PNGAF MAGAZINE ISSUE #9B-5B4B3 OF 14th July 2021 Eminent TPNG Forester Chris Borough

AUSTRALIAN FORESTERS in PAPUA NEW GUINEA 1922-1975

PNGAF MAGAZINE ISSUE # 9B -5B4B3 of 14th July 2021 FOREST MANAGEMENT. Eminent TPNG Forester Chris Borough.

Life as a Cadet Forest Officer.

Old friends. Ben Pascoe from Lockhart Community on Cape York with Chris Borough1.

Photo credit Chris Borough.

Editor R B McCarthy2 2021.

Chris Borough. - Life as Cadet Forest Officer.

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Chris Borough TPNG Forests 1960-1971.

Dick McCarthy District Forester TPNG Forests 1963-1975.

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1960 - AWARDED A TPNG CADETSHIP In my family the word University meant nothing. I had heard that to become a teacher you needed to attend University and then Teachers’ College. When it came to the end of High School there was no careers advice, but I held a strong view that I did not want to be office bound and not be like the ferry passengers who just buried their heads in the Daily Mirror and did not bother to take in the constantly changing scene in Sydney Harbour.

My mum came to the rescue – she searched high and low and found that cadetships were available that paid a small salary and paid the University fees. Only one hitch – there was a requirement to spend a minimum of 5 years in New Guinea after graduation – a concept that was a bit terrifying when my friend’s brother, Cadet Patrol Officer Geoff Harris had been killed by natives in November 1953.

I started working as a survey assistant subdividing farmland west of Liverpool. It was a long way from Balmoral Beach where I lived to Liverpool, but I was able to catch the bus to Chatswood to pick up a lift.

The daily assault of moist Paspalum seeds covering my legs, the never-ending chook pens and abandoned houses did not endear me to the profession of Surveyor.

I applied for anything my mother and I could think of and during March 1960 I received a telegram that I had been accepted as a Cadet Forest Officer and to immediately enrol at Sydney University. Farewell my career in Surveying!

It was only in 2018 that I discovered that I had already been engaged by the Commonwealth Department of Taxation as a Clerk. Thankfully, I did not know about the Taxation Department job and my father came up with the bond (£500) for the Cadetship and there I was at Sydney Uni., just a week after Orientation Week.

I had signed up for a Bachelor of Science Degree that involved two years in science, a field year in TPNG, and two years at the Australian Forestry School in Canberra. My life beside the sea at Balmoral Beach was indeed about to change.

STUDYING SCIENCE AT SYDNEY UNIVERSITY First Year at Sydney University (1960) was brilliant; I joined SUSS (Sydney University Speleological Society) and explored caves everywhere. During the Christmas break I was sent by overnight train to Coffs Harbour. There, together with fellow TPNG Cadet, John Harrison, and two Malaysian students – Mustafa bin Muda and Low Chong Fung - we worked with Alex Floyd and his assistants to measure research plots and establish new trials.

It was at Coffs Harbour Jetty that I read the dreaded piece in the Herald – I had failed 3 out of 4 subjects – Geology 1 being my only Pass.

This was a BIG wake up: I would have to use all my savings to pay the University fees of £120. And I would be required to continue to pay my Superannuation (another £45).

Fortunately, my family fed me over my repeat year, and I realised University was hard work.

I was determined to never again fail a subject.

I passed all subjects (with Credits) the second time around (1961). For the Christmas vacation I was sent with a few other forestry students to do manual labour at Bondi Forests near Bombala. After only a week or so I injured my knee and had to get the train from Bombala to Cooma and then change trains for the half of the Canberra-Monaro Express that linked up with the Canberra section at Queanbeyan for the trip to Sydney.

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WORK EXPERIENCE IN CANBERRA – 1961/62 After a few weeks R&R, I was sent to work in the Department of Territories in Canberra with accommodation at Lennox House. Working hours were 0830 to 1651 with one hour for lunch from 1230 to 1330. The only buses to Lennox House left at 1652 on the dot; flexibility was not a feature of the Commonwealth Public Service. After Christmas I was stationed at the Forestry and Timber Bureau working for Alan Brown. It was here that I met and worked with other famous foresters including Jack Fielding, Alan McArthur, and Hugh Waring. I was also able to move from Lennox House to the Forestry House at the Australian Forestry School. The most notable students I met were Cadet Forest Officer Evan D. Shield (Big Ev) who drove a black Jaguar and Wilf Crane who later became a close friend and colleague.

I settled into second year in 1962 where I really found University life – a lot of work and a lot of play. It was on a caving trip to Cooleman Caves that I got to know Robyn Beresford and we became great friends. By this time, I had saved enough money to buy a second-hand Austin A40 which was an exploration vehicle as well as a way getting my mate Dave Black and me to Uni, and Robyn and me to shows around Sydney.

