What a month. Not only have we attended a "Back to My Roots" cultural festival on a remote island, we have also managed to satisfy Ruth's long held desire to stand on an active volcano by visiting not one but two within a fortnight.

Volcano No.1

A Port Vila electrical sub-station

We had hoped to visit Tanna, one of the southerly islands with an active volcano during our trip from New Caledonia to Vanuatu in July. However, to Ruth's distress, strong winds prevented us from entering the only safe anchorage and we had to sail by having passed within a couple of miles of the bay and carry on to Efate Island. Tanna is 130 miles to the south east of Efate, directly into the strong trade winds making a return trip difficult and uncomfortable. Having spent a couple of weeks in Efate, there was a brief 24 hour wind shift in the forecast which would allow an easier return trip to Tanna. As this was a rare opportunity, we seized the chance and set off back to the south east. The Vanuatu Meteorological Service were spot on and we had an easy overnight ride back to Tanna as the winds clocked around the compass to north, then west and south. Right up until the last 10 miles when they resumed their usual south easterly direction giving us a good pasting for the final leg into Port Resolution where Captain Cook once anchored during his explorations.

Dusk at the Tanna Volcano

Having made contact with the locals to arrange a visit to the volcano, we set off during to late afternoon in the back of a truck. As a concession for tourists, we were issued with huge cushions to insulate our behinds from the jolts transmitted through the wooden benches. Unfortunately, the cushions were so big, that it felt like you were going to bounce off the cushion, right over the side of the truck. It truly was a white knuckle ride, hanging on to the rail round the edge of the truck. The road was bare earth, and surprisingly smooth. The driver's speed was kept in check by the frequent cows and pigs which wandered across the track. Arriving before sunset allowed us to see the lie of the land before the night time fireworks commenced.

Night time fireworks at the Tanna Volcano

We arrived below the rim of the crater just as the sun began to set. As we walked the few hundred meters up to the rim, we felt the first of the earth shaking rumbles which preceded the eruptions. What an experience. We spent a couple of hours sitting on the rim, looking down into the crater, watching the most incredible firework display. There was a continual red glow from the crater, with regular low spits of lava into the air. But then....

Every 20 mins or so, you hear a huge "khhhaaaaabooooommm", and are hit by the shock wave of hot sulphurous air. A fountain of glowing red spinning cow pats of molten rocks erupts into the air, followed by the blossoming of a dense black cloud. In the darkness, all you can hear are the soft "plops" as the lava drops back to earth. Once the cloud clears, you see the black ash of the crater is studded with ruby red rocks. Wow! At this point, two thoughts pass through your mind:

1 - Rats, I forgot to press 'record' on the camera

2 - Glad I wasn't here in 1995 when the two tourists were flattened by flying lava....

Despite the deaths, there are no safety barriers, no hard hats, no lights marking the way back down the cone to safety. The only safety feature seemed to be the fact that the trucks were parked pointing down hill, ready for a fast getaway. Back in the risk averse first world, I am pretty sure that no-one would be allowed anywhere near the volcano.

Visitors to Do It

Port Resolution itself was a thought provoking place. There are a few villages around the bay, but the one closest to the anchorage is the main point of contact for the cruisers. We had several visits from young men in dug-out canoes - mostly looking to trade. That sounds very quaint until you realise that they are looking to trade fruit and vegetables for DVDs and cigarettes. We never trade cigarettes, sweets or alcohol, but have previously traded DVDs. As we spent time looking around the village, we questioned whether it is right to introduce images of the unachievable material wealth which is portrayed in many movies. The village is composed of a series of family settlements around a 'village green'. The small huts are built of local wood and woven pandanus leaves or palm fronds. The floors are compacted earth, and the beds are woven pandanus mats. Water is obtained from a well using a hand pump. However, on the green, there is a mobile phone transmitter. Many lads asked us to charge their mobile phones for them, and one asked for petrol so they would have electricity to watch DVDs. Is all progress good?

