LOCAL BEAUTY QUEEN - New Zealand Redux
15 September 2009
OVERVIEW: 
Vanuatu, the archipelago formerly known as "The New Hebrides", sits in the midst of the volcanic area known as the ‘ring of fire’. Until 1980, the country was governed by the Anglo-French Condominium government. At times Vanuatu feels like the end of the earth.
Vanuatu (total population approx. 210,000) is simultaneously simple and complex. It is simple in that it remains a traditional patriarchal society based largely upon subsistence
agriculture. Vanuatu is complex in that it still actually has dual government, legal, economic and religious systems. This is a situation that can only lead to interesting complexities in day-to-day life.
The elected parliamentary government has
been in existence since independence was granted. The parallel 'Kastom' (traditional) government of local chiefs not only remains in-place, but plays an important role in daily life in all parts of the country. Chiefs may still enact local laws and people still defer to the wishes of their chiefs. We understand that , on a case-by-case basis, at least some local chiefs may still decide that a law passed by the parliament does not apply to their people. 
Theoretically, this allows the people of such a chief to commit with impunity what would otherwise be considered crimes. If a person committing a crime not sanctioned by a chief wishes to have a more lenient hearing, we understand that a rapid appeal to the National Council of Chiefs (before the Police get involved) is advised.
There are two forms of currency in Vanuatu: 'Kastom', primarily in the form of pig tusks, and the western-style currency issued by the Reserve Bank of Vanuatu. The economies supported by the two 
currencies overlap in some places although not in others. For example, currency is little valued in most of the islands as there is nothing much to buy with it.
Finally, there is religion. Christian missionaries were very active in Vanuatu in the nineteenth and twentieth
centuries. The result was not always peaceful with several missionaries killed by the locals. In fact, the last time that a missionary was killed and eaten in Vanuatu was in 1969. Today, Christianity is nominally doing well in Vanuatu. But, so too are the old beliefs in magic and spirits. In the 
villages there are regular ceremonies to keep the magic and spirit worlds in balance. Each chief maintains a secret place that is the source of his power. Magic rocks remain popular.
The Ni-Vanuatu people have no trouble with all of this duality. They have accepted western beliefs
and methods as a part of their tool kit for life but have seen no need to discard their old beliefs and practices as inferior; a neat trick. It’s an approach that reminds us just a bit of the Japanese approach to coping with the West in the nineteenth century.
PORT VILA and LUGANVILLE
As a whole, Vanuatu is a country of tiny
agricultural villages. However, there are two cities: Port Vila on Efate and Luganville on Espiritu Santo.
Port Vila (pop 36,000) is the larger city and the seat of the central government. The public market is open 24 hours a day and is supplemented by two supermarkets as well as many smaller Chinese-run stores. If you can’t find it in Vila, you won’t find it in Vanuatu.
Vila has the feel of any developing country city that happens to benefit from a regular influx of tourists, in this case from cruise liners that call every week. Nice scenery and nondescript, crumbling architecture combine with first world prices 
and an extraordinary amount of goods made in China. If one were to ignore the predominance of Melanesian faces the scene could be almost anywhere near the Equator. Compared with the mud-floored huts found on many of the outlying islands, life in Vila looks pretty good indeed.
To the credit of the Vanuatu people, they realized some time ago that their patrimony and traditions were
worth preserving, if only because visitors were willing to spend money to see examples. Vila is a good place to start exploring Vanuatu’s traditions. The city is home to the National Culture Museum which is located in a complex on a hill above the city and across from the parliament buildings. The exhibits themselves are interesting but what 
made our visit special was the guided tour provided by one of the museum guides. Edgar spent two hours with us and filled-in a great many of the gaps in our understanding of Vanuatu 
customs.
Luganville, on Espiritu Santo, is another story. A one-time major U.S. base during WWII with about 50,000 American service men in residence and 100,000 more coming here for recreation, it is now
reduced to a small city of, perhaps, 10,000 people. Located on a narrow strip of land bordering Segond Channel, the town is a collection of older concrete buildings and a few rusty Quonset Huts left over from the war. We spent only two days in Luganville during which we explored the town, bought a bit of diesel and actually ate at a real restaurant. We also bought a few provisions 
but found them to be buggy and tossed the stuff over the side. (Who would have thought that 
cockroaches would thrive in heads of garlic?)
About twenty nautical miles north of Luganville are Peterson Bay and Oyster
Island. This area is as beautiful as Luganville is not. There are two rivers emptying into the bay and at the head of each is a freshwater “blue hole”. We dinghied-up each of the rivers and found them to be very different but both were stunning. We shut-down the outboard motor and drifted 
back down the river to the sounds of jungle birds and rushing water.
DAILY VILLAGE LIFE
Villages throughout Vanuatu are set up by clans and tribes with village leaders, chiefs and paramount chiefs comprising the political hierarchy. While most people in Vanuatu speak “Bislama”, a sort 
of pigeon English mixed with French and more, each village has its own 'Kastom' (Custom) language, too. There are over a hundred different languages currently used in the country. This means that one finds people living as 
close as 3 kilometers to another village where a completely different Kastom language is spoken. We made a big hit with locals when we 
were able to learn and say “thank you” in their local dialects.
