Enough excitement you might say for a lifetime. Not for Paul and Bob who were given the following day off, a Sunday, (we don't work on Sundays) to go fishing.  Earlier that morning we had seen a single person paddling a traditional canoe across the bay heading in the vicinity of the camp fires observed the previous evening.  Paul and Bob planned to give their first catch of fish to whomever they found on that shore, IF they could catch some fish.  

Here is an excerpt from an email that Paul sent to family and a few friends – “Like children, we were soon giddy when we started catching fish within minutes of dropping our first lure in the waters of this secluded area.  Then only minutes later, we found ourselves in the middle of a school of an unknown species of large fish (the size of tuna) swarming around the dinghy.  In our excitement to cast into this school of fish, we both fell to the floor of the dinghy.  Recovering from our clumsiness, I immediately got a 'hit'.  And what a hit it was.  Within the distance that I am able to cast a lure, approximately 50 feet, leaping entirely out of the water, was a five foot plus fish.  It wasn't until its second leap that I recognized it as a 'SHARK'.  What a display it performed for us as it tried to shake a little 3 inch lure from its mouth.  Once again a spectacular sight.

Then the shark ran.

You might recall that I have previously tried to catch a shark using 100 pound test line, wire leaders and gigantic hooks with no success.  This shark now had in its mouth a tiny little treble hook on a 3 inch lure, attached to 25 pound test line on a light spin casting reel.  Fortunately, for me, Bob got to the engine and propelled us in the direction of the shark just before he got to the end of my line.  We were in water over 100 feet with little coral about so we knew that we had a chance of tiring this fish out but the big question was how could we possibly land it without losing a limb or more.  We had a small gaff but neither one of us was interested in getting that close to a live, thrashing shark.  In any event, the battle was on, and on and on.  It went on for an hour and a half with Bob and I taking turns at taking in a few metres of line and the shark taking them back.  During this battle we managed to work the dinghy alongside Bella Via so that we could be handed my 4 foot long gaff.  If Bob could work the fish close enough to the boat, our plan was for me to get the gaff into the fish, immediately let it go, allowing the fish to run with the gaff which was tied by a 6 foot line to the stern of the dinghy.  It took three attempts before this strategy finally worked.  We were then able to tow him to Bella Via for the mandatory photo shoot.  From there, we towed him to the beach, where upon arrival he no longer showed any further signs of life.  The animal was filleted into two huge fillets taken from each side.  Our plan was to bring these fillets to the people whose fire we had seen the previous night.  I dragged the carcass a good distance into the rain forest to allow nature to dispose of it.  End of excerpt.

As it turns out, this isn't the last he saw of that carcass.

They then dinghied along the beach in search of the canoe that they had seen earlier in the day, hoping that it would lead them to some of the local residents with whom we could share our catch of fish.  Of course, always with fishing lines in the water, they caught two more good sized fish, a coral trout and a cod.  (A Fishing note: The meat of these fish is white and light tasting like perch and pickerel at home, not fishy like tuna and mackerel.)

Soon enough Paul and Bob did indeed see a couple of canoes onshore.  As they approached they could see two thatched roof shelters, each about the size of a park picnic shelter that we might see at home, only much lower to the ground.  From each of the shelters, one low near the beach and the second up a small hill, there could be seen smoke coming from cooking fires inside.

As the residents saw Paul and Bob, the children were the first to come forward to see who these strange white people were.  A few adults also appeared from beneath the shelters but Paul and Bob could see their reticence to come forward.  Nearing the beach, Paul couldn’t help but feel like he was Captain Cook landing in a strange new land with a strange and different culture.  This first meeting was a significant moment for Paul.  When, close enough to be heard, he put on his biggest grin, waved and shouted “Hello!”  He then asked if they could come ashore.  Someone shouted back “Yes!”

It had been raining intermittently most of the day.  Just at that moment the skies opened and a heavy down pour sent all ashore scurrying for refuge under the thatched, beach-level shelter. Paul and Bob landed the dinghy and slowly walked up to the edge of the shelter to introduce themselves to these native people.  It was Anthony, a young man in his thirties with very good English who first stepped forward, shook their hands in greeting and invited them into the shelter to be out of the rain.  Ducking their heads they stood under the low thatched roof as Anthony introduced them to his elders John and Catherine, their son Pius and wife Judith and four children, and Anthony’s wife, Marie, and her child.  All have Christian names because most of Papua New Guinea is either Catholic or Uniting Church.  In fact Catherine had a Rosary around her neck and draped inside her shirt.

All, except the children, understood and spoke English.  They learn English in elementary school but these children were of pre-school age except one who wasn’t going to school because, in their words, “Tracey doesn’t like school.” “Hmm.”, thought Paul.

