last blog before Australia
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Fiji to Vanuatu 17:44S 168:19E Vuda Point and Lautoka Arriving on a Sunday afternoon to the sound of a jazz band on the lawn of the yacht club was a pleasant surprise. In fact we were to find that the club put on live music most nights of the week and patrons flocked from the resort next door through a convenient gate to listen. It was a windy week, so we were happy to stay put and do some boat jobs plus take the local bus to Lautoka to suss out customs for checking out and to see the town. It was an interesting journey; the poor bus had seen better days, and there was much clashing of gears and labouring engine. Lautoka is a sugar town, a bit like Bundaberg in Qld but with more life and energy. The people, as everywhere in Fiji, are friendly, welcoming and a delight to be around. ‘Bula, bula’ is said with a smile to everyone you pass in the street; many locals asked us with concern if we liked their country and our positive answer elicited broad grins. However, there is an undercurrent in Fiji’s social fabric caused by the inability of the Indians to own land. They can lease it, but not own it, and tensions bubble up when leases of long standing (eg sugar plantation acreage) are not renewed. The coups in Fiji in recent years are totally understandable when you see the differentiation in action. Happily, the current prime minister is very popular as many reforms (apart from the land issue) have been beneficial to the population as a whole. The industrious Indians control much of the commercial side of things and are noted for their sewing and tailoring, so we went looking for material to recover the boat cushions. We found a place that re-upholstered car cushions and Suzie poked around the back of the musty store and engaged the Indian owner in searching for what she wanted. Much shaking of head (meaning ‘yes’) and eventually a roll of fabric was discovered underneath a huge pile of others. Suzie’s eyes lit up on finding some piping and there was some negotiation about what quantity she could buy; it was not really for sale at all! Finally, a deal was done, with the sweetener that Suzie would send the man some needles for his industrial machine which he could not get in Fiji. The day we planned to leave Vuda Point there was a very strong cross wind and we watched as a smaller yacht got blown sideways and ended up t-boned against another boat. The skipper decided that there was no hurry; we would leave the next day when the wind had lessened. The marina was really good about it, not charging us for the extra night and the following morning we slid out without a hassle to the sound of the marina women staff singing us goodbye. A delightful custom which is supposed to make sure you will return.
We sailed up to Lautoka and anchored off the customs dock. Robin took the dinghy into the customs/immigration and we were processed smoothly. The immigration man insisted that Robin bring him out True Blue 1 to check for stowaways, but after looking quickly around he was satisfied, and content to relax for a cold drink and a chat. The Islands of Vanuatu We set sail for Tanna Island in Vanuatu, where we hoped
to see the famous Yasur volcano. It was a fast, smooth passage, one of the best
we have had. Three days later we anchored in Port Resolution, (actually a small
shallow bay) named by Captain Cook after his ship when he anchored there in
1774.
As we were choosing a spot to anchor we were surrounded by fishing canoes who tried to persuade us to anchor in their midst, and then another canoe approached from the opposite bank. The fishermen became quite agitated and waved the intruder away. We guessed that the fishermen were from a village which “owned” that part of the bay, and they wanted to claim us as “theirs”. This turned out to the case; in Vanuatu, village ownership of land extends beyond the high water mark right out into the bay! A canoe from the group then approached us and an older man, blind in one eye, introduced himself as Chief Jimmy from the village at the end of the bay. He was a very courteous and dignified man. We did not have any Kava on board ( the traditional gift one gives in arriving at a village) so we gave him a present of a cast net we had on board for years; this bought a smile to his face and he welcomed us to come and see him in his village. We did this a couple of days later and were delighted to see Chief Jimmy practising with the cast net on the beach in front of his village.
Although Tanna is one of the more populated of the Vanuatu islands, and one of the most fertile, the population is still living from subsistence farming and some eco-tourism, so the season when the yachts arrive is highly prized . At the head of the bay lies Port Resolution Yacht Club. This was developed at the suggestion of a sailor many years ago to the main chief. It is a low-key delightful spot; the meeting house is in a wonderful position overlooking the yachts at anchor in the bay. Small thatched burees are available for rent for adventurous travellers, and the chief and his family who run the yacht club organise 4WD transport to the volcano or elsewhere on the island.
