Yacht Shackles, a Westsail 32, visits Fanning Island, part of the Line Islands group.

DEPARTING FOR FANNING
Westsail 32
First published in "S.A. Sailing"

Christmas came and went, in a blur of festivities, and life in the inner anchorage at Christmas Island eventually settled down to normal.

During my stay one particular fisherman had befriended me more than the others. His name is Looti, and he was known as one of the better fishermen on the island. He often ventured out to sea in his canoe in search of tuna. Every time I saw him he would invite me to his house for a meal, which I often accepted.

He is very proud of his home, which was typical island style, with a central raised platform on stilts covered with a thatch roof supported on coconut poles with the sides open. This structure served as a gathering area where the family would laze on the floor in the shade. The pigs and chickens would laze underneath, together with a few cats and dogs. At night the woven sides would be let down, and it would become the family sleeping area. One of the prides of Lootis' household was a flushing toilet in its own little room - which was apparently the only one in the village. It was a conventional toilet bowl without seat or lid, and a cistern that was filled with water. Every time it was flushed it emptied into a drum outside. The effluent was then used as fertilizer for his paw paw tree!

Meal times at Looti's House almost always consisted of rice and grilled Milkfish, prepared on an open fire by the women folk (he has four daughters), and served in a common pot which was placed in the centre of the floor. The family and I would sit cross legged around the pot, while Looti said prayers and made a speech which was mostly to do with his unmarried daughters. After this speech we would dig in with our fingers, although on my visits I was given a plastic plate and plastic fork.

Generally when I left the family gathering, I would give a few little gifts - trinkets that I had brought with me for just this purpose. The day following my visit Looti would come aboard 'Shackles' and give me a little gift - a carved knife or a pretty shell. I would then feel obliged, as is the local custom, to give him a gift a few days later - a few fish hooks and lures, then a torch, and finally my torn mainsail, that was beyond repair. I had ripped it from end to end on route from San Diego in a violent line squall, but very fortunately had a spare. This gift of a mainsail was priceless to him as I knew he was going to cut it up and make a sail for his canoe. Things became a little embarrassing a day or so later when he tried to reciprocate (which is the custom) by offering me a few of his live pigs and chickens to take on my voyages!

The seas around the atoll are particularly bad, rough with strong backwashes and currents, and the island is littered with wrecks. I knew of four ships and three yachts that ended up on the surrounding reefs. One of the wrecks I was determined to visit as it was the remains of a 25 meter catamaran that was being delivered on its maiden voyage from the builders in New Zealand to the Philippines, and belonged to the Marcos family, the then head of state.

I had been asked by a number of islanders to visit this wreck, and advise them if it would be practical to re-float it, and move it into the lagoon for use as a tourist barge. I was skeptical, but agreed to go and have a look.

The yacht "Elan" was still anchored out to sea in the bay, and I invited Scott and Wendy to accompany me. I had to do this by VHF radio as they were anchored a long distance and two reef passes away from me. A powered outrigger was procured on the day, and in a festive atmosphere, the "harbour master", a driver and I motored out of the lagoon, to collect Scott and Wendy.

It was the first time I had been outside the barrier reef on the rough, south side of the island, and on our return we re-entered the lagoon by surfing down waves between breakers on either side. No wonder this "pass" isn't shown on the chart! We were accompanied on this wild ride by Manta rays and Dolphins. Once back in the shallow lagoon the outrigger canoe driver, meandered his way between sand flats, to the southern village of Poland. Once there it was a good hour's walk to the site of the catamaran.

It is always sad to see the wreck of a vessel, even sadder if it is a yacht. This one bore the signs of an immense struggle, as it was one hundred meters from the sea, and another 50 meters from the reef. Like most things that happen on board a yacht, the incident occurred at night some 15 years previously. An error of judgment put a new $2,000,000 catamaran on the reef, instead of in the sheltered bay 10 miles to the north.

At low tide it was dragged across the reef and up on to the beach with the help of a local tractor. Mrs. Marcos, the supposed owner, flew from the Philippines to Christmas Island to supervise the salvage. After a few months of toil in the tropical heat, just north of the Equator, it was decided to abandon the yacht. All the expensive gear was taken off, and flown to Hawaii, where it was sold for a pittance. All that is left are two 80 foot hulls, one of which has a 40 foot gash in it, and most of the interior bulkheads. A lot of the vessel found its way to islanders homes, and many a table or wall is built using parts of the catamaran. My only advice to the islanders who thought of re-launching it, was to leave it where it was.

Time was marching on as I had already been at Christmas Island for two months, and the threat of cyclones was diminishing on my intended route further south. I had been approached by one of the few visitors on the island, who was a representative for the New Zealand government, with the view of chartering 'Shackles' for a trip to Fanning Island, some 200 miles west. Robbie, the New Zealander, was involved in a 'self help' project on Christmas Island, involving the cultivation and subsequent export of seaweed. He wanted to try and establish the same on Fanning. I was asked to take a passenger and a small cargo, and depart around the middle of January. I wasn't doing much at the time so I agreed.

