I had the other eye 'de-cataracted' while in Oz (that's 'Australia' to the uninitiated) - I guess that some of you will have also undergone the common procedure - if you have ever wondered about some dude carving into your eyeball while you are conscious, it's incredibly efficient and quick - here's the procedure: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rUCoQzui704.
And so - after wearing spectacles every day for years and years - I now only need them when I want to read smaller print.
So: headed back to Alotau, Papua New Guinea to work with a rather exclusive little resort among tropical vegetation on a quiet bay. However: I flew from Perth to Alice Springs to Cairns but my luggage went to Brisbane (it had been off-loaded in Perth in preference for freight). SO: after overnight in Cairns (I was up at 03.30 to catch a 06.30 flight - my luggage was due in Cairns at 10.30). Flew to Port Moresby, and then to Alotau, arriving on Monday and 'luggageless' until able to collect my bag on the Friday...at least it arrived!
On the short flight from Port Moresby to Alotau I was seated next to an expat gal I knew who owned a motel in Alotau. On arrival at the airport in Alotau a young gal (Aussie) put her arms out for a lingering hug - she was a volunteer dietician on a twelve-month contract to the local hospital. A few days later I was walking around the throbbing fresh food market (as the only pasty-faced individual among milling dozens of locals) and a local gal ran at me for a hug, this one I had worked with at the tourism bureau! I lost track of the number of people I swear that I'd never met before who knew me, and my name! Small town living, eh?
I called into the tourism office where I had volunteered early this year and met up with the key staff member: Rona. I'd heard that she'd been ill but I damn near burst into tears when I saw her, she has cancer - was thin and wasted, her face was lined with creases that were not there before, her hair had gone grey and, if a black person could look 'pale'; that's how she looked.
I thought that I'd get another PNG driver's licence this time and asked a staff member how to go about it. Apparently you need to present your foreign licence to the local cop shop, get some paperwork, take that to another office on the other side of town, pay a fee and get your licence. The message from the police was: "Tell the dim-dim [that's pidgin for a white person] to give us a carton of beer and we'll fix it." Bureaucracy at work!
It was raining pretty much consistently the first week; in fact, lying in bed at night with rain pounding on the corrugated iron roof (and bits of the surrounding rain forest crashing on the roof and balcony) there would be serious rain, then it would get heavier and heavier until it was almost frightening! There was a section of rough road just up from the resort towards the town which had a trickle of water running across and out to sea. That 'trickle' became a virtual river and vehicles were congregating in long queues each side waiting for the water to recede. Some quick research reveals that only 0.001% of the earth's water is in 'vapour' (in clouds) - well it must ALL have been over Alotau - how does all that water stay up there?
Toward the end of the second week, the resort was approached by a couple who wanted to hold their wedding ceremony there. They broached the subject on a Wednesday and wanted the fully-blown ceremony the next Saturday. We needed to close the resort to the public from mid-morning, arrange impressive new decor, convince a minister, create vows, MC the event, speeches, buffet lunch for 30 people - the resort did it all.
On Friday night some staff worked through until 03.00 getting the resort ready. THEN, it almost fell apart: a security company had been contracted to collect the morning staff from home and have them at work by 6am every day - that Saturday they did not. We also had regular guests to feed breakfast from 7am and get ready for the wedding - but no staff!!! A few staff had stayed overnight after working late and there were frantic phone calls and taxis arranged. STILL - all-in-all it went off rather well and the 'happy couple' were, well....happy.
To cap off that evening (Saturday) after the wedding we had a small birthday party booked for 14 people. They rang mid-afternoon and asked for that to be increased to fifty people. SO: we had to frantically clean-up after the wedding and prepare for the next onslaught. That event had 25 adults, 25 kids, full buffet and a five-piece live band which played until 2am!!!
Accommodation at the resort consisted of individual bungalows and they were in the process of building a new large conference room, plus three new bungalows.
Isn't it odd: the little things we humans can do that make a tiny impact on the planet? I was asked to design and oversee the painting of a new sign by the roadside leading to the resort. SO: now there is a huge sign that will be there for many years to come - perhaps I should have signed it?
