On the outer edge
A family reunion in the far north of PNG
Days often start with golden sunrises and end with blood-red sunsets that silhouette the coconut palms along the narrow crescentshaped islands that make up the Tilianu Atoll, south of Manus Island.
A dinghy sits on the water outside the family home, alternately stretching its front and rear mooring ropes as we fall asleep to the sound of the sea lapping the shoreline.
We’re in Tilianu village, without telecommunications, electricity or running water.
The coral-encrusted Tilianu Lagoon is a natural aquarium, with many colourful fish visible from our overwater veranda, or while snorkelling in the shallow water.
There are small groups of juvenile wrasse, parrotfish, damselfish, cheeky diamondscale mullets, plus the odd sea cucumber meandering through the sea grass. We occasionally see two small black-tipped reef sharks, patrolling up and down.
Some children claim to have seen a crocodile near the point closest to the lagoon’s entry passage, but not everyone believes this.
The reason for the abundance of sea life is that the dozen families on the island have agreed that there will be no fishing in the lagoon and no collection of birds’ eggs from its bordering islands. This admirable local environmental protection agreement has apparently already started to pay dividends, with more fish being caught around nearby reefs and islands.
The widest point of the main island of Tilianu is no more than 300 metres across, but there is a fresh-water lens that villagers can access when rainwater tanks run low.
Apart from metal roofs, most houses have solar lights and every household owns a dinghy, essential for fishing and transport.
It’s school holidays, so there are many children spending the break at home on the island. This is great – no shortage of willing hands for whatever task is being undertaken – if you can get them out of the water!
Overhanging branches of ancient calophyllum trees along the shore provide ideal diving platforms, and battered driftwood logs that come in on the tide are perfect makeshift canoes to play on.
In various directions, other islands can be seen dotting the horizon, including Rambutso, Lou, Sivisa and Baluan. Visits to wantoks (clan relatives) and tambus (in-laws) in villages on these islands provide an opportunity to trawl for mackerel, wahoo and tuna. Flying fish also abound and we see a pod of frolicking dolphins.
One day we visit M’Bundrou Island, just north of Rambutso Island, where the locals have built three basic but quaint beachside cabins. They’re available for just PGK50 per night for intrepid travellers, including the use of a Rotary-donated waterless, selfcomposting toilet. This is sheer luxury in this part of the world.
This beachside locale is well organised. Villagers can provide meals and use their large dinghy to transport guests from the Momote Airport or to local surfing and snorkelling spots.
Periodically, we watch dark clouds and sheeting rain slowly roll across the lagoon. The rain tops up the water tanks, while also cooling temperatures a bit. Most of the time, however, it is hot, not surprising because Manus
Province is only about two degrees below the equator.
Remembering that this is a village, not a resort, activities of the residents revolve around food. There are fish to be caught and smoked, along with birds’ eggs, firewood and coconuts to be collected on an almost daily basis.
The hardy coconut palm provides timber for construction, firewood, fronds for baskets and brooms, and of course nuts. After husking on a sharpened stake – a skill that takes a while to acquire, I assure you – the nuts are split with a bush knife before being grated. The coconut meat is squeezed, kneaded and filtered to produce a milky solution that’s boiled down over many hours to produce concentrated oil, for domestic use or sale.
Nothing is wasted – the dried coconut meal is fed to the pigs and the nuts burn with an intense heat.
Apart from fishing, locals fill their days visiting neighbouring islands and villages by dinghy, and perhaps assisting in tasks such as killing a pig for a special occasion.
In Mouklen village, on nearby Rambutso Island, family pig pens are lined up along a shoreline facing west, so all the porkers get to enjoy glorious sunsets.
Traditionally, villagers would have traded with neighbouring islands and been self-sufficient.
Nowadays, dinghies with outboard motors have replaced sailing canoes, school fees need to be paid and other small luxuries, such as solar lighting and rainwater tanks, dictate that some cash income must be earned.
The locals have built three basic but quaint beachside cabins. They’re available for just PGK50 per night for intrepid travellers.
Since the demise of the copra industry in the 1970s and current extremely low prices, this once important rural activity has been replaced by small-scale family production of coconut oil, smoked fish and kambang, or lime, for chewing with betel nut. These items are light and easily transported for sale in Lorengau, the major town in the province, and other markets in the area.
Despite this rural micro-economy, many villages in Manus and other island provinces – such as Milne Bay – are still dependent on the remittances from their most important exports – educated individuals who regularly send funds home, pay school fees and similar.
It’s holiday time, so there is lots to do, such as inter-clan sports matches to be played, traditional dancing to practise and church services to attend.
As a marine province of many islands, Manus also offers opportunities for snorkelling, diving and fishing in the reef- studded areas, and deep-sea fishing elsewhere.
The main island of Manus has a range of hotel accommodation, from the Harbourside and Seeadler Bay, to a raft of smaller lodges like Kingfisher, Lorengau and Tharapiyap.
They are supplemented by guest houses, some on nearby islands such as Andra, Pitiliu, Lukini and Palangowou. Many of these accommodation providers can arrange kayaking, diving, snorkelling, village home stays or day trips to local caves, waterfalls, and even surfing locations.
The best way to achieve flexibility to travel around the province is with a boat and guide. This can usually be arranged informally by talking to the locals.
All too soon it is time for us to leave – family ties have been reinforced, village houses painted and the next generation of children, many of who live in other parts of the country, have been introduced to their home cultures.
When we depart, we leave clothes and possessions behind to support those who remain in the village.
For weeks we have been living in the village and blissfully unaware of what’s been occurring elsewhere in PNG, or the world.
Amazingly, on this last day we wake on Tilianu Island, travel in the dinghy to Momote airport and, thanks to Air Niugini, take the daily flight from there to Port Moresby. Village life on the islands of Manus is so far away in many ways, yet still so close.