How Sanma discovered sobriety by accident (and why it’s not funny at all).
Somewhere in Vanuatu right now, a chilly esky is being opened with the confidence of a man who believes in civilisation—only to reveal the grim truth: ice… and hope. No Tusker Premium. No familiar green bottle. Just the soft rattle of disappointment.
In Sanma, they don’t call this a “supply issue.” They call it “rod i no i no stret. Cun, wanem antap!”
And they’re right.
Because when Tusker Premium—the beer that has basically served as the national handshake—vanishes, it’s not just a missing product. It’s a missing rhythm. A missing punctuation mark at the end of kava. Switching to Kale.
And yes: the irony is thick enough to bottle. Tusker has been missing since Valentine’s Day—which means half the country has spent the last weeks learning that love is patient, love is kind, and love sometimes has to drink lemon like a tourist.
The funny part (if you’re not thirsty)
A “province with no beer” sounds like a joke someone tells at a nakamal:
“Wan man i go long sto… olgeta samting i stap, be bia i no stap.”
“Olsem wanem?”
“Hem i Vanuatu. Hem i normal… taswe hem i nogud.”
Except it’s not normal. Not when the main local beer is the one missing.
The serious part: why a beer shortage is never just about beer
Let’s be blunt: when Tusker goes missing, it’s not because a few people forgot to order a pallet.
The clearest thread running through recent reports and chatter is that Vanuatu Brewing Limited has had production disruptions linked to earthquake damage—specifically the big December quake that hammered Efate and Port Vila.
That quake wasn’t a headline that came and went. It was a structural punch to the guts of the capital’s economy. It killed people, flattened buildings, and upended life for tens of thousands, with rebuilding still dragging a year on.
And when Port Vila takes a hit, the provinces feel it later—like the aftershock of a supply chain.
What’s really behind Vanuatu Brewing’s problems?
I’ll lay it out like a bar tab you can’t ignore.
1) Single point of failure (the island version)
If one major brewery carries a nation’s “everyday beer,” then any serious disruption becomes national news—whether the newsreader notices or not. One plant slows down, and suddenly Santo is hosting the first ever Dry July in March.
2) The earthquake didn’t just break buildings—it broke momentum
Post-disaster economies don’t fail politely. They fail in parts: a machine down here, a warehouse constraint there, a wharf problem, a parts shipment delayed, a contractor unavailable, cashflow tightening.
Even broader business data after the December quake showed food and beverage businesses were among the hardest hit, with major impacts on employment and operations. That’s the environment any manufacturer is trying to operate inside.
3) Logistics: “Back Soon” is a whole national policy
Vanuatu is beautiful because it’s remote. It’s also expensive because it’s remote. Every spare part, every specialist technician, every packaging input, every shipping delay—those aren’t footnotes. They’re the plot.
And a province isn’t “next door.” A province is a boat, a plane, a wharf schedule, a fuel bill, a pallet, and someone’s cousin who swears the container arrived yesterday.
4) Transparency (or the lack of it) turns a shortage into a rumour factory
Here’s the problem: when people don’t get clear, consistent updates, they create their own.
In Vanuatu, that’s not paranoia. That’s community journalism.
So instead of one calm statement—“Here’s what broke, here’s the timeline, here’s what we’re prioritising”—you get:
quiet shops,
louder Facebook,
and a million micro-theories, ranging from “container stuck” to “someone sold it all to the cruise ships.”
The political punchline nobody wants
A country can survive without beer. (So I’m told. I’ve never seen the evidence.)
But when a local flagship product disappears for weeks, it exposes the bigger truth: we are still running provincial life on fragile systems that assume Port Vila is always fine, shipping always works, and equipment never breaks.
The earthquake proved the opposite. The empty shelves are just the echo.
What should happen next (if we want fewer “province with no beer” headlines)
A straight, regular public update from Vanuatu Brewing: what happened, what’s fixed, what isn’t, and realistic timelines.
Supply prioritisation that respects the provinces—because Santo isn’t a “nice-to-have.” It’s half the country’s future tourism story.
Resilience planning: redundancy in key machinery, spares strategy, and disaster-proofing the unglamorous parts (packaging, bottling, warehousing, distribution).
A national conversation about how quickly one shock in Port Vila becomes a cost-of-living event everywhere else.
Until then, Sanma will continue its unintended wellness retreat: fresh air, blue water, and the emotional experience of ordering “anything you’ve got” and being handed something imported at a price that feels like a small bank loan.
Which is funny.
Right up until it isn’t.