THE LOUISIADE ARCHIPELAGO

(PART 2)

Hugh Garnham

Continuing the story of Glenshiel VII's cruise from Australia to the Louisiade Archipelago where, as Hugh says, `time has stood still'. A more general chartlet will be found on page 116 of Flying Fish 1997/1).

Next morning our mine tour vehicle was to arrive at 0830, but we finally got away at 1045 to view what is claimed to be one of the most efficient open cut gold mines in the world. We only got a superficial view, but it was very interesting and the 40 litres of fuel to take away made the trip well worthwhile. Back at the village we found that our gas bottle could not be filled because of differing fittings, but by using our own fittings to decant from 10.5kg to 4.5kg bottles we were able to have our 10.5kg bottle topped up. Fresh bread rolls for lunch and half a dozen fresh loaves to take away completed our shopping -- the bread, baked fresh every day, would put the French to shame. Water was a different story. We filled three 20 litre containers from three different taps, but none was potable and we doubted if it would be safe even if boiled.

Having finished ship's chores we caught a bus to the northwest side of Misima, a journey of about 40 kilometres on a winding dirt road through wonderful tropical scenery. At the village of Siagara the journey terminated and we five were the only ones on board. The driver was talking to two teenage girls when one of them glanced at the bus and screamed `dim-dims' (the term for white people) and hid in mock fright. She soon emerged, giggling. The fare for the trip was 2 kina each way, very good value.

Next morning we left for Bagaman Island. The wind was, of course, south-southeasterly and a very strong ebb tide at Wurri-Wurri Passage cut our speed over the ground to 2 knots, but we still managed to drop anchor off the village of Oisi about 1600. We had caught a 5ft kingfish on the way in, so kept a fillet for ourselves and gave the rest to Chief Gula who was soon alongside in his canoe. He suggested we anchor a little closer to his village to avoid the wind shears -- we did so and were glad we followed his advice. A very picturesque spot and very friendly locals, including young Morris whom we had met previously at other anchorages.

The following day we took several of the villagers trolling and hooked a very large fish, which unfortunately broke the steel swivel before it could be gaffed. Even so, a barbecue lunch ashore found us feeding about fifteen men and children. During lunch I was using a rough pair of twigs as chopsticks to eat some fish which much amused the locals. A few moments later Morris had whittled two perfect chopsticks and handed them to me with a beaming smile. We then visited the village garden, more trading for canoes and baggi, the local shell money, and fresh vegetables and pawpaw and were given a demonstration of baggi making, a most laborious occupation.

Next morning we motored to Pana Numara Island after buying more baggi, the only goods for which kina was requested. We trolled lines all the way but did not get a strike. It didn't matter -- the weather was perfect and the vista around every point seemed even more attractive. Arriving at the anchorage we anchored some distance from the village and were soon joined by the usual canoes and two youths. This time, however, the matter was more serious -- a young woman in the village had cut her foot with an axe that morning and could we help? `Doc', of course, agreed to come immediately so we collected all our ship's medical equipment and, towing the canoe, soon arrived at the village. Emily was about twenty and had a gash in her foot that required three stitches which were soon deftly in place, with Hugh acting as Des's assistant.

We met Bernard George shortly afterwards. He is well educated and well spoken and was there to attend a meeting of the local community council, held in the open air. A lively and spirited affair it was too! This was the largest village we had visited so far and was very neat and tidy. There was a school class being conducted for the children, who sat crosslegged in row after row and copied the writing on the blackboard extremely neatly. They were about seven or eight years old and most attentive. Emily was asleep, with her foot elevated as instructed, so we returned to Glenshiel for lunch and a siesta. It was sobering to ponder what would have happened to Emily had we not arrived. The village had no first aid equipment or drugs at all, nor anyone with knowledge of how to use them. Paradise is not always what it seems!

