Rabaul Historical Society

2011-02-19T22:40:00.001-08:00

The following recollections are those of Brett Hilder whose first hand recollections of the 1937 volcanic eruption in Rabaul are both interesting and fascinating.

After nine years' sea service, and with a Master's Certificate, I rejoined Burns Philp as Second Mate of the S.S. Montoro on the New Guinea run. This was my favourite ship, partly for the sentimental reason that she had been launched in the same year as myself, 1911. She was a popular ship, loved as much for her failings as for her homely virtues.

Location map for Rabaul

On my second trip in her we were lying at the wharf in Rabaul, discharging cargo in the humid heat and surrounded by the circle of dead, dormant and steaming volcanoes. At mid-day we were sitting out on deck having our lunch, when a violent 'quake shook the ship and rattled the plates around the table. Rabaul is noted for its shakes, locally known by the native name guria. This last shake was one of a series which had been getting worse daily, but as there hadn't been an eruption for nearly 60 years, there was no undue alarm. The sea-level fell several feet and rose again like a flood tide or bore and it was reported that some reefs near the entrance had risen a few feet and were now nearly awash. We left Rabaul that afternoon for our next port, Kavieng, and had just left that port the following day when we got our first news of the eruption. this included an S.O.S. for us to return to Rabaul to help evacuate the town.

By midnight, when I came on watch, it was bright moonlight, in fact everything seemed to be whiter than usual. I soon found that this was due to a fine white dust carried by the wind, the south east trade, over 150 miles from the eruption at Rabaul.

The heavier dust, ashes, pumice and rocks were falling on the area around Rabaul from a brand new volcano. this had arisen on the site of a low muddy island near the harbour entrance and called Vulcan Island by the Germans because of the hot springs there. Between this island and the shore was a sheltered little strait, and a local firm had built a shipway nearby to take ships up to 500 tons. One of these ships, S.S. Durour, was up on the slip for overhaul and, this being completed, the cr3ew were standing by to get her back into the water. The violent shakes were ringing the ship's bells continuously and had shakes all the props and ladders away from the ship's side. The crew could hardly be blamed for going over the side down ropes and they made their way up to the main road to head for Rabaul. They had just left the ship in time, for Vulcan Island gave a couple of convulsive heaves, then blew straight up into the sky like the cork from a bottle of champagne.

The local population of Rabaul still live under the constant threat of volcanic activity

The column of smoke, steam, hot ash and block mud went to a height of about six miles, like a more modern atomic explosion. Red-hot rocks, up to the size of motor cars and small cottages, fell at intervals out of the column. The Durour received many direct hits as well as being half buried in pumice. The new volcano built itself up to 600 feet in the first 24 hours, as well as joining Vulcan Island on to the mainland. The little strait is no more and the Durour is in the same spot to this day.

During the first terrible night the main road nearby was buried under 40 feet of pumice, so that the few European houses were completely covered and hundreds of natives were buried in their villages. Next morning did not dawn in the town of Rabaul, for the dense pall of ash kept the area in darkness and provided a ste4ady shower of pumice and stones.

The Government decided to evacuat4 the population in Nordup, the nearest part of the sea coast, three miles over the ridge to the east of the town. The great trek was under way all day, streams of choking people and crawling cars with headlights on making their way with visibility down to three feet. In the harbour the small ships had been washed ashore and back again by tidal waves. The only large ship in port, the American freighter Golden Bear, was caught with her holds open, receiving a few hundred tons of pumice into them instead of a cargo of copra.

She made her way out of the harbour, but was heavily bombarded by a jet of steam and pumice from Vulcan Island, which painted her Navy grey on the starboard side. By this time the Montoro was getting near the scene and we spent the morning preparing for the embarkation of evacuees. We turned out all the lifeboats and stripped them of all gear except the steering oar. Our two gangways were turned out, rope holders rigged over the side, and all the cargo nets we could muster to use as scrambling nets, as became common practice in amphibious landings of World War II.

As we approached Nordup the boats were lowered to the water, ready for rapid dropping with our surf boats and two launches. there is no charted anchorage at Nordup, so we lowered down the anchor on 35 fathoms of cable, which brought us up close to the beach. All of a sudden a loud explosion came from the direction of Vulcan, but much closer, and we saw a jet black mass arise from where Matupi volcano had been steaming away fitfully for years. Now it went into full reduction and greatly encouraged the mass exit from the town, firstly because it was much closer than Vulcan and, secondly, because its blast furnaces contained some sulphur to add to the discomforts of suffocation.

All our boats and launches were immediately manned and went to the rescue of the thousands who thronged the foreshore, the ash showers falling a few yards behind them. The evacuation was carried out with urgent efficiency. Most of the population were too overawed by the gigantic scale of the eruption, and by their relief as being still alive, to make any fuss or noise. There were several schooners near the shore loading u with the first arrivals, and the Golden Bear had taken off a few hundred whites before making out to sea. We need ten boats in all, towed two at a time by our launches, which were thus able to run continuously between ship and shore. Each boat filled up in the shallow water with over 100 persons each, while other pairs of boats emptied their loads up the ladders and nets into the ship. After six hours' continuous running there was nobody left ashore but a few police, both native and European, who remained to look after the deserted township.

The lifeboats, certified to carry 54 persons, were found to be loaded with 110 in most cases, a mixed bag of natives, Chinese and Europeans of all ages and conditions.

The ship's decks were packed with a crowd of about 6,000, including about 250 Europeans. Most of them had to bundle of clothes with them, and one old Chinaman carried a bucket of what appeared to be potatoes. It was very heavy, for the potatoes were only a veneer over a mass of silver coins.

After dusk, we hoisted all the boats and moved off to sea, stopping for the night off the harbour entrance where we were safely to windward of the two erupting volcanoes. Most of us stayed up to watch the satanic celebrations; the two volcanoes, on each side of the entrance, were throwing up a solid jet of red-hot dust and stones to a great height and the two columns appeared to meet somewhere over the town of Rabaul. The lightning was fantastic, some flashes bursting like bombs, others running horizontally, around the ascending columns, while forked lightning zig-zagged down to the surface of the sea.

I don't think anyone slept that night. The noise of eruption and thunder, and the thump of falling rocks was continuous, while our mass of human cargo had plenty to look at while they stood packed on all the decks. We had a member of native police to keep lanes of access clear to the bridge, but the passengers were no trouble at all. During the night the Government sent a signal to the Prime Minister at Canberra, and our local manager sent one to our Head Office in Sydney, with lists of urgently needed stores. I still treasure the original drafts of these messages among my souvenirs of the occasion. My own part in the evacuation had been running one of the launches. The other was run by the Chief Officer, while the Captain and the Third Mate got the people aboard and packed them on each deck.

The next morning dawned at last and we steamed in towards the coast of Kokopo, a small outpost of Rabaul, to which it had been connected by 20 miles of good coastal road. It was a Government post, and there was the depot of Burns Philp, but the largest establishment was the Catholic Mission of the Sacred Heart. This mission, under Bishop Vestera, a Dutchman, really performed a miracle that day. They took in the whole mass of evacuees and repeated the story of the little loaves and fishes. All the pregnant women were installed in the school, as many had started premature labour-pains. Camps were established in the neighbourhood for the thousands of natives until they settled down elsewhere.

It took five or six hours to ferry all our passengers ashore, after which we commenced to dig into our cargo, intended for other New guinea ports, to provide essential supplies for the camps. On deck we had some 20 head of cows for a projected dairy farm at Lae, all in calf, and they all commenced to produce still-born offspring, much to the dismay of the carpenter, who had charge of them.

People who had looked into Rabaul from distant vantage points reported that the harbour had filled in between the volcanoes, and if this were true the port of Rabaul had ceased to exist. On the second day at Kokopo we took a launch to survey the entrance of the harbour. The Captain, Chief Engineer and I took a sounding line to check the depths and a thermometer to test the water, setting out for the seven-mile run to see what we would find.

Rabaul has not a long history as a port, for in spit of its excellent harbour it did not become the capital of German New Guinea until 1913. It has a much longer history of volcanic activity, stretching back beyond human memory into the geological ages. According to the geologists who examined the area after the eruption, the harbour of Rabaul marks the site of an ardent volcano which stood about 10,000 feet high. At some unknown date the lava cooled off and plugged up the crater. Later eruptions broke out through the sides, forming a ring of smaller cones which still exist as a circle around the harbour. When these choked up in their turn the father of them all had to save up his frustrations until he had the energy for a mighty explosion; this completely demolished the main mountain, throwing blocks of old lava as big as houses up to 35 miles away, where they can still be seen. The bomb crater which was left was open to the sea, which rushed in to form the present harbour.

