Vanuatu and Solomon
Islands
Lusalava Bay, Banks
Islands, Vanuatu,
October
26, 2005 (edited 02-01-2021)
For the photo album of this section of the voyage go to: PACIFIC
In
my last report, I left off in Savusavu, Fiji on
October 3rd. At that time I was still convinced of the
better side of Fiji customs.
They had charged me US$ 50 for overtime penalty and I was then in the
expectation that this would be refunded. But when I finally got my answer to
the letter, that I had been directed to write to Suva customs,
they lopped on another US$60 penalty. I was very disappointed, to say the
least. Particularly because I felt that they were singling me out, with
the other boats having anchored off Point Coustea with me and not having been hassled at
all. On my way to the ATM machine I mentioned my
predicament to other cruisers and then heard of some more shenanigans pulled by
the Savusavu customs.
Since I left, customs have become stricter
yet. The Latoka port
now has a patrol boat that checks out the anchorages to see if there are any
boats in them that have checked out of the country and then they have fined
them. I decided to just get out of Dodge and not pay the fine. The
usual procedure is to clear out and obtain a clearance document that you need
show at the next inbound port. I happened to have one that had never been used
from Papeete.
So I stole out of Savusavu in the dark at 4
a.m. on October 4th. It was still about a 100-mile sail in Fiji waters
and I kept a look out, over the shoulder, for the gun boats. I took the
most direct way through the lagoon that runs on the South side of Vanua Levu and then
through the Bligh Water and out through the Round the Island Passage.
Curly, the resident cruising Guru, had
discouraged this route in favor of a longer route rounding the south side of Viti Levu.
I repeated the error that I had made on entering Savusavu Bay on
the entrance to the lagoon. Instead of trusting the GPS coordinates I favored
my vision for what made sense for the pass entrance. Fortunately, I realized the
error when the depth sounder and the coral heads sounded the alarm. I made a
quick turnaround, dropped the sails and motored through the pass. On leaving
the lagoon for the open waters there were again no markers and this time there
were not even the usual breakers to distinguish the reef. But this time I stuck
by the GPS. The depth sounder kept gyrating wildly from 25 feet down to 5 for
quite a nerve wrecking distance until I was in the Bligh Water. The next morning I was out of Fiji waters
all together. The sail from there to Luganville, Vanuatu was
fast with mostly 110/130 mile days.
Now
there was the hazard that immigration and customs would have been notified of
my Fiji departure
without obtaining proper clearance and dodging their fines; and the questions
as to where I had been between my July Papeete clearance
and now. My passport had a number of exit stamps since that Papeete departure. But no one
questioned
it.
The
scenery now has changed significantly. Though still in Melanesia there
is a distinct change in the features of the Vanuatuans. They are very dark and resemble African
Negroes. The Fijians and Wallisians, also Melanesians, are much lighter skinned
and come closer to the Polynesians. The women wear the Mother Hubbard dresses,
with string tied puffy short sleeves. There are some villages on the island of Santo where
the men still wear a loin cloth. I saw one older bearded man dressed that way
in Luganville;
barefoot and just a string around the waste with a 10 x 12" colorful cloth
on the front and on the back. There are some isolated villages on the island of
Pentecost where the women still go bare breasted and the men wear penis
sheaths. Pentecost is also the island where the land diving is done, from tall
bamboo and vine structures, with vines tied to the young men's ankles. Until 1979
the country was governed by a condominium of French and British colonists.
There are villages that are predominantly French speaking and others where
English is spoken. Bislama is the official
language for all of Vanuatu.
It is mostly Pidgin English with local words added to it. But practically each
village has their own original tongue. The total Bislama dictionary
is covered with 149 words. Now there is a language you can master within a week
or so. There is only present tense in Bislama.
An example of Bislama: "Looky Mew sometime" for a farewell
greeting. Pikinini =
children. They are a very friendly and hospitable nation. It is, so far, one of
my favorite stops. It is more expensive than Fiji,
on the level of French Polynesia with
the exception of local products and services, which are much less.
