Woke up this morning about 5 am and started getting ready. For breakfast we just grabbed a few handfuls of trail mix to get us by. I'm sure folks would have been more than happy to feed us, but I wouldn't want to ask, and waiting for them to do it in their time would mean that we would wait several more hours. Besides, many of the folks who go out in their canoes just tough it out and go on an empty stomach, bringing food with them to eat later.
The boat was ready to launch at about 6:40. We'd removed all the cargo, paddles, and other stuff that could easily walk, and stashed it at Gadip's house. It took a while to get it all back in place. By the time we were ready to launch about 4 or 5 younger guys came out to help. It was raining but they said that's not a problem as far as the sea is concerned. The rain brings calm waters. It's wind that comes before and during the first part of the rain that really makes things difficult. After that it all settles down even if the rain continues. We found this to be consistently true throughout the trip. There was also no wind so we set out paddling or 'pulim' (pulling) as it is referred to in pidgin. The paddle is aptly called, you guessed it, a 'pul'.
You may be wondering about my references to the Pidgin English language. Papua New Guinea is one of the most linguistically and culturally diverse countries in the world. A country about the size of California, and having over 850 different language groups crammed in has developed over the years a simple trade language called Pidgin English. It allows those who interact within the language groups to communicate with each other. When we are in Mibu, where we live and work, we speak their mother-tongue. But when we're outside of their language area, we use pidgin trade language because their language is different. To give an idea of how diverse the language and cultures are here, in the 90 mile maiden voyage we just took, we encountered no less than 13 different language groups. A couple of them were so small that we skipped right over them without even realizing it!
So we pulled our way up to the point preceding Biliau, about 8km before getting enough wind to make use of. Our gps showed that pulling was giving us an average speed of about 3 mph. We set the sail and began working up to round the Biliau point, called Cape Iris. This point is surrounded by reef and big waves you can see crashing from a long way away. We heard there was a good 'basis' (opening in the reef) here, but from afar it didn't look like there was any. Besides, it was early enough in the day and the weather was still looking good enough that we thought it would be no problem to pass by Biliau altogether and find a place up the coast more to set down for the evening. We didn't want to go anywhere near those big waves! We were a bit nervous though about committing to this plan because our map showed that there is a double layer of reef extending another 6 or 7 km beyond. Our fears proved worth paying attention to as the winds and sea were getting harder to manage.
By the time the conditions were rough enough to really scare us, we found what looked to be a decent landing spot. So we went in, crossing quickly over the double layer of reef and it's breakers... honestly I have no clue how in the world we made it past these. We were clueless and just did it and it went fine. One of those spots where God's hand was in it. We began the approach to the beach, just about to raise the sail, when we realized that there were too many rocks around to be comfortable landing here, we quickly decided to tack back out and look for another spot. Crossed over the reefs and breakers again without incident. We went up a little bit more, feeling pretty scared that we weren't going to be able to land and would capsize out by the reef.
Not far away though we found another beach, crossed the breakers again and headed in fast and hard... too fast, in fact. We raised the sail too late, approaching the beach running before the wind as it blew over the starboard quarter. We weren't in good control of the boat for a landing. Remember, this was going to be our first landing ever. We were turned too far to starboard and I was afraid the ama was going to hit the beach... not good. Then I felt the whole boat lift high, the ama burying down deep as simultaneously a wave lifted the main hull high and a gust of wind pushed hard on the sail. Almost pitch poled! I shouted for Sesi to quickly brail the sail. Chad jumped out, grabbed the rope we had been dragging behind braking our approach while helping point Shan Skailyn in better toward the beach. We'd been dragging that rope behind us in case someone went overboard. Double duty. A couple deft strokes with the steering oar to kick the aft of the canoe over to starboard and I too jumped out into the water to help brake before we hit that beach. The whole thing was not thought out nor executed well. But we landed safely without slamming the boat into anything. After this we had a much better plan we found ourselves enacting with each landing, making for safer, relatively stress free landings the rest of the trip. Each one was a learning experience though.
There was a woman with two small children on the beach. Her unusually bright red dress made her easy to spot from a ways out. She'd watched us come in. She stared from a distance after we landed, clearly not sure what to do about our presence. She was tentative about doing anything and was slowly putting distance between her and us. I called out and asked if there was a village nearby and anyone who would mind helping us out. Didn't take long to figure we weren't fitting whatever fear she had about us and she became friendly and started telling us about her village just up the way a bit. Just a few more minutes produced some young men who came to see this craft not fitting their categories that had just landed on their beach. We told them how we just had to land because things were getting nasty out there and we were scared we were going to die. They said they had seen us out there and were afraid for our lives being in that kind of weather and trying to come in over the reef. And it turns out we'd missed the good 'basis' altogether and just plowed through the reefy areas, areas that they would never venture through in their canoes. Looking back, it didn't look possible that we'd made it through those. It was stupid for us to blast through those like that. Big waves constantly breaking over two layers of reef. You may make it over one, only to find yourself on top of another just a few minutes later. Wow! We probably should have had disaster befall us.
