Three days out of Port Vila now and venturing in the magical islands of North Vanuatu, home to sorcerers, dancers and master carvers. The crew, predicably, has gone troppo. Our crew list now boasts Ginger – that leggy, glamorous movie star; Luvvie – that fabulously wealthy, society hostess with the mostest; and Mary Anne – cute as a button, all pigtails and giggles. Go figure.
To Ambrym we go – a foreboding sight from first glance, twin volcanoes shrouded in cloud and mist. Finally, at dusk we anchored near a large ketch in a sheltered bay of black sand. Without warning, the ketch upped anchor and headed off into the night. Why? Perhaps the bright glow from the volcano, lighting up the night sky? Ginger, in wide-eyed horror, regaled famous horror movie plots into the shadowy night.
First light, Berry – Ranon village’s resident entrepreneur – sidled up in his dugout for a friendly chat. It turns out Berry can offer everything from a short garden tour to an overnight trip up the volcano or a Rom dance, complete with exotic masks and penis sheaths, by all accounts. Enticed, we headed ashore for more. Berry, like most men in Ranon, has family roots extending back many generations of living in this village of volcanic paradise. Life is simple and ordered here – each family has their own cooking house, sleeping house, outhouse and market garden. Wealth is measured in pigs; the only concession to the 21C is mobile phones and the occasional solar panel.
Mary Anne, sweet young thing, blushed at the thought of a Rom dance with all those thrusting gents, so the crew jumped when Berry casually mentioned that Vanuatu’s Minister of Education was about to arrive (first time in 26 years….) to visit and address the school. And would we like to join?
Within moments, we found ourselves seated on trestles surrounded by giggling school kids. Meanwhile, Berry (who, it turns out, is also the chairman of the school council…) had miraculously found himself a collared shirt, new jeans and some shoes, ready to meet The Minister (picture an overweight African drug lord, complete with sunnies), his wife and other eminent people. Now, it might surprise some, but it turns out that Vanuatu Cabinet Ministers, like cabinet ministers the world over, like the sound of their own voice. This one could even laugh at his own jokes. Alone.
Meanwhile, various members of the school council took turns to make short speeches on the dire state of the school, the need for more rooms, more teachers, more equipment. We may not have understood all the words, but the sentiment was clear, and Ginger had a brainwave: let’s donate the electronic keyboard!
So picture this: as we walk back with the keyboard, we find the entire school council waiting. They whisk us into a nearby hut, and Ginger gives them a quick demo. Hoots of laughter and sheer delight. One of the teachers edges in, presses all the buttons and starts punching out jazz. More hoots, and not a dry eye in the house. The headmaster finally gained control long enough to orchestrate a formal handing over ceremony and a lovely speech. It turns out that one of the requests they had made to the Minister was for a keyboard – something we’d not picked up….
As we walked away from the school, the keyboard cranked up again. More hoots of laughter. Perhaps the Ambrym spirits have done their work?
The headmaster has presented us with a traditional woodcarving – we call him Rom. He is now on the crew list, and just getting his sea legs. Ginger is spooked by him, and seems obsessed with a certain episode of the Brady Bunch with ‘voodoos and stuff’. Disturbingly, other crew members have taken to chatting with Rom, and stroking him intimately.