Lolowai Bay, Ambae

We are anchored in a 'drowned volcanic crater' - ie one that has broken open so that the sea could flood in. Entering involved sailing over a rock and coral 'wall' at high tide into a very sheltered circular bay of deep water with steep wooded slopes all around. Passing near the cliffs we disturbed a huge number of fruit bats (flying foxes) which wheeled around with strange squeaking noises.

We arrived with a good catch of fish - three yellow-fin tuna all caught together on our three lines, so spent the evening preparing the fillets for smoking. This involves soaking them in brine and sugar for a while, then threading cotton through each one and hanging them on the rigging to dry off and form a slight skin. By this time it was dark, so tying them onto the grid of the smoker was difficult and we lost the grid overboard in 11m of water. Rigged up another with wire, then abandoned the process until morning. The number one (nambawan in local pidgin) wood for smoking in NZ is manuka, so we are well equipped with wood chips, and it produced some of the best smoked fish we have had - someone said it was like fishy parma ham!

Pentecost - pastors and the original bungy jump

"Yes, you can get bread at the school kitchen up on the hill" said the rotund and cheery retired pastor who had taken upon himself to be our guide up to a pretty waterfall a short distance from the beach. The steep hot walk up the hill was in vain, no bread left. Zakias was awaiting our return, sitting under a tree keeping an eye on our dinghy as the tide crept in. Doesn't matter I said, I'll make some in the morning. He was all agog, asking how on earth we could make bread on a boat. Cooking here is either in an earth oven over hot stones, or on an open wood fire. Not sure what he imagined our facilities on board were like! An oven! Gas! "This I have to see, you must take me to your boat to see your oven" So he hopped agilely into the dinghy (all 78-years and many kilos of him) and we took him on a tour. Would love to have been a fly on the wall as he told his family about how we lived - including an oven that swings as the boat rocks. Sailing boats look bigger inside than they appear to be at a distance rocking on the swell. Position 15 47 224 S and 168 09 722 E Waterfall Bay, Pentecost Island

Our next anchorage on the same island, Loltong Bay 15 32 721 S and 168 08 841 E We dropped anchor in the afternoon and could see and hear the whole village having some sort of celebration. Heard later that they were preparing for the inauguration of a new pastor the next day. ie chickens and pigs were being slaughtered in readiness. Evidently about a hundred chickens with legs tied were laid out in a long line, and ceremonially thumped on the head with a carved stick. We were told that we would be welcome to attend the festivities the next day, and when we heard the tam tam (a big drum) it would be time to go over. Several villages had walked over to join in, and the men of each village danced and then presented the new man with several beautifully woven panandus mats. Difficult to take photos as the women, children, and old men showed their appreciation by dancing round the outside of the group shouting and waving green branches.

Traditional clothing in Pentecost for such an occasion is either a short panandas mat wrapped around the waist, or two squares of mat fore and aft with a bark belt. Green branches are tucked in the back, and feathers, more leaves, or some type of hat (woollen beanie, cap, old straw hat). Footwear, if worn, was, like the hat, a bit of a status symbol we felt. Football boots, leather boots, and a variety of flip flops and sandals. An anklet rattle of seed pods completed the outfit. Those not taking part in the dancing were in western clothes, which for the women in all these islands is a baggy shapeless 'mother hubbard' dress, a legacy of the early missionaries. Cool and colourful if nothing else.

Pentecost is best known for its Land Diving. It is partly a ceremony to ensure a good crop of yams, and partly a rite of manhood. A tall tower is built by binding saplings and branches with vines to form a tower as much as 35m high. Strong vines act as stays on all sides. Small platforms are built at various heights - boys can do their first jump from the age of about 8 or 9, first on the shoulders of their father, then by themselves but from a lower platform. They tie liana vines round their ankles, and their hair (and only their hair) must touch the ground when they jump. The jumps take place in April and May, but we were able to see one of the towers - perched on the side of a hill with the patch below cleared of stones and dug to make a soft soil landing. It is absolutely taboo for anyone except the divers to climb the towers, and from various people we have heard a story of a newspaper man who climbed up to take photos and the tower fell down and either injured or killed him. Some say the supports were cut though others say that of course it collapsed as it was taboo for him to climb. Sorcery, magic and superstition are alive and well in these parts.

Doing the Laundry

Certainly no laundromats in this part of the world, so it is necessary to hunt for a good supply of fresh water. Usually this means collecting rain water - a rain catcher over the deck with hose attached, and various buckets at strategic points to catch what pours off the cockpit cover. The first collection is for laundry and washing, then we reckon it is clean enough to fill our drinking water containers. After that it is poured straight into our 100 litre water tank. If we can get the laundry washed while it is still raining, then the scuppers make a good rinsing spot. And it is very likely that after everything is hung out to dry it will rain again so giving it all an extra rinse.

