Asanvari on Maewo Island

It is now almost the end of September. We got in to the extinct volcano crater harbor at Lolowai on Ambae Island yesterday afternoon (Friday). I have not written anything for several days since I am trying to get over a bout of dysentery that I picked up last Sunday night (it is now Saturday morning). Not sure where it came from but it got to be enough of a nuisance (all lower end stuff) that I started on Cipro, a strong antibiotic, and Imodium. I won't bore you with the details but it kind of put a damper on my activities and energy so I stayed on the boat mostly for four days straight while Cindy went out and had some adventures. I will relay those the best I can.

Our trip over from the beautiful anchorage at Asanvari was short but not gentle. It was blowing 25kt but thankfully on our stern and we only had to go 11 miles. Yesterday morning we were on shore at the little village shooting the breeze with Chief Nelson, his son Nixon, and a few others (including very cute kids). Nixon and Nelson were doing sand drawings for us in the dirt and telling us the old stories about the man who founded all the tribes there. It was very special and the sort of thing that you only get after you have been one place for several days and get comfortable with the locals and are not so much of a "tourist". So many of our cruising friends have this "check the box" attitude, saying they don't have time to dawdle, so they go here, go there, as fast as they can and just do the highlights - see the volcano - check, see the dance - check, have the local dinner - check, snorkel the beautiful reef - check, and then they are off. They don't really get to know the locals or some of the hidden treasures that are often much more interesting and memorable than the items in the Lonely Planet or cruising guides. Or at least, that is the way we feel and to each his or her own.

While we were relaxing with the Asanvari locals we heard a big powerful ship motoring nearby and thought it was a freighter, which was odd since freighters no longer call on Maewo (a major problem for them). It turned out to be the Vanuatu Navy cutter that we had seen coming in and out of Port Vila. They were in to check cruiser papers and sent a dinghy to shore to tell us to return to our boats and be boarded. We said our last goodbye's to all and went out and then the big Navy dink came over to White Swan, then to us. Six of them came on board, two with guns, in their big boots and politely ask to see all our papers from checking in - passports, ship registration, customs clearance, quarantine receipt, etc. and asked a bunch of questions about where we had been and where we were going. Not intimidating but very official. They shook our hands coming and going and were very courteous. They left then. They had caught other boats without the proper papers elsewhere and will issue a fine (immediate payment required or you get escorted back to Vila and impounded) or for worst stuff, they will arrest you and impound the boat, which they have done. We don't blame them for being careful about their waters. The USCG is much less courteous these days and worse with the paperwork.

Asanvari was another gem of a place to see. The anchorage was gorgeous, with a big waterfall cascading in to the bay right in front of our boats. The island of Maewo is noted for its waterfalls and cascades in fact and you could see others in the distance coming down the very steep and rugged terrain. Of course, everything is covered in the densest jungle you can imagine. The green is practically dripping from itself with big vines covering even the tallest trees and coconut palms interspersed throughout. We all just stare at it all the time. Just amazingly lush and varied. We got in last Saturday just in time to go in later for a big birthday party at the Asanvari Yacht Club for several of the cruisers that were already there. They said there was plenty of food so we were welcome. All eleven boats went in, with one grumpy exception, and we played games before running through the buffet cooked up by Nixon, who is a trained chef. There was coconut crab (a big land crab), fresh water prawns, chicken and curried pawpaw (papaya), rice, all topped off with several birthday cakes made by the other cruisers. They had the local string band come in to play so they were over on one side making music for us while we ate and afterward. It was a blast and only cost 800vt (about $8US) for each of us.

