Tag Archives: kava

Vanuatu in June 2017: Living Dreams, Part III Land Diving & more

Saturday morning, a couple hours before sunrise, we pulled anchor from Ranon Bay, Ambrym, and headed north for Wali Bay on the southwestern side of Pentecost Island. By 8:30 am our anchor was set, aligned with 4 other yachts. Just as quickly as the day before, we headed to the beach. Spent phone cards broke up phone calls to the chief as he called from several different phones to guide us. We would not meet until after the diving. Plan B: Follow the crowd, and that’s what we did. The other yachties had pre-planned the land diving tour with Luke and his daughter, Aileen, the very same people Dr. Alan suggested. Again, Luke and Aileen’s faces lit aglow on the mention of Dr. Alan and Debora, reminiscing about their time spent together.

The cruisers met at the beach, ambled north toward the village of Londot where Luke met us on the way to the communal hut designate. Seated in the hut, Luke described how land diving got its start. There are various versions, but they have a common thread. A girl/young lady, to escape the unwanted advances of a male, climbed a tree, tied her ankles to something on top of the tree (the tree type and tying materials differ per version). As he approaches, she jumps and he after her. She’s saved, he falls to his death. The sport is born. Flash forward hundreds of years and here we are. A 68’ tower of sticks, tethered to a hillside, supports several dive heights. The lower diving platforms are for child beginners; the middle platforms are for teens, the highest, for the experienced adults. A male-only sport, children are free to decide whether they wish to participate or not. No shame if they do not. Jumpers apprentice under the more experienced. Injuries are said to occur only for those impure of heart and action. A successful jump lays testament to a clean and pure life. As the jumper prepares, placing himself closer and closer to the jump off point, a small crowd of topless women, older men, and young boys chant and whistle encouragement. The jumper’s ankles are tied with freshly cut vines of a particular tree, at a specific length, by those trained to select and cut the vines and tie the knots. They straighten out the vines and move away as the jumper steps forward on the end of the meter long diving board, to which the other end of the vines are tied. He takes a moment to gain his balance. The supporters’ sing louder and louder, whistling. He claps, slaps his chest, prays, and/or all of the above before finally jumping. All hold their breath collective breath as he hits the softened dirt below.

Land Dive village supporters, Pentecost, Vanuatu.
Most heralded Land Diver on Pentecost Island, Vanuatu preparing for his last dive of the year 2017!

The loud, crisp snap of his dive platform coincides with his earthly contact, absorbing some of his energy before final contact. All are pleased the jumper appears unharmed as the vines are cut from his ankles with a brisk whack of a machete. Aileen proudly points out that her 14 year-old son, Willy, is to jump. He, like the others before him, is successful. Having started with the youngest jumper, we’ve worked our way up to the highest and final jump. Not just for today, but for the entire 2017 season. He is an experienced and celebrated diver from another village. He is calm, assured, and unassuming as his nearly naked body adeptly scales the scaffolding to the highest point. His leap is graceful and successful. He’s pleased. I take my picture with him and climb the base of the tower to claim one of the cut vine ends with its soft lashings still affixed.

Eric Rigney excited to pose with the most celebrated land diver, Pentecost Island, Vanuatu.

The sailors assemble below at the seating area. Though a seating area exists, we were allowed unfettered access to photograph the event from any angle, with the caveat that women not touch the vines. Gathering together for the walk back to the seaside communal hut, we all seem slightly stunned by the shared privilege of such an extraordinary demonstration of a first people. We sailors were the only audience. Regardless of audience, land-divers jump on Saturday. They do it for themselves, for their tradition, not for tourists, not for money. The money they get from tourists ($80 per person in our case) goes to all those involved, helping encourage the young and old alike to participate, to keep the tradition alive.

