Tanna Island, Vanuatu

[Kyle]Even though Port Resolution is not a recognized Port of Entry for Vanuatu, we had applied for and received special permission to clear in there. Since we were a day earlier than the date we had sent on our Advance Notice of Arrival, we figured we would fly or Q flag, take an easy day aboard, and go ashore to meet the officials the next morning when they arrived from Tanna’s main town of Lenakel.

Port Resolution turned out to be a bit busier than we had expected. There were already five other boats there. Two of them were also flying Q flags. Listening to the radio chatter, it became clear that Customs and Immigration were on the way. Since one of the conditions of clearing into Port Resolution was that boats arriving would split the cost of transporting the officials, we made hasty plans to go ashore and present ourselves. As a bonus, Muse arrived and agreed to go clear in as well.

Customs was there, but Immigration was on the way in a different vehicle. Are you telling me they couldn’t come in the same truck?

Anyway, the guy was really nice. He cleared all of the boats in quickly and did me the favor of not asking me to row him to Begonia so he could ransack her for possible contraband. After waiting another hour or so for Immigration, The Customs man said he had just received a text from Immigration saying that no one was coming. We would have to take the two-hour truck ride to Lenakel tomorrow.

Ugh! The whole point of going to the trouble to obtain the special permission to clear in at Port Resolution was so we wouldn’t have to spend a whole day going through the whole Lenakel kerfuffle.

The Customs guy gave us our cruising permit and said we were legal to go ashore now, even without seeing Immigration. Our next order of business was going to be finding Stanley and arranging transport into town.

Stanley is the Tour and Transportation Manager for the Port Resolution Yacht Club. When I say Yacht Club, I mean “Yacht Club”. In place of fine dining under chandeliers, the PRYC is an unassuming place to sit out of the rain under a thatched roof and otherwise open to the elements. Stanley is equally unassuming. We were directed to the village, where we were told to ask around for him. After being pointed this way and that by several people, we came across a bunch of shirtless men standing and laughing in the road. When I said I was looking for Stanley, they all started pointing to each other. Eventually, the guy in bright red basketball shorts admitted that he was the Stanley I was seeking.

Phil (from Muse) and I told him about our need to go to Lenakel to deal with Immigration. Stanley said, “No Problem.” He could take us at 7:00.

”Uh, Is there any chance we could make that a little later?” I was thinking 9:00 or 10:00. 7;00 is basically sunrise. I really needed a lie in.

”No Problem. We will go at 7:15.”

After a bit of back and forth, he explained that he needed to have the truck back in time to drive people to Mt Yasur, Tanna’s volcano, for tours. Back up the time required for the return trip to Lenakel and some time spent running errands there and we pretty much should leave it no later than 7:15. After a little consideration, I decided I was a little worried about having enough time in town, so we settled back on a 7:00 departure. Ouch.

In the meantime, we had a stroll around the village and met some of our first Ni-Vanuatu, as the locals call themselves. The village was a postcard of communal bliss and everybody we met was smiling and friendly. Kids and adults alike sat out chatting and laughing with their friends. Kids played volleyball with soccer balls and soccer with volleyballs (Wilson!!!). Younger kids played with a popular toy I call Wheel and Stick. Everybody seemed like they were leading lives free of the stresses of the busier world at large.

The village at Port Resolution and the two others nearby are beautiful. Most houses are made with bamboo walls and thatched roofs instead of rusty corrugated tin. A few of them even had solar panels, that is to say a portable cell-phone charger laid on top of the thatch. Vanuatu has banned most single-use plastics and so there is almost no litter present. Most of the villagers we talked to are very conscientious about plastic and make a real effort to avoid using it if at all possible. So far, Vanuatu is very pretty.

Village scenes around Port Resolution
Life is simple, folks have plenty of spare time, kids are a priority
The statue is carved from fern trunks and depict a revered ancestor

The next morning, as we were all getting ready to pile into the back of a pickup for the ride to Lenakel, we got word that Immigration was on the way. This changed everything. Now we didn’t have to go to Lenakel. Except that we did. We needed a little more local cash than we had brought, so we needed to go anyway. Then we decided to add SIM cards and a few veggies to our list, so now we were making a whole day of it. When it came time to load up, it quickly became clear that there were more of yachties than space. Since the fare was per person, we decided just Maryanne would go while I stayed behind and did unpleasant boat things, which I had so far managed to avoid.

There was still not enough space, so Maryanne offered to run errands for several of the other boats. Soon, she was bristling with lists and carefully separated piles of cash to exchange. It was decided she would go into Lenakel with Immigration, and then find space for the trip back in the regular truck.