The next day was a rest and relax day (like lots of them) but later they said there was going to be a local custom dance if enough people wanted it so we went in. It went back and forth and they were going to cancel then decided to go ahead on short notice. It was completely different than the other dances we had seen before. First of all, the men (only men and boys), were dressed in grass-woven loincloths with the oddest assortment of hats made of pandamus or grass. It was as if a bunch of kids were told to go make fanciful hats for themselves out of leaves and grass and this is what they came up with. Every hat on the 15 guys there were different. They also had rattles tied around their ankles made of big dried nuts tied on strings and mostly barefoot. A couple of the hardest stomping fellas had old flipflops that looked like they had been found on the roadway of a major expressway they were so blown out and tired looking. They also had an assortment of poles and carved items they used for various dances. It all involved chanting, drumming, hooping and hollering, and tremendous amounts of stomping on the floor (inside the yacht club). Chief Nelson, who is missing most of his front teeth which never stops his big smiles, called out the dances with rhythmic chanting with the men moving around in different ways depending on the particular dance. They all told a story of some sort, with one being the "war" dance. The next to the last dance they went around and grabbed each one of us and made us stomp around in the circle for a long time. It was a hoot!

Cindy, Bob and Dianna did a self-guided tour of the little village the next day, my first full day of being sick as it started the night before. The village is set on a narrow peninsula of land which forms one side of the bay. This is the southernmost part of the island so the outside is ocean across from Pentecost Island where we were before. The peninsula was obviously formed by a couple of small volcano domes ages ago so it is a very pretty landform. There is a small white sand beach in front of the village and coral reefs in front of that. Getting to shore in the dinks involved using our paddles after lifting the motor up or putting down the dinghy wheels to keep the motor off the rocks and reefs. You have to do some serious wading to get in and out anyway. The village is very clean and tidy, but still very poor. As mentioned above, they no longer get any freighters in here so they run out of everything - gasoline, matches, flour, rice, clothes, shoes, medicine, everything. They bummed some gas from one of the boats so they could take the kids to school for the week up the island. There aren't any cars or roads on Maewo - none. All travel is done on foot on jungle tracks and trails or on the beach or by boat. Dugout canoes can go the short distances but it is too rough to go long distances without protection of a bay. They are starting to have to make their cooking fires the old way, by rubbing sticks together, as they have no more matches. They try to keep one fire burning at one house and go there to get a light when they need it but it does not always work. We gave them all our spare lighters before we left.

One of the highlights of the visit, and one that we specifically went there for, I missed. We were offered a special tour up to the taboo bat caves high in the mountains. Cindy went with Bob from White Swan and big, tall Elizabeth, a beautiful Norwegian woman crewing on Ventana. David was the local guide. He had two mismatched shoes, one a watersport slipper, and the other an old tennis shoe which was held together by shoe laces wrapped around and around the sole. It fell apart on the tour and he just wore the one the rest of the way. The trip wore everyone except David out. It started right at 9am and lasted until 4pm. It went up and up and up in the steamy jungle, then down, then through rivers, then up rivers walking in the cascades. From the descriptions and pictures they showed me it was a once in a lifetime experience. The cascades were even prettier than the ones we saw outside of Port Vila. Inside the caves, there were indeed many bats hanging from the tall ceilings. They were not amused by having visitors and flapped around and around and especially did not like having their pictures taken with the flash. The caves are limestone and very near the tops of the rugged backbone ridge of the island. The hikers were near exhaustion when they got back and covered in mud, bruises and scratches. Cindy was also covered in multi-colored dye that bled off of here tie-dyed shirt that she got in Mexico. Her panties ended up tie-dyed too - kind of kinky.

We hated to leave Maewo but have to keep moving on now as cyclone season looms. We will stay in Lolowai a couple of days. It has roads and cars and trucks and a hospital and a few stores. It is only 11 miles from Asanvari but that may as well be a thousand miles for the poor villagers over there as far as buying anything from the stores here. It is ironic that they have the cash from the cruisers but can't buy anything. They asked us to tell any other cruisers that may come later to bring things to them that they are desperate for - matches, gasoline, yeast, flour, shoes, etc.

I am feeling better now and looking forward to going in this morning and exploring. Terry from Anacortes is helping me troubleshoot my autopilot which still insists on quitting while we are underway. My Monitor wind vane pilot needs a complete rebuild when we get to NZ so it is on the growing list of things to do there - it never ends.

----------
radio email processed by SailMail
for information see:

http://www.sailmail.com