A day out

Raewyn has been visiting me in PNG for the last month or so. Recently, I got to take her for a day's flying. This is her story:

MAF allows overseas visitors to accompany a pilot for a flight, and mine had been arranged for Friday. Bridget had chosen it especially for me, a route that would give me a good range of what flying in PNG is like, a combination of standard and the more difficult airstrips with the best of the country’s scenery, that was her opinion anyway. I was very excited albeit having a few nerves as two of the airstrips we would be landing at were short and had 10% slope.

It was overcast with low cloud at Mt Hagen but Bridget was confident enough that there was evidence of a hole in the cloud for us to be able to climb up above to be able to get going. Right on 9am we departed for Wanakipa, she had indeed read the weather well and found that hole for us to climb up through and very quickly we were above the cloud layer, and not long after we were flying over another valley in which the cloud had disappeared. The landscape is rugged, and covered in dense forest. As we flew along, all the landmarks were pointed out to me, Mount Hagen, Magic Mountain, the Porgera gold mine, the pyramid mountain (because of its shape).

We landed at Wanakipa, it was fine, I wasn’t nervous about that one. We were quickly surrounded by the village people, we got out of the plane and everyone helped unload it. I wanted to take some photos, but was a bit nervous about doing so, how would the locals feel about a ‘white-skin’ coming in and taking photos of their village. I stayed close to the plane, unsure of myself and how to act in this culture that I know so little about. I didn’t feel aloof or better then them, I was just very aware that I am different, and the impression that I might leave behind. In the end my desire to take some photos won out and I tried to discreetly take some around the plane.

We took off for Yifki, an airstrip a short 13-minute flight away, flying low level as it wasn’t worth climbing up too much. To walk between these 2 airstrips, according to the passengers, it would take 5 nights and 6 days. Much quicker to fly! There are so many valleys that are intersecting, and range followed by range, followed by range for as far as the eye can see, of course, with a valley in between each one.

Yifki airstrip

After Yifki, it was a slightly longer flight time to our next destination, Tekin. The first of the D airstrips with a 10% slope and short. En route we passed a few clearings, seemingly in the middle of nowhere with a handful of buildings near them. Some had airstrips but most didn’t. The isolation of villages and the difficulty of reaching many of these places was certainly beginning to make an impression on me.

Tekin is a steep, short strip, with a high range directly at the end of it, it’s a tight valley with a tight circuit, we were flying pretty close to these ranges as we were coming in to land. I wasn’t overly worried about the landing, and I was very surprised at how I didn’t get an appreciation of how steep it was until we touched down and then had to power up to get up the strip to the parking bay at the top. Again the villagers were waiting for the plane and we were quickly surrounded. We jumped out and the agent and his helper both introduced themselves to me and made me feel very welcome. They told me that I was welcome to come back anytime. I was a little braver here, and wandered down the airstrip a bit to take some photos.

On the ground at Tekin

From here we had a charter flight out to Tabubil and back, a full payload both directions. The entire village helped to load the plane and soon it was time to take off again. I hadn’t been nervous about taking off at these strips, I know a downward slope is going to help the plane get airborne, and yet for a split second I was wondering if we were going to get off the ground in time, but we did. The valley was short and narrow with a high ridge line that we had to get over to carry on. Bridget flew parallel to it, until she was sure she had sufficient height to get over the ridge and not get stuck in a downdraft on the other side.

The clouds were becoming more prominent again, so despite the longer distance of this leg Bridge decided to fly lower. She told me the nationals will be happier flying closer to the ground as they seem to think it is safer, but I find it interesting that I don’t like flying so close to the ground! Bridget must start working a bit harder now, finding holes in the clouds where she can see land through it for us to fly through. Some of these holes I feel like she is trying to thread the plane through the eye of a needle! Yet, each time we go through one of these holes there is the ground and then she is looking out for the next hole to go through, always keeping an eye out for other options.

Tabubil is one of the MAF bases, it’s close to the Ok Tedi mine, which I don’t get to see due to the rain cloud hovering over it. It’s a long flat, gravel strip and there’s no issue getting in. We refuel here and the base staff unload the 600 kg of vegetables we have brought in and reload it with 800 kg of trade store goods, aka, 2-minute noodles. I have never seen so many of these in my life until I got to PNG!! Again the base staff are very friendly as I am introduced and one of them seems very excited that this plane load is a plane load of ‘meri’s’ (women) only.