Another unsettling encounter was with a young lad in a canoe. Ruth had asked if many turtles came into the bay. Yes, he replied, yummy! How should one reply to that? Ruth would love to be a one woman environmental campaign, but we are visitors and is a small amount of non-industrial harvesting for local consumption - as has been going on for hundreds of years - so wrong. Maybe one has to live a little longer with the villagers to appreciate how they live.

Vanuatu Pet

On the day after the volcano visit, we decided to walk across the peninsula to Turtle Bay. We had read that it was always polite to ask if you can walk anywhere, so stopped by the family compound of our guide from the previous night to ask permission. His sister immediately set aside her weaving and insisted on showing us the way. She spent the entire morning walking with us, making the walk far more interesting by pointing out all the produce growing in the "gardens". Some of these areas of cleared bush were recognisable as allotments, with ordered rows of casava, taro and yams, however, some looked like the native bush was winning the battle. Marion's garden was definitely in need of a few hours of weeding - the volcanic soil is obviously extremely fertile, for weeds as well as crops. We have seen branches cut off trees and stuck in the ground for fence posts which have started to take root and sprout. She insisted on loading us down with yam, taro and pak choi - and also a bunch of beautiful flowers which proved to be harbouring an interesting collection of insects. In return we took her out to the boat for a cup of coffee and provided some goodies for the school where she was a teacher. Again, we were reminded that islanders have an incredibly sweet tooth - the only limit to the amount of sugar that goes into a mug, is how much sugar is in the pot.

The day before we were due to depart, we were visited again by a couple of lads who had asked if we could take them up to Port Vila when we left. Another tricky situation. Yes we have space. It doesn't cost us anything to take them. But.... There is much urban migration from the rural islands - the living conditions in parts of Port Vila looked much poorer than those in the village of Port Resolution, but to a young lad, the lure of the bright lights must be strong. We asked if their father was happy for them to go up to Port Vila - one looked shifty, the other assured us that his father would bring him out to Do It at 8am the next day. By 9am the following morning, there was no sign of either lad, so we headed north back to Port Vila on Efate. I wonder if they slept in or were persuaded to stay?

Ruth ready to party in her new 'Mother Hubbard' dress

Port Vila

Back in Port Vila for some shopping and a big event. The shopping was the purchase by Ruth of a local 'Mother Hubbard' dress worn by many Vanuatu ladies. An experienced cruising couple had recommended buying one as it would change the way the islanders would treat you. The big event was Angus' 50th birthday. Ruth excelled herself by not only cooking three fruit birthday cakes, but also arranging a wonderful meal in a Vietnamese restaurant.

The time had come to head north. There was to be a festival on the island of Ambrym and rumour was that it should not be missed. It was to a celebration of the local animistic culture which is still strongly retained in parallel with the recently arrived Christian religion.

Ambrym Island

We arrived at the Nebul village anchorage on Ambrym in the late afternoon, and slotted in on the outside of the pack of yachts - all here for the festival. We had planned to meet up with two yachts - Nosy Bé and Grace. We originally met Bruno and Catherine on the French boat Nosy Bé in Fiji, and got along very well with them. Down in Whangarei in April, we met Sally and Geoff on Grace, who also knew Nosy Bé. Until this week, the three crews have never all met together. There is a very good chemistry between all the crews - it is possible for every pairing of the six people to sit and enjoy a chat together. Often the cruising wives may mesh, but the husbands don't, or vice versa.

As the three crews were bonding over a cup of tea and a slice of Angus' birthday cake, a dinghy pulled alongside with the crew of Galileo, a yacht which we had last seen in Ecuador. We had met them in Panama, and they also visited Quito at the same time as us, but we lost touch as they headed down to Chile when we crossed the Pacific. Good as it is to be able to organise meetings via email, it is almost better when they happen serendipitously.

