Yasur

Arrival at 19:30 on the 18^th July, in Port Resolution, (Tanna Island), thus named after the good ship Resolution and its captain, the renowned Captain James Cook, was a blessed relief! Unlike Captain Cook who was looking for a Northern passage by sea from the Pacific to the Atlantic Ocean, we just wanted to be on a flat surface that was not constantly undulating! We did eventually walk on dry land, but the boat continued to pitch back and forth, because, as luck would have it, Port Resolution is a sheltered and calm bay except in a easterly swell – you guessed it, we had an easterly swell! 

The affable, generous smiles and delight in the eyes of the local villagers, who had been closeted from the world outside for two and half years, restored us to good health. Vanuatu is one of the poorest Pacific Island nations. The villagers do not generally have “jobsâ€?, they lead subsistence lives, but despite their poverty, they are often deemed the happiest people on Earth. The island archipelago consists of 80 islands, 65 inhabited, that stretch across 1,300 kilometers.  They mostly speak 4 languages, the national language, Bislama, their own regional dialect, English and French. Vanuatu was formerly jointly administered by the British and the French, originally known as New Hebrides. According to Andrew, Yachting World Marina, in Port Vila, (Éfaté Island), the British governor sat in his mansion drinking tea, while the French ran the country! Independence finally came in 1980. Independence Day is celebrated soon, on 30^th July. Vanuatu means “our land foreverâ€?.

Active volcanos are found on several islands, with frequent earthquake activity, signifying instability. The geology boasts, sedimentary rock, coral limestone, and volcanic rock. From Irene IV’s deck anchored in Port Resolution, we can see a white sand coral beach and a black sand volcanic rock beach, as well as steam issuing from rocks, hillsides, and the water’s surface. The active volcano, Yasur, predominates the skyline of Tanna Island. The morning of the 19^th July, has the volcano veiled behind dense fog, known as “vog� to volcanologists. We are excited to visit the volcano just after sunset, so we can readily see the molten magma glow. A day ashore, seeing to entry paperwork, administered in the “Yacht Club�, a crumbling shack, bedecked with fraying flags from all the nations of the world from pre Covid years, with a few moldy books, a moth eaten sofa, a rickety trestle table, covered in a once colorful tablecloth, adorned with rips and stains, some chairs to be wary of, as nails stick out dangerously every which way – in short a charming tropical delight. Stanly and Wery are the ambassadors from the village and its hereditary chief, who greet us and explain how everything works around here. Fortunately for us, Seabird arrived a day ahead and Michael, in true Australian fashion, he hails from Sydney, had organized getting local currency, Vatu, a 4-wheel drive vehicle up to the volcano that evening as well as beers in the yacht club freezer!

The drive to the volcano took over an hour, on rough terrain, known here as roads, but to us mere mortals, as moonscape rutted craters to be avoided however possible – I’m not sure which was more sea sickening, the sail from Fiji or the car ride to the volcano. The Yasur volcano tour center, a once thriving business, is down at heel at present, but we did find a guide, some masks, and helmets. The guide explained that safety was his chief concern. Health and Safety in our various countries would have been horrified at the local notion of being safe! The guide and his side kick were to lead from the front and the rear in true military fashion. Except, of course when an Australian lady got frightened by the guttural roars of Mother Earth through the throat of Yasur and needed to be escorted down the mountain side, leaving the remaining 20 of us alone with the beast, the vog and the raining sulfuric lava dust. Our guide, Luke, drew a line in the volcanic sand and said we were to stay behind the line! The other side of the line was a sheer drop that ended in the boiling core of the Earth.

The experience at the volcano was elemental, primeval, a meeting of man and nature, so profound and raw. Few words were uttered, a silence reigned, punctuated by the moans, spits, and throaty grumbles of Yasur coming from the unseen depths below. The dark night sky was highlighted in glows of pinks and oranges, dotted with sparks of bright burning red magma. The sounds travelled from under our feet up our legs to the core of our very being, a reunion of forms, in harmony and reconciliation.

Back at the Yacht Club, we drank beers with Wery and his wife Monique. Michael had bought the beers to stock the freezer, and the diesel for the noisy generator that powered the freezer, and then he paid Wery and Monique for the beer that quenched all our hearty thirsts after our volcanic adventure.

A shower back onboard to scrub off the lava sand and a mug of chicken noodle soup, saw us all tucked up in bed before 22:00, enjoying vivid dreams of ancient landscapes with galloping unicorns.