Bislama is a funny and very descriptive language. For examples, “condom” is known as “rubba blong fakfak”, bra is “basket blong titi” and womb is “basket blong pickininy”. [say these out loud and think in English]. Some villagers were
taught English in school, some were taught French. One can only imagine how complicated things must have been during the Condominium rule.
Outside of the cities, people mostly live along the shore and have narrow gardens between the interior hills/mountains and the sea. This is subsistence living in a land where the weather seems
to produce enough rainfall to 
grow crops. Mostly, people grow coconut for copra and for food, yams, manioc and cassava, bananas, and some tomatoes, cucumbers, greens and papayas.
In a few places we met Ni-Vanuatu who were able to get jobs as migrant workers in New Zealand – spending many months away from family and village in order to earn some hard currency. One such man worked in Blenheim, NZ picking grapes for part of the year, and the rest of the time, hunted on his island for pigeons and bats with his slingshot.
While sailing amidst the various islands we were almost always approached by dugout outrigger canoes after anchoring. Often,
people came to just say “hello”, but sometimes bringing items to trade – coconuts, pineapples, bananas, yams. (How do you use 100 bananas – all ripe at 
about the same time – when there are only two of you aboard?!)
Money has little value in many of the places we visited, as there are no stores in which to spend it and very few trading boats coming by with goods to sell. For the 7
weeks that we explored the outer islands, we got all our fresh food via trading. Of paramount interest to locals was rope – we traded lengths of rope so that they could tether their cattle. Also of interest were tee shirts – used or new – it didn’t matter. Kids’ clothes were a huge hit as were vegetable seeds, nails, school supplies, reading glasses, magazines, nail varnish and empty plastic bottles. These people have very little at all. 
Smiles, however, were 
never in short supply.
Most of the homes we saw are still of traditional construction. The houses are made of either thatched walls and roofs or, in some cases,
corrugated metal. Kitchens are outside in the bush. Ditto “bathrooms”. While most villages we visited had some sort of water supply, many were quite basic. We visited one village where there were 
water pipes along the dirt pathways. We asked about 
the water system and were told that the U.S. Peace Corps had put in a water system a couple of years ago, but when the generator broke, they could no 
longer get the water to pump through to the village. Hence, they went back to the old way of just carting water.
Inside, the houses tend to be sparse – woven mats or crushed coral cover the dirt floors, clothes heaped in piles in the corners. Sometimes, beds are just slightly raised areas within the hut. Most of the villages we visited
did not have any electricity. Occasionally, we found a village with a communal generator, but that was by far the exception.
Children are all over the place, working on their own or by their parents’ sides. From young ages kids seem to carry machetes or knives. For some unknown reason the children seem to choose not to wipe their noses, and
are often seen with streams of greenish yellowish glop 
dripping down. Lice are a common problem in the islands. It was not uncommon to see mommies picking lice out of children’s heads, or sisters picking lice out of old people’s hair.
Malaria and dengue fever are problems here. We each took prophylaxis against the former. There is none for the latter other than to slather one’s self with insect repellent all day long. So far, we are disease free. We have known several cruisers who have had wounds
on their legs or feet go septic. We even did our amateur physician thing with a French single-hander who came by our boat looking for some help for a gaping, oozing swollen leg. We debraded (took a scalpel and tried to clean out the dead, dying and diseased material from the wound), applied an antibiotic ointment and gave him 10 days of Keflex antibiotic to help get rid of the infection. We also suggested that he high-tail it to Port Vila to see a doctor ASAP. We subsequently found out that the 
doctor told him to just continue the routine that we had “prescribed”, and that he was lucky he met us as he may have ended up losing his leg had he not. Another cruiser we knew died a sudden mysterious death – perhaps from a mistakenly mixed “home” anti-malarial 
concoction.
People don’t sit around after dark and watch TV in villages. However, the men often get together in their version of “the pub” to unwind and drink the national drink, Kava. Geoff and his two buddies Bruno and Angus did something like this with Chief Massing for an evening of Kava making and 
consumption on Ambrym. First, one has to pound 
the kava roots with a stick until it is a fibrous mass/mess. Then add water, squeeze out the juice and do the whole thing again, then a third time. After the third go-round the cloudy brown stuff is ready to be strained through an old cloth and is then ready to drink.
Often one sees men with very red eyes here – that is the result of too much kava the night before. Geoff was definitely a bit woozy after his evening of drink. Vanuatu’s fresh Kava, as opposed to the dried variety we tried in Fiji, is actually the more flavorful of the two. Fresh Kava actually has a notable flavor like red peppers/capsicum. While sometimes women are now allowed to drink Kava, after a miniscule taste, Sally opted to be photographer
instead.
