It's Sunday. We always go sailing on Sunday. Ever since Neal and I have had access to a boat, a Sunday sail has been our family tradition. We used to have to bribe the kids with candy to go out with us, then they started to suggest it. Now we just kind of crave a sail if it has been a while. As Charlie Schneider used to say, "it cleans out the cobwebs".
So today we are sailing, but it is a Sunday like no other before! Mt. Yasur is behind us belching smoke and ash. If it were dark we would be able to see the red glow of it's magma belly. Erromango (land of mango) Island is ahead and beckoning us forward. The ocean is a sapphire blue with a temp is 75 degrees. The sky is cornflower blue with wisps of white clouds, the air a delightful 71 degrees. We have 15 knots of breeze on the starboard quarter. Rutea balances between sea and sky as if she needs no advice from me or Neal.
Tomorrow is Neal's birthday.... I must admit I am a bit panicked because I have nothing, I do mean Nothing, for him! We will spend part of the day visiting the Port Navrin school that we are delivering school supplies to and then maybe snorkel the reef. I think I can pull enough stuff together for a dinner to which we can invite Sarah Jean II and Merkava and share our few remaining Fiji Bitter beers. I ask him one more time- what would you like to do for your birthday?
This. This is all I want for my birthday is Neal's reply. Just this beautiful Sunday sail.
Oh yeah.... Neal just caught a Yellow Tail!
R of Rutea
19.07.66 South
169.24.8 East
Vanuatu Archipelago
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At 9/27/2012 9:29 PM (utc) Rutea's position was 19°31.48'S 169°29.79'E
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Saturday, September 29, 2012
Friday, September 28, 2012
Kava
Before we left Mexico, our friends, Ross and Julie McDonald, gave us t-shirts from their boat, Boppy's Star. "Wear this when you drink kava with a Fijian chief," Ross instructed me, "And take a picture." It didn't happen in Fiji but I did wear it this evening when three of us visited the local nakamal, what the locals in Vanuatu call a place where kava is drunk.
Kava is the root of a certain species of pepper tree and it seems as though each island group in the southwest Pacific has a slightly different method of preparing it. It wasn't out in the open in Samoa though we did see people drink it. We saw no evidence of it in Tonga (we assume it was still there) but Fiji was Kava Central, with large sections of the markets dedicated to selling kava - both the whole root and in powder form. Fijians also made a ceremony of drinking kava, with much hand-clapping and shouts of 'bula!'. Kava produces a mild euphoria and a numbness in the mouth. We tried it a couple of times in Fiji and thought it tasted terrible (some say it tastes like drinking dirty dishwater except it isn't soapy - to me, it tastes like bitter, muddy water) but we had been told that the best kava was in Vanuatu.
When we were in Anatom, some of the locals put on a 'cultural event' for the cruising fleet that include demonstrations of dance, costumes and culture. They also offered us kava, which again tasted terrible but was much stronger than the Fijian kava. I really liked the buzz - I had to be very careful when I spoke as I felt as though each word was a challenge to enunciate but it was also a pleasant, peaceful feeling. Corie and our friend, Mark, went to a nakamal at the village in Anelghowhat, where men lined up to purchase bowls of kava, much like a bar anywhere in the world - except that the nakamal was no more than a thatched hut with a dirt floor. Corie was the only woman there and the two of them were the only white people.
Today, as Ruthie and I were walking home from the White Sand Beach, we passed by the local nakamal (in this village, women are not allowed anywhere near the nakamal and there's a path that gives it a wide berth for them to use - nor is a woman allowed to watch a man drink kava. We're not sure what would happen to a tourist but if a local woman was to walk through the nakamal, she would be beaten with sticks or so we were told.). I stopped by to ask if there would be enough kava for my friends and me to have some. The man I talked to said there would and that they start making kava at 5pm.
Once back on the boat, I asked my friend, Norm, if he wanted to attend. "They make kava here the old fashioned way," Norm said. Yuck. That means they chew the kava root and then spit it out and make the kava from that. Yuck. When I told my friend, Mark, he said, "Oh, well . . . " and then asked if I was still interested in going. "I'll go if you go," I said. "Crazy fucker," was Mark's reply, but at a few minutes before 5, Mark showed up in his dinghy, ready to go. We picked up Randy from the sloop, Mystic, and made our way into the village.