Vegetables being unloaded, and 2-minute noodles being loaded at Tabubil

Heading back to Tekin we fly along the south side of the highlands, and the stark contrast of the ranges to the left and the abrupt change to the flat plains of the western province is quite striking. We start to pick our way through those holes in the clouds again. At one point she decides to turn more northerly, as I look in the direction, I wonder what she is doing as I can’t see through the cloud, and it looks much greyer than those around us. I am sitting there thinking ‘I can see a hole over there, why don’t we go through there?’ We are about to go into cloud, and I don’t like it!! However, as we fly through the wispy cloud, within a second the entire valley opens up before me, I can’t help but say ‘Wow!’ 

Wow!

We come into land at Tekin again, it’s early-mid afternoon now and the wind has picked up a bit. There is a limit on how much of a tailwind Bridget can land with, and it seems to be swirling in the valley. As she flies the circuit she is constantly talking to herself about what tailwind she can land with, how everything is looking, where her committal point is etc. The landing seems no more difficult to me then the first time, and yet she admits to having had to work much harder this time around. We are flying out of here this time empty, and as the villagers help to unload the plane again the agent mentions a group of women sitting on the hill on the other side of the airstrip from where the plane is parked, they were there when we landed earlier, and they had made the comment about the ‘meri’ pilot. Bridget takes me over to greet the ladies and shake their hands, they really seem to appreciate it and I, once again, get to see how she is doing her best to care about these communities and make a difference to the people there.

Ambi is in the Strickland gorge, Bridget thinks this is the most beautiful scenery in the country, and although I have not flown around much of the country, I think I must agree with her. It . . . . . is . . . . . GORGEOUS!!!! I can’t describe it, you must see it for yourself, and as per usual, the photos don’t do it justice. Let’s just say I was mesmerised.

Ambi airstrip (bottom left) and the Strickland gorge

Again it seemed like the entire village had come out to meet the plane, it amused me that by the time we jumped out there was a line of people on either side of the plane underneath each wing. There was a small hill at the end of the airstrip again and Bridget told me that it was a good spot for a photo, I decided to be a bit brave and go amongst the locals to get my photo, as many were standing up there. It was a bit steep and gravelly where I decided to climb up as it was the only route I could see, everyone was yelling something (I thought they were impressed that a waitskin meri was climbing the hill!) turns out they were trying to tell me that I was going up the difficult bit and I should have gone around to the right and up the path! I am glad I was able to entertain them a bit. I saw the path as I came back down, it was lined with people, I put my big girl pants on and greeted them with ‘avinun’ and shook hands with those who wanted to. I decided to walk a little further up the hill and greeted a few more women that were up there before heading back to the plane, on my way down, one old women went to shake my hand, but instead pulled me into an embrace. 

The plane at Ambi

Ambi is an airstrip that only MAF flies into, and not very often, the last time a plane had been here was 3 weeks before. Like all of the other bush airstrips we had been to today they were all isolated, MAF provides a lifeline to these communities, providing medevacs, taking out cash crops for the community to obtain funding, and bringing in store goods for them to live off, reducing the isolation by providing transport for people to get to and from places, all whilst trying to display the love of Christ to them by showing them that they matter, they have worth, they are no different to the 'white-skin' as we are all made in God’s image. By sharing with them when opportunities arise and time allows, by selling Bibles and Bible literature. Our actions matter, whilst they won’t bring someone to salvation, for they need to hear the gospel (Romans 10:14), they matter, for they prove our faith and what we live for (James 2:18), do our actions prove what we say or contradict what we say? 

I hope that my actions within this community have given them a glimpse of Christ’s love, and affirmed what MAF stands for. I just wish I had had the courage to interact with the people at the other villages earlier in the day, and I hope that my self-consciousness has not portrayed the wrong impression.

We flew low again, a similar route to what we had taken this morning. At one point Bridget said to me that there was a lake ahead that was at a higher altitude then we were currently flying, that kind of information blows your mind a little, it’s just weird for a lake to be that high up! It was pretty straight forward getting back into Hagen, especially for that time of the day, it was about 4pm, and often the weather can close in later in the day. It was a beautiful day after what we had left behind in the morning.

Even though I was starting to develop a cold and had a headache, I was glad I went, and I was thankful to have the opportunity to go. It is a day that I am sure I will remember for a long time to come.

Goroka airstrip checks

I recently spent three weeks in Goroka, being checked to as many new airstrips in the area as possible, in preparation for going there for four weeks in July to cover operations while two of the pilots are on home assignment. The two remaining pilots (a) both hold senior management positions, and (b) will be tag-teaming on leave during that time.

