We gave rudimentary first aid today to a child from the village on Gigila Island. She had a hand sized scold on on her stomach, blistered in areas. Janette, aged about 5 year old, was paddled out to our boat by her mother. She was tiny and tough as nails she was silent as we applied burn gel. I asked if she was in pain and her mother translated. Her answer; no. We gave them Bactroban Topical and some amoxy we had in our medical stash in case it got infected.

I reckon the villagers would have to be near death to seek real medical attention. It is also difficult to get. A canoe paddle to the school is about 5ks away, a ham radio call to Nimoa,  50ks away, and if urgent enough several hours wait for the Nimoa water ambulance. If it is just painful, like the childs burn, it is just grin and bear it until things get worse. Hopefully they wont.


The day before yesterday we went for a dive in the gold rush channel at the eastern entrance to the Calvados Chain. The edge of this snaking channel was bordered with reef and fell into 60m of clear blue water. The reef jutted out like a shelf in places with a 10m overhang. In places there were holes you could swim through up to the reef flat. Jamie and I went in together ' to decrease the probability of death by shark by half'. It was spooky as hell and very beautiful.

                                            Children on Gigila Island

We are in Tryon bay, Rossel Island.


I've been getting into the spirit of the barter economy, and I had been eyeing off the chickens in the villages and saying to Jamie "we should get our hands on a chicken". Trust me to open my big mouth. Fast forward to yesterday afternoon and that is precisely what I had my hands, a trussed live chicken.


I had to hold it while Jamie paid for it with buckets. Waves of guilt, pity and fear of the impending act of butchery washed over me as I held the poor thing, the islanders looked on slightly amused. Simon, the purveyor of the bird told me he fed it on coconuts and that it was 'good gris', a pidgin term for generally excellent and very fatty.  


Moments later the transaction done, I walked the captive to the gallows, where Jamie held a machete and an oar as a chopping block. I had a foolish wish to give our dinner one last pleasure on earth, a walk around the deck perhaps? Then my mind screamed at me  'Darren it's a chicken, and you're on a boat, get a grip!" We covered it's eyes with a shirt, the machete fell. Gruesome death throws ensued. I am thinking I can see why this job has been outsourced, top work INGHAM. More gruesome plucking by your faithfull correspondent. Then into the pot, chicken soup. How was it? It was very good gris.

In the 20 years I have known Jamie, I have often had cause to ponder 'have we gone too far this time?' 


This occurred to me again as we scrambled over boulders, climbing up a swollen creek in the north of Sudest yesterday. Our  purpose? Paning for gold. The archipeligo saw a gold rush in the turn of the last century and another in the last 15 years, which still has some way to run. Jamie has met locals on previous trips who have asked for help to mine for it.


The attitude toward big mining varies from island to island, in Sudest they have apparently rejected the advances of the multinationals. Maybe the Misima mine, about 60 miles north across the Solomon Sea was example enough; a cash injection, yes, but a large tract of the island is now un suitable for agriculture or villages. I am guessing but maybe the money didn't trickle down far from the board room? A case of once bitten?


So there we were up a creek in the middle of no where on an island in the middle of no where, paning for gold. Did we find any? No, but i found a nice rock.


In the galley today. . . Dinner was seared fresh yellow fin tuna (Rossell reef) on a bed of sweet potato mash (Motorina Island) with a a garlic onion tomato ragu (Woolies tinned italian) and cracked black pepper. Drinks: Bundy rum and orange juice (wala island) served in a plastic cup.

Mission visit was interesting. We saw the mission funded hospital, it was basic but functional. We also the school which, after being destroyed by a cyclone was rebuilt with funds donations from a gold mine now de-commissioned on Misima Island.


Word of mouth accounts told us that the mine was a corrupt and destructive enterprise but this 'good' deed may have deflected the bad press, that is if there was any bad press.  
Father Young (aged 75) is in charge of the mission, but was absent as he's visiting his ill mother in Australia. She is close to 100. 