The earliest record of an eruption is in notes from Dampier, under the date 10 March 1699: "The next morning we saw a Burning Mountain in the country; it 3was high, round and peaked at top (as most volcanos are) and sent forth a great quantity of Smoak." The next visitor was Carteret in 1767, but there was apparently no eruption at that time. The earliest native story of an eruption was about the date 1840, while the next one, in 1878, was seen by a whit4 resident on a nearby island, so bringing the volcanic history of Rabaul into modern times.

The entrance of the harbour to a canyon 100 fathoms deep, so I was not surprised to find no bottom with the lead-line, as it was only 20 fathoms long. As we neared the two volcanoes the harbour looked all clear. This was really a mirage, a reflection of the sky due to heat. We soon saw a long line of sand barring our way, and as we got closer to it the mirage beyond shrank away. Then we saw that it was not sand but a bank of pumice, floating on the surface like pack ice. Some of it was under water, but about a foot of it was above the sea, the edge of the mass being kept compact by the fresh trade wind. Thinking that we could force the launch through it to the open water beyond, we steered into it at full speed. We didn't get far, for the engine ran hot, and would have seized up if we hadn't stopped.

At this moment I dipped the bucket over side to get a sample of water, but found that it collected no water at all, only dry pumice. The water-pump for cooling the engine had choked with pumice and had to be dismantled and cleared before we could get back into open water. From our vantage point between the two volcanoes we had a marvellous view of the eruptions. The noise of the explosion and of great rocks dropping down to earth was most impressive. The strangest thing we saw was a white mass coming over the edge of Vulcan's crater and tearing down the side in a parabolic curve like a Roman chariot in a cloud of dust. It met the sea in a cloud of hissing steam. Whether it was a sport of lave overflowing, or something else, I will never know, but there is still a deep groove down the mountainside today, with a small bay at the water's edge.

We were about to leave the harbour and its pumice when we spied a small schooner coming out from Rabaul. She seemed to be getting through the pumice well enough, not under sail but driven by a diesel motor. When she passed us we saw that she had a 44-gallon drum of water on deck which was being used to cool th3 engine. A hose led down to the water-pump of the motor, and the exhaust water was pouring back into the drum, where it may have cooled off slightly in the air. Aboard the vessel were two old characters of the town, who had been arrested for being found drunk in the club. They had broken into it and decided to spend their last few hours of membership sampling the stocks of grog before the town was buried like Pompeii. They may have finished up as two figures in a museum, immortalizing the New Guinea Club as members who had stood by the club to the last bottle, faithful even into death. Instead of achieving immortality they were charged with looting, as were many wandering natives who were after plunder from the deserted houses. The few police and Government officers who stayed on in the town were provided with meals at the Hotel Rabaul by Kathleen Bignell, the only woman left, who stayed right through the eruption and was later awarded the M.B.E.

Only two Europeans lost their lives, one being the wireless operator of the Golden Bear, and the other a local photographer who went off to climb Matupi to get a good picture of the new volcano across the bay. He must have just about reached Matu7pi when it blew up in his face, and he was never seen again.

Approximately 1,000,--- tons of ash fell on the town area from the two volcanoes, raising the level about four feet around all the houses. Only a few houses were damaged, but every tree in the district was leafless and battered by stones. The fine dust in the town was both unbelievable and unbearable for many months afterwards. After a couple of weeks the two craters calmed right down and the town was re-occupied again. During the eruption the roads were torn apart by cloudbursts and floods, as the drainage system had all been blocked. Huge drains had to be dug beside the roads to drain the town during the heavy rains and a lot of the loose pumice was washed down into the harbour, silting up some of the shallow areas. Most of the European women were sent to Australia to recover from shock and to wait for the town to be made livable again.

Finally, the townsfolk found one morning that the leafless frangipani trees had suddenly burst into flower, a joyful sign of life and former beauty returning to Rabaul. Every year since, with the exception of the years of the Japanese war, the New Guinea Club has celebrated the event by the Frangipani Ball held on the anniversary of the eruption, the 29th of May.

On our first visit to Rabaul after the eruption, we were able to enter the harbour and passed through a solid field of pumice. It really looked like dry land. There were pieces of dead trees lying on it, old cases and empty drum, like an abandoned army camp in the Sahara desert.

We stopped off the wharf, ran our lines ashore, and found that all the heaving in the world wouldn't get the ship right alongside. We did get to within 15 feet of the wharf, by just compressing the floating pumice into a denser mass between the ship and the wharf. During the cargo proceedings, the odd cases which fell out of the slings landed safely on the surface of the pumice, to be retrieved by natives walking safely on the dry surface as though there was no water underneath.

The scene at night by moonlight was like the Arabian Nights. The pumice around the ship was about five feet deep, and the harbour remained like this for about six months until the nor'west monsoon started to blow the surface out to the open sea. Some of it sank to the bottom of the harbour, making it a little shallower, but that was of no importance in this deep port.

Before the eruption, Rabaul was the healthiest place in New Guinea, the whole of Crater Peninsula being cleared of mosquitoes and, therefore, free of malaria and dengue fever. After the eruption every house and building formed a lake underneath when it rained, for the higher level of the ground left a hollow under each house. These lakes were ideal for breeding mosquitoes and so there is still a danger of malaria and dengue fever, as I have found in my own cost.

The Government decided to move the town, or at least the seat of Government, away from Rabaul. After about five years the administration had settled at Lae, but the town refused to move to a place like Lae, which hadn't any harbour at all.

The Japanese occupied Rabaul early in the war, used it as a naval base to hold as many as 100 ships at a time, but were also the cause of the town being bombed completely out of existence during the three years of allied retaliation. So the Government decided to re-create the town in a safer place while the chance remained and various sites were proposed and rejected in turn during the five years after the war. By this time the town at Rabaul had been rebuilt by private effort and it was too late.

To guard against future eruptions a volcanologist has been stationed in an observatory on the ridge overlooking the town. Here they can feel the best effects of the shakes and visit all the volcanoes and other hot spots daily to keep check of the blood-pressure and pulse of the whole emotional area. Public notices indicate the special escape routes out of the town to evacuation camps at Nordup and Nonga and most residents keep a small suitcases of necessities in case they have to leave home in a hurry. The odd chance that the next eruption may be worse does not worry the people of Rabaul. They are much too busy with commercial development and the more domestic problems of living in the tropics.

The Early Beginnings of Chinatown in PNG

2011-02-19T22:34:00.000-08:00

Article by “aCe” 12 February 2004.

The relationship between China and Papua New Guinea can be traced back in to the early conolnial days even before any bilateral trade agreements were signed between the heads of the two countries.
The relationship began informally perhaps in the early 1900’s at Matupit Island in East New Britain province which was then under German administration.
Here on a strip of land between Matupit village and the then Rabaul Yacht Club rose the first China Town in Rabaul, recalls long time Chinese businessman and naturilsed PNG Citizen Sir Ling James Seeto. Back then the name was not China Town but German Village because everyone who lived there worked for the Germans.
The Chinese were first recruited into the country by the Germans to do carpentry work, build bots, plumbing and other menial work. Sir Ling said at that time the Chinese were being recruited because they were the cheapest and reliable form of labour around. There was such a big influx of Chinese that everything was in disorder. In fact at that time, there were about four thousand Chinese Living in Rabaul recalls Sir Ling.
Mr. Lee Tam one of the Chinese recruits approached the German administration if he could set up a business at Malaguna and the land was granted to him.
Eventually other Chinese began to settle near him and also set up their businesses and in this way having all Chinese together in one location gave way to the concept of China Town.

A whole range of business activities sprouted from catering, kai bars and trade stores to other businesses.
Sir Ling who is one of the third generations in PNG was born in 1930 and grew up with the other children in China Town.
The frist China Town was a shanty town with the houses build out of corrugated iron, cardboard boxes and timbers.
Now having their new homes and business in the country, the Chinese became a part of PNG and were not exempted from experiencing invasions and the rule of colonial powers like the rest of the country.
The Chinese survived German administration before WWI and then Australian administration after WWI.
The when WWII came around the Chinese had to endure the Japanese who had invaded Rabaul and secured it as their strong hold. After WWII they once again came under the rule of the Australians.

