We are moving right along on our speed tour of the Shepherd group of islands of Northern Vanuatu, as the real goal of this cruise is the Solomon Islands. After two nights in Epi we moved on to Ambrym Island which features twin live volcanoes, Mt Marum and Mt Benbow, that occasionally erupt and disrupt the local village way of life! Ambrym is also called The Black Island because of its black volcanic soil. As we cruised along the northwest coastline an inversion layer created a dreary landscape, pressing down volcanic soot and ash to blanket the mountain tops while matching smoke from garden refuse fires rose up to blend into the gray haze. I thought we had seen black sand beaches along the coast of Epi, but they were just a muddy brown compared to the gritty beach sand here, the color of backyard barbeque charcoal briquets. The scenery is mountainous and lushly vegetated under the pall of the volcanic smog.
We headed for a lunch spot where natural swimming pools are filled by a river of hot fresh water, warmed by the volcanic activity, flowing down from the uplands to empty into the sea! And with perfect timing we snagged an impressive 30 pound wahoo trolling with our brand new heavy duty fishing lines and lures. He was nearly as long as May is tall, and should provide several meals for the four of us, starting with the day’s lunch an hour or so later.
As soon as we reached our anchorage near the village of Ranvetlam, a local man in his canoe paddled alongside, greeting us as ‘most warmly, warmly welcome’ to his island. After a bit of negotiating with Rod he promised to organize a Rom Dance for us the next day. Rod has fond memories of Ambrym from a dozen years ago when he cruised this same locale in his own yacht Uhwilna, and the Rom Dance is one of his more favored memories that he was anxious to share.
An actively volcanic island fosters a culture steeped in magic and Ambrym is considered to be Vanuatu’s sorcery center. Here magic and sorcerers (man blong majik in Vanuatu’s official language of Bislama, a form of pidgin English)are held in high regard. Kastom (still observant of ancient ancestral beliefs and traditions) villages reside comfortably next to Christian communities.
Ambrym’s Rom Dance is a striking traditional ceremony with elaborate costumes consisting of tall conical brightly painted masks of banana fiber and a full cloak made of banana leaves. Each dancer in his costume represents a spirit. In years past it was rare to have the opportunity to see these dances as the costumes were traditionally destroyed after the dance to keep the spirit from taking over and haunting or impersonating the dancer. But now some villages are prepared to perform the dance for tourists, given sufficient notice. The senior chiefs dance without costumes, instead adorned with penis sheaths and boar’s tusk pendants, a symbol of status.
Our host met us the following morning on the beach and guided us on an uphill hike to the nearby kastom village of Fanla where we were greeted with refreshments of green coconuts and given a tour of the village while the dancers made their last minute preparations. Then we were seated on the edge of the ceremonial grounds to enjoy the spectacle. I was allowed to photograph to my heart’s content but our guide warned me it was tabu to touch a dancer or his costume, so stay well clear lest I be subjected to the punishment meted out to tabu breakers!
When the festivities concluded, we had some time to shop a small impromptu market of wood and stone carvings, before embarking on the (thankfully) downhill trek home. But at the last house in the village Rod spied a friend and acquaintance, named John, his guide during his visit 12 years ago. John remembered Rod with enthusiasm and came down to AVATAR later in the day to reminisce. John was also hoping to raise the school fees he needed for his three children (when he last met Rod he was newly married) so he brought along a handsomely carved wooden mask which he sold to us at a discount for friendship’s sake. He promised that no magic spell had been applied to our new mask. If it had, the spirit of the mask would go walkabout at night and the sound of its footsteps would keep us awake on the boat.
Eventually we sent John on his way with a ziplock baggie of frozen wahoo, some shiny new sunglasses, and hopefully enough vatu to educate his kids.
