The film Tukana – Husat i asua?, set in pre-crisis Bougainville, is one of Papua New Guinea’s favourite local movies.
The eponymous protagonist, Tukana, is a lovable buffoon like Mr. Bean. The character was brought to life by Albert Toro and opposite was Francesca Semoso, who played the role of Lucy in the film.
The tagline for Tukana defines its purpose as ‘Husat I Asua?’ meaning ‘who is to be blamed?
Though the film is based around its physical comedy, like Mr. Bean and Mr. Bones, it special because it captures the issues and attitudes towards Bougainville’s future that existed at the time and continue to exist today.
'Tukana' tells the story of a university dropout in Papua New Guinea returning to his native village in Buka Passage, North Solomons. His parents want Tukana to marry a school teacher, Josephine, and settle down. But he secretly slips away to Panguna and a driving job with Bougainville Copper. He takes up with Lucy, a high school student who drops out herself later on, and he also drinks long and hard. But he returns home to marry Josephine when his parents actually begin the bride price exchange and summon him.
Meanwhile Lucy has resumed an affair with another man, but her wantoks [relatives] favour marriage with Tukana and they organise sorcery against Josephine. In the climactic scene Josephine succumbs, and she is killed by a drunken hit-run truck driver. Tukana is left alone but he decides to drop back in and become a school teacher.'
The crisis has caused Bougainville to be portrayed negatively, but in reality Bougainvilleans are funny, loving, peaceful and friendly people. Films present an opportunity to change the perception and show the real Bougainville.
The recent film, Mr. Pip, exemplifies the real Bougainville, which is portrayed as peaceful, friendly and danger-free. As well the region's portrayal in the film itself, positives can be drawn from the completion of its production in Bougainville without any interference or danger.
Larry Garner was born in London. In 1973, he left his home to discover the world and immigrated to Australia and Africa. He has worked in the mining industry for over forty years. His first book, "To Oz and Back", described his first three years in Australia and was released in 2012. He is currently residing on the Sunshine Coast in Queensland, Australia.
Here's an excerpt:
The next morning, after breakfast, we caught the night shift bus down to the coast making for Pub Island. We first stopped at Arawa, the main town on the coast, to do a few errands. Like most blokes, I don’t like shopping, but once in a while it’s nice to buy something you really need like soap, or in my case a cassette player and half a dozen cassettes. As I was seriously thinking about staying in Bougainville for a while I decided a bit of music would help to make me comfortable.
We needed transport too, as became obvious when we wanted to continue to the town of Kieta. With a poor bus service and taxis few and far between we started walking but Seb, who must have been in his 60s, soon tired of that so we eventually waved down a passing taxi to take us the six kilometres to Kieta.
The town had been the working port of Bougainville long before the mine was even thought of, since the turn of the century in fact. The same was true of the Chinese general store that sold everything from anchors to ice. What an interesting place-I could have spent the day in there. After visiting the general store we headed up the street to the Kieta Hotel.
It was hot down on the coast. Living up in Panguna we weren’t used to the heat and it didn’t take long to feel the bite of the sun. Even before lunchtime it was sweltering out there.
Burgess had worked for the company during the construction of the mine. He told us they had built a resort just out from Kieta on Aropa Island, now commonly known as Pub Island.
The ferry to the island left from the Kieta Hotel so, while Burgess and Seb went looking for the ferry master, Rommel and I bought the beers. What a location it was, right down on the water with a splendid view out over the South Pacific. Rommel and I sat at a table on deck. If we had sat there all day I would have been quite happy.
When Burgess and Seb returned after a few they announced that, sitting on deck where we were, might be as close as we were going to get to Pub Island.
‘The engine has thrown a bearing,’ Seb told us. ’They’re waiting for parts from Moresby.’ He said the ferry might be ready in a couple of days, but it wouldn’t be running out to the island today.
‘No other boats?’ Rommel asked.
‘Don’t know, didn’t ask.’
‘I could live here,’ I said, gazing out over the ocean.
‘You’ve only been here five minutes,’ Seb said.
‘I could buy a boat, run charters and sail around the islands. I could work up at the mine during shutdowns and spend the rest of my time down here on the water.’
‘You’d be bored out of your mind in no time,’ said Burgess.
‘No, no I wouldn’t. There are a million things to do when you have a boat like fishing, diving, maintenance, women … I wouldn’t find time to get bored.’
No-one offered any more arguments.
‘Might join you …’ Rommel conceded.
We spent an hour in the pub, enjoyed a good lunch, and just when we seemed to be settling in for the afternoon, Burgess suggested a walk along the esplanade.
There were all sorts of craft moored along the quay, including a couple of yachts, a small coaster and the Meadowbank, the big ship from Liverpool that was docked here the day I arrived.
‘I wonder if we can go aboard,’ I said absently as we approached the ship and noticed a bit of life.
‘Any chance of a look around?’ Seb asked a guy coming down the gang plank.
