Breathtaking Vanuatu

Imagine, going to what friends – serious foodies – have said is the best restaurant in town. You’re intrigued, but wonder whether it can live up to the billing. You go, and are knocked-out by the amazing food, the charming ambience, and the impeccable service. How could anything be better? You want to go back and try more of the scrumptious offerings on the menu.

That’s how we felt about Fiji. We really wanted to stay longer. Wanted to explore more picture-perfect islands. Meet more amazingly welcoming Fijians. Some of our sailing friends declared it ‘the absolute best’, and were actively pursuing options for staying longer.

But that’s one of the conundrums of cruising; visiting these wonderful places, and then having to pack up and sail away. To another country you’ve never visited. A place you may like or loath.  You just don’t know. The only certainty is it will be different. 

We were somewhat apprehensive about Vanuatu. Would it be a bit of letdown after Fiji?

We needn’t have worried.

Vanuatu, formerly called The New Hebirdes, this y-shaped nation of 83 islands, has a fascinating history, distinct culture, and a charm all its own. It’s a place of contrasts and contradictions. On one hand, it has the highest risk of natural disasters of any country on earth (according to the World Risk Index). Earthquakes, tsunamis, volcanoes, hurricanes – Vanuatu gets them all, in spades. On the other hand, the people who live here regularly top the Happy Planet Index, as the happiest in the world.

You feel and experience that happiness all the time. These folks can’t stop smiling. And pretty soon, for no apparent reason, you too are grinning like the locals. Seriously. Maybe it’s contagious? Regardless, they’re delightful folks to be around.   

Back to the natural disasters; we checked into the country at Port Vila, the capitol. It suffered a 7.3 magnitude earthquake in December. Nineteen people were killed. Most buildings remain standing, but the majority sustained damage. Some were completely leveled. Residents, businesses and government institutions are still recovering.  

The customs officials who cleared us in, did so from temporary quarters – a basement apartment near the waterfront. The immigration officer, completed his paperwork and stamped our passports on the patio of the marina’s restaurant. We joshed about his office having a great view and ‘an open-door policy’. He didn’t appreciate our attempt at humour.

We wanted to take in the National Arts Festival being held on the island of Tanna, 140+ miles to the south. The weather forecast was favourable – moderate winds on the beam – and we enjoyed an uneventful overnight passage under a bright waxing moon.

By noon we’d anchored in Resolution Bay – named after the Royal Navy ship, the HMS Resolution, which sailed into the bay under the command of Sir James Cook in 1774.  While much has changed in the intervening 250 years, the people who live in the small villages around the bay continue to live very traditional lives. Fortunately, the once wide-spread practice of cannibalism ceased more than a century ago.

The men here still fish from dugout canoes fitted with lashed-on outriggers and use hand-carved paddles. However, they now use modern synthetic nets. Traditional gender roles endure. Women raise children and prepare meals. Subsistence farming still accounts for most of the food consumed.

The kids now go to schools, much like ours. But people’s concept of themselves and society is radically different from ours. We assign far more significance to the individual. It’s almost impossible to overstate the importance Vanuatu villagers attach to community belonging and their tight-knit families. Their role, their sense of its value, and indeed their happiness, is inseparable from community and family.

The guys out fishing, and they do so daily, work as a team. One chap does the spotting from high atop a hill, yelling down instructions. The men form a big circle with their canoes, and deploy a series of nets. Then, the ones in the middle jump into the water and splash about, others smack their paddles on the surface, driving fish into the nets. All of them chattering and laughing non-stop. This is clearly their happy place, to use an over-worked term.

The National Arts Festival was definitely a big deal. But the programing was impossible to decipher. Our white faces stood out as a bit of a curiosity, particularly for small children, in the crowds comprised almost entirely of Islanders. We enjoyed performances by dance troops clad in traditional grab, accompanied by singing, drumming and chanting. Each unique to their particular island.

Tribal customs are very important, and the diversity is impressive for a nation of only 300,000. More than 100 different languages are spoken on the 65 inhabited islands. The common language, Bislama is widely spoken, as are the two other official languages French and English. The latter two being relics of Vanuatu’s colonial past, when the country was jointly administered by England and France.   

The other noteworthy point of interest on Tanna is the active volcano Mount Yasur. Smoke from its summit is visible on the horizon even miles out to sea. During our stay in Resolution Bay a coating of sooty grey ash and fine abrasive particles accumulated on Turtlebones from the nearby volcano’s ongoing eruptions.

Along the shoreline and in the surrounding hills steam floated up from numerous thermal crevasses in the rock.  And in spots on the black sand beach thermal activity created hot bubbling zones. A hint of sulphur hangs in the air.    

As part of the cultural festival, the vast charcoal-coloured ash moonscape at the foot of Mount Yasur was transformed into huge music stage, which rocked until dawn. Foregoing the musical entertainment, we instead traveled up to the volcano’s summit in the back of a pickup truck. Everyone hung on tightly as the truck climbed up the deeply rutted track, sometimes leaning at quite precarious angles.   

Approaching the crater, the sound and vibration is, at once, frightening and compelling. I feel my heart rate increase. The earth trembles and a deep roar rises up every couple of seconds. The mountain becomes one incredibly massive sub-woofer. The closer you get to the crater’s lip, the more its sheer force assaults your entire body.

Peeking over the edge, with just a rickety two by four separating you from a steep drop to certain death, hundreds of metres below, the molten orange glow is visible through a thick haze.

Every 10 or 20 minutes, a much larger eruption occurs. There’s an enormous roar as bright material spews out from a fiery orifice deep in the crater. Next, you’re hit with a choking plume of sulphur dioxide. During the safety briefing, we were advised not to panic and run from these larger eruptions. Easier said than done.

As a child reading about volcanoes, I recall learning how people who live near volcanoes often worshiped them as gods, or viewed them as mythical creatures possessing supernatural powers. At the time, I found it hard to comprehend.

However, being in the presence of such enormous, awe-inspiring, power, it seems to makes perfect sense.