Today is Sunday August 22 (Vanuatu time) and we are gently cruising back to Port Vila, our latest adventure coming to a close.  We have visited every island in southern Vanuatu except Futuna which has no suitable anchorage – Efate, Erromango, Aniwa, Tanna, and Aneityum.  Our next trip in October/November will focus on the northern part of the chain.

It is a beautiful balmy day with blue skies, puffy white clouds, gentle swells and we are bobbing along downwind at 9-10 knots – occasionally surfing down the waves up to 11′s or more.  In rougher weather a few weeks past AVATAR approached 15 knots in downwind surfing conditions.  Today we are trying hard not to fall asleep on our respective watches.  Tomorrow we’ll rent a car in Port Vila and take an island tour of Efate; next day will be devoted to laundry, housekeeping and packing; the following day our flight out of Vanuatu departs at 7 a.m. so we’ll be waking up early!  Home in Tucson the night of August 25 (Arizona time).

Back to the past - August 10

Finally volcano expedition day!  Our same driver Darwa and the same battered red truck are to be our transportation to Mt. Yasur.  In general Darwa prefers to leave at 4:30 pm from Port Resolution’s village, returning about 8:30 pm which allows for a great night show.  We asked for an earlier departure time to give us time to evaluate the lay of the land before dark, make some decisions about where to set up the camera (on a tripod) etc. but we were warned by the other yachties that no matter how agreeable a driver might seem about adjusting the departure time, somehow it does’t actually happen.

We spent the morning leisurely exploring Irukow Village – a traditional village but with some extra amenities to accommodate visiting boaters – a yacht club with bungalows for overnight stays, an elementary school with some 150 students, at least one church but probably more, a “coffee shop” (this would be a thatched hut with dirt floor, interior walls draped with swaths of colorful tropical fabric, and a picnic table down the center – coffee was served with 2 store bought cookies and a banana), a “restaurant” (a larger thatched hut, similar description), a store with sea shells and handwoven baskets, garden produce and one overpriced dinghy anchor.

We ate lunch in the restaurant and made plans to return for dinner post-volcano.  Our triangular eco-friendly disposable plates were woven from pandanus leaves and slung with a hammock of banana leaf to support the food with bougainvillea blossoms tucked into the corners.  The menu was a smorgasbord of island recipes featuring omelets but we pre-ordered chicken curry for dinner and learned later from the villagers that our hostess Leah spent the afternoon scrambling to come up with a rooster suitable for the pot!

The village circles an open grassy knoll overlooking both the sea the the harbor.  The houses are mostly thatched huts, well kept and landscaped, edged with tropical plants including poinsettias higher than our heads, seashells and the occasional figurine carved from tree fern trunks.  Dirt pathways are raked to spotlessness.  Ladies in flowered Mother Hubbard dresses lounge under the shade trees weaving more homemade baskets; children and skittish island dogs are in abundance as are chickens and chicks, pigs and piglets.  Driving down the main road to Lenakel we passed village after village of similar description, all inviting and attractive, nestled in the rain forest.  Locals walk along the road with loads slung over the shoulders, going to or coming from their garden plots, harvesting food for their meals.

The Vanuatu people (correct term: Ni Vanuatu) are courteous and polite.  Even in the market there is no sales pitch, just a pleasant ‘hello’.  Merchandise is available for sale, take it or leave it, no bargaining.  Everyone introduces themselves with a handshake – ‘hello, my name is David (or Peter, Joseph, Ben, Donald, Sarah, Leah, Priscilla)” – the missionaries have left their mark.  Sometimes a modest request – could we charge a cellphone (lots of cellphones in these otherwise somewhat primitive environments), do we have a bit of rope to repair an outboard motor’s starter cord, could we spare some diesel for the community truck, could Rod maybe repair the misbehaving community generator (diagnosis:  fuel filter had never been changed in all the years they owned it)??? And in trade, would we like something from their gardens – papayas, bananas, coconuts, oranges, kumara, tomatoes?

We field a barrage of miscellaneous and sometimes misinformed questions:  was Elvis Presley’s body ever found, who shot Michael Jackson, what do we think of President Obama, are we millionaires (this last prompted by the misconception that sailboats are powered by wind for free but power boats need lots of expensive diesel fuel, also the conviction that everyone in the USA is a millionaire)????

