The grandson of the last cannibal in Vanuatu shares his family's extraordinary story with an astonished Diana Balham.
Justin is a gorgeous chap. He's from Malekula, one of Vanuatu's less-visited islands, famed for its two main tribes, the Big Nambas and the Smol Nambas. The difference is -and there's no polite way to say this - Big Nambas men wear large leaves wrapped around their penises and Smol Nambas men wear more modest ones.
Justin is a member of Big Nambas but, today, he's wearing capacious board shorts and a T-shirt. We meet him on the comparatively hectic island of Efate (Vanuatu's most populous and home to its capital, Port Vila) where he is a tour guide. He takes us to Lololima Cascades on a large tract of land the Catholic Church owns, where we will be able to frolic in the river and jump into its deep, natural pools.
Sure enough, the cascades look pretty inviting and soon we're edging across sandstone terraces and leaping like happy lemmings into the water. The air temperature is in the mid-20s but Justin says the water's too cold for him and watches us with wry amusement. Suddenly he whips off his T-shirt and comes pounding through the water, whooping and waving his arms. He performs a spectacular somersault into the pool, comes up grinning and climbs out.
This is surprise number one. In the middle of a cheery conversation about island life, he informs me that his grandfather was the last cannibal in Vanuatu. That was in 1969. As my holiday brain computes this shockingly recent date, he tells me the story of Maqaaly, who was from a Big Nambas village on Malekula.