At the communal hut, unbeknownst to Leslie and I, a lunch of traditional Vanuatu dishes was included, complete with a drinking coconut. To top it off, we were invited to return at 4 p.m. to share kava with the village and the jumpers. Traditionally a man-only event, the yachting women were invited to participate in the kava drinking. So we of course returned. What made the drinking even more special was the use of fresh kava made from a huge root ball harvested that afternoon. Typically kava today is served from powdered kava, soaked in water and strained. Kava, we learned, takes 10-12 years to grow before the root is ripe for drinking. Pentecost, as with many Vanuatu islands, cultivate kava for export. Bryce was allowed to participate in the kava mashing process as village chief, Peter Bebe, oversaw.

We each drank a coconut cup of kava. One was enough for me, and too much for others. Some slyly poured their undrunk kava on the ground. The boys seemed fond of it, consuming 3 cups of the mildly bitter mouth numbing solution. Kava relaxes. It’s not very intoxicating. Some suggest that were Melanesians and Polynesians to stay with kava, forgoing alcohol, they’d all be better off. That said, I heard stories of villagers drinking a lot of kava at a sitting, acting out a bit more than normal, so I don’t know . . . as always, all things in moderation.

As with the rest of our whirlwind tour, we pulled anchor early in the morning and sailed to the island just north of Pentecost where Dr. Alan described one of the world’s most beautiful bays accessible only by boat. Asanvari Bay on Maewo did not disappoint.

Asanvari Bay on the southern tip of Maewo Island is a veritable Shangri-La, complete with waterfall, beautifully tree-shaded white sand beach, rock outcrops, clear water, and excellent snorkeling. An unintended tour by a local 15 year-old gave us a quick glimpse of this isolated paradise. The village boasts 2 hyper-basic yacht clubs, small church, schoolhouse, and micro store. Wish we had had more time to meet those whom Dr. Alan had spelled out. Unfortunately, the villagers were absent, attending the funeral of a 15 year-old, who had passed away due to illness.

Asanvari Bay, Maewo, Vanuatu.

And yet again, with our three-day, three-island tour ending, we were off the next day, Monday, June 26th, with another early morning departure to arrive that same afternoon at our next stop: nearby Espiritu Santos Island, two islands away. Dr. Alan and others recommended grabbing a buoy at the Aore Resort, across the channel from Luganville, the main city on Santo and our port of departure. When we arrived, we discovered the 3-4 buoys the hotel maintained were claimed by other visiting yachts, and although we could have grabbed a neighboring property’s mooring buoy, with the day growing late, we elected to cross the channel and anchor on the lee shore in front of the Beachfront Resort, even though we had been warned that only days earlier, a boat was boarded and robbed of its electronics.

Beachfront Resort Sunset.

The resort proved very yacht friendly. Having read that Luganville had been the US’s second largest naval base after Hawaii, we were interested in getting a US history tour, as recommended by Dr. Alan. Over 500,000 troops were stationed here in the early 40’s, including James Michener, the base historian. It was from here where Michener researched what would become his “Tales of the South Pacific,” later turned into a stage musical and movie, “South Pacific.” During WWII, the US military built Luganville from uninhabited swampland; all of Luganville’s significant infrastructure comes from that period with the exception of a very new harbor presently being built by the Chinese. After the war, when leaving Luganville, US manufactures didn’t want to compete with military surplus so the government agreed not to return any of the hardware. The US offered the machinery at a very low price to the French and British who “governed” the colony. Thinking the US couldn’t possibly afford to move all that equipment elsewhere, they said “No thanks.” So US forces built a temporary jetty and drove all the equipment into the deep end of the channel, nicknamed “Million Dollar Point” after that.

Million $ Point remains from WWII military equipment.

We walked the beach and found many, many remnants. I especially liked finding Coke bottle bottoms with Oakland, CA and Seattle, WA molded into the glass. Additionally, several US ships sunk while making their way into this top-secret naval base. The largest, the USS President Coolidge, was a passenger-liner converted troop carrier. It struck two not-so-friendly US mines. All but 2 aboard survived: a fireman near the location of the mine strike, and an Army captain who, after having rescued 6 others, could not be rescued himself. Having heard the wreck was one of the best on record, Leslie endeavored to set us up with a dive with Allan Powers Diving Co. It was spectacular! The dive was simple. You walk in the sandy shallows about 50 yards before descending nearly straight down to the bow of the tilted hull below.