Prior to WWI the Chinese worked for the Germans. The Germans did not interfered wit the Chinese and how they lived and set up their homes and businesses in China Town.
Then WWI came and Australia and Great Britain with their allies went to war against the Germans. The Germans were defeated and as part of the Versailles treaty, they had to hand over all their colonies.
Rabaul came under Australian administration and while the Chinese continued to live there, the Germans were now displaced.
The Australians saw how disorganized the place was (Chinatown) and approached MR. Lee or Atam as he was popularly called by the people, if they could give the place some sense of order.
In return they gave Atam a plantation in New Ireland called “Lakakot”.
The Australians then surveyed the area, subdivided it and gave out leases to the people who then built their houses and business in an orderly fashion.
The WWII struck. The Chinese people were left to face the Japanese soldiers. Meanwhile the Australians were getting on ships and leaving Rabaul.
The Japanese invaded Rabaul in 1943 and took the Chinese as Prisoners of War.
“For one week they retained us in their camp and later released us. They relocated us to Ratongor which is about seven km on the North Coast and here we built shanty towns and lived there for the duration of the war,” recalls Sir Ling.
The Japanese soldiers were friendly and invited the little children to their camps to watch movies, gave them drinks and treated them like their own children. “They were okay as long as we obeyed them and bowed down when they approached us” said Sir Ling.
After WWII and the Japanese defeated, the Australians resumed control over Rabaul. A second China Town arose. The Australian administration took over a plantation near Matupit. They graded the road and built huts. The Chinese resettled there and it became known as Matupit Farm.
The farm was subdivided in to a proper town in the 1950’s.
This is where the China town remained until the volcanic eruption in 1994 which wiped out the whole China Township of Rabaul. Sir Ling said they never realized that they were different until they returned to China. “In 1974 I returned to Hong Kong and found it really difficult to understand their Cantonese and likewise they did not understand my Cantonese. “So we became very different to our Chinese culture and the accent. For all our lives growing up in PNG meant that we were placed between the white man and the yellow man”. “We were different and after 100 years of living in PNG we don’t know much about our own culture and traditions”, said Sir Ling.
The Chinese like the Papua New Guineans were also segregated from the Australians and the British. They were not allowed to mix around with the white people or go to their ships and their schools.
Since they were not allowed to mix around with others, the Chinese courted and married those who lived in China Town. “So everyone was more of less related to each other,” Said Sir Ling.
The Chinese were also not allowed to go to Port Moresby and needed visas if they were to travel there.
In 1956 they were then allowed to move in Port Moresby. Sir Ling came to Port Moresby in 1965 and now owns renowned businesses such as Lings Freezer and Kwila Insurance Office.
The Chinese who grew up in China town became naturalized PNG Citizens,

100 years Young

2011-01-25T17:22:00.000-08:00

Rabaul officially marked its 100th birthday on the 18th September 2010.

A TRIP DOWN MEMORY LANE By Melanie Wynne

2010-02-14T20:16:00.000-08:00

A trip down memory lane by ex-Rabaul Resident, Melanie Wynne and her recounts of growing up in Rabaul. Its a beauty! Have a good weekend,
Susie - Rabaul Historical Society.

________________________________________
Hi there
Wow, it seems things have really changed in Rabaul.

I had always wanted to get back there, just for a trip down memory lane, though sometimes once one has burnt their bridges, it's not always a good idea to try and recross them!It's a real pity about the volcanic eruptions.

I thought I'd share some of my Rabaul experiences with you, in thanks for taking the time to email me back with some news! I was thinking I might write a book one day about life in Rabaul.

My Dad and I climbed all those volcanoes in Rabaul. Rabalanakia was always steaming and very sulphurous and you had to straddle the rim and get down with the aid of ropes. Mum must have been busy totting up the books at Chin H Min, playing squash or ordering the haus boi about as she can't have had any idea about the impending tropical danger.
We were down there one time and there was a giant guria. Dad was always saying 'Kids, watch your step - it's a bit crusty and warm underfoot just over there'. To think of the risks we took. At best, we were dressed in shorts, tee-shirts and Dunlop KT-26 running shoes. All the Hash House Harriers and Harrietts wore these. There was no such thing as Adidas and Nike.
Matupit was less dangerous - just a grass covered hill sort of small mountain, really. Reasonably boring so far as volcanoes go. Indeed, a bit of a wet weekend when compared to Rabalanakia.

Mother was an awesome peak. We climbed Mother one year with Hash House and all the camping supplies were taken up there by helicopter with my Mum who didn't want to walk up. About 100 people did the climb and we all stayed the night on the summit, with a big portable barbecue, eskys and wind breakers. I can't fully remember the point in us doing it. Suffice to say, it was a peak worth heading up for an evening get-together is probably how it went. Everything more or less revolved around beer and chilled german wine called Hermann Kendermanns Riesling from Andersons bottle shop, and eskys full of Mirinda and Coke for the kids. I guess as quick as one could drink it, it evaporated through the skin. I don't remember anyone having a beer gut.

My Dad and I also climbed South and North Daughter and Vulcan. Vulcan was nothing but peaceful, although it kind of sprouted up from sort of nowhere in 1937. Legend has it, a German vessel moored in the vicinity got taken in the eruption as Vulcan rose and bubbled up out of the sea, changing the surrounding land. This I admit does sound like the plot from a Hollywood show but it made our eyes bug out as kids. All the same, Vulcan was probably the most menacing of all as it had that classic conical shape - that reminded one that it was indeed a volcano.
We also climbed the Beehives - both edifices. I saw a recent picture and couldn't believe how much they had diminished in height. I would guess that the big beehive has probably lost around 5-7 meters of beach and rocks surrounding it.
We used to more the boat here for barbecues and swimming. One had to be careful of the spiny sea urchins lurking about. We once visited with a Japanese WW2 veteran, and he speared one and cooked it on the barbecue for us. We couldn't believe our eyes! Something they did in the Land of the Rising Sun, not on the sun-kissed shores of East New Britain...
There were also exposed rocks between both beehives, which are no longer in existence. A century ago or more, around 200 villagers lived on the beehives. Hard to imagine, now.

Talking of the war - WW2, my Dad and I would frequently go tunnelling (another risky pastime). This would entail driving out to places like Tunnel Hill (where the Japanese Kempeitai (or Secret Police - until 1945) had numerous jungle jail cells. Still there, after all these years were wrought iron cages and obscured tunnels, unless someone has since dragged them out of the jungle. They were located in a forest of cocoa trees. We'd arm ourselves with Aerogard, bush knives, big dive torches and shovels and go in search of sometimes partly collapsed tunnels. Some were extremely elaborate. We found military stores full of naval hat bands, belt buckles detailing the Imperial chrysanthemum, ammunition, dispensary supplies, headgear, currency and more. Sometimes, the tunnels would be strewn with nesting bats hanging from the ceilings that would suddenly take flight in reaction to our powerful torch strobes.
They'd fly up our tee-shirts scratching and squealing. I'd be scratching and squealing, too. So would my Dad when I wasn't looking. Then, there were the bush pigs that would enter, carrying on walking and them lodge themselves inadvertently in a narrow tunnel. Whilst pigs are very intelligent, they didn't have the sense to back out. We'd subsequently end up having to do a giant leap over a treacle mass and bones to clear ground. Invariably, the Japanese built their tunnels in Rabaul in elevated valleys. As we left one, we'd swing from the canopies across the other side to the next valley ridge. Sometimes, the canopy 'rope' (just a piece of vegetation) would snap taking us with it hurtling to the jungle floor 20 feet below. The landing always seemed to be soft, though, as Dad and I never broke any bones!

I used to go out on the Rabaul Volcanologist Observatory boat each Friday with my friend Laetitia and her father - French volcanologist - Patrice de Saint Ours to the Matupit area. Here, there were already hot springs near Matupit village. We'd pull up in the boat, and he'd hop out at the shore and measure the beach. At 14, we couldn't see the point in this highly repetitive task of using tape measure and other paraphenalia on not one of Rabaul's best beaches. He'd measure the beach and how far it had receded and them we'd travel back to Rabaul, invariably sunburnt to pieces. We were more into the boat driver maxing the motor to overkill.

There was a lot on this side of town near the airport including Malay Town, the Ambonese Club and Changs - a legendary Chinese restaurant owned/operated by a patrician Chinese gent who had a penchant for playing 50s and 60s standards on his museum-piece record player. The spring rolls were the best. My sister and I started out on hard fried eggs and chips and progressed as our tastebuds became more sophisticated to anything beef with fried rice. Then, we'd rush out the front to barter for carved wooden dolphins, marlin and garish highland-style masks and exotic shells that we could never seem to find ourselves on the beaches. The shells the traders sold always seemed shinier - even the leopard-spotted cowrie shells.

Rabaul Golf Club had an awesome fairway which we used to roly poly downwards if we got sick of caddying for our fathers. They'd end up paying little local lads to do the job as they didn't shirk the responsibility of the job!
We'd have drinks at the clubhouse, and also use the facilities of the Rabaul Squash club which was just a stones throw from the Golf Club, and where my Mum played as an A-grader in tournaments.

