From Shipwrecks to Whales: Our Journey to Epi Island
After what felt like a lifetime in Port Vila, we finally set off again, this time towards the adventures of Epi Island. Don’t get me wrong—Port Vila had its charms, but we were becoming locals! Our first stop was Port Havannah for a quick overnight. It’s just across from Moso Island, so I tried to get in touch with Jenny and Owen, hoping they’d pop by for a visit. No luck, sadly. My backup plan? The usually reliable bush telegram: maybe some curious locals would say ‘HALLO’ and pass the word to our Moso family that we were nearby.
That afternoon, we checked out the shipwreck of *Blue Gold*, a 50-metre superyacht tossed onto a reef during Cyclone Pam in 2015. We’d actually walked to the wreck when we stayed on Moso two weeks earlier, only to have the village chief tell us to either pay a photo fee or bugger off. This time, though, we had a much better view from the dinghy. Seeing that massive wreck stranded on the reef was a solid reminder of nature’s power. The crew had stayed aboard during the cyclone, thinking they could secure her—but, well, Pam had other ideas. Find out more about the full story HERE.
A local boat swung by later that evening, and we recognised the family from a church service back on Mosso. Unfortunately, it was too late to catch up properly, as we were set to leave early the next morning. So, sadly, we didn’t get to see our Mosso family one last time.
At dawn, we took off towards Epi, trying our hand at fishing along the way. (By ‘we’, I mean Mark—I’m mostly there to keep an eye on him in case of a man-overboard-while-holding-onto-a-fish situation.) There’s something so relaxing about sitting back, watching the waves, and hoping dinner catches itself. But alas, no fish for us that day.
We arrived at Epi just after lunch and made a beeline for land. The island was so quiet, hardly a soul around, but we managed to find a ‘gas station’ and a ‘bakery’. The smell of freshly baked bread drifted down the beach—it was impossible to resist. We grabbed a few warm loaves and took a wander along a brand-new concrete road, kindly “donated” by the Chinese government. After a solid three hours walking up to the village and back, we’d seen exactly two cars. Clearly, the island’s urgent traffic needs warranted that sizeable street! We left the Island via a pier half-demolished by Cyclone Pam—another testament to the 300 km/h winds that slammed these islands in 2015.
The next morning, we set off to hunt for dugongs. The weather wasn’t on our side—cloudy, rainy, and the water was murky. Dugongs, it seems, prefer a sunny day for their activities, but we gave it a shot anyway. Once we found a decent spot to anchor, two of us jumped in for a snorkel while Mark and I kept watch from the dinghy. Then the rain really started, and by the end, we were as soaked as if we’d gone in ourselves.
After abandoning the dugong mission, we went for a stroll around Lamen, a little island northwest of Epi, where we’d hoped to see the dugongs. It was stunning—exactly how you’d picture the Garden of Eden. Locals gave us a warm welcome and introduced us to a strange nut that looked like a feijoa before opening it and, funnily enough, tasted just like one too. We didn’t catch its real name, so we’ve dubbed it the Feijoa Nut.
A bit deflated about missing the dugongs, we headed back to the dinghy to return to the boat. Just as we were climbing in, we spotted a whale—a mother and calf, gliding right up close to the shore. We motored a bit closer and just watched them in awe as they swam up and down the bay. No dugongs, but honestly, that whale encounter made our day. Happy whales, happy days!
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