1963 TIME TO LEAVE AUSTRALIA FOR MY FIELD YEAR I had not realised it at the time, but I was to become the last Cadet Forest Officer to undertake a field year.

The day of reckoning was near – I was age 19 and ready to go. I sold my Austin A40 and on around 3rd January 1963 off I trotted to Port Moresby to start my New Guinea field year. The DC6 service from Sydney to Port Moresby via Brisbane was slow but exciting, nevertheless.

The pleasure soon diminished when there was no-one to meet me, and my luggage had been offloaded in Brisbane (or somewhere). The TAA bus dropped me off in Moresby where I wandered into the Bottom Pub and asked for a room – yes indeed, I was able to share the verandah with about twenty others in naturally air-conditioned comfort. It was just assumed that someone from the Dept. of Forests would pick up the tab.

Port Moresby in January is hot. I only had the clothes I stood up in and my cash reserves were minimal; fortunately, TAA was open on a Saturday morning and they gave me around £12 to buy some clothes from Steamships Trading which was some relief. Bathers were not part of the deal, but I was able to swim at Ela Beach in my shorts and use a towel from the hotel.

The next day (Sunday) was as boring as may be imagined – drinking SP beer was not on my agenda and Ela Beach wears thin after an hour or so. Monday – still no contact from my employer so it was the public bus (I was not a typical passenger!) to a place called Konedobu.

After walking aimlessly though a vast number of wooden buildings I finally located the Department of Forests office and identified myself. I was quickly told by an angry expatriate woman Clerk that I had missed my flight to Goroka that morning – I was obviously a very naughty boy, but this was the first I had heard of it – and where was Goroka anyway.

It was a delight to find my personal effects had arrived on Monday morning’s flight – a shower with soap and a cleansing of teeth becomes a wonder after finally shedding very sweaty clothes. On Tuesday, with ticket in hand and luggage securely by my side, I caught the TAA bus out to the domestic airport at Jackson’s Airstrip. The departure terminal was a Nissan Hut with no facilities bar a few chairs. My DC3 Skyliner (with side-saddle seats) was soon ready for take-off – my fellow passengers being all natives including one woman who was breast feeding a piglet. I knew then that this field year could well be remarkably interesting.

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GOROKA Gerry Vickers met me at the Goroka airport and the subject of my first assignment became clear – I was to work with John Lowien surveying an area of land at Marafunga way up in the mountains. Goroka was cool and pleasant (Goroka is 1500 m asl) but Gerry indicated that the altitude at Marafunga was around 10,000 ft (3000 m) and very cold; hence I was to be issued with 11 woollen blankets (one for each 1000 ft plus one extra). Gerry suggested a jumper would be useful, so it was off to a local trade store, and I was able to buy an ex-army khaki jumper. I had never even considered that New Guinea got cold. Now I knew; with my eleven blankets and my jumper I was ready for the mountains!

It did occur to me that the official list of clothing I was given by the Dept. Territories in Canberra (white suit and pith helmet) might have been a bit “out-of-touch with reality”. I also wondered why none of the Cadets were ever given training at ASOPA (Australian School of Pacific Administration in Mosman) – I concluded that Cadet Forest Officers were a forgotten lot and presumably knew enough to survive.

The first obstacle was a bridge with decking that had long since rotted away. The native driver seemed reasonably confident that we could cross OK, but I was not prepared to trust his judgement, so I abandoned ship. Going very slowly each wheel was very cleverly positioned over the two most likely girders and after a much shouting in a language I later found was Pidgin, the crossing was made.

Marafunga consisted of a few simple timber houses and a sawmill. This was no ordinary sawmill as it was powered by a large water wheel – driving a large reciprocating gang saw and a single breakdown bench. All the sawdust was dumped into the water flowing from the mill. After a short wait, a very dark man in shorts and cold shirt appeared and the mill manager indicated that I was to follow this chap. We had no means of communication but off we went along a small track through the forest.

My first encounter with native law was a man armed with a bow and arrow – the arrow was pointing straight at us. After a long discussion we were allowed to pass. Next was a very large, fast flowing river. My new companion firstly carried my pack and eleven blankets across and then came back and carried me! We finally arrived at John Lowien’s camp to find it deserted and through sign language I worked out that he would be absent for a time.

With little to do except eat the food my “cook” prepared, I sat writing letters and started learning pidgin; my first word was diwai (tree), quickly followed by balus (pigeon or aircraft). My first letter was to my mum in Mosman, please send me my sleeping bag and heaps of warm clothing. I leave it the reader to imagine a local native of short but muscular stature taking my envelope and its important contents and running along the track, over the fast-flowing river, up to the mill manager and finally via log truck to the Goroka Post Office.

I thought of the runners of WW1 and their importance. A little over a week later and my sleeping bag and warm clothes arrived in a couple of large parcels. The wonders of the postal system in TPNG! Big THANKS to mum in Mosman.

