The most interesting thing was when Maryanne got a notification about a volcanic eruption of Marum, one of the two volcanoes on the island of Ambae. We were sailing right by it then and, sure enough, a big cloud of ash was billowing from the furthest cone. I was just starting to wonder how concerned we should be when the whole event ceased as quickly as it had started.
Ash cloud from Marum as we pass
At the far end of our sail, we rounded the north end of Gaua island (also a volcano), with twenty-five knot winds pushing us along in two-and-a-half-meter swells. As we approached the teeny, tiny anchorage at Matanda Bay, we were worried the conditions would be too rough to get in and we would have to go somewhere else or even skip the stop altogether. Same if someone else already beat us to it.
By the time we rounded the adjacent headland and picked our way through the extensive reefs into Matanda/Vatles Bay, we were on flat water in wind that had been attenuated by the hills to just four knots. We were on a millpond.
As we were inching our way deep into the shallows over the only patch of sand in the bay, a man with a big, bushy beard paddled out to us in a dugout canoe. He introduced himself as Michele, told us he was the chief, and welcomed us to his bay. He then positioned his canoe at the exact spot he said was best to drop our anchor, then backed away a couple of meters so it wouldn't hit him on the way to the sand below.
This is the point where I can be a little bit tetchy about visitors who want to pile on while we're still in a high workload phase, but Michele was very patient as he waited for us to properly finish our faffing and welcome him aboard properly.
Maryanne explained that we were tired from the overnight sail, so we would be taking the rest of the day aboard, but that we would definitely come ashore and catch up with him tomorrow. He left us to enjoy our privacy in this beautiful place and we left him to his.
The next morning, we came ashore for a tour of the village and to meet Michele's wife, Emeth. Her English is not as good as Michele's, so we communicated with her mostly through body language and gestures. She was funny because she came across as two-thirds gracious host and one-third harried spouse at all Michele's requests to bring us something or show us something.
A lovely welcome ashore with a presentation table of fruit and vegetables just for us. Cats, pigs, and chickens wander about. Kyle helps fix an electrical issue, and Maryanne watches and helps Emeth prepare laplap (which we will get to share) and freshly caught bat is being prepared for dinner too. With no grocery store for miles, the locals manage on what they can catch/harvest/grow themselves for the most part.
One thing that Maryanne has expressed an interest in was cooking laplap. Laplap is probably Vanuatu's most traditional dish (It is their national dish). It is essentially a big starchy cake, filled with any ingredients you like, and traditionally cooked in an underground oven constructed on the spot from the cooking fire. Maryanne had been given vague instructions from a few people, but she's Maryanne, she wants details she can write down.
As we arrived at the beach, Emeth was just in up the middle of grating vegetables. Any starch can be used for the dough, like taro, cassava or breadfruit. Today's dough, she explained, was made from potatoes and carrots. Once it was in place, on a bed of banana leaves, she sprinkled it liberally with coconut cream and then decorated it with tomatoes and spring onions. The end result looked like a giant Margherita pizza.
Emeth then wrapped the whole thing up in several more layers of banana leaves, then tied the bundle up with some stripped banana leaf stalks, like the whole thing was a big, eco-friendly package ready to go to the post office.
Next comes preparation of the oven. For an hour or so, the fire has been burning, with several fist-sized stones nestled among the embers. Using a pair of big tongs fashioned from a stalk of bamboo, Emeth carefully decamped all the burning wood to a second fire pit to use for boiling pots, etc. Then she and Michelle removed most of the stones from the pit. After leveling the remainder with bamboo poles, they each grabbed one end of the laplap package and carefully conveyed it to the pit. Then the rest of the stones were replaced on top, plus judicious layers of banana leaves, palm fronds, and even a couple of burlap sacks for insulation, with a few regular rocks on top to weigh it all down.
An hour and a half later, timing we are told is much more art than science, depending on the size of the laplap and what types of food are inside, it was time to dig out today's meal.
The laplap being prepared. Grated starch vegetables (in this case sweet potato and carrots, but it can be anything: casava, bananas, yams, potatoes, etc) combine with coconut cream to make the dough/paste which is then pressed into shape, and toppings of your choice added (in our case tomatoes and sliced spring onions). The cats, chickens and pigs all seem happy to eat the coconut pulp left over from making the coconut cream.
