I have been many places in the world, but my dream
destination has always been Papua New Guinea (PNG). For various reasons,
however, I have just never made it there – until now! I am very excited to see
some of the many and varied tribes, and I am also nervous because PNG has a
reputation for being a dangerous place to travel due to pick-pockets and a
history of tourists being beaten and robbed. However, I felt that I would be
safe enough given that I was traveling with six other people for the majority
of my trip and our group would always be with local guides. I was also nervous
because for seven days I would be traveling with six people I had never met!
Questions raced through my head: Would I like them? Would they be good travel
partners? There were many other questions, too, and all had the same answer:
Only time will tell.
Days 1 & 2– San Diego to Cairns: I have survived the epic
airplane journey beginning in San Diego and flying to Los Angeles, then
Auckland, and finally arriving in Cairns, where I will spend the night. Why did
I fly to Cairns via Auckland, you ask? Because the plane ticket was less
expensive – now I know why. Next time I
will save time, not money!
The Cairns Esplanade was really pretty along the
water’s edge. Since there is no beach in Cairns per se, the City built a
gigantic freshwater pool with sand around its perimeter, called the Lagoon.
Also installed were many large pieces of public art to entice locals and
travelers alike to stay and enjoy the Esplanade. There were many, many people
hanging out around the Lagoon/ Esplanade and I wished that I had more time to
relax.
My evening plans consisted of going to Tjapukai
Aboriginal Cultural Park for dinner and an Aboriginal show. It was a bit
touristy and required audience participation. Egad! Because there were only
about 25 guests we all actually had to participate because the performers were
watching us. I couldn't stay hidden forever so I eventually gave in . . . and
got my face painted, clapped my hands, sang, shouted, stomped my feet, and even
danced. Like I said, there was no hiding.
The Aboriginal songs and dances told tales about the lives of kangaroos
and emus as well as the lives of the Aboriginals. Of course, one of my favorite
instruments was played: the didgeridoo!
Day 3 – Cairns to Port Moresby: Gazing down at the Coral Sea from my seat on the
flight from Cairns to Port Moresby I could see numerous atolls and fringing
reefs. The colors of blue ranged from pale blue close to shore to aqua, azure,
cobalt, and finally to almost black as the depth of the water increased. My
excitement amplified as I knew that I would be scuba diving in the water of PNG
in the coming week.
After disembarking at the Port Moresby airport, I
grabbed my luggage and headed for the Airways Hotel. This is an amazing 5-star
(albeit gated/guarded) hotel in PNG! I never expected the opulence. I am not
sure what I expected, but certainly not Zen gardens, small interior waterfalls,
cushy lounge chairs in the cafe, a gym, a day spa, and shopping (including Crabtree & Evelyn,
Dunhill, and a store where you can have a suit made for you). I was staying in
the lap of luxury tonight!
Not only that, but tonight
I dined at one of the best restaurants in all of PNG – the Bacchus Restaurant
located on the grounds of the Airways Hotel. It was at dinner that I met four
of my traveling partners: Ally from Los Angeles and our group leader from the
PNG Tourism Authority, Leslie from
Honolulu, Tara from Boston, and Shirley from Toronto. The other two travelers
would join us tomorrow afternoon. The food at the Bacchus was delicious, the
service was impeccable, and the conversation engaging even with jet lag
overtaking us.
Day 4 – Port Moresby to Mt. Hagen: This morning our group of five women made it through
the chaotic check-in process at the domestic terminal of the Port Moresby
airport. When Ally went through the boarding-pass checkpoint she chatted with
another (local) passenger for about one minute and as much as possible given
the language barrier. We settled down in the waiting area and were talking and
getting to know one another. As the
other passenger walked passed us she shook Ally’s hand and gave her a kiss on
the cheek. Then she shook Tara’s hand and gave her a kiss on the cheek, and did
the same with Leslie, Shirley, and me. No words. No explanation. Just kindness.