The nakamal is just on the edge of the village and is nothing more than a clearing in the jungle with a few small thatched roofs around the edges. The dirt is packed hard from the thousands of feet that have attended the kava sessions there. There were a few men off in one corner and we approached them, asking if they had kava available. One man, who we would later learn is Thomas, was silent at first and then got up and extended his hand. We introduced ourselves and shook hands all around. A large pile of kava root was on a mat woven of palm frond and a large knife was being used to cut the root into pieces about the size of a fist. Several of the men had their mouths stuffed full of the kava root and were chewing away. They looked like chipmunks or Louis Armstrong while playing his trumpet except these men had drool coming out of the corners of their mouths. Once they had the root chewed to the consistency that they preferred, they would spit out the chewed root onto a round leaf and place it neatly on the woven mat. It looked like neat piles of vomit. We were invited to sit on a log and wait for the kava to finish being prepared. "Can I chew kava?" I asked of Thomas. He gave me a blank look and then handed me a small piece of root and a couple of leaves for me to spit the chewed kava onto. Different parts of the root had different textures - one part might be like a very tough carrot while other parts where so stringy that no matter how much I chewed I couldn't break it down to the fine vomit-like mash of our hosts. Besides, it tasted awful. Several times I had to stop chewing altogether and breath through my nose as I fought to control my gag reflex. Rather than stuff my mouth like everyone else, I chewed much more dainty portions and would pause in between chews. Sometimes we would talk with our hosts. Simon, one of the kava chewers, asked me something that I couldn't understand. "I can't understand you," I said, "Your mouth is full of kava." My pile of chewed kava was pathetically small and at one point Simon generously offered to supplant it with some of the kava that he was chewing. I quickly but politely refused his gracious offer.
Even though my pile of chewed kava was ridiculously small, I could nor force myself to chew anymore. I approached Thomas and asked if he could make me a bowl of kava from my chewed pieces. Thomas was sitting on a small stone facing another man who was also sitting on a small stone. There was a bucket of water to the side and between the two men were two coconut shell bowls. Putting the chewed kava in a long cloth, they would pour water over the chewed kava, letting it drain into the coconut shell bowls. Then they would twist the cloth, wringing out the liquid. Simon handed the bowl with the cloudy liquid kava to me and said, "Go stand over there and drink it all at once." I did as I was told and I could tell that my small pile of poorly-chewed kava had made a very weak bowl of drink.
Mark and Randy did not chew their own kava. They had bowls of kava that had been chewed for them but I don't know that it was that much stronger than what I had. It wasn't nearly as strong as the kava we had in Anelghowhat but that kava had been made by putting the root through a meat grinder. Regardless, our hosts here in Port Resolution were very hospitable and after we had drunk our kava they offered us baked taro root, bananas, papaya and coconut. As we were leaving, I offered to pay for our kava but they refused. Thomas and Simon invited us to come back tomorrow night.
-----
At 9/27/2012 9:29 PM (utc) Rutea's position was 19°31.48'S 169°29.79'E
----------
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Kava is the root of a certain species of pepper tree and it seems as though each island group in the southwest Pacific has a slightly different method of preparing it. It wasn't out in the open in Samoa though we did see people drink it. We saw no evidence of it in Tonga (we assume it was still there) but Fiji was Kava Central, with large sections of the markets dedicated to selling kava - both the whole root and in powder form. Fijians also made a ceremony of drinking kava, with much hand-clapping and shouts of 'bula!'. Kava produces a mild euphoria and a numbness in the mouth. We tried it a couple of times in Fiji and thought it tasted terrible (some say it tastes like drinking dirty dishwater except it isn't soapy - to me, it tastes like bitter, muddy water) but we had been told that the best kava was in Vanuatu.
When we were in Anatom, some of the locals put on a 'cultural event' for the cruising fleet that include demonstrations of dance, costumes and culture. They also offered us kava, which again tasted terrible but was much stronger than the Fijian kava. I really liked the buzz - I had to be very careful when I spoke as I felt as though each word was a challenge to enunciate but it was also a pleasant, peaceful feeling. Corie and our friend, Mark, went to a nakamal at the village in Anelghowhat, where men lined up to purchase bowls of kava, much like a bar anywhere in the world - except that the nakamal was no more than a thatched hut with a dirt floor. Corie was the only woman there and the two of them were the only white people.