Luganville is
the second largest town in Vanuatu after
the capital, Port-Vila. Luganville was
a US Army base during the second WW. There are still many leftovers from that
period. Rusting sheet metal covered Quonset huts. Ship wrecks on the beaches. I
stayed a week to provision and use the internet cafes. There are a couple
popular anchorages. In front of the Beach Resort, just west of the river mouth.
And the paid for buoy anchorage, across the channel, at the Aore Island resort.
I made several new cruising friends here. Guenter and Uschi Schertel of
"Schoggelgau" from the German Pfalz region. Uschi provided
me with good cruising details for this area and the Solomons and
let me copy her Solomon charts. Günter gave me some useful navigation software.
My neighbors in the anchorage were a Seattle couple,
Dan and Alice Dews, on "Shaula". Dan
upgraded my weather forecasting software. The brigantine "Soeren Larsen" crossed
my path here for the last time, after many on this voyage, since my first
landfall at Hiva Oa in the Marquesas. It was nice to visit
again with Astrid and Lucinda. Many of the original crew had since completed
their posts and been replaced. On Sunday I went to mass at Ste. Therese. The
service was mostly in Bislama with part of
the readings in French and about half of the songs and liturgical chants in
French. The sermon was given by the French priest.
My
first stop, after Luganville,
was Oyster Island in Peterson Bay.
This is one of the few cyclone safe anchorages. The first night I had
dinner at the Oyster Island resort,
run by Jean Pierre and his wife Anna. The food was exceptional. I had lobster
with a coconut sauce and yellow manioc fries. I shared the table with Dan and
Mark who are doing the milk run on a 52-foot Nordhavn Trawler power boat,
"Bacchus" from Las
Vegas. The next day I rowed up the river to the
"Blue Hole", see photo album for the unusual color. This a very deep spring head water and the blue color
is formed through calcium carbonate deposits. This was one of the most peaceful
and safest anchorages I have dropped the hook thus far. Getting in and out
through the reefs was a challenge. But here I had the very helpful
assistance from the "Tusker" CD. A Port Vila sailor has created this
outstanding CD with a cruising guide for the islands; with satellite and aerial
photos of the anchorages and approaches through the reefs, with detailed GPS
coordinates. And with points of interest for each and a
host of other useful information on regulations, local customs, etc. If
I only had this for the rest of my round the world voyage.... It was supposed
to be a paid for thing. But, yachties are
an unscrupulous lot and copies make the round. I just had a couple extra
"Tuskers", the local beer, and trust that they will raise their
advertising support to this worthwhile cause. Next stop, still on the island of Santo Spiritu,
was Lonock Beach.
It was another beautiful sunny mild windy sail. The color of the water here
reminded me of Huahine;
crystal clear light blue and a white sand beach. I ran into the young Adelaide, Australia couple,
Jennie and Steve, at the Lonock Beach resort.
They were once again the only guests here, just as the two previous nights at
the Oyster Island resort.
They snorkeled and saw the clown fish. The next morning
we trekked up the rim, above the beach, with Alec form the resort as our guide,
to watch the giant flying fox bats. This was a unique experience,
in particular because Alec shared with us his knowledge of the fauna and wild
life that we encountered on the hike through the jungle, up to the ridge. The
village, Hog Harbor,
was a short hike from the beach. In my earlier writings I mentioned a few
places in this world where I felt everything was in nearly complete harmony.
And this is where I felt somewhat of an intruder from another planet who might
disrupt the harmony. Add Hog Harbor to
the list. And a few more are coming up, as well. The thatched huts were all
neat and tidy the sand front yards swept. No loud radios, no cars, no
electricity; a few pigs and chickens, shade and fruit trees. They keep
their gardens away from the village in the jungle clearings. Children are
swimming in the bay and adults taking it easy in the shade. I helped Alec
fix some holes in his dug-out canoe with my epoxy menagerie. And that way got a
late start to the next village, Port Orly, where I intended to go to mass the next
morning. I anchored in the dark. Port Orly was
larger than the village of Hog Harbor, it has close to 3000 souls. This is a French
speaking community. I was the only white man at Mass. The
singing was all acapella. This was a very scenic
location, protected with reefs and surrounding smaller islands. The water is
beautiful crystalclear blue with white sand beaches
and a river emptying into the bay. That evening I left for Gaua island in
the Banks Islands,
in order to arrive during day light. I wound my way through the reefs with the
"Tusker" CD's directions into Lusalava Bay.
I am writing this section from the anchorage. I am the only boat here. And from
now on that will be standard fare. Because few boats are heading north and most
everyone else has started their final passage out of here to either Australia or New
Zealand. I happened to have picked the right
day. It was party time in the village. Having to do with their, St. Andrew, Anglican church.
It sits on a knoll in the green. Young man with Bougainville crowns were
stomping long sticks on plywood sheets laid over
a hole in the ground, to make a serious drum rhythm. Then dancers, kids and
grownups, danced, arm in arm, around them in a circle. They were having a great
time. There was also a small band with guitars and handmade instruments. Men
were cooking rice in large cooking pots. They looked like the size they used to
stew the missionaries in. This time I was not invited. I guess I am just too
skinny. I met the Chief. And also
chief Dan from the next door village. They have seen the occasional
visiting yacht here but I was still an object of keen curiosity. The kids
followed me all around. I had brought a couple of bags of lollipops. They went
fast. I had a few traders come to the boat in their dug outs. These crafts are
so small and rickety looking and they are for ever
bailing them out. If I had enough epoxy, I'd be made the honorary Chief
Jack of Vanuatu.
A conversion zone has settled over me and it started raining and thundering in
earnest, yesterday. The night was calm but it intensified to-day. I have never
seen that much rain in such a short period, not even in the Vietnam monsoon.
A 40 mile plus an hour squall came through and I feared for the 15-pound Danforth anchor, but it held just fine. I collected
about 20 gallons of rain water since yesterday. It has lightened up and I hope
to take off for Sola to-morrow.
Sola, Banks Islands. Oct 28
I
had expected to post the Vanuatu report
here in Sola. But there is no internet connection. There is telephone and
electricity. It was a rough crossing from Gaua to the island of Vanua
Lava on which Sola is
the capital village. I checked in with customs and plan to check out early
Monday to sail to the Solomon
Islands. There is an additional charge of Vatu
3000 (US$30) at this out station custom port. The same applies for Tanna on the extreme
southern end of this stretched out island nation. The Vatu 3000 is not charged
in Port Villa and Luganville.
This brings the total to US$130. Vatu 7000 for port charges, 3000 for
immigration (this became effective last September) 3000 for the Sola customs.
This is a stiff fee if one only plans a short visit to Vanuatu.
"Fleetwood" is truly solo in Sola. But the skipper lacks no company
here. The people walk toward you and introduce themselves and ask lots of
questions. They have never seen a clear finished wood yacht
before. A retired Episcopal priest, father Luke Dini and his wife Rona together with their son in law
Robert and daughter Sarah have a modest resort on the beach at Sola, called Leumerus Guest
House. They also serve as the unofficial yacht club welcoming the cruising
yachts. I became good friends with them in just the few days I was in the bay.
I attended their Episcopal service on Sunday. On Saturday night the Dini's served me a fabulous feast with Coconut Crab.
This island still has a few resident crocodiles nearby. Many of them
disappeared after a severe cyclone. The water is not as clear as elsewhere because
of the phosphor deposits in the river. A young French couple, Julien and Christelle,
sailed in on Saturday. We all went to the Kava cafe Sunday evening where a
small band was playing and we and all the young and old danced individually to
the music, including the new deacon who was ordained that morning.
