My bookshelf is filled with an eclectic selection of titles — fish identification books, photographic and software instruction manuals, maps, novels, guidebooks and the chronicles of history’s great explorers. But it is my collection of handwritten dive and travel journals I cherish the most. Filling the pages of these dog-eared diaries are my own words and crude little sketches chronicling 27 dive trips to the most memorable place on the planet: Papua New Guinea.
After traveling back and forth to this remote island nation for more than two decades, Papua New Guinea (PNG) has become a second home to me. I’ve built strong friendships with dive operators and kind, gracious villagers. With their help, I’ve had the opportunity and support to dive many of the country’s stunning coastal regions.
Each time I return, I have to adjust my ears to the wondrous words spoken in fast Tok Pisin, an English-based creole that serves as the country’s lingua franca. Moning tru means “good morning,” and tenk yu tru puts a special twist on “thank you.” But best of all are the words for scuba dive: swim aninit long sol wara translates into “swim underneath deep salt water.”
Located to the north of Australia, from which it gained its independence in 1975, PNG encompasses the eastern half of New Guinea, the world’s second largest island. The western half of the island, formerly known as Irian Jaya, has been called West Papua since 2007 and is currently governed by Indonesia.
Startling contrasts in topography shape PNG’s exotic scenery. Rugged, near-impenetrable mountain ranges lead to the country’s highest peak, Mount Wilhelm, at 14,793 feet. Lush valleys and rainforests cover most of the interior, and coastal plains drain some of the largest river systems in the world. Active volcanoes stretch along the north coast of the mainland and offshore along the islands of New Britain, New Ireland and New Hanover. Volcanic formations dot the turquoise waters of the Bismarck and Coral seas, creating a patchwork of coral reefs fringed by picturesque sandy beaches.
Vibrant Inhabitants
The tortuous topography has utterly separated the people. As a result, PNG is one of the most culturally diverse countries on Earth, with more than 850 indigenous languages and at least as many traditional societies, out of a population of almost 7 million. The country is one of the world’s least explored — culturally and geographically — and many undiscovered species of plants and animals are still thought to exist in the interior.
Far from being the bloodthirsty cannibals of lore, the Papuans are a friendly, vivacious people who treat their guests with hospitality and respect. Their traditions and elaborate bodily adornments are every bit as colorful as their rainbowed reefs.
PNG is also known for its exotic and colorful birds. At one end of the feathered beauty scale is the bird of paradise with its resplendent plumage and elaborate courtship displays. At the other end is the flightless cassowary — a throwback to the Pliocene epoch with a bright-blue, crested, reptilian head. Weighing up to 128 pounds, this fearsome bird can run 30 mph, gulp down fist-sized fruit and disembowel a predator with one swipe of its sharp claws.
Occasionally, discoveries are made in the mammal department, including new species of tree kangaroos, big-eyed cuscus (a member of the opossum family) and bats that inhabit the dense, mountainous forests. And PNG is still a veritable frontier when it comes to underwater exploration.
Kimbe Bay
My very first foray into diving PNG was in New Britain’s Kimbe Bay, and to this day the bay is still my top pick for marine biodiversity. I have filled many hard drives with images from Kimbe Bay, not to mention countless rolls of film before digital came along. Schools of batfish, trevally and barracuda are the poisson du jour on Bradford and Inglis shoals. Forests of sea fans and red whip corals are the norm on Susan’s, Vanessa’s and South Emma reefs. It’s the little things that change; depending on the season and water temperature, ghostpipefish can be found blending in with the corals. Pygmy sea horses, numerous colorful nudibranchs, shrimp and crabs provide an endless array of photo subjects. For those not interested in photography, watching a pair of twinspot gobies clean their dens or a blue ribbon eel collect tiny organisms from the current is a great way to spend a dive. There are times when I think the observers have more fun and come home with far more behavioral knowledge than those of us always peering through a camera’s viewfinder.
No one knows the reefs around New Britain better than local legends Max Benjamin and Alan Raabe. Benjamin and Raabe operate Walindi Plantation Resort and the liveaboard dive vessel FeBrina, respectively. The two are longtime friends and share a passion for conserving and protecting the area’s reefs. Benjamin donated land next to the resort to establish Mahonia Na Dari (Guardian of the Sea), an organization dedicated to research and education. Their outreach programs teach the local community and children from all over PNG the value of the marine environment.
