THE LOUISIADE ARCHIPELAGO, WHERE TIME HAS STOOD STILL (PART I)

Hugh Garnham

A `part time cruising man' (his own description) from Hobart, Tasmania, Hugh had already sailed to New Zealand, Tonga, Fiji, New Caledonia and back to Hobart, followed several years later by an Australian circumnavigation, before setting off for the little visited Louisiade Archipelago aboard his 40ft ketch Glenshiel VII.

It was 1500 on 2 July 1996 and the wind was south-southeast at 15 knots. Bowen was in sight five miles on our port beam and Cape Uppstart, our chosen anchorage for the night, clearly visible thirty miles ahead. 'Glenshiel VII' was commencing the main leg of a cruise to the Louisiade Archipelago, Papua New Guinea.

It had all started twelve months before on a cold winter's morning. I was walking along the Derwent Sailing Squadron Marina to do some maintenance work on 'Glenshiel VII' when a fellow yachtsman asked me how I had enjoyed my cruise around Australia, for which I had been awarded the OCC Australian Trophy for 1994. We yarned for a while and he mentioned how much he had enjoyed the Louisiades. `Hundreds of islands', very unspoilt and not much visited by yachtsmen or anyone else for that matter. He couldn't wait to return.

In the months after the chance conversation I found myself in the OCC chartroom at the Royal Thames Yacht Club in Knightsbridge doing a little cruise planning. I found charts of everywhere I'd been, hundreds of places I'd never been, but not one of the Louisiade Archipelago, which lies over a stretch of several hundred miles to the southeast of Papua New Guinea and forms the southeasternmost part of that country's territory. However, having set the goal I continued with my enquiries and soon charts and information began arriving from many sources.

The Eastern Seaboard of Australia, particularly north of Sydney, has a growing number of excellent marina facilities, which makes my style of cruising -- breaking long passages into appropriate legs -- somewhat easier as reliable moorings are not always easy to come by. This was the second time I had used Hamilton Island Marina and I found it and the staff excellent in every respect. It also has the great advantage of a nearby jet airstrip, which is how we found ourselves in balmy 24øC temperatures, with 15-20 knot southeasterlies and clear blue skies, four and a half hours after leaving Hobart's morning low of 2ø.

Long time crew member and cook Bill Vermey is a butcher of renown in Hobart and we always travel with a well stocked deep freeze. During our stopover at Hamilton Island the local fish and chip shop very kindly kept our frozen stores in their own deep freeze and now, with the engine running to bring our eutectic tanks down to minus 20ø, we were approaching Cape Uppstart on our way to Townsville to complete the provisioning for a five week trip to the Louisiades. Cruising yachtsmen are well advised always to provision on mainland Australia. Prices on all the island resorts, where they have a captive market, are outrageously high. We were to clear customs at Townsville, as Bowen is no longer a customs clearing port despite being mentioned as such in many publications.

'Glenshiel VII' is a 40ft cruising ketch, designed by Joe Adam and built and launched in Hobart in 1981. She is strip-planked in King William Pine, and with 10 ton displacement and 4 tons of lead is very stiff but seakindly. She averages 150 miles per day on most passages and has once achieved 200 miles in twenty-four hours.

On board as well as myself and Bill were Geoff Lister and Alan Floyd, with Des Cooper due to join at Townsville. We enjoyed our usual happy hour just before sundown and dropped anchor at 2000 immediately after rounding the Cape, just past a 7 metre white rock known as `The Bun'. A beautiful clear night with a full moon made anchoring easy, and we were soon enjoying hot roast beef with vegetables. We left at dawn for Townsville with an east-southeasterly which made for good sailing, and entered the Breakwater Marina where we fuelled, watered and topped up the gas bottles before moving to our berth. The facilities there were clean and plentiful and the service up to par with others on the coast. Next day we ordered our duty free to be delivered to the marina, saw customs, who are housed just a short walk away, filled out the usual forms and arranged to clear by calling at the customs office next day after Des joined.

After delays caused by a malfunctioning echo-sounder -- we eventually despaired of getting the intermittent problem fixed in Townsville and bought an inexpensive backup -- and some last minute shopping we cleared customs as arranged. By 1700 we had cleared the breakwater and motored to Horseshoe Bay on Magnetic Island, dropping anchor after dark but giving the fridge/freezer system a good start. The next morning, Saturday 6 July, dawned fine and clear with a 10 knot southeasterly, so after a final stow we motored through Magnetic Passage, rather than the more popular Palm Passage further north, to give ourselves a slightly better windward advantage. We cleared the final reef at 1700 and sailed on in a 15 knot easterly, which gradually freshened during the night to 25 knots and veered slightly.

The next thirty-six hours saw us experiencing 25-35 knots most of the time, and for a few hours fore-reaching under staysail only in 38 knots. Meanwhile, the forecast was for 20-25 east-southeast and little change. We were being pushed west of our rhumb line, but were still making reasonable time and by Monday evening were back with 25 knots. By noon on Tuesday we had clear blue skies, 15 knots of true southeasterly and really began to make a passage.

Dawn on Wednesday found us with the same conditions and just not enough time to make Duchateau Entrance into the Calvados Lagoon before dark. However running the engine to bring the freezer down, which we had been doing twice a day, together with a 5 knot increase in the wind, saw us begin to move at a pace that looked as if we could arrive at the anchorage before last light. Shortly after this we began to experience a 2 knot set right behind us and, sure enough, by 1630 we had sighted the Duchateau Islands and passed through the entrance at 1730 with just enough light to come to anchor in 6 fathoms and a slight roll (soon fixed by rigging our flopper stopper) after a passage of four days and ten hours.

