Mount Albert Edward Diary

by J. C. White

David Hutchinson and I helicoptered to Yongai at 08.00 hours with Winston Boysen of Pacific Expeditions, one of whose forbears was the creator of the Boysenberry. Arrival 08.40 hours at Yongai at 1,800m in sunshine. It had rained there the previous day but the helicopter pilot said they had been up to the repeater station on Mt Albert Edward the previous four days in sun. July/August is accepted as the best weather time for this mountain and the three of us had been up a year earlier. Martin Viru of Yoribai Village met us and his wife gave me a big hug. She had been to POM Hospital after our walk in 1987, where I had arranged her admission. By 09.30, I had assembled six carriers and off we went up the Mission Track (in 1987 we lost two days waiting for carriers). The sun shone. We walked through Pandanus groves. Busy Lizzie grows in the damp corners. At 13.20, we lunched above Yoribai Village in cloud. Warm enough for shirt-sleeves. Bracken, raspberries, violets, Chinese lanterns, orange lilies. At 16.05, we camped at Leveli, pitching our tent by the path near the hut with a Pandanus leaf roof at2/00m. It rained. Both David and Winston developed altitude headaches and did not eat.

Wednesday, 6 July 1988. Clear sky by 07.20. Wet grass. We saw one black sickle-billed bird of paradise and the men in the hut felt an earth tremor. 08.30, set off. 10.00, stop at the junction of the track from Yoribai, where we came up last year (why did it look different?). We were above the tree-line. Bracken and lupin flowers. Banks of white cumulus cloud shifting at various levels. Martin explained that his people spoke Fuyuge but over the hills it was Tawadi. “White man” is “Tidi”. At 10.50, we were in the Murray Pass at 2,750m, cloudy and cool. Straight on was Tidibamu (or Sidibamu), meaning “white man’s woman”. His explanation was enigmatic (the original white men being the French/Swiss Catholic fathers). It was cloudy and cool. We took a short-cut to the right (North) through a wet moss-forest but roundatambu area, which must be avoided and to which “men go to die”, apparently because of the presence there of certain pointed rocks, which are poisonous or otherwise dangerous. This was after Martin’s statement that their grandfathers feared the mountain because of spirits, but the Catholic fathers taught them otherwise! We came to the Neon Gap and the sun came out briefly to show us the Neon basin underneath. At 15.30 we camped, after seven hours of walking over the grasslands, by a stream with fern trees in the pouring rain at about 3,200 metres, cold.

Thursday, 7 July 1988. Awoke to pouring rain. Moved off at 10.15 in thick, white cloud. At 11.25 we were at the junction to the Neon Basin track with cloud obscuring Mt Albert Edward to the North. About 3,400m, cold. Michael and four young porters went down towards the Basin because of the cold and we got to the summit hut (Gilles hut, after the French/Swiss, who got it built in about 1973) at 13.30 with Martin and 19-year old Amo. 3750m, on a grassy ridge, cold, cloudy with occasional views. The hut is stripped to the fou r walls, one with two panels missing to the West side, noequipment except six bed-frames with springs, no means of heating, water quite far below. Cold as the grave. We saw the sun set behind Mount Yule to the west.

Friday, 8 July 1988. From Gilles hut to Father Dubuy’s Cross on the East Dome summit of Mt Albert Edward (Bioda). Waking at 06.30 am in the Gilles hut, it was cold but reasonably dry — dressed and eating breakfast at 07.00 am, views of the red tarn and the grasslands below, and down towards the Northern slopes above the Neon Basin, were obtained through shifting mists. Above, the track for the summit over a low hill was clear, as were sightings of tarns in the valley to the left below and beyond. Nothing could be seen of the summit region, however, although some brief but perfectly clear views had been obtained the previous late afternoon (with even a fleeting sunset illumination of the East dome).

All too soon, the mist closed in, with rain and cold wind coming from the direction of the Chirima Valley. DJH had mild but definite altitude symptoms, and it was decided he and Amo remain at the hut, whilst at 08.00 am Winston and I set off with Martin, confident in his leadership and knowledge of the whole summit region, and equipped with some food, water and extra protective clothing in small day-packs. The narrow, grassy track proceeding uphill immediately from the hut was perfectly easy to follow, in spite of considerable mist, and wound very directly over and skirting several hills and depressions in a northerly and North-east direction. Short grass was varied with boggy and rocky patches, and glimpses of the small tarn below the hut where our water had been obtained, and more distant tarns to the North-west, were just visible. By a rocky outlook above Tonombo (orTongumbo) tarn to the left, rain was heavy; beyond, the track approaches high hillsides to the left, and mounts steeply to grassy moorland again before descending to a narrow, rocky ridge separating the larger Husband Guguba tarn on the left from the smaller Wife Guguba tarn, considerably lower down on the right, which is receiving water from the Husband by a narrow creek crossed on the ridge, and then giving rise to the Chirima River. A solitary pair of Salvadori’s Teal were just visible in the middle of the Husband tarn, and two distant tarns towards the West Dome. A few showy, red flowers, abu ndant lower down, were still seen in this inhospitable area, as well as small, flowering heaths. The East Dome slopes were now directly ahead, and the track mounted a broad, grassy chimney inclining to the right, then turned left at the top and wound up over grassy slopes and ledges between large plates of rock to directly below the ridge, on which Father Dubuy’s Cross stands, about 3,990 metres (some 13,000 feet). This was reached after 2V2 hours’ walking from the hut. The Repeater Station was visible intermittently across a saddle to the East but nothing could be seen of the West Dome. The return took the same time and, at first very wet and misty, it was clearer when the hut was reached.

