The Great Shrimp Hunt

Yachting

Story and Pictures by Sally Andrews

I’D never seen anything so silly. Two grown men in two feet of water, bent at the

waist, stalking shrimp. Using

masks and snorkels, they searched the nooks and crannies of the stream bed for small, tasty crustaceans.

When our new-found friend and guide, Patrick, had first suggested the shrimp hunt, I laughed. “Spear shrimp? You’ve got to be kidding!” But it sounded fun and, if we were lucky, we’d catch enough for din ner. Foster was keen to try. I said “let’s go!” Although a shrimp-trap made of natu ral bush materials is more effective, we were armed with only the basics - a sea shell for scraping coconut meat for bait and a miniature three-pronged speargun made of sharpened umbrella spines tied to a stick. Hunting with such a tiny spear amongst boulders and dead leaves sus pended in mid-stream gave the shrimp a

decided advantage. Patrick impaled nearly a dozen, enough to compliment a seafood pasta dinner. Foster succeeded in spearing only a few rocks and leaves, which gener ated gales of laughter from the sidelines.

We were visiting the Banks group of islands - spectacular volcanic hills garbed in green bush, coasts lined with palm trees and black sand beaches. There are few all weather anchorages, but trade winds pre dominate and some shelter can be found on the \yest coasts of these poorly charted islands. The first sign of Waterfall Bay is the twin waterfall on the promontory to the South of the bay. Though the anchorage doesn’t look promising, it has a good sand bottom and is protected from all winds except west to Northwest. We experienced a week of strong southerly winds and, unlike most anchorages in the Banks Islands, the ocean swell posed no problem.

“No roll” made for a welcome change of pace, because our floating home had been quite lively for the past week. The main

attraction at Waterfall Bay is, naturally, a fantastic twin waterfall. Two tall falls lie side by side and drop into a great swim ming pool at the base. The falling water roars down the cliff, spraying a huge area with thick cooling mist as it crashes onto the rocks. Swimming with dive masks, you can study both fish and swirling underwa ter bubbles. The stream at the top of the falls was the site of the great shrimp hunt.

We enjoyed this surfeit of water for laun dry and washing. A natural spring bubbling out of another beach provided pure drink ing water. On arrival, we gave our “catch of the day” to Patrick when he came by canoe to greet us. At Patrick’s home south of the falls, we read through a “visitor’s logbook” in which foreign yachtsmen have been making entries for years. It is an excellent record of the passing of time and yachts. Patrick’s ambition was to build a small restaurant cum yacht club.

Further south, we found the home of John and Lili’s big family. Cactus and sisal

plants thrived along the trail but unlike many islands in Vanuatu, kava is not grown as a cash crop. At the next village south, Foster was shown four sacred stone statues and an abandoned waterway system, evi dence that the area was once heavily popu lated. One day, we found John and Lili’s family laden with gifts, waiting for us at the base of the waterfalls. They had bas kets of grapefruit, coconuts, ngaingai nuts, limes, home-made laplap pudding, fresh eggs, and oranges. Two teenage girls kept climbing behind the waterfall and diving like dare-devils off a high rock ledge into the pool.

We were overwhelmed with the fami ly’s generosity and spent the day visiting talking, swimming, relaxing, eating and listening to the roar of the water. As evening approached, the light on the falls was spectacular. Spellbound by these two rivers of gold crashing constantly to earth, we thought: What better place to be?

Learning about the local environment is always fun, sometimes challenging and, in this instance, a bit of a disaster. We asked two small boys about the rare megapode bird that incubates its egg in warm sand.

After swimming in the freshwater pool one day, and much to our horror, they present ed us with a huge namalao (megapode) egg. Well, we’d asked for it, hadn’t we?

The megapode bird’s egg incubates in the ground for 40 days before emerging feath ered and ready to fly! It was too late to put it back. I only hoped that when we cracked it open, it would not be a dead feathered fowl. As it turned out, mixed with some flour and bananas, it made an excellent cake!

We like to wonder around villages in the Pacific looking at homes and gardens and saying hello. Equally curious, locals throughout Vanuatu enjoy paddling their canoes past Fellowship so they can say “Hi!” and see our home up close.

Sometimes, when invited aboard for a cup of tea or lemonade and cookies, there are requests for items unavailable in the vil lage store, if there’s a store!

At Waterfall Bay, supplies are a day’s walk east and the trading ship comes irreg ularly. Kerosene, flour, sugar, soap, match es, tinned beef, batteries are often in high demand. These items, along with maga zines, clothing, fabric, seeds, even 2-litre plastic jugs, are much sought after as trad ing goods. Reciprocating gifts and trading for items is all part of the fun of cruising.

Several cruising boats arrived and departed during our stay - most en route to the Solomons - and it began to feel more like Port Vila than a remote Banks Island.

The wind remained southerly, no good for our departure since we were head ing to Santo. We stayed put, while fabulous sky shows spawned by intermittent sun and rain squalls - created fan tastic rainbows over the falls.

As always, our life is ruled by weather. Though we want ed to fetch Patrick’s wife Sarah from a distant village and bring her back to Waterfall Bay, the wind finally turned good for sailing south. We had to leave. The dilemma was solved when the Canadian ketch “Joanie D” kindly vol unteered to transport Sarah home. ■

The main attraction: a fantistic twin waterfall

Patrick and Foster smile after the great shrimp hunt