Immigration arrived and stamped our passports and those of a few others, including Muse’s. Then Maryanne was whisked off, leaving us all behind.

Phil and I decided to ease into our boat jobs with an exploratory walk to a nearby black sand beach. We didn’t find it. We ended up on a white sand beach where we were able to walk along and have a long chat about manly things like transmission seals and electrical connectors, not at all about our feelings or what the other boat husbands have been up to.

Maryanne arrived. She got lucky and got a much more comfortable seat inside the cab of the truck. She was greeted as a returning hero as she doled out SIM cards and multi-colored wads of Vatu, the local currency.

Maryanne gets her first view of Mt Yasur and the ash plains on route to the main town of Lenakel

Plenty of fresh fruit and veg available in town

The forecast was for low clouds and intermittent rain for the next couple of days. We agreed with Stanley to hold off on the volcano tour for the time being and just focus on wandering around the local area.

We wandered through the villages and along the beaches and spent some time between showers visiting other boats. We ended up at the center of a collision between two rallies going in opposite directions. Boats were arriving in twos and threes every few hours. By the evening of our third day, there were twenty-three boats anchored in Port Resolution. On one of our long walks with Muse, we were looking down on the bay from above and Phil remarked that we looked like an invasion fleet.

We ended up at the village on the far side of the bay, where we met a bunch of Ni-Vanuatu on the beach. This village is nearest to Mt Yasur and is at the end of a line of hot springs emanating from the volcano. We were met by a woman there who introduced herself as Fina and offered to arrange a hike up the cliffs behind to see some steam vents and some bubbling mud for 1,000Vatu (~$9). Yes, please! She fetched her teenage son Jackson, and introduced him as our guide.

Visiting the vents and springs to the NW of anchorage
Our Guide Jackson and his Mother and little brother

Before we left though, we asked to see the hot spring on the beach that uncovers at low tide. It was surrounded by a group of villagers who were busy cooking their lunches in the hot water. Fina plucked a sweet potato out of the pool with a stick and handed it to us (Hot potato! Hot potato!!). Delicious! There was also corn and taro bubbling away in there. What a convenient way to save on firewood. As the tide comes in, the scraps wash away to feed the fish and cool water mixes with hot to make for a nice, warm place for a soak.

After our steaming hot sweet potato, Jackson led us up the hill on a path that took us to the aforementioned geothermal features and which also provided us with a good view of the invasion fleet. It really did seem like we were overwhelming the local population as if collectively we had turned it into Cruise Ship Day.

Plenty of fun around the anchorage and village
Local kids always at the ready to help us launch our dinghy

The fun wasn’t over. When the weather cleared, we signed up for tours to Mt. Yasur with the backlog of all of the others who had been waiting. This included guests in Tanna’s few lodgings.

Maryanne, being cheeky like she is, managed to score us and Muse an extra side trip to the volcanic ash plain along the way. The road to Lanekel passes over it, but not until after the turnoff for the road to the rim. She had been raving about it since her trip to Lenakel and wanted to make sure the rest of us got to see it.

Yasur volcano's ash plain

Despite arriving early - the waiting was fun!

We were the first to be dropped at the Visitor’s Center, where we ended up having an hour to play around on their tightropes and tree swings before the throngs arrived in time for the cultural show (dancing). Then we were herded into the backs of several pickups like so much cattle and then driven to market. Ahem, I mean the trail to the rim. Moo.

Traditional dance was performed once all the tourists had arrived

It was just before sunset when we crested the rim and got to see the bubbling pool of lava far below. Occasionally there would be a boom and a big spray of lava would burst upwards. Clouds of smoke sporadically came our way. The smell wasn’t as sulfurous as I we had experienced at other volcanoes with white sulfur dioxide gas. Mt Yasur’s smoke clouds were gray. We quickly discovered they were composed mostly of ash. The ash is formed by aerosolized lava that solidifies in flight. What we ended up with at our level was a whole lot of fine falling sand. Ow! We quickly learned to keep our eyes shut when the clouds approach.

The volcano in action - best seen after dark
This is what brings most tourists to Tanna

On a couple of occasions, the explosions were large enough that we could see waves of lava surf breaking on the banks at the edge of the lava pool. One was big enough that a fraction of a second after hearing the boom, we were hit with a shock wave that threw everybody back half an inch. That instantly stopped the festive atmosphere of the visit and had us all looking to our guides to see if they would start yelling at us to evacuate. They seemed unflustered, so we all slowly went back to watching the spectacle and trying to photograph the display in the fading light.

On the way down, I was really glad that Maryanne had packed headlamps for us to use. We had become avid headlamp users after climbing Stromboli in Italy, and Maryanne knew we would need them for the descent. There was no moon and only a few of the guides had weak flashlights. A lot of people were trying to pick their way down using the flashlights on their phones. We knew they had probably run their batteries taking photos and video, so didn’t have much time left. We and the other dozen or so with headlamps ended up spreading out to try to light a path for the others to follow. I’m glad she brought them. It would have been tough to find our way down a black mountain at night with no lights.

Oregon and Washington Road Trip

[Kyle]We gave ourselves a whole day to rest before hitting the road again; this time driving North to spend a week in Oregon, starting with a night in a hotel in Portland. {Maryanne: The reality of that 'rest' day was laundry and repacking, but sure, you can call it rest!}.

My original plan was to spend three days camping, hiking some of my favorite trails in the Columbia River Gorge. Three relatively easy days at near sea level sounded pretty good. When we got there however, the skies were looking gloomy (as is usual for Portland). Our first day's forecast originally had been calling for drizzle most of the day, evolving into 'light' and then 'medium' rain all day. The following two days were forecast to be clear and nice, so I figured if we could just get through the first one we'd be home free.

The rain started in earnest just as we parked the car at the trail head (about 8am). It was hard to raise the motivation to put on rain gear, don our heavy packs, and go out in it. After a pause we finally managed, and not surprisingly found we had the whole trail to ourselves. We walked about a mile on flat ground before turning up hill on the Oneonta Trail towards the Larch Mountain summit. The rain didn't lessen, nor even show signs of lessening. It was cold and we were constantly going back and forth between the choice of opening the rain gear (for ventilation) making us wet and cold, and keeping it cinched up (which made us clammy and hot) - both poor choices. We persisted for another couple of miles looking out at a drippy world through the tunnel of our rain hoods, with the only sound we could hear being the beating of rain upon them (the hoods).

The only pictures we managed to get before the rain started in earnest!

We got to Triple Falls, which was nice enough, but we didn't feel like sitting and enjoying the view; we were hoping to get camped and be inside a dry(ish) tent as soon as possible. After another mile or so Maryanne finally admitted that she just didn't have it in her and she wanted to turn and go back. By this point the return journey was longer than the distance to the camp site, and it seemed more sensible to me to continue on (another two miles in the heavy rain seemed preferable to four in the rain). Maryanne's argument was that four miles to a dry warm car beat a cold, wet tent at whatever distance. I wanted to keep trying so we reluctantly agreed to separate - she would go to the car and find a hotel, I'd continue and hope for a sheltered camping spot and a break in the rain.

As I continued to climb, my heart became heavy with worry about her descending alone. Neither of us had a phone signal, so I could not check up on her (nor she, me). I decided to continue up the canyon to the hilltop where I'd originally planned to camp in the hopes I'd be able to receive a signal there. Once I got there I received a text asking me to keep her posted about my progress whenever I found a chance. It was not going well. It was raining even harder and I knew I had little hope of erecting a dry tent, nor climbing into a dry sleeping bag.

{Maryanne: It turns out I did fall on the way down, not at any of the mudslides nor the slippery rock falls, but at the concrete steps (with a hand rail) just at the entrance to the parking lot - I now had a giant bruise on my butt and another on my back - go figure!}

I had just enough daylight left for two options: One was to descend to where she was via another (more direct) trail, the other was to take the shorter up hill route to the top of Larch Mountain (1,400 more feet of climbing) where there happened to be a road. I asked her if she wouldn't mind picking me up in the car, and she agreed. I arrived an hour and a half later (just after she did); I was pretty exhausted. I had just carried the same loaded pack that we'd used on the High Sierra Trail (HST) up 4,000 vertical feet without hardly any rest. That was more vertical gain than any on day on the HST. I was actually so cold and stiff and sore that Maryanne had to peel my pack off me as I couldn't remove it myself. It was good to know that I would not have to spend a miserable, wet, sleepless night in the woods after all.

As we drove back to Portland with the heat on full, we managed to snag a room in the hotel we'd stayed in the previous night (it was not a great hotel, but it was warm and dry).

Time for Plan C!

The Next day - Sunday

Since we were so sore from the day before, we decided any serious hiking was off the table, so we spent our extra day exploring downtown Portland.

Portlandia, and the Chinese Gardens were just some of the sites we visited

The Following day - Monday

I got it in my head that I wanted to actually finish the second half of our original three day backpacking route. We agreed on a plan to have Maryanne drop me off at the top of Larch Mountain, this time with no pack (I should have done it the other way). She would drive down to the end of the trail at Multnomah falls and hike up until she met me; we would then finish the trail together.