Finally the day passed and it was time to go – we did manage to leave at 4 pm, a triumph although we had requested 2:30!  This time the passenger load was light – just our crew of 3 plus a village teenager excited to visit the volcano for only the 2nd time in his life.  As a result Darwa was able to offer a lift to some of the passers-by including a portly, barefoot, beamingly toothless old woman who must have been hauling at least 70 pounds of something in a bulging bulbous bag slung over her shoulder.

There was an entrance fee to the volcano and a line of four or five other vehicles bearing tourists from Lenakel.   Single file we all drove up a steep winding roadway edged by steam vents, then the road disappeared and we emerged onto a moonscape of sloping fields of ash, the bleak barren shoulder of the volcano itself.  Mt. Yasur is less than 400 meters high and cars can drive to within 150 meters of the rim – it’s an easy climb to the top, the most accessible live volcano in the world.  The crater is some 300 meters across and 100 meters deep, with three interior vents at the bottom taking turns spitting up showers of molten rocks and smoke and occasional boulders the size of small trucks.  There are gradations of volcanic activity, with a 3 or a 4 being more severe and worthy of caution – but nowhere did we see an indication of the current level.  However we did hear via the yachting grapevine that Yasur was relatively quiet at the moment.

By daylight the volcano was sufficiently impressive, coughing up thick writhing clouds of sulphurous smoke and ash, molten lava bombs and the occasional gigantic boulder from out of its depths and up over our heads.  Direct contact with a lava bomb would disintegrate you.  A molten pebble would melt a hole through your flesh.  One tourist has been killed, others severely singed.  Dull red sparks were visible in the depths if you looked hard enough.  Sulphurous fumes made our eyes sting and throat burn.  And from deep within emanated a continuous threatening cacophony of furious grumbling and growling, roaring and clanking, enough to elicit visions of a dragon complaining deep in its lair.  The southern Tannese once believed that all the universe originated from Mt. Yasur’s gaping, complaining, belching, fiery mouth.

The wind was blowing a good 30 or more knots in disconcerting gusts that made me stagger – not a good feeling as one peers over the edge into an inferno.  Fortunately our extra half hour gave us time to check out all viewpoints – right, center and left – and Rod directed us towards the highest ridge to the left, upwind of the smoky fumes and with a spectacular view down Yasur’s throat.   I experimented with a few lenses, then mounted one camera on a tripod and hand held a second.  With the gusting winds we never dared take a hand off tripod and camera for a moment.  I had studied up on techniques for shooting 4th of July fireworks and applied them to my settings – manual mode, f/11, exposure 2-4 seconds.  A little tweaking and it seemed to work.

As the sun went down, the fiery heart of the constantly erupting volcano materialized out of the smoke and ash.  Rod and I were pretty stoked but Mike opted to retreat to a safer distance and abandoned the two of us to our quest for a cool photo or two.  Finally Rod and I called it quits and headed back down the cone in the pitch dark, the last tourists off the crater – picking our way down in the dark with black night sky above, sloping black sand footing below.  Fortunately we had LED flashlights to help guide our footsteps down the treacherous barren shoulder back to the safety of the fenced walkway,  parking lot, and our battered mini pickup.

I skipped riding in the truck bed on the ride home and opted to ride in the cab, worn out  by the adrenalin of the night.  Darwa dropped us off at the Leah’s restaurant where she was waiting (napping in the kitchen) with our chicken curry and we had a festive dinner (BYOB – several!) on lopsided picnic tables, illuminated by flashlights, as we celebrated our adventure and survival thereof!

August 7-9

From our one-night stopover in Aniwa we sailed another 5-6 hours to Port Resolution on the island of Tanna, named by Captain Cook after his own ship when he first discovered the island in the 1700′s, drawn in by the orange glow in the night sky of Mt. Yasur.  Port Resolution is a protected circle of a bay with high forested hillsides all around except at the narrow entrance.  As we approached we could see Mt. Yasur belching out clouds of ash which then mixed with cumulonimbus clouds generated by its heat to create an impressive display.  From our anchorage in Port Resolution we could no longer see the volcano, but the wind was blowing from the “wrong” direction and the ash cloud blew our way for the first 24 hours, raining down on our deck a fine black grit giving AVATAR a good start on her very own black sand beach.

Port Resolution also features hot springs and fumaroles on the hillside closest to the volcano.  Down on the black sand beach rocky tide pools were filled with near boiling hot water where the locals cooked their meals and visiting yachties experimented with boiling eggs.  At the base of the cliffs were swimming holes where at low tide the hot water mixed with sea water produces bathwater temperatures.  Above on the hillside we could see assorted wisps of steam rising up from fissures in the rock.