John Lowien enjoyed his whiskey but was a man of few words and the days spent surveying in the wet montane forest went slowly. Finally, I ended up at Marafunga alone and in charge of the trial plantation – an attempt to find which trees could be used for forest regeneration local species could not handle the regular frosts in the grassland that developed after the native forest was clear-felled. My only observation was that pigs were destroying the plantation and I ordered that the pigs’ owners remove them. Fatal Error: When a group of around 30 highlanders dressed to kill came up the road shouting and waving spears, I realised there was an issue. I was told, in no uncertain terms, that pigs have right of access 4

everywhere at Marafunga and my responsibility was to construct a stone banis around the planted area. I learnt a big lesson – I was a foreigner in their land, and I had overstepped the mark.

NEW BRITAIN Leaving Goroka for Rabaul was meant to be simple – hop on a flight or two and that is all. I had not realised that I was booked on a charter flight, and I was to be the only European passenger in a DC3 full of new recruits recruited to work for two years on a copra plantation on New Britain. The Departure area was full of women and children all wailing inconsolably. The new recruits were very scared about their first flight, and no sooner had we taken off when individuals started vomiting. The foul smell compounded the problem and every passenger bar one and the flight crew were vomiting. I simply had to go into the cockpit and stand all the way to Rabaul (about 3 hours) despite violent turbulence. A night in Ascot Hotel in Rabaul was most welcome before a truck came the next morning to take me to Keravat.

My abode in Keravat was a 3BR timber house opposite the trade store. No sooner had I arrived when a Maprik native appeared and demanded to be my houseboi. Upet Sali was particularly good at his job, but he could only cook one meal. A newly purchased recipe book enhanced the culinary experience a little.

My first job at Keravat was supervising the gangs undertaking work such as planting kamarere (E. deglupta) and teak (Tectona grandis). The work is hot and boring in the extreme.

I was able to convince my superiors that other tasks may suit my future career better and I took charge of the survey gang clearing along existing survey lines.

I “discovered” natural stands of kamarere growing along the Vudal River and thought it would be good to establish a “botanical walk”. This turned out to be a valuable reserve of tropical rainforest that had not been logged and was later extensively used by Forestry College students.

Chris working on Botanical Walk Kerevat Forest Station April 1963.

Photo credit Chris Borough.

BULOLO My next assignment was at Bulolo. John Godlee put me in charge of the annual seed collection program. A newly built shed featuring a large, enclosed seed sorting room and a cool room was to be my workplace for quite a few months. I was given a room in a BGD house already occupied by a technical assistant John Travers.

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The workforce was a small band of nuggetty men from somewhere in Papua and collectively known as the “Climbers”. These esteemed guys were “the best” and knew it – refusing to do anything other than collect seed. While hoop pine and klinkii pine were the two species of Araucaria that were found in the Bulolo Valley hoop pine seed could be stored for long periods without losing viability. Klinkii was found to outperform hoop in the longer term and the emphasis was to be on klinkii pine. Klinkii seed was extremely sensitive, and seed needed to be stored in sealed containers at a bit above freezing to maintain viability.

To obtain fresh seed, timing was essential; picking too early the seed would not germinate, picking too late and the seed cone would disintegrate, and the seeds dispersed. Cones had to be collected weekly, seeds extracted, embryos excised and measured – those around 8 mm long were ripe for picking. Fortunately, the season was staggered as dispersed stands matured at different times.

To climb a mature klinkii pine of around 250 ft was no mean feat.

The climber (in bare feet) would select a large rainforest tree and climb into the crown. Attached to his belt was a long pole with a hook attached and a lot of rope. From the top of the rainforest tree the climber would make a rope bridge to the first klinkii branch. Having negotiated the rope bridge, he would climb the very prickly trunk to within 20 ft of the top of the tree and hook the cones so they would fall. Waiting below were Chimbu workers who would collect the bags and carry them down steep slopes to a waiting truck. Carrying bags of cones was NOT the job of the Climbers.

Mature Klinkii Bulolo.

Climbers had to climb to the top of the tree to harvest seed. Photo credit Chris Borough 1963.

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I doubt today that anyone now could countenance the method used to obtain klinkii seed, but it worked, and no climbers were ever killed or injured to my knowledge.

By 1970, seed was able to be harvested from clonal seed orchards.

Bulolo 1970. Climbing a young clonal Klinkii Pine tree.

Photo credit Chris Borough.

My social life improved markedly at Bulolo. I first met Gary Archer - a Technical Officer who was raised in Wau and later trained as a Cadet Forest Officer. Greg O’Hara and Heinner Streimann joined us, and we became good friends. Heinner being a lecturer in the technicians training centre in Bulolo. We managed to encourage the students at the Forestry School to go to the movie theatre which was thought to be a no-no. All of us (about 6 students plus our gang of four) walked in and no-one said a word. From that point on segregation in the Bulolo Picture Theatre was a thing of the past – even though an advertisement was regularly screened stating “Europeans are not permitted in the BGD Compound after dark”.