However next morning, fine and clear as usual, saw us motoring towards Para Krusima Island to bring down the deepfreeze and maybe catch a few fish, when a native canoe dropped its sail and waved us over. In charge was Tas, the lad who had first asked us to help Emily. He and his crew had four large painted crayfish, which cost us two T-shirts and a packet of cigarettes. Quick as a flash Bill and Des were into the canoe to go crayfishing, while the rest of us meandered over to the anchorage at Abaga Gaheia Island. This had the usual picturesque village and a sandy beach with multiple bommies, but no way could we find a clear spot to anchor, so we slowly fore-reached back to where we had last seen our shipmates and eventually saw them pushing off from the beach in the canoe. They had had their fill of sun and sand, had one more crayfish, and admitted that they were quite unable to see the cray although the natives could see plenty and also free-dived for about twice as long as they could.

Once again anchored at Para Numara, Bill and Des had a siesta while the rest of us cooked the crayfish ashore. We had quite a feast that evening. Next day, Sunday, we trolled for fish for a couple of hours, had several strikes, but didn't land anything and returned to the anchorage in time to attend the local church service. We checked Emily again, and not only found her much recovered but also using a beautifully made pair of crutches complete with a form of crutch tip that looked most professional. After the Sunday school and church service we were introduced by the celebrant, Bernard George, to the entire congregation. Balloons were distributed to the children with the promise of more to come that afternoon if they cared to visit us while we had a barbecue lunch ashore. Sure enough groups of children, singing happily, made their way along the shore and soon Bill had organised a choir who sang beautifully for balloons and a hamburger each, all faithfully recorded on video and film.

After lunch we walked across the island to the windward side, mostly following a wooden fence erected by the natives as a community effort to keep the feral pigs away from half the island which they used as their garden. Bill had a swim in the somewhat cooler and rougher water, then back on board for happy hour. We had learnt that Tuesday was Remembrance Day, a public holiday. Des was due to fly out and Leo fly in, and as we were not sure we would be able to clear customs we had the prospect of another day anchored in Bwagaoia Harbour.

At 0830 next morning Des paid a final visit to Emily and we set sail for Misima. Arriving in the harbour we found Spirit of Shadowfax also at anchor. Going ashore we were told that Monday was also a public holiday so everything was shut, but a large spanish mackerel presented to Damos, the customs official, which he shared with the local meteorological officer, soon had the promise of gas and diesel fuel being available the next day at 0800. They did open, but not until 1030, and did a roaring trade in diesel, petrol and kerosene, all dispensed from 44 gallon drums and every litre meticulously measured. Diesel cost 98 kina for 100 litres straight into your own containers, and when we filtered it into the tanks it appeared very clean and we found no contamination at all.

The meteorological officer drove us to the airport where Des was duly dispatched and Leo Foley welcomed to the crew. As requested he had brought a good load of fresh vegetables, including potatoes, and as on these flights the passenger and baggage are weighed together he had been charged for 50kg of excess weight. We didn't have the heart to tell him that fresh potatoes had just arrived at the `supermarket'.

A final meal at the guest house rounded out the day. The manager, David, was a great help, arranging showers and allowing the use of his phone for collect calls home as the public phone was most unreliable. He also had his staff do our laundry, and supplied us with as much fresh rainwater in our own containers as we wanted. So we were all ready to leave, with full tanks of fuel, water and gas, Damos arrived to clear customs for us at 0930 and all we had to do was get fresh bread and buy our departure tax stamps at the post office.

`Departure tax stamps? Yes sir, I have one; 15 kina, thanks.' `But we want five!' `Oh, wait I will see.' Ten minutes later, `It will be alright, I have ordered one hundred from Alatou. They will be here tomorrow'. Bill then said, `But we have a sick crewman on board and must leave today'. `Oh'. Back into the rear room and, ten minutes later with a beaming smile, four more stamps. We paid and asked no questions and went straight to the bakery to see if we could get our bread a little earlier than the usual twelve noon. Sorry, they said, the flour didn't arrive from Australia so we don't know when there will be any bread!

