February 6 found us anchored within sight of beautiful Kaibola Beach on Kiriwina Island.  It has a small pier for tender boats but beyond that it is mostly white sand, very clear water and dense forest.  No town was in sight and no tours or excursions of any kind were on offer.  Notably, an Australian couple who had lived here for several years were among the lecturers on board but for some reason HAL did not have them do a presentation about this island.  We had breakfast with them in the morning before our visit and they were as puzzled about that as we were.  So without much information or assistance from the cruise line it was a matter of tendering in, then seeing what there was to see.

     Kiriwina is the largest of the Trobriand Islands, an archipelago that is within the Milne Bay Province of New Guinea, the capital of which is Alotau which we visited yesterday.  Most of the 60,000 or so people (estimates vary widely) living on the Trobriand Islands are on Kiriwina.  The first European visit to the Trobriands was in 1793, when the islands were named after an officer on that French ship.  The first European settled here in 1894 and before World War I the Australians had established a government facility.  The Trobriands became much better known to the outside world during the 1920’s through the publications of anthropologist Bronislaw Malinowski, who lived here and studied the unusual culture during World War I. 

     We tendered to the island in mid-morning.  The word clearly was out among the islanders that a cruise ship would be there because the dirt roads in the area were lined with hundreds of vendors displaying their wares (mostly wood carvings and clothing), usually on a mat or blanket on the ground.  Some had children dressed in traditional attire who posed for photographs.  Other children were jumping off the tender pier as we walked past them.  The Trobriands are known for elaborate wood carving and there were many examples on display but most of the designs were similar from vendor to vendor so it was difficult for a visitor (or at least these visitors) to tell which were authentic items made by islanders and which (if any) were imported from elsewhere (most likely China).  The items we liked best were too big to take home on a plane from San Diego and we did not have any local currency, which is strongly preferred, so we ended up looking but not buying.  We have read that some visitors have found vendors here to be aggressive but we did not.  We understand that many of the local people one meets here on cruise ship days come from neighboring villages and even neighboring islands.

     We walked through a thatched hut village not far from the pier.  It looked real enough and probably was representative of how many people on this island live.  But we didn’t see anybody acting like they lived there, so it could be a demonstration village rather than a living one.  If so, it was still interesting.

     The main attraction here, however, was undoubtedly the beach.  The ocean water was extremely clear and the bottom was always clearly visible.  There were a number of young men with boats on or near the shore who were probably there in the hope of finding a paying passenger to take out on the water or perhaps to a village in the area.  It looked enticing but kind of uncertain and again, we had no local currency anyway.  Many trees were growing right by the beach, which was a great respite from the very hot sun.

     After two or three hours we were done in by the heat and humidity so we walked back to the tender pier and returned to the Zaandam.  As this was our last island visit in the first part of this voyage we sailed away this evening toward Australia.

     On February 5 we were in Alotau on the point of the New Guinea Peninsula, the easternmost spot on the island of New Guinea.  The town was established in 1968 to serve as the administrative capital of Milne Bay Province.  Today its population is around 15,000.  Our excursion left later in the morning so we went up to the top deck to see what the area looked like.  It was mountainous with a green tropical ambiance.

     AS we left the ship for the excursion a dance group was performing on the dock.  It is always fun & interesting when this happens.

     Our first stop was on a hill at a spot where a number of vendors were gathered, along with some folks dressed in traditional indigenous attire.  This might have been a place called the Top Town Lookout, which certainly offers a great view of the town, Milne Bay and the mountains beyond (and on this day the Zaandam).  People were friendly and the traditional clothing was very striking.  Our guide, Rhoda, explained to us that under the matrilineal societal structure here men must have permission from the female head of the family for any financial or land transactions.

     Back in the town we visited the main market, a large covered but open-air space full of small scale vendors selling fish, produce and handicrafts.  Many local people were shopping here and we understand it is a place for community interaction as well as commerce.  We were told that most people in this area shop daily for fresh produce.

     After this we were taken to a an open air performance facility that appeared to be part of a village in the woods.  As we understood it, this place is owned by the man who introduced the dancers, explained the demonstrations of village life and generally acted as master of ceremonies.  He spoke very good English and clearly was experienced at doing this sort of thing.  We were greeted on the path from the bus drop off to the performance building by local people in indigenous dress (probably most were dancers).  They lined the path on both sides and were very welcoming.