On the way to Honiara, Guadalcanal Island,
Solomon Islands. November
10, 2005
I
took off from Sola on Monday for the Solomon
Islands and arrived Wednesday, November
2nd evening at West Pass,
the entrance to Graciosa Bay, Santa
Cruz Island (also goes by Ndendo). I caught my second Mahi Mahi on the way there. That
was a long dry spell from the first week into the Pacific in early May till
now. I hate to cost this fish against all the lures I lost. The C-Map
electronic charts and my paper charts showed a light at the entrance to West Pass and
I had copied notes from a German cruiser who specifically wrote that C-Map was
accurate for the island and West pass. But that turned
out not to be so. C-Map showed the pass about a 100
yards further north. And it showed to favor the north side. I ended up on the
beach to the north of the pass. It was pitch black. I managed to back off and
dropped the hook for the night close to this beach. As it turned out, the next morning,
that near stranding saved me from much greater potential dangers. And I
attribute this to your and my prayers for my safety. Besides there not being a
light at all, the charts did not show some very shallow coral reefs in the pass
that you can only see by good light. There was a very strong easterly blowing
and the anchorage outside the pass was a much calmer spot. Graciosa Bay did
not offer much protection in the predominant easterlies. I did find one decent
spot and I will give the coordinates from
now on for the less traveled spots that I am in now in case someone gets the
urge to follow my trail. In Graciosa Bay I
anchored at 10.45.500 S 165.49.000 E. There are
several villages on the south shore. The main one is Luepe Village.
I was immediately surrounded by a dozen dug-out canoes. To the point of
annoyance, they will walk their canoes around the boat staring in the cabin
windows. They mean well and a visitor from outer space in a clear varnished
Mahogany boat brings some excitement. Several of the men I met there told me
that they own small Mahogany and Teak plantations on the island.
Ben Banie, one of the
locals took me in his charge. He showed me some of the traditional dance
costume ornaments, the men wear. Like the nose mask which is made from tortoise
or oyster shell. Very intricate. It is
inserted through the nose bone and the nose lobes. He showed me his piercings.
They also had a small kite which is flown from a fishing canoe and has a string
to the water with spider web as bait. A barracuda type fish takes the bait and
it entangles in it. They also showed me their ancient form of monetary
exchange, feather money. It was a long
hot walk to the town of Lata where I checked in with
the Quarantine officer and the Police. There is no customs and immigration
facility here, that will be done in Honiara the
capital of the Solomons. I was still dying for a
cold beer but could not exchange the few odd Pacific currencies I had on me. I
will make a fast bee line from the ATM machine in Honiara to
the nearest cold beer. The last time I tasted one was at Lonnock Beach on
October 21. I managed to trade with t-shirts, pencils, pocket calculator, etc.
for some vegetables and fruit. I liked the Snake Beans which are at least two
feet long, a pumpkin like squash which last for a long time on the boat and
tastes great.
I
left Saturday the 5th for Honiara by
way of San Cristobal Island.
The weather was still in the very unsettled I.T.C.
(Inter Tropical Conversion zone) state; lots of heavy showers and dark clouds.
The day started out fine. I caught my second Mahi Mahi of the week, just out side of West Pass. This
time I ate the whole fish, it was a small 12 incher, as Sashimi, much better
than cooked. In the rain showers the wind would mostly go flat. But that
afternoon I got smacked with a 15-minute squall that I figured had to be
between 50 and 60 knots. I had never experienced such violence. I wrestled the
main and the genoa down and the rigging and
mast were shaking fearfully. Thank God it was over in a short time. The 25 knot waves never had a chance to rise to this wind force.
Monday it was getting dark and I was still a ways from
the next main anchorage at KiraKira.
I dropped the hook in Kahua Bay 10.29.700 S 162.08.900 E. On motoring in I discovered
that my water cooling pump was not working. I replaced
the impellors at anchorage. It is not a good place to land a dinghy. I broke
both my oars on the attempt. The village was very pastoral and the people were
very kind and gave me some bananas. I visited the local school and shook a lot
of little hands. Next, I sailed into Wanione Bay which
is right next door and deeper and better protected. I stopped in front of the
Catholic Mission at 10.28.630 S 162.04.500 E. I met father Julio, who was
just recovering from a bout of malaria. Then I continued on that same day,
Tuesday the 8th, to the main town on the island, Kira Kira. It has an excellent
anchorage close to the town in front of the landing for the inter
island and fishing launches at 10.27.300 S 161.55 E. I liked this town.
