The Western Pacific - Pacific Crossing Notes: A Sailor's Guide to the Coconut Milk Run - page 390

Island-Hopping Northward
Senses stuffed with rich impressions, we left Tanna for an overnight sail to the next island,
getting spectacular night views of Mount Yasur in action. A crescent moon lay slumbering
on its side as we crossed the line of 19° south latitude on our northwest course. Sailing
along the windward coast of Tanna was slow and easy, with both wind and seas picking up
as we broke into the open channel between islands. A sloppy swell seemed to dominate
open water in this part of the Pacific, as it had on the entire passage over from Fiji.
Erromango, to our sensory-satiated relief, was a delightfully subdued experience. Though
Dillon Bay was a bit rolly, we enjoyed several days there. They don't get a lot of cruisers,
but we were warmly greeted by two different villagers in dugout canoes. One, Donald,
seemed purely interested in a little outside contact. The other, David, hopes to set up a
yacht club on shore - a modest cruiser's hangout that would attract more boats if his long-
range plan succeeds. It was a delight to make their acquaintance and we feasted on the
fresh fruit they gave us for days.
Rather than slopping water to Namani to do laundry, we joined local women at the river for
a washing spree. It turned out to be a delightful experience in which clean sheets were but a
minor perk. The real joy was sitting on boulders among locals, our faces warmed by the
sun, feet cooled by the water. The women whispered and giggled at our amateurish tech-
nique, then carried on. For a short time, we were just part of the gang. With thousands of
gallons of fresh water rushing through our little eddy, our laundry has never been so clean.
Our minds, too, were clearer for the experience, remembering that the majority of the
world's population does not freshen their clothing with the press of a button. Yet another
life lesson - and memorable experience - among many gained throughout a Pacific cross-
ing.
One of our strangest Vanuatu experiences followed that evening, when we made a bonfire
on the rocky beach to celebrate the eighth birthday of a cruising buddy. Out of the dark
night came five men who peered at us from the shadows. Criminals? Cannibals, even? No,
they were just five wetsuit-clad locals, drawn to the light between night dives for lobster.
They seemed as fascinated by us and our rituals as we were by theirs, especially when the
guitar came out for a few of the kids' favorites. Our new friends sang along to tunes famili-
ar to all of us, including Frère Jacques and Old McDonald. Sitting under the moon by a
bonfire singing E-I-E-I-O with a couple of burly Melanesians qualifies as one of the more
surreal - and somehow touching - experiences of our three-year Pacific cruise. Lesson 4: