Vanuatu Trip Debrief.

Once upon a time there were 22 divers who promised to return to Vanuatu a year after their initial visit. A short trip was planned. A quick seven days, enough to dive the Coolidge and not break the household budget. Only two, out of that twenty-two did make the journey, and I am hear to rub in the noses of the others what an incredible trip it was. Twelve of us left Sydney, our destination, Espiritu Santo (a northern island in the Vanuatu chain). The Americans during the Second World War used this island as a military base. Now it is used by divers as a staging point in order to dive a most amazing shipwreck: The S.S. President Coolidge.

The Coolidge (as it is known) was launched as a cruise liner with fine appointments and luxurious fittings. But during the Second World War, the American government commandeered the vessel and converted it to a troop carrier. It was during these troop movements where she came to find herself visiting Vanuatu. 

Whilst on root to safe harbour, she struck an allied mine, then another. With the ship fatally wounded the captain ran her up on the beach to egress the five thousand troops safely. Sadly for her, yet great for us, she slipped back into the water where she still rests today.

This is why we have returned to Vanuatu. Our mission was to sneak aboard our Air Vanuatu flight without arousing suspicion. You see, after last year’s trip, we are sort of, how can I say this…. Um…. were banned from flying with them in the future. Oh well, looks like they needed the business. The next trick was to catch the connecting flight to Santo, which they so graciously moved forward on us (in the last few days before flight). A quick sprint, a bit of sweat and hey presto, our luxurious air coach was waiting for us.

The day had been long enough as it was. The thought of the hotel so close and that first cocktail being gently sipped beside the pool, gave everyone a second wind. The night lasted a little bit longer than anyone ever expected. The group’s first dive was to give them an orientation to the actual size of this huge ship (something which they will remember forever). As the separate groups approached their deco stops, you could see the smiles bursting forth from beneath their regulators. Although a few were bursting forth from a borrowed regulator as their anxiety level resulted in them having to borrow air from their dive guides. Ah, I remember my first time as well. (And my first dive.)

The smiles grew wider and stayed longer as the exploration on this massive ship increased. Confidence grew, and depths became deeper and dives became longer. The lady was visited several times, bathrooms were explored, jeeps were driven and fish were fed. Groups explored the Engine room, medical supplies, the 20mm cannons, Promenade deck, holds 1 and 2, soda fountain, Galley, Swimming pool, Propeller shafts, Holds six and seven, Doctors office, Captains bathroom and anything else you could squeeze into a quick week. The highlight of the trip would have been the groups’ night dive, where the dive was illuminated wholly by millions of flash light fish. Their electro-luminescence made it feel like you were floating through space (an experience too great for words). Something you have to do in your diving life. I’ll say it again. Something you have to do!!!!

As the week was drawing to a close. Birthdays needed celebrating and celebrate we did. The best thing about it, no diving the next day. The only draw back….a two-hour bus ride to Champagne bay. Hung over, hot and cramped do not work well with me. A relief would have been the understatement of the century. None of us wanted to get back into that bus to head home. Sighs were cast and fingertips were screening the window as we lost sight of the picturesque beach. Nnnnooooooooo. Next stop, the blue holes. A fresh water bath to wash off the sand, sweat and dust that we were encrusted in, Aahhh.

Reality was on its way. A day to get back to Sydney is not a fun schedule. First stop Santo International Airport. First problem, no driver to get the bags there. Ok, let me at the wheel, next problem, where’s the airport again. Second grief mission for the day, and it wasn’t even 8 am yet. Trusty old Vanair overbooked the flight. Three of us had to miss the scheduled morning flight and catch the milk run, all the way back to Vila. A two-hour wait, then a two-hour flight back to Vila (a flight that should have only lasted 50 minutes). Why did I put my hand up for this? At least the girls were having fun.

With the three of us arriving back in Vila at 1.50pm, when check in started at 1pm was not cool. A quick check in, a taxi into town for a feast on a big fella burger (something you have to try to understand) then a made dash back to catch the last boarding call for our final flight of the day. Please check our names in the Guinness book of records for the most take offs and landing in one day. Most of them on uphill grass runways.

My thanks go out to the participants of this years Coolidge trip. Hassan, Sandy, Mick, Dave, Rob, Ziggy, Lita, Leisa, Michelle, Kylee and Shaughan. P.S. Shaughan farts and snores in his sleep, but I forgave him, because he knows Danny Devito. Trip Photos.