Subsistence living is hard work. People go to their farms early each day to harvest food for the day and
to ensure that the crops are growing. Women watch their husband’s pigs while the chickens roam all over the place – although we never saw anyone actually eating chicken. Washing of clothing is often done at the nearest stream and wet clothes are carted back to the village to dry. Food preparation takes lots of labor as the 
national dish – “lap lap” is made from grated yams/manioc/coconut and then buried in banana leaves and cooked on hot rocks (it is a glutinous mess). Some villages engage in fishing, but it is our understanding (and our experience) that many days will go by without any protein in the local diet. 
When they catch it, flying fox (bat) is a local delicacy. “Very healthy”, we are told, because they eat only fruits and nuts.
Women dress modestly – mostly wearing either Island dresses -- voluminous “Mother Hubbard” style attire introduced by the missionaries, or else tee shirts and 
long skirts. (Sally was given a local style dress as a gift from Lucy on “Emae” island). Men wear shorts, tee shirts, and, if engaging in traditional rites, a penis wrapper, or “namba”. While they looked profoundly itchy and 
uncomfortable, we can say that they never came off to reveal their contents – despite many hours of bouncing up and down and dancing. (Sally watched carefully). Some tribes are known as “Big Nambas” and some as “Smol Nambas”. Interestingly enough, historically the latter were not the cannibalistic gourmands that
the former were.
There are very very few paved roads in all of Vanuatu. In fact, there are few roads at all. The places we visited were mostly only accessible by small boat. The inter-island supply ships are essentially tramps and follow no hard and fast
schedule. When the supply ships do come to the villages, the goods generally are offloaded by lighter or, in the case of gasoline and fuel oil, by floating the barrels from the ship to the shore. There are no piers on most of the islands. Travel by locals is done either by walking for miles or by paddling dugout outrigger canoes.
Sometimes, the lack of regular inter-island transportation can have interesting consequences.
We were asked to give a ride on s/v GRACE to a young Kiwi, Ben, who was on his way to teach English in a remote village on Malekula. The only airstrip nearby (a grass runway) was under water so he had no 
other way to get to his job. Ben turned out to be a very nice kid whom we were happy to meet.
We did visit one secondary school on one of the larger islands. The
school was very complete and we understand that it was built by the Australian government. Sally sat in on a couple of classes and was invited to be a guest teacher as well. It was a wonderful experience for her.
In many of the villages we got to know the local chief. These men are all quite personable, from the young one who shared Kava with Geoff, Bruno and 
Angus, to the 88 year old with his family clan of 80. To a man, they made us feel welcome in their homes, shared the bounty of their villages and showed us around. Most chiefs are either barefoot, or wear rubber thongs/sandals or “Crocs”. We are astounded at the global scope of the Crocs phenomenon. In Vanuatu, despite the general absence of stores, few roads, and minimal infrastructure, Crocs and 
their knock-offs are to be seen everywhere.
Each village/Island has its own specific customs and traditional
ceremonies and rites. We were lucky to be able to see some of these in practice on several different islands. We saw dances in Nakamals – sacred areas – taboo for women to actually enter. We heard the beat of the tam tams. We watched the normally very modest women dancing bare breasted in grass skirts with complete abandon in an area that was normally taboo for men. We saw children mesmerized by watching their elders, and learning what to do, following along with the motions and words. 
On Ambrym, we attended a festival where we had a lot of fun indeed. Ambrym is a truly a magical place dominated by an active volcano which provided an atmospheric background for traditional dancing. We saw the Nimangki “grade taking” ceremony, Batta circumcision dance, ROM dance, as well as the 
ceremony of the “dead high chief”. Our daily trek from the anchorage to the beach, and then another 45 minutes to the midst of the jungle-like interior, was part of the fun. We left the “civilization” of huts and homes behind and entered the sacred area. Chief Sekor proudly showed us his village and the nasara or ceremonial ground for Kastom ceremonies. The whole island is covered in fine gray volcanic dust. It finds its way into your lungs, clothes, and skin. At night, one could see the active volcano’s glow against the star-filled sky. The last time this volcano erupted was in 2005.
In order to wear a mask and dance in the fabulous ROM dance, men must pay many pigs and get special dispensation from the previous mask wearer. There are special steps and movements which go with each one of these masks.
These dances are very intense, vibrant, and exciting to both the performers as well as the observers (local and visitor alike). The music, singing, dancing and the beating of the tam-tams and feet made the ground and earth feel as if it too was participating in the
rites. We were mesmerized for three days of festivals, dancing, magic, music, mingling with locals and were thrilled to be able to share the events with very dear cruising friends.
We hope that the magic of Ambrym, the good magic anyway, will stay with us a long time.
PIGS
The pig remains a very important part of village life. The animal, and its tusks especially, represent a store of wealth that is accepted as legal currency for many transactions, especially those that do not involve the purchase of manufactured goods. So, for example, in some villages Ni-Vanuatu men must still buy their wives for pigs. The price is discussed between the bridegroom and the father of the bride in terms of the pig price for about ten strategic body parts. One can only imagine the back-and-forth in that negotiation. On one small island, Geoff 
was asked where he “bought” his wife….