When Paul asked who is the chief of this village, John said he was chief of this family but this was not their permanent residence.  It was where they lived when they worked on the nearby reef collecting and processing Sea Cucumber (Beche de Mer) which is exported to Asians who consider it a delicacy.  This smoked dried Sea Cucumber is definitely not food for our North American palates.  (Note: The local term for Sea Cucumber is “Beche de Mer”, the root of which makes no sense to us because it sounds and is spelt like it’s French but according to our French dictionary, “Beche de Mer” translates as “spade of the sea”, a description which doesn’t fit this thick, sausage-like creature.)

It soon became clear that although John, the chief, was head of the family, it was Catherine who owned the land, a very substantial piece of land we might add.  We have subsequently learned that in some families (they say ‘clan’) land is passed on to the eldest son and in other clans, it is passed on to the eldest daughter.

There was much cultural exchange in this first encounter, too much for us to remember in this writing, however one point of significance is that Paul asked John “what do the people of Papua New Guinea call themselves”.  He didn’t understand the question, until Paul explained that we from Canada are called Canadians.  His answer is that the people from the Louisiade Archipelago are historically called Papuans and those from the main island of Papua New Guinea, where the capital city of Port Moresby is located, are called New Guineans.

Finally Paul and Bob got around to offering them the catch of fish.  Paul and Bob told them that they had just caught a shark and there was too much for us to eat.  Paul and Bob asked if they eat shark and would they like to have these large shark fillets.  With big grins they gladly accepted the offer.  Paul and Bob did take two small steaks of shark meat from the fillets so that we could try fresh shark, for the first time, that night for dinner.

Immediately upon telling them that Paul and Bob had just caught the shark, they asked, “What did you do with the fins?”  This puzzled Paul and Bob.  Why would they want the fins?  To dry them and sell them just as they do the Beche de Mer was the answer.

Paul could immediately see where this was leading.  Yes, back into the dinghy and the jungle where he had laboriously disposed of the shark carcass.  Now he was just as laboriously dragging this 5 foot long carcass out of the jungle and along the beach to the dinghy where they tied a line to it and towed it back to John and family.  Again, we must say how grateful they were to receive this gift.

It was out of this encounter that we learned about the trading boats that regularly come to these out-island areas to trade the dried Sea Cucumber (Beche de Mer) and the dried shark fins for ‘kina’ (Papua New Guinea currency).  The kina are immediately handed back to the trade boat vendors for goods that are otherwise unavailable to these out island people - rice, flour, tinned foods, soap, ‘D’ cell batteries to name a few.

If this first 24 hours of life in the Louisiades was indicative, we knew that we were in for a most amazing experience and, which you will see in the following episodes, has proven to be the case. 

June 19, 2007

We said good-bye to Liji Liji Bay and travelled only 10 miles south to Dumaga Bay, where we knew that there were at least two villages.  Bob and Paul immediately went fishing and Mary and Julia were soon visited by two canoes with villagers welcoming us to the bay. 

Here is Julia’s account of her first week in the Louisiades.  Julia has graciously allowed us to publish her account.

June 20, 2007

“We awoke this morning to what sounded like drums and lots of laughing and shrieking - couldn't work it out but it seemed to end when the sun came up.

We went ashore about 9.00 and were met by Patrick (yesterday's visitor) and the chief, Ayden Dominic (a wizened little man with a red/black betel nut mouth and not many teeth, the same age as Bob but who looked about 95).  After introductions all round, Ayden walked us through the village to his house, or rather his daughter & son-in-law's house in which he seems to spend a lot of time.  The houses are up on stilts, timber-framed with nepa palm matting roofs and walls - all very neat and tidy, even the ground under the houses was swept clean.  No grass or gravel pathways and when it showered it got a bit sticky underfoot.  Once at Gwaibo & Margaret's house it was shoes off and up onto the verandah for a very interesting chat.  It transpired that the noise we had heard before sunrise was the women and children involved in an 'ancestral' ritual celebrating harvest time - harvest of what we're not quite sure as we were unable to trade for any fruit with the exception of some pawpaw.  The other thing that made our eyes pop was a couple of solar panels on a stand outside Gwaibo's house and the acknowledgement that they have a TV and video's (doesn't everyone)!!!!!!  Apparently some years ago, maybe two, a yacht had wrecked on the reef surrounding the headland after successfully getting through the barrier reef and most of the flotsam and jetsam (plus the yachtie and his dog) had ended up in Gwaibo's house.  It was also pleasing to see that on the wall were posters of the alphabet and numbers.  The house itself was quite bare but, under the circumstances, very clean.  Of course we had been followed everywhere by the obligatory entourage of children.  Children, children everywhere - the pied piper would have been right at home here!  Many adults and children just "hung" around to look at and listen to the "Dim Dims" (white man); made us feel like something in a zoo but not in an unpleasant way.