No one in the U.S. would ever do that! When I asked Ally about it she said that
most people in PNG are very friendly and that the lady’s actions were not out
of the ordinary.
At the Mt. Hagen airport we were met by
Michael, our escort to Rondon Ridge Lodge. We took the van through the
countryside instead of through town. The countryside is green, mountainous, and
very beautiful. The 45-minute drive to the lodge was on a mostly gravel road,
sometimes wide enough for two cars. The
villagers along the road would yell “hello!” and wave at us and we would wave back
with just as much enthusiasm. The kids had huge grins on their faces and at
times would run behind the van screaming and waving. We passed several “
farmers markets” where women sat on the ground with their piles of purple sweet
potatoes, greens, cigarettes, or whatever else they were selling.
The lodge, built in 2006, is perfectly situated on the
ridge overlooking the valley of Mt. Hagen. The view is spectacular. After lunch we went for a walk in the rain
forest and then down the road to go “marketing.” Instead of saying they are “going shopping”
or “going to the market,” the locals say they are “going marketing.” As we walked down the dirt road everyone
waved to us and yelled out “hello.” For
some reason the locals really love having their photos taken. They are happy to
oblige when we ask them and at times the locals come to us and ask us to take
their picture. Once at the market most
folks stand and shyly watch us. Our guide introduces us to four men from his
clan and they all want to shake our hands and chat. When asked questions about
their lives they eagerly answer – in English no less – telling us about their
education, government, how they live, what they grow on their farms, about
their pigs, and more! As we say our
goodbyes, they shake our hands again and some of the kids follow us for a short
time. Once again, everyone has been friendly and given us a warm welcome. While we were “marketing” the other two
members of our group arrived: Lesa from Boulder and Maree from Los Angeles.
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Day 5 – Mt. Hagen to Tari: This morning we woke at 6 a.m. and then drove back
down the hill to the Mt. Hagen airport to catch our flight to Tari. We drove
through the town of Mt. Hagen and passed a “Best Buy.” Best Buy in PNG is a grocery store. Once we
saw that we just HAD to stop and check it out. We all walked in and instantly
went in separate directions. Some of us went to the meat department and saw
pigs’ heads sitting on ice along with other pig parts, whole fish, sheep
innards, and more. Tara and I headed to the bakery department to see what
pastries and bread items were offered. Tara decided to purchase a small package
of corn flake biscuits. Next we headed to the potato-chip aisle to see what
flavors they offered (the flavors of the chips in various countries are an
indicator of the foods they eat).
Once all of us had made our purchases we loaded back
into the bus and headed to the airport. Check-in took about three minutes in a
one-room building and then we had an hour before the plane arrived. We had
passed a small market about a block away from the airport (more like a landing
strip) so opted to walk down the street to check it out. Locals at the market
were again sitting on the ground or a box with their fruit, veggies, cigarettes,
betel nuts, popcorn, and other items displayed on tarps, newspapers, or boxes.
The cabbage, carrots, string beans, cucumbers, sweet potatoes, and other
produce items were huge and looked delicious. They are all organic with no
pesticides used and no fertilizer needed given that the soil is so fertile.
Again, everyone was friendly, saying hello to us and wanting to chat with us. I
started chatting with a local about his garden and produce and within minutes
about 10 people were standing around us, listening and even participating in
the conversation. Eventually, it was time to head back to the airport.
Upon arrival at Tari we were picked up by Joseph and
transferred to Ambua Lodge. Ambua lodge was
built in 1998 outside of the town of Tari on a ridge. The
view was amazing. After a brief introduction we are given the option of
sleeping in a traditional Huli Wigman-type hut or a more modern room. The
Huli-type hut is down a bunch of stairs and requires a bit of a walk on an
uneven trail while the modern rooms are the same level as the common area. Anyway, we all choose the hut – why stay in a
room that looks like a regular hotel room when you can stay in a hut? The view from the wall of windows was of a bright
green rain forest and valley.