Soon after making landfall we arranged to go by 4wd to Lenakel, to officially check in to Vanuatu. We were expecting a rough ride across the island and were not disappointed! The track was a mess of gullies and rough patches that would make most bush tracks look like a super highway. All vehicles were 4 wheel drive, no ordinary car would cope. David, our driver, had a 6 cylinder Nissan diesel and he used every bit of its “grunt” to get us to our various destinations along these tracks. The ride, although uncomfortable, was really interesting and informative about the islanders, their villages and lifestyles. David spoke French and passable English and stopped whenever requested for photos, and a stretch; we were all cramping after the first hour! Part of the journey took us past the volcano, and the landscape here was barren and dusty – a moonscape, with Yasur belching ash and smoke in the background.
Lenekal is not the greatest town. There seemed to be no planning for what went where; buildings of all shapes and sizes were placed higgledly piggedly, with no sense even of ‘straight’ roads. As usual, the focal point was the market which stretched some distance in every direction, its’ spreading arms dictated by the location of large shade trees. We finally got to see the officials (an hour after they were supposed to be in the office) and checked in – a paper exercise- revenue gathering, and then set off for the return drive to Port Resolution .
One evening, we were encouraged to go to a “dance night” in a nearby village; the entire population of the village dance and sings every Friday from 7pm to 7am! It turned out to be a Jon From believer’s village. The Jon From movement grew out of a resistance to the rigidity of the Presbyterian Church and the arrogance of the European planters.
The story is that Jon >From came from the sea in 1936 and announced there would be an abundance of wealth and no more epidemics, but all Europeans would have to leave the island before this happened. This belief was reinforced during the war when some Tannese worked for the American services and saw the wealth and generosity of the Americans. They therefore believed that Jon From must be an American. Over the years much of this cargo cult has died out but it is still very strong in some villages and in this particular one, unless you are a true believer, you are not allowed to reside there. We spent Saturday visiting the local village at Port Resolution and its’ school and presented the teacher with some school materials we had brought with us.
The kids were on holidays, which was disappointing, but we spent some time with Willi the teacher who was obviously proud of his school. It was yet another salutary experience to see the classrooms; the walls were full of holes, the floor at best rough concrete, resources nonexistent, there were a few bench seats, no electricity, windows or teaching aids. Yet the kids love going every day, learning their ‘abc’s and doing their ‘rithmetic’.
We spied a brand new building/library; it transpired that this was paid for by the efforts of an Australian teacher from Canberra who spent 6 years raising funds for the materials. The construction work was completed by the Rotary Club of Canberra the week before we arrived, but there is still a long way to go before the building is fully functional. The sad thing is that there is another excellent modern building in the grounds built by the 7th Day Adventist church, but the school is not allowed to use it. One wonders about the true meaning of “Christianity”. That evening was made the trip to the volcano. Over the rutted track we drove, David (our driver) somewhat inebriated from an afternoon of drinking Kava, gazing intently at the road, and talking into his mobile with his wife at the same time. After a mere one hour of bone shaking we parked the vehicle at the foot of the volcano and trudged up the very steep slope to its’ rim .
Wow!! Nothing prepares you for the visit! It is a truly once in a lifetime experience to feel the ground shaking beneath your feet, to hear the grumblings of hidden monsters as the volcano gets ready for an explosion and then to see the sky ahead and above you filled with vast chunks of boiling red lava. It is quite terrifying as the lumps of molten rock (some the size of a small car) can fly over your head. Every year people have been killed and you are advised to put your affairs in order before you visit!!
The skipper, not good on heights at the best of times, found the experience very un-nerving and actually quite terrifying! She declared she would rather be in a storm at sea than stand on this quivering mass of molten magna with its great bangs and whooshes of molten rocks spewing high into the air. So after a while, with the ground under our feet still shaking and the rumblings of the volcano still threatening us, we stumbled down the side to the mountain by torchlight the dark to the comfort of our trusty truck. We later learned we had been lucky to experience such an ‘active’ evening of the mighty Yasu.