A village head, Chief Sekon in traditional dance regalia

The next day, we dinghied ashore with our long lost friends to pay our respects to the local village chief, Chief Masin (who was dressed in modern shorts and T shirt, not traditional regalia), and to find out where and when the festival would be taking place. We are not the only cruisers who make the effort to engage with the local people, but sadly the majority of people do not. In Vanuatu, the culture is much more traditional than in many of the more frequented cruising spots such as French Polynesia and Tonga. Here, the local village owns all the land, beaches, reefs and seabed - so wherever you anchor, you are anchoring on their property. As such, cruisers should go ashore and pay their respects to the village chief. It isn't a question of giving money or goods, but literally paying respect. During our chat with the chief and the schoolmaster, they invited the gentlemen of our group to partake in some kava. Angus has drunk some of this brew previously in Fiji, however, rumour was that the Vanuatu beverage was considerably more powerful. So it proved. Eight bowls of the Fiji juice had little effect other than a numb feeling in the mouth like a dental anaesthetic. Two bowls of the Ambrym kava was enough so send Angus reeling back to the boat for a quiet evening.

Ruth kicking up her heels in her new 'Mother Hubbard' dress

Ruth wore her island dress, and it went down extremely well with the village ladies. She had been concerned that the local ladies may have thought that she was not sincere, that she was having fun imitating them. However, she continued to wear the dress every day during the festival (it was well patterned and concealed the dust and sweat) and subsequently heard from the chief that the locals commented favourably on the dress during the festival.

The following morning, we walked the 3 miles to where the festival would take place in a ceremonial clearing. Benches had been set up for the visitors - there were around 25-30 yachts in the bay by now - plus the very few "real" tourists who manage to make it to north Ambrym. Without a yacht, you have to fly from Port Vila to West Ambrym, then charter a fishing boat to take you up the coast - a long, wet, expensive ride.

The clearing was backed by dense vegetation, and a line of tam-tams - the local drums. These are made from massive logs which have been hollowed out via a long narrow slit, and topped with carved heads similar to those seen on Easter Island wooden carvings. Traditionally the drums are used for communication between the villages - given the terrain, we can understand why you would use the drums.

Rom Dance, partly a thanksgiving, partly to appease the spirits

The dance performances could be described as "stomping or hopping in a community huddle" followed by much hawking and sitting in the clouds of dust raised. Very different to the Polynesian dances which are very much directed to an audience. The traditional dress was novel - "nambas". This is a wide belt to which a penis sheath is attached. Ruth has never seen so many scrota in her lifetime. The ladies wore grass skirts and nothing else.

On each of the three days there were various dances performed - which to be honest, were fairly indistinguishable to us. The music was purely a beat from the tam-tam, accompanied by singing. The festival was put on by the locals for the locals, and was an important series of ceremonies for them. The dances and songs were all performed for a reason, not all of which were apparent to the visitors, but we could feel the formidable atmosphere of the event and reverence given by the islanders in the audience. Looking back at our movie clips today, it does look like something from a National Geographic feature.

The promotion platform

One of the events was the promotion of various chiefs to the next grade. This was an entertaining ceremony that even we could appreciate. The candidates had to stand on top of a platform so that their peers could have one last chance to express their views on their suitability by throwing objects at them prior to the candidate's elevation. This demonstration was conducted with much laughing using a variety of weapons including fruit, vegetables, coconuts or if you really did not like them, rocks. After the ceremony, they were now of a higher rank and therefore untouchable.

The most controversial feature of the festival was the daily sacrifice of a pig. Ambrym is considered to be home of the most serious magic in Vanuatu, and the sacrifice of pigs is an integral part of their beliefs. We witnessed a ceremony where two local chiefs were promoted from being level 5 chiefs, to being level 6 chiefs. This wasn't a stunt put on for tourists, but rather a "real" social ceremony, which required two pigs to be killed using a ceremonial pig killing club. On the first day, Ruth pulled down her hat and stuck her fingers in her ears. This was insufficient, so on the second day, she left the clearing. This was just as well, for this event, several chiefs had to participate in the killing resulting in the unfortunate animal suffering a slow and unpleasant death.