Witu Islands
Outside Kimbe Bay are the wonderful Witu Islands. Located only a few hours steam to the north, these small outcrops provide some impressive big-fish action. Current is life, and if you can hold your position on Lama Shoals (also known as Crack-a-Fat Reef) you will be treated to a visual spectacle in the form of sharks, barracuda and jack. It’s a fascinating display of predators and prey, each checking out the other in a dance of life and death.
Dick Doyle is another memorable character on the local scene and a dear friend. His family has worked a cocoa plantation on the Witus for years. Here you will find Dicky’s Reef, Dicky’s Knob, Dicky’s Cut and, finally, Dicky’s Place right in front of his house. A word of advice: Be careful with the anemones here and elsewhere in PNG. At Dicky’s Place, there is a particularly nasty species that unfurls at night and can inflict truly unpleasant stings. Even in paradise, danger sometimes lurks.
Eastern and Southern New Britain
Many excellent dive sites can be found around New Britain. Father’s Reef is located to the east of Kimbe Bay near Lolobau Island. From here I’ve watched Ulawun, a sometimes-belching volcano, spew smoke during a spectacular sunrise where the clouds were lit up as if the volcano had set them on fire. In the water, spinner dolphins come to play, and the reefs exude a boundless energy that is physically tangible.
When it comes to belching volcanoes, the town of Rabaul offers constant activity. Rabaul is also a great launching place for diving New Britain’s south coast. I joined Raabe aboard FeBrina many years ago in some early explorations of this less-visited side of the island. In 2002, I was part of an Explorers Club flag expedition to dive the source of the Isis River. The trip up the river from Waterfall Bay and deep into the heart of New Britain’s rainforest was an adventure to remember.
New Ireland and New Hanover
Diving in and around Kimbe is, for me, akin to visiting an old friend. Exploring the Kavieng region to the north, on the other hand, is more like encountering a crazy uncle. Dive sites such as Planet Channel and Albatross Pass can provide wild current rides that make Palau’s Blue Corner seem like a Bonaire night dive. Hold on to your regulator as three knots blast you along the reef, past gray reef sharks, manta rays and schools of jack and barracuda.
It is equally satisfying to dive these high-energy sites during slack tide. More contemplative time can be spent investigating the voluminous gorgonians and forests of bright-red whip coral, which benefit from the nutrients supplied by the current. The reef shallows harbor a variety of camouflaged goodies. My favorite place to find stonefish is a reef called Nusandaula, where grumpy fish faces can be seen gazing up from the coral. The stonefish look at divers with undisguised contempt. I think it’s a measure of humanity we are able to regard such ugly, poisonous critters with something approaching fondness — or maybe it’s due to PNG’s magic.
Gulf of Papua and Port Moresby
Eastern Fields is a very lonely set of reefs located in the middle of the Gulf of Papua. Because of the remoteness, lengthy crossing and exposure to the elements, Eastern Fields is dived only at times of the year when it’s flat and calm. There are no islands to hide behind when the weather deteriorates. The reward for such isolation is reefs that explode with color and action. The largest soft corals I’ve ever encountered are here; some are as tall as me. They stand like lone baobab trees in the African savanna.
If long steams to dive sites aren’t your cup of tea, there are plenty of great opportunities for diving right around Port Moresby, PNG’s capital. Most divers just want to get out of this bustling big city as fast as possible, and Loloata Island Resort is not far. Located in Bootless Bay, the resort is sufficiently distant from the noise and crime. From this oasis it is possible to dive such signature sites as Suzie’s Bommie and End Bommie that are sure to amaze. Here divers can find wobbegong sharks, schooling sweetlips, batfish and Rhinopias — a genus of scorpionfish and one of the most coveted fish for underwater photographers. The Rhinopias here come in a variety of colors — yellow and black, green and black, reddish brown and black and even pink.
