Tropical Delight Follows Tropical Surprise

Approaching by water, Epi Island presents roiling cloud erupting over its high hills, and a vigorous choking vine erupting upward from the very rocks that dip into the water, clambering up and over (and killing) trees and anything else in its path and reaching verily into those roiling clouds: no doubt a very problematic introduced species.

I know that there are settlements in the dense green there, but, save for one wisp of trailing smoke rising into the air, there is no visible sign of humans at all for the first half of the island, then precious little after that. We make afternoon anchor at the also largely hidden capital, Lamen, pop c 150 persons.

Tropical downpours begin before dawn, the village, 100m away, disappears and the water turns brown with runoff from the hills.

We are expecting heavy rain, I am looking forward to it in fact, thinking I can get some sewing done, so this is no drama. There are, however, some swells rolling into the anchorage in a slightly uncomfortable way, but the forecast is for light winds, about 10knots. Of the five boats in the anchorage, the first leaves in the early morning under such densely sheeting rain that it disappears within a few metres, then one, by one, the others follow suit. We scratch our heads slightly, wondering if they know something we don’t, or if we are really tough sailors ready for the rolliest anchorage that defeats the others, then reconsider and decide to follow to the next island 25miles away, which boasts superlative protection from swell. Somehow, after what seems minutes outside the bay, the wind hits 35knots, like 3.5 times the forecast. This is puzzling! We battle on for a bit, then have an enlightening chat to a fellow boat on the VHF radio (the first leaver from our anchorage) who describes their conditions as 5m seas and 50knots of wind, all of which is very serious, particularly in the middle of these islands where seas can be very confused due to currents.

It’s not always easy to turn back. The wind tops 45knots for us. It is the best-looking rolly anchorage I’ve seen in a while. The other boats come back one by one.

A day later it suddenly all becomes perfect again: the wind drops, the water instantly becomes clear again, the swell goes down, enormous green turtles are all around us, popping up nonchalantly right next to the boat, taking a few breaths and ducking under again,, dugongs put in an appearance just to add spice to the mix. The water temperature is now over 29oC, which is probably not too good for the corals, but is gloriously uninhibiting to swim in, and the water turns out to be startlingly clear and full of life. I swim within arms reach of the wings of the turtles and watch them munching grasses on the bottom at close quarters, eventually finding that I can, in fact, reach out and scratch the back of their shells, which, experience in turtle sanctuaries has taught me, they love. (Sorry, my underwater camera has died….) Sea snakes wind through the crevices of the reef, mating triggerfish dance here and there, some fish are so beautiful I spontaneously tear up inside my mask.

The ironic things is that I finally get to do my sewing when the rain ceases, which does not turn out to be my new tropical frock as I had hoped, but instead fixing the shredded headsail of a neighbouring boat… sigh...

We leave Epi after a few days’ stay and motor-sail away in virtually no wind, flying fish streaming from the terrifying bow of our boat, the same fun, wonderful bow that attracts a pod of dolphins to come and play...