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Date: 16 Aug 2008 00:29:52
Title: A drive-by fruiting w/ pictures in Hog's Harbour, Espiritu Santo Island, Vanuatu
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15:08.629S  167:06.935E
 
Note:  Pictures are attached to this version.
 
We left Oyster Island and Peterson Bay on Saturday (8/2) and motored the twenty miles (no wind) north to Hog's Harbour on the northeast corner of Espiritu Santo Island.  We've been here two nights and plan to stay one more before heading off tomorrow (Tuesday) on the fifty mile sail to the next Vanuatu island to the north, Gaua.  We are the only boat here in Lonnoc Bay (which is part of Hog's Harbour) so we have the view of white sand Lonnoc Beach and neighboring small offshore islands to ourselves.  At night it's a bit eerie, especially since there is no moon overhead, cloudy skies, no stars and not a single light to be seen on shore - even though we know there is a village and a small bar/restaurant with several guest bungalows nearby.
 
We did venture in to shore yesterday to see what there was to see and to take a long walk.  We hadn't even made it to shore before a man with a couple of young kids hailed us and motioned to where we should beach the dinghy.  Paul came over and introduced himself and the kids before we had a chance to hop out of the dinghy.  He then helped us carry the dinghy up the beach and tie it off (picture 1 - view of our boat in the bay with our dinghy on the gorgeous white sand beach in the foreground).  Not a half a minute later and Paul was offering us grapefruits from the trees near his house across the way.  It happened that fast.  Greetings, introductions, fruit offering.  We offered a t-shirt in return for the grapefruits and a deal was made.  Paul directed us to the village and told us he runs the small bar/restaurant and guest bungalows (there were no guests or restaurant patrons from what we could tell).  He also said that his father bakes bread for the village every day, and if we wanted some we should stop back sometime after four o'clock.  We asked where we should go for the bread and he pointed in the direction of his father's house, which is next door to his own house as well as that of his brother's - down a dirt track, the turnoff for which is marked by a dugout canoe painted blue, standing on end against a tree.  Ok, very good.  With all that info fresh in our heads, we started off down what used to be a concrete paved road (now a pockmarked and rutted track with the last vestiges of concrete still clinging to the ground here and there) in the direction of the village.
 
A short while later we entered what appeared to be the village - several shack-like houses clustered on either side of the dilapidated road.  Each house had a small yard generally filled with kids, moms and a variety of chickens, with the occasional pig.  We waved to everyone as we passed by and everyone waved enthusiastically back with calls of 'Hallo!'.  As we neared what looked like the end of the village, a teenage girl greeted us and asked if we wanted to go to the store.  'Ok', we said, 'we'll go to the store' (we really didn't have a need for the store, but she must have figured that all yachties have a need for the store, so to the store we went).  The girl led the way and we followed, winding our way between various small, low lying and rather dingy buildings.  'There is the store.' our guide said as she pointed to a small ramshackle building that appeared to be deserted.  We made our way to the designated building whispering to each other along the way that it looked like it was closed when suddenly another girl appeared from the house next door to open up the store for us.  Inside we found a tiny table with a 'Stock up for School!' sign on it and a couple of small stacks of notebooks (the kids were on holiday part of the previous week for Vanuatu's Independence Day and were to return to school the following day).  There were two walls lined with a couple of shelves.  Each shelf held several small pyramids of like items stacked up neatly with lots of space in between each pyramid.  We zeroed in on the one form of junk food available - some snack crackers made by an Australian company.  We felt we should buy something, so we picked up the snack crackers and paid the girl (we seem always to be short of junk food since it is hard to find in Vanuatu - no wonder all the people here are relatively trim).  That done, we left the store and headed back out of the village the way we had come.
 
All of the people seemed to be on high alert as we made our way back out of the village.  Since they had seen us walk through to the store, they knew we would be coming back their way and they were ready for us when we did.  Our first visitor was a young teenage girl who presented us both with flowers to wear behind our ears and then asked if we would take her picture.  When I got out the camera, two more boys materialized, so I asked them to join the picture (picture 2 - Don with his new friends).  Next, the boy standing to the right of Don offered us the piece of fruit he is carrying.  Don and I looked at each other and knew what each was thinking... 'What the heck is it?'.  We still don't know but we paid the boy 200 Vatu for the piece of fruit and it is now sitting in our cockpit waiting for us to get brave enough to crack it open and try it.  A few more paces down the road and a girl not more than three or four years old ran up to us full steam, stopping a good three feet in front of us and stretching out her arm as far as possible to hand us a giant hibiscus flower.  As soon as we took the flower from her, she turned and fled as fast as her little legs would take her (we suspect her mom put her up to the flower giving task).  Twenty more steps down the road and another little girl, this one four or five, held up a grapefruit for us to take.  I scooped a box of crayons out of our bag of trading goodies I had brought to shore with us for just this type of occasion and handed them over to her.  She squealed, maybe not knowing what the crayons were, and ran off to show her friends.  A few more steps down the road and two more flowers were presented to us by another little girl.  Twenty more paces and we were clear of the village.  Shew!  One stroll through the village, one box of snack crackers, three flower presentations and two fruitings later and we were ready to embark on our long walk.
 