Today, as Ruthie and I were walking home from the White Sand Beach, we passed by the local nakamal (in this village, women are not allowed anywhere near the nakamal and there's a path that gives it a wide berth for them to use - nor is a woman allowed to watch a man drink kava. We're not sure what would happen to a tourist but if a local woman was to walk through the nakamal, she would be beaten with sticks or so we were told.). I stopped by to ask if there would be enough kava for my friends and me to have some. The man I talked to said there would and that they start making kava at 5pm.
Once back on the boat, I asked my friend, Norm, if he wanted to attend. "They make kava here the old fashioned way," Norm said. Yuck. That means they chew the kava root and then spit it out and make the kava from that. Yuck. When I told my friend, Mark, he said, "Oh, well . . . " and then asked if I was still interested in going. "I'll go if you go," I said. "Crazy fucker," was Mark's reply, but at a few minutes before 5, Mark showed up in his dinghy, ready to go. We picked up Randy from the sloop, Mystic, and made our way into the village.
The nakamal is just on the edge of the village and is nothing more than a clearing in the jungle with a few small thatched roofs around the edges. The dirt is packed hard from the thousands of feet that have attended the kava sessions there. There were a few men off in one corner and we approached them, asking if they had kava available. One man, who we would later learn is Thomas, was silent at first and then got up and extended his hand. We introduced ourselves and shook hands all around. A large pile of kava root was on a mat woven of palm frond and a large knife was being used to cut the root into pieces about the size of a fist. Several of the men had their mouths stuffed full of the kava root and were chewing away. They looked like chipmunks or Louis Armstrong while playing his trumpet except these men had drool coming out of the corners of their mouths. Once they had the root chewed to the consistency that they preferred, they would spit out the chewed root onto a round leaf and place it neatly on the woven mat. It looked like neat piles of vomit. We were invited to sit on a log and wait for the kava to finish being prepared. "Can I chew kava?" I asked of Thomas. He gave me a blank look and then handed me a small piece of root and a couple of leaves for me to spit the chewed kava onto. Different parts of the root had different textures - one part might be like a very tough carrot while other parts where so stringy that no matter how much I chewed I couldn't break it down to the fine vomit-like mash of our hosts. Besides, it tasted awful. Several times I had to stop chewing altogether and breath through my nose as I fought to control my gag reflex. Rather than stuff my mouth like everyone else, I chewed much more dainty portions and would pause in between chews. Sometimes we would talk with our hosts. Simon, one of the kava chewers, asked me something that I couldn't understand. "I can't understand you," I said, "Your mouth is full of kava." My pile of chewed kava was pathetically small and at one point Simon generously offered to supplant it with some of the kava that he was chewing. I quickly but politely refused his gracious offer.
Even though my pile of chewed kava was ridiculously small, I could nor force myself to chew anymore. I approached Thomas and asked if he could make me a bowl of kava from my chewed pieces. Thomas was sitting on a small stone facing another man who was also sitting on a small stone. There was a bucket of water to the side and between the two men were two coconut shell bowls. Putting the chewed kava in a long cloth, they would pour water over the chewed kava, letting it drain into the coconut shell bowls. Then they would twist the cloth, wringing out the liquid. Simon handed the bowl with the cloudy liquid kava to me and said, "Go stand over there and drink it all at once." I did as I was told and I could tell that my small pile of poorly-chewed kava had made a very weak bowl of drink.
Mark and Randy did not chew their own kava. They had bowls of kava that had been chewed for them but I don't know that it was that much stronger than what I had. It wasn't nearly as strong as the kava we had in Anelghowhat but that kava had been made by putting the root through a meat grinder. Regardless, our hosts here in Port Resolution were very hospitable and after we had drunk our kava they offered us baked taro root, bananas, papaya and coconut. As we were leaving, I offered to pay for our kava but they refused. Thomas and Simon invited us to come back tomorrow night.
