To Market, To Market

The fresh produce markets in Vanuatu have been a source of great fascination. Some communities hold them just once a week while Port Vila seemed to be open for business daily. All the produce is incredibly fresh and has likely been grown organically. The presentation is fabulous too with ingenious use of bamboo sticks to create wands to support fruits, palm fronds to secure heads of lettuce or to create baskets for root vegetables.















By and large the biggest issue from our own perspective was the volume of the bundles:-11 lettuce, 1/2 kilo of chilli's (so potent that you can feel your corneas detaching) etc. Even partnering up and splitting/sharing a purchase is too much for a couple living on a boat! This makes me wonder at why their veggie bundles are the size they are. One can accept that a weekly market might mean that people may want to stock up, but out in the villages, people generally have a garden so they are probably just topping up. Our suspicion though, having noted how families seem to cluster in a compound, is that shoppers are buying for a whole family group; or that families are generally so large to necessitate these volumes.



The markets also sold flowers, firewood for cooking and river pebbles(also used in cooking).

Air Coconut

In the general scheme of things the island of Epi in Vanuatu is quite well endowed with facilities. The community at Lamen Bay, for instance, despite the absence of any sealed roads, does have a Primary and High School, a hospital and one of the two airstrips on the island. There are a couple of scheduled flights per week but the majority of flights seem to be random 'taxi' style flights aboard what looks to be an 8 seater.



We took a stroll along the roads and beach along Lamen Bay to take a closer look at the set-up. The community is split by a river which was silted-in at this time of year (dry season). Walking or driving required a deviation onto the beach that had formed at the river mouth.



It appears that the sand at the river mouth is worth bagging and we observed a couple of young fellows spading some into bags each evening.

Storm damage from cyclones clearly set back community development. The High School, the wharf and Airfield check-in all showing signs of damage, repair and even upgrade.










Observations of flights in and out from the anchorage vantage point would suggest that being a passenger is not for the feint of heart. The airstrip is the only flat bit of land for as far as the eye can see and there's not much if it.















Incredibly the pilots negotiate the little strip banking this way and that to plant their landings on the grass runway bordered by white painted car tyres. Then they taxi down to a passenger terminal adjacent to a turning circle. Hopefully they have their own drop down steps because the bottom step of the steps stored at the terminal was smashed through. The baggage handlers must have a powerful voice here because the most modern and serviceable item on display was the luggage trolly. Coconut Airlines thinks of everything!

For God's Sake

We have been having a highly emotional time in Vanuatu. Previous posts may already have indicated this. Today has topped it even though we might not have thought it possible.