     We all sat on two rows of benches around a large dirt dance floor.  It was a very hot day so we were glad that this building had a roof for shade and open sides to permit air movement.  There were several dances that went on for awhile.  We understand that many, if not all, of the dancers had come from other villages and perhaps islands.  The dancing was quite interesting and the dancers were very good.  Men and women participated in the dancing, including some that looked quite young, and the men played drums that appeared to be hand made.

     After the dancing there was a lecture and discussion about the main vegetables in their  diet, including taro, tapioca, pumpkin, banana, papaya, watermelon, sago and cassava.  There was a demonstration of how they open coconuts to get pulp and water and we were shown how they use the outside husk to start fires with friction.  After that we were all invited onto a stage that was built on one side of the dance arena where a variety of local foods was arrayed on several tables for us to sample, buffet style.  The food (especially the fresh fruit) was really tasty.

      After the food demonstration we had time to walk around outside where there was a large display of interesting crafts with the craftspeople there to explain how they were made and to answer questions.  We talked to the man who made an outrigger canoe on display and to a woman who told us about the large war canoe.  We also saw a demonstration about creating sago, a starchy substance extracted from the center of a particular palm tree and used in a variety of dishes in this part of New Guinea.

     We returned to the performance building for another set of dances, then returned to the bus to head back toward the dock.  Many of the local folks were around as we walked back, some still dressed in traditional attire.  One was walking a pig in a rope harness.

     In 1942, about 25 years before Alotau was founded, this was an area of plantations and small villages.  The Japanese were sweeping into the area in this early part of World War II.  In New Guinea they had captured Rabaul and were targeting Port Moseby.  In May and June the Allies built two air strips here at Milne Bay near where Alotau now stands.  The Japanese discovered this in early August and decided to attack.  After a delay to respond to the US invasion of Guadalcanal on August 7, they sent in a small force of less than 1,000 (later reinforced by more than 900) to take the airfield under the mistaken impression that few Allied troops were here to defend. The Allies, in contrast, were well aware of Japanese plans because they had broken the Japanese military code.  The fighting here lasted almost two weeks from the Japanese landing beginning August 25 to their withdrawal September 7.  About a third of the Japanese invasion force and about half as many Australians were killed.

    This was the first time the Japanese army had been defeated in battle on land and forced to withdraw.  It stopped the Japanese from expanding their perimeter further toward Australia, but perhaps its most important result was a big lift for Allied morale by demonstrating that the Japanese could be stopped and defeated.  Along with the American victory a few months later forcing the Japanese to withdraw from Guadalcanal this gave the Allies new confidence that momentum in the Pacific was turning their way.

     On our way back to the ship we passed several thatched roof structures in the woods between the road and the bay, but we don’t know their purpose.  We stopped once, to visit a memorial to the battle of Milne Bay built on the waterfront in 2002 by the Australians.  Several other war memorials can be seen in this area but this is the only one we visited.  It says “In remembrance of those Australians, Papua New Guineans and their Allies who fought and died in the battle of Milne Bay 1942.”  The locals have a term for white people, especially visitors:  Dim-dim.  We had previously read that this is considered descriptive and not derogatory.  While we were visiting the memorial a boy tapped Mary on the shoulder and said “dim-dim."  He may have expected that to stump her,and was probably disappointed by her lack of reaction.

     That was the extent of our day in Alotau.  We would have one more stop in New Guinea the next day.

      We reached Rabaul on February 3 after one sea day, the first of three stops in Papua New Guinea.  People have lived in New Guinea for 40 or 50,000 years.  New Guinea is the second largest island in the world (not counting continents), but it only became an island about 10,000 years ago when its land connection to Australia disappeared under the Torres Strait.  The first Europeans visited New Guinea in the early 16th century and Christian missionaries arrived in the mid-19th century.  The western half of the island, now part of Indonesia, was annexed by the Netherlands in 1848 and the eastern half that is now Papua New Guinea was divided in 1884 between Germany in the north and the United Kingdom in the south.  By 1906 the British portion had become part of Australia and  the Australians gained control of the German portion as well during World War I.  Papua New Guinea became an independent nation in 1975.

