Written by: Goran Peuc (Croatia, Europe)
Contact: goran@evo.hr
Phone (Europe): 00 385 98 462 601

And then one day, sitting in front of my computer in my house, I decided that I need a break from city life and that I should go to small Pacific island and spend some time there. Couple of months, to be exact. I sent email to my good friend in Sydney telling him I will be there in few days, and that he must help me in my little escapade. 20 days later, I landed in Sydney. Since I had no clue what exactly is my next destination (all I had in my mind was – “small Pacific island”), I paid a visit to Google Earth, just to check out what is in relative vicinity of Australia. There was this place called New Caledonia, but that was just a big island (yes, I am aware of the fact that they got small Loyalty Islands, but that is not the point). Going onwards to east there was this Vanuatu place, never heard of it, let’s see what is next. Next is Fiji, bah, too many tourists there, I will feel like I am at home and that is what I was escaping from in the first place, not to mention an occasional coup. Let’s check this Vanuatu thing one more time. 10 days later, after spending wonderful time in Sydney, whoosh, I landed in Port Vila without a single grain of idea where I am.

Port Vila occupied my mind for about 5 minutes, since it is just another city. Don’t get me wrong, Port Vila is a cool place to spend some time, and experiencing the spirit of ni-Vanuatu people for the first time was really nice, but at that moment I was looking for something else. Something far away from gas stations, roads, shops and telephones. Going through options, I decided that I will take “Island Gateway” boat further north to Luganville - Santo, and see how my luck is doing over there.

Luganville. Even though I found it more relaxing and cuter that Vila, it was still a city. Yes, a city consisting of one main road and few small ones, but that was not the vision I had in my head. I went straight to Air Vanuatu office and checked destinations further north. The Torba province – Torres and Banks islands. On the menu there was Gaua (too big), Vanua Lava (still too big) and Mota Lava. Hmmm… small, cute, lovable, most likely isolated and unspoilt. Yes sir, I will have one plain ticked to Mota Lava, please. I spend about 2 weeks in Luganville, meeting some of the best people that I had an honour to meet throughout my life, I went to Port Olry, Golden and Champagne beach, and then I boarded Air Vanuatu Twin Otter aircraft and took off into mystery, anticipation and adrenaline.

Just flying over Banks islands gave me a hint that I was right, that this is the place where I needed to be. Landing surprisingly smooth on Mota Lava’s grass airstrip (this pilots really know what they are doing!), I knew my life is about to take a complete new twist. Forest all around me, happy ni-Vanuatu people looking weird in my direction - not many white people visit this islands – air blowing gently and sun pouring sweet honey drops on my shoulders. Hello, I said. They smiled, and pointed me to a truck (I would soon learn that this is the only truck on the island, and even that one is rapidly falling to peaces). After a 20 minute ride I was in Mota Lava’s main village – Nerenigman, a place where I will spend my next months. No technology involved, no Internet, no noise, no phones, no schedules, just simple island life. I felt like this is the place that called me all the way to Europe, beckoned me, and pulled me from another side of the World. I instantly felt that this is my home away from home.
It is hard to describe the events that took place in those months. My immersion with village life was complete and almost instantaneous; there was no point in resisting it. I started learning how the island lives, how to catch fish, how to prepare food, how to build a house. I quickly learned to recognise people from distance by the way they moved, and by the calling sounds they make. Naturally, learning process was two sided. I soon figured out that due to lack of communication with outside world they have no clue what is happening “out there”. Every night I spent time with chiefs of village and numerous villagers telling them stories that shocked them down to their bones (or maybe it was strong island kava that shocked them, I could not tell exactly). Funny thing – space exploration was their favourite topic and every night I was asked to tell them more about stars, planets, galaxies, space ships and aliens potentially visiting our planet.

After first month I became true “Man Bush”. Nature of the island became my home. Delicate forest was my backyard, and crystal sea water with coral reef was my living room. My island tutors learned me how to dive and shoot fish in the eye, how to catch coconut crab with precision and ease; surprisingly, I still have all of my 10 fingers attached to me, how to cut open a coconut if I was thirsty, and what villagers liked the most – I never complained about anything (rugged bush, living conditions or essentially anything else). I was one of them, I was part of the island and the island was part of me.
Island kastom (culture and traditions) came along the way. Kastom dances, beautiful carvings and ceremonies, rituals and kastom stories about spirits, demons and gods kept me constantly amazed and puzzled.

As second month passed, I was getting curious about travelling further north to Torres islands, but just for a short visit. 2 weeks in Torres would be enough, and then I would return back to Mota Lava right in time for Christmas and New Year celebration. Since I was good friend with most of the village, including Air Vanuatu agent working at Mota Lava, I easily booked a ticket Mota Lava – Torres – Mota Lava. If you go now to Air Vanuatu office and try doing that, you will quickly find it impossible. First of all, there are no flights Mota Lava – Torres, and even more impossible is to get a Torres – Mota Lava ticket. But, as you might already know, in Vanuatu it is not about WHAT you know, it is about WHO you know.
With twin engines roaring behind me, I took first steps on Linua and Loh Island, Torres. Imagine a place where white sand is so fine that you sink into it as you walk. Where turquoise water colour is so intense that your mind can hardly process it. Where people rely only on what they can catch, grow, or find in the bush. Where last cargo ship was one year ago. Mota Lava was hard-core, but you could find in shops few things like toilet paper, soap and maybe occasionally even a biscuit. Torres was completely empty of all goods, but it was completely stocked with all nature can provide. A true test for a newly formed Man Bush.
My time in Torres was intense. People quickly realised that I was not an ordinary white skinned weakling. I was not afraid to go diving in open waters armed with stone-age style underwater bow and arrow, and that I did not mind spending night in rough bush running around looking for coconut crabs. Torres showed me so many wonders of true Vanuatu, relatively easily accessible caves with hand stencils, caves with human bones and magical stones, ceremonial carved stone pillars placed on top of hills (and no one knows how did they get there), white beaches sprinkled with black volcanic stones, …
Torres visit came to an end, and I was back on Mota Lava just in time for Christmas and New Year celebrations and dances. Oh, oh, do this people know how to party. Starting from 25. December all the way to about 10. January party, kastom dances and feasts were being organised every day. The big public kitchen located on main square was flooded with food and women were cooking round the clock to supply entire island with freshly cooked delicacies. Lobsters? Yes, we got them. Fish? Tons! Fresh vegetables and fruit? Heaps! Party went deep into the night every day, local string band was blasting away island music, and kava was getting seriously in danger of being extinct plant. Great times, but it all had to come to an and at one point.
On the last night in Mota Lava, there was a ceremony organised for my departure where I was presented with lots of carvings and artefacts, last kava with chiefs and friends, and a last island feast. My last walk to the airport was so hard to do. A lot of villagers (particularly some girls) were crying when they saw me leaving, a lot of older people in village thought that I was going to stay there forever and were shocked when they saw me leaving, but it was my time to get back to real world.

I came back to Vila on 15. January. My 4 months visa is soon about to expire, and I will be on my way back to Europe soon. Vanuatu experience was, without any doubt, the best 4 months of my life so far. I am looking forward to come back to wonders of North Vanuatu, and next time I come, I know I am not coming as a tourist – I am coming back to my second home.