The much younger crew from Frozzie took a dinghy ride yesterday to Lorlow, one of the other villages in South West Bay on Makakula. (There are 5 and we have so far spent our time with only 1). Tristan and Claudia were most surprised to find a white woman there and spoke with her. It turns out that she was visiting for the first time in many years and had been raised there by her missionary parents. The reason for her presence was to accompany her father, aged 91, for a final farewell visit to the village where he had been a missionary between 1954 and 1964. His health is failing (cancer, congestive heart failure) and had made the trip, despite contrary advice from his doctors. Luckily his daughter Wendy is a nurse and was assisting him. She insisted that we should all attend the Presbyterian Church service the next morning and that it would mean a lot to her if we would attend. 6 Yachts: 12 people, all having traveled from Queensland. Wendy's father, Pastor Ian Taylor, is now retired and lives at Kippa Ring on the outskirts of Brisbane so it must have seemed like serendipity for 12 people also from Queensland to arrive quite literally out of the blue for this special occasion. So we paired up and took 3 dinghies to 'the village with the Airstrip' about 1Km away and went to church on Sunday.
We were blown away. The service was attended by people from all 5 local villages. Some had walked several kilometers along the beaches at low tide. Some had taken a ride on heavily overloaded boats. The church at the top of the hill was built by Pastor Ian Taylor and named after him. A group of 9 year old boys were allocated the task of leading us to the church located up the hill. The path from the dirt road to the church entrance was lined with brightly coloured leaves and flowers in special celebration. Unbeknown to us, we 'grotty yachties' became special guests and were led to reserved benches at the front. Before long we were draped in garlands of frangipani. That were were there at all was entirely random and all of a sudden we became a part of the show.
The singing was stupendous and all of us found ourselves with tear filled eyes several times, especially when we listened to the respect and praise being paid to Ian Taylor. He had A son was born during his Missionary yeard arrived as a young man with his wife and two daughters aged 3 and 6 months.s whilst on furlough in Brisbane, but from what we could glean, didn't survive his father's posting. During Ian's 10 years as Missionary in SW Bay. He was responsible for the creation of an airstrip (carved out of the jungle), building a church, and school, a clinic and a hospital. All of these have been named after him High praise indeed. He is revered here and he himself had no idea that his final visit (he is quite clearly a very sick man) would initiate the extent of celebration and appreciation. We witnessed the community's gratitude and gift giving presentations. We were embarrassed in the end to be beneficiaries of a feast prepared for the whole district. Men had been sent out into the hills the day before to hunt a wild cow for the meal. We sat as treasured guests in a long community dining hut and had to participate in the feast.
In church Ian surprised everyone. Despite looking ashen and very stooped, when he stepped up to the lectern he appeared to grow 6 inches and spoke with a strong voice. A man reborn! During his sermon he decided to address us for a good part of it instead of the main congregation, by speaking in English rather than Bislama (Pigeon English). Perhaps he knew that in terms of the locals it was a case of 'Converted and job done' and we were likely the only godless people in the congregation and his ministry not yet complete. A final opportunity to save a few more souls from an unexpected source. This is a fellow who bought the last of the New Hebrides (old Vanuatu) bushmen in and persuaded a population to cease annibalism!! What he has achieved is incredible. The people here revere him and the respectful things we witnessed today were most humbling indeed.
Claudia and Tristan - SV Frozzie greeting Pastor Taylor after the service All we can say is that we are not visiting Vanuatu and seeing stuff that is necessarily asphysically beautiful as New Caledonia, for instance; we are witnessing something much deeper and more moving. Emotionally, our visit here is very costly. We feel like we've gone through a wringer. We recorded all the singing in church today. It needs a bit of amplification and tweaking, but when you hear excerpts, you'll feel the joy too. When we get back to Brisbane next month, we have arranged to visit Pastor Ian Taylor and his wife Val and give them a CD with the soundtrack. 40 minutes of singing from a service lasting well over 2 hours and one song composed for him. Tomorrow we move on to Dixon Reefs and hope to snorkel and recharge emotionally. For a change we had sunny skies today and the smoke from the volcano on Ambrym was much less. We still have a lot'stuff' to give away and only 2 more planned stops before we reach Luganville on Espiritu Santo (Santo for short). Once there we'll bepreparing for our passage home (via Chesterfield Reef), then checking out.

Arriving in Port Vila

Our 80nm passage from Erromango to Port Vila on the island of Efate was an overnighter departing at 16;00 so that we would arrive in the morning. Four weather models indicated 10-15knots from the SE and nothing about an ENE with the swell from the SE. With our shallow keel it was a pretty uncomfortable ride and not the lazy reach we'd hoped for. 90%+ humidity but no actual rain reduced our comfort factor still further. The cockpit teak had absorbed so much water you could be mistaken for thinking The Bloke has just sluiced the cockpit with a bucket of water. The Bloke appeared in the companionway after his rest-break donning a cotton rugby jersey and was sent below to switch to a polar fleece that wouldn't immediately absorb the ambient moisture and become chilled as the night progressed -What was he thinking?

We were the last of 4 boats to arrive in Port Vila as we are quite happy to sail under 'genoa only' at night at 5knots following the 'Captain Paul' rule of easy albeit slower night passaging. The others arrived before daybreak having raced one another and for no benefit. Yachting World - the local marina wouldn't be manned before 08:00 and we couldn't get to visit Customs for our Inter Island Cruising Pass until office hours. We had chosen the 16:00 start time and Squander (5 foot longer) chose follow suit. If timing your departure is to time your arrival, they could have left at 18:00!

Having obtained our clearance via email to enter Vanuatu via an undeclared port - in our case Port Resolution so we could visit the volcano, we were a little confused about our 'clearing in' responsibilities at Port Vila. Our document asked us to merely call into the Customs Office to obtain our Cruising Permit & provide more identification of our vessel and all fees would be payable on departure when 'clearing out' of the country. Immigration? Biosecurity? Nothing mentioned. We weren't the only ones confused. Squander and Frozzie had the same issue. We'd already been in the country a week and a half on the strength of an email reply to our emailed forms but logic does say, that at the very least, our passports needed stamping and someone in authority needed to know that we had actually arrived. We decided to ignore our 'permissions' and go through the 'clearing in' process anyway, only stopping short of flying our Pratique/ Q flag.