As a group we explored the Bulolo Valley (Hot Springs, Baiune Power Station, coffee plantations), Wau and surrounds (Mt Kaindi, Edie Creek), Watut Valley, and the Upper Snake River (caving near Mapos Village). I even managed to hitch a ride on a DC3 charter to Goroka and Land Rover to Henganofi for another caving expedition. For me, every weekend was a new adventure.

PORT MORESBY My final posting was to Port Moresby, and I spent some time with fellow Cadet, Rob Bruce under Technical Officer Cliff Southwell but time was short. By sheer luck I met Raoul de Ferranti who was working with the Bureau of Mineral Resources. We immediately decided to climb Mount Wilhelm (14,800 ft) and invited Rob Bruce and fellow caver Gordon Bain.

We arranged to charter a Cessna 180 from Goroka to Keglsugl (8200 ft) and then arranged for carriers for the trek up Mount Wilhelm. Our planning was a bit out, however, as we had not worked out that working on Christmas Day was not an option, so we attended Midnight Mass at Keglsugl (a very memorable experience) and patiently waited for Boxing Day. 7

With three carriers we headed up through the montane forest dominated by Nothofagus to the alpine grassland at Lake Piundi (11,500 ft) where I collapsed at the rest house until I got over the nausea and headache of altitude sickness. The wreck of an American F-7A (a converted B-24 Liberator) that had crashed at an altitude of 13,000 ft in 1944 was a reminder of the troubled times of 1942/3. By this time, our carriers were complaining of the cold and departed leaving us to carry our own packs to the top. On the way we passed two unoccupied tents in the lea of the mountain top – only to find from my friend David Cook some 40 years later, that this was his surveyor’s camp triangulating the country in preparation for the establishment of the actual border between Papua New Guinea and West Irian.

Just below the summit we established camp (one small Paddy Pallin japara tent) in dense cloud. Our flag in the same colours as the National Geographic Society was flown at the trig station and a bottle of champagne with Pumpernickel bread and cigars helped celebrate our success before returning to the relative warmth of our crowded tent.

Gordon Bain & Raoul de Ferranti with flag depicting “National Pornographic Society” Photo Credit Chris Borough.

On the third night a massive snowstorm almost collapsed our tent, but daylight revealed a snow covered 360° view from Karkar Island to the Papuan Gulf.

BACK IN AUSTRALIA Over the year in TPNG I regularly wrote Robyn who was still working at the Botany Department at Sydney University and was now the most cherished person in my life. I had asked her to organise a caving expedition to the Nullarbor though Sydney University Speleological Society. By the way I also asked her to purchase (with my money) a brandnew Renault R4 from the Renown Service Station in Mosman for £799. Both tasks were done effectively although the Nullarbor expedition had left about a week before I touched down in Sydney. Within three days of hitting Australia Robyn and I were heading westward in my new R4 to Koonalda Station about 80 miles from the Western Australia Border. We finally found the group at Weebubbie Cave in Western Australia – heaven knows how we found them, but it happened.

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My leave from TPNG was being used up wandering WA, SA, and Vic but Robyn had applied for a position as technician with CSIRO Division of Plant Industry so stopped off at The Australian Forestry School and found a place to bunk down in the Billiard room. Her application was accepted, and she moved to Canberra.

Robyn and I married in late 1964 and I successfully passed all subjects. My TPNG Cadetship ended in January 1966, and we headed for Rabaul with our new daughter Janet to start a career as a Graduate Forester. I was not able to completely escape my Cadet years as I was bonded for 5 years as a Forest Officer in TPNG. We in fact stayed almost 6 years and left the Territory in late 1971 with two children and a tear in our eyes - TPNG had been our home.

1971 Group Photo of staff and students of Bulolo Forestry College celebrating Gabriel Samol’s new baby.

Back. Bob Johns, Terry Kera, Ed Doliano.

Middle. Herson Anson, Kathy and daughter, Gabriel Samol, Chris Borough, Lily Kloeti.

Seated. Martin Hukula, Phil Pope, Robyn Borough.

Children. Ruedi Kloeti, Suzanna Kloeti, Sandra Kloeti, Janet Borough, Tim Borough.

Photo Credit Hermann Kloeti.

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Bob Willis getting signatures on Open Bay TRP documents Matanakunai Sept/Oct 1967.

Photo credit Chris Borough.

Chris witnessing signature of Traditional owners with Bob Willis Open Bay TRP Matanakunai Sept/Oct 1967.

Photo credit Chris Borough.

Chris operating VL8PN radio to Rabaul Sept/Oct 1967.