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Since it was pouring rain we sat for about an hour
with Alice, one of the staff and a member of the Huli-Wigman Tribe. She spoke
of the Huli tribe from a woman’s viewpoint and shared some of her own experiences.
All men have to pay a bride-price for a wife. Right now the agreed-upon
starting bride-price is 31 pigs. But if a woman has gone to school as a child
and/or has a western-type job then the bride-price may be higher. Once married
the woman is the property of the man as are any children she bears him. The man
is allowed to have up to five wives if he can afford them. To get divorced from
a Huli man, the woman must buy her freedom by refunding the bride-price, which
can sometimes be impossible. Other tribes don’t require the payback of the
bride-price for a divorce.
It stopped raining after Alice finished her talk so we
were able to convince Joseph to take us on a hike to a nearby waterfall. The waterfall was beautiful and we even saw a
rainbow across the fall as the sun began to shine. We then tried to go birding
up by the Tari Gap, but the mist and fog were too much and we could not see
enough to make it worthwhile.
Day 6 – Tari: This morning we woke at 6 a.m. and were out the door
by 6:30 to go birding! Our Huli guide for the day was Thomas. We drove up the
road to the Tari Gap, stopping at various locations along the way. We
identified 15 different bird species including a King of Saxony (female), a
brown sicklebill, and a ribbon-tailed astropia – all bird-of-paradise
species.
After about 90 minutes of birding we headed back to
the lodge for a quick breakfast. Shortly thereafter, we loaded back into the
van for a full day of touring in Tari. We drove down the hill from the lodge
for about 15 minutes when the van stopped and parked on the side of the road.
Across a drainage area there was a berm with a lovely little gate. I had been
admiring similar gates as we drove from place to place and wondered what was
behind the gates. We went through the
short gate and walked down a small path to a cleared grassy area, and into the
Huli Wigman village of Tigibi. On one side of the clearing were small benches
made from tree trunks. On two other sides of the clearing were items for sale
hanging from tree branches and twigs or laying on the ground. These items
included hornbill bird/pig tusk necklaces, snake vertebrae and seed necklaces,
fiber braided armbands, beaded headbands, pigtail “laplap” (a cloth skirt with
actual pigs’ tails adorning it), and other items made mostly from various parts
of animals. Also milling about the clearing was a man whom we later found out
was the spirit medicine man. He let us take photos of him and with him and then
wanted to see the picture on the camera screen. When he saw his photo his eyes
would get big, he would smile, and say “Ooohhhh.”
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After we milled about for 10 minutes or so, seven men
appeared with faces painted yellow/red/white and headdresses in various stages
of adornment, as well as other traditional items. They would bang their drums and hop up and
down for a few minutes at a time and then stop for a minute to catch their
breath. They must have repeated this for several minutes, at which point they
stopped to give us a greeting as translated by our guide, Thomas. After the
greeting Thomas pointed out some of the items that they were wearing such as
which bird the feathers came from (bird of paradise, cassowary, etc.). They wore laplaps along with leaf
skirts with fresh leaves as a bustle over their backside. They wore the
hornbill/pig tusk necklaces, other decorations, and their hair wigs. It was explained that the pigtails show the
wealth of the man – the more pigs the richer the man. The order of importance
of owning things was pigs, land, and women – yes, in that order. After the
explanation we were allowed to take photos with and of the Huli men and they
seemed to love it. They were real characters even photo-bombing a picture at
one point with a set of eagle wings behind Shirley’s head. They allowed the
seven of us to get in line with them and bang on the drums while Thomas took
our photos. We all tried to hop up and down together, but that didn’t work out
so well. It was fun though..JPG)
Our 2nd stop of the day was to the “school” where the Huli wigmen grow their hair to make their wigs. Again, we parked on the road, hopped over a ditch, and entered the school through a small gate. There awaiting us were six men in their laplaps and some with human-hair wigs. They explained that a male can only be at the school to grow his hair if he has not had “relations” (i.e., sex). If he has had relations then he cannot attend the school. For a fee of 300 kina (about $120 USD) per man, a man lives at the school, grows his hair, and learns to weave and do other trades under the guidance of the teacher. The students have to drink a special water and say a special chant while sprinkling water on their heads three times a day for 18 months. They also sleep with their head on a bamboo railing so as not to mess up the shape of the hair. The students do not shampoo, comb, or brush their hair for this 18-month period. At the end of the 18 months a specialist comes in and shaves the hair off while keeping it in one piece. The man then pays the specialist around 700 kina (about $275 USD) to shape the hair, bind it to a frame, and make it wearable as a wig. The man then decorates it with feathers, leaves, twigs, grasses, or other items as he wants.
