Notes from several small islands: Part I - The Fallow Ships of Di-ving (say it quickly and you'll get it)

We started our exotic holiday with a night in a very non-exotic Ibis hotel near Auckland airport, which housed a surprisingly acceptable restaurant serving dangerously drinkable alcoholic ginger beer. Next morning saw us on a plane to Port Vila, Dora’s previous home for three years but a leap into the unknown for me (or at least into a moderately remote tourist hotspot). 

Upon arrival we negotiated a quick return trip to some snorkelling on Hideaway Island, to make the most of the two hours before our onwards flight to the Island of Espiritu Santo. Our newly-purchased diving masks made this a great experience, despite Dora’s snorkel's habit of taking in water instead of air. Shooting back for our domestic flight, we boarded a disappointingly large propeller aircraft and arrived in Luganville around nightfall.

Tips for getting a taxi from Luganville airport: 1) ignore the official transport options at the airport; 2) wander around in the dark for a bit and 3) get a much cheaper taxi from Charlie, the President of the local taxi association, and get his phone number for some ad hoc tours later in the week. 

We were deposited for dinner at ‘Mamas’, somewhere that looked very ‘local’, where dinner is served to order through various hatches by wise old Ni-Vantuatu ladies. We were therefore very disappointed to be immediately joined by pretty much all the tourists, gap year students and volunteering do-gooders in town, although the value and quantity of the food more than made up for this. We decided to walk off our dinner by heading to our accommodation on foot, only to get slightly lost and picked up by a kindly 'Roderick' who drove us to the door of Coral Quays resort. Apparently we’d been wandering through some marijuana-infested badlands, which explained the disinterested/stoned glances we received from the youths who we’d been cheerfully wishing ‘good evening’.

Breakfast was held on a veranda with great views over the flower garden (a must-have for Dora-booked accommodation) before we were whisked away to dive the SS Coolridge, a US WWII troop carrier that tragicomically sank after running into a US mine, but conveniently beached itself and tipped over in a very accessible location. A little unsure of our diving skills after many years of non-practice, we nevertheless nodded confidently at the instructions that Tom – our guide – gave us, in an attempt to convince him of our credentials. Our first wreck dive was a great experience, particularly when we popped into the cargo hold to see what darkness looked like. [Dora: We also saw a Lionfish!] Once we’d emerged and snacked Tom told us stories about his worst dive guiding experiences, which we saw as a signal of confidence in our abilities.

The beach by M$P. Imagine this with a hundred times
more machinery, and vertical, and underwater, and with fish.
We'll get an underwater camera next time.

The second dive was also very wrecky. Million Dollar point is named after the value of machinery and equipment US forces drove into the sea at the end of WWII, when the colonial administrators of Vanuatu proved unwilling to pay a fair price to purchase them for the island. Again, this tragedy had a silver lining, as we dived amongst cranes, diggers and trucks that now house many a sea creature. A highlight of the dive was shooting through the insides of a sunken boat and feeling like heroic explorers, and seeing a cuttlefish. A lowlight was when I tried to turn a steering wheel and it broke and fell to the sea floor, kicking up lots of dust and leaving me with little visibility in quite a confined space surrounded by lots of sharp metal. I nipped out quickly enough and nonchalantly caught up with Dora and Tom, who remained blissfully unaware of my escapades; however, in my excitement I’d managed to consume most of air my air, so was forced to borrow Tom’s on the return journey.

As we headed back to Coral Quays the weather seemed to turn, so Dora and I did the sensible thing and tried to kayak down the coast. This was quickly abandoned when waves started swamping our vessel, so we spent a relaxed afternoon reading and limbering up for the 2-inch thick steak we'd eyed up for dinner.

On Monday morning our Millenium Cave hike-caving-swimming experience also had to be abandoned because of the weather, so we headed instead to some reef dives with an American called Bill. After a wobbly start where Bill unexpectedly fell out of the boat trying to put a fin on, we dropped to 12m to view the coral garden expanse. I spent most of my time practicing underwater somersaults, but an authoritative source tells me the highlights included a swarm of Barracuda, a nudibranch, pufferfish, clownfish and a huge clam. Some flying fish accompanied the boat on our way back, possibly confused the limits of their natural habitat given the amount of rain in the sky. 




On Tuesday Charlie took us on the promised trip to one of the famous 'Blue Holes' (via a hospital to check on a former colleague of Dora's family friends). These are crystalline fresh water pools located in dense tropical forest. Whilst Charlie was a little opaque regarding how they were formed ("the rain" *shrugs*) I'm 99% sure the ladder and rope swing is a man-made addition. I braved it first, overcoming any nervousness immediately upon discovering a millipede near my foot. Dora kindly dived into the depths to recover my mask in the subsequent splashy chaos. 

Our Paw Paw, Coconut Cream and
Pineapple Juice Smoothie ©

Returning to the airport, we found that our plane had developed a fault and would be seven hours late. We re-enlisted Charlie's services and headed out to the island resort of Aore with the American Bill and his wife, Sophie. There we spent the afternoon inventing smoothies, eating pizza and snorkelling amongst some very angry white fish. 

In Part II: Exploring Port Vila and peering down an active volcano!