It has lots of green spaces and big shade trees full of orchid plants. I
registered with the police and "Fleetwood" was boat number 6 for the
entire year, so far, to call at Kira Kira. I had heard that there is
an American priest here. Marcel, a student of the priest, accompanied me to see
father David. He is of the order of the Marist , a year older than me and he has been
here, in the Solomons, since 1969. He has not
lost his Boston accent.
Later that evening I met a visiting Marist priest from Honiara,
father Joseph (Joop) Kluwen, who came here from Holland around
the same time as father David and is of the same 1936 vintage. I hope to
go to mass at Holy Cross in Honiara,
where he serves, this Sunday. I managed to exchange about US$ 50 worth of Fiji money
and bought some supplies, 3 gallons of Diesel and fruit and vegetables. No cold
beer yet!..... I left shortly after my shopping spree, yesterday.
The day started out beautifully and it appeared that the ITC had finally moved
on. But that was a teaser. The rain showers came back and then the wind just
died. I pulled into Selwyn Bay on
a small island to the North of San Cristobal and found a very nice anchorage at
10.16.600S 161.44 East. There is another good
spot closer to the village in the bend of the bay, further north. I did not
want to go ashore. Good thing I did stop because there was not a fluster of
wind all night. But this morning I left in a breeze of just under 10 knots. I
hoisted the spinnaker and this has to be the finest sailing day of the trip. It
is 5.30 p.m. now
and I am still sailing with the chute up. But there are black clouds closing in
now. This morning I overheard Scott of "Tournesol" report in to the "Sailors
Rag" net that he and Pam should make landfall to-morrow in New
Zealand. This is just an extraordinary feat of
these two legally blind sailors. I heartily recommend that you visit their
site http://www.blindsailing.com/ and
learn about their voyage from San
Francisco, via Mexico and
the usual Milk Run stops. In the meantime
I have made it in to Honiara on
Saturday November 12. The sail from Selwyn Bay was
also a slow one and I spent the night 25 miles from Honiara in Taivu Bay. 9.24.674 S 160.20 East. It is at the mouth of a river.
I had some very generous visitors and left with a bunch of papayas, coconuts
and Japanese eggplant. I rinsed my saltwater laundry in the river. When I went
further up river a young couple waded towards me from the village. She, Maia,
carried a basket on her head; which turned out to be food she had cooked for
me. It turned out to be a very tasty lasagna
like dish of taro root and leave with some nuts in it; and a collection of
cooked yams and taro. I rowed them to the boat. The village was hit by a severe
flood in a 1996 cyclone and many had re-settled on higher ground. It is hard to
understand that these people who have so little can be so generous.
I
am anchored right in front of the Point Cruz Yacht Club in Honiara.
There are three French boats here; one of them with Roulieau and Cristelle, who I met in Sola. I am the 26th yacht
here, this year, in the Y.C.'s guest book. I finally did get my cold beer and,
judging from the slight headache this morning, a couple more, for catch up. I
ended up in a Chinese restaurant Kareokeing with
four Aussies. Honiara has
cars and some white people and buildings taller than three stories. I went to
mass at Holy Cross cathedral and met up once more with father Joop Kluwen. I plan to spend a week or so here. And then
I'd like to check out the Florida islands
about ten miles to the Northwest. There is supposed to be a haul out facility
and "Fleetwood" needs to have the bottom repainted and the water line
raised once again. Another 5 degrees further north will put me outside of the
southern Cyclone belt. The next opportunity could be in Manila.
From the Florida islands
I will head for Bougainville island and then pass through the north eastern section
of Papua New Guinea on
my way to Palau and
the Philippines.
You
will have noticed that I am now venturing out into more anchorages and making
shorter passages. In French Polynesia I
had less confidence in my anchoring security and stuck to the charted
anchorages. I am learning to recognize the signs, in water color, shore
line, etc., for depths and holding.