We went on an exploratory hike to see the vents starting from the beach where a local woman intercepted us to request a fee of 600 vatu ($6) each for us to walk along the short trail and see the sights.  This seemed a bit excessive to us; however the Tannese don’t have many opportunities to generate income so charging tourists to see the natural wonders is one of the few.  To their credit, the dirt trail was meticulously raked clean and maintained by an elderly couple that we passed part way up.  Also 2 or 3 pole framed rest stops had been constructed at view points.  And the elderly man trailed along after us on the walk, presumably our guide although he didn’t speak any English that we could understand.  He did know which branches of the trail to take to get us to the most interesting spots, and cautioned us if we strayed into a danger zone.  As well as the steam vents, the largest of which rose up from a deep canyon-like fault in the earth, we found rock outcroppings and knobby hillsides that were hot to the touch, and warm red clay which is used for the red face paint worn in ceremonial dancing.

We needed some replenishment of supplies by the time we arrived in Tanna, so our first order of business was to arrange a ride to Lenakel on the other side of the island where a big market takes place three days each week.  Of course we were approached our first morning by the ubiquitous local in a dugout canoe – this time it was Peter who introduced himself and declared that in the absence of his uncle Stanley he himself was in charge of any arrangements we might need.  For the trip to Lenakel he told us to show up in the village next morning at 7:30 to catch our transport.

We presented ourselves next morning as instructed – just Rod and I this time.  Mike and I had hiked a couple of hours the day before along the main “road” and having seen its condition Mike opted out of what promised to be a bone jarring adventure.  It took another hour before our driver was ousted out of his house with all onlooking villagers calling out his name to help us out.  Rod and I climbed aboard our transport – the bed of a battered compact pickup truck with bench seats built from 2×6 boards around its perimeter.  Fortunately for us another yachtie couple, Ken and Di from Melbourne who had been forewarned, showed up with seat cushions which they shared.  Soon the truck was piled high with we four yachties and another passel of locals all off to market, a total of 14 of us piled into that little truck.

The distance from Port Resolution to Lenakel is about 21 km, but it is such a rough road that it takes about 2 hours each way to make the trip making our shopping trip an all-day excursion.  The road is packed black soil, ruts worn for the two truck tires, grass growing down the middle.  Gargantuan pot hole gullies from rain runoff eat away about one-third of the roadway in many spots.  A couple of mudslides from two months ago had been cleared away.  At the worst spots rocks and logs have been thrown into the void to provide a bit of traction for vehicles with poles stuck in the ground marking the edge of stability.  Pigs wallow in mud puddles and scoot across the road in front of us.

Tanna is a big island with rainforest, a central plain with herds of wild horses, and mountains enshrouded in mist.  We emerged from the rainforest only to race across the barren ash plains of Mt. Yasur, wind down and out of  a winding dry wash of a gully, and then creep up and over the highest mountain on the island, its peak cloaked in fog and mist and definitely chillier than at sea level, pausing occasionally to shift into four wheel drive to help the truck and its heavy load over the steepest bits.  At least here was some concrete pavement grooved for extra traction and stability.

Our driver was an 18 year old named Darwa who did an excellent job of maneuvering carefully through the questionable spots, made good time on the straight and level, and didn’t bounce a single passenger out onto the road or off a cliff.  However we could see into the truck’s cab from our perches that the fuel light was lit up on the dashboard the entire trip – Darwa made a couple of detours in search of diesel but came up empty each foray, so we all crossed our fingers we wouldn’t wind up hitchhiking or (worse) pushing our little truck into Lenakel.

Lenakel itself was a bustling little town compared with Port Resolution which is a much more traditional village of native huts and gardens.   Flights from Port Vila carry tourists to Tanna primarily to see the volcano and there are resort bungalows, a few small shops, a customs and immigration office to clear in yachts arriving in the country, schools, churches, and a big market spread out under the dense shade of three massive banyan trees – 2 living and 1 a gigantic dead stump.  We took care of our shopping – loading up on kumara (sweet potatoes), carrots, green beans, tomatoes, avocados, cucumbers, lettuce, bananas, limes; had a coffee in the coffee shop (the ladies were embarrassed to admit the electricity was out but we talked them into boiling the water over a fire out back), met the local celebrity who was one of Vanuatu’s World Cup soccer players, bought a couple of CDs of the local music group Naio, lunched at the market on Vanuatu’s equivalent of a tamale (ground meat embedded in dough and wrapped in a banana leaf) and then repeated the adventurous road trip back to Port Resolution.  We had a few less people going back but a lot more “stuff” to fill up the gaps.

