Alotau

The shores of Milne Bay and the islands beyond have been settled for thousands of years by Austronesian-speaking seafaring peoples whose canoes carried shell valuables, pigs, pots and yams between communities. In the islands east and north of the bay those voyages formed the kula ring, the ceremonial exchange of armshells and necklaces studied in the Trobriand Islands by the anthropologist Bronisław Malinowski during the First World War. Missionaries arrived in the second half of the 19th century, and the colonial administration of British New Guinea, and then Australian Papua, ran the area from Samarai, a small island port at the tip of the mainland.

Alotau itself is a modern town. In 1942 the bay became the site of one of the turning points of the Pacific war: Japanese troops landed near Ahioma at the end of August and were defeated over the following two weeks by Australian forces defending the newly built airstrips, with American engineers and anti-aircraft units in support, with the fighting ending on 7 September. It is often described as the first major battle of the Pacific war in which Allied troops decisively defeated Japanese land forces. Samarai's town had been destroyed on colonial orders for fear of Japanese occupation, and the port never recovered its former importance.

After the war the administration looked for a mainland site on the bay with room to grow, and in 1969 the headquarters were shifted from Samarai to Alotau, which grew steadily as the seat of government for Milne Bay Province, the more so after Papua New Guinea's independence in 1975. It remains a small town whose importance comes from the offices, wharf and airport that serve a province of scattered islands.

Milne Bay is one of the most maritime provinces in Papua New Guinea, and Alotau is where its many communities meet. The province has dozens of languages and a strong canoe culture: sailing canoes with crab-claw sails, long racing canoes paddled by village crews, and the kundu, the hourglass hand drum that gives the town's November festival half its name. The Kenu and Kundu Festival, held on the waterfront in November, has become one of the better-known cultural gatherings in the country.

Much of the province is matrilineal, with land and standing passing through women, which distinguishes it sharply from the Highlands. Yams remain a measure of wealth and a matter of pride in the islands, harvest seasons are marked with feasting and dancing, and the Trobriand Islands are known for their yams, their carving and their own boisterous version of cricket introduced by missionaries and remade with local rules. Christianity, Anglican and Catholic above all, is woven through daily life, and church choirs are a serious local art.

Manners in town are gentle and slow-moving. People greet one another before getting to the point, betel nut is shared, and news travels through family and church networks. Visitors are treated with curiosity and courtesy, and are expected to return it by asking before photographing, walking onto a beach or swimming off a village reef, all of which belong to someone.

Alotau is a small town, and the market, the wharf and the provincial offices set the rhythm of the day. Government administration, schools, the hospital, shipping, trade stores and the tourism and diving businesses provide most of the paid work. Beyond the town, families live from gardens, fishing, copra, cocoa and betel nut, with oil palm on some of the larger holdings, and cash comes from selling produce at the market or on the wharf.

Mornings are the busiest part of the day. Dinghies come in from the islands with fish and garden food, trucks arrive from the villages along the coast roads, and the market fills before the heat does. The afternoons are quieter, and by evening the streets are largely empty. Electricity and water supply are better than in much of the country but not reliable, and internet and phone coverage can be slow.

The province's difficulties are those of a scattered island population: getting patients, teachers, fuel and cargo to places reachable only by small boat, the cost of that transport, and the vulnerability of low islands and coastal villages to storms, king tides and rising seas. Young people leave for Port Moresby and Lae for work and study, and many come back.

Milne Bay eats from the reef and the garden. Reef fish, trevally and tuna, octopus, crab and shellfish are grilled, boiled or cooked in coconut cream, and served with yam, taro, cassava, sago or boiled bananas. Greens such as aibika and pumpkin tips are simmered with coconut milk. Yams carry particular weight here, above all in the Trobriand Islands to the north, and a good harvest is displayed before it is eaten.

Celebration food comes out of the mumu, the earth oven in which pork, chicken, root vegetables and greens steam for hours under hot stones and banana leaves. Coconut is in almost everything, from the cream squeezed for fish stews to the young nut drunk as a cold drink. Sago, pounded and washed from palm pith, is eaten as a paste or as flat cakes, more often in the mainland villages than in town.

Town food is plainer: rice with tinned fish, instant noodles, fried chicken, lamb flaps and scones from a trade store. The market sells the good things, including seasonal mangoes, pineapples, pawpaw and galip nuts. Betel nut with mustard stick and lime is chewed everywhere, Papua New Guinean lager is the common drink, and Highlands coffee turns up in the hotel dining rooms along the bay.