A step back in time
Frank Hurley’s historic photos of PNG
When world-famous photographer Frank Hurley and Australia Museum scientist Allan McCulloch sailed their ketch Eureka into Port Moresby’s Fairfax Harbour in December 1922, they had every reason to feel pleased with themselves.
They had just penetrated the interior of Papua by journeying up the Fly and Strickland rivers into Lake Murray. They had succeeded in achieving first contact with tribes in the upper reaches of the lake that still practised headhunting.
The duo assembled an extensive collection of artefacts and Hurley took hundreds of photos on glassplate negatives. His photographs captured the diversity of the people and their culture in the Gulf and Western provinces.
He photographed men’s houses, some more than 120 metres long and 20 metres high and which no longer exist, except in his photographs.
As part of the expedition, Hurley even made the first aircraft journey in the country on October 5, 1922, when he flew from Port Moresby to Yule Island and later on to Daru to join up with Eureka.
The plane was a Seagull Flying Boat with an open cockpit and was constructed of timber, canvas and wire. It had an average speed of 60mph (96kmh).
Imagine Hurley’s surprise on his return to Port Moresby when the government welcoming party at the main wharf came on board
Eureka and seized the entire artefact collection, despite Hurley and McCulloch having been issued collection permits.
The colonial administration announced an official inquiry into allegations of improper collecting methods, intimidation and use of force. Witness statements were obtained. Hurley denied the allegations and denounced the lieutenant governor, Sir Hubert Murray, in The Sun newspaper in Sydney for trying to prevent the collection being seen by the public.
While the artefacts were intended for the Australian Museum in Sydney, Hurley was first and foremost a commercial man. Some of the artefacts were wanted by him to serve as props for the release of his film
Pearls and Savages. Ultimately the majority of the artefacts were released to the Australian Museum where they became a key part of its Pacific culture display.
Ninety-five years later, last November, Dr Jim Specht and myself set out with several others to retrace the route taken by Hurley and McCulloch.
Specht is the former head of anthropology at the Australian Museum and co-compiled (with John Field) Frank Hurley in Papua, published in 1984. In 2015, Allen & Unwin published Endurance, my novel based on the life of Hurley.
Even today Lake Murray, in the remote Western Province, remains difficult to reach. There are no connecting roads or
Hurley’s diary describes how most of the inhabitants of Lake Murray fled their villages when they saw the ketch Eureka steaming across the lake.
regular airline passenger services.
Consort Shipping offered us passage on its vessel Kiwai Chief across the Gulf of Papua to Everill Junction, where the Fly and Strickland rivers intersect. From there, the Ok Tedi Development Foundation provided a fast-moving banana boat up the Strickland and Herbert rivers and into Lake Murray, where we stayed at the picturesque Lake Murray Lodge run by Trans Niugini Tours.
On our journey in Hurley’s footsteps we carried with us a large interpretative panel, made of stainless steel and aluminium, on which a number of Hurley’s Lake Murray photographs are printed. Fully assembled, the panel stands three metres high and three metres wide.
With assistance from local elders, the panel was erected and unveiled at Lake Murray station before a crowd of over 300 villagers. The panel contains a short story about the historic meeting between Hurley and the Lake Murray inhabitants and has now become a tourist attraction.
Hurley’s diaries describe meeting and photographing a Lake Murray chief, Homoji, from the village of Dukoif. No such village exists. But on a previous trip to Lake Murray I had visited the island of Usakof in Lake Murray, which I surmise is the location of Hurley’s meeting.
The villagers there know the story of Hurley. One of them has a stained and torn photograph in his hut of his great grandfather Muzi. The subject of the photograph looks proud and self-assured. The front half of his head is shaved and the back has long Rastafarian hair with straw extensions.
It is, in fact, Hurley’s photograph taken of the ‘chief’, who Hurley had described as Homoji.
Most people in Lake Murray have never seen the photographs of their ancestors taken by Hurley, hence the idea of the large weatherproof interpretive panel that shows some of the images and also explains the circumstances of the historic meeting, both in English and the local Kuni language.
Hurley’s diary describes how most of the inhabitants of Lake
Murray fled their villages when they saw the Eureka steaming across the lake. It was only near Usakof that Hurley was able to get within range of a group of men in log canoes that he could call out the only tok ples phrase that he knew, “sambio, sambio”, meaning peace.
The Lake Murray men called back “sambio, sambio.” They were extremely brave because they had no knowledge of these strange white men who were well armed with guns.
Neither completely trusted the other, but they came together in peace and soon were exchanging goods. Women and children, however, remained out of sight.
Hurley was particularly keen to trade goods for human heads because it was headhunters that most excited the audience he needed for his film to be successful.
Over the next few days, he captured a number of wonderful portraits of the men of Lake Murray.
There was much debate as to exactly where the interpretive panel should be erected and our group spent three days in talks with villagers at Usakof and the nearby government station at Boboa. Hundreds of villagers attended the meetings, listening intently, with some occasionally questioning the correct translation into tok ples.
We should not have been surprised by the first two questions from the villagers. “Does the museum still have the artefacts taken by Hurley and McCulloch? “Can we get them back?”
Repatriation of artefacts is a complex issue. To be successful, it usually requires a return to an established, well-resourced museum.
It was the next question from the Lake Murray villagers, however, that was unexpected.
“Muzi was a great chief but he disappeared after Hurley came … did Frank Hurley take Muzi back with him on his boat? No one here knows what became of him.”
There is no satisfactory answer to the question. Muzi went on board the Eureka but there is no suggestion in the diaries of Hurley and McCulloch that he travelled with them. It remains a puzzling gap in the oral history.