Rabaul town grinds on despite eruptions

Samisoni Pareti

October 2009 Issue

One look at an aerial photo of Rabaul town and it is easy to understand straight away why it was once the Pearl of the South Seas.
Well-planned suburbs with winding boulevards, a deep, natural harbour in its frontage and barricaded from the back by a mountain range, it would have been hard for anyone not to fall in love with Rabaul.
Important facilities were within easy reach—the Rabaul wharf at the waterfront and Rabaul Airport, a mere 10-minute drive from the town centre.
Hamamas Hotel was a favourite watering hole for visiting sailors and nearby plantation owners. It is still there but renamed as Rabaul Hotel.
At its zenith, Rabaul was home to 10,000 expatriates. All that changed on September 19, 1994.
Mount Tavurvur, towering over the other side of the bay where Rabaul Airport was erupted that day and spewed ash, rock and fire.
Most of the town’s buildings collapsed from the sheer weight of the dust and hundreds of homes were buried in the eruption.
Fifteen years later, Rabaul is still a sorry sight.
Half of the town to the old airport end lies deserted still.
Tonnes of volcanic ash litter the road and sidewalk. Skeletons of buildings lay in ruin, disturbed only at times by a cloud of dust whipped up by a passing breeze.
Vehicle tyres leave their mark on the mounting volcanic dust, providing an eerie resemblance of a moon landscape.
Gates to the New Guinea Club—once a white only building—remained to this date.
Beside it and covered with a thick layer of dust is the World War Two bunker of General Yamamoto of the Japanese Imperial Army.
This was the same general who planned the bombing of Pearl Harbor in Hawaii.
As you travel from this end of the town to the other, the scenery is unchanged but the town begins to come alive.
The day I was there, the sun was out. But the constant spewing of the ash from the volcano created a deep haze.
Resilience: As I wind down the glass window to take photos, ash fell on my hair and hands.
Even as my tour guides David and Sylvestor made a stop to buy lunch, ash began to fall like raindrops on the windscreen of our car.
The town’s market was full of people and vehicles filled up the main street. Vehicle windows were mostly up.
For those walking on the pavements, they had their heads covered with an umbrella or a piece of cloth.
The haze, the dust and sight could be stifling. But Rabaul town grinds on, many a visitor impressed with the resilience of the town and its people.
Tavurvur in 1994 might have taken away the glister of what was once the Pearl of the South Seas, but for the people of Rabaul, they have not let it take away their resolve to live and  make a life from what they still have.