Promotion ceremonies for men and women require payments to higher ranking chiefs to be made in pigs. There are at least eleven grades that a man may achieve in some villages and two for women. It is important to understand that an individual village can have many chiefs but only one top chief. Arranged by rank, the chiefs’ hierarchy forms a pyramid with many more chiefs of lower rank than higher. Each of the lower ranking chiefs must
pay the pig price for his privileges to one or more of the higher ranking chiefs. We think of the arrangement as a sort of Neolithic “Ponzi Scheme”.
On Vanuatu’s National Independence Day, we visited the annual celebration in one of Efate’s villages. Among the games and festivities was a “pig race”. In the race, a greased piglet was set free about ½ a kilometer off shore. Then first the men, followed by the women (they had their own pig), swam-out to see who could catch the piglet first. The winner was allowed to keep the pig, a valuable prize.
The value of an individual pig is determined both by the size of the pig and the presence, size and shape of its tusks. A large pig with tusks forming a double circle would be twice as valuable as a pig whose tusks formed only a single circle.
Pigs without tusks are still very valuable, but much less so than their equivalents with any sort of tusk at all. The tusks, once removed from the pig, are used both for decoration and as money.
Pigs are smart. They can tell when the end is coming and they do not go quietly. We saw several pigs killed as part of traditional ceremonies on Ambrym. They all protested loudly as they were led into the killing ground. Unfortunately, for us as well as the pig, the animals killed in Vanuatu Kastom ceremonies are clubbed to-death. As they have thick skulls [pig headed!], the pigs can protest for quite a while before the end finally arrives.
SAILING IN VANUATU
The islands making-up the Vanuatu chain run from the north north-west to the south south east. The prevailing winds in the region blow from the south east to the North West (south east trade winds). This means is that it is pretty easy to sail from the southern parts of Vanuatu to the north (downwind), but pretty difficult to sail from the north to the South (upwind).
A complicating factor in Vanuatu is that the islands are arranged in
a “Y” shape with the top facing north. The south east trades blow across the “Y” from the lower right to the upper left. The area between the two arms of the “Y” has particularly steep and confused seas due to the influence of the islands and the passes between them. As of this writing, we have visited 12 of Vanuatu's islands.
Just about all cruisers want to avoid sailing upwind as it means
punching into waves, heeling continuously (tipping to one side) and pitching (rocking bow to stern). If the wind is blowing at all hard, then sailing upwind will also tend to be wet as waves will 
splash onto the deck with the occasional big one breaking against the side and sending a hundred gallons or so flying over the boat. None of this is dangerous but it can be quite uncomfortable. It also tends to be slow as the boat loses speed each time it moves through or over a wave. The sea conditions in Vanuatu almost guarantee that going upwind (south) will be both uncomfortable and slow.
So, the usual strategy for going south is to wait for a breeze from with either more east or west in it than is usual. This turns the typically upwind southerly direction into an easier offwind passage. Such breezes do occur, perhaps once every few weeks. If you want to go south, it’s important to watch the weather carefully and to be prepared to move when the south east trades are not in force.
CRUISING LIFE:
In addition to meeting many islanders, we have gotten to know
many other cruisers, too. Each sailor is on his/her own journey. Some travel to sail, some sail to travel (GRACE has one of each aboard!). Some prefer the company of their fellows while others are focused on the locals and, for a time, effectively become part of their island host communities. 
A very few cruisers expect the developing world to operate on industrialized western standards, most come to places like Vanuatu to experience the differences. Some cruisers bring practical trade goods, some bring candy, yet others bring Bibles.
Language does not seem to be an impediment to communication here in Vanuatu. The Ni-Vanuatu may not speak fluent English or French, but they are certainly quite smart and are
definitely able to sense the character of strangers.
We have been able to live very frugally here: anchoring out costs nothing at all, and trading has kept our boat free of unused “stuff” and full of local fruit and vegetables – this is hard to beat.
While in Vanuatu, we have been fortunate to meet, as well as to re-connect with, yachting friends we have made over the past 2 ½ years. Meeting again with Catherine & Bruno and Ruth
& Angus in magical Ambrym was like having a family Christmas. Seeing Dan & Brenda on their new boat was wonderful, and we thoroughly enjoyed meeting their son and his friends. Seeing parts of Vanuatu through the experienced eyes of Sue & John was both instructive and fun. Hearing updates from other close friends who are far away is like a tonic too. Our friends continue to be vital to our health and sanity as we all carry on so far from our original shores.
One can never be sure what will happen out here (nor from where you are reading this, for that matter) – death, illness, striking reefs or whales, injuries to people or marriages - each can happen as a matter of chance. What is certain is that our time afloat has given us a real appreciation of just how fragile our lives actually are and how important are our individual
friendships and our community.