Milne Bay and Tufi
On my most recent trip to PNG I visited Milne Bay and Tufi, near the southeastern tip of the mainland. I had been to both places before, but neither could ever get boring. Milne Bay is inhabited by many of the most desired subjects for underwater photographers in PNG. It is best known for excellent muck diving or, to use a more appealing name, critter diving. The dives take place over silt or black-sand banks that harbor some of the strangest, most alien-looking creatures you will ever see. Eagerly anticipating our first dive of the trip and close encounters with these miniature oddities, we boarded our liveaboard, Star Dancer, and began making way to Samarai Wharf.
Samarai Island has a rich history. During colonial times plantation owners used the area as a beautiful escape to spend quiet holidays with friends, but the tranquility ended during World War II when the Empire of Japan attacked. Today, dive aficionados know Samarai Wharf has an abundance of marine life and beauty that is unmatched.
As the sun gets higher and penetrates the wooden planks of the dock, shafts of light dance through the water column. The piers are fully encrusted with brilliant sponges and corals, all homes to small fish using them as safe harbor from predators. Thousands of silver baitfish gracefully swirl around the piers as if participating in a May Day celebration, while lionfish stalk them from below. At the bottom, I picked through some rubbish, and out of a protected pipe appeared two very beautiful harlequin shrimp. In and around their den was a collection of starfish — enough to feed the hungry little predators for days to come. There was so much to see beneath the wharf that I wished we had more time to search for the beautiful and unusual.
The incredible diversity of marine life in Milne Bay makes it possible for even the occasional visitor to discover a new species. During a previous trip, Milne Bay dive veteran Rob van der Loos pointed out a small clump of brown algae on the silty bottom. I knew we had found something weird when the clump blinked at me. It turned out to be an undescribed species of octopus that has not, to my knowledge, been seen again.
Just outside Milne Bay is Lauadi, a black-sand slope that, upon close inspection, reveals bobtail squid, mantis shrimp, Inimicus (the ugly devilfish), sea moths and sea stars. The cast changes with the season, so you can be surprised with each return dive or visit. Although the Milne Bay area is known as the critter capital, there are myriad beautiful reef structures here as well. Doubilet’s Reef is, without a doubt, one of the most stunning, and not far away is Jason’s Reef, where cuttlefish and Rhinopias abound.
Last on my long list of memorable dive areas of southeastern PNG is Tufi Resort, located on Cape Nelson in the Oro Province. Here, beautiful fingers of land reach out into the Solomon Sea in dramatic, plunging valleys. They look like fjords, but they were formed by the eruption of three volcanoes rather than by glaciers. The area offers memorable diving along with a rich cultural heritage.
The Oro Province tribes embody warmth and friendliness and take great pride in sharing their traditions. With stunning facial tattoos (worn by many of the women) and dramatic headdresses sculpted from shells, feathers and greenery, the Oro people welcome visitors into their villages to glimpse their fascinating lives.
A Rich Cultural Heritage
The cultural aspects of PNG cannot be overlooked. All too often divers forget the connection between the incredible biodiversity of the marine environment and the diverse people and traditions that help sustain it. The friendships I have made during the past two decades of visiting PNG have proven to be my most cherished. They have led me to have a better understanding of the relationship between a rich culture and a healthy marine ecosystem.
Nothing has fired my passion for this subject more than the time I spent working on a project called “Headhunt Revisited.” In 2005 I embarked on a photographic expedition to tell the story of an adventurous young woman named Caroline Mytinger, an American artist who abandoned societal expectations at home to pursue her dream. From 1926 to 1930, she traveled throughout Melanesia capturing the heads of tribal people — in beautiful painted portraits. By telling Mytinger’s story, I hope to engage Westerners in a greater appreciation of the Melanesian culture and help keep pride alive for the beautiful people of this part of the world. Without the help of my dive friends and extended family in PNG, this two-month-long journey to retrace Mytinger’s footsteps would not have been possible.
For those prepared to travel thousands of miles in search of somewhere colorful and wild, PNG represents the very essence of romance. I’m already longing to be back on its enchanted shores. To speed my return, perhaps I need to remove my hands from the keyboard, buy another charming little empty book and once again use a pen to scribble and sketch my way across that very magical place.
© Alert Diver — Q1 Winter 2012