"Nobody ever comes to Lord Howe, or Ontong-Java as it is sometimes called. Thomas Cook & Son do not sell tickets to it, and tourists do not dream of its existence."    

Jack London

Vanuatu

Since I first planned my trip across the Pacific, I have been intrigued by the reports I have heard about Vanuatu: few yachts, fewer tourists, and warm people living traditional lives. And once beyond Vanuatu, there are several "forgotten" atolls, inhabited by Polynesians, that are even less frequented. In particular, Ontong Java had captured my interest. What was true in Jack London's day was still true today: no one even dreams of its existence.

I spend 6 weeks installing a new engine in Fellow Traveler in Fiji, and lost time I had hoped to spend exploring Vanuatu. Still, I enjoyed my cruise through these islands, for once out of the two primary towns of Port Vila or Luganville, it is as if one has returned in time to Captain Cook's era, as there is no sign of development. Typically, even anchored a few 100 yards off the shore, there is not even a visual clue of the village hidden in the trees other than the smoke from the cooking fires. I visited a number of islands and anchorages, meeting a variety of headmen (and the gay son of one), visited Nasaras ("custom" dance and meeting grounds) complete with the huge carved log tom-toms, traded for endless mangos and papayas, and otherwise enjoyed my stops. But, one place stands out as very unique and special for me: Ureparapara.

Ureparapara is nothing more than an old vocano crater that projects steeply above the sea. The NE side of the crater blew out, providing a natural harbor inside the crater, surrounded by an amphitheater of lush, jungle mountains that rise up to knife-edge ridges.  My anchor was not even down yet before a young man from the village came out to show me a better spot to anchor than that listed in the guide. Over the next few days, I easily fell under the spell of this enchanted paradise. My time was spent in such diverse activities as drinking kava with the local Anglican Priest (who hails from the nearby island of Mota Lava), listening to a "choir" made up of an old couple and various of their children and grandchildren, as they sang Christmas carols in  intricate harmony in their native language, and cavorting with the local teens (still unable to act my age) who had just started their Christmas break from school.

I was told that about 16 boats a year stop in Ureparapara, and none had ever stopped in December before. The locals welcome the yachts, as it gives them a chance to trade their abundance of fruit and vegetables for small items that are otherwise unobtainable or expensive to them, such as flashlight batteries, 12 volt lights, or some assistance repairing a simple electrical device they use on their simple solar systems.

If not for the cyclone season already a month old, and commitments 3000 miles away in the Philippines, I would have loved to have stayed in this paradise for a month, getting to know the people and sharing in the simple joys of their lives. Instead, I had to settle for a few days, and then pointed my bow NE.

Ontong Java

My route is not listed in Jimmy Cornell's fine guide to the Cruising Routes of the World. However, there is a certain logic to it. As cyclone season develops, a low trough over the main islands of Papua New Guinea (PNG) and the Solomons deepens. The gribs often show E- NE winds coming well South of the equator out to the East of this trough, whereas the usual route through the Solomons involves land effects from the large islands, a trip right through the middle of the trough ("home base" of the SPCZ), followed by sometimes squally conditions from the NW. I hoped to avoid all of this, and make my fuel last until Palau. This route kept me out to sea, where I could rest without fear of running into an island, Firstas once past the Santa Cruz, the far Easternmost of the Solomon's, there are few to be found. And, the few that were here were of interest to me: these remote atolls are inhabited by a group of Polynesians who have followed the trades West from the center of Polynesia. The inhabitants are known to be very friendly and welcoming, yet few ever stop. My search of the internet turned up almost no navigational information on these remote atolls, and few records of anyone having stopped in a cruising boat.

The first island did not offer much to tempt me to stop, although if it had been calm and I was near, I would have attempted to: Sikaiana is a small atoll with no entrance into the lagoon, and no reported anchorage available. When Bill Robinson, in Varua, visited in the 1950's, the ship stood off with crew while some made the trip in via local boats: not an option for a single-hander! But, as the winds had been light and easterly, my course ended up 100 miles to the East of this small speck in the sea. Unless winds filled in, allowing me to ease the sheets a bit, I might not get to visit any of these forgotten Polynesian atolls. But, a few days later, the breeze cooperated, and my course lined up with the largest of this group, Ontong Java. As well, a bout of the flu contracted in Ureparapara, had me very exhausted and in need of a couple of nights uninterrupted sleep. So, on the Sunday morning of December 12th,  I navigated one of the Southern passes near the main island of Luaniua and anchored in the shelter of the lagoon.