-----
At 9/27/2012 9:29 PM (utc) Rutea's position was 19°31.48'S 169°29.79'E
----------
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Thursday, September 27, 2012
Mt. Yasur on Tanna Island
Sorry, folks, but you're going to have to read this post twice. Once now and again when we get some photographs uploaded. My poor command of the English language will prevent me from adequate describing our trip yesterday to Mt. Yasur and besides, a picture is worth a thousand words and I don't think any of you are patient enough to read that many.
At 1600 hours, we had locked up Rutea and took the dinghy into shore where we rendezvoused with ten other cruisers who are anchored in the delightful Port Resolution on the island of Tanna, one of the smaller islands in the Vanuatu archipelago. Believe it or not, there is a Port Resolution Yacht Club although it's nothing more than a tin roof held up by sturdy poles, no walls; flags and burgees from around the world hang from it's rafters. It was our gathering point where twelve of us plus the driver piled into a small Toyota pickup truck. Crude wood benches in the back were the economy seats while four in our group got the business class seats of the crew cab. The road itself was two deep ruts carved through the tropical jungle and our top speed was never more than a few miles per hour. Often the driver had to come to a complete stop and inch his way over a particularly rough patch of 'road'. Since our speed was so slow, the dust from the wheels would often float back over the bed of the truck, covering us with a thick layer of fine volcanic sand. In many places the road was very steep and I felt that my position, against the tailgate, was somewhat precarious for if the battered tailgate were to suddenly jar open, I would be the first one to be ejected. But after an hour of driving, the landscape shifted suddenly from thick forest to the moon-scape of a volcanic crater.
As we had been approaching Tanna Island from the ocean, we could occasionally see clouds of steam and ash being belched forth from Mt. Yasur and now, here we were, standing on the rim of this active volcano. The sun was just setting and the people formed silhouettes as they stood on the narrow rim of the crater. Looking down, the bottom of the crater was only a hundred meters or so away and thick streams of steam swirled on the crater floor. There was a continuous hissing and often the strong stench of sulfur would send people into coughing and sneezing fits. Maybe it would go quiet for a few moments but it was still mesmerizing and then suddenly, as if thunder was following an underground bolt of lightning, an explosion would shake the ground and a fountain of molten lava would shoot high into the air. The bright orange-red lava seemed to almost float and drift but the center of the fountain would be yellow with the intense heat. On other occasions, a similar explosion would expel a thick, billowing cloud of dark grey ash, which looked mean and angry.
I can only imagine what the early residents of Tanna thought of this geological phenomena. The name, Yasur, means 'god' in the local language and there's no doubt that it must have struck them as something supernatural. According to geologists, it's been at this level of activity for the last 800 years. In our guide book, it says that this is the closest a person can get to an active, erupting volcano anywhere in the world.
It was dark when we finally decided to climb down from the precarious lip but the nearly-full moon and our bright flashlights lit up the stark landscape so we could see our way back to the little Toyota truck. The ride back felt longer than the ride in but as we were going downhill most of the way back, at least I didn't feel like I was going to fall out if the tailgate gave way. Once back at the 'yacht club' we all had a round of Tusker beer, the local beer of Vanuatu. We passed our cameras around, sharing the pictures we had just taken. It had been a unique shared experience.
-----
At 9/27/2012 9:29 PM (utc) Rutea's position was 19°31.48'S 169°29.79'E
----------
radio email processed by SailMail
for information see: http://www.sailmail.com
At 1600 hours, we had locked up Rutea and took the dinghy into shore where we rendezvoused with ten other cruisers who are anchored in the delightful Port Resolution on the island of Tanna, one of the smaller islands in the Vanuatu archipelago. Believe it or not, there is a Port Resolution Yacht Club although it's nothing more than a tin roof held up by sturdy poles, no walls; flags and burgees from around the world hang from it's rafters. It was our gathering point where twelve of us plus the driver piled into a small Toyota pickup truck. Crude wood benches in the back were the economy seats while four in our group got the business class seats of the crew cab. The road itself was two deep ruts carved through the tropical jungle and our top speed was never more than a few miles per hour. Often the driver had to come to a complete stop and inch his way over a particularly rough patch of 'road'. Since our speed was so slow, the dust from the wheels would often float back over the bed of the truck, covering us with a thick layer of fine volcanic sand. In many places the road was very steep and I felt that my position, against the tailgate, was somewhat precarious for if the battered tailgate were to suddenly jar open, I would be the first one to be ejected. But after an hour of driving, the landscape shifted suddenly from thick forest to the moon-scape of a volcanic crater.