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Next up was a lunch stop at the “village” of a local
politician. The village was really a couple of huts, one of them being the
lunch area. Lunch was set up on the table. The “toilet” consisted of a proper
toilet seat situated on a box that had been built over the river, all behind a
bamboo wall.
After lunch we headed to a third village -- the
Village Study. Here we met the men of
the village at the Men’s hut while the chief did a fire-starting demonstration.
Huli women are not allowed to enter the Men’s hut in the village and the men
are not allowed to enter the Women’s hut. However, our group of seven
(non-Huli) women could enter the men’s hut. It was small, dark, and smoky,
consisting of a fire area in the center and sleeping areas on the ground and
not much else. At the Women’s hut was the chief’s wife; nearby, the farming
area. As a demonstration, one woman was
covered in mud (simulating a woman in mourning) and was sitting with her guide.
Women in mourning may not be alone.
On our way back to the lodge we stopped at a roadside
stand to buy betel nut, mustard, and lime so that Leslie and Tara could try
chewing it as the locals do. I had tried
it before and had no desire to do it again. Leslie and Tara popped everything
in their mouths and started chewing and chewing and chewing. It was funny in that all the local women and
kids gathered around us to watch and laughed along with the rest of us.
After a quick stop at the lodge we then went for a
hike around the property to see more waterfalls, having to cross three rope
bridges that were structurally amazing.
Day 7 – Tari to Loloata: This morning we rose again at 6 a.m. and were out the
door at 6:30 am to go birding. Today we went into the jungle to see the
ribbon-tailed astropia and other birds. It was amazing to traipse through the
jungle. After breakfast we headed to the airport for our flight to Port
Moresby. On our way to the airport late this morning we passed a group of seven
to 10 boys hanging out on the side of the road. As soon as our van neared them
they turned around and mooned us! It was hilarious! We could hear them roaring
with laughter as we drove down the road.
After a delayed departure and a two-hour flight we
arrived at Port Moresby airport. We were picked up by Loloata Island Resort
staff and driven to the Loloata dock about 20 minutes south of the city. Once
at the dock we transferred our luggage to a ferry. Now dusk, we watched the sun
set from the ferry’s deck. The sky was a fantastic orange and a warm wind was
gently blowing. As I glanced to the east I noticed a bright, orange glow behind
some mountains. The glow got brighter and brighter as a gigantic moon rose over
the mountains. It was one of the largest full moons I have ever seen -- a
Harvest Moon -- with no ambient urban light to dilute the intensity of its
glow. Spectacular! We all watched it quickly rise over the mountains, turning
from a beautiful soft orange color to cream to white as it rose into the pitch
black sky.
Once at Loloata, a few of us attempted to order a
drink: Grey Goose vodka (as printed on the menu shown to us) and cranberry
juice. While we took our turns ordering we each got the blankest stare I have
ever seen in my life from the waitress -- no clue. However, at some point it
was determined that cranberry juice is probably not existent in PNG and likely
the cause of the blank look. It was our fault. So we all changed our orders to
vodka and Sprite. Still, we got a blank look and then our lovely waitress left
the table so we decided to go to the bar. When Tara went to the bar and ordered
the Grey Goose again she was handed a box of grape juice. “Grey Goose” sound
like “Grape Juice.” No wonder our waitress had that look on her face. Why would
anyone want to mix grape juice and Sprite together?