To our joy, Richard on Tauranga radio'd on the VHF to welcome us in. We were delighted to know our Queensland playfriends were here waiting for us although sad to learn that it was largely because their fridge was still being repaired. An ongoing issue since Noumea. Richard was able to update us on where Customs had moved to - a new building at the shipping harbour near where the cruise ships come in. Immigration was now in the former French Embassy and the building was being renovated and looked more like a bomb site than a government office. The newly formed Biosecurity Department was housed in a cupboard at the back of the Customs building Richard informed us. Directions to one of many ANZ ATM's were also given which is as well as the Erromangans had ensured that we departed only once every opportunity to use up our last VT on THEIR island had been exhausted.

None of the cruising literature is up-to-date or accurate. There wasn't even any information on the charts to show that the Chinese had, in the process of doing the Port upgrade, recently blasted a channel through a reef enabling tall masted vessels (over 23m) to enter the mooring field at the back of Irikiri Island without passing under the power lines! We need a 19.5m clearance height and The Bloke was hesitant about taking a mooring buoy as it would require us to pass under the lines which the charts had noted as having only 20m clearance. As it was, The Bloke was so busy waiving and talking to Richard as we passed their boat that he didn't even realise we'd just passed under the lines! I on the other hand, was paying attention and knowing we'd be fine, declined to tell him.



For a modest 1,600Vt (roughly 20AUD)per night we are on a mooring buoy in preference to anchoring in uncertain coral rubble. The cruising guide reassuring says you are lucky if you can snag a coral head to secure your anchor. Mmmmm? The option of a Mediterranean style berthing against a sea wall at Yachting World was passed up. Noise, privacy, security and 'nervy parking' issues.


The shore of Irikiri Island, just behind our mooring does not really give us a greater sense of certainty. Smashed up vessels of various descriptions litter the shore like scattered bath toys. There are showers and toilets ashore but we'll be using our own facilities - thanks all the same! (I'm recalling the toilets at KL airport 40+ years ago that were too disgusting to even vomit in. These ones on a parallel scale). Our laundry will be taken care of and line dried and folded for 1,000Vt per load. I think we'll be OK in that department.

The marina Bar and Grill seems OK and Happy Hour is going down a treat as Marianne is demonstrating for your benefit!




Armed with the 'up-to-date' information we set off by dinghy to Customs. We tied up alongside the customs vessel. The Biosecurity vessel was absent as they don't have one yet. The contrast between the vast, modern and air conditioned Customs office and the Biosecurity office can't be understated. It's clearly under resourced and it will take a lot of cruiser's 5,000Vt payments before things change. In addition to lacking a vessel with which to board a vessel (and interdepartmental jealousy would suggest they don't often get a ride on the Customs boat), they also lack presence. Their office is basically a windowless storeroom afterthought at the rear of Customs and barely larger than a walk-in robe in which are located 3 staff, 2 desks, 4 chairs, 1 filing cabinet and a couple of cartons supporting their coffee mugs and lunch plates. If your shoe size were greater than 8.5 you'd probably have to stand on one leg or sit on someone's lap! We left the premises 5,000Vt lighter in the wallet.



We left Immigration for day 2. It was as Richard described, a bomb site. Filing cabinets were jammed along the balconies, workmen were haphazardly going about their thing and directed us up muddy stairs and passageways to the sound of jackhammers to Lyn's office. We knew her name was Lyne because every item surrounding her was labelled thus. Behind her was a server hub with wires spewing everywhere. We were invited to fill in Passenger Arrival forms and handed a biro that she kept in her fuzzy hair for ready access. It was pointless mentioning that we'd already submitted these forms on-line. They'd never have been passed on. If they had, she'd never find them in all this chaos. We were invited to sit at a little desk and free up the counter. At least the office was air conditioned amid the the dust, noise and humidity and was probably the reason 'Mummy' was seated in an armchair below the window and occasionally nodding off while reading her large-print library book. Lyne was multitasking.

Our passports were duly stamped and for the pleasure we were invited to contribute a further 4,800Vt to the Vanuatu economy. This created a slight 'situation' as our money was either too much or not enough. Payment must be in cash and the cashier was absent just now. Our smaller denominations left us 50Vt short. Lyne was searching her own purse to ensure she could tick us off in her KPI's for the day when a Kiwi Islander arrived and gifted a 50Vt coin with a huge grin!