We had thought about taking the volcano tour that evening but after the day’s outing decided to delay that adventure for a day and retire to the comfort of our floating condo.

Erromango Postscript:  Last posting I forget to mention a special moment that took place as we returned from a scuba outing at Erromango.  Rod, Mike and I were racing across the waves in the big dinghy when the pod of resident dolphins joined us and started surfing the the bow wave, backs rising and falling within arm’s reach!

August 6 – From Erromango we sailed to a very small island named Aniwa where we spent just one night but managed to fit in two dives, one the afternoon we arrived; the other the next morning before we deported.  Aniwa has a huge spectacular lagoon at one end which we explored a bit by dinghy – there was a resort on the lagoon’s beach, very pleasant if you like Spartan island amenities.  As usual the locals came out in their dugouts to check out the yacht.  At night from the anchorage we could see our next destination and the focal point of our entire trip, the island Tanna, some 50 miles in the distance but still dully glowing red from Mt. Yasur’s constant activity.  And while we enjoyed the stars and the view of the distant volcano we heard the distinct exhaling breath of a nearby whale.

We’ve been scuba diving a lot this trip – I think to date I’ve logged 9 dives, not counting multiple snorkeling expeditions as well.  The water is incredibly clear, the reefs are jam-packed with healthy coral, myriads of colorful reef fish and some larger ones as well – we’ve seen barracuda, big grouper, rays, a few sharks, lots of turtles, a big cuttlefish and several small squid.  The other day after diving in the morning with Rod, I went again in the afternoon by myself on a shallow reef that was swimming distance from where we had anchored AVATAR.  By myself I was able to spend an hour or so just a few feet below the surface, staying in just one spot and having time to concentrate on catching a good shot.  Mike sat on AVATAR’s flying bridge keeping an eye on me by watching my bubble trail.

Underwater photography is a challenge unto itself.  First off there is considerable paranoia involved, fear of pilot error causing a fatal flooding of the underwater housing and instant destruction of expensive camera and lens!  Secondly, not only are the subjects in motion (darting fish, tentacles of sea anemones waving in the current) but the photographer is constantly in motion as well, rising, sinking, swaying with the surge or being swept along by a current.  Often by the time the photo is framed and the autofocus locked on, I’ve been carried right past the sweet spot and just have a blurry missed shot to show for it.

Another challenge is keeping track of myself and my surroundings while concentrating on the subject in the viewfinder.  Dangling appendages of dive gear and flapping flippers can break off the fragile coral I’ve come to admire, so at the same time I need to get close to the subject I need to avoid touching the reef and causing damage.  And it’s easy to zero in on the subject and not know what’s happening around me at the same time.  After our dive together on Aniwa, Rod told me he had spotted a grey shark but I missed it as I was in hot pursuit of a big grouper.  Not until I developed my favorite grouper shot on the computer did I spot the shark’s tail exiting the frame on the lower left!

In shallow water there is plenty of sunlight and the colors are natural, but descend into the depths and all the warm colors – reds, yellows, etc. – fade away leaving only blue.  All the images out of the camera start out a foggy monotone but fortunately my editing skills are improving and I’m able to find the “true colors” in all that watery blue.  What at 20 meters depth appears to be a sea fan of black coral turns out to be fiery red when viewed in the sunlight.

I’ll end with a few of my successes; the many failures have been consigned to the digital garbage dump!

Next stop, Tanna.

Today, Saturday August 14, we are settled in a beautiful anchorage by the island of Aneityum, the southernmost point of our explorations before heading back in the direction of Port Vila.  The bad weather the guys have been tracking on the weather reports has arrived and we are socked in with a grey cloud of rain overhead and a glassy gray sea below, rocking gently in the swell.