Actually, the airport was what was known as the 5km run from Rabaul Swimming Pool'. We'd do this run every year with the Hash House Harriers and Hash House Harrietts. It was my mum and her friend - Liz Casey (wife of Rabaul Police Commissioner - Pat Casey) who started Hash House Harrietts for the women as they were sick of the men having a run and booze blow-out every Monday. The women started Hash House Harrietts and a run through the woop-woop was followed every Wednesday by wine and more wine. I was only a kid, so I made do with Fanta.

We'd also join forces with a community at Warangoi River who had arrived from Norway and were contracted to complete the vast hydro-electricity scheme and do Hash House runs out there. Also, we'd do 10 km runs that always seemed to conclude at the Ralum Club at Kokopo. I never really liked Kokopo as the beaches weren't up to much. Swimming down near the Ralum Club was a little rough and unprotected, and nearby Takubar was all sandby bottomed and devoid of any coral life. My Dad speared a stone fish with his diver knife there, once. It was a stupid thing to do, really, as it gave my Mum more ammunition to put the breaks on going anywhere but Pila Pila, Nonga Beach, Tovarua and Duke of Yorks - or Rabaul Pool. Dad loved Sub Base, but Mum and us two kids didn't really like it. It was the stone shelf almost devoid any any real coral life that gave way to that blue abyss that we found scary. Dad and his dive mates loved it of course. We were there one afternoon and my sister and I were wallowing about in a rockpool. Then, just to add to the excitement of Sub Base a seas snake can flying out of some rocks and zoomed across both of our thighs into another pool and out to sea. My sister Rachael and I just about emptied the seawater in the rockpool getting out and zooming over to our Mum to tell her what had happened.

I can hardly imagine Rabaul Pool being full of ash. It was the prettiest swim club ever. My sister and I used to swim, swim, swim here and were members of the Rabaul Amateur Swim Club. Our coach was a lady called Jan Hui - who had two kids called Natasha and Jon. She and her husband owned a trade store just up from Chin Hoi Min, where my Mum worked. We had countless barbies on the extensive grounds, and I remember having a big 14th birthday party at the club. The Royal Australian Navy arrived in town one weekend, and joined the Hash House Harriers for the biggest run and barbecue Rabaul had ever seen. I reckon the pool had close to 500 people in it at one point.

We never liked swimming at the Travelodge, as we always had to buy a coke to get permission to swim, and thought that was a rip-off. Plus their chef always seemed to put muscats (sort of a giant sultana) in all the smorgasbord salads, and if anything was a deep-fried ball one had to be careful that it wasn't a lambs brain. There had been a run on these across town after one particular shipment. However, the Travelodge didn't tune in to the fact that folk preferred spring rolls and sandwiches as finger food and kept serving up these deep-fried balls.

The other place to eat at apart from the New Guinea Club (Is the New Guinea Club a wreck and a shadow of its heady times, when the teak floors were mirror finished, and the billiards hall impeccable, or is it well-kept still? I remember Eddie Charlton, a famous Australian snooker player visiting and playing in the New Guinea Club billiards hall).- was Cafe de Paris on Mango Avenue. It sat in a stretch of shops about midway along and was run by two very camped up chaps called Alan and Ron. Ron always used to blush when he enquired as to whether we enjoyed our meals. Even then, with his pink polo shirts and manbag, we knew he and Alan were different from most of the other men in Rabaul. As it transpired, looking back, the Kaivuna Hotel was a real hangout for gay men. Sort of like the Village People at the Haus Wind bar of the Kaivuna. It was the 1980s after all.
We used to have Chinese yum cha at the very nice Chinese restaurant at the Hamamas Hotel (now the RABAUL HOTEL)at the top of Mango Avenue, and, cocktails at Kulau Lodge when Peter Legget ran the place and held a disco every Friday night.
Plus, there were numerous takeouts, including a place on the corner of Wisdom Street and Malaguna Road - which we called Greasy Greeks as it was run by a Greek chap. However, although he ran it like a typical Aussie takeout, he'd cheat with the potatoes and load his potato fry up with a mix of 'proper' potato and sweet potato. Kau kau as we called it, was sort of the same color as 'proper' potato but we'd always up up with a greater proportion of kau kau, which we hated. How little did we know that kau kau - especially chipped and fried would go on to become a gourmet food. I still can't bear the stuff stoday.

Greasy Greeks was just over the road from Andersons. If you needed your head checked, you shopped at Burns Philp or Steamships -where everything always seemed to be stale, though they did have a few surprises. You could get sausage rolls in a tin from England at Burns Philp and Steamships had a great easter egg haul one year, plus they sold Golden Gaytime iceblocks at the snack counter. If you wanted Ski yogurt, proper cheddar and Tanubada milk (all frozen), top beef steaks, Big country hamburgers, all the Aussie lollies and wanted to pick up the latest VHS titles - you shopped at Andersons. Plus it was air-conditioned.

The best trick, though, was to study the shipping charts for arrivals. We got very pally with folk aboard the regularly arriving Bankline merchant ships, that would call into Rabaul around every 2 months or so. The Greenbank, Ivybank, Clydebank etc would pull in with their stores full, which would then be disgorged at the big wharf and clear Customs bonding for distribution. We'd park the car at the wharf, hope aboard, greet long-lost friends and leave with a haul of proper potatoes by the sackload, fresh cheddar cheese, white sugar, chocolate without the white tint from the sun melting it and slabs of beer. To roll up at a party with a slab of McEwans lager instead of San Mig (never SP) granted many friends.

It's a real pity to hear about the demise of Rabaul. I would still love to visit again one day. Places like Vunapope, Nonga, Pila Pila, Keravat and of course Kokopo would still be probably similar.

Rabaul really was a blessed place to live. My only fear when living there was dying and being buried at the cemetery in the far corner at the top of Mango Avenue east, east of the market. It was a lonely place, and some expat kids had been lain to rest there. I thought if I died, no-one would visit me after my family had left Rabaul!

I can hardly grasp that there are only 5 expatriate ladies (at this point in time) left in Rabaul town. From a population of what must have been mroe than 2000 expats from all over the world to this seems unbelievable. It must get lonely at times. During my time, there were expats of all ages, including people who had been there since the war. My Dad worked with a teacher called Georgie Nuttall at Maltech (Malaguna Technical College) who'd been there I believe since just after the war.
My parents had friends from all over the place - Australians, Kiwis (always good value if there are no Aussies available..), Brits, Irish, Indians, Americans, Canadians, Norwegians, French and South Africans. People were a range of ages, as well. Looking back, some folk were probably younger than I am now - 39.
At that age I was - everyone seemed old.

Is there much life in Kokopo? I never really warmed to Kokopo. It was sort of too countrified for me. I felt I was leaving a 'metropolis' when we sped out of Rabaul past the delicious smelling CPL factory which smelled of coconut macaroons. I could hardly wait to get back, especially if we went somewhere like the Warangoi to see the Norwegians working on the Downer Kier Hydro-Electricity project or worse still - out to Keravat. I really thought Keravat was boring, but we'd go there from time to time as my parents had friends out there who were Canadian volunteer teachers. I also felt really sorry for them, as they ate stuff like tinned mackerel in tomato sauce (which we sometimes fed to our dog as it was cheaper tha PAL dog food - go figure - and being fish was good for his coat ) and so Mum and Dad and friends of ours would arrive and sort out a proper barbecue and nice food from Andersons!

I guess the best part about Kokopo was the Ralum Club and Queen Emma's steps. I used to sit on those steps and daydream about what it must have been like to be married to Paul Kolbe and sashay about in that great villa with that awesome view of the ocean. In fairness, it was a little hard to envisage, as to be truthful there were only a bunch of stone steps left. Still, it ws a lovely part of PNG. I guess we were blessed to have won out with Rabaul. I remember arriving in 1978 at Port Moresby Airport with my family and we laughed as we got off the big Boeing 707, to stay a night at the horible Gateway Hotel. We pointed at the funny Fokker aircrafts with their propellers and laughed derisively. From there, things went temporarily pear-shaped. We saw people chewing their tongues, bleeding profusely and spitting trajectiles of red onto the sidewalks - and in fact anywhere. Mum needed a stiff shot of the duty free Dimple whiskey they had purchased in Duty Free. Then, the next day, we walked back out onto the tarmac to our airplane, which just happened to be one of those prop jobs. Then, we took off. We were only flying at around 10,000 feet so we had a birds eye view of everything - all the coastline, atolls and islands dotted about. Flying with a full and training pilot we kep a holding pattern over this horseshoe shaped place with loads of conical hills. We asked if we were there yet (as kids do) since it had been close to 3 hours since we'd left Jacksons POM, and I'll never forget what my Mum said. She said 'No, kids, it's just a stopover. We're not in 'Rabawl' yet'. Then we landed, and just as they taxied the captain came over the intercom and announced 'Hello ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Rabaul'. My Mum nearly keeled over and that would have been hard since she was still tucked into her seat. We'd signed up for 3 years in this place and it wasn't a stopover.
And, do you know what?
It ended up being the best several years ever.

