Last month ended with a hasty departure from our anchorage at Gaua Island after a tsunami warning triggered by an earthquake of the Samoas. The new spot was in the village of Port Sola, Vanua Lava, the government centre for the Banks Island group at the north end of Vanuatu. The village was a slightly gloomy and depressing place with dirty water, many dilapidated concrete buildings (more cyclone resistant, but they are ugly and do not decay as gracefully as houses made of natural fibres) and permanent cloud cover while we were there. But a visit to the customs office was compulsory. As in many other Pacific islands, moving between different areas of an island group requires customs formalities to be completed. A little tiresome, but it gives the officers something to do and they are nice guys, ready for a chat.

While in Port Sola, we were able to assist the local democratic process. One of the locals wished to be a candidate for a local government post. To be eligbible, one has to complete an application form and attach a couple of passport sized photos. This is a tricky requirement in a remote village where no-one has a camera, let alone printing facilities or a photo booth. However, we were able to fire up our digital camera, laptop computer and printer and produce the required photographs.

Letelwut Bay, Vanua Lava

Brian, Rose & Family

The next stop was Letelwut Bay on the north of Vanua Lava where we needed to ask permission from the traditional landowners of some off-lying reef islands we wanted to visit. These northern islands are remote, harder to reach and not often visited so the greetings when a 'yachtie' (as we are known by the locals) arrives are all the warmer. Here we received the full 'kastom' (Bislama for 'custom' or 'traditional', see below for a description of 'the Bislama' language) treatment with garlands, songs and speeches by our greeters, Brian, Rose and their children. They passed the news that the volcano we had walked up the previous Sunday in Gaua had started to erupt three days after our visit and the Gaua islanders were suffering from the sulphurous emissions.

They then took us around the village to introduce us to the chief (for permission to anchor in the bay and the reef islands and to visit the village). We were then given a proud, guided tour of the village, the school and the church which was being renovated with a chainsaw for a visit by the Bishop that afternoon. We were serenaded throughout the visit by Cliff, Brian's brother, who strummed local tunes and blues numbers on the remaining four strings of his much repaired guitar, occasionally doing Jimi Hendrix impressions as he played behind his head.

Reef Islands

Angus spotting the reefs

Our next stop was at a classical group of isolated low lying reef islands. The approach required the standard cruiser trick of shinning up the mast with a pair of polaroid sunglasses to spot the reefs. The vista was jaw droppingly beautiful as we got closer, even Ruth was persuaded to take a few steps up the mast to have a look. The anchor could be easily seen in 10 metres of crystal clear water seen as it set into a white sandy plain leaving us bobbing quietly in a perfect blue sea under a cloudless blue sky. Wow.

The next four days days were spent in idyllic snorkelling admiring and photographing the wide range of fishlife (not the coral which was mostly dead - as usual). As no-one lived on the few sandy islets, there was little fishing the sealife was abundant and of a good size. We managed to spot a few more new species from Ruth's Reef Fish book.

We had one distant neighbour, Marc, a young (35 counts as young to us now) French man who made his living with underwater photography with some very professional looking equipment that made our little digital camera in a plastic bag look very sorry. We had an opportunity to admire some of his work when he invited us to lunch to help eat a tuna he had caught on his way into the anchorage. You can see some of his efforts at www.photo-sousmarine.com.

Saddled butterfly fish

One morning during our stay, we started to feel the boat shuddering - Oh Lordy, another earthquake (see the update in August for our previous one). We were now familiar with the drill, turn on the radio and shut all the hatches and doors. We felt that the anchorage had good holding and was sufficiently deep to avoid the amplifying effects of land on any tsunami waves so we decided to stay put and ride out anything that happened. Initially, there were no tsunami warnings on the radio which was a good sign. During the morning we felt several more shudders but otherwise felt no ill-effects. Gradually, warnings of a small 20 cm tsunami were issued on the radio (and we heard afterwards were experienced by islanders in the area) but we noticed nothing untoward. Marc, who was in the water at the time of the first rumbling, saw the rocks quaking and felt uncomfortably strong shockwaves and so vacated the water rapidly. We understand that the earthquakes were quite strong at the epicentre (7.3) but were horizontal movements rather than vertical so did not trigger much sea movement.

The natural event score in the south west Pacific was beginning to mount impressively with

Blue striped snapper

• The earthquake off the Samoas
• Followed by the tsunami
• Earthquakes in Sumatra
• Cyclones in the Philippines and Japan
• The Gaua volcano erupting
• Our morning of earthquakes to make us feel included.

