Guna Bala Bala, Papua New Guinea
The wind was blowing yesterday afternoon when we embarked on the National Geographic Endeavour, at Port Moresby, the capitol of Papua New Guinea. The over-pressured air skipped across the water, frothing the tops of small wavelets, then surged between the dry hills around Moresby. A strange town Port Moresby, modern, yet as ancient as humankind, steel and glass juxtaposed to thatch and bamboo, sophisticated city bred to primal highlander, aggressively driven SUVs to hard-footed wanderers and they stared at us as much as we stared at them, with smiles and greetings on both sides being the most familiar part of this most unfamiliar world.
We went to sea in the early evening with a mix of excitement, anticipation and perhaps a bit of anxiety as the wind was blowing and the safety lines were up around the ship. There were introductions and explanations served up with soothing drinks and plenty of food. But best of all, the night was peaceful, restful, as the ship cut through the small seas with nary a flinch, beneath stars and gossamer wisps of cloud.
Sunrise gave us views of dark forest climbing steep slopes and thin columns of smoke marking isolated early risers. The sea was mostly flat, just small wrinkles to the horizon and beyond. First light also brought exciting news, we had made excellent speed during the night and by mid-afternoon we would reach an ‘everything’ site, a landing ashore and water sports!
In the water we snorkeled with giant manta rays and many of us went diving. Underwater we were swept along through a cacophony of shapes and colors, hard to understand the plot, more like a phonebook than a novel and the often colorful inhabitants stared at us as much as we did at them. Very strange, very unfamiliar, until this regal anglefish gave me a quick ‘Hello.’ and then I knew everything would be just fine, just fine indeed.
The wind was blowing yesterday afternoon when we embarked on the National Geographic Endeavour, at Port Moresby, the capitol of Papua New Guinea. The over-pressured air skipped across the water, frothing the tops of small wavelets, then surged between the dry hills around Moresby. A strange town Port Moresby, modern, yet as ancient as humankind, steel and glass juxtaposed to thatch and bamboo, sophisticated city bred to primal highlander, aggressively driven SUVs to hard-footed wanderers and they stared at us as much as we stared at them, with smiles and greetings on both sides being the most familiar part of this most unfamiliar world.
We went to sea in the early evening with a mix of excitement, anticipation and perhaps a bit of anxiety as the wind was blowing and the safety lines were up around the ship. There were introductions and explanations served up with soothing drinks and plenty of food. But best of all, the night was peaceful, restful, as the ship cut through the small seas with nary a flinch, beneath stars and gossamer wisps of cloud.
Sunrise gave us views of dark forest climbing steep slopes and thin columns of smoke marking isolated early risers. The sea was mostly flat, just small wrinkles to the horizon and beyond. First light also brought exciting news, we had made excellent speed during the night and by mid-afternoon we would reach an ‘everything’ site, a landing ashore and water sports!
In the water we snorkeled with giant manta rays and many of us went diving. Underwater we were swept along through a cacophony of shapes and colors, hard to understand the plot, more like a phonebook than a novel and the often colorful inhabitants stared at us as much as we did at them. Very strange, very unfamiliar, until this regal anglefish gave me a quick ‘Hello.’ and then I knew everything would be just fine, just fine indeed.