Day 8 – Loloata to Port Moresby: This
morning we rose, had breakfast, and then Shirley, Maree, and I went diving. We
were the only divers on the boat. Melissa, the dive shop manager, was our dive
master for the morning. We dived End’s Bommie and the MV Pai II. The visibility
was about 20 feet at the surface then when we dropped down it cleared to about
60 feet. We saw rockfish, pipefish, a
huge cuttlefish, large schools of fusilier, lionfish, a beautiful notodoris
nudibranch (bright yellow with black markings), a peacock mantis shrimp scurrying
about, many mantis shrimp holes, tons of other fish, soft and hard corals, and
plenty of other marine life. The dives were really great here.
After our dives and lunch we all loaded on the ferry
again and headed to downtown Port Moresby. Once at the Crown Plaza in the
central business district of Port Moresby we freshened up and then headed over
to the Cosmopolitan Club for the opening event of a conference we were
attending. The Cosmopolitan Club is a very posh, upscale club located in a
fashionable shopping mall in Port Moresby. Of most interest to me were the
musicians, the Bamboo Band and dancers from the island of Bougainville. The instruments are stacked bamboo “pipes” of
various diameters and flip flops used to hit the opening to make the sound. It
was fascinating to watch and listen to the music.
Day 9 – Port Moresby:
This morning we all got into a
bus and drove about 90 minutes or so out to the trail head of the Kokoda Track
in Owers’ Corner. From Port Moresby the
road to Owers’ Corner begins as a four-lane paved road and then transitions to
a two-lane paved road, then to a two-lane gravel road, and finally to a narrow
one-lane gravel road with grass in the middle -- all the while climbing up in
elevation. The scenery is absolutely spectacular, with sheer volcanic walls covered
in vegetation.
Upon arrival to the trail head we all clamored out of
the shuttles and some of us started walking down the trail. It is incredibly
steep and like the terrain we passed along the way – volcanic and covered in
vegetation. The Kokoda Track, one of the top 10 most-difficult treks in the
world, became famous during WWII when the local tribes helped the Australians
fight against the Japanese. The approximately 60-mile hike takes eight days on
average with trekkers camping in very remote villages along the way.
Traffic was horrible on the way back into Port Moresby
and it took over two hours to get from Owers’ Corner to the Royal Papua Yacht
Club where we had lunch. What a dichotomy! The town with a horrible crime and
poverty reputation in a developing country has a beautiful yacht club and
marina filled with yachts. The city of
Port Moresby is really divided into two worlds. There are the poor – mostly
subsistence farmers who have come from their villages to work in the big city.
They are uneducated and not at all prepared for the change in lifestyle so they
wind up selling betel nuts, produce, t-shirts, flags, and other stuff on the
side of the road and living in shanty towns. Then there are the corporate
business employees – consultants, engineers, and other professional staff from
developed countries working for the LNG (liquefied natural gas) project or the
mining companies living in expensive apartments or at 5-star hotels. The most
expensive house in Port Moresby costs $13,000 per week (not month) and average
apartments go for about $2,700 per week.
Tonight we stayed at the Grand Papua Hotel in Port
Moresby CBD. This is a posh hotel!
Day 10 – Port Moresby:
Today is all about meeting
representatives from hotels, resorts, tour companies, and airlines in PNG. We
also took a short tour of the renovated Port Moresby Nature Park, which was
rather interesting, with its snake, cassowary, avian, and other animal
enclosures and a plethora of plant species from around PNG.