Recently we have had a much more efficient and effective laundry. In Malekula there was a river we could get up in the dinghy. It was narrow and overhung with mangroves and huge banyan trees. Crabs scuttled up the trucks as we chugged along, and a local man was gently pushing tied bundles of logs along with his dug-out canoe to the spot where he was building a new house. We had to go quite a way up until the water tasted fresh rather than brackish, then while we drifted slowly back to the bay we rinsed sheets and towels in the clean if brownish water.

On the island of Pentecost a much faster flowing river was fresh right to the sea, so we only had to walk over a pebbly beach to stand in knee-deep water. A couple of boys came and chatted to us - one was the chief's son. They showed us a bit of cliff face where 'Cook' and a date were engraved. Capt Cook certainly went to that area, but who knows whether the engraving was genuine! Anyway they were nice lads, and shinned up a coconut tree to get us drinking coconuts.

It got better, because on the next island, Maewo, there was a beautiful waterfall that came right into the bay. The cool deep pool below the falls was perfect for a bath and hairwash as well as the laundry. Evidently at some stage the village received help to build a small hydro power station on the falls, but it didn't seem to be working while we were there, and the only lighting at night was from a couple of small generators. Maintenance is always a problem - there is a great lack of technical expertise in villages where most children only get primary education, and only the 'wealthy' can afford to send their children to a secondary school where they usually have to board. Visiting yachts often get asked for help for repairs, but the equipment is nearly always far too rusted and seized up.

The one thing that all the islands have is a cell phone mast, and a phone is something that is a prized possession. The mast, and a solar panel below it for charging up phones, has been provided by NZ or Oz aid. The sight of a woman sitting on the ground weaving panandas mats for the walls of her house, with a phone next to her is very incongruous.

Banam Bay Malekula Island VANUATU

This is the sort of island you read about in National Geographic. In 1969 the last victim went into the cannibal's earth oven (not boiled in a pot, that's a myth), and it is possible to trek up to one of the sacred places where many human bones are still lying around. A few of the older men have elongated skulls - their heads were bound as babies to make them more attractive. There are two main groups, the Big Nambas and the Small Nambas, so called because of their penis sheaths - the Big Nambas use large purple panandus fibres, while the Small Nambas just have one leaf. Needless to say, along the coast most people wear normal clothes, but traditions are still very strong for any special occasion - not just for the tourists of which there are very few.

It is not the place for women's lib., women squat when among men. If a Big Namba woman has pleased her husband he may permit her to take part in the 'tooth ceremony'. This involves her two front teeth being loosened and then knocked out with a stone. This gives her much greater status, and she has to pay a large number of pigs for the privilege. A tusked pig also has to be paid as a fine if she happens to watch any of the ceremonies, or rehearsals, that are only for men and tabu for women. On the other hand if a man goes under a woman's washing line (ie lowering himself to female work) he has to pay a fine, preferably in pigs (even tourists). The most valuable pigs are those whose tusks have grown into a complete circle - some top teeth are removed so the tusks are not ground down. We have noticed that when men paddle up to us in their dug-outs they much prefer to speak to G, and will ask where he is if he doesn't appear.

We are anchored in a lovely bay with a long white beach and a couple of small villages behind the trees. Yesterday they put on some dancing for us - we got together 8 boats from nearbye anchorages to make it worth their while. We were welcomed with leafy garlands, taken on a tour of the village, and welcomed by the chief. This is a Small Namba area, so the men of the village wore small penis sheaths of banana leaf tucked into a bark belt (Big Nambas have huge red leaves!). Some had feathers in their hair or beards, and some had seed pod rattles round their ankles. At this stage the women and children were not to be seen, and to watch the women's dancing we had to go to another clearing. They wore grass skirts, and had the babies and toddlers with them, some of whom just stood wide eyed looking at our white faces, others cried unless they were picked up. They don't get many boats visiting here, so the youngest children have probably never seen strange faces.

After several little speeches of thanks and lots of handshaking we were given coconuts to drink, and invited to eat some 'laplap'. This is a paste of yams cassava or taro mixed with coconut milk and laid out on banana leaves like a thick pastry. Pork, beef, chicken or fish may be added. It is wrapped in more leaves and cooked in an earth oven over hot stones. It was brown and crispy on top, and quite tasty.

Pegasus in Pentecost island

This is just to let everyone know that Pegasus has moved. Rumors have it that a more detailed update is coming up soon - the stories we blog keepers get to read are very good. Stay tuned.