Last century in Seattle

I made my first visit to Seattle in 1999. I stayed with Michael, a friend originally from Sydney, and his partner, Anthony. Michael had recently relocated to take on a bigger role with Microsoft at its headquarters in Seattle. I flew into San Francisco early on the morning of Friday, 9 April, cleared immigration and transferred onto a shuttle flight heading north.

I spent a week with the boys. They were gracious hosts, arranging regular excursions to experience all Seattle’s popular attractions. Anthony wasn’t working at the time, so he was a chauffeur and tour guide whenever Michael was at work. Although Michael took me onto the Microsoft campus one day to give me a taste of Silicon Valley life.

As a seasoned technology public relations consultant and former industry analyst, I certainly wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to visit the headquarters of one of the world’s most formidable tech giants. Michael took me through the Microsoft museum on campus. This was rather special as the building wasn’t open to the public. You needed a security pass to access it.

I vividly remember seeing a Radio Shack TRS-80 personal computer on display. Launched in 1977, it was one of the earliest mass-produced and mass-marketed retail home computers. It was also the same device on which I’d learned to code in BASIC in 1984. At the time, I was an exchange student studying at Syracuse, in upstate New York. My high school had a computer lab set up with dozens of these pioneering desktop computers.

I signed up for a Computer Studies elective and spent a semester creating some nifty applications. This includes programming a multiple-choice quiz about my home nation, New Zealand, and its culture. The program also featured a map of New Zealand built using highlighted pixel blocks. According to Wikipedia, the TRS-80 was the bestselling PC line until 1982, outselling the Apple II by a factor of five. It’s hard to believe this simple machine was once leading-edge technology.

Anthony also helped me get my geek on. We took a day trip up to the Boeing factory in Everett, a satellite city 40km north of Seattle. We booked ourselves onto a factory tour that took us through this massive complex. The factory is the world’s largest building by volume, covering 98 acres. Its ceiling stands 32 metres above the floor, and six hangar doors that are more than 100 metres wide. It contains six separate production lines with commercial aircraft standing nose-to-tail in various stages of assembly. You know a building is huge when it’s housing rows of Jumbo Jets but doesn’t feel claustrophobic.

Anthony and I somehow missed the start of the tour. We’d been exploring the Boeing Museum attached to the visitor’s centre and missed the guide calling everyone onto the tour bus. However, a staff member took pity on us and took on a golf cart to catch up with the rest of the group. The fastest way there was across the factory floor.  As a result, we got an unscheduled, close-up, ground-floor view of the assembly line in action. It was awesome.

On Monday, 12 April, Michael and Anthony bought tickets to see the Seattle Thunderbirds, a local team in the junior ice hockey league. The game was played at KeyArena, but to my surprise, it wasn't well attended. Most of the stadium was empty. At best, the attendance was barely 4,000. The Thunderbirds ultimately lost 4-0 to the TriCity Americans, another Washington State team. I still have the souvenir hockey puck I bought after the game.

Fun fact time. The stadium sits in the original 1962 World's Fair grounds, home to the city’s iconic Space Needle. The needle made for a memorable sight as we walked from the car park to the stadium. I can’t recall if we ever ventured up the tower during my time in Seattle.

One day, Anthony took it upon himself to anoint me as his personal shopper. We hit the stores and spend the day shopping for a whole new wardrobe for me. I eventually came home with a second suitcase filled to the brim. Michael wasn’t impressed; He later commented that his partner enjoyed spending other people’s money a little too much.

One afternoon, Anthony took me for a trip into the mountains east of Seattle, where the winter snow was still deep on the ground. I vividly recall driving on roads at the base of the ski fields that had been cleared by cutting deeply through the snowbanks. In places, the walls lining the road were three or four metres high. It was more like driving through a tarsealed canyon with vertical white walls.