As we had been approaching Tanna Island from the ocean, we could occasionally see clouds of steam and ash being belched forth from Mt. Yasur and now, here we were, standing on the rim of this active volcano. The sun was just setting and the people formed silhouettes as they stood on the narrow rim of the crater. Looking down, the bottom of the crater was only a hundred meters or so away and thick streams of steam swirled on the crater floor. There was a continuous hissing and often the strong stench of sulfur would send people into coughing and sneezing fits. Maybe it would go quiet for a few moments but it was still mesmerizing and then suddenly, as if thunder was following an underground bolt of lightning, an explosion would shake the ground and a fountain of molten lava would shoot high into the air. The bright orange-red lava seemed to almost float and drift but the center of the fountain would be yellow with the intense heat. On other occasions, a similar explosion would expel a thick, billowing cloud of dark grey ash, which looked mean and angry.
I can only imagine what the early residents of Tanna thought of this geological phenomena. The name, Yasur, means 'god' in the local language and there's no doubt that it must have struck them as something supernatural. According to geologists, it's been at this level of activity for the last 800 years. In our guide book, it says that this is the closest a person can get to an active, erupting volcano anywhere in the world.
It was dark when we finally decided to climb down from the precarious lip but the nearly-full moon and our bright flashlights lit up the stark landscape so we could see our way back to the little Toyota truck. The ride back felt longer than the ride in but as we were going downhill most of the way back, at least I didn't feel like I was going to fall out if the tailgate gave way. Once back at the 'yacht club' we all had a round of Tusker beer, the local beer of Vanuatu. We passed our cameras around, sharing the pictures we had just taken. It had been a unique shared experience.
-----
At 9/27/2012 9:29 PM (utc) Rutea's position was 19°31.48'S 169°29.79'E
----------
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Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Leaving Anatom Island
After almost a week in this idyllic paradise, we have finally forced ourselves to make the decision to leave this delightful bay and continue north. Our Vanuatu clock is ticking as we were only able to get 30-day visas when we checked in and there is so much we want to see.
Anatom Island was once populated with as many as 12,000 natives but diseases brought by Europeans in the seventeen- and eighteen-hundreds decimated the population to less than 10% of that. The climate is cooler here than the rest of Vanuatu but the thick forest completely covers the island. An abundance of fish and lobster provides the local people with plenty of food and drought conditions are almost unheard of - it rains a lot here. The junior high school attracts students from the neighboring island of Tanna and the students live in very simple thatched dormitories. The students get to return home about every three months or so. High school is only offered in Port Vila, the capital, on the island of Efate, almost 200 miles away.
There are a couple of ironies on Anatom Island, though. The first one is that cruise ships now call on Anatom Island frequently and the influx of wealthy passengers has had an impact on this primitive island. When I say primitive, I mean that it has no electricity and running water is only available from a few strategically-placed spigots throughout the village. Homes are small single-room, thatched affairs. Sure, a few homes have gasoline-powered generators but from our view in the bay, no village exists at all when its dark. Many of the residents are ferried out to the nearby Inyeug Islet (Mystery Island) when the cruise ship calls and they set up stalls to sell trinkets as the passengers never actually visit the village itself. Mystery Island is a low-lying, coconut palm-cover islet that's well groomed and it's protected lagoon is an ideal place to swim and snorkel. Its been well developed with modern restrooms, picnic tables and thatched roofs to provide shade. Once the cruise ship leaves, the islet is deserted. Regardless, the contact between the local people and the ship's passengers is having a dramatic impact.
The other irony is the fact that the island now has cell phone service. You can't buy a cell phone here (the nearest place to buy one is the island of Tanna, almost 50 miles away) but a sturdy steel tower provides service to the entire island. When I asked Kenneth, who is married to Natu, one of the teachers at the primary school, how this has affected the island, he shook his head sadly. "All the children want to do is play with their cell phones now. They no longer have any interest in school. It is very bad," he said. Later that same evening, Ruthie was talking with Natu when her eleven-year-old daughter walked up and said something in Bislama. Ruthie said that Natu replied somewhat crossly. When Ruthie asked what her daughter had said, Natu replied, "She wants a cell phone."