With vigilance, we hope to avoid the worst that cruising might bring. With open minds, and a bit of good luck, too, we plan both to enjoy and appreciate our experiences. We hope the same is true in the lives of each one of our readers.
photo of Canoe with kids trading with Sally and Geoff courtesy of Jan from s/v Baraka
photo of Sally "up-close-and-personal" with Chief Sekor courtesy of Maurice from s/v Volantis
Vanuatu, the archipelago formerly known as "The New Hebrides", sits in the midst of the volcanic area known as the ‘ring of fire’. Until 1980, the country was governed by the Anglo-French Condominium government. At times Vanuatu feels like the end of the earth.
Vanuatu (total population approx. 210,000) is simultaneously simple and complex. It is simple in that it remains a traditional patriarchal society based largely upon subsistence
agriculture. Vanuatu is complex in that it still actually has dual government, legal, economic and religious systems. This is a situation that can only lead to interesting complexities in day-to-day life.The elected parliamentary government has
been in existence since independence was granted. The parallel 'Kastom' (traditional) government of local chiefs not only remains in-place, but plays an important role in daily life in all parts of the country. Chiefs may still enact local laws and people still defer to the wishes of their chiefs. We understand that , on a case-by-case basis, at least some local chiefs may still decide that a law passed by the parliament does not apply to their people. 
Theoretically, this allows the people of such a chief to commit with impunity what would otherwise be considered crimes. If a person committing a crime not sanctioned by a chief wishes to have a more lenient hearing, we understand that a rapid appeal to the National Council of Chiefs (before the Police get involved) is advised.
There are two forms of currency in Vanuatu: 'Kastom', primarily in the form of pig tusks, and the western-style currency issued by the Reserve Bank of Vanuatu. The economies supported by the two 
currencies overlap in some places although not in others. For example, currency is little valued in most of the islands as there is nothing much to buy with it.
Finally, there is religion. Christian missionaries were very active in Vanuatu in the nineteenth and twentieth
centuries. The result was not always peaceful with several missionaries killed by the locals. In fact, the last time that a missionary was killed and eaten in Vanuatu was in 1969. Today, Christianity is nominally doing well in Vanuatu. But, so too are the old beliefs in magic and spirits. In the 
villages there are regular ceremonies to keep the magic and spirit worlds in balance. Each chief maintains a secret place that is the source of his power. Magic rocks remain popular.The Ni-Vanuatu people have no trouble with all of this duality. They have accepted western beliefs
and methods as a part of their tool kit for life but have seen no need to discard their old beliefs and practices as inferior; a neat trick. It’s an approach that reminds us just a bit of the Japanese approach to coping with the West in the nineteenth century.PORT VILA and LUGANVILLE
As a whole, Vanuatu is a country of tiny
agricultural villages. However, there are two cities: Port Vila on Efate and Luganville on Espiritu Santo.Port Vila (pop 36,000) is the larger city and the seat of the central government. The public market is open 24 hours a day and is supplemented by two supermarkets as well as many smaller Chinese-run stores. If you can’t find it in Vila, you won’t find it in Vanuatu.
Vila has the feel of any developing country city that happens to benefit from a regular influx of tourists, in this case from cruise liners that call every week. Nice scenery and nondescript, crumbling architecture combine with first world prices 
and an extraordinary amount of goods made in China. If one were to ignore the predominance of Melanesian faces the scene could be almost anywhere near the Equator. Compared with the mud-floored huts found on many of the outlying islands, life in Vila looks pretty good indeed.To the credit of the Vanuatu people, they realized some time ago that their patrimony and traditions were
worth preserving, if only because visitors were willing to spend money to see examples. Vila is a good place to start exploring Vanuatu’s traditions. The city is home to the National Culture Museum which is located in a complex on a hill above the city and across from the parliament buildings. The exhibits themselves are interesting but what 
made our visit special was the guided tour provided by one of the museum guides. Edgar spent two hours with us and filled-in a great many of the gaps in our understanding of Vanuatu 
customs.Luganville, on Espiritu Santo, is another story. A one-time major U.S. base during WWII with about 50,000 American service men in residence and 100,000 more coming here for recreation, it is now
reduced to a small city of, perhaps, 10,000 people. Located on a narrow strip of land bordering Segond Channel, the town is a collection of older concrete buildings and a few rusty Quonset Huts left over from the war. We spent only two days in Luganville during which we explored the town, bought a bit of diesel and actually ate at a real restaurant. We also bought a few provisions 
but found them to be buggy and tossed the stuff over the side. (Who would have thought that 
cockroaches would thrive in heads of garlic?)About twenty nautical miles north of Luganville are Peterson Bay and Oyster
Island. This area is as beautiful as Luganville is not. There are two rivers emptying into the bay and at the head of each is a freshwater “blue hole”. We dinghied-up each of the rivers and found them to be very different but both were stunning. We shut-down the outboard motor and drifted 
back down the river to the sounds of jungle birds and rushing water.DAILY VILLAGE LIFE
Villages throughout Vanuatu are set up by clans and tribes with village leaders, chiefs and paramount chiefs comprising the political hierarchy. While most people in Vanuatu speak “Bislama”, a sort 
of pigeon English mixed with French and more, each village has its own 'Kastom' (Custom) language, too. There are over a hundred different languages currently used in the country. This means that one finds people living as 
close as 3 kilometers to another village where a completely different Kastom language is spoken. We made a big hit with locals when we 
were able to learn and say “thank you” in their local dialects.Bislama is a funny and very descriptive language. For examples, “condom” is known as “rubba blong fakfak”, bra is “basket blong titi” and womb is “basket blong pickininy”. [say these out loud and think in English]. Some villagers were
taught English in school, some were taught French. One can only imagine how complicated things must have been during the Condominium rule.Outside of the cities, people mostly live along the shore and have narrow gardens between the interior hills/mountains and the sea. This is subsistence living in a land where the weather seems
to produce enough rainfall to 
grow crops. Mostly, people grow coconut for copra and for food, yams, manioc and cassava, bananas, and some tomatoes, cucumbers, greens and papayas.
