WOW!!

5 May Espiritu Santo, Vanuatu. Saturday and Sunday were 2 of the best days of my life. I was part of a 16-person medical team that went by 2 helicopters (MH-60S Knight Hawk) to work remote clinical sites. The 2 villages are on the coast and otherwise accessible only by boat (beach landing) or foot/horse. Some logistical complications on Saturday led to the helicopters landing on the black sand beach some distance from the originally planned site. So we hiked with the supplies about 10 minutes to the village nearest our landing, and set up clinic in a tiny church, with registration outside under a huge mango tree. A member of the tribe used a shell to call the villagers to the church to announce that the clinic would be held there. The people were shy but after the first brave ones stepped forward we had a steady stream of patients all day. I collected childhood vaccination and malaria infection information for a country database. In the process I started learning some Pidgin English spoken by the locals (“Wanem nem blong you?” means “What’s your name?”). They served us a lunch of yams, manioc, taro greens, pork, plaintains(?), and coconut, which we sampled to supplement our MREs. Their ailments were similar to those we saw in Tonga - ear infections, joint pain, repetitive motion injuries, skin infections, dental and eyesight problems. Lack of dental hygiene results in rotten teeth, and the working conditions for the dentists and dental techs were difficult because the patients needed to be seated in folding camp chairs that we carried in. The landing logistics were solved for the second day and the helicopters landed on a grassy plot at the originally planned site. We hiked a short distance and set up clinic in 2 thatched huts and a church under large trees in a village common area just 40 yards from the breaking surf. The patients were waiting for us that day and there was no hesitation to stepping forward. You couldn’t wipe the smiles off our faces all day long. Again our hosts prepared a lunch for us, and we shared a few extra MREs with them. We were fortunate to have a vacationing young couple from Tasmania assist us as interpreters - they had heard while in Luganville that we would be coming to the area and they kayaked in to help since they’ve become fluent in Pidgin. At the end of the day there was a kava ceremony where the tribal chief presented our team leader with a 7-foot long carved barbed spear to honor our visit. I’m sure that the villagers, like the medical team, will talk of these days for years.

The 30-40 minute helicopter ride each way was awesome. Santo is primarily rugged mountains, with the tallest peak 6000 ft elevation, and covered with dense jungle. The pilots gave us thrilling rides zipping around the ridges and out over the ocean, but the photos through the windows aren’t as great as the actual view because the doors to the cargo/personnel compartment had to be kept closed due to the cargo. Dense clouds on one of the trips made finding a safe route through the mountains a challenge for the pilots. The propellers stirred up the sand for a free dermabrasion during the first day’s beach landing not more than 20 yards from the breaking surf, and it took a while that night to clean the black sand out of our hair and ears. I’m fairly certain that I saw blooming epiphytes in some of the tree tops but I can’t be certain that they were orchids.

Monday was a liberty day and I went ashore with some of the dental folks to a lovely resort to relax, swim in the pool, and have a massage. Dinner at a French restaurant was a treat - escargot appetizer and warm chocolate souffle for dessert were divine. An adventurous person in our party ordered the “flying fox” (fruit bat) entrée, which was served with head on and big teeth showing - looked like a pterodactyl on a plate. She said it tasted like chicken, of course.

I worked patient registration/triage on Tuesday and Wednesday at the hospital in Luganville. This hospital is larger and has more services than the hospital in Vava’u. The days were draining as we saw nearly 800 patients on Tuesday, the weather was oppressively hot and humid, and I was coming down with a massive head and chest cold (respiratory illness seems pervasive on the ship). But the Navy rock band showed up on Wednesday to play for a couple hours near our outdoor triage area, and that definitely added a cheerful touch - my patient and I sang along together to Van Morrison’s “Brown-Eyed Girl” as I took her vital signs (I'm surprised that she seemed to know some of the words), and the patients in the registration queue laughed as the nurses and corpsmen played air guitar and danced the twist and bump.

I’m laying low for a day with this respiratory crud and hope to enjoy shore leave the next day or two.
Cheers!