When we cleared the harbour entrance at noon the weather looked fair. Soon we had 30 knots across the deck, but were able to lay our course and in five hours dropped anchor at Samuel Abel's village on Bagaman Island. However we did not like the aspect at all, so launching the dinghy we took our gifts of a watch and solar powered calculator ashore and left for Chief Gula's village around the next point, a much better anchorage.

Ashore next morning we purchased baggi, rice, cigarettes, writing paper and T-shirts, received a bag of mixed lemon and limes and proceeded to Pana Numara Island, had a barbecue ashore, spoke to Bernard George who had collected a canoe-load of copra, and then relaxed in `island mode' while Bill and Leo went hill climbing. Bernard had removed the stitches from Emily's foot the previous day, and we invited him for dinner together with Warren, the school teacher, and they arrived with David, the trainee school teacher. However Bill's culinary skills rose to the occasion, and the eight of us dined magnificently on chicken, rice and mushrooms, washed down with an appropriate chilled white wine.

Next day we went ashore to deliver mail which Leo had bought from Alan and Erica Johnston of Hobart, who had cruised the Louisiades in Camira the previous year. To our surprise, the recipient turned out to be Emily, whose foot Des had stitched. Her wound had healed well and there appeared to be no complications. Having delivered the mail, we walked to the end of the village, met Bernard, his wife and three daughters and made our farewells. Back at the dinghy, Emily had written a letter for us to take back to Hobart, and then it was off to Gigila Island in a moderate nor'easter. Dropping anchor at 1400 in 30ft we were soon boarded by Xavier and his brother, John Bosco, followed shortly after by wives and children -- who swarmed everywhere, but ever so politely. Bill, Leo and Geoff went off fishing for coral trout and red emperor, and we placed orders for crayfish and crabs the next day.

Next morning there were rain clouds on the horizon -- great excitement as they came closer. Just then Tas and his wife and adopted baby son came alongside, seeking cough medicine for the baby and something for his sister's sore stomach. He asked for amoxylin but we gave him panadol. Then Elizabeth and Benedicta arrived with a nice crayfish, two eggs and two pawpaws for which they received rice, a T-shirt and tobacco. Then the rain arrived in bucketfuls. The first true test of our water-gathering awning and it passed with flying colours. Geoff, our resident water specialist, was delighted with his catch of about 20 litres. The rest of us had fresh water showers, though not as complete as we would have liked with the ladies on board. However a later shower allowed salt water ablutions followed by an excellent rainwater rinse. Then the clouds disappeared and the temperature shot to 33øC with high humidity, which kept our village visit to a minimum, but it is a very neat and tidy village only three families and nine children in all, who once again received balloons and the odd T-shirt.

Back on board the senior citizens enjoyed some opera choruses whilst Bill and Leo, the youngsters, explored the shoreline. Dinner that evening was a full roast prepared by Bill on the barbecue-cum-oven, preceded by an entree of barbecued crayfish. Delicious! Benedicta and John Bosco paddled alongside just before the main course was served with two fish which we didn't really want, but we took them anyway. More T-shirts! They had definitely found the `cargo cult' ship, but we didn't mind -- they were all such nice people. Bill invited them to stay for dinner, which lasted until 2230. They told us it was the first time they had been invited to dine on a visiting yacht. Their table manners were impeccable and their conversation interesting. However, just as they were leaving, another canoe loomed out of the darkness. The folks ashore must have been getting worried.

A torrential downpour during the night saw another 40 litres of water in the tanks but by dawn it was a fine if slightly cooler. The final visit by Benedicta, just as we had commenced hauling the anchor, saw more baggi change hands and our first artifact, a baggi drill which trader Leo, having no kina, exchanged for a T-shirt. Then off under power -- the tyranny of the deep freeze which, being full of meat, constantly influenced our movements, plus the inability to get more diesel, meant that we tried to gain a few miles towards the east rather than just burn fuel sitting at anchor, especially as there had been a noticeable lessening in the wind strength. Our next destination was Hessessai Bay, hopefully in time to participate in the local Sunday church services.

