We were more than happy to pay our ‘fee’ by ordering a pizza and a couple of drinks at their beautiful restaurant. While we were doing just that we met Job, a cab driver, at the next table. He was there waiting for his Aussie fares to decide they were done drinking and were ready to go back to town. We talked a bit about what we had been up to and what we were hoping to do in Luganville. He offered to take us out to see some sights and after some back and forth we agreed to hire him for the day after next, when the weather would be the best. He then got on my good side when I mentioned that I liked kava. He did a quick check with the Aussies to make sure they weren’t done being drunk and then walked us to the kava bar behind the resort where we took turns buying each other a shell.
In the meantime, we walked into town with our packs to do some provisioning and suss out how to get to Customs, Immigration and the Port Captain’s office on the day we check out. Job spotted us about two thirds of the way and insisted on giving us a free ride the rest of the distance.
Back at the dinghy, we met a resort guest who was standing on the beach, regarding the Pudgy with interest. We introduced ourselves and immediately caught a Wirral (Liverpool area) accent. He and Maryanne exchanged the secret handshake (She had gone to University there), and soon we were all friends. His name was Ian. He insisted that we join him and his friend Gavin at their cabin for drinks. He said we would be doing them a favor as they had stocked up on way too much Pina Colada mix for the two of them. Well, if we can help out…
We squeezed in some time to snorkel on the wreck in the middle of the anchorage
Ian introduced us to Gavin. Gavin was from Brisbane. They explained that they were each retired bobbies from their respective cities. They had met at some Police convention decades ago, hit it off and have been going on holidays together ever since to places in which their wives or families weren’t interested. Gavin had been to Vanuatu before, but it was Ian’s first time. He kept expressing amazement that we had sailed all of the way there and seemed genuinely impressed with our accomplishments. He laughed for nearly a full minute when we told him we had spent a Winter in Preston. Gavin just thought we were nuts, but he kept prodding us for more stories.
Our Pina Colada glasses were the magic ones that never go below half full, so I think we may have had a little over one and a half each. I remember getting home, but I don’t remember how.
The next day, Job came to pick us up for our day tour and graciously allowed us to bring Ian along. We started with a round of all of the offices we needed to visit to check out. Since we had picked up the forms earlier, all we had to do was run in and drop them off. Then we headed to a kastom village for a bit of Ni-Van culture.
In the more remote islands of Vanuatu, the older children are sent to boarding school in either Port Vila or Luganville. To make their stay easier, the various islands set up satellite villages near the cities where the kids can stay as well as others coming to the city for visits. Alongside these villages, they set up Kastom Villages where they demonstrate their traditional lifestyle. It was explained that these villages had the dual purpose of allowing visitors to see cultures that are too difficult to travel to and to teach each new generation of villagers the traditional skills of their island. Job was really eager to take us to the villages. He said over and over how much he loved the traditional Ni-Vanuatu life and how proud he was of it and he wanted us to see it too.
It didn’t work out so well for him. The village was not doing anything that day because everybody was at a funeral. Job begged and begged and they agreed to open for us later (… uncomfortable…).
Killing time at $Million point. We had brought along our snorkel gear but it was a bit too churned up in the surf for us to think it worthwhile.
While we killed time, he took us to Million Dollar Point. This was a beach where the American Military dumped a whole load of stuff. It happened after World War II. The American military, which had fortified Vanuatu against a possible Japanese attack, were packing up and leaving. They didn’t have enough room for everything in their ships, so they offered the then-French & British governments the surplus for pennies on the dollar. The local governments figured they would get it all for free when the Americans left, so they refused to pay. When they did this, the Americans drove it all into the sea so no one could have it. The Ni-Vans thought they had all gone mad.
Million Dollar Point may have been more interesting fifty years ago. Now, everything has been there so long that all you can see are rusty lumps covered with marine growth. We all tired pretty quickly of trying to distinguish between boilers, engine blocks and transmissions. What was nearly as interesting was lots of conglomerate with WWII era glass bottles embedded within. Ian decided he wanted a couple of old medicine bottles for his windowsill at home and we all became involved in finding and prying loose the best candidates for him.