In a few places we met Ni-Vanuatu who were able to get jobs as migrant workers in New Zealand – spending many months away from family and village in order to earn some hard currency. One such man worked in Blenheim, NZ picking grapes for part of the year, and the rest of the time, hunted on his island for pigeons and bats with his slingshot.
While sailing amidst the various islands we were almost always approached by dugout outrigger canoes after anchoring. Often,
people came to just say “hello”, but sometimes bringing items to trade – coconuts, pineapples, bananas, yams. (How do you use 100 bananas – all ripe at 
about the same time – when there are only two of you aboard?!)Money has little value in many of the places we visited, as there are no stores in which to spend it and very few trading boats coming by with goods to sell. For the 7
weeks that we explored the outer islands, we got all our fresh food via trading. Of paramount interest to locals was rope – we traded lengths of rope so that they could tether their cattle. Also of interest were tee shirts – used or new – it didn’t matter. Kids’ clothes were a huge hit as were vegetable seeds, nails, school supplies, reading glasses, magazines, nail varnish and empty plastic bottles. These people have very little at all. 
Smiles, however, were 
never in short supply.Most of the homes we saw are still of traditional construction. The houses are made of either thatched walls and roofs or, in some cases,
corrugated metal. Kitchens are outside in the bush. Ditto “bathrooms”. While most villages we visited had some sort of water supply, many were quite basic. We visited one village where there were 
water pipes along the dirt pathways. We asked about 
the water system and were told that the U.S. Peace Corps had put in a water system a couple of years ago, but when the generator broke, they could no 
longer get the water to pump through to the village. Hence, they went back to the old way of just carting water.Inside, the houses tend to be sparse – woven mats or crushed coral cover the dirt floors, clothes heaped in piles in the corners. Sometimes, beds are just slightly raised areas within the hut. Most of the villages we visited
did not have any electricity. Occasionally, we found a village with a communal generator, but that was by far the exception.Children are all over the place, working on their own or by their parents’ sides. From young ages kids seem to carry machetes or knives. For some unknown reason the children seem to choose not to wipe their noses, and
are often seen with streams of greenish yellowish glop 
dripping down. Lice are a common problem in the islands. It was not uncommon to see mommies picking lice out of children’s heads, or sisters picking lice out of old people’s hair.
Malaria and dengue fever are problems here. We each took prophylaxis against the former. There is none for the latter other than to slather one’s self with insect repellent all day long. So far, we are disease free. We have known several cruisers who have had wounds
on their legs or feet go septic. We even did our amateur physician thing with a French single-hander who came by our boat looking for some help for a gaping, oozing swollen leg. We debraded (took a scalpel and tried to clean out the dead, dying and diseased material from the wound), applied an antibiotic ointment and gave him 10 days of Keflex antibiotic to help get rid of the infection. We also suggested that he high-tail it to Port Vila to see a doctor ASAP. We subsequently found out that the 
doctor told him to just continue the routine that we had “prescribed”, and that he was lucky he met us as he may have ended up losing his leg had he not. Another cruiser we knew died a sudden mysterious death – perhaps from a mistakenly mixed “home” anti-malarial 
concoction.
People don’t sit around after dark and watch TV in villages. However, the men often get together in their version of “the pub” to unwind and drink the national drink, Kava. Geoff and his two buddies Bruno and Angus did something like this with Chief Massing for an evening of Kava making and 
consumption on Ambrym. First, one has to pound 
the kava roots with a stick until it is a fibrous mass/mess. Then add water, squeeze out the juice and do the whole thing again, then a third time. After the third go-round the cloudy brown stuff is ready to be strained through an old cloth and is then ready to drink.
Often one sees men with very red eyes here – that is the result of too much kava the night before. Geoff was definitely a bit woozy after his evening of drink. Vanuatu’s fresh Kava, as opposed to the dried variety we tried in Fiji, is actually the more flavorful of the two. Fresh Kava actually has a notable flavor like red peppers/capsicum. While sometimes women are now allowed to drink Kava, after a miniscule taste, Sally opted to be photographer
instead.Subsistence living is hard work. People go to their farms early each day to harvest food for the day and
to ensure that the crops are growing. Women watch their husband’s pigs while the chickens roam all over the place – although we never saw anyone actually eating chicken. Washing of clothing is often done at the nearest stream and wet clothes are carted back to the village to dry. Food preparation takes lots of labor as the 
national dish – “lap lap” is made from grated yams/manioc/coconut and then buried in banana leaves and cooked on hot rocks (it is a glutinous mess). Some villages engage in fishing, but it is our understanding (and our experience) that many days will go by without any protein in the local diet. 