We talked to a tutor, Simon Paul, who gave us details of two potential projects, lighting the mission school with solar lights (the older students quite often study at night using expensive to run hurrican lamps ) and also an extension building for the school - a much more complex undertaking and not sure if it's in the scope of this trip.

We are at anchor by a Catholic mission on Nimoa Island. 


The gastronomique tour continues; we had giant mud crab stir fried in chilli, lime and fish sauce for dinner. This was courtesy of Samson, a villager from Panatinane Island, and James; who was bitten by it during it's capture, much to the amusement of the islanders and I. It tasted better than anything I have bougt in a restaurant, period. James managed to scoff his with one finger held out and bound in plaster. We paid for the crab with buckets and clothes. 


The number of islanders we are meeting with Anglo-Christian names has been increasing steadily as we neared the mission; Samson, Maria, Teresa, Noah, David and also a cluster of Gilberts?? 


We are going ashore tomorrow, trying to gather information  for our project and also watch the weekly soccer match which apparently draws players and spectators from across the archipeligo. We saw the first electric lights we have seen since arriving, and they shine invitingly across the water.

Today Jamie and I earned a slab of freshly butchered pork for hull repairs to a "long boat" (18ft fibre glass outboard powered boat, ubiquitous in the islands). We cooked it up back on the boat with in a curry with turmeric, cumin, coconut and rice. Delicious! 


The whole pig was given to us wrapped up in banana leaves. It had been slaughtered to  celebrate the "coming down from the house" of a 4 month old infant. Apparently a new born is confined for some months before freely mingling in the village (an infectious disease control measure?). 


We are still anchored at Gigila Island, as is Tony. We talked at length about PNG politics and his hopes for progress in the municipal ward of which he is the representative. It contains 509 persons across about 4 large inhabited and small uninhabited islands.

Today we visited a village on Gigila Island. Giglia has a village that sits on the shore of a large north facing bay. The perimeter of the bay is scattered with coconut palms the groves are over-run with rainforest and other species indigenous to the islands.


Gigila is a  much larger island than those we have visited so far and the signs of agriculture are more marked. The entire ridge of the island and all the tops of the  200 metre high hills are covered in grass. We are told this is the final state of the land after centuries of agriculture have rendered it depleted of nutrients. In the gullies however there is a riot of vegetation.


In the village we met Tony, who is the local member/representative. It's funny when you meet a highly articulate English speaking man sitting in a bamboo rattan hut. Not only that but you are surrounded by naked children, in a village with no electricity, accessible only by sailing canoe, and he tells you that he barracks for the Broncoes! These people are very poor but they are so friendly and funny it's humbling. Tony told us that 8 million keena that are meant to be for the islands, periodically arrives in and then mysteriously vanishes from Misima island, the administrative centre for this area. In Australia that would be like stealing from the homeless.

In a small way the economy of the Louisiades is like Australia; the economy is all about China. 

Beche de mere (sea slug) fishing, used to be a staple income for the Louisiades. But demand from the insatiable Chinese market has now completely annihilated the stock here. The government probably stepped in too late when it banned fishing of the species for 3 years. The ban ends late this year, but I have seen only one of the animals in all the diving we have done. 

Another obscure culinary ingredient has replaced the sea slugs now, shark fin. Shark fin sells into the wholesale market for China for 200 keena ($100 AUD) a kilo. I was shown a single dried fin on Mabneian Island yesterday that must have weighed no more than 20 gms. God knows how many sharks are required for a kilo of fin. I know little about fisheries science but  I suspect that shark populations will, like the beche de mere, plummet. Then what? 

Prices for the colonial staple of the Pacific, copra, are now so low that it is unviable. Everywhere remnants of the old plantations can be seen and in places you can see the islanders  nursing the groves back to life with clearing and planting. But is this a measure of last resort? How do you plug into a the world economy, or even the local economy, with nothing to sell?