We had brought a bag of balloons with us, fortunately enough for almost every child to get one - I was exhausted by the time I blew them up - and they were a huge hit - the children wait their turn and share so no squabbling and a fabulous sight to see the happy faces and colourful balloons.  We tried to take unposed pictures to capture the overall feeling but as soon as the camera comes out they all gather and laugh straight at the camera - and they all want to see the picture on the tiny screen - amid heaps of laughter and squealing and chatter which we can't understand of course - could be saying anything!

We finally left at lunch time and in the afternoon Paul, Bob & Julia went to another village where the school is.  Currently there are about 80 children in the school (they start at about age 7) and only one teacher as the other teacher and Head Staff were away.  Paul was a primary school teacher and loves to go to any school.  After talking with the teacher and asking permission, he tried to teach the older kids (Grade 5) a song, but they were much too shy.  So he then turned to a sort of mathematical/strategic game played with stones collected from outside the door and chalk drawn circles on the concrete floor.  Took a little while to soften up but some caught on very quickly, some not so.  We left after about an hour having donated books, exercise books and pens, pencils, etc - much relieved to be outside again as it was extremely hot in the classroom. 

We walked to the nearby clinic which was not open, but looking through the window, saw it was very clean and tidy with all the benches covered over to keep whatever was underneath clean.  The rules of the clinic were printed on a noticeboard outside (all printing we have seen has been just excellent - incredibly neat) - rule No. 1 was "Show Respect and Good Manners" and this really sums up what we have found with everyone we have met - puts us on our mettle and makes us very conscious of what we say and how we act.

Next we walked up to the church - a partly open pentagon with no pews or chairs, just an altar and lots of paintings of Christ's life, painted by Phillipe (as explained to us by Rhonda, one of the Grade 5 children who we stopped to talk to and took us to the church).  Jesus WAS a black man!

After this it was back to the dinghy (with the usual entourage) and back aboard BV to await the return of the beche de mer boats and our return to the shore to see what happened.  The first of 3 or 4 boats came around the point and into the bay so we followed.

Gwaibo (who as you might have by now gathered, is very much the village businessman) is paid about 135 kina a kilo for the end result, and a much smaller variety called Sand Fish earns 200 kina a kilo.  The boat crew earn a daily rate of 15 kina and each boat uses about 40 litres of fuel a day going out to the reef, moving around and returning.  Paul was fascinated by the whole process and asked if he could join one of the boats for the next day's dive.  After the basic idea was understood and we were given a red emperor caught by one boat, it was back to BV to await the return of the last boat with whom we had organised a delivery of fresh crayfish for our dinner.  After a bit of anxious waiting, the boat duly 'came good' with 3 beautiful painted crays - traded for some 100lb test fishing line.  Dinner, now eaten in the cockpit due to the unbearable heat inside, was delicious (after sundowners on the foredeck to cool down in the breeze).  Great excitement from Paul when he looked at the sky and realised that we were now so far north that he could see the Big Dipper  - a northern hemisphere constellation - and a first for us.  All in all it was quite a day for our first real taste of village life and we had lots to talk about.

21 June 2007

Just before daybreak, we all went ashore in the dinghy to watch a traditional water ceremony that is done annually at harvest time.  The ceremony is performed by only the women and children and was the sound of the drumming that we had heard the morning before.  We had asked permission to watch the ceremony, however, as the children and women are mostly naked during the rite, the women decided to give it a miss this morning.

 

With Paul planning a day out on the reef with the "boys", Mary, Bob & Julia planned a sloth day - chores, reading and resting- with only one excursion ashore with a pair of reading glasses for Ayden Dominic who had mentioned that he was unable to read his bible anymore (these people are Catholic and Ayden's position as an elder in the church was something he was very proud of).  Between the two couples we had quite a selection of second hand glasses and after Bob and Paul had whittled it down to about 5 sets, we were lucky enough to have something that worked for Ayden.  It was a very special feeling for the three of us to see how moved he was at being able to read the very small print in his bible again.  We then asked if he would show us more of the village, and in particular Julia would like to see their garden - something she will be a bit more careful about in future!   We set out with Ayden in the lead,  passed more houses and some absolutely enormous pigs (about one a year is killed for special occasions - wild ones are caught and killed more often with the assistance of the scrawny dogs who are kept for pig hunting and not much else that we could see), yet another clothesline strung with football team tops and pants - purple and yellow - and then off through waste high grass along tracks, sometimes well defined, sometimes not, first to see their water supply - a very clean clear partially covered pool of naturally filtered water and then another well type affair and a stream for washing clothes.  Further along the stream we came to a crossing (just a couple of logs across the mud) and were told that there were pools either side - left for the men and right for the women.  We were getting pretty hot by this stage and when offered the choice of visiting the school and another village or seeing Ayden's garden which was "not far", we opted for the garden.  Next time we will delve a little more deeply into the definition of "not far".  "Not far" was actually too far for the dim dims and halfway up the hill in temperatures of HOT and humidity of 300% minimum, Ayden pointed to the ridgeline in the distance and said "there's my garden"!!!!  Bob, in his most diplomatic speak, explained that we dim dims were just unable to go that far and would he be offended if we turned around and headed back to the village.  We'll never know what he really thought but he certainly didn't appear offended (we later heard that this "little old man" went back up to his garden to do some work).