We are in a lively area.

And for those of you with broadband, here is a short video of the approaches to the reef islands.

Ureparapara Island

Ureparapara Island

The next stop was Ureparapara island, an impressive place consisting of a 760 metre high extinct conical volcano with a crater down to sea level which had blown out a narrow section on one side leaving a deep natural harbour. We tried a few photographs of the place but the permanent cloud cap over the surrounding hills give it a gloomy aspect and our efforts did not do the place justice.

2m wide Spotted Eagle Rays

The local chief and his family gave us a warm welcome and we spent some time with them chatting about local issues. The Vanuatu government does not really reach these parts and they get little support with a cargo vessel visiting only once a year. The price of copra, from which they used to make a little money, has dropped through the floor, so they have very limited income. Other that what they grow or make on the island, most of their external support comes from the visiting yachties who bring in a limited amount of trading with tools, batteries, sugar, matches, cookware, clothing etc being exchanged for fruit, vegetables and hospitality.

A nice bonus from the island was full water tanks. We had not seen serious rain for a couple of months and our tanks were getting a little low. In accordance with our 'keep it simple' (and cheap) approach we do not have a watermaker (a device for converting seawater to fresh, money into spare parts and keeping you in port awaiting the arrival of the spares for the blessed device) but we have plenty of tanks and methods of catching rain. During one wet, breezy night, we managed to fill all the tanks, the spare water cans, shower bags and have a good wash - all in a couple of hours.

A visit by a mermaid

We spent the following damp, grey day with the Chief and his family. I fixed one of his lights and failed to repair his TV which had succumbed to the usual fate of electronics in tropical islands of humidity and insects. Sadly, it had produced a loud fizz and a cloud of smoke at its demise and there was not much that could be done with the resources available. Ruth received some training in island cooking by the Chief's wife while she cooked supper for us for that evening.

During our previous conversations, they had shown much interest in where we had come from and our previous careeers, so we put on a slide show on our laptop PC for a large crowd in the Chief's house culminating a video of island life in the Orkneys from the Orkney Tourist Board. The audience showed much interest in the fishing, houses, landscape, weather and the effects of the northern latitudes on day lengths in the summer and winter.

After the show, the Chief and his wife produced a good supper of fish, rice and laplap. Mention laplap to a cruiser who has visited the area and watch them go pale green. It is a grey, shapeless concoction of mashed root vegetables that normally has little apparent taste and an unpleasantly slimy, rubbery texture and is generally swallowed whole with a fixed grin by tourists. It is one of the staples for the islanders and will invariably be produced for visitors whatever else has been promised. On this occasion, it was a most palatable sweet potato version that was almost pleasant. As is also usual, we ate alone at the table while the family stood around and watched, a bit uncomfortable initially but you get used to it.

Twin Waterfall Bay

Twin Waterfall Bay

The next stop was Twin Waterfall Bay on the east coast of Vanua Lava where eponymous waterfalls would allow us to catch up on a month of laundry. Chief Kerely, the boss man here, was a dynamic individual. He conducted a thorough 'kastom' welcome with speeches, a song by the family and himself (to the tune of 'God Save the Queen') and culminating in a detailed brief on what facilities were available, how the locals should behave towards us and how we should behave when in the area.

We had long an interesting conversations about the balance of maintaining traditions in changing times and the guidance of the growing children and teenagers. To Ruth's delight, his wife and daughter had a nice line in elegant, pointy hexagonal baskets for trading.

The Chiefs put the world to rights

We were able to assist with his Yacht Club by giving a little administrative support with our laptop and printer. He had put a lot of thought and initiative into his Yacht Club. As mentioned by Ruth last month, the Vanuatu Government urges villages to erect huts for yacht clubs (for yachties) and bungalows (for land visitors) as a way of getting money through tourism. As the government does not appear to give much guidance on how to run a business, these facilities seem to be little used. Chief Kerely's club was in a different league, with furniture, flags from several nations and sailing clubs and many entries in the visitors book. We are now officially life members of the yacht club, and for the privilege of joining we were awarded a pleasant lunch of fish, prawns, wild yam laplap with coconut cream and for pudding, papaya with lime, all at 9am on the day of our departure, just after our breakfast.

