I wrote this story when I was on Ambae during the brief activity phase of the Manaro Volcanoe on December 2005.
Lompenpen (traditional name) on Ambae has been labeled by scientists as the largest basaltic shield volcanoe in Vanuatu. On the air it resembles a large dome with imagery only nature can defy. From the farthest away viewable distance out at sea it reminds one of the back of a giant green turtle half submerged, gasping for air. It is for sure the legendary Manaro volcanoe one hears of in newspapers, radios, music lyrics, traditional myths, sporting team names and so on. Over recent years, it had generated much interest for scientists, disaster and social development workers, planners, tourists, journalists and other interest groups. I chose for a much closer encounter of its dynamic crater at Manaro Voui and believe me, that is a different experience.
There are many routes to the active crater at Manaro Voui but regardless of whichever you decide to pursue, it certainly won’t be easy. Our trip to the summit was one organized collectively by a team of officials from different organisations to pay a monitoring visit to Voui. The team composed of Geophysicist Morris Harrison from the Department of Geology, Mines and Water Resources, Esrom Molisa from the National Disaster Management Office, Lieutenant Ben Nicholson, head of the Vanuatu- Mobile Force platosm to spearhead emergency response operations at Saratamata, Hannington Alatoa from the Penama Association in Port Vila, a few journalist from the renown Associated Press media group and myself representing the Red Cross.
Ideas and planning for the expedition kept coming together until on Sunday the 9th of December 2005, we were sure we had something firm as part of our plan. The plan was that we’d start the ascend from Fandue, a coastal community on the north western flank of Ambae at about 7 am, reach the summit at about 9 or 10, spend a few good hours appreciating what Manaro has got to offer before starting the walk back somewhere between 3 or 4 in the afternoon. We thought that it would be wiser to accommodate villager’s opinions when devising our schedule for the day since they knew the place better than us. We were told by the villagers of Fandue that after drop off, the walk up should take about an hour or maybe a little more before reaching Voui. We were in fact quite excited about that having learnt that alternate route through Ambanga village took vulcanologists, research scientists and other interested groups about three to four hours. We were about to find out.
The wake up call came at about 4:30am of Monday the 10th by some of our team members. Being excited about this journey I jumped out of bed, quickly packed my stuff into my backpack, put on my shoe and headed off with rest of the team hoping for a glimpse of the Manaro, after news emerged that volcanic activity has ended decades of dormancy. I learnt about the Manaro volcanoe during childhood days through myths long talked about and now in my manhood, I somehow had this unusual drive to see it and to respond with pride to anyone who enquired with this familiar slogan “Yep. Been there and done that”.
The drive to Fandue was of course bumpy; past Lolowai, Lolopuepue, in and out of valleys with outcrops that tell the story of a once eruptive Manaro, down medium to not so steep muddy gulleys and up again, the ruggedness of which did not fade the excitement of getting up and seeing Manaro.
At about 7 am we reached Fandue.
The ascend started from there. Every second after we started the climb was going up, and up, and up. Determination and perseverance needed to be part of one’s personal preparation should you decide to get up and see the majesty of Manaro. We hadn’t thought so much about that but later realized our lack of mental preparation for the tall climb ahead.
Just a hundred meters up was the initial challenge. Give up or give in and keep going. The mountain seems to never end the further you climb. The slope in that part of Ambae was one that really stretched your perseverance to the maximum. After about a kilometer of ascend one can look down below and appreciate the coastline that boarders this volcanic island. At that height, splashing waves became inaudible as the sound of birds welcomed us into the jungle, known to the natives of Fandue as ‘dark bush’. Our entry into dark bush was through patches after patches of cultivated taro land. Our concentration was however not on the picturesque landscape that surround us or the scenic coastline below. The climb ahead was our focus for the hours head.
For readers who are not familiar with that part of Ambae, the areas of Lombaha, Waluriki and Vuikalato fall within the high risk ‘red zone’ area of north, north-west to west Ambae. On the volcanic hazard map of the island the red zone is classified according to its proximity to the crater at Manaro voui leaving it highly vulnerable indeed to any intense eruption that might occur. The proximity of the area to the crater at voui is characterised by high rise slopes that provide some of northwest Ambae’s mountaineous terrain flanked by cliffs that meet the rocky coastline.
The climb is now getting into its second hour and the more you look up, the mental drive just keeps being overpowered by the height of this unfriendly mountain. The sound of birds squeaking, the choir of leaves swaying during our brief moments of rests did bring about some relief that vanished upon the resumption of climb. It’s now becoming clearer we were in for some difficult challenges of our lives. The site of my mates is now becoming rarer. They have either gone ahead, or have taken the easier option to return to the village down below but then at this height the descend is not easy either having known about the steep distance covered on ascend.