Photo credit Chris Borough.

9/10/1967 Massive Waves at Matanakunai. Dave Num, Gary Flegg and Ron Turner.

Photo credit Chris Borough.

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Chris Borough A scary trip over Commodore Bay It was in May 1968 – I was running a forest assessment team out of Walo – a village on the eastern side of Commodore Bay. My wife Robyn (then 5 months pregnant) and my daughter Janet (age 2½) were able to travel over from Moresby to join me. Together with Paul Ryan we met the DC3 and duly set out in the mid-afternoon for a speedboat ride back to base camp at Walo. The speedboat was a 16ft tinnie with a Johnson outboard motor at the rear. Neither Paul nor I had realised how late it was and had misjudged the time needed to travel across Commodore Bay – we soon worked out that we should have stayed overnight at Hoskins.

We were unable to see the coast from the wide Commodore Bay, but we were able to get a fix on the Walo hills. As night fell, we noted stars above the Walo hills, so we just kept on aiming towards the stars. It was then that the stars started to get hidden by cloud. It was now pitch black, and we had no safety gear; things were not looking good. Suddenly I noticed a white foam patch dead ahead and only a very swift change in direction saved us from running on to the fringing reef. Closely following the white foam on the starboard side all seemed well and, wanting to avoid another reef, we reduced speed. By now we had lost all directional guides and were running on adrenalin. We figured by the elapsed time that we had successfully navigated the narrow channel between the mainland and the local Pigeon Island.

Suddenly the motor coughed and stopped. I remembered that we had another fuel tank, and, without torch, we managed to hook up the spare tank. I stood up for some reason and was amazed to see a huge beacon in the distance. A few pulls of the starting rope and the motor started. With much relief we were on the move again and we realised that the beacon was probably for our benefit. We finally reached the beacon, a great pile of burning driftwood.

We were welcomed by the whole camp who had fears for our safety (justifiably I might say).

Never had an assessment camp seemed like paradise. My reputation as a very naïve OIC was fully accepted and a beer or three was needed to calm the nerves of three of us – Janet just went to sleep. This event never appeared in any report!

Chris Borough’s daughter Janet on speedboat between Cape Hoskins and Walo in June 1968.

Photo credit Chris Borough.

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Cartoon from Bob Brown’s Grass Roots Guide to PNG Pidgin South Pacific Post.

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Chris Borough Bikpela puk puk.

On a rare occasion on the Resource Assessment Survey of New Britain, the chopper dropped our team of four into a coastal village. The haus kiap was available and suited me fine - the survey bois, however, were more than happy with the company of their fellow New Guineans.

After exploring the village and surrounds I was astounded when joined by another European – now there was someone to talk to in my mother tongue – Pidgin is fine, but one misses the subtlety of English.

After a short time, it became clear that my new acquaintance was a crocodile hunter and he invited me to join the hunt for a large croc that had been reported by local villages. After dinner, the croc hunter and team of four bois headed off in the 18ft tinnie. Up the first rapid – everyone had to get out and drag the boat up the rapid. Being a bit nervous of wading through croc-infested rivers, I was assured that all crocs had been shot out.

And so, the process was repeated, rapid after rapid until about six rapids later we reached a large pond – still no sign of any crocs. But this was where the Bikpela puk puk had been sighted so everyone on board kept silent and the tinnie very gently rowed across the pond.

The head lad switched on a powerful search light and there were two red eyes at water level.

Ever closer and another boi out came up to the bow armed with a powerful rifle. One shot and the croc vanished.

To my surprise all six of us were ordered into the water to feel along the bottom with bare feet to locate the croc. Having ascertained the croc’s location, we all had to duck-dive down and manhandle the twitching beast into the boat. This was no small feat, but the bois quickly tied up the croc’s jaw with bush “rope” and somehow, we managed to get 16 feet of croc into the boat and the event was over. Resting bare feet on the body of a still twitching croc is not everyone’s idea of fun.

We headed back to the village to the delight of the locals who could see cooked crocodile feeding the entire village for a week. All I wanted to do, however, was quickly depart the scene and the safety of the haus kiap.

From that moment on I decided that I would never ever volunteer to go crocodile hunting again.

A PNG puk puk.

Photo credit Mike Jones.

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Cartoon from Bob Brown’s Grass Roots Guide to PNG Pidgin South Pacific Post.

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Chris Borough The Hitchhiker.

The date was July 1968. It was just another routine reconnaissance chopper flight out of Ioma in Papua. With pilot Bill Wallace and another member of our team (I cannot recall who), we were following the Mambare River when Bill noticed a European waving furiously from his dugout canoe. The chopper was fitted with skids, so we landed on a nearby sandbank and had a yarn with this loner. Turns out he was a lay missionary from an Anglican Mission on the coast but his wife, who had been sent south with a serious illness, was desperately ill and in need of assistance. He told us that the Anglican Mission would not pay for him to fly to Brisbane, and he had no money; he decided to wait no longer and somehow hitchhike instead. We were never sure how far he had come paddling upstream along the large Mambare River, but he had only a small bag containing food and clothing.

