CHANGE OF PLAN

LEAVING AUSTRALIA, MARIANNE URTH NEVER PLANNED TO MAKE LANDFALL IN THE ISLANDS OF VANUATU, BUT THE EXPERIENCE WAS MAGICAL

- MARIANNE URTH

I'm looking up at an almost naked young man 60 feet in the air. He's balancing on a platform built of sticks and branches, raised on a mountain top in the Vanuatuan jungle. All you can see from here is fluorescent green treetops covered in cascades of lush vines, while deep below us, far away in another world, lies the dark blue Pacific Ocean.

Men and women wear traditional dress, penis sheaths and grass skirts, and chant and dance next to the tower.

My eyes go back to the young man on the platform. He's chanting now, spreading his arms out, his ankles tied to two vines cut to the exact length so when he jumps his shoulder will just touch the rich, dark volcanic soil below. We are about to witness the land diving ritual, nagol, which is performed each year between April and June to ensure a bountiful yam harvest.

The singing gets louder. My eyes are transfixed on his body. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, arcs his spine backwards and slowly lets his body fall into the open space.

He crashes down into the dirt right in front of me with a loud thump. Two men rush to cut his ankles free and pull him up. Now I can see he is just a boy. He stumbles back to the other dancers. I remember to breathe but my heart is still racing. It's crazy and dangerous, a ritual from another time and only performed here on Pentecost Island, one of 83 islands that make up the South Pacific nation of Vanuatu. The only way to visit it is by yacht.

Exploring the South Pacific has been my dream since I was 19 years old and read books written by Danish hippie, Troels Kloevedal, who sailed around the world with friends and family in the 1970s in an old gaff-rigged schooner. He visited remote places where the locals would welcome him in dugout canoes and offer fruit in exchange for anything he could spare.