We returned to BV and enjoyed our "slothing" until Paul's early return - his boat's beche de mer container already full by about 2.00pm (normal return time is about 4.00pm).

 

22 June 2007

Friday and we have been here for four days now (at Thegytheghe village, pronounced Daggydaggyhair!) and Gwaibo & Margaret, together with their two sons Mathias (5ish) and Richard (16 months), niece Theresa (7) and canoe maker Denis were to take us up the river to the waterfalls.  Woow!  What a special place after a 20 minute or so ride up a reasonably sized river bordered by fabulously lush jungle.  Here is where they come to get the Nepa palm for housing and betel nuts for chewing.  Also the occasional garden belonging to "someone" – garden is a very loose term for a bit of cleared jungle with taro, yam, potato, banana, whatever planted around and between the remaining stumps.  The waterfall is a series of rock ledges and pools that cross the entire river - all fresh water but not drinking quality and the crocodiles were only "over there", i.e. somewhere else!  Didn't stop Paul, Bob and Julia from jumping or slithering in as the case maybe - after the heat and humidity it was bliss.  Gwaibo then showed us another part where the rock ledge enabled us to stand, literally in the waterfall, leaning back against the rock wall, with the water cascading down and around us.  Lots of photos taken but sometimes it's hard to actually see the bodies behind the water.

 

Denis had gone "into the bush" with his machete to find some sticks to finish his latest canoe (by bush we're talking what appears to us to be impenetrable jungle!) and returned just in time to have some of the combined lunch.  Having completed our laundry (football uniforms for Gwaibo – of course that means that Margaret did the wash while Gwaibo was having a good time with the dim dims) and towels for BV - heaps of fresh water is just too good an opportunity to miss, we headed back down the river.  One stop was made for Denis to climb a betel nut tree (looks more like a tall, skinny palm) to get some nuts for Margaret and the old men in the village to chew.  The nut is a very creamy colour and it is only the addition of mustard and lime powder (from the reef) that turns their mouths red, accompanied by a great deal of spitting, fortunately into the river.  Gwaibo also climbed and Margaret said that he didn't normally do that, he was only showing off for us!  Paul also decided that he should climb a tree and made a very good attempt but only got about half way up - we three just sat in the dinghy and watched…..

Back at BV … Paul printed photos off to take back ashore to our hosts and say goodbye as we plan to head off to Nimoa on Saturday.  The delivery of the photos taught us another lesson - Denis was pleased with the photo of him returning from the jungle with his sticks (a bundle of 12 or so about 15ft long) but would have been much more pleased to receive a copy of a photo HE took of Paul learning to climb the tree.  Would have given him much more status among his mates to be able to PROVE that he could use a camera! 

So, once again, drinks on the foredeck with the setting sun……

23 June 2007 - Saturday.

Intended departure for Nimoa has been postponed in favour of a reading day as it is steady rain - much too dangerous to try and travel the 35miles or so in these partially uncharted reef and rock strewn waters when there's no sun.  Some little boys (in a rowing dinghy) and girls (in an outrigger canoe) came out to trade a large potato - shivering in the wet and cold - and went away with a couple of fish hooks or a couple of hair bands each, otherwise very quiet.  Word got around as an hour later the same canoe was back with two different children wanting to trade some bananas - much to our delight.  Later in the day Gwaibo came out in a motor dinghy with Mathew, about 37, who also could not read.  More glasses were produced and our resident optometrist 'Bob' fitted him with a working pair!

So we are hopeful that the weather will clear and tomorrow we will get to Nimoa, unfortunately too late for church which was one of our ambitions - maybe somewhere else next Sunday.”

End of Julia’s account of her first week in the Louisiades.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

The weather finally cleared and we travelled the 35 miles to Nimoa Island.  So much has been happening (as you will see in future journal entries) and we are truly enthralled with this archipelago.