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Published: February 25th 2008
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Blue Lagoon
The Bluest Laggon ever. Santo, Vanuatu Its Magic!
After staring clueless at a miniature sickle shaped blade for nearly 20 minutes, my attorney has taken his life into his own hands and plunged the blade into a can of Solomon Island tuna. Food! This act of courage has ended our current diet consisting of mainly bread and doxycycline. Ahhh, protein!
Now that I have a full stomach and can think somewhat clearly again, I have begun to realize that it has been sometime since my last entry. Not wanting to bore you, the reader, with more incoherent stories than necessary, Ill try to sum everything in another 799 words. We have since left the isles Vanuatu for an island chain closer to the equator, more known for its WWII history than its natives’ taste for “eating the man”. But, don’t get me wrong, it is said that the pagan tribes that reside in the highlands, still have a taste for the pale white skin of uninvited visitors.
Since leaving you in Malekula, my attorney and I have experienced some crazy stuff. On the island of Espiritu Santo in northern, Vanuatu, most of our days were consumed by diving to depths that we are certainly not
Coolidge I
Benn on the Bow of the President Coolidge. Santo, Vanuatu certified to dive to. This was absolutely necessary in order to see the insides of our 30th president. The SS President Coolidge happens to be the largest accessible wreck on the planet. With such a beast awaiting our arrival, we felt it our duty to at least descend the 40+ meters it would take to visit the Lady in her watery grave. The nitrogen narcosis was just a happy side effect.
We found ourselves at night, praying to any God that would listen to us, to please save us from His followers. All night, every night, the sounds of gently blowing breezes were replaced by overly loud, pre-programmed Casio keyboard music, accompanied by the God Fearing Singing Masses. Towards the end of the show, the music was replaced by an angry sounding preacher man ranting, in Bislama, about how we were all going to Hell for our sins. Needless to say, it was time to move on.
Our days in Vanuatu were numbered. Without much warning, we were aboard a 737 waving goodbye to the land of the worst beer in the South Pacific Ocean.
They say that Honiara is like a miniature version of Port Moresby
Coolidge II
One of the many Jeeps left in a cargo hold of the Pres. in PNG, but with slightly less crime. This maybe an over-exaggeration, as the red teeth people seemed friendly enough during the daytime. The city does however, make you think twice about wandering around at night. Nice enough place to visit for a few days, but unless you are way into WWII history, Honiara can be easily left behind for better environs.
Our 3.5 days in the capital city of Guadalcanal were spent mainly trying to get our bearings and figuring out how to get the hell out. This seems to be our planning style. Wait till we get to a country to figure out what to do. In the meantime, we met, as they told us, new members of our family. These three dudes are a family of brothers/cousins (not much of a distinction in these parts) who own a backpackers hostel in Honiara. We found out from another guest though, that we were the first “backpackers” she has seen in at least 4 months. That alone eludes to how few visitors come to the Solomon islands each year. Anyways, Joe and his brother/cousin, Kalley, have offered to takes us to their home island of Malaita and introduce us
The Lady
41 meters in the belly of the Coolidge to some of their family that still live the traditional life. Hope that we aren’t on the menu.
This is becoming long winded again. Since leaving Honiara, we have been on a ship that has broken down between islands and have sampled the finest that Solomon Air has to offer. The landing strips here in the islands make those in Vanuatu, look like DIA. While flying in the tiny planes (I call them flying busses) one starts to wonder if the stunning scenery is worth putting your life on the line for. Im not sure about all of that, but Id have to say that the hundreds of islands that make up the Western Province, have to be some of the most picturesque anywhere in the South Pacific, while the canned tuna is by far the best….ever!
Once again our decision to travel to the island of Ghizo (town is spelled Gizo) is solely based on the fact that is has some of the most virgin diving on earth. Unfortunately, the tsunami that swept through less than a year ago, wiped out a good part of the coral life. That being said, it still has to be some
SolBrew
Our first SolBrews in Honiara of the best we have found. WWII wrecks abound and there is a good chance of seeing manta rays every day. Not too bad, eh? From here, it’s our “plan” to move south through the Western Province, diving all the way. We will then try to meet up with our now cousin/brother/friends in Auki, Malatia in hopes of seeing some real honest to goodness, naked people. Hooray!
So much for a budget.
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anna
non-member comment
... more, more, more! that's what i want :) in return, i send you and your attorney a virtual can full with hugs from amsterdam. easily opened by any blade, at any time. special price, just for you! anna