Anyway I was getting more exhausted since my second water bottle did not energize my muscles at all to continue. I now depend on my mental strength to carry me along, this perilious path up to Manaro. Mentally I was fit and believed that I could tackle this climb and distance but my physique is now putting my goal in question. Greg the local guide by now has realized my fading physical strength by my rate of ascend. He stopped me and insisted that we take another break. I nodded with an agreeing stare. He pulled out a fresh yellow pawpaw from his rice bag that he had snatched from his brother’s garden on the foot hills down below. The pawpaw was nourishing and I was sure my aching body benefited from it. I recalled that at that stage of climb our brief periods of rest is now going into double digits. I somehow regained a renewed strength and opted to push forward despite any odds. For me this never ending mountain seems to require more mental than physical strength. I knew I had it.
On our third hour of ascend I realized I had been quiet for some time and not getting into a conversation with Greg. I looked back, there were no signs of my team mates. By now I am starting to believe more had decided to end this trail experience. I wondered how further ahead the distance we had to cover, or even worser still, the climb. Thoughts keep flushing in and out of my mind, one which is to end torturing myself and return. I cross checked with my goal, to see Manaro. They were not in agreement. I had to see it for myself.
I then struck an interesting conversation with Greg that left me listening more than talking for the next hour or so. I asked about how this path came to be. Greg then explained my query in a myth that I find quite intriguing.
About a week before the September 30th of 2005, Jennery Koko, a local male from Fandue, in his thirties, had a dream that led to him to re-discover this forgotten trail. In his dream a mature woman appeared to him and instructed him to re-follow the path his ancestors had once used to get up Manaro to seek wisdom and offer sacrifices to their ancient Gods. Koko described this woman as tattoed with ancient traditional patterns that are normally found on custom mats of Penama province. The tattoed woman, who supposedly is of high ranking in the Penema chiefly system advised him to cut his way forward following Nagaria plants, a well known plant around Vanuatu. Her instructions were not so detailed. She was brief.
Koko was part of our team up the Manaro on this trail. I enquired a little about him and after a couple of minutes; Greg described Koko in simple language. He is quiet, of a solid built and is about to get married.
I met Koko on our way to Fandue in the 4WD vehicle. He is light in complexion and matched Greg’s description and seemed to be of a humble and respectful nature.
During the course of the trip uphill, Greg continued the story as my concentration shifted from the physical to cultural signifigance of this path.
Koko felt the reality of the dream in his subconscious. He immediately knew that this was indeed a message from the ancestors. Without revealing his dream to anyone Koko set off with his mission. In the early hours of daybreak, Koko took a Penama custom mat and a white rooster and hurried to the village cemetery. There he asked the spirit of the ancestors for protection and guidance as he sets off in attempt to re-discover this forgotten trail.
As the days go by Koko pursued further and further into the thick jungle clearing the trail and following the instructions of the lady in his dream. He did not loose sight of nangaria plants who as the tattooed lady had said will act as signpost for navigating his way forward. During our journey up to Manaro we noticed nangaria plants that were left standing all along the way until the crater. Those with uncertainties can verify the story to be true by the presence of nangaria plants on this path.
On some occasions within his period of trekking, exhaustiveness led Koko astray from this path. Those were times when a certain Ambae mountain starling approached him in an attacking gesture as if to let him realize that he has diverted from the original path. Koko was alone but brave in the eerie jungle knewing that he had protection and guidance he had asked for.
For more than two months Koko did not let his relatives or friends know of this revelation from the ancestors. During that period, he was rarely seen in the community. All, including the village chief were of the idea that Koko was up to his daily routine work clearing bush and planting or maybe hanging out with mates probably diving or just discussing issues common to single people of his age. Being of quiet nature Koko’s mission and intent was suppressed with fine secrecy. After every day of trekking he would stagger home, take his towel and head off to the sea for a bath and then joined his family for dinner.
Towards mid November 2005, two of the boys from the village, Pilate Seth and Moli Vuti became suspicious of Koko’s actions. They then interrogated him for about a week. It was only when they began to realize what their quiet friend was up to. Upon their doubt Koko took them up the mountain following the cleared trail. Koko’s work ended at the crater into Manaro Quoru. Manaro Quoru is one of the three lakes normally seen on geological maps of Ambae island. It has now dried up. Myths from village elders of the day around Ambae revealed Manaro Quoru to be the sacred site during the olden days where villagers talk to their Gods, seek wisdom or offer sacrifices. It is also believed that spirits of the dead convened in Quoru as their meeting place.
Pilate and Moli then assisted Koko to clear the bush from Quoru around Manaro Kesa before reaching Voui. Just after they entered into the site at Voui, activity resumed at the crater. The NDMO then activated its emergency operations after being notified by the Department of Geology and Mines of resumption of activity on Ambae.