On Sunday we set sail early for Port Vila some 130 miles away. An easy overnighter saw us in the comfort of the mooring outside the Yachting World dock, where we tied up early Monday morning, tired but happy to arrive. As we were checking in, we were delighted to see our friends Carol and Jack from Russell Island pop up at the bar! They had flown to Vanuatu to meet us and their presence reinforced the fact we are almost home. We organised a day trip around the island with them on the following Thursday and Jack wanted to have a sail so hopefully that too will happen next Sunday.
En route to Vanuatu we learnt via the SSB that our good friend Frank on Another Adventure was having trouble with his engine. It was not functioning so he was sailing slowly in light airs trying to reach Port Vila. Suzie got busy organising a berth for him and a tow if needed to the yacht club. A lovely young man from Fiji came asking for work, so we gave him a day’s cleaning for the princely sum of A$40-00 for the day; we want to arrive home in Brisbane looking as ‘ship-shape’ as possible after our long Pacific journey. Frank finally arrived and anchored under sail; after he had checked in Suzie organised the marina boat to tow him to the wall next to us. We were in our dinghy as well pushing and shoving, and we finally berthed him safely. On Thursday we set off with Carol and Jack on a tour of the Island. The countryside was green and lush and the beaches very pretty. We looked for needy villages to give our spare ropes to but these seemed far between here, such is the affluence of this island relative to the others, but we did find one or two locals who were very happy to get the gift; they use old rope as tethers for their cows.
At one
place our out-of-date guide book said if you blow a conch shell, a canoe comes
out to take you to an island off the coast. Alas, the conch was gone and
replaced by an empty gas cylinder, which Suzie hit to try it out; a resounding
‘gong’ boomed out across the bay. Luckily, no-one appeared, as a local said it
needed several bangs to bring the canoe. Had it arrived, Suzie would have had to
pay the fee of 1000 dingbats (local
currency) whether she wanted to travel or not! The orphanage Perhaps the highlight of our stay in Port Villa was a visit to a local family in the back streets of the town. This family of 2 parents and 2 children actually care for 16 orphans ranging from 14 through 2 yrs. The lady teaches all the children basic education every morning and then does the household chores etc in the afternoon. The house is a two room tin shack, the cooking is done over an open fire outdoors, and the open sided room (see below) the total living quarters. Carol and Jack stumbled on this family via a chance meeting with a Salvation Army person.
Carol, with her puppet Monty the Monkey, and her ventriloquism had won the hearts of these children and in so doing discovered that above all things, they wanted a keyboard as music and religion is a big part of this culture. Carol and Jack gave up their planned excursion by air to the volcano in Tanna Island and instead spent the money on a keyboard for the family. A wonderful gesture.
We pitched in with a bag of goodies we had for children and a quantity of canned food surplus to our requirements. Suzie organised a couple of other yachties to do likewise and together with a huge bin of popcorn we visited the family one night for a sing song and puppet show.
The eyes of the kids said it all. They have nothing when compared to Australian kids but what they exhibited was politeness, gratitude and wonderment, no resentment, simply an enjoyment of life. The foster parents with little material wealth of their own are doing such a wonderful job, and hopefully our support, small though it was, helped a little. The government, of course, does not offer any aid so this huge extended family relies on goodwill, and the income for the foster dad’ government job as a bus driver.
On a different note we, together with Jack and Carol, celebrated Robins 67th birthday at a French Restaurant. Good food, lovely setting but we were the only ones there – very strange, however the town packs it in early and by 10pm there is hardly a soul on the street.
Our final event was a day sail out to Hideaway Island and a swim. Alas, no coral, and the wind was brisk, however Jack became Suzie’s pupil as he deftly steered True Blue to windward like a old hand across the bay back to the dock.
No sooner had Carol and Jack left than our long term friends Gunner and Eva sailed in to the bay on their yacht Kahiba. It is lovely to have Kahiba’s company for this, our final Pacific Island stop. Soon, we shall set off for Brisbane via New Caledonia. This will, most likely, be our last entry on the blog until we reach Brisbane. To all of our friends who have followed our journey over the past year, we hope you have enjoyed the stories and the picture as much as we have in writing and sending them. We are planning to arrive in Rivergate Marina sometime in mid September, so until then, Au Revoir and to those still ‘out there’, fair winds.
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