21st November 2016 - Tasmanain conversations - Panasea Island limestone caves (Louisiades, PNG)

Monday 21^st November 2016

Life in Tasmania is very wonderful.  So many friends and relations to catch up with…so much chat!

And chastening conversations with the youngest amongst us…

The other day Rose (4½) asked me if I was a teenager.  No?  Well maybe I was a grown-up.  I said yes and she looked at me with narrowed eyes.  “Bardy, are you OLD?”  Well, yes maybe… “Oh, so you are going to die soon,” she said, on matter-of-fact tones.  Katy was horrified.  “That’s not very nice, Rose!”  Rose turned to her crossly and said, “I don’t WANT her to die!  I was just ASKING!”

I told Angela on Sunday.  She had just had a similarly conversation with Oliver (6.)  He told her that when he grows up he is going to have a shop.  “Wonderful, darling,” said Angela.  “I will come to your shop and buy things!”  He looked at her witheringly and said, “Oh no, you will be dead by then!”

Marguerite Pete Chris Angela...oh so old...

12^th October Panasea limestone caves

11 degrees 07 985S

152 degrees 19.939E

Panacea Island

Louisiades PNG

6.5m, beautiful anchorage

Follow that canoe!

Last time we were at Panasea Island (2011) we had tried to get around to the other side of the island to look at the limestone caves.  Too shallow to anchor so the only way is to go in the dinghy.  Putt putt putt…not enough power to combat the strong waves so we turned back.

Michael bare-headed to begin with

This time we followed a canoe around the corner and along the beautiful rocky coast, ignoring the waves.  We paid a bit of money and were led up along a narrow jungle path and up some steep steps and then – a magical cavern, open to the sky!

Long long roots

The stalactites and mites were huge.  I climbed through the cave entrance and then sat looking down (down down down…) while Pete and Michael made their way to the sandy bottom and the sea pool. 

(I was much happier on my perch; it was all very slippery and the thought of slipping and breaking my leg was just too daunting.)

Stalactite

The people of Panasea are hoping this cave will become a major tourist attraction, as I am sure it would be if tourists were able to get to Pansea Island any easier way than a long long boat journey…

On the way back Michael had to wear my shirt as a sort of sun-protecting hijab

18th November - home in Tasmania - betel nut horrors

Friday 18^th November 2016

It’s hard to believe but…back in Tasmania I hardly have a spare minute. My blog is sadly neglected and I still have lots of photos and lots of tales to tell.

Here in Hobart it is just beautiful (of course…)  We have had all sorts of weather – cold, sleety, windy, sunny and, yesterday – over 30 degrees!

I am reeling from USA – Donald Trump the new president, as predicted by the writers of the Simpsons sixteen years ago.  And the death of Leonard Cohen.  I don’t think these events are related but they both make my heart ache…

The perils of betel nut

So far I haven’t been able to find out what is good about chewing betel nut.  Nobody has been able to explain whether it makes the chewers exhilarated, relaxed, happy, manic.  I rather think it is a chill-out drug, but who knows?

What I do know is that it is very disfiguring.  Red gums blackening around the edges, decayed teeth rotting to the roots.  Painful and horrid!  And all that horrid scarlet spit all over the ground.

Rosina and family

People in PNG seemed to us to be very nice parents – relaxed, calm, gentle.  But…we saw quite a lot of very small children with rotting teeth and blackened gums, from betel nut. Rosina, who was a very smart young woman, in the Ninigo Islands, was very defensive when we expressed shock at her dear little three year old daughter chewing and spitting away.  “My husband gives it to her.  I can’t stop him!  She cries, and won’t sleep unless she has some!”

Rosina, sans betel nut

Rosina herself has lovely white teeth, untainted by this disfiguring drug…

10th November 2016 - WTF USA - Moturina Island, Louisiades, PNG - Marguerite falls in a heap...

Thursday 10^th November 2016

WTF USA???

Moturina Island, Louisiades, October 2016

11 degrees 04.543S

152 degrees 34.480E

Moturina Island

5.9m sand, coral

2XS from Daisy's house

Moturina was our first stop with Michael after a day or two on Misima, the main island of the Louisiades.  We had met Daisy before, and she was very keen for us to visit with Michael.

Daisy and me before my fall

In the morning we went for a walk around the village.

All very pretty and peaceful.

Pete was fascinated to find a very big boat under construction.  It is to be a cargo ship for the island, and it is a rather daunting task, all done by hand, with no master plan, just a lot of expert local knowledge. 

Daisy came out to the boat for a few hours, and read some of my magazines, with quite a lot of interest.  Then she went back to her house to prepare our dinner – we had donated a frozen chicken, noodles, onions, garlic.  I had also given her a lot of stuff from our stash – sewing materials, reading materials, clothes, drawing pins, new thongs for her and her niece, Patricia, who lives with her. 

Daisy thought we were lovely people and that I was a very nice lady…

Daisy and Michael

Oh deary me…I am glad I need never see her again; I blotted my copybook…

We were due at Daisy’s at 6.30 and at 5.00 Pete offered me a gin and tonic.  Very nice thank you.  I sipped it in a genteel fashion, chatting pleasantly to Pete and Michael.  Then he made me another one…This was anot a huge amount of alcohol for me; I usually do have two drinks before dinner, and sometimes a glass of wine or two as well.  So…WHY did I get to Daisy’s house, install myself in the one and only chair, and fall asleep with my head lolling back against the wall??

I remember very little of the dinner.  Pete didn’t say much…but Michael didn’t spare me.

“Mum you were HILARIOUS last night!!”

Oh no…was I??  What did I do??

Well…apparently I slept very heavily in my red plastic chair, and then I would wake every now and then to say, in loud and anguished tones, “Daisy, oh Daisy, what do you do when you have nothing to read?  WHAT do you read?  How do you cope?”

Poor Daisy looked at me, Michael said said, with glee, and said, rather puzzled, “Well I just don’t read.” But this did not shut me off…Off I would go, back to sleep, and then I would wake again to ask her the same question…

Michael was a bit amazed, as well as amused.  “What happened to you, Mum?  Two gins and you re falling over drunk??”  I have no idea…but he came up with a theory.  I was tired and emotional, overwhelmed at being reunited with my one and only son.  And I was dehydrated and hadn’t eaten enough during the day.  OK, good-o, I will take any excuse!  But I never want to go back to Moturina…

beachpig and dinghy