We awoke to find our ship moored off Vanuatu in a lagoon fringed with palm trees. We were enticed onto a day tour with stories of tropical beaches and a visit to a coral reef in a glass bottomed boat. Our glass bottomed boat floated so close over the reef they were afraid it would touch. Brightly coloured fish abounded. There were Gold fish with large blue eyes, Angelfish and those curious rectangular shaped fish, yellow, frightened and darting to and fro amongst the coral. They peered inquisitively at us through the glass, as though we were the novelty, perhaps we were!
Back on the beach a barbecue was underway. Slices of melon, pineapple, mango, tomatoes made a colourful sight. The steak and sausages were sizzling. In spite of the remote setting, away from any civilisation, we were served with a full set of cutlery wrapped in a napkin as though we were still aboard our ship. With a temperature in the eighties we needed shade. We found a tree by the water and ate our lunch while sitting in the sea. It was cooling and we raised our plates as the surf passed by.
Armed with the remains of my bread roll I checked on the claim that the fish would feed out of our hand. A few crumbs on the surface of the water attracted them and helped overcome their timidity. Some fish about six inches long appeared and snapped at the crumbs. I had some reservations about my fingertips in the light of their enthusiasm for the food. As a precaution I cut off a large section of bread roll so that my fingers were well back from the point of action. Having sampled our wares, their desire for more was strong. In a few moments there was a gentle tugging at the slice of bread roll, which I was holding just below the surface. Soon there was a swish of water as another swam past and bit off some more. In fact my fingers were not considered edible for they extracted the bread delicately from between them. Nevertheless the remains of the barbecued steak in one of the sandwiches was considered a tasty morsel, perhaps they preferred cooked meat.
The scene of peace and tranquility was not always like that. On the way there we anchored off Lelepa Island for a walk up to a cave. A chieftain had once lived there with a harem of a hundred wives and children. The custom at the time had been for wives to join their husband in his tomb. Legend has it that an extra strong brew of the traditional Kava drink was served to them before they were buried alive in the cave. Now the only sign of the former habitation was the carved drawings on the walls. The only life, apart from our tourist feet, was a slim, striped lizard scurrying over the rocks and a tiny hermit crab walking across our path.
Derrick Grover has travelled extensively. He has had numerous articles published. He is also an experienced photographer and supplies high quality images to support his writing. Further details and photographs are on http://www.travoto.com/pacific.htm
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