It was cold in the wind — nobody wished to spend a second night at the hut and, after welcome hot soup and lunch, the red, dry and nearby larger wet tarns were soon reached through improving conditions and a pronounced rise of air temperature. Martin took us off over open grassland to the right, traversing a valley to a forested zone, where the orthodox track to the Northern end of the Neon Basin was joined, leading rapidly down to the Oula hut, where the rest of the party had made a comfortable encampment. The late afternoon was now clear, dry and reasonably warm, and a magnificent view of Mount Yule in the sunset was obtained directly westwards.

The conditions were certainly not ideal for the summit walk, but gave rise to no concern with Martin to lead; otherwise, it would have been very different.

Why does one undergo these discomforts? Certainly there are discomforts, but always balanced by deep satisfactions, which will vary for each individual — for example, three years ago at the junction of the Fane and Fatima mission tracks, the view of the distant hills to the Murray Pass promised high moorlands beyond — and indeed there are such, with close similarities to the fascinating Three Peaks (Ingleborough, Whernside and Penyghent) of the Craven Pennines of Northern England, but on roughly six times the scale! But, speaking strictly for myself, I call to mind Dr Samuel Johnson’s comparison in another context with a dog walking on its hind-legs — Sir, it is not so much that it does not do it well, it is surprising that it does it at all.

Saturday, 9 July 1988. Blue sky. Cloud blowing over from the East in that cold, wet East-north-east wind, which had spoiled the mountain for us, but evaporating in the Western sun. Mount Yule in sight. The Neon Basin covered in early morning mist. Birds twittering in the forest. Down the track by the Kuropa stream at 0855 and by 10.00 on the Basin, to the “bridge” over the Neon or Neyom (called “Guimo”, as it flows North finally to reach the Northern coast near Morobe as the large Maria River). The grassy basin is all tussocks and holes to trip you up. We fished all day. Overpopulation has reduced the size of the trout to six to ten inches. No problem catching 50 or so, on fly, lure or worm. It rained at 1530 and we retired to a bracken-roofed hut on the forest edge, 500 metres away. We ate trout for dinner, while wild dogs howled in the hills.

Sunday, 10 July 1988. An 08.00 start in brilliant sun, not a cloud in sight. Walked along a North-flowing stream, set about with fern-trees. About 2500m. At 09.15, we passed the wreckage of a US aircraft from the War. At 10.15, the forest started. Bamboo, Pandanus, slippery, steep track. Yellow or red ginger flowers. 11.00, view of Kosipe below. Balancing across logs laid over ravines. 13.15, out of forest into bush pit—pit and the edge of the track rooted up by pigs. 13.40, lunch at river in Pandanus grove by a village. Then across the tip of the huge Kosipe swamp and at 17.15 arrived at Catholic Mission, a little group of Swiss chalets on a hill, empty since Father Alex Michellod left in mid-1988. “John” came up from the village behind the abandoned airstrip and blew a cow-horn with a Wagnerian flourish, whereon Old Andrew ran up from the other village to dig out the keys and open the house. It started to rain. We slept on beds, with running water and a log fire. Surrounded by souvenirs of Father Alex, Swiss calendars, a cuckoo-clock, a book of songs (Le Marilon sur le Prunier).

Monday, 11 July 1988. At dawn, the new moon was low over the Murray Pass and mist covered the valley. Sunny by 07.00. Started to walk along the road to Woitape at 09.35, past kau-kau gardens, with the huge swamp on our left. Butterflies, swiftlets, goshawks screaming, pools of water on the red laterite road. 13.30, lunch over the ridge with a view of Woitape. Light rain. 16.05, arrived footsore at Owen Stanley Lodge.

The walk was completed, but there still remained the warm welcome at the Owen Stanley Lodge by Ken and Kerrie Wearing, and the fortunate and stimulating encounter with Father Maye of Fatima mission and Father Alex, visiting Woitape and then Kosipe with his nephew and niece from Switzerland. In recollection, we had all had a most rewarding time. It may be thought that a mountain is being made of a mole-hill (but, if so, what a mole-hill!), and we are well aware that many fine walkers can and do complete this circuit in a fraction of the time, and with a fraction of the equipmentand supportwhich weemployed — butwewould like to feel that the average walker can take interest in this lovely region. Nonetheless, it is a large tract of country, and the weather can be difficult, particularly in the higher regions with significant chill factor, and adequate familiarity with the terrain, sufficient warm clothing, food and shelter for all, and appropriate medical supplies are essential.

In conclusion, to paraphrase the good Dr Samuel Johnson (and others) again, granted that Papua New Guinea has many fine prospects, of the many fine prospects these Sassenachs have seen, the vasty uplands and plains of Bioda and Neyom can hold their own with the best.