A river in PNG

A river in PNG

(Paradise Magazine, December 2001)

Serendipity

(not everyone knows what it means, I hope you do)

We were landing right on sunset, we were all sitting together as a group, all of us straining to see past each other out the little porthole windows of the Air Niugini F28. I asked Tony our group leader “ Is that the River “. He shock his head “ nope that’s the Markham River, we are going to do the Ramu”. “Are you sure, how do you know” I said craning to get a better look. “Well” he said, in the special voice that teacher reserve for particularly slow students “ the Markham is a Braided River, see how the rivulets run in and out of each other, like the strands on a piece of rope. Well the Ramu is a confined River with one main body of water, that’s why it is so suitable for canoeing” OK, got it thanks Tony. Anyway the Landing was smooth and all our bags were there to greet us. As was Frank Butler the boss, head honcho, the big cheese, the numero uno of Rivers PNG.

After loading the 4 x 4’s, I said to him, “ this is going to be an unreal Adventure “ He turned and smiled and said, “ No this is going to be a real Adventure.” It was then that I knew that this was not just another walk in the park, sold as adventure tourism.

We had just left Nadzab Airport, which services the City of Lae and were on our way to Suambu Plantation, which is the base for all of Rivers PNG trips. As the two vehicles approached the long straight driveway, flanked on either side by coconut Palms and exotic flowers I could not help thinking this is going to be nice, and sure enough, it was. Our group of six Aussie adventurers from cold and rainy Melbourne would be staying in this lovely old home as guests of Mrs Glen Jacobsen, a lady who had lived in this neck of the woods for some 59 plus years. Glen was a wealth of knowledge on what had happened in Papua New Guinea, yesterday and yesteryear. Dinner at the plantation house was a delight, spent getting up to speed on the History and Customs, inconsistencies and contradictions of this fascinating country we talked and told jokes into the wee small hours.

Next morning our concerns that we might sleep-in and miss something good, were proven to be completely unfounded, the local birds saw to that. The term Dawn Chorus must have been invented at Suambu. It seemed that any bird with a song to sing, had turned up to audition for Young Bird Talent Time, and they were all there, and singing their hearts out, Truly a magnificent start to any day. As Frank explained over breakfast, Today will be spent orientating you to the country. You will be introduced to the Flora (flowers, plants, trees etc) and Fauna (birds insects reptiles and mammals etc) and of course the people and places. And so it was to be, we started of with an interesting and informative Plantation tour, we looked at things most of us had seen before but this time we saw them better, we had them explained to us. The growth cycle of a Banana (the largest Herb in the world), the various uses of the Pawpaw plant and Fruit, how black pepper and white pepper all come from the same plant, the difference comes about in the processing, these were all subjects we covered amongst many others. After morning tea, a delicious affair, we were on the road again. This time to see The Rainforest Habitat one of Lae cities premier tourist attractions. Basically the people at the Habitat have taken a fantastic variety of the countries bird, animal and plant life and condensed them into a small but picturesque environment that can be enjoyed in a few short hours and all within easy reach of Lae town centre. We were able to study close-up many of the species that we hopefully would see in the wild, on the rest of our trip. We asked questions, we took notes it was like being back at school again. The difference of course being, this time we actually wanted to know the answers, information we pick up here would enrich our appreciation of what was to come. If only my teachers could see me now.

Next stop, the Croc farm (hap bilong pukpuk) as the locals call it. It was funny really, when we had begun to organise this trip after coming across it on the inter-net, one of the most talk about things in the boozy discussions at the local Pub was,” what happens if we come across a Crocodile”? Now here we were off to see 12,000 of them. David Wilson the head Pukpuk was our guide for the one-hour tour. I consider this tour a must for anyone contemplating a seven-day remote river adventure. He showed us the difference between salt water Crocs and fresh water Crocs. He showed us their eggs and explained how temperature determines the sex of the new born animals, but most of all he showed us their teeth, little needle sharp baby teeth, big lion like adult teeth and all the stages in between, the man should have been a dentist.

Waking up at 5 am is not so bad if it is nice and warm and the birds are singing and you are off on the adventure of a lifetime, By 6 am we were heading east along the Markham valley on our way to Brahman Bridge. It was a two and a half-hour trip through flat grassy plains, which are home to thousands of hump, backed beef cattle. Latter we passed through miles and miles of sugar cane,” This is Ramu Sugar the sweet tooth of the country”, Frank explained, “its named after our River”. We moved on through more fields, some freshly ploughed others with new sugar cane just sprouting. A sharp left turn bought us onto the Brahman Mission Road / dirt track, another half an hour and we arrived at the bridge that was to be our entry point.

The crew of three began to unload the cars and the trailers. First the big red raft, then the four canoes, next the Eskies then all the waterproof containers tables and chairs camp beds and tents, in fact so much stuff that I had no idea what it was all for or where it was all going to go. He smiled again “ the boys will take care of the gear, you all have something much more important to do. You have to learn how to take care of yourselves”. Then it started, what to do if the canoe overturns, what to do if we hit a snag, how to steer, how to paddle to conserve energy, how to stop. It all seemed very serious, that was until we actually got into the canoes then it seemed more like one of those old Carry On movies or something out of the Marks Brothers. Even tho most of us had done some canoeing before, we were all over the place; open Canadian style canoes don’t handle like a Kiyak. We laughed, we shouted, we bumped, we cursed. He stood on the bank and smiled “ righto you will learn as you go” and that was it we were off.