A rainy day aboard AVATAR is actually welcome – just like in Tucson a good excuse not to feel obligated to go outside, enjoy the sunshine, and pursue a good time.  Instead we are on the third load of laundry (full size washer and dryer, one of AVATAR’s perks), comfy and dry in the great room looking through the plate glass picture windows (another of AVATAR‘s perks) at the soggy scenery outside.  And the boat is getting a nice freshwater bath, rinsing off the saltwater and volcanic ash from our last stop in Port Resolution where the volcano Mt. Yasur spews ash up into the sky to rain black sandy grit down on us when the wind blows the wrong way!  A perfect  day to read a book, edit photos in Lightroom, or type a blog!

July 31 – August 6

Continuing on in catch-up mode – we spent a couple of nights by Moso Island and Mike and I squeezed in a shallow practice scuba dive, our first in almost a year!   We kept our eyes open for the rumored dugong that was hanging out in Esoma Bay but didn’t spot him – a dugong is a nine foot one ton sea creature often called a sea cow, gentle and benign, that feeds on sea grass and is similar to but not the same as a Florida manatee.  That night aboard AVATAR we turned on the fish finding sonar to see if we could locate him, but only discovered a turtle floating near the boat.

Then back to Port Vila for some final errands, including a trip to the post office to mail the prints I made of of Tom and Robson.  I wound up buying some Vanuatu stamps – illustrated with reef fish, whales, dolphins, nudibranches and other sea life, as well as images from World War II including the sinking of the President Coolidge.

And then we embarked on the real focus of our trip, which was to visit the islands to the south of Efate, especially Tanna, home of  Mt. Yasur.  Our next trip to AVATAR later this fall will give us time to explore the islands to the north before finishing up in New Caledonia.

First stop was the island Erromango.  We anchored in Dillons Bay by the village there and were greeted by the ubiquitous dugout canoes, including one paddled by David who introduced himself as the local tourist guide and magically appeared every time we headed in to shore.  Our first guided tour was to limestone caves in vine and root tangled cliffs along the beach where the bones of his ancestors were interred in pre-missionary days before the missionaries convinced the natives to bury their dead in the ground.  Clambering up the cliffside using the roots and vines as hand and footholds, Mike and I did a pretty good Tarzan imitation.  It wasn’t horrendously difficult but I had made the mistake of wearing my Crocs and they are eminently unsuitable for this kind of adventure.  I’ve graduated to my lace up hiking boots for future land expeditions!

Another guided tour with David – we meandered through his village and up the river saying hello to everyone we met (close to a hundred?) and photographed nearly everyone in the entire village at David’s request, with the thought that I would eventually burn and send him a DVD of the images to share with the villagers for an evening’s entertainment thanks to the communal generator.  I printed out some 30 snapshots before we left and will work on the DVD when I get home – presumably the address is David, Dillons Bay, Erromango, Vanuatu!  The ladies had been cooking a feast of laplap, Vanuatu’s national dish, a mixture of root vegetables (taro, manioc and yams) plus coconut milk and meat, wrapped in green leaves, tied into parcels with vines, and baked in a ground oven under hot stones.  They saved us a bundle to take back to the boat for dinner – actually it was quite good, especially with the grilled filet Rod had brought from New Zealand.

A couple of outstanding scuba dives at Erromango – fingers of limestone reaching out into the sea are covered with a healthy tapestry of all kinds of coral and reef growth, winding gullies separating each finger of reef.  We saw several turtles including one who let us approach within arm’s length and a huge solitary dogfin tuna in the deeper water.

A pod of spinner dolphins lives in Dillons Bay and we could see them at all hours of every day, gently cruising in the shallow water, splashing and playing, sometimes leaping full out of the water and spinning (longitudinally, the only variety of dolphin that spins along its axis instead of somersaulting fore and aft).  Mike and I spent a couple of hours one day snorkeling in their vicinity – our strategy not to swim towards them but float quietly by the reef; as a result they would approach reasonably close to us.  We could see their fins and hear them breathe if we raised our masks out of the water to peer along the surface, and twice they came by underwater close enough for us to see their bodies flash by in the blue depths.

Erromango was a great stopover and we have plans to drop in on the village again on the return to Port Vila.  Rod signed up for a wild pig hunt which involves dogs, big knives, and lots of running through the bush.  I’d take pictures but no doubt it will be hopeless to keep up…he has gone into training for the event and at every island stopover now he goes out jogging to build up his stamina.

Sorry folks – I’ve been very remiss in the blogging department – we arrived in Vanuatu nearly 2 weeks ago and still I am falling into bed around 8 pm each night, occasionally as early as 7:30 pm, absolutely worn out from fresh air and lots of activities!

