Landfall! 

Soon after sunrise the volcanic peaks of Tanna island rose above the horizon, our first glimpse of Vanuatu.  The last few miles of a passage always seem to take forever.  The destination slowly reveals itself, more details of the landscape gradually appearing to the impatient crew.  In this case a grey smudge of land eventually resolved into dense jungly mountains shrouded in cloud, or perhaps gas from Mount Yasur, a very live volcano.

We had left Fiji 3 days ago.  We sailed out through Wilkes Pass, past Namotu Island and out into the South Pacific.  Unfortunately we had to sail through a local ’squash zone’ with 3 reefs and 40 kts of wind. It soon calmed down but that first night was a bit noisy, Arabella was concerned we were being attacked by orca.

We settled in to a smoother winds, seas and easy reaching. Entertainments included Alex’s hand pumped espressos, the traditional Escapade ‘halfway party’, analogue offshore Wordle (set by Dawn and fiendishly difficult) and the excitement of a substantial billfish tearing off with our lure before jumping high behind the boat and spitting the hook mid air.  Big splash, no fish, but we still have the chewed lure.  It was an easy passage, especially at night with six of us to share the watches. 

We were heading for Port Resolution. Named by Captain James Cook in 1774, after his ship the HMS Resolution. He called these islands the New Hebrides, the name stuck until 1980, when they became Vanuatu. 

As the bay came in to view we were surprised to see about twenty yachts anchored there. By now it was mid morning, we could hear loud music ashore, drumming?  Dark figures in the trees, jumping, waving and shouting at us as we pass the headland.  We jump, wave and shout back. What a welcome!

Port Resolution

The anchor is set and we take in our surroundings.  We’re sitting at the base of a live volcano.  There is steam venting from caves and hot water bubbling from the rocks behind us.

We’re not allowed ashore until we clear customs and immigration, but it sounds like there’s a party going on here.  Later we heard that the village of Port Resolution had just won the Tanna Island soccer championship. We did a bit of trading with these girls who paddled out to us with some beans from their garden.

There were a few other Q flags flying in the bay. Rumours about a visit from the customs officials crackled across the anchorage on channel 16. Eventually an announcement was made and I zoomed ashore.

When I finally pulled our dinghy up the beach I felt I had arrived somewhere special.

Dugout canoes with string-lashed outriggers on the beach. The giant trees towering over the muddy path up the hill.  It felt as though this place had only been lightly touched by humans.

At the top of the hill is the ‘Port Resolution Yacht Club’.  In May this island was struck by two consecutive cyclones, they are now rebuilding.  The yacht club is currently a table under a tin roof.  Happily there is also a fridge so you can purchase a cold ‘Tusker’ beer, plus a tea-chest bass, should you feel tuneful.

The customs guy never did show up, but I was welcomed by the friendly immigration and bio-security officers who said I should go to town tomorrow to find customs. ‘Town’ is Lenakel, on the other side of the island, across the mountains.

Anyway, now we are all allowed ashore, so we went to visit the village.  It made a pretty big impression on all of us.

A few hundred friendly people living in palm thatch huts with well tended gardens, laughing children running wild with a selection of dogs, piglets and chickens. An enchanting place.

Sandy paths through the damp forest, fertile volcanic soil and extravagant tropical greenery. No electricity, no tarmac.  

The next day we saw more of Tanna from the back of a 4WD pick-up.  We left the village and made slow progress on the mud ‘road’ through the jungle. Children smiling and waving from the side of the track.  

A local chief had died and families were walking from miles around to be together at his village, carrying food for the feast. Everyone seemed so genuinely friendly, despite the fact that almost every man, woman and child was casually armed with a machete.

The scene changed abruptly when out of the jungle appeared the unfinished end of a brand new tarmac road.

Chinese investment and engineers arrived here 15 years ago to start a road building project. The road now reaches down the rugged west coast, up and over each steep headland, and across the south of the island. Next year the bulldozers will cut the final miles all the way through the wild hills to Port Resolution. The modern world is about to arrive in this extraordinary place.

We stop at a hilltop looking back towards the bay, the smoking volcano and the endless steaming jungle, I wouldn’t be that surprised to see a pterodactyl gliding past. 

After a couple of hours we arrived in Lenakel, the only town on Tanna, find the customs office (closed) and eventually the customs officer who had to be brought from his house to complete our formal entry to Vanuatu.  