They recommended shoving the boat back out and moving it up to their village about 5 minutes up. We agreed and manually moved Shan Skailyn up the waters edge. A few of them got out there with us and helped. We fought the waves which threatened to push us into the rocks and fallen trees we were passing on the way to their village, but overall it wasn't a difficult move. Once at their village we hauled the boat way up high past where the high tide would later bring the water. We found out the name of the place is called Warai. We were there for the rest of the afternoon and the night. Only a small window of decent weather opened up after our arrival, but it would not have been enough to carry us far before getting into trouble with more winds that followed. Plus we were still a bit unnerved from the day's earlier excitement.
We were immediately asked if we wanted to wash up, apparently a standard practice for someone who's been on the sea. You come in, wash up 'so your skin can get warm' and then you eat. A wash in a nice cool stream sounded pretty nice, so after removing all our gear from the canoe and placing it in our host's house we walked back inland a bit and were shown an appropriate place to wash. Encounters with whiteskins aren't super frequent, but have happened enough that we are stereotyped as not liking their food. They weren't sure what to feed us, but we assured them that whatever they are offering we'll eat all of it. Sesi chimed in too, affirming and telling stories of how I usually finish all the food served me in Mibu. They asked if we would be OK with sak sak, which is processed sago palm. When we excitedly accepted, they brought out a big bowl of fried bananas and fried sak sak cakes. Everything was lightly salted and so stinking delicious! We polished it all off. We continued to sit and story about our day's adventure and also trying to glean their wisdom about the sea. They said that the only good 'basis' or opening in the reef was quite a ways back where we'd come from. And then beyond them, where we were headed the reef continued on for quite a ways as the map confirmed. Once we were outside of that double layer of reef in the morning, we wanted to stay outside of it until we were beyond it. How in the world were we going to get past it anyway? We really didn't want to go all that way back. We talked some more and found out that if the sea is good in the morning that there are a couple closer spots where the waves don't break so big over the reefs.
After talking and asking more questions it turns out that this little village (more of a hamlet really) is comprised of one single family, an old man and his sons and daughters who have houses and families of their own. They clearly prided themselves in the fact that this is a very safe place for strangers, adamantly offering that we certainly don't have to worry about our gear and our stuff here. We were still advised to take quite a bit in the house, but that's just standard in case outsiders wander through.
It was interesting to note that people wandered in from the outlying areas having seen or heard of our strange boat coming in. They came and looked and asked questions and we hung out and talked. All these people are connected and so there were no strangers besides us. Just people coming to see what's going on and enjoying hanging out and talking to the visitors.
After talking a while more food was brought out. Not just skimpy stuff either, but big full servings. Still feeling satisfied from the last meal, I wondered if I'd be able to finish this rice and taro and sweet potato with greens, but I managed to put it all down, glad that I did because I figured we might not eat breakfast again in the morning. After the food, then we were actually served some sweetened instant coffee. Wow! What a treat! Now I'm usually not a big sweets fan, but when I'm traveling and hungry I make all kinds of exceptions. And when Papua New Guineans sweeten their tea or coffee, they REALLY sweeten it! 5 or 6 big spoonfuls of sugar is no surprise, probably more. There is a reason though, it is quite tasty! It was now just about 'tudak' with the sun pretty much set. We were winding down.
Sometime earlier in the afternoon, Chad decided to go off with some fellas who were going to show him how they harvest and process the sak sak (sago palm). He didn't return until after dark, right before I was about to go to bed. He came and sat down on one of the verandas of the huts and was talking to some folks sitting around the fire. I joined him to see how his time went and to just mellow and listen to the conversation. Chad had not eaten since the first round of food (fried sak sak and bananas) 4 o 5 hours ago, and so someone soon was bringing out more food, but not just for him, for me also. Knowing I'd need as much of that nutritional stuff as possible tomorrow I snarfed it down once again. I mentioned my gratefulness for so much food and they responded that we need to 'strongim bel' before we head out in the morning.
One inconsequential thing I noticed while sitting there lazily listening to conversation was that the crabs seem entranced by the fire and can't help but walk into it, sometimes killing themselves in the heat. Isn't that odd?!
Sesi, Chad and I went to bed feeling pretty good about the day and having been able to connect with the people we've encountered so far. They've been so extremely gracious and welcoming and helpful.
Today we'd crossed over the boundaries for 4 different language groups in just about 20 km. They were Wab, Gira, Biliau, and Neko which is the language group within which we stopped for the night at Warai.
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