The Ladies Dance

Several visitors subsequently provided "feedback" to the local chief that they think the sacrifices are cruel and should not be performed in front of guests. The "festival" here is not a performance put on for the pleasure of tourists, but rather an invitation for tourists to witness traditional ceremonies. One cruiser put it very well - the pigs here have a great life, roaming free in the bush, but some come to a rather brutal end. The pigs in commercial farms in the west have a miserable life but a humane end. Which is better?

Sadly, the festival organisers felt they had to change their festival, the Vanuatans are a quiet, shy people who do not want to cause offence, and the pig for the third day was taken away into the bush for its end. Is this a benefit of tourism?

Here is a short video of the event.

On the final night, the cruisers were invited to an Island Night at the village by the anchorage. There was an amazing spread of food - including, roast pork (few seemed to have qualms about tucking into that...), and fish heads in coconut milk. The finale of the evening was a firework display for the locals - to which a few cruisers added their out of date flares. Lovely idea, except for the fact that the red parachute flares came drifting down amongst the anchored yachts. One dropped literally 5m from Do It, and continued burning as it sank. Another time when we were glad we had a metal boat.

Volcano No. 2

Marum Volcano, Ambrym

Ruths volcano fetish had not quite been satisfied, she had not seen a real, live pool of lava. We read that it was possible to climb the local volcano whilst we were anchored in Nebul, but learnt that the volcano would be 'tabu' from 1 September - the volcano must be allowed peace to rest, thus ensuring a good yam harvest. We managed to organise a trip immediately after the festival, along with our friends on Nosy Bé, and so set off for the beach at 6am. A short but extremely lumpy ride in the back of a pickup truck took us as far as Ranon, where the road runs out. I use the word "road" in it's loosest form. From there, we hopped into a small fishing boat for the final few miles down to Ranvetlam and the start of the hike. There, we were assigned our guide - a lovely 20 year old girl, dressed in flip flops and a skirt, called Ruth.

We set off from sea level at 7.30, steadily climbing up through the village gardens, into the bush and finally onto the ash plain. Walking along the ash "rivers" is similar to walking along a freshly gritted road, and would have been hell on a clear sunny day. We were blessed by cloud and a bit of drizzle - a sure sign that our offerings of wild cane had been accepted by the volcano. Eventually we reached the end of the plain and started the scramble up the dry riverbed, then onto the razor-back ridges leading to the rim of the crater. By our arrival at the summit at 12:30, the sky had cleared. We, lugging our back packs with essential equipment (raincoats, first aid kit, food, water, cameras, insect repellent, sunglasses, pocket knife compass, etc) were clumping along in our heavy boots and sweating by the time we reached the top. Ruth (the guide), with her mobile phone, small bottle of water and a bannana, looked like she had strolled down the high street.

Marum Volcano lava pool

The view that greeted us was absolutely stunning. The outside of the cone was black ash, but inside the massive caldera was a geologist's dream - bands of red, black, white and grey, sometimes in gentle swirls, in other places shattered vertical streaks of white. The sheer scale was overwhelming - and when we peeked over the edge and saw molten lava bubbling in the heart of the volcano.

The return to sea level took another 4 hours, and was even harder than the ascent. We both suffered from bad damage to our unprepared feet from our hiking boots. We made it to Ranvetlam as the sun began to set, and discovered our boat was no longer waiting for us... would we mind walking to Ranon. Not a hope with our distressed feet, so we sat and watched the sun set, and lo, the boat reappeared. The cane offering worked well. All in all, it was a truly amazing day.

And to prove we were there, here is a video of our visit to the volcanoes .

Al Fresco dining on Marum Volcano. The two Ruths and the Nosy Bés

Culinary Delights

No new food this month unless you count the vietnamese meal. However, our picnic on the edge of an active volcano does stand out in our mind.

Next month

Ever north towards the Banks and Torres islands in north Vanuatu.