Our hitchhiker missionary was picked up by chopper later that day and it was over a few beers back at camp that his plans were revealed. He planned to follow the river to its headwaters, cross the Owen Stanley Range and eventually make Port Moresby. From there God would find a way. Knowing full well how rough the country was between Ioma and Moresby we realised that the likelihood of him successfully undertaking his planned journey was slim; at least we were able to let him rest and give him food and shelter in the short term.

Salvation came, however, when Helicopter Utilities landed a STOL aircraft at the nearby Ioma airstrip; the aircraft brought an engineer and the needed parts to undertake a 100-hourly service on the chopper. Our hitchhiker was in luck! It was arranged in minutes – Helicopter Utilities would give him a lift to Moresby the next day.

We never saw him again, but we heard later that he had been accommodated in the TAA Mess in Moresby and was somehow found a seat on a TAA flight to Brisbane. We have no idea if he and his wife ever returned to the Mission Station in Papua but most certainly, he had God on his side.

Chris receiving hair cut from Technical Officer Sylvanus Gorio Ioma in late 1968.

Photo credit Chris Borough.

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Cartoon from Bob Brown’s Grass Roots Guide to PNG Pidgin South Pacific Post.

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Chris Borough Resource Assessment – New Britain February to April 1966 Within a month of arriving in Rabaul I was told I was to form part of the Forest Resource Assessment of New Britain. The goal was to survey the area from the South Coast of New Britain to Talasea on the North Coast. The team leader was to be Eric Hammermaster and the Draftsman Ken Granger.

The Government Trawler “MV Motuana” was already loaded with food and equipment; we departed Rabaul in the late afternoon and headed towards Kokopo. The “Motuana” had seen better days, but it was a great form of transport. Heading out to sea we encountered a heavy swell, and I began to suffer from sea sickness. Fortunately, the “Motuana” was fitted with bunks, and I was able to get relief – well at least until the cockroaches started feasting on my feet. The cockroaches won so it was a long night feeling rotten and starved of sleep.

The next morning, we stopped at Pomio. Walking up the wharf was challenging – for some reason, this solid looking wharf was moving. It took a few hours before I found my land legs.

We had the opportunity to visit a logging operation in the rainforest adjacent to Pomio. The destruction of the forest with bulldozers virtually disappeared below the land surface as they dragged logs to the sawmill. To my eyes this was extremely poor forest management. I was later told that Pomio had an annual rainfall of more than 4000 mm per annum. Interestingly Kauri Pine was growing just behind the fringing mangroves.

Back to the “Motuana” to continue our voyage to Melenglo Island where the base camp for the south coast New Britain was to be based. The Assessment required strip lines along which 32 fixed area sample plots were to be assessed, if possible. The location of the strip line was plotted on an air photo with a starting point and bearing provided by the draftsman.

Typically, the draftsman would choose a chopper pad such as a gravel bank on a river’s edge; a bush camp would be established nearby. The team of four comprised a team leader, a technical officer and two labourers. In most cases it was determined that either 2 or 3 strip lines would be established from the one bush camp. Communication between field teams and base camp was by portable HF radio.

In March 1966, having finished the initial assessment work out of Melenglo, the whole camp was moved to Amalut Plantation on the mainland adjacent to the Arawe group of Islands.

The area had been the scene of a major offensive against the Japanese in WW2.

Unlike the rivers further east, the lower parts of rivers such as the Pulie River were often surrounded by sac sac swamp. My team of four were landed at a location identified by the chopper pilot as the nominated drop-off point but in practice was surrounded by sac sac swamp. We tried pushing through the deep swamps hoping that crocodiles were not hungry that day and finally, after almost drowning my shorter companions, I opted out and we were able to be picked up the next day. Turns out we were landed on the wrong sandbank.

Back at camp I started feeling ill. After a few days Eric decided to get my wife down to care for me. Robyn (and Janet about 8 months old) was flown down from Rabaul to Kandrian on the “Milk Run”. The Milk Run, a DC3 skyliner operated by TAA, ran a return daily service between Rabaul, Tol, Kandrian, Talasea, Cape Gloucester, Finschhafen and Lae (I think that 6

Cartoon from Bob Brown’s Grass Roots Guide to PNG Pidgin South Pacific Post.