Anyway, we are all 'legal' now and able to guiltlessly roam Port Vila which despite only being 80nm away from Erromango, might just as well be another planet!

Ship To Nowhere

Returning from our 'Ancestor Cave' visit we were surprised to find a supply vessel anchored off the Williams River. Not only that but it looked like a sizeable number of the village population were assembled on the pebble beach.

Donald and David explained that this was a supply boat from Port Vila and it came a couple of times a month. The people on the beach were intending passengers plus their families seeing them off.



The various fertilizer bags filled with pebbles we'd noticed on the shores earlier were also destined for Port Vila, the rounded river stones being much in demand for traditional cooking.



Since passengers could only be loaded on half a dozen at a time, the process was a lengthy one and we watched for a couple of hours until finally the vessel headed out of the bay. It didn't even get out of sight before it turned back and then anchored.



It remained anchored overnight and at dawn, passengers were being ferried ashore.




A few hours later, what was identified as an engine problem was rectified and the whole embarkation process recommenced. Once they were under way again, we took the opportunity to check AIS. Yup, just as we had guessed - if we encounter one of these 'cruise to nowhere' vessels in coming weeks we'll need to rely on our eye balls. There's no AIS on these rust buckets!

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Dillons Bay, Erromango - Day 2

The locals are filling our program as if we might leave before they've had a chance to show us everything and earn enough gifts. From our standpoint they have set a cracking pace and I don't know that we've been 'on the clock' to this degree in a long while.


At 7am The Bloke was downloading the weather from Predictwind Wind with a 07:30 sched to broadcast to all the boats in the bay. By yesterday morning there were 5 and by yesterday evening 7!


We'd offered to take our sewing machine ashore so that the crew of Navigator could repair a badly torn UV strip on their genoa. They had been beaten up en route from Southport to Vanuatu. 6m seas they said! Frozzie also needed a small fix to prevent further deterioration to their UV strip. David was most obliging and we welcomed the use of a clean concrete floor with a solid table and bench seats.

By 08:00 we were in the dinghy with my Sailrite machine which is herniatigly heavy and a real bitch to lug up the companionway and through the cockpit. Luckily, David, as ever, was on the pebbly beach enthusiastically assisting. He'd never had a sail repair performed in his 'Yacht Club' before. You could see that he was registering it as an additional benefit he could offer passing sailors. This guy is completely 'on the pace' and entrepreneurial. The 3 Navigator crew brought their generator ashore to power my machine and by the time my power board was set up with it's 2 USB ports, mobile phones appeared from thin air for this not-to-be-missed 5 hour charging opportunity marathon. Word spread through the village grape vine pretty fast!


We left the guys to it to focus on getting up the river in the dinghy with my washing at high tide. It's navigable as far as an extensive pebble cascade which is of course where the washing could be done in among the rock pools. If we didn't time it right we'd have trouble crossing the bar.

The river is fed by a natural spring further up the valley. The village water supply is tapped at the head. A group of Aussies from Gladstone visit annually and have set up water pipes so that most family compounds have access to running water.



Theses folk have great access to water despite living in a rain shadow. The river enables the community to water their veggie gardens. They call them their 'gardens' and each family has it's own. The kinds of crops are coconut, banana, guava, pawpaw, casava, taro, manoc, pumpkin and cabbage. There are some mango trees too. It hasn't rained here for 2 months so their irrigation efforts  (hand watering) are critical for their subsistence crops. Some gardens have been fenced in a variety of ways to try and keep wild pigs out. Villagers keep dogs for wild pig management and cats to manage mice near their shops and food stores. The concept of patting and petting animals here is bizarre. All animals earn their keep and are scrawny except for the chickens and pigs which they of course intend to eat.

Banyan Tree

The Bloke dropped me off with 2 weeks worth of washing and returned to the boat for some boat chores. Meantime I had a novel experience rubbing and scrubbing away in the flowing river water in the company of a couple of other yachties. I laid out washed items on rocks midstream until the breeze picked up and a passing, and most helpful local fellow recommended draping stuff on shrubs on the riverbank so it wouldn't blow away and get wet again.

A couple of little girls came to watch and wanted to help with the 'draping' of my stuff. One noticed I had some washing balls in my tub. The pellets inside make a rattle sound. It wasn't long before these were offered to her. She accepted them in a heartbeat and was seen later in the afternoon showing off her bright blue trophies.