Until now we had been sailing on the weather side of the islands in the prevailing southeasterlies, but this morning our course took us to the leeward side and the breeze switched to a light northerly. Obviously good living pays dividends! It was a clear passage until the approach past Hessessai Island, where eyeball navigation through the reefs took over. There were a number of sailing canoes in the area and one, almost becalmed, was heading in our direction. We decided to offer them a tow and find out which of the three villages was holding the church service. They waved, we waved back, they waved again and then we noticed they were poling along! Looking into the morning sun we saw the shoals, so waited until they came alongside and gladly accepted a tow into the bay. They were going to school on the opposite side of the anchorage, over coral reefs. We came to rest in 18ft with clear sand -- the first time without bommies all round for some time.

After going ashore and seeking the usual permission to visit the village we were told the service was in another village about a mile away across the mangrove flats. Bill and Leo set off at a brisk pace, while we three followed in a stately fashion more suited to the distance and temperature. Eventually we arrived to find the service being held in the open air by a catechist. The congregation, sitting on the ground on old pieces of plastic, moved along to make room for us. A moving gesture. At the conclusion they all shook our hands, intoning `Peace be with you'.

Then they all settled down to betel nuts, lime and mustard, while we walked back to our dinghy and then ashore to the third village, Nime Banebane, where we were given permission to have a barbecue lunch. Following the meal, an impromptu game of soccer saw Bill and Leo playing with rival teams of children provide great amusement for young and old. Bill then asked young John paddle him back to Glenshiel in a dugout canoe to collect sweets for distribution to all and sundry, a task successfully accomplished to the amazement of us all. Bill is BIG and the canoe was SMALL.

On board once more we were invaded by the entire juvenile population of the village bearing trade goods -- eggs, pawpaw, shells and such like, for which we traded soap and fish hooks. Then they all sang while Bill recorded the smiling, harmonious group on video. During the night the wind came in from south-southeast causing a little more roll than we had been used to, but the rain provided another 20 litres of fresh water.

About 1100 we decided to motor to Wannum or Grassy Island, and anchored in front of a village which looked particularly attractive and where we had another letter to deliver. This village, we knew, had burnt to the ground a year ago. The local boys soon arrived alongside and after a drink of cold cordial Geoff told them to `pop off' while we had lunch. Siesta then for the senior citizens while Leo and Bill, after being ferried ashore, went hill climbing with the children. Crayfish and pineapples were ordered for trading, and the rest of us went ashore at 1600, hopefully as things got a little cooler.

The idyllic appearance of the village was somewhat diminished when we found a `modern' village store, very clean and neat and well stocked with all the basic foods, T-shirts, kerosene and the like. The owner, Andrew, was very proud of his office and storeroom and the spotless linoleum floor. The prices seemed to be cheaper than we had paid in Townsville. We walked around the point to another village whose inhabitants specialized in repairing canoes and were hard at work attaching an old outrigger log to a main hull with new timber and vine lashings.

After dinner Peter and Esta arrived to collect the mail we had bought from Hobart, and before long there were five canoes tied up astern and about thirty people on deck enjoying our hospitality. They told us we were the first yacht to give them a beer or a social occasion on board. At about 2200 we asked Noah, who had acted as guide on Bill and Leo's walking tour, to suggest that it was time we all went to bed and off they went, quick as a flash.