That evening we gathered at the pool area of the Grand
Papua Hotel. After the presentation, Ally (our group leader), a man named
Rhett, and another woman got up in front of everyone. Ally played guitar, Rhett
played harmonica, and the other girl sang. They picked a few songs that we all
knew and our entire group chimed in loudly at the chorus. Apparently, the hotel
staff heard us and started gathering to watch as we got louder and louder. It
was a bit surreal standing in the dark with our group singing. Apparently, the locals
had never seen anything like it and were either enthralled or shocked. Who
knows!
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Day 11 – Port Moresby to Alotau (and Tawali Dive
Resort): This morning at the airport I said goodbye to my
new-found friends: Ally, Lesa, Leslie, Tara, Shirley, and Maree. We had such a
great time together. I now was on my own as I traveled from Port Moresby to
Tawali Dive Resort. Upon disembarking the plane and wending my way through the
other passengers, I found the resort’s representative, Manny, waiting for me.
Once my luggage came out, we loaded into a three-seat truck and off we went,
bouncing down the road over many potholes. As we made our way over the mostly
gravel road (a short segment was paved) the locals would stop and look at us.
The kids usually would yell, smile, and/or wave at us. The drive to a small
boat dock situated at the easternmost end of PNG took about 90 minutes. Upon arrival at the dock, our skiff with boat
tender Jonah was waiting for us to take us the last 15 minutes to the
resort. Waiting for our arrival at the
resort dock was the general manager (Noel), the receptionist (Sienna), and one
of the waitress offering me a cold coconut.
A lovely welcome indeed!
After lunch I got my dive gear out and headed to the
dive shop for my check-out dive with dive guide Alfred.
Day 12 - Tawali:
Today I made three dives – two
at Deacon’s Reef (left and right sides of the wall dive) and one at Lawadi (a
muck dive). All the dive sites were fantastic! The coral was healthy and there
was a ton of fish! I saw a few marine species that I had never seen in almost
20 years of diving. So very exciting!
Tawali Dive Resort is a wonderful resort built amid
the remote jungle on limestone bedrock. The rooms are very large, each with a
private balcony and air-conditioning. There’s a swimming pool, kayaks, a bar,
restaurant, and diving/snorkeling right off the dock.
Day 13 - Tawali:
Today’s dives were made with
George as my dive guide and Manny as the skiff driver. We headed about one hour
from the resort to a fabulous area and dived on Cherie’s Reef, Tanya’s Reef,
and Cobb’s Cliff. The current was ripping through Cobb’s Cliff so that was a
little stressful, but diving Cherie’s and Tanya’s reefs was absolutely
fantastic! There were so many fish – thousands, possibly hundreds of thousands
– so many that it was mind boggling. I didn’t know where to look. Luckily,
George kept pointing out interesting marine animals to me -- all of which I
otherwise would have missed -- such as the tiny Milne Bay pygmy sea horse on
Cherie’s Reef, the largest, most beautiful tridacna clam I think I have ever
seen (at least five feet long -- I know because I measured myself against it),
a turtle, a few reef sharks, stonefish, a soap coral crab, nudibranchs, a sea
spider (awesome!), star pufferfish, and so much more. We even saw five manta rays between
dives. What an amazing day!
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Day 14 - Tawali:
This morning I woke at 4 a.m.
so that I could go bird watching. Since the other two guests didn’t want to
join me I was on my own this morning. This morning’s outing would be very
different from the other bird-watching outings this trip. I loaded up on the
skiff with Manny as the driver. It was
pitch black at 4:30am, so we puttered slowly along the water. After about 30
minutes a flashlight blinked in the distance from the shore. Manny turned the
boat toward the light and in minutes we were at the beach. A man and a young
boy (maybe seven years old) were waiting for me. Manny told me to go with them
and that he would wait for me. What? It’s dark and I had never met the man and
boy. Go on my own? Okay, I guess. And so I follow Gilbert into the darkness
with the boy following me and a dog following the boy.