     The population of Papua New Guinea is around 11 or 12 million, of whom about 40% live in small villages in the interior highlands.  Many of these villages have their own language so that there are more than 840 languages spoken in this country, some limited to perhaps 100 people in a single isolated village.  A pidgin tongue called “Tok Pisin” (meaning “talk pidgin”) is used throughout the country.  It was not until the 1930’s that much of the interior highlands were contacted by the outside world and there are still villages in some areas that reportedly haven’t been contacted.

     Rabaul actually is not located on the main island of New Guinea.  Instead it is on the eastern end of the island of New Britain, the largest island in the Bismarck Archipelago.  As you might guess from the name of the archipelago, New Britain was in the German portion of New Guinea before World War I, when the island was called New Pomerania.  Rabaul was founded by the Germans in 1910 to be their colonial headquarters and continued as the capital of the Australian mandate over the former German colony until 1941.  Rabaul’s urban population today is between 4,000 and 6,000.

     Rabaul sits in Simpson Harbor in the middle of a very large and beautiful bay, which is actually the caldera of what appears to have been a very large ancient volcano.  Three volcanoes sit on the corners of the bay as it opens into the ocean and Rabaul has been all but destroyed twice by eruptions in 1937 and 1994.  The first one killed more than 500 people and the Australians then administering the territory decided to move the capital to a different city, but they had not done so yet when the Japanese occupied the territory in 1941.  Evacuation plans were developed during the 1980’s which paid off in 1994 when the same two volcanoes, Tavurvur and Vulcan, erupted again.  Only 5 people were killed even though there was less than a day of warning.  However the tremendous amount of ash that fell on the city, which absorbed rainfall and became very heavy, destroyed most of the city as about 80% of the buildings collapsed.  The capital of the province was moved to Kokopo, about 12 miles further from these volcanoes, and even today the population is only about a third of the 17,000+ who lived in Rabaul just before the eruption.

     We spent the day on a small private excursion.  Boarding the van in the morning we drove west.  Once outside the central city the roads were very bumpy and uneven, mostly dirt (or really mud on this day).   In several places gangs of men were repairing roads (and buildings) by hand, and there were few structures to be seen.  We were headed for Matupit Island and an indigenous village there where our guide and our driver both lived and grew up.  We think these were of the Tolai people, a matrilineal culture who are the dominant indigenous group in this area and who are thought to have migrated here from another island.  Matupit was a separate island in fact as well as in name until 1994, when material from the big eruption filled the small gap between Matupit and New Britain islands so that now the road to the island is all land.  The jungle has regrown  to such an extent that we would not even have noticed the division of the land if our guide, Dora, had not stopped us and pointed it out.  Dora was 19 years old and living on Matupit at the time of the 1994 eruption and her stories of that time were quite interesting.

     When we reached the village there was time to look around as we waited for other tour groups to arrive for a dance performance.  We saw a display of the village’s handicrafts and were treated to some delicious fruit (watermelon, papaya, pineapple).  There was an interesting hut made, it appeared, from mats of woven palm fronds with a grass or straw roof.  We also noticed a pipe on the end of the roof of a building, apparently directing rainwater into large vats.  And we enjoyed some nice flowers growing in the area.

     After the other buses arrived we were led to an open field with a wood and palm grandstand and listened to a presentation from a village elder about the village and its people and about the dances we were about to see.  Tourism is a vital source of income in this area and there was no doubt that they were used to having visitors like us on a regular basis.  But that doesn’t necessarily mean that people don’t actually live here or that the culture on view was not authentic.  We saw several dance performances, one a whip dance in which a dancer is repeatedly whipped by others with long canes from some plant, and a couple of dances performed mostly by younger boys who seemed to be in training. 

     From the village we drove to a beach with a view of the volcanoes across the water.  A number of vendors had set out brightly colored cloth and clothing for sale.  Some were also selling carvings made of volcanic lava rock.

     We walked a little way past the vendors and came to the hot springs.  This stream runs into the bay at the foot of the Mt Tavurvur volcano.  It is heated by geothermal vents in the mountain and, at least when we were there, was putting off a good amount of steam.  We were warned it was too hot to touch safely but we wouldn’t have tried anyway.