While we were washing, a large group of villagers assembled on the riverbank just downstream of the pebble race. My little helper told me there would be a baptism taking place. Actually, it wasn't just one but more like 50. The night before, we'd almost been kept awake by a 2 hour religious sermon (tirade) being broadcast over a PA system somewhere in the village. It was a fire and brimstone lecture from what we could determine from the booming bislama (pigeon english). This guy could talk under wet cement. He never seemed to pause or even to draw breath. This pastor is a Seventh Day Adventist (the locals call them SDA) and only gets to Erromango once or twice per year from the island of Pentecost further north, so they save up the baptisms for a 'job lot'. We just happened to be there to watch them bear witness to their faith. Dressed in European black dress trousers, a white shirt and black tie, the pastor waded out into waist deep water and dunked each of his new white-clad disciples one by one after proclaiming and praying over each one. There was no doubting this chap's commitment. It was really hot and that was backing up from his marathon preaching session the night before.

All ready for an open air screening of religious messages

The poor Bloke had completed his boat jobs and was on his way to help/fetch me when he encountered the mass baptism and felt compelled to stand off rather than paddle past. After a while and resigned to the idea he was in for a long wait, dropped an anchor and sat it out, getting sunburn for his trouble.


It was after 12 when we returned to the the boat. There was washing to hang on the rails and a snack to prepare for our 1pm visit to the kindergarten. A withering pace and we were already a bit buggered from the morning activity. Tick tock.

We didn't want to disappoint Donald who'd arranged the shared meal. In the time available I was a bit pressed to think of what to contribute. I looked in the fridge and one of my food lockers and struck gold. Firstly the wand of mandarins I'd bought in Lenekal and had no hope of finishing - all kids love little mandarins and I had correctly assessed them as a rarity here. The wand presentation is fun too. Next I had some walnuts which are sweet, soft and unheard of. I found a tin of tiny Plumrose cocktail frankfurters which I quickly heated and popped in a thermos, the toothpicks with little flags on made them look like little sailboats. I peeled and chopped a couple of straight-from-the-ground carrots into sticks - also from the Lenakel markets and then the real trophy - A RED APPLE.

Donald

The Bloke watched 10 pairs of 'eyes on stalks' look at what I held in my hand. I quite casually had thought they might not get apples in Dillons Bay very often and wanted them to see it whole rather than sliced. I was more right than I thought. These kids had never ever seen an apple even though their phonetic alphabet starts with 'A is for apple, B is for ball, etc'. I'm sorry I didn't give them a chance to hold it. The slicing was witnessed in total awe and the sharing wildly enthusiastic. It was our last apple on board and I couldn't in a lifetime imagine such happy recipients!

They either don't grow carrots here or never eat them raw, so my 'munch and crunch' selection finished up a huge hit. Our food contribution was the only one intended just for the kids and I had a lot of fun with them. After the food was gone I showed them my 'zebra feet'. I wore sandals while washing in the sun earlier and the tops if my feet had a striped pattern as a consequence. They probably imagine white skinned people are the same colour all over and now they know that it 'ain't necessarily so!

Our day program was far from over. We were all very hot by this stage and ready for a swim. Donald, our 'black' village brother as he called himself, led us through the gardens deeper in the valley up to the water hole for a welcome dip and break from commitments.

It was 4'ish by the time we were returning to our dinghies and it was clear that people were returning from a day's work in their gardens, some women still carrying bunches of canes and pandanus leaves atop their head. Mothers were walking around with babies on their hips soothing them through the 'thunder hour', men and children otherwise invisible all day, were bathing in the river and unwinding in the receding light.

David's wife explaining the dishes

Our day was not yet over but now following a more familiar pattern. We'd organized to go ashore for sunset BYO drinks on David's Yacht Club balcony, to be followed by our pre-booked 500Vt per head feast. By this time, our numbers were 13 heads. A worthwhile exercise for David's family for sure. They made a huge effort and further decorated the clubhouse with branches of coloured foliage and bougainvilleas.

A wonderful, if full day! We are 'off duty' tomorrow and have declined to attend church, all 9 of them!

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Dillons Bay, Erromango - Day 1

Well this place, Dillons Bay, is famous for the fact that in the early 1800's one guy named Williams was killed, his outline etched on a rock, and then cannibalised. Nice work. The missionaries after the 1830's persuaded the locals that this was not so good. Phew -Just in time!