I started to encounter people going up the trail at about the half way point; every time I saw someone new I kept thinking it must be Maryanne, but she kept not appearing. I started to get a little nervous when I knew I was close the finish and I still hadn't seen her, she should have had plenty of time to get this far. I finally got a signal on my phone just as I reached the top of the falls, and started the switchbacks down to the parking lot. She WAS on her way up and would intercept me soon. {Maryanne: While we had a greed to meet at the top of the falls, I figured he'd be a while about getting there, and I stopped at all the cute tourist stops and viewpoints on the way to snap pictures and soak up the sun. Oops!}

Some of the scenic spots Maryanne stopped at along the way

Once she met up with me, we turned back up hill to make sure she got to see some of the best nearby sites on the trail. Unlike two days before, the weather was mild and sunny, and the lower trail was packed with people going in both directions.

Multnomah and other falls along the trail

We still had some daylight left, so we decided to take a side trip to the nearby Bonneville Dam visitor center. A brochure by the exit about Columbia Gorge wineries peaked Maryanne's interest and we decided we had time to pick one to visit (not too far in the 'wrong' direction). She did some quick research and decided we'd be visiting the Marchesi Vineyards & Winery near Hood River; what a lovely find. The wines are very good, and the service and setting was just perfect. Between glasses we were able to fuss over the vineyard's resident cats and play 'get the stick' with their inexhaustible dogs.

Marchesi Vineyards & Winery

The Following day - Tuesday

Today's plan had us venturing into Washington State for a hike to Ape Canyon on Mount St. Helens. The trail is also used for mountain biking which means most of it has been smoothed, and consists of slopes gentler than we'd been recently seeing. That, not carrying heavy packs, and being at lower altitude, made it seem practically effortless to climb the 5.5 miles to the canyon. The trail is a bit inappropriately named. It doesn't follow the canyon, but instead goes along a ridge to the canyon viewpoint, where you can look down into the steep, narrow depths; at its narrowest point the canyon is only 8' wide, and it didn't look to us like there was any trail down.

Views from the Ape Canyon trail

Alongside the ridge was a large valley in which ash and debris had flowed during the 1980 eruption. It is still barren today, 36 years later.

We weren't too tired once we returned to the car, so we decided to visit Ape Cave on the drive back. Ape Cave is a lava tube over a mile long with an entrance at each end. Most people do a loop (half above ground and half through the cave). We started walking above ground to the upper (further) entrance, electing to walk back through the cave.

The cave part of the walk started out mildly. Formed by an underground river of lava that had long since cooled, the cave that remained was formed into an approximate size and shape of a subway tunnel with a flat lava floor bottom. This made for easy walking. Before long, we encountered our first obstacle: a boulder field formed by a collapsed ceiling.

Ape Cave - a magical mystery tour

In order to traverse it, we had to climb over the large and often unstable boulders, up into the ceiling cavity, and then traverse to the other side and descend back into the original tube. We had 100' or so of easy walking and came upon yet another, and then another. At a couple of places as the tube wound its way left and right, the cave narrowed to the width of a doorway before expanding again into a two lane highway sized chamber. At one of the pinch points (just over half way) the cave not only make a sharp bend, but also a slide-like descent. To get down, it was necessary to turn and lower ourselves using hand holds as best we could, but which were not sufficient to reach the bottom - we had to just let go and slide/drop the last couple of feet until our feet (hopefully) hit the floor - that was unnerving. There were yet more boulder fields after that. Initially we found the cave fascinating and impressive, then a little challenging, and eventually downright frightening. It was hard to really understand how far along we were, nor what challenges awaited us - was it safer/easier to proceed or to turn around? We were both greatly relieved when we eventually saw the stairs for the exit. We had been expecting some hint of daylight, but the stairs take a convoluted route to the surface and it was already mostly dark by then. After that, we decided we'd 'done' Ape Cave, and we never needed to return again.

The Following day - Wednesday

From Portland we were on our way to spend a day with my Dad in Coos Bay on the Southern Oregon coast. Since Portland isn't 'too' far from there, we decided we had enough extra daylight to take the long way, and detour to Crater Lake National Park. Unfortunately the main road through the park is under construction/repair, so it took a little longer than we expected, but it was well worth the detour.

Crater Lake National Park

We spent the next day or so catching up with Dad before making the long drive back to Begonia for some rest and relaxation... Just kidding... to start the many jobs outstanding before we could actually start cruising again!!

{Maryanne: Since the whole point of the trip to Oregon was to see Kyle's Dad, I'm embarrassed to discover that (yet again) we took no photos! I guess there was just too much talking to think of it! Doh!}