August

Location: 141-16-00E, 2-41-00S, Vanimo, PNG
Time: 6.00pm, 5th August

From Port Moresby to Vanimo. From terrifying storm to ocean so quiet I dare not whisper. From flesh eating infection to warm, body drying sun of late afternoon. From pseudo shark attack to a clown fish, peeping from the reef and questioning, rightly, who really is the clown. From allegations of piracy to a grandmother crying for a stranger upon her shores. It's been a journey not counted by kilometres or even days, but by people, villages, beaches and bilums. Stories are falling out my left ear as new ones enter by the right. I'm full, I'm done, I'm finished, and still I know nothing of PNG. I have more questions than when I started, and am more confused than a labradoodle in Boga Boga. If you're a student, I hope you learned some climate change science, or at least thought about how lucky you are that a flood hasn't washed away your school, or a volcano showered burning rock onto your head. For others that have followed the daily ramblimgs, I trust you have learned from my mistakes and will endeavor to make many of your own. To the many who have helped make this project possible, my kindest thanks. Especially Bec Hughes, my sister-in-law and expedition coordinator, who managed a new baby amongst my daily email demands and the odd phone call requesting emergency medical evacuation. You did a superb job Bec. To my brother James and his welding supervisor Ben, I look forward to testing the kayak bike trailer you've built. My parents, brothers, granny's and relatives who have chipped in more than just financially. Sponsors Australian Geographic and Utas SET. Peter Vincent and Jim Yomipisi at PNG Tourism Promotion Authority. Rebecca Skeers at Webmistress, and Peter Jerrim who were involved right from the beginning. And an incomplete list: Hi-lift Company and the Chang family, Warren Dutton, Andrew Storey, Chris Abel and Masurina Lodge, Alotau Hospital, Jack Buia and the Isidiudiu village, Simon Tewson and Tufi Dive Resort, Sir Peter Barter and Madang Resort. My final thankyou is to the people of PNG who found a strange seakayaker from Australia washed up on their doorstep. They never once turned him away, always welcomed him, and couldn't help but to send him on his way with more than when he arrived.

This is the last PNG posting but only the beginning for Expeditionclass.com. Beginning when I arrive back in Cairns next week are preparations for a bike journey to Melbourne. The purpose is to share the PNG adventure with students and others through the presentation: "Lik Lik Kanu- The Adventures of a Novice Kayak Sailor in PNG." Ten percent of all money raised will be used to purchase medical supplies for the Alotau General Hospital. The remaining 90% will help fund the 2009 Expeditionclass.com adventure learning journey. 8in8in8 is an attempt to scale the 8 highest mountains in the 8 states and territories of Australia in 8 months. (If it had been 1988, I could have called it 8in8in8in88!). I will use only cycling, paddling and walking, and start/finish in Hobart, Tasmania. Yep, that means two Bass Strait crossings (sorry Mum). The learning focus will be lessons on Australian Geography and expedition skills. Every week I'll be online for students to talk with directly about their new knot tying ability or camp stove cooking expertise. It will be a huge adventure learning year. You can support the Expeditionclass.com goal, which is to put the expedition into every class, not the class into the expedition, in any or all of the following ways;
1. Direct donation. Through the website or contact me by email.
2. Book a presentation of "Lik Lik Kanu" for your school/club/company. Entry will be $10 adult, $5 student, and free for very poor people and Norwegians. Dates for when I'll be passing east coast towns and cities over the next 3 months will be posted here in 2 weeks.
3. Sign up for email updates so I can continue to harass you. Weekly reports will be posted from the beginning of the east coast bike ride.
4. Teachers and students, I need your feedback. What worked well, or didn't work at all? What might make the site a zillion times better for next year (and cost no money)? Be critical, my shoulders are much stronger now, I can take it.

So as the sun sets in the Sandaun Province, thanks for coming around PNG with Expeditionclass.com and I look forward to our next adventure.

Location: 141-16-00E, 2-41-00S, Vanimo PNG
Time: 7.00pm, 4th August

A distant thump and grumble... horizon light. The stars of Taurus, Orion, Sigma... space light. Paddle strokes full of phosphorescent dots... sea light. Check the compass... headlight. The shorebreak had halved overnight and I pulled through without losing an eye. For two light filled, pre-dawn hours, I stole along the coastline like a dream thief. The scattered camp fire not bright enough to catch me. When uncovered by the rising sun, I paddled harder, waking up and warming up. Puan, Lietre, Ningera, tick, tick, tick. Vanimo, tick. A hearty dinner, no tick yet. Time to eat and sleep, no more paddling for a while. Full summary and final entry tomorrow evening, including the announcement for the 2009 expedition. It's a cracker.

Location: 141-48-00E, 2-55-00S, PNG
Time: 7.30pm, 3rd August

62km, unpredictable wind, a thumping shorebreak, and a (dark) 4am start. Put them all together and you have a recipe 'I'm-not-sure-if-this-is-a-good-idea Cookies '. I'm going for the ridiculously early start in case the breeze continues from the west. I'll need all the daylight plus a few dark hours to knock off remaining distance if that's the case. One scenario is me waking at 3am, sitting on the sand for half an hour, being frightened by the booming thuds, a fruit bat landing on my head and scratching my eyes out, and me going back to bed until 5.30am. Another is me waking at 3am, pulling the wet paddling gear on, strapping in and pushing off, being slammed in the face by a slab of unseen rushing water (making my eyes pop out), having the kayak drive into my legs (breaking them), and washed onto the sand like a limp, soggy biscuit. In the third scenario, I wake at 3am, pull on the wet gear, line up on the sand, pull through the lull in waves, and head at 300 degrees to Vanimo. I like the third one best because I retain use of my eyes. All three are possible, we'll have to wait for morning.

Location: 142-10-30E, 3-04-30S, PNG
Time: 8.10pm, 2nd August

The non-collapsible sail collapsed this afternoon. Wedged between the onslaught of the Bismarck Sea and the stubborn refusal of the Hope and Grace to surf sideways, it snapped. It also dumped me upside down in front of many spectators. There were many delightful minutes of concern and bewilderment before my story started to make sense. The kayak was lifted by six men to the quarantine station. I'm camped behind the bush hut. On the water it was a testing day of storms and westerly wind. If it continues I may have to take an extra day to Vanimo. Correction, I WILL have to take an extra day. Let's cross our slothful toes it swings back to the south-east in the morn.

Location: 142-28-00E, 3-09-00S, PNG
Time: 8.10pm, 1st August

What little light was left in the day was fast being overwhelmed by the storm. It massed in the mainland mountains and rolled tongues of black cloud over the sea. The grumble grumble was constant and threatening. I'd aimed for Angel Island, for hours it had seemed to get no nearer. Now I could see a figure on the beach, it was Stanley. Only 30 people live here, their gardens are on nearby Soleo Island, and water has to be collected in tanks. Ten small dwellings built of bush materials dot the swept sand. I wish I'd arrived earlier in the day. Some places have a special feel that's hard to put a finger on, this is one of them. And even those three-toed sloths can join the countdown now!