I wish I could post some photographs but we still have no broadband access. This post must be pretty boring to read without photos. We have beautiful pictures of the clear water, the dark green island and the kind, friendly people. Once we get to Tanna we'll be able to buy SIMs for our iPads and computer. And our cell phones.
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At 9/24/2012 9:40 PM (utc) Rutea's position was 20°08.36'S 169°48.29'E
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Anatom Island was once populated with as many as 12,000 natives but diseases brought by Europeans in the seventeen- and eighteen-hundreds decimated the population to less than 10% of that. The climate is cooler here than the rest of Vanuatu but the thick forest completely covers the island. An abundance of fish and lobster provides the local people with plenty of food and drought conditions are almost unheard of - it rains a lot here. The junior high school attracts students from the neighboring island of Tanna and the students live in very simple thatched dormitories. The students get to return home about every three months or so. High school is only offered in Port Vila, the capital, on the island of Efate, almost 200 miles away.
There are a couple of ironies on Anatom Island, though. The first one is that cruise ships now call on Anatom Island frequently and the influx of wealthy passengers has had an impact on this primitive island. When I say primitive, I mean that it has no electricity and running water is only available from a few strategically-placed spigots throughout the village. Homes are small single-room, thatched affairs. Sure, a few homes have gasoline-powered generators but from our view in the bay, no village exists at all when its dark. Many of the residents are ferried out to the nearby Inyeug Islet (Mystery Island) when the cruise ship calls and they set up stalls to sell trinkets as the passengers never actually visit the village itself. Mystery Island is a low-lying, coconut palm-cover islet that's well groomed and it's protected lagoon is an ideal place to swim and snorkel. Its been well developed with modern restrooms, picnic tables and thatched roofs to provide shade. Once the cruise ship leaves, the islet is deserted. Regardless, the contact between the local people and the ship's passengers is having a dramatic impact.
The other irony is the fact that the island now has cell phone service. You can't buy a cell phone here (the nearest place to buy one is the island of Tanna, almost 50 miles away) but a sturdy steel tower provides service to the entire island. When I asked Kenneth, who is married to Natu, one of the teachers at the primary school, how this has affected the island, he shook his head sadly. "All the children want to do is play with their cell phones now. They no longer have any interest in school. It is very bad," he said. Later that same evening, Ruthie was talking with Natu when her eleven-year-old daughter walked up and said something in Bislama. Ruthie said that Natu replied somewhat crossly. When Ruthie asked what her daughter had said, Natu replied, "She wants a cell phone."
I wish I could post some photographs but we still have no broadband access. This post must be pretty boring to read without photos. We have beautiful pictures of the clear water, the dark green island and the kind, friendly people. Once we get to Tanna we'll be able to buy SIMs for our iPads and computer. And our cell phones.
-----
At 9/24/2012 9:40 PM (utc) Rutea's position was 20°08.36'S 169°48.29'E
----------
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Friday, September 21, 2012
Olsem Wanem?
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| Daniel and Caitlin Woodruff |
 |
| Norm and Mark |
Now we're in Anelghowhat Bay on Anatom Island, the furthest south in the Vanuatu archipelago. The small village here is populated with about 900 Ni-Vanuatu (that's how you refer to the people of Vanuatu) and their homes are very simple one-room thatched huts. The only building that resembles something more modern is the branch of the National Bank of Vanuatu and it's probably not 12-feet long and about 8-feet wide but it does have a tin roof. It's open on Mondays, Wednesday and Fridays. They speak Bislama here but many people also know French and English. In case you were wondering, Olsem wanen is asking 'How are you?' whereas to say good-bye you say 'Bae/mi likem yu.' So far, everyone has been very friendly.