We had read that the coastal road (yes, that same, sorry, used-to-be concrete road) led up the hill where a marvelous view of the bay could be found.  As we made our way up the hill, several 4x4 pick-up trucks passed us by, all jam packed with ni-Vans (natives) not only crammed in the cab, but completely overflowing the truck bed too.  This is the most common mode of transportation in Vanuatu.  Everywhere we have been we've seen families of ni-Vans spilling over the sides of pick-up trucks on their way to the market or to the next village. This is always a colorful sight - all the women and most of the girls in their flowered Mother Hubbard dresses, their family-grown fruit and vegetables stacked up in giant woven palm frond baskets.  In the country it's also a noisy affair because everyone waves and yells 'Hallo' when they pass you by - especially after you wave and yell 'Hallo' first.
 
A couple of buses (small vans) carrying a few tourists from the nearby beach back to the main town of Luganville also stopped to make sure we didn't want a ride.  We decided that just taking a walk for the sake of exercise was a very unusual thing to do in Vanuatu, and this is why we received so much attention.  The last truck to stop was a newer model 4x4 with a double cab and no one in the truck bed (must have belonged to a wealthier family).  The ni-Van driver pulled up next to us, asked us if we were ok, asked if we wanted a ride, and asked again even after we told him and those with him that we were just taking a walk for the exercise because we had been on the boat so long.  Finally satisfied that we were ok, the driver and the Mother Hubbard clad woman in the back seat handed us a bunch of bananas and a coconut.  'Here, take some bananas!' said the driver.  'And a coconut!' said the Mother Hubbard clad woman.  'Yes, yes, you should take them!' they insisted.  'Ok!  Thank you!'  We took the bananas and the coconut and added them to our bag with the grapefruit, snack crackers, flowers and unidentified prickly skinned giant green fruit.  The 4x4 moved on as I turned to Don, 'I think we've just experienced a drive-by fruiting!'.  'Yes.' he grinned, 'We have.'
 
A little further up the road we ran into a family resting on the shoulder enjoying the view of the bay (picture 3 - view of the bay with our lovely boat in the center).  After a bit of conversation, we learned that the woman's name was Kathy and she is the primary school teacher for the village we had just visited.  She was traveling (walking) with her niece and three children - the youngest of which couldn't have been more than four years old.  She said her husband lives in the village forty kilometers away and she and the children had been home with him over the holiday.  Now they were making their way back to the village where she teaches in preparation for school to re-start the next day.  Walking.  Forty kilometers with three children and a teenager, and not a complaint to be heard from any of them.
 
After admiring the view of the bay from the hill, we made our way back down, bypassed the town (to avoid more fruitings - we had all we could carry!) and found the blue painted dugout canoe marking the track to Paul, his brother Daniel's and his father's houses.  We met Daniel, who took us to his father's house where we learned the bread wouldn't be ready until 5:30.  Daniel asked if we had any rope we could spare, he said he always asks the yachties for rope because it works well for tying up his cattle.  Don agreed to take a look and said we would bring it back with us at 5:30.  We stopped at Paul's bar/restaurant (small gazebo) where we were the only patrons and bought a couple of drinks.  Paul expressed an interest in accompanying us back to the boat while Don looked for spare rope for his brother.  We piled in the dinghy picking up another of Paul's brothers along the way and the four of us went out to the boat.  While I gave Paul and his brother a tour, Don found some spare rope.  Paul had seen other yachts before, so did not seem surprised to see the glut of electronic appliances, computers, etc. in the boat cabin.  His brother, however, was a bit agape and rather speechless.  It's easy to forget that these people do not have electricity (except for the small generator Paul uses for the bar/restaurant when he has patrons), probably don't have running water, and certainly have no microwave oven, washing machine, radar, computer printer/copier, TV, stereo, etc., etc.  They did, however, recognize the cell phone.  Paul has one of his own and said many of the kids have one.  Amazing given that most don't even have electricity.  No wonder when we got our Vanuatu cell phone it came with a solar charger.
 
We took the dinghy back to the beach and Paul and his brother moved on (Paul happy with an old fishing rod that Don had given him) while we went in search of Daniel and fresh bread.  Daniel greeted us as we neared his house (he had been watching for us) and was very pleased with the rope.  He offered us grapefruit in return, but we explained that Paul had already given us enough.  We moved on to the father's house where about twenty loaves of bread (all perfectly shaped) were sitting on a makeshift table under a tree, fresh out of the wood-fired cinder block oven.  We marveled over the bread and bought three loaves from the proud bakers (picture 4).  As we passed Daniel's house on our way back to the beach, he met us on the track with a bracelet for me - one he had fashioned out of the shell of a coconut.  It is imperfect, but pretty - all the more so because it was a gift in exchange for the rope Don had given him.
 
And so ended our Hog's Harbour adventure.  We are minus one length of spare rope, an old never-used fishing rod, a t-shirt, a box of crayons and about $7, but received what we felt was a fair share in return.  That's the way it works in Vanuatu - giving and receiving gifts and trading for goods.  The culture of hospitality is so strong that the more someone gives away, the higher their status and respect within the village.    It's different, but we think we could get used to this - drive-by fruitings and all.
Anne

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