God bless Rabaul, the Tolais, the bung, the wonderful beaches, the Beehives, the duk duks, the puk puks, SP and San Mig, the fallen at Bita Paka, the New Guinea Club, Pila Pila, Tunnel Hill and everything in between and may Mother volcano see to it that her offspring grow tired of their rumbling and drift back into a slumber for at least another millennia.

Kind regards

Melanie J WYNNE
(Former Rabaul resident)

GILMORE / PUT PUT PLANTATION REUNION 2010

2010-01-14T20:46:00.000-08:00

Hello, I got your email address from the Rabaul Historical Society Site and read with interest the stories. I was especially interested in the Speldewinde's visit to Rbaul after 34 years and wonder if you might be interested in hearing my story?
It is quite a story and I hope that you find the time to read it?
My name is Alison and the family name is Gilmore. Grandparents - Flo and Jack Gilmore, sons John and Graham and daughter Peggy. (All now deceased)
Put Put Plantation was originally the home of the Gilmores.
My husband David is the grandson of Flo and Jack and son of Peggy. He was born in Namanula Hospital in 1948 and has not returned since leaving Rabaul as a very small child.
However I returned in 1981 and stayed with old family friends Joyce and Dick Gault. Dick was a timber merchant in Rabaul and Joyce ran a small tour company called Kundu Tours in the '80's.
I am told she has sadly since past away. (They owned and lived on the neighboring plantation called Waranvula on the Warangoi River up until the plantation house burnt down and they moved to town.)
With the help of the Henderson family (I think he was the Mobil Man?) and Father Tim (the catholic priest at the time) and the Gault's daughter Rosalyn, I was able to get to Put Put Plantation for a day. We were met on the other side of the suspension bridge by Bob Roberts he worked for BP's who were logging Put Put at the time?
We spent the day at Put Put and it was a remarkable few hours of happiness and sadness combined. I took many photographs for the family and on the return trip, by a remarkable chance, met a man at the suspension bridge whose name was "Teapot" and he knew immediately that I must be a Gilmore. It turned out that he used to work for the Gilmore family and we followed him in his ute from the Warangoi to find our mother (Peggy's) childhood best friend Mini Mata who was amazingly still alive in a village not far from the river. It was an emotional reunion and a journey of great sentiment and many tears indeed. Sadly I had my camera stolen in Rabaul before I got the chance to develop any of the precious pictures, and it is now only a story and a wonderful old memory.
In May this year David and I are hoping to retrace those steps back to Put Put if it is at all possible? There is such a lot of family history and memories there and no doubt, it will be the last chance we have to see it in our lifetime and we would love to take photos for our grandchildren, but as we no longer have any living contacts or friends in Rabaul or Kokopo (that I know of - especially after the eruption)and with the awareness that things and people have changed drastically over the past 30 years I set about the task of finding anyone around the area with a current email address who might be willing to help me find a contact person who may grant or deny us permission to revisit the old plantation.
You can imagine how excited and grateful we were on reading the message. Tom is a gem for helping me and I cannot wait to meet and thank him personally.

We had heard somewhere on a grapevine that the plantation had been sold and was being split up for it's various natural resources, so we naturally imagined that we may have trouble getting access to the plantation now?

I found an old copy of a 1999/2000 Rabaul UBD and with the greatest of hope sent an email to a man called Tom Bullen at Kokopo. I told him this story and from the goodness of his heart he replied with a contact to a man called David Lidgett who works for Warner Shand Lawyers in Rabaul and told me that he was in contact with the Catholic Mission which still own Put Put. There was no email address for him, so I googled the firm and found a contact in POM who emailed me back with the short and wonderful message that follows-

If you advise us of your bookings we can get the Catholic Mission to organize your visit to Put Put etc.

Regards

M N Wilson

CC D Lidget

You can imagine how excited we were to read the message and so grateful to Tom for helping us get to that point. I cannot wait to meet him and thank him personally.
I have been googling madly tryng to find any contacts in Rabaul and was advised by Tom of a man named Geoffrey Stephenson who has a Customs office in Rabaul whom he said would be a good contact. He is only contactable by phone and it would take ages to tell the story and a fortune in phone bills so I am hoping that you may know of him and maybe even pass this story onto him for me?
I have yet another favor to ask as a complete stranger and only because I am a member of our local Historical Society and because I looked with interest at your story about the Speldewinde's
that I feel comfortable in asking for your help.
If the Catholic Mission are happy to take us to Put Put, we would like to stay as close as possible to the plantation. I don't know if we need a car, and all I do know is that for the 2-3 days that we are in Rabaul and surrounds, that we wish to do nothing but take photos, and share stories and record the stories of people who know and have known about Put Put and the Gilmores or any or all of the years in between.
This trip is for our grandchildren and no doubt it is our last chance to stand amongst the family history. This trip is ALL about Put Put.
Ideally we would love to know if it is possible for us to stay a night at Put Put? We would be happy to pay and need nothing but a mozzie net and a soft floor, if that is all it takes to spend as much time as possible for the last time on the beloved plantation.
From memory it was miles from anywhere with a footbridge crossing over the Warangoi River to the plantation side and then a long drive from there to the harbour and the plantation houses. I don't know if anyone lives there any more, or even if there are any buildings left or anywhere we could stay?
Maybe the Catholic Mission can answer this question, but I don't know where or who to contact? Can you help or can you find out for me, it would be a dream come true to be at Put Put for more than a couple of hours. Phone calls are SO expensive from here to PNG and I cannot find too many current email addresses in Rabaul.
Please help!

I look forward to your reply and apologise for such a long and involved story .
Yours very sincerely
Alison Raynor
and Dave McEvoy

IT'S OUR HOME & THE ONLY ONE WE'VE GOT!

2008-08-20T04:52:00.000-07:00

DUST OVER RABAUL, August 2008. Rabaul Town (us) immediately under the dust cloud!This mid-year season, Rabaul Town, has experienced the WORST ash fallout from Mt. Tavuruvr Volcano (Matupit) in my personal opinion/experience. The eruption of 1994, was of course, DISASTROUS, and I don't wish to downplay this fact, but this year 2008, Tavurvur appears to have produced the largest and most consistent amount of ash (sand really) since then.

We are under seige and overwhelmed.

At the Rabaul Hotel, we have valued staff on the roofs, in the garden & its surrounds, every day, with shovels and wheel barrows digging out the ash that has accumulated over night.

It is a horrible and tedious job, but it has to be done or the roofs will collapse.

Rabaul Town is not so pretty these days. Unfortunately, not like its halcyon days when it was described as the "Peal of the Pacific"! It is more like the "Sand Dune of the Pacific"!

To add insult to injury, we have had shabby and sensational reporting by the local Newspaper, who reported on at least three occasions, that the ash was life threatening!

This led to mass hysteria and panic by the workers of Rabaul and the closure of some much needed utilities like the Hospital, the Technical School and the Bank, which declared it would only open 'till 1.p.m. daily. The Power company also would not attend to R & M until "conditions improved"!

There was even a threat by the authorities to 'close the town' and declare a STATE OF EMERGENCY. The last time the Army was called in to facilitate a SOE, they arrived with backpacks and departed with approx. 5 containers load of looted goods!

We as business operators could not allow this. If we were to close down, it would be the nail in the coffin and more importantly, how would the surrounding areas get their goods to the people? We are still the third largest Port in PNG, importing and exporting and the feeding straw to Kokopo Town and indeed, the whole Islands Region.

The East New Britain Chamber of Commerce, presided over by my Husband Bruce Alexander, led the charge. The Newspaper in question would have to produce the so called document that proved the ash was poisonous, IMMEDIATELY!

It took a week of sharp dialogue, but in the end they could not produce the report and during the weekend and then on Monday, we received three articles stating the ash was NOT HARMFUL !

The Newspaper even attempted to produced good will and positive thought to the people of Rabaul.

During this very testing time, an Executive Member of the Chamber and fellow Rabaul Town resident & businessman, Mr Nic Lyons (Rabaul Metal Industry) wrote a letter to the same Newspaper explaining his position, which became OUR POSITION and it's BRILLIANT.

What can I say? It brings a tear to my eye and is exactly HOW IT IS and HOW I FEEL.

I also believe it was the 'icing on the cake', especially since the articles were exposed as false and misleading.

I feel it only appropriate that the rest of the world read it.

