Wow, we’ve certainly entered a different part of the Pacific here. There are cars driving around the atolls, high rise hotels in the capital city Noumea, and a cosmopolitan mix of a young, fashionable French community. Very far from tribal village life in Vanuatu. It’s a good half way point for us before we immerse ourselves back in the modern world of New Zealand in December.



We had a long passage from Papua New Guinea, spending 22 days at sea before reaching land at Vanuatu. We had the company of the wandering ocean birds as we crossed the Solomon Sea, and occasionally the large birds would rest awhile on our solar panels and take a break from their long flight. When the squalls came upon us in the night we dropped the sails while they howled over us, and the birds fortunate enough to be close to Moet would take shelter on our decks until the winds had passed, huddling down low to take refuge from the angry weather.

It was good to have some more time in Vanuatu, and one of the highlights of our return was a 2 day hike into the hills of Santo island, to stay in a custom village. We were accompanied by our local friend, Vira, who knew the area and its languages very well, and he took us across huge rivers, jungle covered hills, and through isolated villages where the men wore only loincloths, and the women just a few leaves around their waist – hardly sufficient even to be called a grass skirt. The hospitality was incredible, in every village we stopped for a bowl of kava and some laplap (island dish made from pounded cassava and coconut), and the villagers asked Vira questions about us and where we had come from. They were fascinated to hear we were people of the sea and had traveled amongst many of the Pacific countries, and were keen to hear how the people of these other countries lived.

The village where we spent the night was at the top of a high mountain; the area around the huts had been cleared of grass, and the soil was a deep red colour and cracked from the heat of the sun. They were having a festival to celebrate their belief of eternal life, which consisted of dancing day and night for several weeks. The musicians banged bamboo poles on huge wooden slabs, and the dancers ran in a circle around the group, whooping and chanting.

After we returned to Vira’s house, his wife taught me how to weave a basic palm frond basket. We made several large ones, then Vira and his brothers filled them with yams and bananas and other gifts from their gardens. Since we had been to their home and their village we invited them to Moet to see how we lived. Vira, his wife Faye, and their 5 children all stayed on board for 2 nights – that’s 9 people on a 12m boat, just over a metre each! The children were really excited to be sleeping in little bunks and the older boys piled in together. We went for a sail across the small channel and let everyone have a turn at the helm.

But now, back to New Caledonia, where we arrived in July after a very rough passage from Santo. The seas were huge with breaking crests which dumped masses of blue water on top of us, and it felt as if we were literally being thrown from one wave to another at times. It was the sort of passage that made us swear we would sell the boat at the next port! But a ferro-cement boat has the advantage of being heavy, and therefore relatively stable in rough seas, and we felt we were in safe hands. It sometimes seems amazing the forces that act upon the boat and how everything holds together!!