The laundry was succesfully completed over two days, although a brisk breeze set some clothing free from the washing lines requiring me to do a rapid striptease and dive off the back to recover the articles before they sank far into the depths. back to the waterfall for a second visit.

While in the bay, we witnessed one sight of which we had heard but never seen, the rising of the Palolo worms. These are larvae which rise out of the coral reefs for a spawning festival at night in the waning moon of October and November. The sea surface was covered in a carpet of the pale creatures who would accumulate around any light. A rare sight.

Southbound.

By this stage, we were getting a little island happy and the continual round of rolly anchorages, social interactions and renewals with family histories and careers being swapped with canoe visitors hanging off the back of the boat was beginning to get tiring. We needed a break. Additionally, the cyclone season was approaching and we needed to be heading south. So we set sail for Oyster Island on Santo were there were rumours of a flat calm anchorage, no canoe borne visitors to bump the paint, a slow but free internet connection (to upload September's website update) and best of all, our French friends Bruno and Catherine on the yacht Nosy Bé. We spent two days swapping news, gossip, technical tips and gastronomic delight meals (a peppered beef stew from them and a Balti pumpkin curry from us).

A Fresh Water Blue Hole

A pleasant interlude was a trip up a nearby river to a 'Blue Hole'. These are eyecatching freshwater filled holes in the limestone rock of the islands where the underlying freshwater has welled up over the centuries and created deep pit bit full of the clearest water which has a strong blue tint reminiscent of the offshore coral reefs. They are slightly alarming to swim in as, being used to the buoyancy of salt water, we tended to unexpectedly sink.

Sarunda Bay to Port Vila

The sound of more festivals was calling us back to Port Vila and with the approaching cyclone season, we need to start thinking about moving on. After a week of strong winds which prevented us from moving but allowed a bunch of small jobs to be completed, we set off for a three day wet beat back into the trade winds to Port Vila. Ruth will report on the festivals next month.

Bislama Lesson

The locals in Vanuatu have the highest language density in the world with 113 scattered throughout the archipelago amongst the clans and tribes. Tanna, a small island of 20 miles by 10 miles has 30 languages alone. As a result, most Vanuatans would put the average British to shame as they often speak three or four languages fluently. In addition to their own clan language, they will speak a rather charming universal langauge called Bislama and English or French (often both). To keep it simple, Bislama has few words and no tenses, so an amount of creativity is required convey concepts. Recognisable English words are strung together often with 'blong' indicating possesion) or 'long' (taking the place of most prepositions - with, at, to, on, etc). Spelling is vaguely phonetic - think of a thick South Pacific accent as you read some examples.

Women blong mi long titibasket

• What is your name? - Wanem nem blong yu?
• My name is.. - Nam blong mi..
• How are you? - Yu orait?
• Goodbye - Tata
• See you later - Lukimyu afta
• Wife - Women blong mi
• Bra - Titibasket
• Rainy season - Taim i rain
• Silence - yu no toktok
• Womb - Basket blong pikinini
• Damage - Baggerap
• Someone you don't like - Wan krangke man
• Piano - Wan bigfala bokis - i gat tith. Sam i waet, sam i blak. Taim yu killem i singaot. (A big box with teeth, some white, some black, when you hit him, it sings out)
• Violin - Wan smal sista bigfala bokis, taim yu scratchem belli i kri (Small sister of the big box, when you scratch its belly, it cries)
• Helicopter - Mixmaster blong Jesus Christ

Giant Pirate repelling devices

Culinary Delights

Fruit and vegetables are the topics of the month for this section. In Letelwud Bay, we asked to trade for two snake beans which are cucumber like vegetables, normally around 50 cm long and 10 cm in diameter. Not here - Rose produced two of the most enormous vegetables we have ever seen. We managed to eat about half of one before giving up and presenting the rest to the fish.

The second win of the month was the first pinapple and mangoes of the season straight from the plants. Again, the pineapple was the biggest we have ever seen and tasted fantastic. It will be a sad day when we have to eat the sorry contents of a tin of pineapples again.

The mangoes were a little fibrous being from wild trees but the taste was an explosion of fruity sensations.

What Broke

This month, our trusty single side band radio started acting oddly. It is still working currently, but if it breaks, we will be bereft as it is our main link with the outside world, receiving emails, weatherfaxes, news and chat. I think I know the problem (SSBs are partially science and partially black magic) but we cannot fix it until we reach Australia. So if we go quiet, don't panic.

Next month

Australia, with luck