Here it is............

Whilst those of us who have chosen to live and work in Rabaul do understand that events involving our volcano have a certain level of newsworthiness, many of us also feel that there is an untoward element of almost salacious pleasure being taken in our discomfort by those who write, edit & publish stories about our situation.

The business community of Rabaul feels that they are being particularly poorly treated by an estate that should be their ally (given where advertising revenue comes from).

Does the press not understand that the business community in Rabaul pay taxes like everyone else and yet, as soon as there is any increase in the level of dust at Rabaul, those in charge of the services (which we have already paid for) withdraw them from us? There are no concessions, rebates, double deductions, subsidies or anything else available to Rabaul based businesses, despite the difficult physical and economic conditions we operate under.

Neither is our plight ever reported on, except in articles that have an underlying implication that we shouldn't be here at all.

It should also be appreciated that many of us have nowhere else to go.

The authorities have made no offers of alternative locations for us. There have been no alternative port sites identified. There have been no offers of compulsory purchase of our properties or our businesses. States of emergency and natural disasters may be declared but none of that money filters down to those of us on the receiving end of Tavurvur's output to help us clean up or mitigate the effects of the corrosive ash.

So we just battle on, with relatively little complaint, dealing every day with levels of service that would make weaker people give up hope. The power providers, water supply, hospitals, schools, banks, all provide us with mediocre services at best and then they just give up as soon as the slenderest justification for a few days off comes their way in the form of a dust cloud.

Civic services here are so poorly organised and under-funded that businesses have no site available to dump the tonnes and tonnes of ash that we dig off our premises every day. The composition of the Town Council is such that the Chamber of Commerce has no representative on the council. The roads are falling apart, there are no street lights, the storm drains and sit traps are choked with ash and mud, the list goes on and on. But we pay our state lease rentals on our properties, we pay land tax to the provincial authorities, we pay GST, we pay Income tax, we pay Company tax, we buy business licences, we pay corporate LLG tax, we pay garbage fees. The list goes on and on. We pay and we pay and we pay. But services are not provided, no alternative is offered and our situation is un-reported..

The article your paper saw fit to publish at the beginning of this week and again as the front page leader today "Unhealthy Rabaul" will almost certainly provide the spur for further withdrawal or downgrading of services. It may even provoke a knee jerk somewhere in Waigani that leads to an attempt to close the town or declare an emergency. You no doubt feel that its wording and content were justified and, indeed, it may have been. But it is regrettable (and inexplicable) that the source documentation for your story could not be made available to stakeholders so that we could assess for ourselves the precise nature of the risk and danger that we have lived under for the last decade and more.

It is also to be regretted that in your Rabaul coverage of the last 15 years has your newspaper ever chosen to speculate on what will become of the many thousands of people who live in this Watom/Kombiu/Balanataman area of the Gazelle once the businesses that have been the sole source of their livelihoods have been driven into closure by those who govern or by those responsible for providing them with power, water, banking, telephone, civic services and daily news.

And when those businesses are finally forced to the wall, the nation as a whole will be the poorer because the Rabaul people of all races are one of the most closely bonded, public spirited, peaceful, compassionate and properly multicultural communities in Papua New Guinea. The nation's press should be champions of our struggle to survive and not the carpenter's mate holding the next nail to be hammered into our coffins.

Just because it is dusty doesn't mean we're dirty and just because some of the town is destroyed doesn't mean nobody lives here.

We're tired of reporters that drive in to our town, take a picture of the dust and drive off again.

Rabaul isn't Movie World and its not Toy Town but its definitely not Jurassic Park.

Its our home, and the only one we've got.

Regards

Nicholas Lyons
Executive Member
East New Britain Chamber of Commerce & Industry

Speldewinde's Visit After 34 Years

2008-08-05T21:03:00.000-07:00

I have the honour of hosting Wilhelm & Gaye Speldewinde from Canberra, who are visiting Rabaul after a 34 year absence. Gaye taught at Rabaul Primary School from 1973 - 1974 and Wilhelm was a kiap. Here are photos of Gaye and her Grade 3 Class, of which I was a member, but apparently on leave at the time.

Can you identify any of these children?

The other photo shows the Staff of the School at the time. Of those I can recall are Stu Woodger (Principal), Wendy Simpson (nee Stevens), Di O'Donnell, Mr. Godsall.... and our memory stops there. Can you identify any others?

Email me at: rabaulhotel@global.net.pg

Rabaul Historical Society Celebrates ERROL FLYNN'S BIRTHDAY !

2008-07-25T19:09:00.000-07:00

The 20th June was our Favourite Swash Buckling, Womansing, Drug Popping, Big Screen Hero and Ex-Rabaul Resident's Birthday !

HAPPY BIRTHDAY hunky ERROL FLYNN.

INJECT VODKA INTO AN ORANGE TO CELEBRATE!!

The 20th June was our Favourite Swash Buckling, Womansing, Drug Popping, Big Screen Hero and Ex-Rabaul Resident's Birthday !

The 18-year-old Errol Flynn – with an already shady background - arrived in New Guinea in October 1927 to make his fortune on the newly discovered goldfields at Edie Creek.

From his arrival he tried unsuccessfully to bluff himself into money as a cadet patrol officer, gold prospector, slave recruiter, dynamiter of fish, trapper of birds, manager of coconut and tobacco plantations, air cargo clerk, copra trader, charter boat captain, pearl diver and diamond smuggler. He was also a prolific writer and contributed regularly to Australian newspapers and magazines with absorbing tales about the untamed jungles of New Guinea.

Flynn soon discovered that the Australian government had a severe shortage of patrol officers, and he hoped to bluff his way through in Rabaul, but this colonial career was short-lived when his background was discovered.

He moved restlessly from one job to another, acquiring many different skills but no great competence. Hoping to get rich fast, he lived by his wits and ran up many debts.

In Rabaul, although considered a likeable and capable young man, his reputation for roguery quickly spread and he ceased to be with the Administration.

His best memory of Rabaul was of “a wonderful saloon” where you encountered “everything the world could yield up – miners, recruiters, con men, thieves, beachcombers, prospectors – cubicles both downstairs and upstairs, several phonographs playing, cards…”

Long after Flynn had left he was remembered around Rabaul, mostly for the unpaid bills he left behind. Even after he became famous as a film star, he never paid any of those bills.

If people wrote asking him to pay, he would send them autographed photographs of him, saying these were worth much more than what he owed them.

The story is told of the famous occasion when a film of Flynn’s was showing in Rabaul, and at the end of the credits, a dentist to whom Flynn owned a large account jumped up and shouted: “And teeth by Eric Wein.”

Flynn has been called many names: adventurer, thief, lover, liar, murderer, and Hollywood legend. He probably didn’t do much good while he was here, but nevertheless, he placed PNG on the world map as a place where a young man can find himself.

Errol Flynn, the likeable rogue :

Famous Quotes:
"I like my whisky OLD and my women YOUNG"

"The public has always expected me to be a playboy and a decent chap never lets his public down"

"Women won't let me stay single and I won't let myself stay married"

2008-07-20T19:30:00.000-07:00

RABAUL - VOLCANO TOWN !

This is a daylight view of picturesque Simpson Harbour, Rabaul, with Tavurvur Volcano smoking in the background, taken from the Rabaul Volcano Observatory, 2008.

This photo was taken from the same spot at the Rabaul Volcano Observatory during the evening hours, with Tavurvur Volcano erupting in April 2008

2008-07-17T00:19:00.000-07:00

'WINGS OF CANVAS'
OR
EARLY FLIGHTS IN PAPUA NEW GUINEA.
1917 and 1920
By Steve Saunders of the Rabaul Historical Society

According to Sinclair's 'Wings of Gold' (1978) the start of aviation in PNG was in 1922. Although he does mention that two aircraft, a BE2a land plane and a Maurice Farman floatplane (or ~28% of Australia's airforce!) were shipped to PNG aboard HMAS Una in Nov. 1914 to aid in the second phase of the take over of German New Guinea. The capitulation occurred rapidly however, and the planes were not unpacked. The date of 1922 relates to civil aviation, but if we explore the military side of things a little more, the fleeting shadows of some almost forgotten wings appear over the Solomon Sea up to half a decade earlier.

In 1914 the success of the Australian Naval and Military Expeditionary Force in taking Rabaul and other German Possessions in the SW Pacific, and Japan's blockade of the German Tsingtao Naval base in China, denied the German East Asiatic Squadron its bases, coaling stations and communications in the Western Pacific. Admiral Von Spee withdrew intending to operate from friendly, or at least neutral ports around South America. But whilst looking to steal British coal from Stanley in the Falkland Islands, the squadron was meet and destroyed by a powerful Royal Navy (RN) squadron sent for that purpose. Exactly one-month earlier, to the day, Germany's first successful south-sea's raider the Emden had been hunted-down and forced to beach on the Cocos Islands during the Royal Australian Navy's (RAN) first serious sea engagement.