I flew with Glenys, and we were able to go to 23 different airstrips in just 5 days! Having done my advanced airstrip training (AAT) course there in April 2023, I was already familiar with many of them, which meant that it was a mixture of refresher training along with 'completely new'. In the process, Glenys was able to see how I dealt with the situation of going to an airstrip for the first time, and was happy to recommend me for a MAF country-wide authorisation - the last restriction remaining on my record.

On the ground at Bomai airstrip - the first on our (long) list

In flight discussion

After the five days of flying together, we had a sixth day where she did my annual proficiency line check. Then I flew on my own for four more days to consolidate the experience.

Here's the full list of the new airstrips I can now go to:

Karimui area (south-west of Goroka)

- Nomane (D, 501 m, 7.7%)
- Aibai (D, 458 m, 11%)
- Guwasa (C, 515 m, 8.5%)
- Maimafu (D, 460 m, 13%)
- Karimui (C, 900 m, 2.1%)
- Pinero (B, 565 m, 0.4%)
- Sorita (C, 720 m, 4.4%)
- Negabo (D, 530 m, 9%)
- Bomai (C, 550 m, 4.7%)
- Haia (C, 640 m, 2.2%)
- Herowana (C, 580 m, 3.3%)
- Wabo (A, 825 m, 0.9%)

Marawaka area (south-east of Goroka)

- Owena (D, 384 m, 12.5%)
- Wuyabo (D, 562 m, 2.8%)
- Gema (D, 470 m, 12.2%)
- Simogu (C, 505 m, 7.6%)
- Norambi (C, 763 m, 1.7%)
- Simbari (D, 480 m, 10.3%)
- Andakombe (C, 500 m, 9%)
- Boikoa (D, 527 m, 13%)
- Sindeni (D, 560 m, 6.5%)
- Ande (D, 482 m, 8%)
- Usarumpia (D, 500 m, 10.5%)
- Marawaka (C, 919 m, 4%)

Wokabaut i go long ples Yaringi

(Walking to Yaringi village)

I was in Telefomin recently for a four-week tour, and took the opportunity to go for a couple of walks with some local ladies. The first was just half a day, to the top of the road heading towards Eliptamin. While we were there we happened to meet a lady whom I had flown from Gubil earlier in the week. She had given birth and was walking home, only four days later!

Following that walk, I talked to the ladies about possibilities for doing a longer walk and staying overnight somewhere, like we had done during my bush orientation. I said, if possible, I would like to go somewhere with a nice view (sampela ples mi inap long tromoim ai i go longwe tru). They discussed for a while and suggested going to a village that overlooks the Sepik gorge, where they had relatives.

Having seen the Sepik gorge from the air, I was keen, and we all made preparation. Joyce walked to the village on one of her days off to let them know I would be coming, and I purchased some gifts (rice, salt, soap etc.) during a trip back to Hagen.

The day arrived, but unfortunately Joyce’s son was sick and she was not able to come with me, but Vero and another lady, Menik, were happy to take me.

We retraced our steps to the top of the first hill, then took a left turn and continued following the bikrot (big road) to the village of Ufek. Past this, the bikrot became a bus rot (bush road - what we in NZ would call a tramping track) and the going got much, much harder.

‘This is the road that goes to Miyanmin,’ Vero told me, pointing at a barely distinguishable track that branched off to the right. Miyanmin would have been an overnight stop for the mama on her way to Gubil. I marvelled even more at the strength and stamina she would have needed.

We passed a couple of lookout points, got our umbrellas out as the rain started to fall, negotiated slippery logs, tree roots, and boggy sections. The sun was getting noticeably lower in the sky and I was starting to get concerned that we might not arrive at the village before nightfall. Vero and Menik didn’t know for sure how much further it was.

Finally we heard voices, and then saw the village. We had been walking for nine hours. The people came to greet us and escorted us to a house that had been recently constructed but not yet used. It had been decorated with flowers and we were encouraged to settle in while dinner was prepared.

I presented the gifts I had brought to one of the community leaders to distribute. Then I pulled out some Bible comics and a calendar that I had recently received from a supporter that had photos of NZ scenery with Bible verses, and everyone was intrigued to see what my country was like. ‘It has mountains, like PNG,’ I explained, ‘but it’s much colder, so there is ice on top of the mountains.’

We had planned to spend a whole day at the village. The next morning, I suggested that I could teach them something from the Bible. They were overjoyed at the prospect and immediately set about gathering everyone together. I considered what to share, and decided to read through Hebrews 11 and give a short commentary on the various stories about faith. I concluded by saying faith is not about what we can see and touch, and having faith doesn’t mean life will be easy for us, but it does mean we will receive the things God has promised us in heaven, which is the most important thing.