Rutea has been doing exceptionally well. True, her transom is in bad need of cleaning (she gets a dirty bum if we motor for too long) but all of her systems are working as they should. Our plan is to stay here for a few more days and then head to the next island north, Tanna, where there's an active volcano that you can hike right up to its edge and see the fountains of lava. From there we'll continue north and probably stop at Port Vila, which is the capital and a good place to provision. We've heard that the best islands for cruising are still north of that but we only have 30-day visas and we want to see New Caledonia before we head to Australia. Cyclone season starts on November 1 so we want to be someplace safe not too long after that.
Once we get to someplace with internet service I'll try to post some pictures. Right now we're using our satellite phone to post these reports. The adventure continues . . .
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At 9/22/2012 2:32 AM (utc) Rutea's position was 20°08.36'S 169°48.29'E
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Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Home is Where the Anchor is Set!
 |
And it is currently set in Analgawat Bay, Anatom Island, Vanuatu! It was really a pretty easy passage, all things considered.... it was only three nights and three and a half days, there was one hot water burn to a hand, one case of severe stomach cramps and the furling halyard on the genoa seized up so we had to take down and stow the genoa our last night out. We stuffed the genoa down the hatch in the forward head, so we are down to three people and one head so that is a little rough too!
It is pouring cats and dogs! So much so that I can hardly see the island from the anchorage. What I can see of it looks very lush and the perfect breeding ground for malaria carrying mosquitos. Corie suggests that we immediately begin to fortify ourselves with gin and tonics against the malaria! Is it the gin or the tonic that is the antidote?
We are in a new country and have a new, sharp learning curve to climb: currency, pidgin English, food, navigation, kava, kastoms. In the kastom villages men still wear nambas (penis sheaths) and women wear grass skirts. Everything is celebrated with traditional dances complete with head-dresses and masks or painted faces. Then there are volcanos to climb, yellow sharks to observe (from above this time)and world famous kava to share and people to meet. Land-diving, the precursor to bungy jumping began here as a ritual to insure a good harvest! Vanuatu is know as the Happiest Country in the World! Imagine traveling through a country where everyone is happy, directions are easy to obtain and bus drivers are eager to engage in conversation!
In the meantime, we are waiting for the customs officer to come out to the boat and check us into the country. Once we are cleared in we can go ashore and dive in. Stay tuned!
R of Rutea
Analgawat Bay
20.14.33 South
1699.46.6 East
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At 12/30/1899 12:00 AM (utc) Rutea's position was ??°??.??'N ???°??.??'E
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Tuesday, September 18, 2012
2nd Night Out
After our 180 mile, record breaking day yesterday, today is slow! The wind has shifted around and we are going dead down wind so have the pole out to windward and are wing on wing. This is the slowest point of sail for Rutea. Now it is a race against daylight (tomorrow) for our arrival in Anatom so we may end up putting on the engine for a while tonight if the wind stays light as it now is.
Just finished lunch, have all had showers, checked in on our radio net and are all settling down in the cockpit for afternoon reading. 118 miles to go!
R of Rutea
19.48.4 South
171.42.9 East
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At 9/18/2012 5:13 AM (utc) Rutea's position was 18°57.42'S 173°54.91'E
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Just finished lunch, have all had showers, checked in on our radio net and are all settling down in the cockpit for afternoon reading. 118 miles to go!
R of Rutea
19.48.4 South
171.42.9 East
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At 9/18/2012 5:13 AM (utc) Rutea's position was 18°57.42'S 173°54.91'E
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radio email processed by SailMail
for information see: http://www.sailmail.com
Monday, September 17, 2012
Vanuatua Bound!
We sailed through Malolo Pass Monday @ 15:15 saying good-bye to Coudbreak, Restaurants, Swimming Pools and all of those famous surf spots en route to Anatol Island in southern Vanuatu! Have had plenty of wind- 20 to 25 knots all night and between 2 and 3 meter seas. We are slowly but surely getting our sea legs! It was hard to say good-bye to Fiji but Vanuatu promises adventures galore. The night sky was a waterfall of stars!
Ruthie, Neal, Corie
18.47.74 S
174.24.41 E
277 more miles to go!
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radio email processed by SailMail
for information see: http://www.sailmail.com
Ruthie, Neal, Corie
18.47.74 S
174.24.41 E
277 more miles to go!
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----------
radio email processed by SailMail
for information see: http://www.sailmail.com
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