Text: Birgit Hackl
From Vanuatu, we arrived in Kavieng on the northern tip of New Ireland, a lovely little town with a great vegetable market and surprisingly well-stocked supermarkets. A prolonged period of calm thwarted our plan to sail further west to the Hermits.
Instead, we explored the many islands around the tip of New Ireland and around New Hanover, sailed up to the remote St Matthias Group and then hopped back to the Tanga Group, taking advantage of weather windows. After a detour to the Solomon Islands, we returned to the outer islands, first to Mussau.
A tentative tap on the fuselage
“Hello, good afternoon!”, followed by a tentative knock on the hull. I pop my head out of the companionway and look into four smiling children’s faces. The girls – the youngest is probably not yet ten and the oldest perhaps fifteen – have sailed over in their sailing canoe from the village on the other side of the lagoon to our anchorage by the pass. I can hardly send them away again.
And there they are, climbing up the bathing ladder laden with baskets. I’m standing by with the shower hose, as we’re trying to keep ‘Pitufa’ reasonably free of salt and sand despite the many visitors. I politely thank them for the melons, green beans and aubergines, even though we’ve already got mountains of them stowed below deck. I’d rather preserve the surplus than disappoint the girls.
Lipstick and perfume
“What can I give you for the veg?” The girls giggle, consult briefly amongst themselves in their own language, and then the boldest of the four blurts out: “Lipstick and perfume!” Of course, luxury goods like that aren’t available anywhere round here. I find some lipstick in our rummage box; instead of perfume, I pack a few bars of scented soap and add two packets of rice and sugar.
A quick tour of the deck and cockpit, and then the four of them clamber back into their canoe, swiftly raise the mast, unfurl their sail – made from sewn-together umbrellas – and speed off. The next canoe is already on its way – heading for ‘Pitufa’. Sighing, I wait for the next visitors; I doubt I’ll finish my sewing machine project today.
The important visit to the Chief
We had read that it was essential, as soon as we dropped anchor, to seek out the chief of each island to present him with gifts, ask for permission to stay and, more importantly, place ourselves under his protection in case anyone tried to rob us or demand anchorage fees.
This may well be the case at moorings on the mainland. On many of the small islands, we were simply sent to see the ‘chairmen’ (similar to a mayor), where we were welcomed in a very informal manner, with no expectation of obligatory gifts – though, of course, we brought along a few small tokens of appreciation all the same.
Great interest in foreigners
Wherever we dropped anchor, canoes would soon be paddling towards us anyway: first curious children, then the rest of the village. The first day was usually the busiest, as everyone was eager to get to know the strangers and marvel at their floating home. Sometimes ten canoes would circle us and we could neither work nor rest, as we gave guided tours to one group after another.
I can imagine that crews who sail quickly from one anchorage to the next will soon grow tired of this rush. The trick is to stay in one place for longer: once the initial excitement has died down, life returns to normal and there are only the occasional visitors.
Fewer yachts are coming
You really can’t blame the islanders for their excitement at the sight of a sailing boat: on most of the islands, we were the first boat to visit in 10 or even 15 years! “Yachts used to come here, but they don’t anymore …”
It seems that Papua New Guinea’s reputation as a dangerous country is keeping them away, or perhaps modern sailors are less adventurous and tend to stick to routes recommended on Facebook and NoForeignLand.
Swapping and gossiping
It’s a shame, really, because the locals would love to have more visitors – ‘to tell stories’ (which means ‘to have a natter’ in PNG slang) – but also to barter. In many places, the supply ships that used to drop by sporadically have now stopped coming altogether, and the locals offer sailors fruit and vegetables to swap.
Second-hand clothes, school supplies, sunglasses, reading glasses, staple foods such as rice, sugar and instant noodles, and even household items such as frying pans and towels are in high demand, and we’ve had to restock our gift box several times in the towns along the route. Spinnaker fabric for sailing canoes would also make an ideal gift.
The right gifts
However, we would ask crews travelling in our wake not to give away snorkelling equipment or, indeed, harpoons – the reefs, which have been damaged by coral bleaching, need herbivores such as parrotfish and surgeonfish to keep algae growth in check, and it is precisely these species that are most severely decimated by harpoons. It is better to hand out hooks and fishing line, as the locals use these to catch less important species such as snappers or trevally.
Part 3 of the feature will follow shortly.
Christian Tiedt
Editor Travel