Next morning, at 0900 as promised, Peter and Esta returned with mail for us to take back to Hobart and trader Bill secured a nice baggi necklace for a pair of shorts! Leo's guilty social conscience prompted him to distribute largess left, right and centre to redress a perceived imbalance in trade. Meanwhile our hard working skipper had decided to fill some of the dents in the hull as a stop-gap prior to our return passage to Australia, and whilst rummaging in the stores locker sliced his thumb fairly deeply. He decided not to administer stitches but to tape the wound tightly, and then returned to his bunk to rest while the crew motored to the catholic mission station at Nimoa Island, and dropped anchor in a 30ft patch right next to the mission boat Morning Star II. A beautiful day and this spot -- wait for it -- was even more scenic, although the anchorage suffered from a little more roll than we felt we should endure so we decided we would not spend the night there.

During lunch the motor launch Warina from Bwagoia with three retired Australian engineers on board came into view. They were obviously working hard on their painted crayfish research project, as they conducted a high speed grid pattern search and disappeared as fast as they had arrived. Going ashore we met Father Sims who was to return to Rossell Island on the launch. He showed us around as he was unable to find the resident priest or sisters. The mission was quite extensive and had a large church and a school with 107 pupils, plus a spotless hospital catering for maternity patients (four), outpatients and minor surgical inpatients. This was all connected by sellcall to the Milne Bay administration centre in Alatoau. A well stocked store had everything but bread.

We went on board the mission boat and discussed anchorages with the captain, who was very friendly and helpful. On his advice we moved further round the point and anchored for the night in 30ft in a fairly narrow gutter between some large bommies. During breakfast next day Chief Leo came alongside with his sick granddaughter, whom he was taking to the mission hospital. He had his exercise book which he used as a visitors' book, some yams and baby tomatoes for which we traded soap and T-shirts. The last visiting yacht had left three days before us.

We then motored across to Badi Bay, a government station where we hoped to obtain bread. Timaimia, Bernard George's sister was the breadmaker. The first person we spoke to on the jetty was her daughter. `No bread', she said `as we are out of flour and it has to come from Alatou, but speak to my father'. This we did, discovering we had already met him on Pana Numana. `Plenty of bread at the mission station', he said, `as well as diesel. One of my boys will take you across in the fast boat'. This was one of the Yamaha-powered fibreglass fast workboats which we had seen many times.

Bill and Leo went for the trip while the rest of us walked to the government building and airstrip, which is now serviceable but has no scheduled flights. Leo and Bill arrived back with the diesel -- but no bread. They had two dozen bread rolls, but they were not bread.

They had met Father Matthew, the Papua New Guinea priest and a great guy, and he had invited us to a mass to celebrate the feast of St Anne, patron saint of the local school on Sudest Island. The mass was to be held on Friday at Dumaga Bay, so instead of moving to Hata Lauwi harbour for the night we plugged against a fresh sou'easterly towards Hasia Point. However it freshened to 20 knots and, not being too certain of the anchorage in these conditions, we bore away for Hati Lawi Bay where we came to anchor at 1500 in 30ft. We saw no sign of the reported resident crocodile but shoals of fish were evident everywhere. This was a well sheltered bay with no locals, so we had an uninterrupted happy hour and a good nights sleep.

Next morning we awoke to a glassy anchorage and not much sign of any wind outside, so set off at 0815 down the southeast coast of Sudest (or Tagula) Island. It was tricky navigation, most of it from the masthead, as reefs appeared that were not on the chart and several that were marked were not sighted by us, particularly off the mouth of Hinai Bay where we stopped for lunch. What looked like a very sheltered anchorage turned out to have extensive coral reefs which prevented us tucking in as far as we would have liked, so we decided to press on to Dunaza Bay for the night. Just as we were finishing lunch a knock on the topside signalled the arrival of Silas and his crew. They were on their way to Dunaza Bay with a sick person for treatment, so after some very pleasant socializing we set off with them in tow. The wind was light but a dead muzzler, so they were grateful for the ride.

