we were from and what our names were, as well as how long we had been sailing to get to Vanuatu and whether we had children. We were told here, as we often were when we asked, that there were only a few families that lived in the nearby village, yet they comprised a population of several hundred people because they had so many children.

We noticed that the canoes were slightly different design in each island area throughout the country. The method of attaching the outrigger to the main hull of the canoe varied from propped sticks to tie lashings extracted from local plants or old line. Some canoes were completely dug out of a hardwood log while others were topped with boards for height to prevent swamping. We noticed that the designs in several islands were notably low in the bow and were continually taking on water. As the locals chatted with us, they bailed periodically and they often asked us if we had something they could use for a bailer. We suppose it largely depends on the size of the log they're carving from how much freeboard they end up with. In the more prosperous areas, some canoes were even painted in bright primary colors. We marveled at their agility in maneuvering and even small children were quite proficient with a paddle. Our visitors were always careful not to bang against our hull and usually only came alongside when invited. While in the Maskelynes, the locals used sticks and burlap bags to create sprit or traditional (Sunfish style) rigs to sail throughout the island group, in Lamen bay they propped palms fronds on the bow to return home on a downwind run at the end of the day. Most locals lived on an outlying island where they said the mosquitoes were less of a problem and where they could keep their gardens separate from where they rear pigs which tend to rout out their freshly planted vegetables.

Before sailing to the capital, Port Vila, the big city, we wanted to stop in one more place in a more remote area. We had read that in Lamen Bay on the island of Epi, we could swim with a tame dugong and were intrigued, although skeptical. Dugongs are odd looking large gray creatures, with a head resembling a walrus (minus the tusks) attached to the body of a large gray dolphin. Dugongs are most closely related to the Manatee, which are found in Florida, although these species have a tail fin in the shape of a whale's. The locals call them "cow fis" because they act like cows, grazing the better part of the day on tiny underwater seas grass, resurfacing periodically to breath. Surprisingly enough, the morning after our arrival, we indeed went swimming with a dugong that let us touch him and swim around him for hours. His skin felt a lot like the smooth yet bristly texture of unshaven legs after a couple of days. After using up all the film on the disposable underwater camera we'd bought, I missed a great shot of a turtle I surprised at close range under water. Numerous turtles and fish thrive in the bay and we could watch them from the cockpit since the visibility was so good.

On our way to Lamen Bay, we had a pleasant beat in flat water in light winds (5-10 knots). Outside the bay, our fishing line snagged something really big. With a bit of a struggle we discovered we'd caught a shark, but we wanted to get our lure back and he had swallowed it good. Since we figured he'd likely die anyway, we decided maybe we'd give him to the village when we arrived in the bay. Garth got a lasso around his tail and we attempted to tow him backward, although he was so strong, he was attempting to tow us backward. He thrashed for most of an hour, killing our boat speed in the lighter winds. When we thought he was dead, Garth carefully gut him while he safely hung over the side from both a halyard and a stabilizing line. When hoisted up to where his nose just touched the side deck, his fin extended just above Garth's head 6 feet off the deck! He presented a bit of an obstacle to work around and I gave him a wide berth as I dropped the jib and prepared the anchor for port. As we entered the bay, we waved over the first canoe we saw and offered them the shark. The wife of this older couple was apprehensive until we pointed out the slit in his belly. Friends were disappointed they didn't get photos before the recipients in the canoe paddled off, but we took quite a few of our shark before we gave him away.

Lamen Bay is on the island nearest the capital, with regular air service and an occasional cruise ship, yet on the windward side of the island is still quite remote. A truck ride through the remote areas will produce a curious welcome. Friends described how many of the locals wanted to touch their white skin and soft straight hair, since they'd rarely if ever had seen it before. Yet, in other locations Peace Corps volunteers are teaching computer classes, with equipment powered by solar panels. Lamen Bay is home to a large high school, where kids that excel in school can get scholarships to attend. Schooling is not universal past the elementary grades and only the most diligent students that can afford school fees can attend. Throughout the Pacific Islands in the more remote areas children often must travel to other islands or villages some distance from home to get an education. Often they are boarders during the week and return home to their families only on the weekends. We have attended a number of feast dinners that were designed to be fundraisers for the local school. Yachties have been asked to transport school supplies to remote islands and it is nice to be able to provide help beyond financing that can sometimes distort the local economy.

could replenish our food supplies, check email after a long hiatus and finally get rid of our garbage, which we carried for over a month since we left Fiji. We found the town of Port Vila to be very comfortable, compact with everything a yachties needs outside of boat parts. The town is much more sophisticated than Luganville, the 2nd largest town, with an almost American feel to it, but with French prices that shocked us after so much time seeing 2 to 1 Kiwi and Fijian prices. Port Vila is a place where yachties congregate, partially because it is a pleasant place to spend time and partially because it is a customs port and we are all waiting for a weather window to move on to the next leg of our journey. We had been in touch via email with folks from our yacht club (Fred Roswald and Judy Jensen on the Serendipity 43 "Wings") that had left 4 years before we did and we never imagined that we'd ever catch up with them, but we started reading about their plans this year and realized there was a possibility we'd be in the same country at the same time. After reaching them via SSB we met them in Port Vila, arriving in time to race with them and had a great time. We arranged a free tour of the Tusker Brewery with about 20 of our closest cruiser friends, finishing off the afternoon with an instant yachtie party in the tasting hut. (Sailors the world over seem to congregate whenever certain elements are present - much like spontaneous combustion.) Tusker Brewery makes a great stout beer, called "Southern Cross", but it is only available in Vanuatu; Since the brewery imports nearly all the ingredients, exporting is not cost effective.

Southeast of Port Vila is the island of Tanna, where we can see an active volcano erupting and visit a Kustom (traditional) village, although this requires a 2 day beat into normal trade winds and seas. We hope to get milder conditions that will allow us to make this trip, normally an uncomfortable bash to windward from Port Vila, a little less unpleasant. We can only wait so long for decent weather to visit Tanna, before we need to make tracks towards New Zealand. We plan to stop in New Caledonia briefly on our way south before returning to New Zealand for the hurricane season in time to witness the America's Cup and Around Alone races, but everything, as ever, depends on the weather.

Cheers, Wendy and Garth

Wendy Hinman
Garth Wilcox

Velella
Wylie 31'