It was not long before a number of canoes had come out to visit.  I learned that I was the only yacht to visit the atoll that year. Accounts varied as to how often yachts stopped, ranging from 2 to 4 years. Clearly, I was off the "beaten path". I soon begged their pardon, but pleaded the need to sleep. I said I would visit the chief later that day to arrange permission for my visit.

Following a several hour nap, I launched my dinghy and visited the village, where I asked for Chief Willy. Meeting with him and the former representative to the provincial government in Malaita, I was told that my "emergency stop" due to illness was acceptable to them, but that Malaita had instituted certain fees for visiting Ontong Java of $500 Solomon Island currency. In lieu of the money, they would accept gifts. So, the next morning, I again visited the village, bearing a backpack with extra bags of rice, dried beans, some long-life milk, and some juice. No one knew the exchange rate for Solomon Island dollars, but I offered $20 US as well for the anchoring fee. This seemed acceptable to the council of chiefs. All were polite, and I was made welcome during my short stay.

My illness was no ruse, I truly was sick with the flu, and spend a lot of my time resting and sleeping. I did enjoy walking along the beach in front of the village, the social center for the community. Being only 5 degrees below the equator and the start of the Southern Hemisphere summer, it could get quite sweltering during the middle of the day. So, people relaxed in the calm shallows of the lagoon to play, converse, and stay cool. When on my boat, I frequently had visitors, mostly hoping to trade drinking coconuts (the only thing in abundance) for DVD's or CD's, as many had acquired portable devices. Unfortunately, being a coral atoll, Luaniua lacked the  papaya and mango found on the higher islands. I also saw no signs of traditional crafts to trade for.

After a few days of rest and meeting some of the locals, I once again needed to head on for Palau and the Philippines. My route took me along the lee of the Southern side of the Atoll, where most of the islands are located, and Ontong Java does not lack in the beauty needed to be a tropical paradise. I personally find it comforting to know that there are still such places, unknown to the cruise ships, Club Meds, and even the great majority of cruising yachts, who mostly seem content to crowd the anchorages of Fiji or the Eastern Caribbean. I had only two regrets in my visit to Vanuatu and Ontong Java: that I lacked time to more thoroughly explore these islands, and that I lacked a companion to share these paradises with.

Yap

The logic to my route, mentioned earlier, broke down at the equator. The information I had led me to believe that, by December, if I could get to the equator, I would have light trade winds from the NE, and once past 5 degrees N, the NE trades would be solid and steady. Instead, I found calms just before the equator, and spent the next two weeks drifting, playing the winds in the occasional squalls, using jib and main stretched out tight to ghost downwind without the sails flogging. Finally, I got to within motoring distance of Yap with the fuel I had remaining. I had intended to stop at Palau, but since it was still out of motoring range, Yap it was!

I had some concerns about clearing into Yap: Micronesia officially requires you to apply in advance for a cruising permit. I had no info on Yap, but stories I had read recently about Chuuk implied the officials were not very efficient or polite. As it turned out, none of these were valid concerns in Yap. The authorities were friendly, polite, and efficient in all of my dealings with them. They, and everyone else I encountered, made me feel welcome on Yap.

Yap is most famous for its stone money: huge disks that were made in Palau and hauled to Yap on outrigger  rafts pulled by outrigger canoes. Even today, this money is still valued, and used in marriages, ceremonies, et cetera. The picture above is of a piece of the stone money. The picture to the right is a path, paved with stones, going through a ceremonial area.

Once nice factor in stopping in Yap (or Palau) is the postal service is still run by the US Post, so you can have items shipped in via priority mail inexpensively. Since my windlass selenoid had burned out, this was a good place to order that. Thus, I ended up spending about two weeks in Yap. I did some hiking, a little snorkeling near the entrance to the harbor, cleaned the boat, and otherwise just relaxed. To be perfectly honest, by this time, I was tired of the constant new islands to explore, and was just eager get this trip done with! So, once my packages arrived, I once again hoisted anchor, but this time for the final leg of my Pacific crossing. Next stop: the Philippines!