I cleared customs with an additional "crew", and was bound for Fanning Island. At first light, and on the spring high tide, Peter, the local "harbour master" had agreed to pilot me out of the tricky anchorage and through the inner reef.

A few people knew of my proposed departure, and they stood waving from the town wharf. Looti and his wife had also made the journey, and stood lonely together on the beach waving too. Peter, presented me with a lei of flowers from Looti. Very touching.

The journey out went like clockwork, and I only clipped bottom once before clearing "Cooks Passage" which was the main pass. I re-anchored close to 'Elan' and waited for my cargo and passenger.

My 'cargo' was to consist of a few small boxes of rope and string and a bit of net. With hand signs I was shown the small space it would take up on board, and agreed to load it inside the anchorage, and the balance at sea. A lighter appeared bringing the rest of the cargo which consisted of many boxes weighing about a ton.

Things were becoming absurd as Kaeti, my new passenger and I, had completely filled the bow, while the saloon sole was covered by half a meter of rope and hundreds of twine spools as we had unpacked the boxes to make storage easier. One last thing Kaeti begged for was a few more light things for the shop on Fanning. These consisted of boxes of sweets and tupperware containers, and oh yes, another 'last' thing which turned out to be two truck tyres for the truck on Fanning. This request I couldn't refuse, as it had come from the governor himself. The truck tyres were lashed on deck, and lastly the mail arrived, a few letters for the expectant islanders.

If I had stayed longer, I am sure more and more goods would have materialised. As it was, there wasn't a whole lot of space in 'Shackles' cabin as even the starboard bunk was filled with goods, and Kaeti was also beginning to feel embarrassed. To 'sweeten the deal' he gave me three cartons (of 12) instant noodles with shrimp - that just happened to be left on the lighter!

We sailed off into the afternoon sunset - cargo vessel 'Shackles' bound for Fanning Island.

I had previously met Kaeti who, apart from being the seaweed cultivation expert, was also the Seventh Day Adventist minister for the Line Islands, and his congregation on Fanning were waiting. It was actually a very good trip with steady force 4 - 5 winds right up the stern. We made such good time that I had to slow down so as to arrive at the pass to the lagoon at first light on the second day when it was high tide. I assumed Kaeti was a very good crew, and even though he had never been on a yacht before, he learnt quickly.

He was enthralled with the Aries vane gear, but couldn't fathom out why it worked. The only obvious problem we faced, having so much gear on board, is that we had only one useable bunk. I instigated a watch system, and we took turns in the bunk!

At dawn on the second day Fanning was right ahead where it should have been.

Kaz, as I had now begun to call him, suggested we radio on channel 16. He had been to the atoll before and stated that Chuck, the only Imatang (European) on the island, owned a VHF radio and was expecting us. Sure enough, Chuck who was at the top of a coconut tree waiting for our call, responded. Chuck suggested that we came straight in as it was coming to high tide. I started to motor in through the rough seas approaching the entrance, but with so much extra weight in the bow, I couldn't get a very good momentum going as the propeller would come out of the water in the following breaking seas.

The whole of Fanning must have known we were coming, as very few boats visit this remote atoll, and it is quite an occasion to have a visitor. The officials, for the morning only, were already on their way out in a canoe, to welcome us and clear us in. Chuck was the next to arrive on board, stating that we were the first people to visit Fanning that year. Kaz and I felt like heroes as after all, we had brought their much needed supplies, and a way of making an income for dozens of islanders!

We launched my dinghy, and after a few scary moments with the current and an outboard that refused to start, we made it ashore. Kaz then obtained a big aluminium powered barge, which we took back to the yacht, and began to off-load our cargo. Once the unloading was completed, the waterline of Shackles was noticeably increased.

A little later on in the morning, the owner of the only truck on Fanning arrived in a boat, and relived me of the two big tyres that had been lashed on deck. In return I was given a hand of bananas, a pumpkin, and some drinking coconuts. Finally, i dropped the mail with the town clerk, who in turn would distribute it.

All this was done before breakfast!

Chuck invited us to his home for a meal. He had been on the island a number of years, and was the only European. He was trying to establish an "old world" type "trading post", and visitor accommodation centre on this small atoll. He lives the life of an islander, in a small stilted dwelling with palm thatch roof which overlooked his workshop. Chuck, not only owned a hand-held VHF, but also a sophisticated ham radio net which he ran off 12 volt batteries charged with a little generator or solar panels.

Fanning has almost no services to speak of. There is no electricity, no telephones, no running water, no bank or postal service. There is one store, with almost no goods in it, apart from the few items we brought on board 'Shackles". With no bank, there is little need for money as the store will accept a trade, or an I.O.U. for some later stage when a boat with a 'money changer' arrives.

Visiting boats are very infrequent, and even less so is the cargo ship that brings supplies from the capital, Tarawa, which is 2 000 miles away. When supplies run out, the inhabitants have learned to live without - as after all, Fanning is a very lush, tropical island with a lot of fruit and vegetables growing. The 400 or so islanders also keep pigs and chickens.

