Papua New Guinea is like nowhere I have ever been. The people are so poor by Australian measures, yet so happy, content, polite and welcoming.
Weathered bare feet with soles like those on a seasoned pair of Blundstone work boots are everywhere, along with hand me down style clothes and a life expectancy far below what we are lucky enough to take comfort in.
Children barely old enough to be of reading age, captain hand carved timber canoes and lead every day fishing expeditions to provide food for their families. They have the cheekiest little smiles, laughing, and curious through bright white eyes.
Wild pigs, deer, crocodiles and large water birds that I have never seen before, all make up the scenery just a few hundred metres from the small indigenous camps. One huge croc we saw in day one of the trip had a belly like a 44 gallon drum.
My offsider, David Easman, waved to a group of ten or so young kids, when we dropped into their camp so our guide could borrow a machete to make an anchor pole.
The kids waved back, copying his every move in a "wax on - wax off" like motion. Them, and us, in hysterics as we moved on down river to fish for Barramundi.
The fishing is nothing short of amazing when the vast flood plains covering thousands of acres begin to run off and empty out, flowing down stream towards the sea located around 100 kilometres from where we fished.
Huge numbers of Barramundi gather at the drain mouths, ambushing their prey such as Snake Heads and Catfish. The 'boof' under the schools of fish is often heard from hundreds of metres away, with their aggressive feeding style even herding fish up onto the banks as they flee the hungry apex predators.
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