That still didn’t eat up enough time, so we just sat at a picnic table looking out at the sea and talking. During the course of the conversation, we were talking about our impressions of Vanuatu when Ian said something I liked very much.
“The Ni-Vans seem like they are all born with smiles on their faces.”
Indeed, they do. I stole a look to the far side of the table at Job. His face was bright white teeth surrounded by a black beard and his eyes sparkled. I’m not sure he had even heard our conversation. From what I’ve seen, he pretty much always looks like that. There was news that some big survey had ranked the Ni-Vanuatu as the happiest people in the world. We didn’t doubt it a bit.
While we were at the beach, another traveler arrived and started up a conversation with us. Her name was Wilma. She was from Holland. She had retired a few years ago and was backpacking around the world herself like a college dropout. When she leaves Vanuatu, she will be flying to Fiji to sail with Humberto, Vulaga’s adopted cruiser. Small world.
We invited her to join us for our trip to the village, which was probably more than Job’s economy car cab could handle. We scraped bottom on almost every pothole. Most of the roads off the main highway were more pothole than road, so we cringed with guilt every time the car hit bottom. We offered to get out and walk through some of the worst bits, but Job wouldn’t have it.
A tour of Beterihi Cultural Park, and old WWII USA military base with the caretaker and character Aime Ruvua
There was a little bit more delay at the village as people were rounded up for our demonstration. We were given a bit of history and then were shown around traditional dwellings with time taken out to explain one item or another. A teenage boy arrived and showed us how to start a fire without matches. The trick, they tell us, is to keep the two pieces of wood inside by the fire pit at all times so they stay nice and dry for the next attempt.
This kid could do his fire-starting thing as a gag. “Hey, I want to start a fire. I think there are some matches on the shelf over there. Could you bring them to me?”
Rube goes over to shelf to get matches, finds them and then turns to see the kid holding a flaming ball of coconut fibers.
”Nevermind. I got it.”
The boy lit a fire from nothing in twenty seconds - Smoke in ten seconds, a fist full of fire in twenty.
Leweton Cultural Experience, Kastom Village
We were then given a sample of a typical breakfast, handed over from the fire. After my last traditional dining experience, I was a little skittish, but it turned out to be very simple and delicious with grated coconut and some roast potatoes and bananas. I could have eaten a whole serving bowl of that stuff.
The Grand Finale was the Water Music. I had no idea what to expect from a bunch of women slapping water, but it was incredible! The leader explained to us that they were going to demonstrate five different sounds. Then they started. Had I not been looking at them, I would have sworn we were listening to a group of drummers. In fact, I even had a look around to see if someone might be slipping in a little background drumming to enhance the effect, but it was just the four women in the water. They were doing bass and snare, cymbals and high hat all by themselves. Water was flying everywhere, as if we were all sat by an energetic fountain. The women turned their heads aside in a completely fruitless attempt to keep their faces dry.
Amazing Water Music - a Unique Vanuatu Cultural experience
When they finished their first sound, we all exploded in applause. They smiled their Ni-Vanuatu smiles while water dripped from their hair. We got way more than four more demos. They went through a long repertoire and even continued by themselves after we left. Even though I watched them intently the whole time, I still couldn’t figure out how they made that whole range of sound from just hands and water. I was trying to mimic the motion, when one of them showed me the trick to the bass was to hit the water with your thumbs. How does that work? I wanted to try it, but I wasn’t in the mood to get drenched, so it may be a while before I know.
We dropped Wilma off at her hostel and then Ian, Maryanne and I returned to the Beach Resort to fill Gavin in on our day. He’s a bit of a slow listener, so it took us several beers to tell him the story. He kept making it worse by sneaking off and buying a round even though we explained that the last of our Vatu would only be worth anything until we got in the dinghy. We had already cleared out and were enjoying our last twenty-four hours in Vanuatu before it was time to go. That meant we had to buy the next round to get rid of our Vatu currency. Oh, how we suffer.
Those guys are so great. We felt like we had known them a lot longer than three days. We parted with big hugs and wishes for a safe journey all around. We hope we get a chance to see them again someday.
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