We left our friends behind in Port Sandwich and spent the day motoring in calm seas over to Pentecost Island. Since early on in researching Vanuatu we’d been finding things about the Pentecost Land Diving, and it sounded like something we couldn’t miss, even if (or perhaps because) it was sure to be a strange, awkward experience for us all.

We went ashore in the morning to meet with Bartholomew, who would arrange a truck and the introductions to the village where we’d witness the land diving. There was a village on the beach at the anchorage and we drew a small crowd as we made our way out to the road to wait for a truck. A couple from another boat arrived, and we settled in for an hour or so as Bartholomew tapped away on his ancient Nokia trying to find a driver who felt like going up into the mountains.

It was about half an hour up into the mountains, and upon arrival the chief immediately came down to introduce himself. Bartholomew had made clear to us beforehand that we should make eye contact when shaking hands, and it was obvious right away that that small sign of respect was something they took seriously.

The true origin story of Pentecost’s land diving is a little murky, but it seems to revolve around a woman being a little too vigorously pursued by her husband in bed. One story goes that she climbed a banyan tree to escape him and tied vines to her ankles. When her husband caught up to her she leapt, and he followed. The vines saved her while her tormentor tumbled to his death. Another has the man with the vines leaping to save the woman. And I’m sure there are many more variations.

Eventually land diving became a way to ask the gods for a good yam harvest, and while initially it was the women who did the diving, over time the men took over and it became a show of bravery as well as an introduction to manhood for young boys.

Originally the diving took place from banyan trees, but over time purpose built towers were constructed instead. Incredible contraptions.

I should probably point out that this is a traditional village. Men wear only a nambasa (penis wrap), and women grass skirts.

The tribe stands beneath the tower dancing and chanting throughout the ceremony. It would have been fascinating to know what their chants were saying.

Boys usually begin land diving around age ten. As they get older they move higher up the tower. One man that dove this day was in his sixties. I asked him afterwards how many times he had done this. “Many. Many years.” He seemed quite proud of his longevity.

As they dive they tuck their arms in and are supposed to leap as far out as possible. As they fall the vines break through the platform (the platform breaks free and tilts down) to reduce the impact slightly.

This, apparently, is what happens if you dive down instead of out. It was shocking to see the impact, but a relief to see that everyone was laughing afterwards. I asked our guide what was so funny and he explained that the diver jumped down, not out. And also that one of the vines broke during the jump. I’m not sure why this was all so funny, but was happy to see that the boy did get straight up. I have to think the laughter of the men had to have stung, though.

You can see the scars from the vines across the legs of the men. Land diving is only done during this time of year, when the vines have the most elasticity. At other times of year they are dry and will snap (like they did on the boy, despite the season).

Feeling a bit like time travelers.

Every man looked strong enough to bust open coconuts with his bare hands.

They were constantly tilling the soil for a softer impact.

You can see that the experienced older men were sure to dive out as far as possible from the tower.

On a good jump their head and chest would snap back just short of the dirt slope, and as their heads went up their legs would hit as the vines pulled them towards the tower.

While many of the men danced with plain sticks, the chief of the village was the only one allowed to have a painted, carved stick. It identifies him as the chief, and I presume gives him a weapon that others won’t have to use against him.

This boy’s father was very proud after his first jump.

There were five jumps this day, and afterwards we made our way back to the village for a lunch of chicken and taro laplap (Vanuatu’s national dish).

Ouest was a huge hit with all of the kids.

They were really intrigued with Ouest’s long fingernails.

After lunch we said our goodbyes and rode the truck back down the mountain. The island’s trading ship was anchored off the beach and they were all busy unloading.

On our trip over the day before the autopilot had started to act up again, so before we took off I replaced the rudder sensor with the new one we had shipped in. I wasn’t 100% convinced this was the problem, but it was the only thing I could think of. Fortunately, we’d find out that night it had solved the problem. Autopilot reactivated.

As the sun went down we pulled the anchor back up and headed out to sea again. Most of the hops in these islands aren’t much more than 40 or 50 miles, which we kind of like to do at night rather than spend an entire day at sea going from Point A to Point B. We sailed away from Pentecost Island thankful for the experience we’d just had.