Vanuatu Blog
Some time in September (I think)
Well, another crap trip for the records,
especially uncalled for as it should have been a blissful 3 day downwind sail.
But no, winds in excess of 30 knots most of the time (apart from the day with
none), evil swells coming from all directions, so no matter which way you headed
you still got big nasty greenies coming over the side and filling the cockpit,
and to make matters worse, we had major problems with the self-steering and had
to handsteer a lot of the way, which is fun when you are hurling in a bucket –
the first time in years I’ve been seasick . Just when we thought we were over
the worst, five days later, we were coming into Mele Bay at the entrance to Port
Vila and we got hit by another rogue swell, which tipped the boat on its side
and sent me (Jill) flying through the leecloth, out of the bunk, across the
cabin and into the table, resulting in a couple of broken ribs. And to cap it
off the Quarantine guy confiscated the eggs I was going to have for breakfast
and I spilled a cup of boiling coffee over my (very) damaged cleavage. Remind
me again why I do this. 
The fleet in Port Vila anchorage →
Our one consolation was that we were not the only ones – just about every yacht that made the passage could be found drowning their sorrows at the Waterfront Bar exclaiming indignantly about what a shocking trip they had had, how it was supposed to be one of the easiest in the Pacific and they had got thrashed, and they had been seasick for the first time in years!
← Vege markets at Port Vila
However after all the trauma, I still loved Vanuatu as much as I had the first time we went there four years ago. Because I had to wait for my ribs to heal up, we didn’t get to see much of the country, just Port Vila and Havannah Harbour.
Havannah Harbour:
We had a marvelous time in Havannah, home of the Vanuatuan tomato. It is an amazingly well-protected harbour that was used by the US troops as a base during WW2, and which still has heaps of relics (wrecked planes, old Coke bottles) just lying around. It is also very beautiful, and the local village people are really friendly and interesting.
← Wrecked WW2 plane, Moso Village, Havannah Harbour
Bruce & pikininis before the seat collapse →
We were invited over to the village on Moso Island as they had a church group from the Solomon Islands visiting to give a concert, and then to have a feast afterwards. It was a very big deal - all the villagers in the area were talking about it. We went over just before dark, and it was held outdoors around a covered stage that is located in the middle of the village, much sound checking was being done, with all the guys prodding electrical bits, trying to look important. We got prime seats, along with Pastor Stephen & Rick & Dave from yacht Gambit. I was wondering why there was a large clear area in front of the stage, but thought it was probably where the women & kids sat. We had a great time with the local pikinini (don't worry about being PC - that is the Bislama word for children) while we were waiting for it to start - we developed a game where we all swayed from side to side on the benches, great fun until a major bench collapse, which ensued even more hilarity.
Finally, only 3/4 hour late, the Solomon Islander people came onto the stage, and after a few moments it became clear this was not the harmonious hymn-singing choir we had expected, but an Evangelical Revival meeting! The usually quiet & shy ni-Vans went berserk and everyone was dancing wildly in the afore-mentioned clear space, shouting "Hallelujah!", waving their arms and zooming about the place like aeroplanes. We got dragged up and ended up dancing, "clappin hands blong umi tumas" and "praisin name blong Jesus!" with everyone else. It was a great night, all 3 1/2 hours of it, but the songs were all country & western/rock'n'roll/reggae tunes, so it was very lively. Religion was kept to a minimum and the main message was be happy & love one another, which was a bit more positive & harmless than the fear-of-God Methodist service we went to in Fiji.
Clappin' Hands & praisin' name blong Jesus!
Port Vila:
Well, back in Port Vila again, fleeing from canoe-loads of tomato gifts in Havannah Harbour. It is full production time and about 3 times a day dugouts would arrive bearing gifts of tomatoes. Our smiles of joy were a little strained by day 9 - I suspect they had a sweepstake going for when we broke down & cried when confronted by yet another load of glorious big red tomatoes. We have had tomatoes on toast, tomato sandwiches, stewed tomatoes, tomato soup, tomato salad, tomatoes cooked with eggs, tomato pasta, tomato risotto and even more ways of eating them than I can remember - I am recalling the Fijian banana glut here. We crept out of the bay at crack of dawn expecting to be chased by dugouts full of villagers yelling "Come back & eat tomatoes, you cowards!"
Havannah Harbour canoe park'n'ride →
We are taking advantage of the facilities here to get the self-steering working properly, have another reef installed in the mainsail (there is a good cheap French sail-maker in the harbour) and for my broken ribs to heal up.
The weather here has been horrible, wet and windy most days, so we have been getting cabin fever, and looking for off-boat diversions. We visited the Cultural Centre & Museum which was very good - there was some very scary stuff there that gave you the screaming fantods. There are still some "kastom" (ie: traditional) villages around where they live in the way they have for years (apart from cannibalism - apparently they last ate someone 30 years ago) and they have traditions such as taking skulls of the recently deceased and making life-sized statues (rambaramps) of the person using the skull to rebuild the face on. They are very very creepy!
There were artifacts from the two tribes on Malekula (an island a bit north of here), the Big Nambas and the Small Nambas. To explain, a namba is a penis-wrapper, the only article of clothing the guys wear. And no, for those of you with the grubby-but-enquiring minds, it has nothing to do with what goes under the namba, it is the style of the woven pandanus leaves used - big & fluffy or minimalist. They had nambas for sale at the museum, so I bought one for Bruce, after ensuring it was a big namba (things we do to pander to the make ego), but he refuses to even try it on: he says he doesn't want to be the founding member (so to speak) of the Chafed Nambas. I don't know - people that won't enter into the spirit of things - I have bought a Mother Hubbard dress for wearing to villages, and you don't hear me moaning about how unattractive it is! (Which is actually the whole point - they were designed by missionaries to prevent men from having lewd thoughts, and I'd say they are pretty damn effective.)
So here we are, waiting for a break in the weather to shoot down to New Caledonia, via the Loyalty Islands.