Last year we cruised around part of Indonesia. We were heading towards Agats in New Guinea when the ship had to divert to Thursday Island, Australia because of a medical emergency. We never got to see anything of New Guinea. I guess there are only a few places in New Guinea that are good for expedition ships to visit because today, on a different ship run by a different company, we were heading for the same small village.
On the previous day, we passed through the Torres Straits. The channel separating Australia from Papua New Guinea is 150 km at its narrowest point. Although it is an international shipping lane, the straits are shallow in many places and littered with small islands. A few of the islands are inhabited. The indigenous people are distinct from the Papuans of New Guinea and from Aboriginal Australians. However, they are related to both. Despite being quite an interesting area, photogenically it is hopeless. Dull grey clouds. Small, undistinguished islands and very few birds. The only photograph of any worth was one Diane took of the pilot boat leaving.
In the morning, the ship parked well away from the coast. There is a river delta here and the shallows extend a long way. The expedition team wanted everyone to arrive at the same time so they launched all the zodiacs. It took an hour to get everyone into the boats and another hour to reach the coast. It was hot and Seabourn made two rather unfortunate mistakes. On the previous day, they had explained that there was only a single, rather unpleasant, toilet in the village. In the morning, they explained that the sea was a bit choppy so people should wear waterproofs to avoid getting wet in the zodiacs. Many people boarded the zodiac in a state of dehydration and wearing far too many clothes for such hot conditions. It was over 30° C with a blazing hot sun. From our boat of ten souls, one had to be sent back with the doctor in a support boat after only twenty minutes. Another poor woman fainted as we arrived close to the shore. Getting a bit wet in the boat was, in fact, a benefit and good hydration was absolutely essential.
As we approached the shore, war canoes came out to greet us. When I say “greet”, what I really mean is a lot of fierce looking warriors chanting, shouting, banging oars against their war canoes and stamping their feet. Stamping your feet in a dugout canoe probably takes a little practise.
Initially, there were just a few canoes. This was impressive. It went on to become even more impressive as more canoes full of fearsome natives in the full traditional regalia of a magnificent war party turned up. Some of the painted men were wielding weapons. I noticed that the oars had a paddle at one end while the other end was sharpened to a point. The oars were spears.
Slowly, the sixty or so war canoes herded the two dozen zodiacs into the river entrance. The RHIBs were all bunched up closely together. The canoes formed a line right across the river. There was no gap for escape. Still chanting, screaming and stomping they steadily advanced. We were forced bit by bit, further and further upstream until the village finally came into view. Then the drums started.
The Asmat people were known as headhunters and cannibals. Captain Cook was the first person to land here. He put a small expeditionary group ashore but they rapidly retreated sensing danger from the locals. Much later, missionaries attempted to dissuade the natives of their headhunting ways. It was difficult. The traditions were deeply embedded and resilient. Many beliefs and rituals surrounded taking the heads of your enemies. Stories of headhunting raids persisted into the 1990s. Some of the people chanting and waving weapons at me might well have tasted human flesh.
The rhythmic, hypnotic pounding of the drums was joined by singing from the hundreds of indigenous people on shore. Woman, children, the chiefs and many others adding to the cacophony from ethe canoes. In front of another line of canoes appeared. A second army of warriors. We were pinned between two advancing forces. The only sensible thing to do was tie up the zodiacs and get our cameras out.
The two opposing forces held a mock battle in front of us. Their skill in controlling the canoes is exceptional. Just to balance a canoe while standing up is probably beyond most people. To do so with several other people in the same canoe, while paddling, while shouting and while waving weapons in the air is quite remarkable. The groups paddled past each other at full speed missing each other by miniscule amounts. It was truly spectacular.
Battle over, we made our way, boat by boat across the river to a landing zone in front of the enormous Men’s House. This is a large building which is home to the bachelors and also where older men pass down cultural traditions, skills and laws. It is the spiritual hub and the store for sacred items, masks, and carvings. At one time they may have kept their enemies’ heads here. The riverbank was slippery and muddy. Getting safely ashore was a bit of a challenge. I got helped up by one of the painted men that, only minutes before, had been waving a spear at me.
The area floods regularly. Most of the buildings are raised on short stilts. Walkways link the buildings together. We wandered around for a short while and looked at some of the craftwork on offer. Asmat art consists of elaborate stylised wood carvings and is designed to honour ancestors. Many Asmat artifacts have been collected by the world’s museums. One of the most notable are those found in the Michael C. Rockefeller Collection at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. Michael Rockefeller, 23, member of the ludicrously rich Rockefeller dynasty, disappeared close to where were. He was on an expedition in 1961 collecting art when he vanished in mysterious circumstances. He may have been killed and eaten.
The walkways led us round to the front of the Men’s House where we settled down to watch the dancing for a while. The drums were beating complex rhythms while the dancers gyrated. Everyone was painted. Some of the dancers wore elaborate masks. Eventually, the dancing finished and the locals used the space to lay out more artwork and other goods for sale.
A large tray of sago palm grubs was brought out. These grubs are several centimetres long and considered a delicacy. They were offered live and wriggling. A few brave people tried them. Did not really fancy them myself.
Diane said she wanted to get out of the sun and went to find somewhere to sit down. Everywhere was very crowded, very hot and very noisy. I followed Diane but got delayed by someone who had fainted and was being helped to the floor by two of the expedition team. By the time I caught up with Diane she had fainted as well. Many people were fainting with the heat. Not just the older guests but also perfectly fit looking people and some members of the expedition team. Diane was not looking very well. We decided it would be best to get back to a zodiac which would take us to the ship. This proved to be harder than it should have. The ground was muddy and I was having to hold Diane up. However, the worst part were the people that did not want to relinquish their place in the queue for the boats. Very inconsiderate. We finally got to a boat and with a bit of help, got Diane in. Soon as we pushed off, there was a small, delicious cool breeze. I found some electrolytes that Diane could drink. That helped enormously. Finally, with the spray over the front of the boat, she started to come back to life.
It was still over an hours driving to get back to the ship. Fortunately, about halfway there, we came across another zodiac from the Seabourn Pursuit. They were serving chilled champagne. The perfect antidote for hot afternoon.