I also made an impromptu visit to Tacoma Air Force Base, approximately an hour south of Seattle.  I met an armed serviceman from the Deep South at a nightclub.  He invited me back to visit the base. This was years before 9/11, as the security guards on duty at the base's entrance waved us through after a cursory check of my companion's military ID. I wasn't asked for any ID at all. How times have changed!

Towards the end of the week, Michael took me on a road trip to see some of Seattle’s iconic landmarks, including Lake Washington, Lake Union and the locks of the Shipping Canal that links the city’s lakes to Puget Sound. The locks also feature a nifty fish ladder that helps spawning salmon make their way upstream. 

At one point, we stopped for coffee at Pike Place Market, the city’s bustling produce and craft market located on a hillside along the shores of Puget Sound. Although if truth be told, our itinerary with plenty of outdoor venues was partially an excuse to take Bondi, Michael’s large Malamute dog, for his daily walk.

After an eventful week in Seattle, I packed my bags and flew back to San Francisco for my first-ever visit to the picturesque Bay Area. I share more about this experience in another retrospective post. Garry and I returned to Seattle for my second and last visit in 2012.

Home again

We’ve returned from our Vanuatu vacation. Our flight to Brisbane and on to Sydney passed without incident. As we approached Sydney, the flight tracking map on the Qantas Entertainment app provided some unexpected entertainment. As you can see below,  if the route traced on screen is to be believed, our pilot was flying under the influence of something. Our actual flight path was somewhat more accurately scribed by Flight Aware, an app I use regularly, as shown below.

Our final sunset in Vanuatu was also one for the record. Here it is in all its glory. It already feels like a dream.

Nanggol

That’s another item ticked off the bucket list. This morning, Garry and I visited Pentecost Island to witness its extraordinary Land Diving ritual firsthand. Known locally as Nanggol, this coming-of-age ceremony is renowned for its death-defying daredevil antics. It’s held for three months every year, from April until June. When I realised we’d be in Vanuatu during land diving season, I couldn’t let the opportunity pass.

It’s an unbelievable sight. Boys and men leap from a hillside tower built from freshly harvested timber with supple lianas tied to their ankles. The vine breaks the diver's initial momentum before a collapsible diving platform brings them to a halt as they hit the ground. Young boys use a platform closest to the ground, approximately 10 metres high, while older men leap from progressively higher platforms. The highest of these is up 30 metres above ground.

 

The ceremonial jump begins with locals singing and dancing to inspire and embolden each diver. They gather in traditional costumes at the top of the hill and proceed to sing, whistle and dance with considerable gusto as the ceremony progresses. A local guide explained that each diver chooses their own motivational song. The diver also ties and tests his own vine before each jump. They then ritually gesture to the sky in prayer, before launching themselves into the air.

The energy on the hillside is almost palpable as each dive begins. The speed at which they fall initially caught everyone by surprise, and the accompanying sounds are unnerving to say the least. This includes a rather solid thud as the diver hits the freshly tilled earth, and the startling crack of timber as the diving platform collapses. You can see the broken platforms dangling in the image above.

We learned that the ritual begins days in advance. The men seclude themselves from the women and refrain from sex. Furthermore, women are not allowed to go near the tower or touch. If they do so, they desecrate it, and the tower must be rebuilt. The construction of the tower typically takes between two and five weeks, so it’s not a task anyone wants to repeat unnecessarily. 

We learned that the divers are also seeking divine intervention for a bountiful yam harvest, rather than just invoking a coming-of-age ritual. In other words, the older men are literally diving for yams, rather than for their manhood. It adds a whole new meaning to the virtue of eating your vegetables when someone's put their life on the line for them.

The core of the tower is made from a lopped tree, while its outer framework is built from pole scaffolding tied together with vines, stabilising it. The final structure is both dramatic, chaotic and somehow robustly reassuring. Before the men dive, they often bring closure to unsettled business and disputes in case they die. The night before the jump, the divers sleep beneath the tower to ward off evil spirits.