We leave the laplap cooking while we get a tour of the family village
The dark green parcel was now a crisp blonde. As Emeth unwrapped it and started slicing the laplap into square pieces, curiosity got the best of me and I snuck over to poke one of the stones to see how hot it was. It was still pretty hot two hours after the fire was removed. I didn't burn myself or anything, but I wouldn't have been able to pick one up.
Laplap cooked and made ready to serve
I was really surprised when it came time to collect our proffered portions. We could barely stand to touch the pieces, and then only by the corners by alternating hands rapidly. Then there was lots of mad blowing to get it cool enough to even think about bringing to our lips. I had not expected that. For some reason, I had thought the food would be a little on the north side of lukewarm, not crispy and steaming.
It soon became apparent that, rather than observing the normal daily laplap preparation, this one seems had been prepared especially for us as an extra mid-day one.
Uh oh. Our only other experience with laplap, during our 2019 visit to the Norsup company town on Malakula, was not a good one. That one was probably made from cassava flour and was filled with whole, unboned fish. To say it was revolting doesn't do it justice. We could pick at a piece offered for us to share a taste, but how were we going to deal with politely refusing half a laplap if we don't like it? {Maryanne, I'd had some plain laplap back in Sangalai and liked it, it is pretty bland really, think dumpling, but that one we tried at Norsup was impossible to finish}.
We'll never know, we didn't have to refuse anything after the first taste. Emeth's laplap was delicious. It turned out to taste nothing like a Margherita pizza. Instead, it was like eating a savory muffin, right out of the oven. Right out... Yow! After eating our half, Emeth wrapped up the rest in new banana leaves for us to take home. Brilliant! Dinner is sorted and I can do the dishes by chucking them off the back. At some point Maryanne plans to experiment with cooking it in a pressure cooker and possibly with some healthier substitute to the coconut cream.
The next morning, we presented ourselves at the beach at 06:00 for Michele to guide us on a hike up the volcano. With him ahead and his nephew Tony behind, the four of us started the climb.
Since the elevation gain from sea level was going to be more than we have done in one day for months now, Maryanne and I were a little nervous about how we'd fare being led by the much younger men.
It wasn't bad at all. The slope above the village is so moderate and so consistent that after a while, it just felt like walking. We came across another man from the next village, who decided that hiking with was as good as whatever else he was going to do, so he joined us. I was surprised how easily every kilometer and every hundred meter gain (which tended to be at about the same time) passed.
At the top, we were finally able to see over the rim of the crater beyond to Lake Letas, the largest in Vanuatu, and the still-smoking central cone of Mt. Garet. Between us and the lake were several intervening ridges. Michele told us the best view of the lake was on the other side and asked us if we wanted to continue. Oh, yes, please!
Oof! Looking at the altitude profile, it seems like the hard work would be that initial long climb to the high point. Not so! The flat bit at the top between there and the lake is actually a series of lots of really steep climbs and descents through rough terrain.
We had just started a half walking, half skidding descent into the undergrowth when Michele told us to sit and rest a while. Then he and the other two men forged ahead, hacking a tunnel through for us with their machetes. Apparently, we were the first group to use the trail for a while and it needed a little tidying up. At spots where the tunnel opened up into a narrow canyon, like a lane between tall hedgerows, we had amusing moments where we could not see the men ahead and would be following the sound of the whacking. Everything from leaves to whole boughs would briefly appear over the top of the shrubbery, slowly tumbling against a backdrop of blue sky like slain enemy henchmen in a kung fu movie.
After the initial difficult patch stretched into pretty much the whole trail, Maryanne and I started to get a little uncomfortable at the optics of brown natives going to great effort to clear a trail so that she and I could enjoy a stroll in the countryside. At one point, Maryanne said she felt like we should be wearing pith helmets to comply with the uncomfortable stereotype.
