Solomons West

Simply Fabulous

This is a small islet at an entrance to world-famous Marovo Lagoon, considered the largest lagoon in the world. The island behind it is Vangunu, which is densely forested but is being rapidly stripped bare of its virgin hardwoods, much of it exotic woods like ebony.

We decided that "Marovo" must be a local dialect for "pushy wood carver". The lagoon is a like a vast salty lake, dotted with small islets, each of which seems to contain hundreds of wood carvers just waiting for victims, er, customers. These guys are part pirate, part used-call salesman. We had decided at first not to allow them on the boat, but relented out of courtesy. Bad move. Once aboard they would not leave until they had extracted whatever they could from us. We said we were out of cash so they wanted to trade. This process would take hours as they began asking for just about anything, up to and including the outboard motors. It drives one to suicide. We'd finally give in simply to be rid of them, which was but a temporary respite since 2-3 other boats would be alongside waiting their turn at the looting, er, sales process. We finally decided on a policy of absolutely no boarding, no trading. Otherwise, we would do nothing all day but entertain carvers. (They seem to think this is a perfectly normal thing for us to do and even insisted we allow ever carver aboard to show their wares...)

One place to especially avoid is Mbili. This would be a marvelous place with great diving, only it is thoroughly infested with carvers. We'd prefer sandflies, they're cheaper and suck less blood. If one must visit certain places like Mbili, do it on a Saturday, the Seventh-Day Adventist Sabbath. This is the only time one is likely to remain unmolested. Anyway, we'd love to show pictures of Mbili but we refuse to aid them in their quest to snare more yachts. Stay away!

OK, after being taken in Mbili we discovered the western side of Marovo is not infested with pirate carvers. This is a shot of Matikuri Lodge, a small eco-resort south of Seghe. The hosts, Benjamin and Jillie, were two of the nicest people we ever met. Their bookings have been devastated by travel warnings that suggest the Solomons are dangerous, which is only true in a few places, most being much safer than Newark or Oakland. We wish we could have stayed longer, but we needed to move west.

Our next stop was Viru Harbor, a nice, protected place to spend the night. This is a view looking south to Blanche Channel. What you can't see are the hordes of creepy dudes who came by at all hours. We were glad to be out of there.

After Viru we headed for Munda, a famous WWII battleground as the Japanese had built an airstrip there. This is the first place in weeks where we were essentially left alone. The canoe above never came within 50 yards of us. We actually missed our native visits.

What is this? It's a pile of junk, mostly landing craft deliberately cut in half and bulldozed into a rusting heap, a gift of the US military in 1945. We wanted a better look, but everybody who lived nearby expected $20 for the privilege. No, thanks.

Here's the admiral going diving. The hunky guy behind her was the divemaster, named Sycamore - his mom had a sense of humor and named all the boys after trees and the girls after flowers. Most Islanders have good English names like Nigel and Selwyn, so we found this interesting. He and the other divemaster, Bryan, were great.

One thing they have in the Solomons is handsome children. Here's a Mona Lisa of the Islands.

One thing they used to have were headhunters. Melanesians believed the head contained a person's mana, or spiritual power. In the Solomons they decided to collect this power by collecting heads. Whole islands were depopulated, the last raid being in 1936. Besides taking heads by force they would collect the heads of their deceased chiefs and warriors and place them in shrines. Here some silent warriors protect the shrine of their chiefs.

Here are the chiefs, whose skulls are 3-4 centuries old. Note the shell money in the foreground. The shell rings were used to buy the bride in traditional arranged marriages. The money is still used for that purpose today.

Here's the admiral with the island's caretaker, Eddie. His presence is necessary to prevent the locals from carting off the skulls and money and selling it all to tourists.

Back to Munda. This solemn child is not sure he wants his photo taken. He is eating what is called a "bush apple."

Their serious approach to modeling begins at an early age.

You're probably thinking, "Not another sunset!". But, this one has a purpose. This was taken from our next anchorage in Rendova Harbor. The low island on the right is Lumberi, where the PT boat headquarters were located. It's famous because one of the boat assigned here was PT109, whence it left to meet its fate in Blackett Strait.