July 26-30
So to start from the beginning, we flew from Tucson to Port Vila via Auckland – all told a 32 hour trip from doorstep to swimstep! All went smoothly except for a 2-hour delay out of Auckland on Air Vanuatu (co-share with Qantas) while they diagnosed and repaired a part on the aircraft. With long layovers in both Los Angeles and Auckland, we made the decision to join Air New Zealand’s Koru Club which gives us access to their international lounges where hanging out is a lot more comfortable than an airport departure gate. The Koru Club lounges have a comfortable ambiance with sofas, chairs and tables, TVs, wifi, a buffet and free flowing wine – even showers if desired.

The country of Vanuatu is an island chain of some 83 islands in 860,000 square kilometers of ocean, located about 1,000 miles east of Brisbane. Port Vila is the capital of Vanuatu, located on the southwest coastline of the island Efate. AVATAR awaited us on a mooring in Vila Bay’s beautiful harbor, a scenic and busy place with a cruise ship or two passing through, a couple of Australian naval boats in port to help celebrate Vanuatu’s Independence Day (July 30), a sightseeing helicopter coming and going, kite surfers, open dories loaded to the gunnels ferrying locals to work and to school, a small island a stone’s throw from shore with its own private resort, and a large quantity of yachts here for the cruising season. 80% of Vanuatu’s tourism traffic comes from New Zealand and Australia, both only a 3 hour plane trip away.

By the time we unpacked and stowed our suitcases it was time for dinner – just a dinghy ride to shore where an open air restaurant awaited by the dinghy dock – packed sand floor, thatched roof, live music and great food (I had grilled lobster) as we celebrated our upcoming inaugural cruise aboard AVATAR and the next chapter in our cruising lifestyle!

Early to bed and late to rise, next day we explored Vila on foot, stocked up on veggies in the waterfront market, checked out the handicrafts, and wandered through the city streets which had a good variety of shops – I was even able to buy Hewlett Packard ink and photo paper for our printer! And then before the day was too far gone we upped anchor and headed out of town, feeling the better part of valor was to stay away from the city’s Independence Day festivities. This was only the 30th anniversary of Vanuatu’s Independence from a combination of French & British rule and it is celebrated with enthusiasm, the biggest holiday of the year. We saw fireworks for days.

We sailed northwards up Efate’s west coastline towards our first destination – Moso Island, a small satellite of Efate. Moso Island has one village of maybe 250 inhabitants on Esoma Bay located at the mouth of a mangrove lined freshwater river. Mangrove lagoons are one of my favorite dawn kayaking destinations, so next morning I paddled away in pre-dawn gloom with camera in hand to explore. After a couple of hours meandering in the peaceful shallow waterways I started back towards home, but was approached by a local man paddling his handmade dugout outrigger canoe on his way back from a fishing expedition. He introduced himself as Tom, chatted a bit kayak to canoe, posed for a few photos, and introduced his brother Robson who also arrived by dugout. Then the brothers headed off to their gardens to stock up on food because tomorrow was a Sunday and no work is allowed on Sundays.

It takes a local man with help about 3 months to build one of these outrigger canoes entirely by hand and is the most common mode of transportation for villagers. A few locals have “speedboats” – open boats with motors, and a truck or two, but the canoes are universal. Every time we arrive at a new location we are greeted by the occupants of one or more dugouts who paddle up, offer to trade produce from their gardens, circle and inspect AVATAR and invariably comment “nice boat!”.

Tom asked me to mail him the photos I took of him – the address was “Tom, Moso Island, Vanuatu” and he assured me it would get to him no problem.

More later…

PS – Nick sent us a news report a couple of days ago saying that Port Vila had suffered a 7.5 magnitude earthquake that didn’t cause serious damage but did send the residents running for high ground in fear of a tsunami.  We weren’t there at the time and didn’t feel a thing wherever we were when it hit!

A lot of people have asked, so here is a nice little map to give perspective.

Vanuatu is 3/4 of the way from Hawaii to Australia and is made up of over 80 islands of which about 65 are inhabited.  Vanuatu is in a Y-shaped chain with four main islands, having a tropical climate which is moderated by southeast trade winds from May to October with moderate rainfall from November to April.  The “Cyclone Season” is from December to April and there have been volcanic eruptions on Aoba (Ambae) Island since November 2005.  The highest point is Tabwemasana at 1877 meters.