Journey to the Skull Cave
Thursday, September 19th – Rally boats are off to Panasia (Pan-a-see-a) today, a mere 8 km from Duchateau. Guy, the rally leader, is very concerned about the fleet getting through the reef and around the bommies (coral heads) in Panasia’s lagoon. The passage is not wide and is not shown on the charts. No one is to enter until he is in and positioned. Then we are to come in under his guidance. Two strategic bommies will be marked, and another one will have a dinghy sitting over it. On Salacia and Avante, veterans of Fiji’s infamous reefs, we wonder what all the fuss is about, but we go along with the program.
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The Rally Fleet makes a pretty sight as it heads across to Panasia. Winds are light. Nearing Panasia, dark rain clouds threaten to move in, but only a drizzle of rain falls. The concern is that the cloud layer will build up to the point where we lose visibility, making entry into the lagoon through the reef and bommies very difficult. The weather holds. An opening in the cloud layer appears, and like a Mother Hen, Guy gets all his chicks into harbor. Aboard Avante, we shake our heads in amusement, for although the pass was tricky, with the good visibility, it certainly should have posed no problem to any of these boats. Maybe Guy’s concern was that for a few of the boats, this could have been their first encounter with a reef and bommies. That, however, does not seem possible since all but us and s/v Eclipse are Australians and would have certainly sailed out to and around the many reefs around OZ. In addition, several of the boats have already traveled around the Pacific islands and experienced reefs along the way. In retrospect, it was a silly exercise, but maybe it just made Guy feel like he had done his job.
Here in Panasia is where we will clear Customs and Quarantine for Papua New Guinea. John, the Quarantine Officer, is stationed in Misima here in the Louisiades, but Sarah, the Customs Officer, is located in Alotau on the mainland of Papua New Guinea. The ability to clear Customs here in the Louisiades has been made possible by the Rally agreeing to pay the Papua New Guinean Customs Office to send an officer over here now to clear us in and again in about 2 weeks to Misima to clear us out. As all government agencies so curiously work at cross purposes, one can clear Quarantine here in the Louisiades, but one must sail further north to the mainland to clear Customs. Quarantine funds an officer in the Louisiades; Customs does not. An incoming yacht needs both. Ease of clearance is the main reason we have joined the Rally. Without the rally we would have had to sail on to Alotau, get our clearance, and then sail 150 nm into the wind to get back to the Louisiades — not a fun exercise at any time.
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Anchored in Panasia, we all must stay aboard until both officers have been to our boat to check us into the country, but as this is a beautiful spot to be stuck on the boat, we are content. The bay is ringed by high granite-like mountains and heavy vegetation. The First Mate is reminded of the Marquesas, even though these are not anywhere near as rugged and precipitous. We can see a small cluster of huts nestled in the palm trees on the beach, and the happy voices of children laughing and playing on shore travel out to us.
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It turns into a long afternoon, however, as we watch the officers slowly being taken from one boat to the next, and it soon becomes obvious that they will not finish their work by the end of the day. Avante is one of the boats at the end of the line. We are going to miss the 1700 muster for Sundowners on the beach! An announcement comes over the radio, John, the Quarantine Officer, has granted us a reprieve. All those boats not cleared by quitting time may go ashore this evening.
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1700 – Uncleared, yet unhindered, we head ashore. What a dramatic setting! A fringe of sandy beach, huts scattered in the shade offered by the trees running back from the beach, and all sheltered by a towering vertical rock wall.
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A large sign, constructed by the villagers, welcomes us to their island. Eager youngsters come out to help us beach the dinghies.
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This is Happy Hour for us, but the islanders do not drink and will not be joining us in doing so. We are told that we may bring whatever we want to drink ashore, but we should do so discretely. Cover a beer can with a cozzie. Keep wine bottles in an eskie (Australian for a cooler). The village is out in force to see us. We are as strange and different to them as they are to us. Several of the adults come forward to talk, but many hold back, content to just watch the show.
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Darkness descends early here in the tropics. By 1800, dusk is well upon us. Guitars are brought out, and in no time a ring of mesmerized children sit quietly listening to an impromptu concert.
