Waterfront doors opening for me 

GOD had given Duabo, a mountain retreat on Pini Range to Kwato Mission, an offshoot of the London Missionary Society, over a hundred years ago.
The mission through mismanagement and misappropriation of cash earned from its own established coconut estates, went down on its knees, hit the gutter, and died out.
My mother in her younger life had the pleasure of experiencing Duabo’s former glory and natural beauty of 360 degree fantastic sweeping views taking in almost most of Milne Bay, the Cloudy Mountains, Buhutu Valley to the west.
My mother loved Duabo so much she had us boys under her wings then at Kwato twice in 1957 travel by the mission boat the Labini (Suau: peace) to Bisimaka (from Bismarck) then walked down the coast and then climbed to the neglected retreat for our term holidays.
At age 14, I discovered that cutting down trees was something I enjoyed most but only when my shanghai (rubber gun) was damaged. Without her permission, I stole mother’s bush knife and sneaked into the jungle and started cutting down trees.
Timberrrr!! Great fun. Where I stood hewing my sixth tree the ground sloped down to more dense foliage and giant towering trees where the tatakea sat learning to talk: cocky kaikai, cocky kai kai.
My seventh tree, called in native Tawala ohiyou, came crassshing down and I slipped and fell back, landing on my bum, and with my legs stretched wide apart. The ohiyou kind of fell towards me and replanted itself between my thighs. Sooo close!
I was in terrible shock. I trembled with fear. I sweated profusely.  Quickly I found the elepa (bush knife) under leaves, vines, orchids, spiders and crawling red ants and climbed up the jungle track to the safety of home and mother.
“Are you sick?” Me: “No, mother.”
Where I sit typing this feature now at North Wagawaga my mum’s grave is visible through the push-out window. I had never ever told her about this near-death experience but she was told via the close-knit family grapevine by a traitorous sibling!
My second near-death episode occurred 68 years later in 1982. I was then in bed reading My Wicked, Wicked Ways, the autobiography of former and very late Hollywood swashbuckling movie star , Errol Flyn – an Aussie from Hobart, Tasmania.
All of a sudden I dropped the book. I felt hot and weird. I started to panic. I then closed my eyes and I saw black-and-white reels of old Kwato Mission scenes like you did before the “talkies” supporting movie started back then in the 1950s. Then my whole sleeping body rose and entered a sparkling brown tunnel. It was ribbed. And my body continued travelling to the end of the tunnel.  It stopped but still “floating or hovering” at the threshold of an opened door.
The view only showed nothing else but a soft blue calming light.  I was drenched in it. A cool gentle breeze like the bauli was blowing through my entire body. And I could feel my worldly problems and health issues literally falling off my body.
Ecstasy so divine.  Bliss.
I opened my eyes.  Blinked. I rubbed eyes. Wow, was I at the threshold of the door to heaven?
My next-door neighbor then at 17-Mile, Sogeri Road, Central, drove me into Port Moresby and my GP gave me medical tests. Verdict: Normal. Blood tests were all normal.
Back to the present at the Alotau Waterfront Lodge Restaurant I lost all chances of getting home one Friday night.  My bubu (grandchild) Meriba-May Igara upon hearing about my predicament came to my rescue, dangling a key in a ring. It’s to Room 2 —wow from a village hut to the lap of luxury in five star lane!
It was, as the explanation went, a complimentary gesture on the part of the lodge recognising my frequent restaurant guest status! Eawedo matemate Meriba-May.
A couple of days earlier, using forethought, I began organising my trip south to Australia for my forthcoming very belated prostate cancer PSA blood test review. I emailed my long time Cairns mates Connie and Carmella, owners of Accommodation On Sheridan, asking for latest room rates.
And I without hesitation copied my Cairns cancer carer one Steven Garner. Within five minutes before Connie and Carmello could reply, Steven responded: “There’s this empty room here. I can arrange a spare key cut to the unit. Mum and dad say it would be great.”
I whooped a whoopee! My God is opening more doors for me. Haleluya!