As such Australia was apparently left with no immediate maritime threat and the bulk of her small Navy set sail for imperial duties in the waters around Europe, the Middle East and in the Indian Ocean.

A sea-borne threat, however, was not too long in returning. Imperial Germany was not going to completely forget her former colonial areas or leave the upstart Australians in peace. The German raiders SMS Wolf and Seeadler arrived on the scene in mid 1917. Of special interest is the fact that the Wolf carried a seaplane, a Friedrichshafen FF33E, nicknamed Wölfchen or 'The Young Wolf' (n.b. not 'wolf cub'), on what was to become a 100,000 km and 15 month long piratical odyssey.

The black painted German raider SMS Wolf, parts of her hull are false and would drop to reveal six 15 cm guns, four 50 cm torpedo tubes and numerous smaller weapons. Her most useful weapon however, the Wölfchen can be seen aft of the main superstructure. This aircraft was launched several times in early Aug. 1917 in the Solomon Sea between Bougainville and New Britain. (Wikipedia)

On the 6th Aug. 1917 the Wolf captured the Burns-Philip steamer Matunga en-route from Sydney (via Brisbane) when only a few hours steaming time from Rabaul. The capture almost did not happen; the Wölfchen came close to being destroyed on the 12th July during a landing accident. A damaged float strut broke, the propeller sliced into a float and the engine and fuselage were submerged. Ingenuity and intense labours had her rebuilt and flying by the 27th July. The very next day the Wolf intercepted a radio message from the Matunga saying that she was carrying 500 tons of navy coal for the captured SMS Komet, now renamed HMAS Una, and was due to reach Rabaul on the 7th Aug. So the Germans steamed north-westward from their position west of the Solomon Islands and were soon lurking at an appropriate spot south of Saint George's Channel. At intervals over the next few days the recently rebuilt seaplane was sent aloft searching for their quarry and soon after 7:45 p.m. on Sunday 5th Aug. the pilot and navigator, Oberflugmeister Paul Fabeck and Vizeflugmeister Mathaus Stein, sighted the Matunga. The unmarked seaplane returned to the Wolf was winched on board and through the night they shadowed their unsuspecting prey. The plane was re-launched at 07:00 am on the 6th and now flying a German Imperial Navy battle flag from a wing strut soon made their nationality and intent known to the Matunga. According to F. G. Trayes (1919) the little Wölfchen on her own forced the Rabaul bound ship to heave to, probably by the Navigator displaying their carbonit bombs. The Wolf caught up lowered her launch and the Matunga was boarded. This was to the particular dismay of 16 members of the Rabaul military garrison including a colonel, a major and three captains who where returning from leave, and later to Rabaul's towns-folk, as the Matunga was carrying an entire months supply of alcohol!

The Wölfchen or 'The Young Wolf', aboard the German raider SMS Wolf. This was probably the first aircraft to fly in Papua New Guinea airspace, when it forced the SS Matunga to stop only a few hours from Rabaul, early August 1917. To keep their nationality and military intent secret from observers the Wölfche was unmarked. The above markings were added on the Wolf's return to Germany for propaganda purposes. (Wikipedia)

The Wolf escorting the Matunga with a prize crew on board then passed north of Buka and sailed north-westward up the east coast of New Ireland before turning west around New Hanover. They passed close to Manus heading for Waigeo Island (the large island floating above the beak of West Papua's Bird's head). Here the Matunga was finally looted of all useful cargo, including two or three horses which were later eaten and a bonus 1,000 tons of coal intended for the administration's steamers, (this had not been mentioned in the intercepted radio message); she was then sunk. During this voyage around the periphery of the New Guinea Islands, it is probable that the Wölfchen would have been aloft often to warn the Wolf of the approach of Australian or Japanese warships (allies in the 1914-18 war) or of potential prey.

So almost certainly the first few flights in the airspace of Papua New Guinea were made by a German Friedrichshafen seaplane called the Wölfchen beginning a couple of days before 5th Aug. 1917, although it is unlikely it ever touched or even passed over land.

Out of the six German seaplane manufacturers Friedrichshafen's were the most numerous type, making up 36% of the Imperial Navy's Seeflugzege fleet (for some reason Albatros has become synonymous with WWI German seaplanes, but they only supplied 7%). Friedrichshafen's were known for their reliability, ease of flying, ruggedness and stability when on the water. They were ordered in large numbers for use as Germany's eyes over the North Sea, a place where most other seaplanes tended to founder. The company was part financed by Graf Ferdinand von Zeppelin, and his support included the use of a huge airship hanger at Friedrichshafen, on the shores of Lake Constance for final assembly of the aircraft.

On its return to Germany the Wölfchen became a national hero. The little worn-out seaplane was used extensively for propaganda photos and consigned to a museum, the High Command even commissioned a copy to undertake morale lifting public appearances.

And what of those Rabaul residents, military men and crew who had been anticipating their imminent arrival at the sleepy backwater of Rabaul? With eventually over four hundred captives from other vessels, most of the military men and the crew spent seven months on board the Wolf and were then interned in Germany until the war ended. The women, children and civilian males of non-military age and a couple of army medical officers where transferred to Wolf's prize ship the Igotz Mendi. These people to avoid the British blockade of Germany had travelled into the Arctic Circle north of Iceland, still wearing the clothes they were captured in. They finally escaped when the ship ran aground on 24th Feb. 1918 only 100 m off the Danish coast at the very gates of a wintry, war ravaged and starving Germany. (When travelling to Rabaul, a night offloaded by Air Niugini doesn't seem so bad after all!)

And that other raider the Seeadler? Having rounded Cape Horn and knowing copra was used for making munitions she was heading toward the main production centres to try to disrupt traffic, but ran aground on one of the Society Islands. Making sure they were well armed the plucky captain, two officers and three sailors then sailed to Wakaya island (Fiji) in a small launch intending to steal another ship. Here, the impressively monikered Commander Count Felix von Luckner and crew were arrested by a British bobby, Sub-Inspector Hills, waving an empty revolver. Although captain of a ship disguised as a merchantmen, but armed with cruiser calibre weapons, the Count considered himself a Gentleman and refused to fight a man in uniform whilst he himself was in civvies! But shortly he was to escape for awhile in the prison-commandant's launch…, but that's another story.

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Meanwhile during their overseas adventures HMAS Australia, Melbourne, Brisbane and Sydney took on the role of float plane carriers for the Royal Naval Air Service and gained much experience with several types of seaplane.

The RAN had toyed with the idea of a Naval Air Service as early as 1913, and in 1917 had tried, unsuccessfully, to borrow a RN 'aircraft carrier' in response to the appearance of the Wolf and Seeadler. In Oct. 1917 Commander Cumberledge of HMAS Brisbane, now minus her British seaplane and returned to patrol around New Guinea and the Solomons, was saying "the ideal method of watching this part of the world would be by seaplane; the smallest type could always find smooth water from which to operate". But at that time there were no such aircraft available to the Australians. Plans or funding at least for a RANAS were still someway off when peace broke out on 11th Nov. 1918. So early in 1919 those HMAS ships still away from home gave their seaplanes back to the newly formed RAF and aircraftless, but no doubt with glad hearts headed south.

The RAN was not to stay flightless for long however. In 1920, included in Britain's Imperial Gift Scheme to Australia of 128 aircraft where two AVRO 504L's, twin seat float planes. The AVRO 504 was designed in 1913 as a land based 'standard service' machine, but even at the prototype stage it was tried with floats. The AVRO 504 had a successful war. Early on, before fast fighters made their appearance, 504's had the distinction (if that’s the right word) of being the first planes to strafe ground troops. The type was also the first to be used in an organised bombing raid on Germany, when three attacked the Zeppelin sheds in Friedrichshafen (small World!) 21st Nov. 1914. It was also the first Allied type to be downed by enemy fire. Later however, because of its relatively slow speed it was mainly used as a trainer and non-belligerent general-purpose machine. It was extremely successful in these roles ensuring a long service life in many countries around the world. But...

AVRO 504L H3042 with well weathered floats being worked on in Melbourne. It seems that on about 12th Oct. 1920 this aircraft became the second aircraft to fly in PNG, but only just! (RAAF)

AVRO 504L - H3042 was placed onboard HMAS Melbourne on 29th Sep. 1920 and possibly because of Cumberledge's 1917 and then repeated pro-seaplane comments promptly commenced a cruise to the New Guinea Islands. This was a public relations exercise to impress the populace of the recently mandated territories with British Empire technology and show the Australian flag; specifically at 'localities with the greatest number of German Companies and Planters'. H3042 was photographed on the beach in Rabaul during this trip; unfortunately it would appear it was paddled there!