When they catch it, flying fox (bat) is a local delicacy. “Very healthy”, we are told, because they eat only fruits and nuts.
Women dress modestly – mostly wearing either Island dresses -- voluminous “Mother Hubbard” style attire introduced by the missionaries, or else tee shirts and 
long skirts. (Sally was given a local style dress as a gift from Lucy on “Emae” island). Men wear shorts, tee shirts, and, if engaging in traditional rites, a penis wrapper, or “namba”. While they looked profoundly itchy and 
uncomfortable, we can say that they never came off to reveal their contents – despite many hours of bouncing up and down and dancing. (Sally watched carefully). Some tribes are known as “Big Nambas” and some as “Smol Nambas”. Interestingly enough, historically the latter were not the cannibalistic gourmands that
the former were.There are very very few paved roads in all of Vanuatu. In fact, there are few roads at all. The places we visited were mostly only accessible by small boat. The inter-island supply ships are essentially tramps and follow no hard and fast
schedule. When the supply ships do come to the villages, the goods generally are offloaded by lighter or, in the case of gasoline and fuel oil, by floating the barrels from the ship to the shore. There are no piers on most of the islands. Travel by locals is done either by walking for miles or by paddling dugout outrigger canoes.Sometimes, the lack of regular inter-island transportation can have interesting consequences.
We were asked to give a ride on s/v GRACE to a young Kiwi, Ben, who was on his way to teach English in a remote village on Malekula. The only airstrip nearby (a grass runway) was under water so he had no 
other way to get to his job. Ben turned out to be a very nice kid whom we were happy to meet.We did visit one secondary school on one of the larger islands. The
school was very complete and we understand that it was built by the Australian government. Sally sat in on a couple of classes and was invited to be a guest teacher as well. It was a wonderful experience for her.
In many of the villages we got to know the local chief. These men are all quite personable, from the young one who shared Kava with Geoff, Bruno and 
Angus, to the 88 year old with his family clan of 80. To a man, they made us feel welcome in their homes, shared the bounty of their villages and showed us around. Most chiefs are either barefoot, or wear rubber thongs/sandals or “Crocs”. We are astounded at the global scope of the Crocs phenomenon. In Vanuatu, despite the general absence of stores, few roads, and minimal infrastructure, Crocs and 
their knock-offs are to be seen everywhere.Each village/Island has its own specific customs and traditional
ceremonies and rites. We were lucky to be able to see some of these in practice on several different islands. We saw dances in Nakamals – sacred areas – taboo for women to actually enter. We heard the beat of the tam tams. We watched the normally very modest women dancing bare breasted in grass skirts with complete abandon in an area that was normally taboo for men. We saw children mesmerized by watching their elders, and learning what to do, following along with the motions and words. 
On Ambrym, we attended a festival where we had a lot of fun indeed. Ambrym is a truly a magical place dominated by an active volcano which provided an atmospheric background for traditional dancing. We saw the Nimangki “grade taking” ceremony, Batta circumcision dance, ROM dance, as well as the 
ceremony of the “dead high chief”. Our daily trek from the anchorage to the beach, and then another 45 minutes to the midst of the jungle-like interior, was part of the fun. We left the “civilization” of huts and homes behind and entered the sacred area. Chief Sekor proudly showed us his village and the nasara or ceremonial ground for Kastom ceremonies. The whole island is covered in fine gray volcanic dust. It finds its way into your lungs, clothes, and skin. At night, one could see the active volcano’s glow against the star-filled sky. The last time this volcano erupted was in 2005.
In order to wear a mask and dance in the fabulous ROM dance, men must pay many pigs and get special dispensation from the previous mask wearer. There are special steps and movements which go with each one of these masks. These dances are very intense, vibrant, and exciting to both the performers as well as the observers (local and visitor alike). The music, singing, dancing and the beating of the tam-tams and feet made the ground and earth feel as if it too was participating in the
rites. We were mesmerized for three days of festivals, dancing, magic, music, mingling with locals and were thrilled to be able to share the events with very dear cruising friends.We hope that the magic of Ambrym, the good magic anyway, will stay with us a long time.
PIGS
The pig remains a very important part of village life. The animal, and its tusks especially, represent a store of wealth that is accepted as legal currency for many transactions, especially those that do not involve the purchase of manufactured goods. So, for example, in some villages Ni-Vanuatu men must still buy their wives for pigs. The price is discussed between the bridegroom and the father of the bride in terms of the pig price for about ten strategic body parts. One can only imagine the back-and-forth in that negotiation. On one small island, Geoff 
was asked where he “bought” his wife….Promotion ceremonies for men and women require payments to higher ranking chiefs to be made in pigs. There are at least eleven grades that a man may achieve in some villages and two for women. It is important to understand that an individual village can have many chiefs but only one top chief. Arranged by rank, the chiefs’ hierarchy forms a pyramid with many more chiefs of lower rank than higher. Each of the lower ranking chiefs must
pay the pig price for his privileges to one or more of the higher ranking chiefs. We think of the arrangement as a sort of Neolithic “Ponzi Scheme”.