The Volcano

Mount Yasur is not very high and only an hour from the anchorage on that very bumpy 4WD track.  But it is an active live volcano and visitors are invited to climb to the top and peer into the caldera.  The visitor safety arrangements could be described as pretty loose.  There is a safety briefing “Don’t fall in”, and there are a few sticks driven in to the lava around the crater to indicate roughly where the edge is.  But you are standing on the rim, just below you is molten rock.  You can hear it bubbling!  Parents and children are literally leaning backwards over the edge taking selfies. There are the cooling remains of lava bombs where we are all standing. The air is full of falling ash, every few minutes the ominous rumbling becomes a deafening roar as the lava erupts into the air.  The first time it happened we all ran for cover.  

Apparently it is one of the most spectacular sights you will see in the whole South Pacific. Unfortunately it was foggy the night we went so we didn’t really see anything.

We had arrived in daylight to see the crater filling with a self perpetuating cloud.  After sunset we could at least see the glow of the erupting lava, if not the detail.  All a bit disappointing but we wouldn’t have missed it, to be that close to the power of Mother Earth was unforgettable. And all a bit sketchy.

Northbound

We had read about what supplies were most needed here after the cyclones.  We brought clothes, tools, solar lanterns, reading glasses, fishing tackle, school stationery and other supplies for the village, which we entrusted to the schoolteachers in Port Resolution. The school was badly damaged by the cyclones, Unicef have provided temporary classroom tents while the villagers rebuild.  

Our school visit was a delight, we arrived at break time and all the kids were playing marbles in the dirt.  I sat under a tree with two shy girls, just to make conversation I asked if they had any marbles, they shook their heads. I told them I didn’t either. Dawn told them that I’d lost mine years ago. 

Port Resolution is a bit of a rolly anchorage.  There’s actually a surf break at the mouth of the bay.  We had been playing there one morning, I was towing Bryan into some foilable waves to the amazement of Noel, who was paddling past on his fishing trip.  Noel needed some new line for his handmade harpoon, which we were happy to provide.  On one side of my dinghy the latest carbon fibre hydrofoil surfboard, on the other a dugout canoe whose design and construction have not changed for millennia.

Someone up the mountain had told me the wind would go round to the North this week. Our weather window to sail up that way was closing, so it was time to pull up the hook and set sail again.  This time only one night at sea, up past the island of Erromango and around the Eastern side of Efate.  

The next morning we came gliding through a reef pass to the clear waters around Kakula island and found a sandy patch for the anchor.  Now this was my kind of anchorage, open to the trade winds with a sandy spit and a hundred hues of blue to go winging around.  So we did.

From there we could see a distant line of whitewater in the next pass. Waves?  Bryan’s antennae started twitching and after a check of the charts and Google Earth we soon had Escapade re-positioned next to a fun right-hand reef break off Pele island.  A pod of porpoises were cruising through the bright blue water in the bay.

First we went ashore to the tiny village to ask permission from the Chief.  We met Kennedy who seemed to be the spokesman.  He had directed us to an anchoring spot and welcomed us to enjoy his beautiful neighbourhood.  This is his daughter, Pettina.  

The next day he brought her and his whole family to the boat.  None of them had ever been on a yacht.

Kava

Do you remember we were invited to a family kava ceremony when we first arrived in Fiji?  It is the recreational drink of choice there, made from the pounded root of the yaqona plant, mixed with water (or saliva) and strained through a cloth.  I drank several shells of the stuff in the interests of research, resulting in a numb mouth and two days of sleepiness.  But the Vanuatu brew is reported to be a much stronger narcotic and clearly more research was required.  We had been invited to the ’Nakamal’ in Port Resolution to drink Kava with the local menfolk, but women are not allowed there.  Since we are an equal opportunities ship and the whole crew was kava curious, we arranged for a private supply.

Kennedy commissioned a fresh brew for us and delivered it to Escapade on his banana boat.

An earthy liquid, perhaps pre-chewed by the island youths, traditionally served in half coconut shells. Nobody was very keen on the flavour, although I found it quite palatable, muddy with a hint of anis.  After a couple of high-tide shells we were all loosening up a bit, numb lips, very relaxed and with a pleasant buzz.  Then we invented a game of karaoke charades. Or something. We drank the lot and all agreed it was a fun night.  Everyone slept well and no hangovers reported, but some very cinematic dreams.

We went by dinghy to the next island. By far the most imposing structure in the village was the enormous Nakamal. Exclusively used for kava drinking, and no women allowed!

Shelter from the storm

I loved that spot. We enjoyed the small windswell waves wrapping on to that reef, which groomed them into perfect little glassy rights.  

We would have stayed longer, but for the last few days we had been aware of a tropical depression forming up north, unusually close to the equator.  One morning Kennedy was dragging all the village boats way above the high water line on his beach, the storm is coming this way.  Time for us to look for shelter in the harbour at Port Vila.