The Duchateau Islands, three in all, are uninhabited but typical picturesque, sand fringed, coconut bedecked islands. Next morning we moved in closer and found much less roll, although even well behind the reef there was still a strong tidal set. Bill and Des went trolling with no success, and after lunch we went ashore and wandered into dense tropical vegetation and then took a long walk along virgin sands. Back on board we were well fed with barbecued scotch fillet, pepper sauce and the usual five vegetables and a little red wine. Next morning we motored to Bagaman Island, prior to our intended arrival at Bwagaoia Harbour on Misima Island to enter on Monday. 'En route' we sighted our first indigenous people, aboard a large sailing canoe that had obviously come from Misima. It was moving quite smartly crossed our bow only a short distance to windward with much waving and smiles.

We anchored on the western side of Bagaman Island in 40 feet over clear sand with coral on either side. No sooner were we squared away than the first canoe was alongside, paddled by Samuel, the head of his village of two families -- twenty people in all. In no time we were informed that the copra collecting launch had not arrived and they were very short of everything, a story we found to be repeated again and again at most villages and which was probably true to a certain extent. They were extremely polite, and after Samuel had shared our lunch of spanish mackerel we gave him the larger of the two fish and he invited us ashore where his daughters would do our laundry! Balloons for the children were a great hit, and the smiles on the children's faces were worth a million dollars to us. We have so much, they have so little and a balance has to be struck, we felt, to preserve their dignity and way of life. Much in demand was sugar, rice, tobacco, soap, fish hooks, T-shirts and just about anything.

Samuel's eldest daughter had cut her forehead and the skipper was asked to see what he could do. That was easy. `Doc' was called and next morning shaved, cleaned and steri-stitched the wound to everyone's satisfaction. The previous evening Samuel had paddled out to ask for painkillers for his daughter and suggested that, as we were nice people, what he would really like were (1) silicon, (2) paint, any colour, for his new trade store, (3) a calculator and (4) a cheap watch. This last item he would buy! What he wanted meant so little to us but in reality was a huge outlay to him. However, we gave him a spare tube of silicon and I felt that $2 for a watch and $10 for a calculator would perhaps encourage a spirit of trading enterprise and resolved to try and get Leo, who was joining us at Misima, to bring them from Australia.

Next morning we slipped over to the opposite island for some snorkelling and a barbeque ashore before heading for the main anchorage on the northeast side of Bagaman Island, but sighted four yachts just a mile further away at Gilia Island and decided to spend the night there. Shortly after we anchored the cloudless evening turned into a torrential downpour with 20 knots of southeasterly. It soon died down, but not before we had let out more chain. Just after dawn rain and 20 knots from the north put us on a lee shore, but once again it was gone in an hour.

We were visited yet again by the children in canoes, who found a teaspoon and stainless scouring pad that had gone overboard with the washing up water (tut, tut), and I bought a model outrigger from them for 5 'kina'. A beautiful calm afternoon saw us enter Bwagaoia Harbour at 1600, where we dropped anchor between a permanently moored trimaran and a steel fishing boat with gaping rust holes in the deck and transom, but an engine that sounded very sweet. With three vessels there was very little room for anyone else, and what little jetty space there was had work vessels rafted up three deep. Going ashore in the hour before darkness we were directed to the guest house where the manager, David, was a mine of information and most helpful. We arranged to rendezvous at his place at 0800 next morning where he would, to use his term, `scruff the customs man by the neck' and present him to us. He also offered us the use of his showers. Back on board Bill prepared a magnificent roast turkey dinner for Alan's first foreign port in a yacht, and together with appropriate quantities of wine and spirits, a good night was had by all.

Papua New Guinea time prevailed the next morning however, when after arriving at 0800 and speaking to the local policeman as well as David, it was 1045 before the customs officer was duly `scruffed'. From then on things went smoothly -- form filling was minimal and he then took us to the quarantine office where we received very speedy and courteous treatment. Bottled gas is now available at Bwagaoia, contrary to all our previous information but diesel, whilst sold, was out of stock. However David arranged for us to inspect the mine on Wednesday, and fuel would be available there. The local market runs five days a week but with very little variety. The bananas were okay but betel nuts, lime and mustard were the star attractions. The local shops were reasonably well stocked for such a remote area and roast goose was obviously the family favourite. Phone calls home and bread fresh from the local bakehouse at noon completed the morning.

After lunch we debated taking the local bus for a tour of the island, but after waiting an hour or so found they had stopped running for lack of fuel. That explained why so many people, including ourselves, watched the tanker 'Lady Jenny' berth, a very nice piece of seamanship in such a narrow harbour, particularly as the line tender was unable to get its outboard started and the only way to get a line ashore was by heaving line and monkey's fist. After the floor show I met the customs officer (arranged for 1600) at the guesthouse at 1700. However all was well and we were free to return to the Calvados Islands and visit Misima again before clearing out. Dinner at the guest house that night was at 1900. We were disappointed that we were the only ones dining, but David sat with us and regaled us with stories of his days as a political assistant to a former Prime Minister. The meal of roast lamb with vegetables, cheesecake and ice cream, and including a beer beforehand, was $10 a head and very enjoyable.

'(The story of' Glenshiel VII's 'cruise to the Louisiade Archipelago will be concluded in' Flying Fish '1997/2. Meanwhile the factual information and charts also sent by Hugh have been forwarded to the Cruising Information Service.)'

(2308 words)