The grounds around the Resort were virtually tropical forest with large trees festooned with creepers and clinging ferns. The gardens were of bougainvillea, hibiscus of assorted colours, morning glory plus ferns and colourful shrubs. The 'sound-track' was the continuous gentle lapping of the ocean on a peaceful bay. Unusually (but thankfully) for a rural locale: there were no demented cockerels yodelling in the pre-dawn. There were some relaxing, early morning exotic bird conversations which were spoiled when a damn crow (or raven?) added their mournful cawing.
When I was operating the company in Porgera, PNG, most staff referred to me by the common PNG for a white-fella by using the epithet of "Boss". So - while I was only an 'advisor' on this assignment, I was getting more and more involved and instructing as well as training staff. I seemed to have become the stand-in authority - not an unusual situation I must admit - and most staff used "Boss" when addressing me.
For some elusive reason, I seemed to also morph into a position of 'construction manager' for the three new bungalows and conference centre in the throes of construction. Negotiating with builders, electricians, plumbers and assisting in keeping the bureaucracy 'happy' with the required permits and paperwork.....
One day, I was introduced to a guy who was sitting in the restaurant - waiting for a private 'yacht' to call in from Manhattan. The vessel had 6 passengers and 18 crew and someone on board wanted to fly to Port Moresby for the day, so that she could go shopping - so he had chartered a private plane for her. They were cruising around PNG for a month. The 'yacht' had a 40ft 'tender' - that's a 'launch' to anyone else. They were having some problems with one of the generators so were flying in an expert from Holland, and one from America to fix the problem. The previous vessel that the guy had made arrangements for to come to PNG had a private helicopter/helipad on deck. How some of us live, eh?
I thought that these days were well and truly behind me....
One Friday the manager was away for a couple of days - visiting a sick father-in-law way out in 'the bush'. I was asked to be custodian of the keys after the staff had locked up at night and then open the resort at 6am next morning. Of course: some inconsiderate customers just wanted to sit around chatting and drinking, so I did not get the bed until around 1am - tough on someone who's usually in bed reading their Kindle by 8pm!!! That went on for three days! Adding to the mix: the resort had two vehicles and several boats and staff were asking my permission for using them. Stories like their car had broken down and could they borrow a Resort vehicle; and wanting to use a boat go around to the next bay to pick up cargo for a restaurant patron from a barge that had come from Port Moresby........!!!
Somehow, staff then got into a pattern of asking my permission for virtually anything!
At 2am one morning I was awoken by a noise, was not perturbed at first because there were security guards wandering around and chatting. Eventually, I looked out my bungalow window (which faces the office) and saw a guy climbing out of the office window. Then I saw about four guys, all carrying bush knives. I yelled out and they scarpered.
They stole some booze that was in the office (could not get access to the bar!), disabled and stole the CCTV security system, stole a laptop and the EFTPOS machine (for goodness sake) so we could not accept credit cards for a week!
One guard was in hospital with two gashes to the head from a bush knife, another was chased by a guy with a gun - he ran down the jetty, dived into the water and swam out into the bay.
Of course, the staff delighted in telling me that: if the robbers had known where I was - they would have attacked!
My morning routine included breakfast of one poached egg on toast (but was continually served the 'standard' two eggs), wonderful fresh fruit (you can't beat really fresh: papaya, pineapple, banana, passionfruit, mango...), and I received a large mug (not the usual cup) of cappuccino. I'd extract some of the toast to break up and feed to the little zebra-striped fish off the jetty.
Added challenges in this assignment, coupled with the insane requirements of the hospitality industry in which I have - somehow - became embroiled, included: staff seemed to take the duty roster as a polite request rather than a firm instruction. The security firm contracted to convey staff to work often either forgot or were very late and that impacted on the resort's ability to give consistent service to guests and customers.
There was a need for a reasonably consistent internet connection to operate the resort, be in touch with the owner in Port Moresby (or Australia), exchange documents and reports and relate with my head office in Canberra. However: the connection was constantly down - the signal came from across the bay where there was no mains electricity and the operator often ran out of diesel for the generator and we had to wait for the sun to come out and be enough to boost the solar aspect - so, cloudy day: often = no internet!
In the 'Joys of Hospitality' volunteering department - On Saturday, November 1st, I was idly looking through the food orders for the night and saw an entry for: sandwiches and drinks for two guests leaving on a fishing trip at 5am. Being a good little volunteer and checking on 'everything', I foolishly asked: "Who is giving them their packed lunch at 5am?" ...to be told "You are!". I'm still not sure if I should have asked or was I just going to have someone, out of the blue, pounding on my door at around 04.45!!!
