PNG Journals

Sea Kayaking New Ireland - Papua New Guinea

I half expected to hear Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries” as I sat on the small beach of Kabotteron. The warm air, the rhythmic lapping of the sea on the shoreline and tropical rainforest all the way to the waters edge. The locals milled around curious of our presence but shyly respectful to keep their distance. Where were the choppers, where was Robert Duvall? This was not Vietnam, this was not even S.E Asia, but the entire scene was reminiscent of some lost tribe in a lost world and we had just entered it. This was New Ireland – PNG.

New Ireland, an elongated island in the far northern part of Papua New Guinea, is a place lost in time. There are still places like this, where people live traditional lives, living off what the sea produces and what can be found on surrounding islands. Providence has blessed these people with abundance. But it is a life that teeters on the edge of an ever encroaching “civilized” world and a rising sea level.

For 5 days we paddled from New Ireland’s capital, Kavieng, north west between the main island and the prehistoric looking New Hanover. We island hoped, using our sea kayaks to propel from one secluded beach to another, from one remote village to the next.

This area was only explored in the late 19th century, when the great colonising nations of the world, Britain, France, Holland and Germany were racing to grab all remaining territory left on earth. While great explorers and adventurers, these colonising powers lacked imagination when naming these new lands. New Hanover, New Ireland, New Britain, New Zealand, New Guinea and the list goes on. But these mundane names belie the fact that they are some of the most exotic and beautiful places on the planet.

The area we had been paddling through is known as the Tigak region dominated by the colourful Malagan culture. Matriarchal in structure, they have not lost any of their vibrancy to the west’s religions. While the people here believe in one God, they also “know” that mother earth also provides them with spirits both good and evil. These spirits have looked upon our exploration expedition favourably.

Our journey would take us across some of the most pristine waters imaginable. Coral reefs blessed with a plethora of corals and marine life, flowed under us day after day like an intricately fashioned Persian carpet.

One such reef stands out above all else. It runs between the island of Kulinus and Nup, skirting that islands shore and then onto Patio Island. It is a place that has to be seen to be believed. The technicolour show beneath our kayaks whisks one away to a fantasia land, making one forget that you are paddling at all. So fantastic was the show, that we had to tie the kayaks to our support boat to see this wonder up close.

The world beneath is even more wonderful through the lens of a snorkelling mask. Thousands of fish (I do not exaggerate) scurry here and there. Sea annenomy, home to the famous clown fish, gently sway in the current. Black and purple coral dot the seascape. Schools of fish move along what appears to be some kind of organised freeway. Reef sharks, turtles and barracuda roam the depths of the steep drop off that make up this reef. Simply stunning!

Our journey continued further north to the wonderfully named, Lamalangit. Perched on the southern tip of a narrow island, one side of the village faces the open sea while the other faces a narrow channel, calm and peaceful and a great provider for enormous mud crabs in the nearby mangroves. Their culture has not died as they demonstrated that night with an energetic song and dance routine. Both men and women sing and dance in the Tigak area, bringing the entire community together in various celebrations of courting, birth, coming of age, marriage and at times death.

Our journey ended on the northern tip of Tsoilik. This wonderful paradise furnishes a clean guest house with picture postcard scenes of a lagoon and a small sandy island just off the coast. That night, we again were entertained by a splendid display of singing and dancing as well as fresh tuna and Cray fish.

There are places you want to keep to yourself. And there are places that need to be shared. This paradise I will share with all that can make the long journey to New Ireland, PNG.  

Want to know more about our Tigal Sea Kayaking Expedition?

84 Year Old Completes Kokoda Track - Papua New Guinea

On the last Kokoda expedition of the 2005 season the team were approached by a gentleman from Lae on PNG’s north coast. He approached the team in Hoi, the first village on the track back to Moresby from Kokoda. His request was simple; could he accompany our group along the track to Moresby? In return for some help with cooking and looking after the team he asked for a share of the food and the safety and companionship of our group. We had no hesitation as he was a very pleasant man who we thought would be a great travel companion. His aim was to visit his son and daughter who were working in Moresby. So far he had walked to Kokoda from Lae and was now facing the 96km walk to Owers Corner along the ‘Track’. Now in PNG let alone Australia this kind of distance is a very long way so you would expect that he would be a fit man in his 30’s? He was in fact 84 years old bare foot and only had the clothes on his back, a ‘Teletubies’ cap and a ‘Thomas the Tank Engine’ back pack that contained a few meager possessions.

This amazing man went by the name of Paul. He became an inspiration to the whole group not just the trekkers but the porters and guides as well. He would set out each day with a smile and a laugh as he watched us pack our packs and dismantle our tents. At the end of the day he was nearly always the first to camp and still had a grin when he saw the group trickle in. As we found out along the way Paul had to walk to Moresby as he was unable to buy a plane ticket. So instead of an hour flight he had to walk for two weeks. Through out the trek we all had to shake our heads in amazement as this man toddled off down the track each day. However as the kilometres to the end got fewer and fewer we could see that Paul was tiring and on the last days he was helped out with his pack and a cooking pot he had decided to carry in the early stages. Even though he was getting tired he still made it into camp well before the last few trekkers and porters.

On the last day as we all triumphantly passed under the memorial arch at Owers corner Paul was there, tired but he had a grin on his face and congratulated us all on ‘our’ achievements. We shared our cold drinks with him and we all climbed in our waiting transport back to Pt Moresby. The ride we gave Paul from Ower’s corner to ‘9 mile’ where his son worked saved him a further two maybe three days walking. I think it was the least we could do for someone who had given us so much inspiration. When you come across a person like Paul it makes you think about how petty we can be in the ‘West’ when it comes to visiting our friends and loved ones. He will remain a fond memory of the team’s Kokoda experience.