The dive guide showed us all around the shallowest part: the front half of the ship. A real tour guide, he uncovered or pointed out pieces of crusty warfare from hiding places: rifles, gas masks, plates and cups, and so on. Because we’d dove deeper than 100’, we had to make a couple decompression stops. It was well orchestrated and an experience of a lifetime, one of several we got to experience in less than 2 weeks.

For our last day, we rented a small car and drove up the east coast of Espirtu Santos Island. Having seen signs pointing out “Blue Hols,” we turned off the main road toward the first one we saw: Riri Blue Hol. Wow! The water was so clear and the setting so magical and playful; it was a jungle pool paradise, complete with rope swings and makeshift diving platforms. We had so much fun. And when a busload of Australian missionary teenagers arrived, for the first time in a long time, Bryce and Trent were surrounded by their own “kind.”

On the road to Port Olry, east coast of Espiritu Santo Island, Vanuatu.

The next stops where Champagne Beach in exotically beautiful Hog Harbor and Port Olry just north of it. Champagne Beach is named for is powdered-sugar fine white sand, a place ideal for a Sports Illustrated swimsuit shoot, with knotted trees overhanging the fascinating sand.

Eric and Bryce Rigney enjoying Champagne Beach’s fine sand.

With the sun ready to set, Port Olry was a quick stop, a place for the boys to run around on a sand spit that joined a small island with the larger. Port Olry, is not a developed modern port. It is a simple fishing village located at the end of a lovely paved two-lane road, a good distance away from the city ruckus.

Leslie Rigney with BnT mucking around in the background at Port Olry, Santo, Vanuatu.

The site offers beautiful beachscapes with warm friendly faces sporting fresh white smiles.On the way back, we stopped at some fruit stands to pick up some vegetables and fruits for our upcoming Darwin, Australia passage. Taking advantage of the car, we did our last minute shopping that night, provisioning Kandu for her 20-day crossing.

Vanuatu is an ancient land in a modern time. I have mixed feelings about the place. Although the people were fantastic, I sensed unease among them, possibly overshadowed by elements of international and domestic greed and corruption. A land of dugout canoes surrounded by Australian prices, a cost of living higher than that of French Polynesia, Samoa, or Fiji: it felt a bit lopsided, a recipe for future trouble. Still, it was a ‘nambawan’ dream come true: Jacques Cousteau, National Geographic’s, and Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom rolled into one. Thanks to Seven Seas Cruising Association hosts Dr. Alan and Debora, our experiences of Vanuatu will be cherished forever, or until I die, whichever comes first. Between now and then, I hope I never make a mistake that causes someone to want to eat me.

Port Olry fishing boats, Santo, Vanuatu.

 

 

 

 

Leslie’s Letters: Apia, Upolu, Samoa

Local Samoan fishing boats

Wednesday, May 24, 2017

Hello my beloved parents,

We have been ever frustrated by our Internet connection in Samoa’s Capital, Apia, on the island of Upolu. Finally after a week, Eric has figured out the best method and now we have specifically purchased data sims to install into our phones in order to create hotspots to link our computers. I imagine this is going to be an ongoing struggle in each country we visit.

We plan to leave for Fiji tomorrow morning. Before we throw-off the lines, I’ll head over to the outdoor market to get some fresh fruit. I did find some tomatoes and apples this morning at a stiffer than usual price (everything here is discounted 60% for us with our great strong dollar exchange rate) than the local fruits, but still not expensive. For example, we can go to a decent restaurant (albeit not the most high end) and instead of paying US$70, we pay at the most US$35 for the four of us, and that includes drinks. We are charged about US$6.00 for an ATM fee. I find that fee a bit stiff actually…and then we have our own 1% bank fees at First Entertainment Credit Union. We stopped using our BofA account to withdraw cash because they charge 3%. I try to figure all those fees in when calculating our personal exchange rate.