The most southerly Island in the Vanuatu chain is Anatom and it, and the adjacent 'Fantasy Island' , are frequently visited by cruise ships. The next in line is Tanna, famous for it's volcano and coffee. After that is Erromango. It's infamy is cannabalism. Perhaps it's why it is less visited, even today.

We have had another massively overwhelming experience. On arrival, David from the 'Dillons Bay Yacht Club' paddled out in his dugout canoe to welcome us and inform us of our 'visitors program' for the next day! We were more that a little surprised but most pleased in the same breath.


David explained that they had expected the NZ based Island Cruising Association Rally to visit after going to the volcano at Tanna. Instead 15-20 vessels sailed right on past. They were crushed! No matter, we are here now, our party of 3 boats from our Rally later followed by some Aussie/Kiwis on Navigator. After our outing today our number swelled to 5 boats with the arrival of yet another vessel from Port Resolution. The locals are feeling loved again.


We've had a conducted tour of the 'Yacht Club', an introduction to the main Chief (Jason) a visit to the fresh water rock pool, school etc. After lunch we were taken to some caves where ancestors bones are kept. The Bloke was uncharacteristically brave going into one of them. The other involved climbing with the assistance of banyan tree roots, so that was declared a 'pass'. Some of the overhead rocks are held together by the roots of banyan trees. Forget your Occupational Health and Safety rules here!

Paddling over the reef

David standing next tp some banyan tree roots below one of the caves

The Bloke adjusting his head torch preparing to go down among the dead men!

Overall I can't believe what we've got up to on this trip:- trekking, snorkeling, caving, climbing, swimming in rock pools, climbing volcanoes, riding in the back of utes up winding and steep dust tracks. Feeling a bit like Bear Grylls!

Tomorrow, the girls are going to do washing. Very droll except we will do it in their Williams River (yup, casually recalling the guy who got eaten) and we'll smash our laundry against the rocks native style!

67 year old David is the visionary behind the 'Yacht Club'. He understands that they can't attract cruise boats here (lack of infrastructure like a wharf and roads) but yachties like us, will and can come. We are self contained and can bring with us some cash for traded items like fresh produce, meals, visits to caves etc... plus we bring know-how and some practical donations. He has built a little 'club house' using river pebbles and other materials and has been at it since 2007. 10 years. That's persistence for you!


Tomorrow we will use the club house to repair the UV strip on 2 yachts using my sewing machine. In the evening we have arranged for David's wife to prepare a meal for us all for 500Vt each. We'll BYO sundowner drinks. This is a perfect example of the benefit of David's vision. We discovered that he could order us some baked bread too for 150Vt a loaf. We arranged 4 loaves and David delivered it the same evening aboard his dugout! It's hilarious and fabulous in equal measure.

David has asked us for a pair of shorts. Considering that the Bloke is way bigger than David we are unsure what we can come up with. We have a couple of balls for him too since yachties ahead of us, emailed a request. Coincidentally there was a 'special' at the supermarket in Noumea so we were able to buy 2 soccer balls, a rugby and a basket ball to give away during our travels north.

Just before we went ashore yesterday a fisherman in a tinnie called us to the back of the boat. Did we have any 2stroke oil? He was looking at our outboard motor and guessing there was a 50/50 chance it was a 2 stroke motor. He was offering pawpaws or other stuff. We realised later that the pawpaws are highly prized after the last cyclone; need to be tended and watered and might take 2 years before they will fruit. The Bloke asked for some crayfish in return instead. The look on the guys face as Brian handed him 1/2 a container (2L) of oil was priceless. He assured us he would return with crayfish and he wouldn't forget. True to his word, he returned at 8:30pm with a boatcfull of fellow villagers to hand us 2 crayfish, plus a bug (1 cray was a 'Dongara Cray' or what we'd call under-size). The following day, the same fellow, now understanding that crays were a 'currency', made a tour of the other anchored boats wanting to trade crayfish for 5L of petrol. On the ball that one!

Meal in a bucket?

We are having an experience money can't buy!

Cyclone Pam smashed this community of 800 a couple of years ago. It destroyed all their crops. They are subsistence farmers and were completely cut off, even from the community on the other side of the island. They lived off coconuts and vine roots until assistance reached them. A few died of starvation. We are withering at the thought of these hard working people in such hardship. Our near neighbours!



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