Mintaka is not a large boat. Some of you may think that thirty-eight feet is large, and I suppose it is for just the two of us. But there’s an old cruiser saying, “Drinks for six, dinner for four, but she really just sleeps two,” which definitely applies to Mintaka. We have had four aboard as crew on a passage, but we’ve never had two non-sailor guests for an offshore cruise. John and Claudia were the first such, and despite the close quarters, it was super.
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| John & Claudia |
John Johnson is a dear old friend from Salt Lake, with whom we have shared many adventures over the years. He and his s.o., Claudia James, flew in to Port Vila two weeks ago to join us. With them not yet over jet lag, we set off on an unexpectedly boisterous overnight passage. One of the two proved to have a cast-iron stomach, preparing food in the galley under difficult conditions, yet feeling perfectly fine the entire time. The other was sick as the proverbial dog. I won’t say which was which, other than that John had assured us that he wouldn’t get sick.
Well, morning came, we sailed into the quiet waters in the lee of little Akamb Island, and the crew all came back to life. This was a new place for us, and it was delightful. The people were exceptionally friendly, even by Vanuatu standards. We were welcomed ashore by chief Errol Sam, who gave us the usual carte blanche to walk around the village, which we then proceeded to do. We shortly came upon a few young men making copra, that is, drying coconut meat to send off for processing into coconut oil. Copra is a traditional source of income throughout the Pacific islands — a lot of work, though, for not much money. Anyway, we struck up a conversation, and they soon asked us if we would like some pamplemousse. Unable to turn down an offer for my favorite fruit, we followed them from tree to tree as they searched for just the right ones to give us. In the process, we met various relations, and became quite friendly with Abel Sam, son of chief Errol Sam. A lovely visit ensued, with Robyn getting a brief weaving fix in with Abel’s daughter, while Abel and I just sat and talked. In turn, we had Abel and one of his sons out to the boat for a visit. We came away with quite a few pamplemousse and oranges, and several times Abel repeated that food on the island was free to us, no payment was expected. We, of course, reciprocated with a few gifts, this mutual exchange of gifts being so much nicer than a more business-like trade.
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| Mark with Abel Sam |
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| Robyn & Claudia with Abel's Wife |
Besides enjoying the visit with new friends on Akamb, we had the opportunity to snorkel out to a wrecked WWII fighter plane. For some reason, we assumed it would be close to shore in relatively shallow water. Not so. We swam and swam, following Jack — his family is the owner by tradition of the seabed where the wreck was located — farther and farther from shore, until the wreckage appeared below us in some forty to fifty feet of water. The water clarity was good, though, and it was well worth the long swim. I surprised myself by diving all the way down and touching the wreck. It turns out that the pilot had ditched close to the beach, and had gotten out unharmed, but a patrol boat towed the wreckage into deeper water afterwards. Before swimming back to shore, Jack asked us if we would also like to see a machine gun of some sort that was also out there, which we obviously went for. Alas, he couldn’t find it.
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| That was a little deep! |
When we first met Jack — the meeting was arraged for us by the Sams — he seemed aloof, almost put out by having to guide us out to the wreck. It didn’t take long, though, before we were all old buddies. Later that day, we all congregated at the local kava bar, where we all had a few shells of that repugnant, mildly intoxicating brew. John and Claudia, more experienced with intoxicants than Robyn and me, felt no effect at all. We got only a slight buzz. Kava is a drink made from grinding a particular root and just mixing it with water. It looks like dirty dish water, and tastes about like I’d expect dirty dish water to taste. If you drink enough of it, you get a mellowing, numbing effect. It is widely drunk in these islands, and the Vanuatu variety is reputed to be the strongest. I’ve asked a number of ni-Vanuatu if they like the taste of kava. They all admit that no, what they like is the effect.
We moved on to Avokh village, a place we had visitied two years ago. On that entire visit in Vanuatu, Avokh was the only place we saw sailing canoes. We had an old, no-longer-useable jib with us, so before we left for New Caledonia, we took an opportunity to send that old sail back to Avokh with another cruiser. Imagine my surprise and pleasure as we dropped the anchor this time, two years later, to see a canoe sailing by with a sail made unmistakably from our old jib.