These days, Pentecost locals perform dives as much for tourist entertainment as they do for an age-old ritual. Today, two planeloads, including Garry and me, flew in from Port Vila to watch a weekly diving display. The day began early. Garry and I were collected from Eratap Resort shortly before 6:00am. Our flight then departed around 8:30pm.

It took us about an hour and ten minutes to fly 225 kilometres north to Pentecost Island. Along the way, we flew over Cooks Reef (see the end of this post) and skirted the conical summit of Lopevi, an active volcanic island (shown above). Sadly, the summit was shrouded by clouds and steam, so we never saw the crater. However, for most of our flight, the weather was surprisingly sunny. For days now, the forecast had predicted persistent showers and heavy clouds, so this morning’s fine weather was very welcome.

Take off and landing were a little hair-raising as surface winds buffeted our rather well-worn twin-engine Britten-Norman BN-2 Islander. Coming into land at Pentecost was another highlight. Lonocore Airport has clearly seen better days. It was a simple affair. The airfield consisted of a modest concrete block hut and a sealed runway with a well-worn surface coated by a fine pebble sheen.

We were driven to the land diving site, seated in the open tray of a local Ute. The ceremony itself took about 1:45 hours to complete. We then returned to the airport, drove down the runway and onto the nearby beach for a simple picnic lunch. We then returned to Port Vila, landing shortly after 1:30pm.

As we flew south, I couldn't help but note how much of the Vanuatu archipelago has been shaped by volcanic activity. Old craters, ancient cinder cones and smoking summits can be seen from one island to the next. While many tourists are familiar with the spectacular active volcano on Tanna Island, the nation's volcanic heritage is just as dramatic and surprisingly pervasive elsewhere. You're left in no doubt that the Pacific Ring of Fire passes through this geologically active region.

It’s hard to believe this extraordinary feat of courage has been happening on Pentecost for centuries. Christian missionaries successfully convinced the locals to stop diving regularly in the mid-19th Century. For more than a century, ad hoc diving ceremonies occurred from time to time. However, after Vanuatu gained independence in 1980, the ritual was revived by Christian locals as a proud expression of cultural identity.

Perhaps the most infamous ad hoc diving event occurred when Queen Elizabeth II visited and observed the spectacle in 1974. Our local guide explained that the locals were persuaded to dive out of season, at a time of year when the vines aren’t sufficiently elastic. During the Queen’s ceremony, one diver had both lianas broken, broke his back upon hitting the ground, and later died in a hospital.

UPDATE: 14 June

We woke to pouring rain and gusty winds today. It rained relentlessly in a surprisingly heavy deluge until late evening. The Qantas flight from Brisbane even diverted to Noumea as conditions deteriorated (see below). It would appear we got lucky with yesterday’s sunny skies and near-perfect flying conditions.

Much Ado About Nothing

We continue to enjoy breezy but sunny weather in Vanuatu. It's wonderfully relaxing sitting in the shade, reading a book and listening to the waves onto Eratap's private white-sand beach. We've been for a brief swim most days. The water is refreshing but not overly cold. It would definitely feel a little warmer if we didn't have a gentle but persistent trade wind ebbing and flowing throughout the day.

Garry is loving the downtime.  However, it would be fair to say that I'm edging towards boredom today. There are only so many books and news websites I can read before I start to lose interest. I'm definitely going to have to find myself a decent hobby when I finally retire. Lying on the beach is not one of them!

We've enjoyed cocktails at sunset most evenings (G&T for Garry, and a Ginger-inspired Caprioska for me). The resort gave us a complimentary massage session yesterday (Garry's was good, while mine was mediocre).  Last night, we were treated to a spectacular Fire Dance performance during dinner. The show delivered an enthusiastic local group that lit up the beach with some spectacular moves.

We've also booked and confirmed a day trip to Pentecost Island. We're off to see the famous Land Diving Ceremony, the world's original bungee jumpers.  The land diving festivities take place between May and July each year. In other words, our visit to Vanuatu has been fortuitously timed. Watch this space.