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Cape Hoskins was later used in lieu of Talasea). Robyn and Janet were picked up at Kandrian airport and then taken by chopper to the survey camp at Amalut Plantation. Robyn introduced the survey team to Poisson cru (raw fish marinated in Mooli (lime) juice and chilli) – very enjoyable with a bottle of SP! I was not improving and, after a few days, Robyn, Janet, and I were found accommodation with Bill Jamieson, his wife and two children at the Anglican Mission on the nearby island of Kumbun. Bill was a lay missionary who was diabetic but had insufficient money to purchase insulin for his condition. It was astounding to me that the Anglican Church expected Bill to undertake missionary work without meeting the funds necessary for his survival. I know the funds from the Accommodation Warrant for Robyn and I would have been very welcome.

Despite the care from my wife Robyn and the good food from the Jamiesons, I was very weak and unable to walk down to the water’s edge and back (about 10 steps). After about a week, Eric arranged for the three of us to be taken back to Kandrian on the “MV Toa” where I was placed in the hands of Hungarian doctor – Dr. Gostarlis. He diagnosed scrub typhus and put me on a diet of weak beef soup. Despite my condition I did get to the Kandrian Club one evening. The main entertainment for the few members was poker – for real money. The Catholic Priest was renowned for his poker skills and was regularly seen leaving with a pocket full of dollars. I was told that he enjoyed cognac and cigars (manufactured at the Catholic Monastery in Kokopo). To avoid booze bugs (a common affliction for beer drinkers after sunset) lights were switched off and the drinkers continue to yarn on in the darkness.

Robyn, Janet, and I flew back to Rabaul. After recovery I was sent back on the milk run DC3 to join the Resource Assessment team at Cape Gloucester where I was picked up by the “Motuana” en route to Linga Linga Plantation. By this time, I had about enough of Resource Assessment Survey and just did my job but without much enthusiasm. The most miserable day of my life was on a beautiful beach out of Linga Linga. It was only after we established camp that we realised that the sand-flies were king at this idyllic spot. After dinner, I tried unsuccessfully to sleep inside my mosquito net – the survey “bois” just made sure the fire was smoky and stayed up all night. By next morning we had all gone on strike and requested the chopper to come and collect us. Unfortunately, it was the pilot’s rest day, so we had to wait another full day and night being driven mad by sandflies. Never were four people happier to hear the noise of salvation – the Helicopter Utilities chopper.

By January 1967 Robyn and I had purchased a Volkswagen from Elliot Tuckwell and we moved to Keravat to resume a “normal” life.

Chris communicating by field radio to base at Ioma.

Photo credit Chris Borough.

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Loading chopper on river pad.

Photo credit Chris Borough.

Engineer Rod Turner servicing chopper.

Photo credit Chris Borough.

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Chris Borough Trivia8 John Grant (a forester from Scotland) was appointed to Rabaul/Keravat in 1967. He did not last 6 months due to illness.

Robyn Borough worked part-time at Keravat during Alan Fraser’s time (she worked most of 1967). She did the pays, took meteorological readings, prepared contingency claims and, during the TRP at Open Bay, typed up all the legal documents.

Robert Wills and his brother Bernard Wills (from UK) joined Keravat staff in late 66 as Technical Assistants. Bernard almost drowned whilst surfing at Reiven out of Rabaul. Chris was able to rescue him. Bernard left PNG not long after that incident.

The funniest occurrence at Keravat was when a new trainee typist was being appointed. She duly typed up the material given her. About 4 months later a huge truck full of chairs, desks, bookshelves, bush knives etc all appeared. We worked out that the trainees’ typing test had worked its way through to Government Stores and lo and behold we had a wonderful office full of all the latest gear – and it was new bush knives all around.

I will be fascinated if someone can recall the event of the fake assessment at Cape Hoskins9. Ken Granger recalled that a reassessment had to be undertaken due in part by the errors made by one of the Australian technical officers whose field books (according to Hammer) were found to be fictitious. Hoskins was not high on the list of places to be stationed!

Chris Borough10 recalled a funny experience with Dave Num. He came to our place in Gordons to go to a Ball. He was dressed in a dinner suit – black of course. Our dog “Saturday” had been regularly taunted by local squatters to the point when he became vicious to anyone black. Poor D Num was attacked when he turned up at our back door dressed in black. We had to re-home “Saturday” to a Chinese Trade Store owner who wanted a guard dog – perfect match.

Janet and Robyn at Stockholm Plantation “M V Mangana”.

Photo credit Chris Borough.

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Cartoon from Bob Brown’s Grass Roots Guide to PNG Pidgin South Pacific Post.

Chris Borough personal communication 26 April 2020 9 Ken Granger personal communication 13th August 2020 10 Chris Borough personal communication 17th May 2020 8

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Bibliography Chris Borough NAME DATE JOINED FORESTRY PNG OCCUPATION

WORK LOCALITIES

DEPARTURE PNG LIFE AFTER PNG

Chris Borough March 1960 (as Cadet Forest Officer) Graduated AFS 1966 1966 Forest Inventory PNG Forestry College – Senior Lecturer Forest Management 1971 – Went Finish to Australia.

