The Lord's Prayer

Haidana Island - this is the sea we crossed. Picture courtesy of Floyd Lohia Koani, (my grades 1-10 classmate)

 

CHRISTMAS of 1973

Have you ever muttered the Lord's Prayer incessantly when in a very dire situation?

I did, with 7 other school boys in the middle of the deep blue ocean 💙 while attempting to cross from Haidana Island back to Porebada village on Christmas Day of 1973.

Our leader was a kid named Hitolo Gau, whose brothers were the famous Bulldogs rugby league players Tara Gau and Kin Gau.

Late Tara Gau went on to become the famous PNG Kumul second row / prop forward.

Anyway back to the seaweed and flotsam of Christmas day. 

This remains etched in my memory as dramatic as the day I found a baby turtle 🐢 on haidani. 

My old man and I had a minor disagreement on that day, and so lofty snuck off to seek adventures in the village.

It was a fine sunny day. The tide was out and the sandy sand banks that were once a causeway between Haidana and Porebada were exposed to the gulls patrolling overhead.

Haidana lies offshore in Redscar Bay along with Bava and Hidiha islands. Only Haidana can be reached at low tide on foot. 

The villages close to it are Kouderika, Porebada and Boera in Central Province. 

And so the thought of swimming in the sandy shallows brought Lofty to the first sandbank, locally known as 'Boe bada' (big sand bar).

Apo girls, visitors to the island on New Year's day 2022. Picture by Hua Kovae.

Gau and the others were overturning rocks searching for fish and crabs left trapped in the shallow pools by the receding tide.

When I joined, Gau looked at me and said, latana (Lofty) you seem to have a deep pocket, here is the matchbox, keep it dry and safe.

That match box with the famous Redhaired Lady still haunts me to this day.

Anyways we are having a jolly good time. We are onto the next sandbar, and the third one by midday.

The catch is good. We cross the 4th sandbar and reach Haidana's sandy shores. The pandanus trees welcome us.

The catch is guttered, someone produces some bananas and tapioca and dry coconuts.

Firewood is gathered for the feast. Where is the Red Head matchbox? My friends look at me. Hands trembling, Lofty produces the wet box.

It has only 3 sticks left. Three strikes and you're out Lofty. Luckily one of the boys climbs a rock and dries the match.

Soon we have a fire going and the feast is on. Salacious as our little tummies growl.

Then ominous signs. The Lahara wind has picked up and during our frantic search for dry matches and cooking, we had forgotten our tide for the return trip.

A child runs along the sandy shores. Turtles 🐢 still come ashore here to lay eggs. Picture courtesy of Hua Kovae.

Too late Boe bada 1, 2 and 3 are underwater. It's a difficult challenge to cross those bars with powerful incoming tides.

The options are few: either we sleep here tonight, one strong kid swims across and gets help, or build a raft.

There is enough flotsam and jetsam on the island to build a raft. We agree to the raft.

Under Hitolos leadership, the flimsy kon tiki is procured and we hop on. It's like the escape from Alcatraz in shark infested waters between Haidana, Porebada and Kouderika villages.

As we push past the lee of Haidana, the sea goes from green to blue and the waves of Kouderika smash our raft apart.

Only one samang (outrigger) is left. We pile onto that. It is a mad scramble. No-one wants to be the man at the back lest a hungry sharky licks his bum.

Hitolo orders us to sit steady and kick with our little legs. Then he says something powerful. Pray boys pray. In motu, memero, baita guriguri.

The only prayer we know is the Lord's Prayer because we said this at school assembly every morning. 

Tamamai e, guba ai ono homu.... (our Father Who Arts in Heaven).

Every time we got rolled, scramble for safe spots on the log, Lord's Prayer. We are on repeat.

Shiver me timbers, shiver me soul .....

Eventually Lofty tells the pirates, if you don't let me sit in the middle of the log, I  will report you all to my father.

In that village, old bugger wielded a fearsome reputation for putting village kids to the ruler. He was a toughie in the local school.

PNG was still the Territory of Papua and New Guinea under Australian colonial rule. 

The school headmaster was a 'taubada' (expat) and colonial punishment was deemed necessary to keep native kids abreast of 1+1=7 lost fishermen. 

Hitolo, who just happened to be in my dad's class, gave the order, 'when the log overturns, Lofty gets on first'.

But he must lead us in the Lord's prayer. I was the Padre. I  mean I never even went to Sunday school a lot.

From where we were in the water, we could see the Porebada United Church. It was the biggest structure in the village. 

It was our beacon, our course, our hope to steer home. Pray harder boys. 

Little Porebada boys on Haidana. Lofty was about their age when this incident happened. 

We must have been at sea for a good 3 hours. Hitolo tells us, look down into the depths, if you see rocks, we are home.

But we could only see giant manta rays that flew under our feet. The thought of sharks 🦈 chasing those mantas made us kick harder.

And pray harder. We were cold, tired and hungry, our feast on the island having been coughed up in various forms during the rough crossing. 

Shivering, one of the lookouts, shouted 'nadi' (rock).

We all peered into the salty sea for a sign of our salvation. Sure enough the reefs appeared.

Slowly we floated our Titanic log to the nearest stilt house, the local boys piling up onto the 'nese' or boardwalk.

Lofty was too cold. My balls were warmer in the brine and the school was on the other side.

By now it was 4pm. My dearest mum Lorou had enquired at the homes of all our relatives in the village. 

Has anyone of you seen my son? It was Christmas. No-one had seen or heard of Lofty!

Mum was very worried. As any mother would when a number of her flock went missing.

She was standing on the verandah of her best friend Hua's house when mum spotted Lofty.

She shouted "Hua come here, my son, he's floating in the sea." Fearing the worst Hua appears and both let down the sidewalk ladder.

Never seen two fat mothers scramble down a slippery flimsy ladder so fast. Mama mia 💕. 

Rugby league star Dairi Dux Kovae from Porebada was my grades 1 to 6 classmate. He went on to play first grade for DCA, PNG Kumuls, North Sydney Bears, and Newcastle Knights.

I better say the Lord's prayer again. 

But four loving arms lift Lofty out of the drink. Am shivering and they hug me to keep me warm. Mothers knows best.

Eventually mum takes me to the school house. Now remember, I had a rather friendly fire tiff with my dad this glorious morning. 💥

Lofty can you remember the Lord's prayer!

What dad did is nothing to the sharks that sniffed at my toes that day.

My family, from Miaru village became part of the Porebada community. We lived there from 1968 till 1978 when dad passed away while teaching at Porebada Primary School. 

My sisters and I all learned to speak motu first before our mother tongue. We still consider Porebada our motuan home and Haidana our playground.

I do believe in my mind and heart that the Lord's Prayer saved me and my friends that Christmas day so many years ago.

Say a humble prayer for the goodwill for all mankind today. 

Merry Christmas and may the good Lord bless you all ❤💛💚 in 2022.

An Apo man from Goroka searching among the flotsam on Haidana Island. In the far distance is Boera village.

Picture by Hua Kovae.