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Friday, September 20th – Amazingly, our officials, John and Sarah, show up on our boat at 0730. When The First Mate considers the restrictions posed by the usual run of Quarantine officialdom, she nicknames the whole thing: “Food and Bugs, Alcohol and Drugs”. She had been told that eggs would be the only item of concern. Fear of avian bird flu is the reason. She has her yellow plastic egg carton out in prominent view eager to hand over the 3 eggs they regretfully did not use on passage while 3 dozen other eggs lie quietly in their neat cartons hidden inside pillows around the cabin. No way are they going to spend 6 weeks in the Louisiades without The Captain’s favorite eggs and rashers breakfast! It is not an everyday event for The First Mate to flout the law. It took daring on her part. Nerve, lots of nerve, and she is really disappointed that John, the Quarantine Officer, does not even ask about eggs or even note her carefully exposed egg carton. What a let down! He just fills out his forms. Sarah, from Customs, fills out her forms. Juice is offered while we sit talking about the universal problem of teenage kids until we remember that other boats are waiting. By 0830, all boats are officially cleared into Papua New Guinea, and all yellow quarantine flags have been removed to be replaced by the PNG courtesy flag.
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What’s in store for today? A trip to the Skull Cave on Little Panasia! We all meet on shore at 0900. It is a 3 km dinghy trip to Little Panasia, and not everyone can fit all the people they have on board into their dinghies for the trip. We divide ourselves up between 2 long boats which the villagers own and the fleet’s more powerful dinghies. Under a gorgeous blue sky, we charge across the bay passing Salacia and Avante at anchor.
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On Little Panasia, we follow our guides along the shore a short way and soon start a rocky ascent inland. The vegetation is dense, and if it were not for the narrow path worn through the rock and shrubs and recently cleared, probably for us, the way would have been impenetrable without wracking away with a machete.
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What goes up, must go down. We descend into a valley walking across it to the final climb to the cave itself. Above us is a narrow opening in a massive rock wall. Gingerly, we climb up watching carefully where we place our feet in the jagged rock, grasping vines and tree limbs for balance and support.
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Narrow and rising upward, the cave itself only has room for a few of us at one time. Not knowing what to expect, we climb inside. Skulls are lodged in nooks and crannies. Several rest together in a recessed corner with other skeletal bones and what look like chards of pottery.
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Another peers out over a rock ledge. It is a ghastly sight. The First Mate attempts to question one of the guides about the meaning or purpose of the cave. She knows that the natives of these islands were once cannibals. Was this a ceremonial burial site or was this a dumping spot for the deposed enemy? Language and translation pose a problem. She learns little, as our guides themselves really don’t know how these bones got here. There is no recorded history for this culture. The First Mate remembers from her reading of Thor Hyadahl’s book Fatu Hiva that caves like this also existed in The Marquesas.
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On the return trip to the beach, we pass a hillside grove of young banana and papaya trees which had been neatly terraced with the rough rocks that make up this island.
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Returning to Panasia, we are in time for the luncheon that the ladies of the island are hosting for us. While waiting for the final preparations, The First Mate wanders over to the cooking area of the compound and observes a woman retrieving biscuits from an ingenious oven. A shallow pan filled with biscuit dough forms had been placed upon hot rocks. A metal sheet next covered the pan, and hot rocks were placed on top of the sheet to create the all-around heat of an oven. Using two flat sticks, the woman removes the stones from the top of the metal sheet.
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The biscuits are tested for doneness. Not quite ready, she recovers the pan with metal lid and hot rocks.
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Back on the beach, The Captain is entertaining the kids with one of the many bottles of bubbles he brought along for the trip. The kids are ecstatic and eagerly chase after the bubbles. “Me, DimDim, Me, Me!” they beseech him. He’s the star of the beach for the hour and is quickly dubbed “The Bubble Man”.
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The women’s lunch presentation is the most impressive we have seen across the islands. A lot of thought and effort went into this luncheon from the colorful tablecloth to the bright arrayed dishes. This young woman, who agreed to be photographed, has every reason to be proud.
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Woven baskets await our investigation. How ingenious! What is inside these little treats? Later as we carefully unwrap them, we discover savory bites of rice and fish. How delicious and how clever!
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The food is both interesting and tasty. Among the selections are a chicken in coconut milk dish, lightly battered fried fish, a variety of very good bread muffins and biscuits, plain rice and steamed sweet potatoes. The biscuits, whose baking so intrigued The First Mate, are delicious. She learns from Gwen, the leader of the women chefs, that they have papaya in them. Somehow, she decides she is going to get the recipe or try to figure it out herself.
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After last night’s bountiful lobster feast and this afternoon’s scrumptious lunch, both The Captain and The First Mate are cautiously hopeful that island feasts here in the Louisiades, of which there are many planned over the next few weeks, will be interesting and tasty repasts rather than the steamed, unseasoned root vegetables and tough scrawny pork we have come to expect through sad experience. Tonight we are to be guests at our first island pig roast. We have our fingers crossed — toes, too!