‘Shouldn’t be a problem. Wait here, I’ll be back in a minute after I’ve just mailed these letters and I’ll take you aboard myself,’ he said in a very cut glass English accent.
When he returned he gave us a quick tour of the ship. I had always entertained ideas of going to sea when I was growing up. I thought romantic thoughts of travelling to the South Seas but my dad told me that most of the people who went to sea were ’a sad bunch of drunks’. Our guide gave no indication at all that he was sad or drunk.
We ended up in the galley where we met the first mate, chief engineer and purser, and when it became known that there were guests aboard, the skipper joined us. I feared they might have thought us intrusive or just downright nosey for almost inviting ourselves aboard, but apparently it was not unusual in foreign ports and we were made quite welcome. The skipper, Les Toogood from Liverpool, was an older man, probably the same vintage as Seb.
‘Have you been at sea all of your life?’ I asked.
‘Not yet,’ came his well-used reply. We politely laughed.
‘I’ve been at sea nearly 40 years, most of it with the Bank Line, but I did a few years with the Blue Flu and the Blue Funnel.’
As he filled his pipe and the beers were passed around Les continued, ’I joined up as a cadet in 1937 and sailed the North Atlantic run from New York to Liverpool and back.’
‘Did you ever run up to Archangel and Murmansk?’ I asked.
He nodded. ’During the war, we were seriously damaged on one of our runs up there.’
He was good at telling stories and we warmed to him as he set the scene.
‘One bitterly cold afternoon in late November it was getting dark although it was only about three o’clock. I was on watch looking for U Boats, but visibility was too poor to see any tell-tale tales signs. All of a sudden, without warning, a tanker way off our port beam erupted. We saw just a massive flash at first and then the boom reached us a few seconds later.
‘The tanker only burned for a couple of minutes before she went down: there would have been no survivors. Less than 10 minutes later another tanker off our port beam, closer than the first, was hit by one torpedo and then a second. We were about to manoeuvre to pick up survivors but our escort told us to maintain course. If you slowed down, they believed, you became an easier target.
‘The skipper wasn’t keen on leaving possible survivors behind and he was seriously considering ignoring the order when we were hit ourselves. It felt like the whole ship leapt out of the water.’
‘What were you carrying?’ I asked.
‘We were a refrigerator/freezer ship carrying frozen food. The first torpedo blew our engine room to bits and everyone in there: the second tore a hole in our bow so that we immediately started to take on water and list.’
‘Were you on the Empire Glade?’ Seb asked.
There was a stone cold silence as the two men looked at each other. Les had never mentioned the name of the ship so there was only one way Seb could have known.
‘You sank us?’ Les asked.
‘I think so. The tanker was an American ship, the Hector Valley, and the ship we hit before yours was ….’
‘… our sister ship the Empire Lea. My brother went down with that ship.’
The silence lingered. ’I’m sorry,’ Seb said finally. ’Would you like me to leave?’
‘No, no. All of this happened a long time ago and it’s about time it was put to bed.’ He was really very casual about it.
‘Tell us about your war Seb. Were you ever sunk?’ Les asked.
‘Oh yes.’ He described the terror of sitting at his station listening to the depth charges exploding all around and wondering if the next one might just be the one to hit their U Boat.
‘But we were on the surface charging our batteries when our boat was sunk. We were in the Sargasso Sea, not far from Bermuda, on a beautiful afternoon and I was on watch with two others taking in the sunshine when we were hit by dive bombers. Two direct strikes blew the boat into the next century and blew me about a hundred metres.’ Seb’s German accent was perfect for his story.
‘We survived in the water for three days and three nights. Sharks came close on a few occasions but fortunately never touched us. We were in the shipping lanes and a U Boat supply ship eventually picked us up and brought us back to Bremen.
‘When I next went to sea we were sunk again. It was a year later in the Mediterranean and depth charges hit us. We managed to reach the surface where we fought a gun battle with a destroyer. We came second, but luckily managed to avoid capture because they shot at us in the water and left us for dead …. Not very pleasant times, Les.’
‘You’re right.’
‘Whose gonna top that?’ Burgess asked looking at Rommel and me.
We could both tell a fairly good story, but Les and Seb were in a different class.
Our time aboard came to an end as our sailor friends had to sail with the afternoon tide, so we thanked them for their hospitality and wished them good luck. We waved as they slipped their moorings, promising them a tour of the mine and plant next time around, but I never saw Les again.
We headed back up the hill to Panguna. My little adventure seemed to pale compared to Seb’s. Back in my room with the light out, I thought of Seb listening to the depth charges and wondering if the next charge would end it all. No, I thought, Seb could have his adventure. I was quite happy with mine.
And here are some more excerpts:
Click here for a description of Camp 6 at Loloho and click here for some more on Bougainville.
Eric Chang on far right with friends Stephen Lee and the now Sir Leo Woo in Rabaul
Hello Peter.