     We drove next to the old New Guinea Club, established in 1919 as a social club for the European administrators and plantation owners.  This was where the small Australian military outpost gathered on January 20, 1942 for the impossible task of defending the area from the overwhelming Japanese air, sea and land forces bearing down on it.   Just before setting out to fight the commander radioed to Melbourne “Nos Morituri Te Salutamus” (we who are about to die salute you), a phrase associated  (possibly incorrectly) with Roman gladiators entering the arena.  

     The building was partially rebuilt after being destroyed by Allied bombing during World War II and today serves as a museum, holding a variety of interesting artifacts from Rabaul’s history.  The eclectic collection includes everything from tribal masks to parts of a Japanese Zero shot down during the war.  The collection was interesting but filled the small museum rather haphazardly, seeming more like an attic than a museum.  In front is a ruined Japanese light tank.

     Behind the museum is a World War II Japanese bunker.  This concrete bunker was the command post for anti-aircraft guns and spotlights in the region.  It is called Yamamoto’s Bunker, but it is questionable whether Admiral Yamamoto, the mastermind of Pearl Harbor and the commander of the Japanese fleet in the Pacific, ever stayed in it.  He was certainly in Rabaul in 1943 when it was among Japan’s most forward positions, but some think he stayed in another bunker not too far away.  In any event, US code breakers intercepted his itinerary for an April 18, 1943, flight from Rabaul to Bougainville and a squadron from Henderson Field on Guadalcanal shot down his plane.  This was a major loss for the Japanese.  The bunker was dark and had no handrails on the stairs, so it was difficult to safely negotiate the many steps.

     Our last visit was to a high ridge above the town of Rabaul, just uphill from the Rabaul Volcano Observatory.  The Observatory was opened after the devastating 1937 eruption in the hope that any future eruptions could be detected in time to avoid such loss of life.  Today it is responsible for monitoring 37 active and dormant volcanoes in Papua New Guinea.  This is the main observatory and there are four supplemental observatories near other volcanoes.  We were able to see the Observatory a little way down the hill but were not permitted to enter because this would disrupt its scientific work (there were quite a few visitors when we were there).  It was a stunning view from here over the town, the bay and the volcanoes.

    We returned to the ship after this last look over the whole area.  It had been a very interesting day and really there are still things left here that would be worth seeing.  But for now this was it as we sailed away through the bay to the ocean.

     February 1 found us in the harbor of Honiara, the capital of the Solomon Islands, located on this country’s biggest island, Guadalcanal.  Inhabited for thousands of years Guadalcanal was first visited by Europeans in 1568, during which a Spanish expedition named the island after an Andalusian village of the same name.  The first European settlers showed up in the 18th century and by 1899 the Solomons had become an undisputed British colony.  Tens of thousands of Solomon Islanders were forcibly taken to work in Australia during the 19th century by Blackbirding ships.  By the first half of the 20th century the Solomon Islands’ economy was based on large plantations owned by white settlers, many from Australia.

    The name Guadalcanal is known to westerners mostly because of its key role in World War II.  The six month battle for Guadalcanal during 1942 and 43 was the first offensive land victory by the Allies against the Japanese.  The Japanese had swept through Southeast Asia at the beginning of the war and for a while looked to be unstoppable.  But their occupation of Guadalcanal was as far as they would get.  The US decided to attack this island when it was learned that the Japanese were building an airfield here that would threaten Australia and the rest of the islands in this area and broaden the defensive perimeter for the Japanese gains in Southeast Asia.  This was the first of many amphibious landings on Pacific islands that brought allied air forces ever closer to Japan during the next years.

     It appears that the town of Honiara did not exist before World War II.  It grew after the war at the site of the wartime US military headquarters.  It  has been the capital of the Solomon Islands since 1952, apparently because the old capital, Tulagi, had been badly damaged during the war.  Its population is now about 130,000.

     Unfamiliar with this area, we were rather uncertain about what we would do here before the voyage began.  We wanted to see as much as we could of the battle sites from World War II but at the time we first looked (pretty early) HAL was only offering two excursions and both were already full.  There didn’t seem to be too much to see within walking distance so we put ourselves on a waitlist and crossed our fingers.  It took a while but a couple of places opened up on the excursion that looked best to us and it turned out to visit many of the main battle locations, so we were happy about that (although the mostly silent guide was another story).  We climbed on the small bus (of which there were several) and headed out onto the main road.  But on our way to the bus we passed an interesting music and dance performance by a local group on the dock. 