Eric has been getting the run-around with immigration. One person says one thing and another says something else. We had wanted to go to the neighboring Samoa island Savai’i, but customs is requiring that we return and clear immigration from Apia, Upolu. I was actually told that when we first arrived, but Eric had spoken to someone else that said the contrary and didn’t believe me. So instead of departing tonight, we will be departing for Fiji tomorrow early morning, which, in fact, is really, really good. It makes all of us happy to have a sound night’s sleep as night watches are not our favorite, plus the constant movement and noises make for light sleeping. It will be a five-day sail to Fiji.

Sounds like you had a lovely and relaxing time in La Quinta getting to visit with Kay and Don and engaging in a lot of reading. Trent has gotten involved in a new series of 11 books: “The Ranger’s Apprentice” by John Flanagan, given to us by our La Cruz Mexico friends in pdf form. We loaded the entire series on his Kindle. He’s having a blast reading to his heart’s content. We got the new replacement Kindle from Michele and Ron, but now cannot find Trent’s – so back to two. We must find that Kindle! In Fiji, I guess we’ll unload the boys’ water toys from their ‘forecastle’ room and seriously dig around in the forward sail bins. We think it fell down into one of the bins when their bed boards were lifted up to store away the sails. Sigh.

Tasa and Leslie at the Ocean Trench park

Here in Suva, we were very fortunate to hook-up with a wonderful woman, Tasa, the first Samoan female passenger air pilot. She is on break from flying to take care of her aging parents, meanwhile making a living as a tour guide and masseuse extraordinaire. She popped over the first evening with the most remarkably delicious ice-cold beers in hand – the Samoan ‘Taula’ with no added preservatives (we never drank another brand while in Samoa as it was soooo tasty). Tasa is beautiful, amazingly friendly, intelligent, upbeat and enormously helpful. I think I found in her another friend for life. We spent a full Saturday afternoon with her touring the complete island and swimming the beautiful ‘To Sua Ocean Trench’ freshwater cave pool in the rain where the boys jumped 35-45 feet into the deep pool. Plus she directed us how to find the somewhat hidden Salani Surf Resort in the dark. Upon arrival at the resort, we made reservations for the following Monday morning (no surfing on Sundays due to church dictates) to surf at the renowned Samoan surf-site two days later. On top of all that, she insisted on doing our laundry, nor did I want to miss out on one of her massages performed in her spectacular semi-outdoor forest setting home. She made sure that we had papayas, lemons, and lemongrass a-plenty from her garden. Such generosity.

On a side note – the Salani Surf Resort ended up a bust. We had specifically rented a car for the occasion and left Kandu at 4:30 in the morning to drive to the other side of the island and arrive in time for the first boat out at 6:10 am. When we arrived there with the boys ramped up excited to go, the surf authority dude (a little Napoleon type) approached me and aggressively, in my face, spouted: “There is no way I am taking these boys out to surf the wave. The ‘reservation’ you made was not legitimate, and since you aren’t staying at the resort, there is nothing I can or will do to accommodate you.” Considerably affronted, we reloaded the boards back into our rental van and drove off to find surf at any of the other known surf sites in the area. Unfortunately, there were no waves to surf at the other southern sites: Boulders, Siumu nor Coconuts, so we drove back to Salani, the only site with some waves due to the strong southeast swell. Since we had heard you could paddle out to the reef break, we looked for the beachfront entrance accessed through a local village. A helpful woman on the road pointed us in the right direction, and we pulled into the village area surrounded by homes and a small local store adjacent to the surf-site. The boys were so excited that they took off like banshees for the water, surf shirts, sunblock zinc paste, and surfboards in hand. Eric approached the nearest local women to ask permission for the boys to surf, explaining that we had tried to surf through the Salani Surf Resort, but had been turned away even though we were willing to pay their expensive fees. With sympathy towards ‘boys’ and since she owned the beachfront, for a small fee, she generously allowed Bryce and Trent to disembark from her land to surf, even though she and the village had exclusively leased out the rights to surf the ‘Salani wave’ to The Salani Surf Resort. Three hours later when the boys returned happy and well exercised, they reported that Mr. Napoleon-surf-dude was not happy to see them, but he didn’t utter a word edgewise. Turns out that Bryce and Trent were as skilled as or better than most of the resort surfers that day!

