Pentecost Island
The following morning, we set sail 13 nautical miles from Ranon Bay on Ambrym to Homo Bay on Pentecost, navigating through a rough and confused sea with winds gusting at 20 knots. The Pacific Ocean funnels between the two islands, creating waves that reach 2.5 meters. We made good time, averaging 8 knots, and soon found ourselves anchored in the serene waters of Homo Bay.
Nangol – Land Diving
Pentecost is renowned for its land diving, known as Nangol, which is considered the original form of bungee jumping. During our time in Efate, we learned that this spectacular event only occurs in April, May, and June, as the vines used as ankle ropes are most elastic during these months. Historically, there was one notable exception: when Queen Elizabeth visited in September, the Ni-Vanuatu set up a special performance, which tragically resulted in a fatal jump due to a broken tie line.
We found conflicting information on Vanuatu’s official websites regarding the schedule for the diving events. Fortunately, we had the “Rocket Guide to Vanuatu,” which included updated contact details for Bartholomew on Pentecost Island. After reaching out via email and WhatsApp, we received confirmation that the land diving took place on Wednesdays and Sundays. We carefully planned our sailing route and scheduled our visit for Wednesday, May 14th. In the weeks that followed, Bartholomew frequently checked in to ensure we were coming and asked us to spread the word to other sailors, although we found few boats in the area at that time of the year.
Bema Village
Upon our arrival in Homo Bay, we were warmly greeted by a wooden canoe paddled by two men, Lala and Wotah. They lived in the mountains of Pentecost, adhering to traditional customs and clothing, and had traveled to the Bema village in Homo Bay with the sole purpose of showing us the land diving the next day. We invited them aboard our boat, and through a mix of Bislama and English, we arranged to meet on the beach at 6:30 the following morning.
That afternoon, we explored the village with Lala and the chief of Bama, walking through the tranquil hamlet accompanied by local children. One boy proudly showcased a toy made from a plastic bottle filled with sand, which emitted a delightful crackling sound when rolled across the ground. Most of the village men were busy constructing a new house with earth floors, bamboo-pole walls, and a thatched sago-palm roof supported by a rectangular frame. We witnessed one man climbing a tree to harvest Baby berry fruit, which we sampled; its pit tasted pleasantly reminiscent of almonds.
Grateful for the tour, we asked the chief if we could gift some colored pencils, and he kindly agreed, bringing joy to the children. While the Bama village had a school, the children from the mountain villages, who lived according to traditional customs, did not have the opportunity to learn to read or write. As we prepared to return to our boat, the chief, friendly but firm, requested to join us, so he, his brother, and Lala accompanied us for a beer.
Kastom village in the mountains
The next morning, we eagerly made our way to the beach, where Lala escorted us to the home of the chief’s brother. The air was thick with smoke inside the house as the family enjoyed breakfast—cookies and tea—around the fireplace. The dwelling comprised a single room, with a log dividing the women’s cooking area and children in the front from the men in the back. We waited in silence, uncertain of the proper etiquette until our transport arrived.
We took our seats inside a vehicle while the chief and several villagers hopped onto the truck bed for an hour-long drive, crossing rivers and following roads constructed by the French to reach the inner village of Pentecost. Finally, we arrived at the Nangol site, where the famed diving tower stood. The core of the tower was build from a lopped tree, with scaffolding poles tied together with vines for stability. Several platforms extended about two meters from the front of the tower, supported by sturdy struts. These impressive structures can reach heights of up to 30 meters, and the community dedicates several weeks each year to construct a new tower.
Lala was precise when he said that the Nangol would start promptly at nine, leaving us with an hour to immerse ourselves in the tranquil village life. Guided through the lush green landscape of the mountain village, we made our way to the chief’s hut, where we could sit and be a part of the quiet morning routines. The chief tended to a fire, boiling water in a big pan while the dogs basked in the warmth of the coals.
Introduction to kastom clothing – the Namba
A man entered the hut, wearing only a t-shirt. Initially, we thought he was bare underneath, but we soon realized he donned a namba, a traditional penis sheath made from the leaves or bark of the pandanus plant. This resilient material is also commonly used for weaving baskets and other items.
As we walked to the Nangol site, we encountered women and girls adorned in traditional kastom skirts called rasket, crafted from dried grass, while the boys and men wore only their nambas. Pentecost, a relatively small island with a population of under 20,000, attracts visitors from across the region to support friends and family during this momentous event. The ritual is intricately linked to the yam harvest, as a successful dive is believed to ensure a bountiful yield and serves as a fertility rite for young men. Women are prohibited from touching the vines or any part of the Nangol structure; Nilla was mindful of this, keeping her distance to avoid any misfortune.
Lala’s wife adorned Lala, Nilla, and Anders with flower garlands before we entered the site as the only two spectators. The men had meticulously prepared the area for the tower, clearing away rocks and tilling the soil to create a soft landing for the divers. Various stages at different heights marked the tower, with older men typically leaping from the higher platforms. During our visit, three boys would dive: the first was just ten years old, the second was fifteen, and Lala’s twenty-year-old son would dive from an impressive height of 30 meters!
The Nangol experience
The courageous divers got encouraged by a large group of dancers They chanted, sang, and whistled, moving rhythmically from side to side while waving leaves and sticks. The ground trembled beneath us with the force of their stomping and the enthusiastic chants of the community, creating an electrifying atmosphere filled with support for the land divers.
The ends of the vines were meticulously shredded, allowing the fibers to be wrapped securely around the ankles of the first jumper. The ten-year-old boy was about to make his debut dive, and he seemed to enjoying the moment. It felt profoundly special to witness this initiation. The short fall was a success.
The dancers continued to shout like cheerleaders, and soon the next boy was ready, receiving his strings attached before swinging down from the middle station to land softly on the brown, fluffy ground.
Perhaps it was the continuous chanting that heightened the anticipation. Lala’s eldest son prepared to ascend the tower, a daunting task in itself, as he climbed to the highest platform. The shredded vines were carefully looped around both of his ankles. The wind was particularly strong that Wednesday, raising our concerns for the diver, but he appeared to thrive on the excitement.
After the dives, the atmosphere was filled with happiness and pride, and the divers eagerly posed for photos. Every diver got a pamplemousse as price. We were once again invited to the chief’s hut, where we were treated to steamed manioc and cassava. Nilla shared a traditional Swedish song, and soon the women began conversing animatedly in their Saa language, a testament to the connections forged through music.
Back to Bema village
As our taxi arrived, the chief of the mountain village joined us for the journey to the shore. We felt immense gratitude towards Lala Worasul tour guide and all those involved in providing us with such an unforgettable cultural experience. Upon arriving at the beach, we discovered that the Bema villagers had gathered their harvest, preparing it for transport on the next boat bound for the island. With heartfelt thanks—“Anto,” meaning thank you in the Saa language—we bid farewell to the community.
A wonderful and amazing experience you will remember for the rest of your lives as well as an interesting and entertaining read for us who weren’t there. I am sure not everyone arriving on the island gets this VIP treatment so I can understand you feeling so honoured by the experience. Thanks for sharing!
Yes, we were so lucky that the winds were favourable so we could sail there right on time and the bay gave protection so we could anchor and leave Yaghan during the day. It felt like visiting midsummer in Sweden as the only foreign guests. Thanks for reading!