The big red raft started floating off in front with all the gear piled high and Peter and John in it, here after they were to be known as the boys. Well the boys looked behind, shouted encouragement and smiled, to be honest I wasn’t sure if they were smiling with us or at us. Frank and Peter were bringing up the rear, and we six valiant explorers in three canoes were in the middle, much like a family of well bread ducks. The first ten minutes were spent trying to keep the canoes in the middle of the river, the water was flowing at a brisk walking pace and it took a few minutes to get the hang of steering. Anyway once we had the basics sorted out we could lift our heads up and have a look about. The jungle came right down to the edge of the river; trees over hung the shallow banks. The river itself was maybe 30 metres wide and reddish brown in colour. The sky a brilliant light blue with the odd wispy cloud over the mountains high above us. All in all not a bad start, right let the fun begun.

The next three days we moved steadily down the river further and further away from all that was familiar. We saw no cars, in fact not even a road. No power lines no phone lines. We came across small villages most consisting of a few bush material huts, other larger hamlets with twenty or so houses some with corrugated iron roofs, Each one we passed the children would stop their riverside antics and stare, or wave and laugh. The women would giggle and quickly cover themselves or wave uninhibited with their naked breast jiggling before them. The men would motion for us to stop and talk or simply call out “ yu cum we” (where have you come from). Or more usually ‘yu go we’ (where are you going), when we told them that we were paddling the course of the river to the Bismark sea. This would be greeted with a low aaahyaa and they would offer a token gift of some kind to aid our grand voyage. A bunch of bananas, some deliciously sweet pawpaw or a pineapple or a stool, yes a handmade stool in case I needed to sit down “ It’s a long way to the sea” the old lady explained to Frank, who Interpreted for me, and on we would go.

All the time we would be accompanied by jungle sounds. White parrots would screech as they flew from one side of the river to the other. We would hear the woof woof sound from the wings of Blights Hornbill, as they would fly overhead looking for an evening snack or a place to roost for the night.

Then there was the ever present sounds also, the cheep cheep of tree frogs and the endless buzz of cicadas, there was always something to listen too. The interesting thing was trying to figure out what it was you were listening too. This is where the boys came into their own. Apart from erecting the tents, heating the water for the evening showers and making meals that tasted as if they had just been whipped up in a 5 star kitchen, between them they knew every sound in the bush. I think?

However most of the smells I could work out for my self. The pervading odour was that of the earth, like you smell in your garden just after it rains, fresh and natural. That mixed with the smell of decomposing vegetation, creating the nutrients to sustain this lush rainforest. The smell of smoke from cooking fires as we approached the village were the only man made smells. At least the only ones I want to talk about.

As we moved along, the river began to change and by day five it became wider the banks less well defined. The vegetation changed from thick rain forest to open marsh. Giant rainforest trees gave way to squat sago palms and the water slowed almost to a stand still, which meant more paddling. It was hard to believe that we were on the same waterway. The bird life change also, instead of parrots, parakeets and galas all in a perfusion of rainbow colours. There were herons and egrets, fish eagles and kits and great flocks of comb crested Jacanas and many of their web-footed brothers all in more restrained sombre attire.

Throughout the journey, as we became more familiar with our surroundings we would notice more. The different interests of the individuals in the group came to the forefront. Some people such as myself were fascinated with the bird life; other would do back flips over the butterflies and insects. The very brave or very strange would find joy in the lizards, snakes, frogs and crocodiles. Frank and the boys went out of their way to cater for this, pointing out things that we might otherwise of missed and telling stories or jokes of how it all fitted together. But the one thing that we all revealed in was the natural beauty and peacefulness of the river itself.

That said if anyone was to ask what were the most vivid impressions of your journey. I would have to say the People. Not just our guides and crew, but the people we meet along the Ramu River. The ones who took a genuine interest in our trip, the ones who were over joyed to meet us, to show us their homes, to share their food with us, to listen to our stories and tell us theirs. These people were so different from us, their values.

Frank told a story that put some perspective on things. “ A rich American Tourist was travelling along the River and came across a young man with a string of fish in his hand. The American asks the guy “where did you get the fish” the guy indicates to the river. The Tourist asks, “is there any more”? The guy nods his head vigorously. The visitor gives some free advise, he says “ You should catch some more and you could sell them, in fact you could get those buddies of yours who are sitting up there doing nothing, and have them help you. I reckon that in a couple of months you would have enough money to buy a boat. Then you could catch fish all the way up and down the River”. He went on “ you know what I bet that in a couple of years you would have enough money to retire. The national guy speaks for the first time, “What is retire”? The American explains “ well retire is when you get to do what you want. You can sleep to midday, go hang out with your buddies all day long if you want, stay up all night if you like because you don’t have to get up for work in the Morning. That’s retire. The guy nods in understanding and walks away giggling and shaking his head. These people, their way of life was all so different, that is what was making this trip special, we were building a memory to keep for the rest of our lives.

As we neared the Ocean our goal was in sight, the place where the river meets the sea. We had paddled and drifted for nearly 350 km. Through what must be one of this planets least touched environments We had seen a part, admittedly a small part of a fantastically diverse country that can make claim to the biggest this, the longest that. The most of these anywhere in the world, and stuff like that, lots of stuff like that. At the end of this day we would be in a lovely comfortable hotel in the sea side town of Madang and by tomorrow night we would all be at our respective homes. Was this really the end of a great adventure? No I don’t think so, I think this is the platform on which I shall build many more. After all what do you do once you have done something like this? Do it again?

Hannah O’Donnell is a 26 year old computer programmer from Melbourne Australia and a new convert to Extreme travel who has promised herself many more trips to the LAND OF THE UNEXPECTED