At the entrance to the bay Bill, Leo and Geoff, together with Silas, transferred to the canoe and sailed into harbour leaving Alan and Hugh to be piloted by Fred, a resident big-wig. The bay became very shallow and we eventually dropped the anchor in 7ft at dead low tide on a clear sandy bottom, the first such in the Louisiades -- and this our last anchorage! We had already arranged with Silas to use a fast fibreglass workboat with a 40hp outboard to travel up the Iyuba River to a waterfall and view crocodiles on the way. Ashore we saw the skin of an 8ft croc being salted down for drying and eventual sale for about 300 kina.

A beautiful evening, with a breeze that came in from the northwest at about 5 knots and a 10øC drop in temperature, ensured a good night's sleep. Then at 0730 Silas was alongside in a canoe to tell us that everything started happening at 0800, so a mad rush ensued to be ashore in time. We should have known better because the first event, mass, got underway at 1010, but the welcome, the service and the singing were well worth the wait. After mass, handshakes all round, and thanks for our donation of rice and tinned tomatoes for the kai-kai feast to which we were invited, we were treated to tea and scones before a display of marching by the children in their traditional national dress, followed by four speeches, all of which included a welcome to us. It appears we were the first yacht to visit in two years. As this was our final village we gave away all our trade goods and anything else we could spare, including cigarettes, and it was pleasing to see everything, without exception, being shared.

Our crocodile trip was postponed until Saturday morning because of low tide, so after lunch we gathered as much reading material as we could muster to donate to the new school library which was being built, then stayed ashore for the feast at which we were honoured guests. The `Mululo', the giving of gifts to the school by various groups in the community, was scheduled from 1600 to 1700. It started at 1645 PNG time and continued until about 1730. There were twelve groups listed to donate goods or money and we were listed on the board as No 12 `Invited Guests'. Some groups appeared shyly and reluctantly, others made a big ceremony of the procession and donation. We tried to achieve a balance between both.

Over 120 kina and quite a few vegetables, rice and other foodstuffs were placed under the table, together with a trussed rooster who did not take at all kindly to being incarcerated. When that was over the Board of Governors of the school offered us a large bowl of yams which we declined with thanks as we had plenty of food. They then offered us a clay bowl which we accepted. The feast was served with blowing of conch shells as a signal to start and everyone sat on the ground between long rows of food, but the `invited guests' were seated at a long table complete with tablecloth, piled high with food. There was roast pig and chicken, rice and chicken, various forms of rice and vegetable mixtures, baked tapioca, boiled yams and sweet potatoes, as well as various flour dishes.

Two hours later we were still honoured guests at the concert which featured six items. Once again we were seated right in front where every act bowed to us before and after they performed. We presented T-shirts to the best in each act. They ranged from rock and roll, guitars and singing, to puppet dances and farces based on village life. We then walked home in the dark with two flashlights and the moon to guide us through the mangrove swamp and over the rocky foreshore where the tide had made considerably.

Silas arranged our river trip for 0800. By 1130 our guide was still at mass, so Silas arrived with the fast boat minus its 40hp outboard and we strapped our 8hp on the back. We had three little girls and boys aboard as well as Silas and ourselves, and we still made about 9 knots up the Lambamba River through thick jungle-shrouded river banks where we hoped to see crocodiles, but no luck. Eventually we came to the waterfall and, whilst not high, it ran swiftly and was full of swimming holes, spa baths and showers and was deliciously cool. There was not much of the bar of soap left. On the way back we stopped at a grove of betel nut trees. Quick as a flash Silas and the boys fashioned bridles for their ankles from pandamus leaves and went straight up the betel trees, which are taller and much thinner than coconut palms but hardly bent at all. They even swapped from one tree to the other forty feet in the air. Then Silas showed how the PNG made fire by rubbing one stick in a groove created in another. Most impressive.

Then back to Glenshiel VII and retrieved our outboard. Farewells all round and off to sea in 29øC with a 13 knot easterly, and with some optimism set a course from Deijei Pass for Hydrographer's Pass on the Barrier Reef, bound for Mackay. The rhumb line distance from there to Hydrographer's Pass or Palm Passage was the same at 530 miles or so. Our Louisiade adventure was over.

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