Hornbill at breakfast

"Kolera" public health educational sign Alotau market

About two days ago sailing west the Papuan mainland rose up on the horizon. We are now anchored off the town of Alotau, capital of Milne Bay province, on the northern side of the mountain encircled Milne Bay. It has been raining heavily since we arrived, at least 3 inches a night, we are yet to see the mountain peaks, they are shrouded in cloud. Saw our first motor vehicle in 6 weeks. Add to that list of firsts, mass electric lights, petrol stations, mobile towers, supermarkets,  roads, taps, toilet blocks, chocolate, taxis, banks, people not in canoes, the currency system of exchange. Compared to the Louisiades it feels like we have moved forward  in time to the 21st century. Albeit, lagging behind say, Zurich, in terms of the paraphernalia of the modern world but firmly in it none the less. Now sitting at breakfast on the hard, two massive hornbill birds hopping around obviously tame. They are like an evolutionary bad joke, the consequence of a selection pressure dead end perhaps? They do however seem to get on ok. A band played here last night and the members are busy collecting  their instruments. Music pervades this country. In a trade store you might find only clothes and instruments. In shops the music can be so loud as to make it almost impossible to ask the shop keeper a question. In the islands the villagers would sing as they paddled their canoes past us in the dark. I had a jam with a Rossel Islander who taught me a song about coconuts- no kidding. The Christian missionaries have harnessed this musicality as well, apparently church services are more concert than sermon. I can well imagine it. Reggae and Bob Marley are popular. Striking looking  highlanders with dreds are common and the radio stations play a local reggae style; think country crossed with reggae with a hint of  Hawaiin (if you think that is painful to visualise you should try listening to it). In Gigila a request from a shy teenager was " a 1st and 4th string" once word had got around that there was a guitar on board. We are restocking the boat and head off again tomorrow with our solar equipment ready for a village installation. We are also going to Normanby  Island to try and see a very rare bird of paridise. I should be able to upload some more photos in a week.

For about a week we have been sailing west, wind behind us, leaving behind the most easterly extremity of our travels: Rossel Island. We are now in the mysteriously named, 'conflict' group, that lies between the Calvados and the larger islands off the the PNG main land. These islands are unpopulated and are postcard typical tropical coral atols. That describe a massive 20 kilometer oval. On one of them, Panasesa, is a largely deserted resort, jetty collapsed into the sea, with a tattered wind sock at the start of a coconut lined air strip. Who knows why it hasn't succeeded. One transport connection too many? Definitely not the quality of the diving: Jamie has just hauled up a crayfish for our lunch. 

We have completed the scoping of our small aid project and have decided in favour of a solar lighting installation in a village. The solar equipment is arriving in Alotau on Saturday. The water tank project was unviable for positive reasons: a local government member from Alotau, a nationalised Swede named John Luc, had recently completed a vote buying mass distribution of water tanks. Also many islands already have water tanks donated by ausaid or the considerate yachties that visit here. There are still communities that need them no doubt, but finding them and the logistics of moving the equipment have now exceeded our available time.

Economical and efficient lighting is greatly needed in the Louisiades. They light their huts generally in 3 ways; Fires, hurricane lamps or battery powdered lights (a frequent trade request is d sized batteries). Indoor fires cause a number of chronic diseases in developing countries and are inferior light sources. The hurricane lamps and battery lights consume scarce cash, (up to 4 keena a week for a household based on my discussions with villagers). LED and micro solar technology has advanced greatly in the last 10 years. Cheap systems with excellent illumination are available and are long lived. We plan to do a couple of installs with the equipment we have arriving and use this work to try and develop micro systems that can be shipped to the islands when we get back to Australia.

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.