In early November the town had its biggest annual event: the Kenu and Kundu Festival (that's 'canoe' and drums to you). The resort was fully booked and I was shuffled in to bed down in the under-construction conference room with the local builders. The event was a showcase for impressive, huge canoes carved out of a tree and taking around 20 paddlers (an amazing sight), some were sailing canoes. Then there were traditional performances and dances by a range of local tribes wearing colourful costumes and huge headdresses made out of bird of paradise feathers - well, that was the guys; the girls and women just wore grass skirts and face painting. I'm a bit jaded by traditional performances now, so even the sight of nubile, bare-chested gals jumping up and down does not elicit my attention for long anymore!
An international yachtsman had heard about the friendly atmosphere in Milne Bay and called into a bay next to the resort after sailing throughout Asia. He anchored, but that night five 'raskals' armed with homemade shotguns crept aboard, held them up, locked them in the head and stole all their cameras and electrical gear - luckily: they were not hurt! Welcome to 'peaceful Milne Bay'! A few days later, a local bus was held up and all the passengers robbed.
The skipper/owner was an interesting guy - his trade was as a rigger and he'd worked for the Cirque du Soleil in China but it had to close because - brilliant though the show may be - the Chinese felt it was all rather old hat and that the performers were cheating with safety nets and wires.
Local villagers just by the resort were digging a grave for one of their departed folk when they came across a WWII artillery shell. The army were called in and exploded it - there was a huge boom which rattled the windows (and our ear drums).
I was scheduled for a two month assignment - but was asked to stay on for another month. As my visa was for 60 days, I was obliged to flit out and back in to renew the visa. So: Alotau to Port Moresby to Cairns - overnight (8pm - 4am) - Cairns to Port Moresby to Alotau. I figured that I was 'in the air' for a total of around 8 hours (four flights) and waited around in airports for another 11 hours!! The return leg from Cairns to Port Moresby was in a 74-seater Dash-8 - there were 12 passengers!
Just as in any similar situation - the longer I stayed: the more involved I became. This one included: hotel/resort accommodation; a busy restaurant; two vehicles; general maintenance; three boats and associated maritime problems; three canoes for customers; manually operated generator to cover the frequent power cuts (and finding someone to turn it on, then off); own water supply from a bore, also manually operated so it could run out then dredge up brown sludge into the bungalows, kitchen, bar, ice machines; on-going construction of three new bungalows and a large conference room; then several charter boats called in to the Resort (charters for tourism and fishing trips) at one stage we had four anchored or moored at the Resort jetty - umpteen million dollars worth floating out there.
Driftwood Resort had rather consistently good reviews on TripAdvisor - including one recently that mentioned little me (have a look)!
Toward the end of this assignment there was an even busier than usual couple of days. We were told that a Very Important Person was coming in on a private cruise boat, the Resort had to sign a declaration that: no one would talk to the person, there would be no photographs, we were not to tell anyone he was coming (or had been there) and not to use his name in any promotion.
We did learn the identity a few days before he arrived but could not even tell the staff.
Are you asking: "Well, who was it?" It was Mick Jagger (Rolling Stones). We did exchange "good mornings" as he passed through!
The next day we had the official opening of the new conference centre - local dance troupe, the Governor of the Province unveiled a plaque and 'cut the ribbon', speeches by dignitaries and a blessing by a fire-and-brimstone Minister. Took rather a lot of planning and all went off well - in spite of a brief storm that swept in off the bay, but blew out before the event started!
The luxury vessel that conveyed Sir Michael (Mick) Jagger was owned and piloted by a distinguished local expatriate (also a former Government Minister) - I was invited on board a few times: had a 'tour', another time some drinks in the saloon and then a sumptuous, scrumptious 3-course dinner cooked by his private chef.
So three flights to get back home - the last one right across Australia - at one stage we were at 12,496 meters doing 865 Km/hr and the outside temperature was -54C.....arrived just after midnight.
PHOTOS ON ---
https://plus.google.com/photos/116314286847914749962/albums/6092162003397887937
Click arrow on the left - then 'slideshow'.