Gilbert is a slight, quiet man of about 30 years and
he handed me a flashlight. I followed him, a little freaked out by the whole
situation. It is pitch black and Gilbert tells me to wait so that he can grab
his machete. Luckily, I know that all PNG men carry machetes with them to cut
the fast growing vegetation back along the trails. With machete in hand we
three and the dog proceed to hike through the jungle in the dark. We cross a
couple of streams, trek through a lot of mud, and up some seriously steep
hills. I had no idea where we were going as very little was explained to me.
Gilbert stopped a few times as we climbed so that I could catch my breath – did
I mention that it was really steep?! Not
only is it steep, but it’s a jungle and so we clambered over tree trunks and I
often tripped over roots. My legs began to shake from fatigue – and I thought I
was in shape. Ha!
As we climbed, no one spoke and the dog only barked
once before getting a quick smack. After 30-40 minutes of trekking we stopped
again and Gilbert told me to sit down on the ground, be quiet, don’t use the flashlight,
and don’t use a flash on the camera. I realized that we were waiting for one
specific bird type and not really bird watching. Around 6:00 am every morning
several male raggiana bird-of-paradise,
a gorgeous reddish-orange feathered species, fly to the tree that we were
situated beneath to dance in hopes of attracting a female. And so it was that
at 5:30 am we were sitting on the trail and waiting – Gilbert, the boy, the
dog, and me. As the sun started to rise
and the light barely reached us through the thick rain forest, Gilbert
whispered to me “there they are.” He
heard them before he saw them. So I looked up, craning my neck every which way.
Finally, I see them above me – five or six of the male raggianas hopping about and dancing from branch to branch, the
light just starting to shine through their feathers. The males dance on the
branches and make their calls all in the name of trying to lure a female for
mating. We watched for about 45 minutes, alas no females showed up. Eventually, it was time to head downhill and
back to the boat. So we four, three humans and a dog, trek down the hill.
Gilbert stopped early on to cut a sapling down and made me a walking stick.
Thank goodness, for without it I would have fallen on my face many times going down
that hill.
About three-fourths of the way down the hill I notice
that the boy is no longer behind me. At some point Gilbert also realizes this
and calls out. From afar a little voice responded in the local language.
Gilbert assured me that everything was fine. About five minutes later the boy
showed up with a handful of leaves in one hand and an unrecognizable fruit in
the other. It’s this morning’s breakfast, according to Gilbert. He will steam
the leaves and eat the fruit raw.
When we reached the beach the whole village was
waiting for us: some with their necklaces, headbands, and bilum (a woven string
bag) for sale on the sand; and others just to see what the tourist looked like.
With relief I see Manny waiting for me and eagerly hop on the boat. Gilbert
also hops on the boat. It turns out that he is a security guard at Tawali. I
wish someone had mentioned that to me before I headed into the darkness with
him.
After breakfast I did another dive at Lawadi, the muck
dive site. This is the single dive site that makes me want to move here for
about six months so that I can dive it three times a day. There is so much life in this mostly barren,
black-sand and easily silted dive site and I am astounded. Today we saw at
least two different species of pipefish; a strange crab that I still haven’t
identified; frogfish; popcorn shrimp and other commensal shrimp; leaf fish; a
variety of nudibranchs; mantis shrimp; the beautiful but deadly blue-ringed
octopus; along with so many more species. We spent 90 minutes underwater and I
still didn’t want to leave!
Day 15 - Tawali to Brisbane to San Diego: Good-bye to Tawali. I can’t wait to return. Today I
traveled from Tawali to another world that is Brisbane, Australia. Tomorrow I
will head back home to California, but my memories of PNG and experiences will
be happily etched in my head forever. Diving at
Tawali Dive Resort ranks up there with Indonesian dive sites and was some of
the best diving I have ever done. I am already planning a trip back to
PNG. Won’t you join me and others in
July 2015 when I return to Tawali to dive for a week and then travel to Rabaul
for the annual Mask Festival?