On Vanuatu’s National Independence Day, we visited the annual celebration in one of Efate’s villages. Among the games and festivities was a “pig race”. In the race, a greased piglet was set free about ½ a kilometer off shore. Then first the men, followed by the women (they had their own pig), swam-out to see who could catch the piglet first. The winner was allowed to keep the pig, a valuable prize.The value of an individual pig is determined both by the size of the pig and the presence, size and shape of its tusks. A large pig with tusks forming a double circle would be twice as valuable as a pig whose tusks formed only a single circle.
Pigs without tusks are still very valuable, but much less so than their equivalents with any sort of tusk at all. The tusks, once removed from the pig, are used both for decoration and as money.
Pigs are smart. They can tell when the end is coming and they do not go quietly. We saw several pigs killed as part of traditional ceremonies on Ambrym. They all protested loudly as they were led into the killing ground. Unfortunately, for us as well as the pig, the animals killed in Vanuatu Kastom ceremonies are clubbed to-death. As they have thick skulls [pig headed!], the pigs can protest for quite a while before the end finally arrives.
SAILING IN VANUATU
The islands making-up the Vanuatu chain run from the north north-west to the south south east. The prevailing winds in the region blow from the south east to the North West (south east trade winds). This means is that it is pretty easy to sail from the southern parts of Vanuatu to the north (downwind), but pretty difficult to sail from the north to the South (upwind).
A complicating factor in Vanuatu is that the islands are arranged in
a “Y” shape with the top facing north. The south east trades blow across the “Y” from the lower right to the upper left. The area between the two arms of the “Y” has particularly steep and confused seas due to the influence of the islands and the passes between them. As of this writing, we have visited 12 of Vanuatu's islands.Just about all cruisers want to avoid sailing upwind as it means
punching into waves, heeling continuously (tipping to one side) and pitching (rocking bow to stern). If the wind is blowing at all hard, then sailing upwind will also tend to be wet as waves will 
splash onto the deck with the occasional big one breaking against the side and sending a hundred gallons or so flying over the boat. None of this is dangerous but it can be quite uncomfortable. It also tends to be slow as the boat loses speed each time it moves through or over a wave. The sea conditions in Vanuatu almost guarantee that going upwind (south) will be both uncomfortable and slow.
So, the usual strategy for going south is to wait for a breeze from with either more east or west in it than is usual. This turns the typically upwind southerly direction into an easier offwind passage. Such breezes do occur, perhaps once every few weeks. If you want to go south, it’s important to watch the weather carefully and to be prepared to move when the south east trades are not in force.CRUISING LIFE:
In addition to meeting many islanders, we have gotten to know
many other cruisers, too. Each sailor is on his/her own journey. Some travel to sail, some sail to travel (GRACE has one of each aboard!). Some prefer the company of their fellows while others are focused on the locals and, for a time, effectively become part of their island host communities. 
A very few cruisers expect the developing world to operate on industrialized western standards, most come to places like Vanuatu to experience the differences. Some cruisers bring practical trade goods, some bring candy, yet others bring Bibles.Language does not seem to be an impediment to communication here in Vanuatu. The Ni-Vanuatu may not speak fluent English or French, but they are certainly quite smart and are
definitely able to sense the character of strangers.We have been able to live very frugally here: anchoring out costs nothing at all, and trading has kept our boat free of unused “stuff” and full of local fruit and vegetables – this is hard to beat.
While in Vanuatu, we have been fortunate to meet, as well as to re-connect with, yachting friends we have made over the past 2 ½ years. Meeting again with Catherine & Bruno and Ruth
& Angus in magical Ambrym was like having a family Christmas. Seeing Dan & Brenda on their new boat was wonderful, and we thoroughly enjoyed meeting their son and his friends. Seeing parts of Vanuatu through the experienced eyes of Sue & John was both instructive and fun. Hearing updates from other close friends who are far away is like a tonic too. Our friends continue to be vital to our health and sanity as we all carry on so far from our original shores.
One can never be sure what will happen out here (nor from where you are reading this, for that matter) – death, illness, striking reefs or whales, injuries to people or marriages - each can happen as a matter of chance. What is certain is that our time afloat has given us a real appreciation of just how fragile our lives actually are and how important are our individual
friendships and our community.
With vigilance, we hope to avoid the worst that cruising might bring. With open minds, and a bit of good luck, too, we plan both to enjoy and appreciate our experiences. We hope the same is true in the lives of each one of our readers.photo of Canoe with kids trading with Sally and Geoff courtesy of Jan from s/v Baraka
photo of Sally "up-close-and-personal" with Chief Sekor courtesy of Maurice from s/v Volantis
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