Whenever Eric checks into a country he is full of smiles, and with upbeat energy he asks where to find the best local places to eat. Suggested by staff members of the cruising permit office for a ‘local experience’ was The Sunrise Café where Eric and Bryce both ordered a plate of fried chicken, taro and banana. It was simply that – the taro and banana were boiled and served w/o sauce. We didn’t return. Upon the advice of Curtis, Eric hunted down the little known local delicacy ‘Pangi Popo’ (sweet buns in fresh coconut cream custard) only available in two bakery’s: Mari’s on the beach front or at Myna’s, a rather isolated grocery store. They were finger dripping good. We also ate a delicious meal at Giordano’s Wood Fire Pizza Garden Restaurant. However, The Seafood Gourmet, across from the marina, became our hangout for inexpensive healthy options and ice cream. Unabashedly, we did go to McDonald’s once or twice for a taste of home. And aside from the ‘Pangi Popo,’ the other pastries available were also quite delicious. There are buns and doughnuts filled with cream and ever-so-soft-n-tasty cinnamon buns, plus an interesting hard cookie biscuit made with pig lard and sugar. It’s salty yet sweet: a rather pretty’n tasty substitute for breakfast toast.We enjoyed our movie fix in the evenings seeing four American movies in a lovely modern cinema theater. We felt spoiled because it was soooo cheap for the four of us: US$4.00 per ticket. We were thrilled to attend a fabulous and free four-hour presentation at the Tourism Cultural Center including real traditional tattooing, cloth painting, carving, tapa cloth tapping and scraping, dancing and singing, palm frond weaving of headbands, and a taste of their ceremonial drink, Kava. In fact, Eric and I hunted for Kava everywhere in the open market, super markets, Chinese stores, and finally found it in small 4-ounce quantities for US$6/bag at the flea market. Whew! We were told that we needed it to present to chiefs in Vanuatu when arriving in their villages. While at the flea market around 4:00pm when the kids are returning home from school, we saw the most incredible parade of brightly decorated buses loading up to travel to the far sides of the island. Each truck-bus was sponsored by a local restaurant or organization as advertisement! Fun! On our own time with the rental car, we extensively explored the island getting to swim with the fish in the iridescent aqua freshwater Piula Cave Pool. It was an extraordinarily refreshing experience during that hot and humid day. On another day, we had more energizing fun at the Papase’ea Sliding Rocks close to the University of the Pacific in Apia. Being in Apia on a Sunday, Eric and I got up early to attend a church service at the extraordinary Immaculate Conception of Mary Cathedral located on the main Beachfront Blvd. Already at 7:00 am, we were late getting there only hearing the tail end of the service, yet what we heard were the most incredible mix of native sounding Catholic liturgical hymns. They were uplifting and deeply emotionally stirring when surrounded by an exceptionally beautiful and grandiose interior.We’re all in decent spirits – not excited for 5 days at sea, but ready to leave Samoa. It has been a fabulously profound time here with such delightful people and arresting beauty. We never seem to have quite enough time to discover everything. Sadly, we missed visiting the two Samoan museums in town. But, the boys got to surf the famous Salani reef – which is the most important thing in their book, and therefore in ours! It’s been a spectacular visit.

Oh – one of the reasons we wanted to come to Samao for was to meet up with Eric’s Samoan family through his Uncle Dan. Auntie Lori is from Upolu and her grandparents are still alive. We got a chance to see them at their Bartlay store – Amazing!

Had better sign off. I’m glad you well received the cards – I penned those poems. A little corny – but straight from the heart! Hey – there is a fantastic cribbage app that you can add to your phone. It teaches you how to make the best moves and which cards are the most appropriate to discard from your hand. Trent, Bryce and I all played it so much during our night watches that we’re already rather bored by the game. I’m trying to get them to play a threesome. Probably will succeed during this next five-day passage.

Sending you virtual saltwater and salty hugs – Leslie