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| The remains of one of our old sails |
The next morning, Sunday, we attended church, Robyn and Claudia appropriately dressed in Mother Hubbards, the voluminous flour-sack-like dresses introduced by the missionaries. Not that I much like church services, but the locals seem to really appreciate our joining them, and it is a great way to meet people. At the end of the service, we were called forward for a welcome, then instructed to stand next to the church leaders at the doorway to shake hands with everyone as they filed out. After that, they ushered us to the community hall, where a lunch of island foods had been prepared for us. Just us. No one ate with us, although one of the chiefs sat with us while we ate. It always feels a little strange to be treated that way. The big hit, though, was the afternoon movies that we provided in the community hall. We brought my laptop and Claudia’s tablet ashore, and ran a movie on each. I doubt anyone understood much of the stories, but the several dozen watching each movie sure seemed to enjoy the action scenes. Before going back to Mintaka, John and Claudia got to paddle one of the dugouts — John has done a lot of paddling over the years in various craft — and then traded for a local paddle to add to his collection.
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| Afternoon at the movies |
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| John & Claudia paddling a dugout |
Next stop was a nearby village called Lutes. The locals there had created a conservation area for giant clams, Tridactna sp., some years ago, and we all took a snorkeling tour out to see it. The water clarity was poor, but it was still pretty cool to see a hundred or so of these huge, colorful clams. We also arranged to see some traditional Small Nambas dancing. Small Nambas differ from Big Nambas, who wear a much larger penis sheath. They were traditional enemies, often eating each other. Such dances tell stories, or even supposedly work magic, and are performed in traditional dress, meaning essentially naked. It was interesting to watch a group of men dancing with nothing but body paint and a leaf wrapped around their dicks, seemingly uninhibited, and posing for photos afterwards.
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| Giant Clam, Tridactna sp. |
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| Small Nambas Dance |
The overall plan with John and Claudia was to sail from Port VIla, where they had joined us, north to Malekula Island, then work our way up the coast of Malekula to a point where they could fly out back to Vila. This gave them a good taste of cruising without having to beat back upwind (a difficult and unpleasant task with a time schedule) to get back to the airport.
So, moving on, we spent two nights anchored up the coast in Crab Bay. Shortly after anchoring, a man came out in a canoe to greet us, offer us fruit, etc. But he had an ID badge clipped to his shirt, which made me wonder. After a bit, he told us — all in Bislama, as he spoke no English — that there was a fee for anchoring there, a rather steep one at that. We pay the government a daily fee for the right to anchor anywhere we chose, and are told not to pay any locals who might ask. This is the first time we’ve encountered this, and after some discussion, I told him I would come ashore in the morning to talk about it with the local chief, which he seemed happy enough with. So, he let go of Mintaka to paddle off, only to find that there was no paddle in his canoe. It had fallen out and drifted off out of sight somewhere. There was a stiff breeze blowing out of the bay to sea, and a considerable distance to shore, the combination of which immediately put an anxious look on his face. I quickly threw him a rope before he drifted off too far, and then we rigged the motor on the rubber dinghy and gave him a tow. Despite our feelings about the fee, we could hardly do less. Upon reaching shore, though, I had the idea to suggest to him that, all things considered, namely that we had saved his butt, maybe he could just forget about the fee. Not surprisingly, he agreed. Good return on my language study.
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| Using one of our paddles as a steering oar |
Crab Bay was a pretty spot, but the snorkeling on the outside reef there was what made it special, ranking well up there with the best. Besides lots of fish, some pretty large, plus one small shark and good coral displays, we were able to swim with several dozen sea turtles. Really cool! We’ve seen turtles from time to time, but always from the deck of the boat. Being in the water with them, and in such numbers, and at such proximity, was just magic.
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| Sea turtle in flight |
Well, John and Claudia got off yesterday on an inter-island flight to Port Vila, so we’re on our own again, and Mintaka does seem large after all.