The guys, for their part, seemed happy to have something more interesting to do than just boring walking, and spent the whole day smiling and chatting. Everyone in Vanuatu is so good-natured, apart from those two guys in Port Vila. Also, to be fair, we did pay Michele to be our guide for the day, which we definitely needed, because we would never have found the trail without him (in fact he lost the trail himself a few times).
When we finally got to the ridge overlooking the lake, we all plopped down on the grassy slope to enjoy the view and have a well-earned rest. Maryanne and I divided up the last of our store-bought granola bars to the guys, which they seemed to appreciate. Then Michelle dug into his bag and pulled out a container full of banana pancakes that Emeth had made for us earlier, using flour that we had gifted and never expected to be returned in such a delicious way. They only have two ingredients, you'll never guess which ones, and they are delicious. They are definitely going on the regular rotation now, especially since we're in the land of giant bunches of bananas being handed out at each stop.
First view of the lake in the far distance
To get further the guys have hack through this long untended stretch of "trail"
A closer view of the caldera lake - Lake Letas. Next year they are planning to do hikes with camping overnight to allow people to actually reach and swim in the lake, at a more relaxing pace than any attempt to do it all in one day.
And the stroll back down to the bay
The trip back down to the village went much more quickly, with only the occasional need to trim less tidy parts of the trail that were overlooked on the way up. The long descent back to sea level was practically a refreshing stroll, at least until we lost the cooling trade winds as we reentered the steamy jungle.
On the way up, Michele had pointed out the gardens both his and his brother Nelson keep at appropriate altitude zones for each crop. There were zones for vegetables, kava, bamboo, and various woods used for construction. At the last of these, he showed us a big pile of logs he and Nelson had felled and stripped to build a house. Now, on the way down, since they weren't doing much other than walking anyway, each man shouldered a long roof pole to take with them.
I couldn't take it. I insisted that Michele let me help out by giving me one to carry as well. He waved it off as unnecessary, but eventually conceded and allowed me to carry one of the shorter wall posts. Maryanne got him to agree to let her carry a bamboo pole so that he could demonstrate to her how to make a new set of fire tongs for Emeth.
Back at the village, we all added our lumber to the pile there and then returned to Begonia for a quick freshening up before returning to the beach again for kava. As soon as Michele learned I wasn't opposed to the stuff, he had been promising all day to have a batch prepared for us all, to wind down with after our hike.
What a perfect spot for it, too. Their shady beach, with steep, green mountains on each side, and a view of distant Sola Island on the horizon, is a great place to chill while watching shadows bordered by the orange light of sunset slowly crawl up to the canopy above. They even have a litter of adorable kittens who will climb onto your lap and break out in fits of loud purring if given the slightest attention.
After a freshen-up we returned ashore for some kava and good company
The next day, with an aim to working some different muscles, we spent the bulk of our time snorkeling the extensive reefs in the bay. When we were done, we once again returned to the beach to bid farewell to Michele, Emeth, and whoever else might be in attendance at the time. Emeth had spread out a feast of tropical fruit slices for our refreshment. Michele showed us how to cook unripe bananas on the fire for a snack. How did we not know about this before? They taste exactly like baked potatoes. We found a kitten or two to scratch between the ears and even managed to briefly catch one of their chickens, who don't like to cuddle nearly as much as the cats. Then it was time for us to part with hugs for the humans as well and row back to Begonia for a last night in the placid bay.
The nearby snorkelling was much nicer than expected (the close up is of a crown-of-thorns starfish (an unwelcome predator)
We snorkel a LOT - but this was the first time we'd seen coral brooding (protecting their fertalized eggs in arm's reach) - A Clavularia species of coral
On our last night at Gaua we were treated to a couple of kustom magic tricks performed by Michel; the vanishing coconut water, and the sticky seeds "tricks"
Maryanne and I had just finished dinner and were getting ready to turn in when Nelson arrived at Begonia. We had not yet had the pleasure of meeting him, other than through Michele's stories. He had paddled over in his canoe from his village, around the headland, to gift us some laplap made earlier by his wife, as well as a selection of produce from his garden. Word had clearly spread around that we LOVED the laplap. Oh, if you had only come thirty minutes earlier, Nelson, we wouldn't have needed to make dinner after all!
Anchorage location >> On google maps