After I had finished speaking, and leading the community in prayer, a man stood up and introduced himself. He was from the next village over, and was training to be a pastor. ‘I heard there was a white lady staying here, so I came to see her,’ he said. ‘I listened to what she said and I was very encouraged. I’m going to go back to my village and share this with everyone there.’

I was humbled by this. I had just wanted to go for a walk to a place with a good view. In doing so, I had gained a new appreciation for the lives of people living in remote villages without an airstrip, encouraged them just be being there, and taught them something from the Bible that would be promulgated even further. Indeed, ‘the heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps’ (Prov. 16:9).

The bikrot heading left from the junction

Ufek village, end of the bikrot

Vero leads the way on the bus rot

Sometimes the rot was a tree trunk!

Sun after rain

Vero and Menik take a break and tromoim ai

The house we stayed in at Yaringi

View over the Sepik gorge the next morning

Sunshine at Yaringi village

Saying goodbye

Walking back to Telefomin

Our group stops at a lookout

Reaching Ufek and the bikrot again

A medevac and a mama

I’ve been in Telefomin for the last two weeks or so, on a voluntary outstation tour. Since the start of the year, several Hagen-based pilots have come back from overseas, and two new pilots have joined. As a result, the pilot and aircraft distribution around the country has become quite uneven. Being one of the few Hagen-based pilots with the required experience, the flexibility, and relatively few responsibilities, I offered to go to Telefomin for four weeks to (a) help out the sole Telefomin-based pilot, (b) decrease the pilot-to-aircraft ratio in Hagen, and (c) invoke the old adage that ‘a change is as good as a holiday’.

Telefomin was where I went for bush orientation shortly after arriving in PNG back in early 2022, and will always be special for me. Its only connection to the outside world is by air - although a road from the mining town of Tabubil is under construction, it is not yet complete (despite having had an ‘opening ceremony’ a couple of months ago).

Many of the airstrips nearby fall into MAF’s D category - short and/or steep, or having unique hazards such as unpredictable turbulence, a tricky circuit, or a slippery surface. It was to one of these airstrips that I was summoned for a medevac during the first week of my tour.

Gubil is less than fifteen minutes’ flight time from Telefomin, yet locals tell me it takes two or three days to walk. One must cross two mountain ranges and a sizeable river. It’s not a journey that my patient was able to make. She had given birth on Sunday to the first of two babies, but by Monday the second baby had not yet come, so the community called MAF to help.

The flight to and from Gubil was uneventful, the ambulance collected her from the MAF base in Telefomin, and I continued with my day.

On Friday I had a day off and took the opportunity to go for a day walk with my tupela susa (two sisters) Vero and Joyce. We walked for about two hours up the hill to the north of Telefomin, following the road that leads to Eliptamin.

At the top of the hill, where we stopped for a breather, the road has a junction - one way leading to Eliptamin, and the other to Miyanmin and eventually Gubil. As we chatted, groups of people arrived, carrying all sorts of things back to their villages. Many wanted to know what a white lady was doing there…

A man and two women arrived at the top of the hill and told us they were going to Gubil. The man explained how the plane had picked up his wife earlier in the week, he had travelled on foot, and now they were going back. As he shared more details, it unfolded that his wife was my medevac patient. She had given birth to the second baby in the Telefomin hospital on Monday afternoon.

As other ladies cooed over the two babies nestled in string bilum bags slung over the backs of the two women, I could not help but marvel at this mama who was making a three-day walk home, only four days after giving birth!

More often than not, we MAF pilots never find out what happens to the patients we transport. Sometimes the outcome is tragic. But to not only hear about, but see this lady again, with her two new babies, was immensely encouraging.

A truck stuck in mud on the new road

People walking up the hill from Telefomin towards Eliptamin

An abandoned bulldozer on the road to Eliptamin

Inspecting the abandoned bulldozer

Me with Joyce (holding John) and Vero

A flat tyre

‘Mission Adjusts Frequently’ is an informal phrase we pilots often use in PNG to describe a last minute change of plans, either through oversight or necessity. A few weeks ago I had an experience that fell firmly in the latter camp.

Most Thursdays, one of the Hagen-based pilots flies out to Tari for a few short runs from our base there. My programme was relatively straightforward - one run to Oksapmin and two runs to Mougulu.

The weather was good and my first Mougulu run was uneventful. I had a fast turnaround in Tari, where I removed all the passenger seats and our base staff loaded 1000 kg of store goods for Oksapmin and topped up the fuel for the trip. I landed in Oksapmin just after 12:00 and as I taxied into the parking bay, I felt the right wheel was a bit draggy. Assuming I had found a bit of soft ground, I applied extra power to get the aeroplane into a good position and then shut off the engine.