Worked with Bechtel from 1971 and Nikana Wholesalers from 1974; Dept of Transport 1972 and Bougainville Pharmacies 1973-1979. I left Bougainville in March 1979, lived and worked there till 1980 then left. I have been in Port Moresby since 1981 and have made it "home". I have a freight frorwarding business called Hi-Lift Co. Ltd. I now have my son Matthew running it and am taking a back seat. I now spend some time in Brisbane when I need a break from PNG.
I looked at some of the photos on your website. Doesn't Owen Dwyer look young? I suppose we were all young; I was 20 years old when I went to Bougainville, he just seemed old to me, his partner was Tom Black who worked with us in Bechtel's Loloho Customs department. One of the photos had Alan Spicer in it, do you remember him? When I was last in Brisbane, my wife and I got out some of the old slides of Bougainville and that brought back some memories. I will look through my slides and post a few on the site.
Do you remember Tony Re? I hear from him occasionally. I usually contact him if we go to Melbourne. He is now semi-retired. Interesting to read thru the list of names it brings back a lot of memories.
We have lived in in Port Moresby since 1981 and still happy there!
I made my first contribution to your site a few months ago - see here - to correct some misinformation about Colleen and Graham Hoskin’s boat, the St Joseph. I write again to perhaps ‘fill in some more gaps’, if not correct.
I note from other sites that the Arawa Bulletin began publication in the late 70’s. Now unless there was indeed an Arawa Bulletin before Arawa Town was properly established, then it seems unlikely that there might have been any sort of newspaper-type publications for general readership.
Personally, I landed on Bougainville on 20th November, 1970 and my wife Vesna joined me there some six weeks later. Transiting through Kobuan ‘rest camp’, through Kieta and Arawa, it was noted by our driver, as we forded the Bovo River (no bridge) that ‘that’s where Arawa will be’; we saw a large copra plantation, owned by the McKillop family. I was probably among the first of what BCL called ‘support staff’ and was initially attached to the Training Centre in Panguna. We did in fact live in Panguna for about three months, in a little one-bedroom fibro house on what was then Married Hill. I understand the pit ultimately swallowed both Married Hill and the Training Centre.
Any sort of printing plant on the Island was operated by the contractors Bechtel, who had a photocopier and an offset printing machine, both of which were quite inundated, all the time. The next surfacing of printing gear, besides perhaps some of the missions, was the BCL Training Department, and I was the incumbent ‘graphics person’ if you want call me that. Some might call me something very different! A couple of Rex Rotary ink duplicators and a couple of stencil cutters were the extent of the equipment. As one of very, very few printing or duplicating installations on the island, I was first stop for the organisers of the proposed Arawa Bulletin. I can recall scratching a very rough image onto a duplicating stencil, one night at my house, which was by then in Taunas Place, Arawa. Nothing particularly remarkable about the artwork, except that I included a large pair of testicles and other appendages hanging from one of the coconut palms. This inclusion didn’t go unnoticed, I might add. Anyway, I’d reckon that would have been around mid-1971, so the Arawa Bulletin can be credited with more than six or seven years prior to the late seventies.
There was another publication, published out of Kieta, I believe, called the Kieta Krap. Pretty scurrilous it was, too. I didn’t ‘do’ it!
Concentrates Magazine, a sort of staff newsletter, began publication around 1972, I think it was. I can verify the first sheet, as I have a complete collection of Concentrates from inception to when I left the island in August, 1975. I’ll look up definite dates for further inclusion. The first Concentrates was a ‘broadsheet’, single-page, two-colour effort printed in Moresby by PNG Printing. Around the same time, BCL embarked upon another bit of ‘blurb’, called Panguna and this was to be the ‘lead’ publication and concerned itself with very general ‘stuff’. This I can vouch for first hand, as latterly, as the printing section grew, we included typesetting capacity among our gear. We ( BCL Printing, as it was then known) took over setting of the ‘galleys’ for Panguna Magazine around 1973, or thereabouts.
The ‘troubles’ on Bougainville were just beginning as we left in 1975 and one riot closed the mine for two days and nobody had the faintest idea of what was transpiring. A meeting was called with myself in attendance and it was decided that a special issue of Concentrates, reverting to the original broadsheet format, be produced. As one of those ‘at the coalface’, I do assert that some of my input was at least listened to, particularly that expats needed to know the facts, with no managerial mumbo-jumbo clouding the issues. Don Vernon, to his credit was quite ‘up front’ with his assessments and these were duly published in the first issue of Concentrates actually printed on the Island. The next three issues were set up and printed in the BCL Print Shop, under my direction until I left in August, having been localised by Shong Babob, who took over as Printing and Duplicating Supervisor.
As I said, I have great wad of those early Concentrates and will scan and e-mail stuff from ‘em, if there’s any demand. The broadsheets might be a problem, as I’ll have to fold ‘em to fit my scanner.
Warwick Cuneo
Sydney
email cuneo.partners[AT]bigpond.comp>
