On Saturday, July 19, we were finally able to leave Port Stanley. We had the anchor up at about 7:30 a.m., not sure of what conditions we would encounter once outside the protection of the bay. We put the mainsail up as we were heading east, and then turned south toward the tip of Malekula. We had to motor sail most of the way, but the seas weren’t horrible, even though there had been several days of wind. The wind was on the nose for most of the sail. We tacked out away from the island a couple of times to keep the main full. Finally, toward early afternoon, the wind was more on the beam and we could put the jib up and sail to the second entrance of the Maskelyne Islands. Once inside, we turned toward the west and would have had to jibe except that we opted to furl in the jib and lower the main instead. Then we pulled the jib back out and sailed downwind in light air for a bit. We finally gave up on that and motored through the reefs and around to the anchorage in front of Uliveo Island.
Three boats were already in the anchorage but it was getting late in the day so we went in to see if we could find a spot. After a couple of attempts, we successfully anchored a bit outside of the preferred area and somewhat close to the reef. We were expecting a wind shift and strong winds the next day, but found this acceptable for the night.
The next day, Jeff worked on the watermaker, swapping out one pump for a new one to see if we could correct the poor performance that we were experiencing. We also tightened the bolts on the rudder post. The rudder had been creaking and we hoped that this was the problem. Jerone from Fidelis, a Dutch boat, came over to welcome us into the anchorage. He told us about a guide they had used for snorkeling with dugongs. And he told us about a festival that would begin on Wednesday.
We contacted Philip, the guide for seeing the dugongs and he picked us up the next day at 9:00 a.m. with his buddies, Sam and Richard. We left the bay in their boat and went over to nearby Gaspard Bay to pick up the crews from Steel Away (Brent and Beth) and Iron Jack (Kent and Michele). I had met Kent and Michele in Suwarrow and then again in Fiji. We went outside the reef at the eastern entrance to the Maskelynes and were lucky enough to swim with a few dugongs. It rained all the way back to our anchorage and we were pretty cold. The guys wanted to hang out on the boat, but we were really too cold to be great hosts. It continued to rain for the rest of the day.
On Tuesday, Jeff removed the water hose that goes from the watermaker feedpump to the Clark Pump. A lot of air came out of the hose, and when he put it back on, the watermaker started working properly. I was quite relieved. Jeff also went up the mast to try to fiddle with the wind instrument, which has a bad bearing. But he couldn’t improve it, so we have to live with limited wind information until Johno gets here with a new bearing kit. Late that afternoon, we got the expected wind shift from the south and a huge increase in wind strength. As we sat monitoring the situation, the anchor dragged and we started getting too close to Fidelis. We pulled up the anchor, moved the boat and reset the anchor, happy that we were in a good spot for the night. Even so, I woke myself up every couple of hours during the night to check our position. At 2:00 a.m., a supply boat came into the anchorage and anchored rather skillfully in the middle of the four sailboats.
On Wednesday morning, the winds had calmed down a bit. We put the dinghy in the water and went to shore. We then walked over to a neighboring village, where the Canoe Race festival was to begin at 8:00 a.m. with an opening ceremony. We talked to various men about the villages and the festival. And we met the crews of the other three boats in the anchorage.
It appeared as though the festival was designed for the benefit of tourists, but we eight cruisers were the only attendees. All morning, we waited while they set up the outdoor stage and got themselves organized. In the late morning, they had us walk a distance from the stage and wait. Then they had us participate in a procession that led to the stage, where we sat with the officials. The villagers milled around while a pastor gave a sermon and a lady from the district tourism office gave a speech, and chastised the villagers for being so unprepared for the event.
After the opening event, we went with Kalo, who owns the Malog Bungalows. He hosted the cruisers for lunch at his place. Following lunch, we saw a demonstration of a wooden dugout canoe being made from a tree that the cruisers helped fell. Then we waited for another long spell until the tide came up enough for the canoe races to begin.
Building a Dugout canoe
The preparation for the races was chaotic and confused. There were multiple opinions about how to conduct the races and what the course was. Finally, they ran the three races, improving on the course setup after each race. The first race included 3 men in separate boats. The winner was in the best boat and seemed like a strong paddler. The runnerup was an older man with a lot of persistence. The third-place finisher was a younger man who seemed handicapped by a small boat. The second race was two boats with two girls in each boat. The race was hotly contested. The race was called for the two older girls but I would have called it a tie. The final race was three boats with three young boys in each boat. The first two finishers were quite close, but the last boat didn’t manage to finish. They were in that same same small boat that lost the first race, and they ended up in the water before arriving at the finish line.
The Girls’ Race
The great thing about these races is that it didn’t matter whether we were there. Everyone in the village was there watching and shouting. The zillions of little kids were having a great time watching from shore.
Jeff and I hurried back to the boat as soon as the races were over. I’m sure that there were other activities but I was worried about the battery voltage (unnecessarily). And, it had been a long day of sitting around waiting for things to happen.
On Thursday, the other three boats left the anchorage in the morning. We relocated Aldabra to the center of the bay, keeping us far away from the surrounding reefs. Then we took the dinghy to shore and walked back to the village hosting the festival. As we suspected, none of the morning activities took place because they really didn’t have any tourists to participate. One man told us that the program would resume in the afternoon. We told him that we would probably wait to come back the following day. Then we gave ourselves a tour of the island by walking around it on a path that led through old coconut plantations and the three villages. We ended up back at our dinghy and returned to the boat for the afternoon.
On Friday morning, we went back to shore and Philip, who organized our dugong trip, walked with us to the hosting village. We went first to the Malog Bungalows and talked with various people. The Kustom dancing was supposed to start at 9:30 a.m., but it kept getting delayed. Late in morning, we walked over to the showgrounds. While still waiting for the dancers, we saw demonstrations of sand art and of something akin to cat’s cradle. Finally the Kustom dancers from Lamap performed and they were great.
Creating Sand Art
Talent
Kustom Dancers from Lamap
After the dancing, we went back to the Malog Bungalows for lunch and then hung out there waiting for the next activity. Jeff went for a walk and I just talked to the different organizers. Later we went back to the showgrounds and saw a demonstration on building a fire and an acrobatic performance. I bought a bat carving from Pule, who lives in the village with his family but is actually a chief from Ambryn, who performs black magic. We waited until 4:00 p.m. for more dancing and more canoe races, but finally gave up and went back to the boat.
On Saturday morning, we moved Aldabra over to a nearby anchored behind Awei Island. We anchored in front of a tiny, one-family village with a lot of very happy, frolicking children. Their chief, Sofren, paddled by to say hello. We filled the diesel tank and did a few chores in preparation for sailing back to Port Vila. Jeff scrubbed the boat bottom and I chipped in a bit.
On Sunday, a little before 5:00 p.m., we pulled up the anchor and headed out of the pass and south toward the island of Efate, to Port Vila. We sailed upwind for most of the night, but we weren’t able to point high enough to reach Efate. At about 1:00 a.m., we had to furl in the jib and motor sail for a few hours so we could head toward the island. Around 6:00 a.m., we rounded the island and headed into Port Vila harbor, arriving around 8:00 a.m. We picked up a mooring ball to ready the boat to back into a mooring on the seawall. As soon as we were ready, a marina worker guided us in and we got ourselves settled.