We are using satellite communications now so posts will be brief. 

Coral sea was hell. Thrown about for 3 days but arrived safely at the western end of the island group that contains Sudest. We are anchored behind a tiny island called Duchateau. It's very beautiful, deserted, and surrounded by coral reef. That was 3 days ago.

We caught Spanish mackeral today and traded them with some villagers on Motorina is for coconuts, limes and bananas. The villagers paddled out to our anchorage in dug out canoes. 

We are heading east tomorrow for Nimoa. There is a Catholic mission there which may be able to help us with our project.

Finally landed on the Duchateau Islands. We saw some rough seas and nothing on the boat managed to stay dry. Have yet to see another person. Incredibly beautiful, white sands and clear  blue seas- tropical paradise. Very clam inside the reef. Now we are resting up and Jamie is recovering from 3 1/2 days of being seasick. 

We're on the Coral sea, over half way to the islands.  Seas rough. Simple
things like drinking liquids are difficult. If you miss-time your sip you get a face
full. James sea sick. We are doing 4 hour alternate watches round the clock. Sea warm and
fabulous blue. Booby's slip stream us and occupationally try to land on the
boat, not so graceful and  and very funny. No land in sight. Our course is for
Sudest Island. About 40 hours to go.

Goodbye Australia!

The boat is ready. We have booked our customs clearance for 2pm tomorrow (Saturday). Weather is looking good but will be good to see the 48 hour model prediction tomorrow. We might see some 20-25 at the tail end of the trip but that will be fine as we will be close to PNG.

Spending the night in Malanda visiting friends and dropping off our vehicle. Last hot shower and large bed for a while, not to mention Lindt Chocolate and Thai chicken and noodle soup.

We have come to know quite a few of the people in Trinity harbor. One fellow, Mark, dropped over in his tender yesterday and gave us some fresh fish and pumpkin. Everybody seems to be a bit envious of our trip, especially yachties. Can't wait to get underway. We will be sailing into a full moon.

Another day frantically buying gear and provisions (did you know fresh eggs keep for months in newspaper and darkness?). 

Also that the layout of Bunnings wharehouses are the same across the country. Except Bunnings Cairns is a mirror image of Bunnings Stafford. I know cultural differences are subtle, eh?

Another anecdote, this time from a spear fisherman we met at the harbour. Apparently the one thing that guarantees failure at the art of spear fishing is too overt an interest in your prey. One must be nonchalant and even swim in the opposite direction to the target. Then the hapless fish will often fall in behind you (apparently trevally quite often fall in behind sharks - the safest place to be) Once your prey is behind you, you smoothly turn and fire. A little sad, and generalisable to the human race.

Our weather window had slipped to Sunday morning or Saturday afternoon. Trying to dodge a 25 knot blow. Let's hope the BOM modellers are right. Finally sorted our satellite communications as well.

Met a bloke on the pier today named Peter who used to fish PNG waters on a trawler. He had spent the night trying to free a anchor chain tangle and lost "25 fathoms of chain" in the process. 


He told us the story of a dodgy Australian Prawn fisherman who had recently been in partnership with a PNG national. The deal had gone sour after it was discovered that he was falsely labeling 1st grade tiger prawns as "broken and soft" prawns, thus cutting his partner out of about $20 per kilo of the prawn price. His partner was suspicious and hired a mercenary arm of the PNG army to storm the trawler fleet in full battle gear. A friend of Peter, who was aboard the boat at the time, left the vessel with only his shorts and afterwards said that "he was shitting himself ", finding himself staring down the barrel of a semi-automatic held by a Chimbu soldier. The trawler fleet is impounded apparently and the Australian owner "hasn't received a cent". Sounds fair to me.

Submitted our customs paper work in ready-ness for the inspection to depart. Weather still looking good for Friday or Saturday departure.

Worked all day on the boat. Got our life raft secured correctly. Still lots to do but the list grows shorter.