November 10, 2001 - The Cruiser's Dilemma

	Donating our Ensign to the Asanvari Yacht Club.

On the day we arrived in Noumea, New Caledonia, we were told there was a festival underway and that if we wandered in to town we would see some local performers. After a few minutes watching dispirited dancers attempt to mimic Kastom dancing sanitized for tourists, we gave up and found a bar instead. No doubt the performers were not that bad, but we had just arrived from Vanuatu and were accustomed to more authentic fare.

Why do we enjoy a spectacle more when we know it is not a tourist attraction? We have all described with pleasure our presence at an event "that wasn't put on for us, it was for themselves, we just happened to be there". But even our being there must have some affect.

What are we trying to achieve when we travel? Would we like to be invisible, observing indigenous life and customs without any fear of influencing local culture? But then we would miss the interaction with people of a different culture, we would not make the local friends we have, nor would we be able to offer help occasionally when it is needed.

It is a dilemma all cruisers face. What affect does our presence have and how should we interact with local communities, how should we behave, and what aspects of our experiences should we value most. Behaving with courtesy and respecting local customs are the bare minimum requirements and do not help to answer the bigger questions.

When visiting South America we were charmed by the Kuna Indians. The Kuna Indians, who live in the San Blas islands north of Panama, sustain through choice--Panama is only a few miles away--the most primitive lifestyle we had encountered so far on our travels. It was remarkable to us that the bright lights on the mainland do not lure them, instead they chose to maintain their heritage and lifestyle on their small island chain.

Kuna Indians visiting THETA VOLANTIS.

In one of the villages there was a sick child. We were asked if we had any medicine. Of course, we went ashore to see what was needed and found a very sick baby. She had been ill for some days and was severely dehydrated. All we could offer was rehydration fluids plus advice that the child needed to be taken to the mainland to see a doctor. If they were reluctant to take her in their canoes, we would take the family on our boat. But that was not what they wanted, nor was it their way of doing things. They would have taken medicine from us but they would not go to the mainland or have the baby taken there.

It was an upsetting incident; it is not the aspect of undeveloped island life that we want to see. What we want to see are the crafts, the basic lifestyle, the costumes, dancing and so on. Yet travel will not broaden your mind unless you are willing to take in the whole picture, not just the bits you like.

We have recently spent several weeks in Vanuatu. Once again primitive village life is on display. Each village has a chief and we anchor off the villages with the chief's kind permission.

Almost all the chiefs perceive yachts-- to use a business term--as an opportunity. An opportunity in economic terms, but also cultural we think. The Kastom dancing that was performed for us seemed to be done mainly out of enjoyment and to practice for their official ceremonies. Our small monetary contribution was by way of barter. I am sure if we could have performed dances in response there would have been no charge.

Asanvari village is governed by one of the most sophisticated chiefs, Chief Nelson. He has created the Asanvari Yacht Club and built a hut for its premises. At first we were troubled that this was a step too far, changing the village way of life forever.

Instead, after talking to Chief Nelson, we realized that it was his way of ensuring that yacht crews were made most welcome and would feel comfortable in strange surroundings. It gave visitors a focal point where we could sit and rest or chat and the villagers knew who we were and were happy to make time for us.

So we joined the yacht club, and contributed our old ensign to decorate the walls of their club. The small amount of income that the lifetime membership fee (US$3) provides helps to buy things that the village needs--woodworking and carving tools, books for the children.

	Asanvari Yacht Club membership card.

It is undeniable that visiting yachts have an impact on the village. The children are shown video footage of themselves, women are given clothes and personal items, men are offered cigarettes. However this is the 21st century, whether we like it or not the world has changed, and for the better compared to the impact of the early Europeans visitors to these islands, who stripped them of sandalwood, kidnapped men to work as slaves on the plantations in Fiji, and certainly did not make any attempt to respect the historic land rights of the indigenous people.

Denying the ni-Vanuatu exposure to modern consumer goods is as patronizing an attitude as the early European settlers had, albeit without the cruelty and injustice that accompanied it. What is important is that they and their customs be respected. That they be allowed to live their lives as they wish, to welcome visitors or to deny them access, to require that visitors obey their rules, these are the things that must be preserved.

While we were in Vanuatu we wanted to climb the Ambrym volcano. Unfortunately the villagers had closed the mountain for 2 months to allow the volcano's magic a period of uninterrupted peace to recover and revitalize. Too bad for us, tough for the Tourist Board whose task is to encourage visitors in order to generate revenue for the country, but just as it should be. If the magic disappears so will the visitors and so will village kastom.