A crowd, possibly with smirking Germans and embarrassed Aussies to the fore and unimpressed locals to the rear, inspect the impotent AVRO 504L H3042 in Rabaul Oct. 1920. The second aircraft to fly in PNG, and the first to breakdown! (AWM)

Although AVRO 504L H3042 was to become the second aircraft to fly in Papua New Guinean airspace, the cruise was viewed as a failure. The main report on the trip, filed as 'HMAS 'Melbourne' Cruise to Mandate Islands. Failure of Seaplane allotted by Air Board for Cruise', is boldly stamped Confidential and as with any Australian failure, forgotten.

Not only did the seaplane disappoint, the Commodore complained - 'BOUGAINVILLE and the ADMIRALTY ISLANDS and other desired places could not…(be) visited on this occasion - an opportunity which may not occur again - for want of a few hundred tons of Australian Coal the failure to show the flag… being apparently due to coal strikes or their probability'. And - 'The wireless… was so bad and slow, that I was practically isolated…'

The report states that whilst in the Woodlark Islands on 11-12th Oct., H3042 actually rose 200 feet into the air with Ft Lt Freyer-Smith at the controls - 'greatly impressing the natives', but then had to land due to engine problems in the 'very hot and damp' air. What must have been an un-well little 130 HP Clerget rotary engine was unable to produce enough power to keep it aloft, and later, even pull it from the water. The Melbourne carried on to Rabaul arriving 14th Oct., but despite a change of aero-engine there were no more flights. On the 20th the Melbourne left the seaplane in Rabaul for further tests and continued on to New Ireland. The Commodore was still optimistic when he left, instructing Freyer-Smith and observer 'to carry out a survey of Mioko harbour etc'. The Melbourne returned to Rabaul for two days on the 25th to embark the seaplane, but there had been no survey.

After the plane's fruitless dashes across Simpson Harbour in an attempt to get airborne there is the comment - 'the affect on the natives of the inability of the seaplane to fly was bad as the Germans will put it about that a German machine would have done so...'. The exploits of the Wölfchen were well known by this time, Commander Nerger having published a rather self-congratulatory book (1918) about the Wolf's voyage and F. G. Trayes in 1919 had published one about his experiences as a Wolf captive. The Wölfchen had managed 56 reconnaissance flights and spent 61 hours and 25 minutes in the air during their voyage. By the time the Melbourne returned to Australia H3042 had one truncated flight of perhaps three or four minutes to her credit! ('Vorsprung Durch Technic!') As a foil to what the German's were 'putting about' the Commodore 'endeavoured to initiate a propaganda that the machine was not a real seaplane but only a land machine experimentally converted with an unsuitable engine lacking in reserve of power necessary for flying in damp tropical air…'. This may explain the rather strange title of the AWM's image of the AVRO at Rabaul, 'Conversion of hmas melbourne rabaul, new guinea.jpg.'

In the AVRO's defence there must have been serious mechanical, fuel, or maintenance issues onboard, not just 'hot and damp air'. A seaplane's lot is to operate in damp air, and the model had flown in many hotter and as humid places; the design was well liked and usually known for its reliability. The AVRO had a 130 HP engine and fully loaded weighed ~860 kg, the Friedrichshafen had 150 HP and weighed ~1535 kg, so lack of 'reserve of power' alone can not explain their different performances, as when working properly the AVRO had the better power to weight ratio. When they got back to Cairns, H3042 got to 2000 ft, but still the engine's 'revolutions' was not considered sufficient for a safe public display; the Mayor was informed and an anticipated display cancelled.

The Commodore of the Melbourne notes that he hopped that - 'if possible machines, which will fly for certain, may be sent up next year'. But it looks like a military aircraft did not make it back to Rabaul until 1926 when GPCapt. Williams and McIntyre toured Papua New Guinea and the Solomon Islands in a DH-50A aircraft fitted with floats. With Supermarine Seagull Mk III A9-3, surveying Rabaul in 1928. (anyone with more information about 1920's flights over Rabaul?)

The final comment on the Australian Air Board's début in PNG is a hand-written scrawl (dated 7 Jan 1921) on the front page of the report, which notes: 'Report has been perused. The Air Board is now taking steps to obtain 12 up-to-date seaplanes each with an engine of 375 HP from London for use from HMA ships'. Six (an accountant's dozen?) Fairey IIID seaplanes powered by 375 HP Rolls-Royce Eagle engines were on the books by the end of 1921, bought by the RAN, but received by the newly formed RAAF. So the cruise was not a complete failure as the experience gained ensured that when the Australian Airforce came into being in March 1921 (made 'Royal' in August that year) it was to get state-of-the-art seaplanes.

Incidentally H3042 had been the first aircraft to land on the Yarra River 26/06/1920. After the New Guinea cruise fiasco she was relegated to shore bases and became A3-47 in 1921 and in 1926 was converted to spare parts (military parlance for scrapped!).

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There is some irony in the fact that the first aircraft to visit Rabaul was an AVRO 504 as in 1921 Japan acquired 30 of them; 20 land and 10 float planes. These were used as trainers for naval pilots and then the fledgling Nakajima Aircraft Manufacturing Company started production of the model, honing their skills before they started to make designs of their own. So perhaps it could be imagined that in 1942 that first AVRO's descendents were returning to prove what could actually be done.

Until just a year or two before the First World War aviation was still a very primitive affair, aircraft were mainly designed and built on a trail and error basis, as such few ventured far from airfields, so one had never visited Papua or New Guinea. The two aircraft loaded aboard HMAS Una in 1914 could have been the first to fly in PNG but logistics, and apathy toward aviation by the traditional service men in charge, kept them in their crates. Both the first and second aircraft to fly in PNG, the Friedrichshafen and the AVRO were both on unique missions and their contribution to PNG aviation were as fleeting firsts, but being totally reliant on their mother ships they were not really trail blazing pioneers (especially the AVRO!). WWI had, however, led to great innovation and technical advances leading to increased endurance and load carrying capabilities. So as documented in Sinclair's 'Wings of Gold' (1978) aviation in PNG finally took-off unambiguously in 1922, soon to be spurred on to great things by the lure of gold in remote places.

To commemorate PNG's almost forgotten earliest wood and canvas flights, 90 and 87 years ago, the Rabaul Historical Society is making 1:19 scale models of the Friedrichshafen and AVRO for the New Guinea Club museum. SJS 01-2007

After 87 years AVRO 504L, H3042, finally flies over Rabaul (model in front of a mural at the New Guinea Club Museum).

Acknowledgements

Especial thanks to: -

Jon Woodhead, (of the University of Melbourne who fished the 1920 Cruise report from the bowls of the National Australian Archives in Melbourne and sent me copies of relevant pages).

Erica Ryan, (of the National Library of Australia, who pointed me in the direction of a couple of web documents).

2008-07-15T21:47:00.000-07:00

An article about the New Guinea Club prior to the Fire of 1993, written by then Club Manager Shane Jenkinson!

The HISTORIC NEW GUINEA CLUB

Significantly important in Rabaul History, the Club was founded in 1919 in the premises of Non-Commissioned Officers WW1.

The Club House as you see it today was built in 1937. It survived the volcanic eruption of that year but suffered heavy damage during WWII.

One of the first functions at the Club House was a formal Ball celebrating the ascension of King George VI.

The New Guinea Club also instigated and for many years held the Frangipani Ball.

Rebuilt in 1949 after WWII, the Club prospered. Our Tennis courts had been destroyed and Admiral Yamamoto had built his Command Bunker there. This portion was donated by the Club to the Historical Society and remains today.

The New Guinea Club is the only Club in Rabaul with full facilities, namely: Accommodation, lunch, dinner, private bar, garden bar, snooker hall, dining room, lounges, television, conference facilities and gardens.

The Law Bowls Green was commissioned in 1962 and is played on competitively day and night, the Volley Ball Courts were recently installed and more than 300 players compete weekly.

Friday Night is family night with Happy House, Raffles, Key Draw and Snooker Red Ball Competition.

With currently in excess of 300 Members the Club is arguably the largest in Rabaul.

As a member of the Club, you can join the Snooker Team, Darts Team, Cricket Team, Volleyball Team, and Bowls Team or just be SOCIAL! Bring a friend to our FABULOUS FRIDAY BUFFET LUNCH - best value in Town.

We hope to see you soon at,

THE NEW GUINEA CLUB
Central Avenue
PO Box 30
Rabaul
East New Britain.