When I opened the cockpit door, the agent told me there was something wrong with my right wheel. Aha, I thought, not soft ground after all. I proceeded with my normal routine - chocks, tail stand, checking the propeller and wheels, and sure enough, the right tyre was noticeably deflated. I made the usual joke that the tyre was only flat on the bottom, set about unstrapping the cargo so it could be offloaded, and jumped on the radio to MAF HQ in Hagen to let them know what had happened.

I knew I wasn’t going anywhere until another plane could come from Hagen with engineers, tools, and a replacement tyre. I checked in on the radio every fifteen minutes or so, as the bookings office and engineers asked me questions and put together a plan. Thankfully another pilot was doing a line check in the Hagen area and his programme could be altered to accommodate a rescue mission that afternoon - otherwise I would have been spending the night in Oksapmin! (At no stage was I concerned about this prospect; the Oksapmin high school was founded by Glenda Giles, a New Zealand missionary, so I knew the community would look after a female MAF pilot from New Zealand. And I always carry a small bag in the plane with overnight essentials.)

As I waited for the plane to come, I chatted with people and considered options for the return home. The other aircraft had departed Hagen at 1:45, and would take around 45 minutes to reach Oksapmin. Changing the tyre would take at least an hour… so it would make sense for the other pilot to take my Oksapmin-Tari passengers, and collect the seats and Tari-Hagen passengers I had left behind, while I took the engineers straight back to Hagen. When the rescue crew arrived, they had come to the same conclusion.

I didn’t have a lot of fuel on board, expecting to only have to fly back to Tari, but I had enough to get to Hagen with the necessary reserves intact. Thankfully the weather held and I was able to fly more or less in a straight line, with a 10 kt tailwind to boot, landing just before 5 pm.

This was the first time I’d needed rescuing from a bush airstrip, and it was a good reminder that while we may feel like we’re out there flying around on our own, we are actually part of a much bigger team. I could trust that there was a plan being put together for me, even though I wasn’t privy to the conversations. And help is just a radio call away. I'm sure there are some life lessons there...

Oksapmin airstrip

'Hagen, we have a problem'

Engineers Franco and Markus change the tyre

Piano moving - PNG style

Recently, the Hunt family returned to NZ. Jess, Benji and Elliott were on the same MAF orientation as me, back in April 2019 in Cairns. They were the longest-serving family on our compound, and Benji’s engineering and teaching skills, and Jess’ hospitality gifting will be missed. But I look forward to catching up with them again on my next home assignment, and seeing what God does in the next chapter of their lives.

With Jess departing, I was keen to buy her piano. She warned me that it was horribly out of tune, but a few Youtube videos convinced me that with the right tools (and the right app) it shouldn’t be that hard to tune a piano. The bigger problem would be moving it from their house to mine.

I sent a request to the MAF PNG Facilities department, asking if they could spare four or five strong guys for an hour or so on a day I wasn’t flying, as we estimated the piano weighed 200 kg or more.

On my day off last week, three Facilities guys turned up and were about to start moving the piano when I told them to stop, so that I could explain the plan and the technique to them first! They roped in our two compound security guards as well, and we managed to get the piano out of the house and down the stairs.

The security guards disappeared, and the Facilities guys asked if they could finish moving it on Monday! When I told them no, they decided to go back to the base and get some more manpower.

An hour later they returned with three more guys, and between the six of them were able to carry it across the lawn and the carpark. By this stage it was threatening to rain, and when bigger drops started to fall, it was enough of an incentive to finish the job. I think they got it up the stairs faster than it had initially come down!

During the process, two conversations made me smile. The first was when they realised how heavy it was. “We thought it was going to be like Connie’s” (a digital piano). Obviously they didn’t get the memo about the 200 kg!

The second was when the piano was on the ground floor and someone lifted the lid and pressed a few keys. In astonishment he asked, “How does it make a sound when it’s not plugged in?” I opened the top and revealed the answers to both questions.

A couple of days after the move, I disassembled the accessible parts of the piano to give it a good clean and unstick some keys. Then, armed with my tuning kit (a Christmas present to myself) and app, I spent three hours tuning it. When I first played it afterwards, I was immediately transported to my happy place.

Getting the piano up the stairs before the rain comes!

Getting ready to reassemble and start tuning

Post Courier article

Hot on the heels of my Stuff article last year, I took up an invitation to answer questions for the Post Courier as well!

You can read the article here.