Stationed at Rabaul, Keravat, Port Moresby, Bulolo New Britain (East and West) Vanimo Popondetta numerous other locations Nov 1971 1972 Forest Officer – Forestry & Timber Bureau Canberra 1975 Experimental Officer – CSIRO Div. Forest Research 1987 Consulting Forester - Fortech 1988 Director and Consulting Forester – Forest Science Consultancy 1996 Consulting Forester – Jaakko Poyry 2000 –Director and Consulting Forester – MBAC Consulting Pty Ltd. 2007 – Retired – maintained Forest Science Consultancy

The Forest Metriverter and Tables for Foresters.

A Chris Borough contribution to the Australasian Forest scene.

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ACRONYMS ACT ACIAR ACLMP AEC AFS AFPNG AIF AMF ANBG ANGAU ANU APMF APPM ASIO ASOPA AusAID BA BCOF “Beer Time” BFC BGD BUC C cm CALM CFA CNGT CRE CRE

CSIRO CHAH DASF DBH/ dbh DEPT DPI DOF e.g.

Etc FAO F &TB FIM FPRC FRI

Australian Capital Territory Australian Centre for International Agricultural Research AusAid funded World Bank Land Mobilisation program.

Administrators Executive Committee Australian Forestry School Association of Foresters of PNG Australian Infantry Forces Australian Military Forces Australian National Botanical Gardens Australian New Guinea Administrative Unit Australian National University Australian Paper Manufacturers Forestry Pty Ltd Australia Paper and Pulp Manufacturers Australian Security Intelligence Organisation Australian School of Pacific Administration Australian Aid Agency basal area British Commonwealth Occupational Force 1945-52 Any time.

Bulolo Forestry College Bulolo Gold Dredging Company Bulolo University College Commonwealth Centimetre Western Australian Department of Conservation and Land Management Commonwealth Forestry Association Commonwealth New Guinea Timbers Bulolo Commander Royal Engineers CRE is a term inherited by RAE from RE and is the term for the Commanding Officer of a RAE unit which is headed by a Lt Col. Although the officer is called the CRE the name is also used for the name of his unit.

E.g., CRE Aust Forestry Group or 1(NG Forests).

Commonwealth Scientific and Industrial Research Organisation Council of Heads of Australasian Herbaria Dept of Agriculture, Stock and Fisheries Diameter at breast height Department Department of Primary Industry Department of Forests For example et cetera (more of the same) Food and Agriculture Organisation Forest and Timber Bureau Canberra Forest Information System Forest Products Research Centre Hohola Forest Research Institute Lae 19

Forkol GAB Gbhob Gubab GIS ha IBRD IFA ITTO JICA L of N LRRS m3 MM NAA NARI NB NFCAP no.

NG NGF NGIB NGO NGVR NZ NSW NTSC OISCA P or p PIB PIR PNG PNGAA PNGAF PNGFA PNGFIA PNGRIS PNGUT POM Q QF RAE RPC RRA SFM SP UK UN Unasylva

Bulolo Forestry College Girth above buttress Girth breast height over bark Girth under bark above buttress Geographic Information Systems Hectare International Bank for Reconstruction and Development Institute of Foresters of Australia International Tropical Timber Organization Japanese International Cooperation Agency League of Nations Land Resource Soils Survey (branch of CSIRO) cubic metre Military Medal National Archives Australia National Agriculture Research Institute New Britain PNG National Forestry and Conservation Action Plan Number New Guinea New Guinea Forces (relates to plant collection of Lae Herbarium) New Guinea Infantry Battalion Non-Government Organisation New Guinea Volunteer Rifles New Zealand New South Wales National Tree Seed Centre PNG Bulolo Organisation for Industrial, Spiritual and Cultural Advancement International Japan. page Papuan Infantry Battalion Pacific Islands Regiment Papua New Guinea Papua New Guinea Australia Association Papua New Guinea Australian Foresters Magazine Series Papua New Guinea Forest Authority PNG Forest Industries Association Papua New Guinea Resource Information System PNG University of Technology Port Moresby Queensland Queensland Forestry Royal Australian Engineers/Australian Army Royal Papuan Constabulary Rapid Resource Appraisal Sustainable Forest Management South Pacific United Kingdom United Nations Journal of FAO of UN 20

UNE UNEP UNI UNITECH UNRE UPNG UQ US USA TPNG TUBL TA TA TRP Vol VSF WA WB WW2

University of New England Armidale NSW United Nations Environment Program University University of Technology Lae PNG University of Natural Resources and Environment University of Papua New Guinea University of Queensland United States United States of America Territory of Papua and New Guinea Territory United Brewery Ltd Timber Area Timber Authority Timber Rights Purchase volume Victorian School of Forestry Western Australia World Bank WORLD WAR 2

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