     Our first stop was the airport, opened in 1969 on the site of the runway the Japanese were constructing that was the main objective of the invasion of Guadalcanal.  Construction began in early July 1942 and was reported to the Allied military by coast watchers, private individuals who stayed hidden near the coast of occupied islands, often behind enemy lines, to radio intelligence to the Allies about  Japanese activities.  Local indigenous men supporting this activity were called “scouts,” two of whom were instrumental in the rescue of most of the crew of PT 109, the boat commanded by John F. Kennedy, after it sank in these waters during 1943 after being rammed by a Japanese destroyer.  On our way out of the port we passed a monument to the coast watchers and scouts, many of whom did not survive the war. 

     The Allied effort was developed very quickly and the American landings began on August 7, which turned out to be the day after the Japanese celebrated nearing the completion of the runway construction.  The American Marines quickly completed the runway so the first Allied airplane could land just five days later on August 12.  The Japanese made repeated efforts to retake the field but to no avail.  Possession of the only airfield on the island was crucial to the battle, for it enabled the Allies to reinforce and reprovision their troops and prevented the Japanese from doing the same. 

     The Americans named the airfield Henderson Field after the first American aviator killed during the battle of Midway.  It was abandoned after the war but was renovated and reopened in 1979 and renamed Honiara International Airport.  The inside of the airport looked . . . like an airport, although it did have some interesting decorations reflecting local art and culture.   Outside we passed an old anti-aircraft gun as we walked to the Memorial Garden.  This is a large grove of 500 trees, planted in straight rows like soldiers on parade, some with plaques, that honor the people who died during the Battle of Guadalcanal.  In the center are three large stones with plaques dedicated to the US Marines and others who fought in the Pacific war.

     Our next stop was at Red Beach, the site of the first US amphibious landing of World War II.  On our way there we drove along what we were told was the old Henderson Field runway built during World War II which is now part of the Honiara airport.  It has been upgraded and extended twice during the 80 years since the war.  While driving around Guadalcanal we passed many interesting markets and neighborhoods with typical local construction, mostly wooden and many looking somewhat less than sturdy.

     At Red Beach (a US military code name) we saw the site of the initial landing in Guadalcanal by the Marines on August 7, 1942.  To their surprise there was no Japanese resistance at all.  If the area looked then as it does today this was a very good thing because the beach was rather narrow and there was a steep hill to climb to progress beyond it.  Reports from coast watchers and US intelligence (which had broken the Japanese military code) indicated there were several thousand Japanese soldiers in the area but most of those turned out to be Korean laborers rather than soldiers.  They dispersed into the jungle to await the departure of what they thought were raiders, but the Marines were there to stay. 

     After landing the Marines found themselves in a precarious position because losses during a furious and destructive naval battle the next night led to withdrawal of the ships that were supposed to be landing more troops and supplies of food and ammunition.  Two days after landing the Marines captured the Japanese air field along with the food and provisions of the soldiers and construction crews there who dispersed into the jungle when they arrived.  Within a week of the landings the field was ready to receive airplanes.  Just in the nick of time too because even with the captured Japanese food they only had enough for another week, despite rations having been reduced to two meals a day. 

     On the hill above Red Beach is a small monument marking the Marine landings and also an old rusted Japanese anti-aircraft gun.  Nearby is a village whose people appeared to have been to church the we visited, a Sunday.  Some nicely dressed little girls circulated among the visitors selling flowers.  The area was full of beautiful flowers and other flora.

     The first Japanese attempt to recapture the air field took place two weeks after the initial landing, at a battle mistakenly named for the Tenaru River (it turned out to be Alligator Creek instead).  The overconfident Japanese unit was almost completely destroyed.  This area was called “Hell’s Point” because of all the Japanese bodies spread out over the beach.  Overlooking this battle was a Japanese ammunition dump which the Americans fortified and then used as their own fuel and ammunition dump.  In November of 1943 a grass fire ignited the ammunition dump causing a fire that raged for three days.  Today this area is still off limits to the public because it is thought to be full of unexploded ordnance.  We stopped at the entrance, but just for photos because you can’t go through the gate.  An old military vehicle is permanently left by this gate holding signs that say “Danger,” “Bombs” and also “Tabu,” which means forbidden in the indigenous Pacific languages (sometimes written “Kapu” or “Tapu” or “Taboo”).