There's a very poor village in Rendova Harbor, populated by Malaitan immigrants. They were brought here to work in a plantation that closed when the British left in 1980. While mired in poverty they are rich in spirit and hospitality. Eye problems are rampant in the Solomons and there are nil ophthalmologists! Note the kids with the severe Strabismus.

We visited Rendova in part because they had an Anglican church there. This is the church bell, made from a rusted WWII oxygen cylinder. It sounds surprisingly crisp.

Umbrella's are a convenient and practical commodity here in the Tropic's. Nice and utilitarian to shade the infants. Practically everyone owns one.

The villagers wanted to visit in order to sing us Christmas carols. They said there would be 16 people; there are nineteen in this picture and about 35 altogether, the most who have been on the boat at one time. You haven't lived until you've heard the harmony of a Melanesian choir. It was terrific having them aboard!

We left Rendova with happy hearts but no fuel. We decided to visit the town of Noro to refuel but couldn't, so we went a little further in order to dive on a famous wreck, the Japanese transport Kasi Maru. Unfortunately, recent rains had made the harbor at Mbaeroko so muddy we couldn't see the propeller on the outboard motor, so we had to give it a miss.

This was another reason to give the dive a miss. This is the first salt-water croc we'd seen in the Solomons, and the admiral claims a severe allergy to them. It was maybe 30 yards from the ship. They are the bane of village pet owners, but we didn't want to see if they liked divers, too.One of the girls in the village mournfully related "The Croc" had eaten their cat, Topsey.

No dives in prospect, we left for Ringgi Cove, near the Japanese base which was being blockaded by PT109 when it was sunk. The welcoming committee, who appears related to Don King, brought flowers to the admiral. This place apparently is a major croc hangout, so no diving here.

This is the mighty, albeit extinct, volcano of Kolumbangara, as seen from Blackett Strait, approximately where PT109 was cut in half.

This is where the crew swam after they abandoned the floating half of PT109. It's pretty but only about 5 miles from the Japanese base at Gizo and only 100 yards long, too small to hide 11 men.

What we discovered there was some beautiful reefs clear of crocs. One surprise we found was a gentle dugong, a close relation to the manatee of Florida. This guy was maybe 10' long. It looks like a missing link, a cross between a walrus and a whale.

While anchored at Olsana Island we were happy to watch the 'local color' canoe by. Here the captain of this craft shows innovation in the addition of an umbrella to his sail plan!

The Gizo waterfront is not exactly Venice. A small market and several modest but spare Chinese shops line this friendly outpost of the Western Province. On the one main dirt road Gizo sports one or two all important dive venues for the adventurous tourist.

We departed Gizo for the Island of Liapari, which is close to the large island of Vella Lavella. This very sheltered harbor features a boatyard, which is unique to this part of the world. We went there to get some boat work done, the first since New Zealand almost 9 months ago.

After departing Liapari we headed back to Gizo. When we first arrived there they had no fuel and didn't expect any until after New Year's. Meanwhile, we began to contemplate the impending visit by our daughter Kayte, who plans to see us in Truk. Most cruising is done without much planning in the way of precise dates, but nothing causes sudden organization better than someone flying in. In order to get to Truk by early February (it's Jan 1 in Gizo) we have to get moving in order to arrive in Pohnpei with enough time to see the place and get stuff shipped in and provisions acquired. It will sound pathetic, but we were excited to hear that Pohnpei has a Wal-Mart. If all your shopping has been in tiny Chinese stores with mostly rice and tinned meat for the last 6 months, the idea of Pringles and decent towels becomes a major attraction. Vera hopes to obtain Oil of Olay.

Anyway, we're ready for a change of place and certainly hope to obtain a little less heat. It's summer in the Solomons and besides the risk of cyclones there are the daily deluges called the rainy season. We'll spend a few months north of the Equator before returning to the S Pacific via Papua New Guinea. Meanwhile, stay tuned for our first report on Micronesia and the Mighty Truk Lagoon, which is 380 miles west of Micronesia. Truk, called Chuuk nowadays, is renowned for its plethora of WWII Japanese underwater scenery. In other words, a divers' Mecca for wrecks. Although John is more fond of rusting historical wreckage, there are also enough in the way of coral gardens to please the most discerning dive enthusiast. Anyway, off to Micronesia!

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