It is so different from Christmas Island as Fanning is neat and tidy without the rubbish and scrap metal of World War II vintage. Noticeable too was the absence of Foster Beer cans that liberally adorned my previous island.

Teraina, to give Fanning Island its correct name, is part of the Line Islands group, and comprises a very remote part of the Republic of Kiribati. English Harbour is the anchorage inside the pass where 'Shackles' was at anchor. With the rate of current, both ingoing and outgoing, I felt it advisable to put down two anchors, although every twelve hours, the boat would swing, and the anchor rodes would twist around themselves. At least I felt a little safer even though I had a daily chore of untwisting anchor lines. This was far better than the possibility of being swept out of the pass, and the currents were too strong to even attempt any swimming.

I soon realised that there was another yacht anchored in the lagoon. I hadn't immediately spotted it as 'Navigator', an American Ketch, with Joe and Kate aboard, had wound their way deep into the lagoon, amongst the coral heads in an attempt to get away from the current. A wonderful place, if one was planning a longish stay!

Each day we would congregate at Chuck's house, and very soon, met Chuck's partner Joe, who was leaving the business of trading! Between them they seemed to do everything. At the time Chuck was busy cutting coconut trees into sizeable planks, and storing them, as he had a potential market for them in the nations' capital, and all he had to do was wait for a supply vessel. He asked whether I was interested.

He and Joe also ran a "taxi service", as they owned one of the few seaworthy powered boats on the atoll. With the strong current dividing the island, their boat was regularly in demand.

Chuck also ran a local "money changing" service, and seemingly was the only one on the island with any money.

During my stay there was to be a wedding on the island. An acquaintance of mine, Roger Lextrait, a Frenchman of about my age whom I had met eight years previously in Pago Pago in American Samoa was to be the groom. He was then aboard a yacht named 'Cous Cous', and was working as a chef in one of the Samoan Hotels. He was now the manager of the privately owned atoll of Palmyra to the north west of Fanning which is under the jurisdiction of the United States. Roger was to marry a 19 year old local Polynesian girl of the island, and return, with his new wife to Palmyra, on a vessel that was supposed to stop here within a week while on route to Christmas Island and the rest of the Line group.

I let it be known to Chuck that I had a few new VHF base mount radios on board, as I too am somewhat of a trader. Immediately he wanted one, as did his partner Joe, and Kaz as well, as they were going to use the VHF radios in lieu of telephones. Fortunately I had a lot of co-ax cable and plugs on board, so I was able to rig up two of the sets, using the tops of coconut trees as antenna mounts. Joe off 'Navigator" devised a very clever antenna that was joined up to the co-ax and mounted at tree top height.

Joe, being very electronically minded, also repaired a few solar panels. With the sale of thee VHF radios as well as a few fluorescent lights, I was to leave Fanning in far better financial shape than when I arrived.

In the meantime Kaz had moved off the yacht, and was doing very well at his seaweed cultivation project. He had a team of people working with him. He would lay out long lines of rope and string in the shallow areas of the lagoon, just off the beach, and intertwine seaweed on the lines. This had to be done in an area of not too much current.

One dark night 'South Pacific', the inter-island ship arrived, and I was asked to leave my masthead light on to give them a bearing on the pass. It was a rough night and the vessel decided not to enter, but to drift outside. With the help of Chuck's boat, the few passengers were loaded aboard the ship, but not Roger and his new bride, as a last minute hitch had postponed the wedding.

The happy couple had to wait for permission from a minister in the government of Kiribati in the capital Tarawa before they could marry. Then there was also the problem of a passport for his spouse as to go to Palmyra she would have to have a passport. Apart from the fact that the island is mostly deserted, with few visitors except for the occasional visiting yacht, the government insisted on a passport, and so it went on. I left two weeks later and Roger was still waiting for all the necessary permits to enable him to leave and get married.

Now that Chuck had left the island, Joe was in charge of his business and radio and moved into Chuck's beach side hut. I had met Joe's wife Joy, who ran the local clinic. She began telling me that for a whole year she has been waiting for a few medical supplies from Tarawa, but that nothing ever happens. After visiting the 'Bush Clinic', I decided to share my first-aid kit with joy, and leave her with such basic items as cotton wool, bandages, plastic combs and toothbrushes.

Joy's mother lives in Finafuti, which was one of my next intended destinations, and I was asked to deliver a letter to her. Communication is a major problem on Fanning!

Every time I was ashore for a longish period, exploring the island or just visiting, I was concerned about the yacht as the strong current on the outgoing tide was my worry. I realised that the whole boat hung on the pin of a 10mm galvanised shackle, which either kept it at anchor or saw it being swept out to sea!

For this reason alone I reluctantly decided to leave within two days and head towards Funafuti on the other side of the date line, but I would go via Canto Island and through the almost deserted Pheonix Island group en route.

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