A sanctuary among the mangroves – Nuli Sapi Retreat

COVER STORY

By ANETTE SETE
I HEARD, I came, I saw, and I experienced Magical Milne Bay.
Imagine getting away for a couple of days from normal activities for some peace, and quiet time to think, write, read or sleep and relax.
Nuli Sapi Retreat, on Logea Island, in Milne Bay is the place.
Logea Island is one of Milne Bay’s 160 named islands, and Lonely Planet nominated Nuli Sapi as one of the world’s top 10 eco-stays in 2014.
It is secluded from the sea traffic of Samarai Island, private, nested in amongst the mangroves and is sheltered from the open sea.
Nuli Sapi is an hour and half boat ride from Alotau. And about 15 minutes across from Samarai.
I counted four huts on tall posts over the water with a connecting boardwalk as the hired dinghy approached land.
The place looked deserted but peaceful.
It was low tide and the look-out guy in the front of the boat guided our skipper to shore.
As usual, I was already working the phone camera before our host came out to meet us.

He followed my eyes as I took in the scenery. Bits of trash lie scattered about: rice bags, coke bottles, biscuit packets, all brought in by the tides.
“Yes we get a lot of these rubbish from across there,” he indicated towards Samarai.
“Sometimes people throw their rubbish over board and think it’ll disappear into the sea but it ends up here in the mangroves,” he said extending his hand to shake mine.
Mwado invited me onto the boardwalk.
Those huts I passed on the way in, were the bungalows.
The rooms contain a master bed and a modern flush toilet and tiled shower room.
The wastewater and sewage are piped into a concrete septic tank also built and raised off the water.
He told of their waste management on the island and the weekly beachfront clean up.

Mwado owns and runs this dream place, the work of his hands and the fruit of his blood, sweat and tears.
The bungalows were made with bush material; mangroves, sago and bamboos.
As luck would have it, an accidental meeting turned into be a business arrangement that saw the birth of Nuli Sapi over a decade ago.
Mwado manages the retreat whilst his business partner markets Nuli Sapi in Australia.
Like any other tourism business, Coronavirus (Covid-19) meant a zero income for 24 months but it gave him time to build an additional deck, and a conference room.
As I took more pictures and getting excited about the place, I flirt with the idea of a photo shoot on the boardwalk with some Lavagirl pieces: kaftans, sarongs, a swim wear line.
Mwado’s wife Rose came out with a colourful tray of fruits for us. Ice cold kulau have never tasted better especially for my entourage and I on an island hopping mission on a hot sunny day.
I wondered out loud about power on the island as my phone battery hit low. Mwado took it and disappeared into the kitchen. They use solar energy to power the hide out but there is a standby genset if bad weather persists.

The deck was new and so inviting. We sat around listening to Mwado shared on his journey with Nuli Sapi. His sigh must never be mistaken for tiredness but accomplishment and relief. For him, the saying “dreams do come true” wasn’t just a cliché.
A cool breeze wafted a faint trace of rotten-egg smell as expected in mangroves areas. I sniffed the air for the smell wasn’t that obvious.

See, when mangroves drop their seeds, bacteria in the mangrove soil or mud helps to breakdown the organic matter. This decaying process produces a sulphur reaction that creates sulphide gas that’s responsible for the rotten-egg smell.
Mwado and his wife packed extra fruits for us.
My phone was fully charged. It was time to move on. As we pulled out, we could hear music coming from the deck. He has cracked up his music box. I was told this was the place to listen to Samarai’s best.
They have been the perfect host and Nuli Sapi Retreat a perfect hideout.
There’s a lot to see and do; the white sandy beaches, village based conservation projects to volunteer for, a rich culture to share in, a whole history to learn and legends to hear.
See you cannot come to one of the largest maritime provinces of PNG and not do the island hopping.
As my boat approached the township of Alotau and the islands became a distant silhouette against the dark sky, I concluded that Milne Bay has some of PNG’s best beaches.