     Henderson airfield continued to be the primary Japanese target on Guadalcanal.  The Americans had established an armed perimeter of Marines to protect it from further attempts by the Japanese to retake it.  Sure enough, about a month after the initial US landings the Japanese landed a force of about 6,000 soldiers transferred from Rabaul in New Guinea to retake the airfield, mistakenly believing there were only about 2,000 US Marines on the entire island.  Their intelligence was, however, faulty: there actually were more than 12,000 US troops at and near the airfield.

     The battle began when the Japanese attacked at about 11:30 PM on September 12 and over the ensuing two nights 830 Japanese and a little more than 100 Marines were killed.  The American troops were arrayed on and in front of a formidable ridge of very steep hills 80 to 120 feet high and the Japanese attacked generally from the South and East, somewhat weakened by days transiting the jungle and then crossing the Lunga River.  The Japanese charged several times up the hills and there was a good deal of hand to hand fighting, both below and on top of the ridge.  At one point a group of Japanese soldiers actually made it past the perimeter to a secondary runway at the air field but were stopped by Marine engineers stationed there as they tried to climb into US airplanes to destroy them. 

     The Marines defending the ridge were under the command of Colonel Merritt Edson, who was awarded a Congressional Medal of Honor, and ever afterward it has been known as Edson’s Ridge (also Bloody Ridge).  We visited both of the primary positions (Hill 80 and Hill 123) on this ridge and we can tell you we would not have wanted to be a soldier required to charge up those steep hills with enemy soldiers firing down at us.  The fighting didn’t end with this battle, of course.  But finally in February, 1943, it did end when the Japanese abandoned Guadalcanal and withdrew all their troops.

     On the top of the ridge we saw two memorials.  The first was a small white monument commemorating “The Guadalcanal War Dead” apparently placed in 1985 by a Japanese organization.  The other was a six foot tall US memorial to “THE BATTLE OF BLOODY RIDGE.”  It says “THIS MONUMENT IS DEDICATED TO ALL THE U.S. MARINE RAIDERS WHO SERVED ON GUADALCANAL AND IN THE SOLOMON ISLANDS.”  On the side panels is a summary of the battle.  The inscription is in gold on gray granite and the sun was behind the monument, so the inscription isn’t readable in the picture.  We also encountered a tiny bit of wildlife on top of the ridge.

     On August 7, 1992, the 50th anniversary of the landing at Red Beach, the United States dedicated a large memorial to the Americans and allies who were killed during the 6 months of the Guadalcanal campaign.  A memorial ceremony is held here every year on August 7.  The memorial is located on a hill just south of Honiara and its view extends to the harbor where our ship was docked and beyond into what is called Ironbottom Sound, the sea on this side of the island where more than 50 ships from both sides were sunk during the Guadalcanal campaign.  The memorial has a number of freestanding red marble walls, each of which points to where a battle was fought and contains an account of that battle. 

     The white star in the first picture just above marks the spot where the remains of an unknown Marine were found during the construction of the memorial.  He  was identified later as Sgt John Branic and he is now interred in Arlington National Cemetery.  There is a bronze plaque in the middle of the white star marking the spot where he was found.  This was our last stop on this excursion, which more than met our original expectations, so we drove back to the ship and sailed away before dinner.

     We anchored in the harbor off Port Vila on the morning of January 30.  Port Vila is the capital and largest city (population almost 50,000) in the Republic of Vanuatu, an archipelago of 83 islands (two disputed with New Caledonia) with a total population around 300,000.  Originally settled by Melanesians several thousand years ago Vanuatu was first visited briefly by Europeans in 1722, then later by the French explorer Bougainville and in 1774 by Captain Cook, who named the archipelago New Hebrides after the Hebrides islands of Scotland.  British and French settlers arrived in small numbers during the 19th century and in 1887 those two countries set up a joint rule that lasted until independence in 1980, at first under a joint Naval administration and beginning in 1906 under a joint civil administration called a “Condominium.”  After independence was achieved in 1980 the name was changed from New Hebrides to Vanuatu.

     The Americans had a large military presence during World War II because, like New Caledonia, Vanuatu was strategically situated to support the effort to stop Japanese expansion in the Southwest Pacific.  One of the US soldiers stationed here was James Michener, whose first novel, “Tales of the South Pacific” (which became the hit musical “South Pacific”), was based on his experiences in Vanuatu.  Vanuatu was a staging and supply area for the Guadalcanal campaign and as the fighting moved further away toward Japan it continued in a supply and support role. Thousands of indigenous people joined a labor corps to support the American war effort. The Americans quickly withdrew after the war but a great deal of the infrastructure they built (roads, ports, hospitals, etc.) was left behind and some of it is still in use.

     Until recently cruise ships docked in Port Vila at a wharf about a mile from the center of town.  But in December of 2024, about 14 months before our visit, there was a huge earthquake about 5 miles offshore.   More than a dozen people were killed and close to 300 injured.  Thousands of homes were damaged, including some 245 that were at least partially destroyed.  Several bridges collapsed or were damaged and there were several landslides, one of which wrecked the cruise ship wharf and damaged the road from there into town.  So that’s why we were anchored off shore.

     Accordingly we had to tender into Port Vila.  This actually turned out to be a convenience for us because we were tendered to a small dock in a park from which we could walk to the center of town in just a block or two.  The waterside park was quite nice, with colorful flowers.  The handicrafts market  –  a large one room building with a pitched roof and ceiling and space for tables of many vendors – was at one end of the park.  We spent some time in there looking at the interesting items for sale, then walked on.

     As we walked from here up to the main thoroughfare the earthquake damage was hard to miss.  At least 10 buildings collapsed in Port Vila, some pancaking (levels dropping on top of lower levels).  A year had been spent since then clearing the debris, but we walked over remaining rubble and some cracked and broken sidewalks and passed several spots on the main street where all or part of a building appeared to be gone.

     We wandered down the street through the business district filled with what seemed to us like nondescript box-like buildings.  Of interest, though, were some wooden sculptures adorning the sidewalks.

     We wanted to visit the Vanuatu Museum so we began a long uphill walk to that area of town, made more challenging by the oppressive heat.  Vanuatu has a lot of resorts and is a well known scuba diving area; we didn’t see anyone diving but we did walk past a place with grass huts built out over the water.  We also walked past a large property lined with palm trees and bright red flowers and the Parliament House, where the Vanuatu legislature meets.  In front of that building is a sculpture of a family called “United in Peace We Progress.”

     We still hadn’t found the museum, but after watching some other folks heading into a property across the street we followed and found the Cultural Center, founded in 1959 and moved to this location in 1995, which houses several institutions including the museum.  As we approached our friend Roger was just leaving.  He said the museum was very interesting, particularly the person inside demonstrating sand drawing, an indigenous art.  But he told us they don’t take credit cards or US money to pay the admission fee, and he didn’t have enough local cash left to lend us some.  We went up to the admissions window and confirmed that they would not bend this rule.  We had no idea where we could get some local currency without another very long walk in the heat so we didn’t get to tour the museum, VERY disappointing after the hot uphill trek to see it!  We got one picture of the front room through the glass door and walked on.  Happily the National Library, which includes a public library, was in a building very close by.  They were closing for the lunch hour when we arrived but they let us step inside and look around the front hall.  A very impressive modern building.  For some reason (senior moment?) Rick took some pictures inside the library but not of the outside.  It’s front looks a lot like the front of the museum building below.

    Walking back down to the main street we passed several interesting wall paintings and a traffic circle ringed with drawings and with four totem poles in the middle.  The traffic had picked up and there was no light or stop sign at the intersection, but drivers politely stopped for us to cross.  The people of Port Vila in general seem to be very nice and friendly, usually saying hello or waving as we passed by, in addition to stopping their cars to let us cross.

     We came to a park with a very long and steep stairway leading down to the lower street level.  We walked down the stairway and headed back to the tender dock.  We passed a restaurant with a sign advertising the local beer, Tusker (a lot of pigs are grown in this region) and we walked through the large and mostly open Mama’s Market by the water’s edge, where food, handicrafts and even full dinners were for sale.  We walked through an area in the market dedicated to very colorful flowers.  Finally reaching the tender pier, we rode the next tender back to the Zaandam.  Before dinner, as usual, we sailed away for the Solomon Islands.