Beware The Sorceress Of The Sepik

They twirled and gyrated like demented dervishes, their tattered grass skirts flailing to the throbbing beat of the coarse wood and skin drums beaten methodically by apparently captive men at the centre of their circle. Barely concealed by shreds of river grass and rough shell necklaces, their long-exhausted, pendulous breasts swung in full rotations as they yelped and threw their arms ecstatically in the air. Was it some macabre celebration or perhaps a sacrificial ritual? We had no idea, but like dumbstruck voyeurs, we stood riveted as the rowdy spectacle unfolded.

We were treated to an obligatory 'sing-sing' at almost every village. Each portrayed the unique local cultures and rites significant to the respective region through a choreographed performance of dance, music and costume. Some were more easily interpreted, like the muscular, well-oiled men who paddled invisible canoes, chanting musically with each empty oarstroke. Or when delicately adorned maidens sang sweetly of harvesting yams and taro. But this display, deep in the seldom-visited backwaters of the mighty Sepik River spoke of darker, more sinister things.

Papua New Guinea's Sepik River is one of world's great waterways. Although the straight-line distance from source to mouth is barely 500 kilometres, its wide channel twists and turns in a convoluted course that, if stretched out, would cover over 1100.

Europeans were first introduced to the mystical wonders of the Sepik when German colonialist Dr. Otto Finsch brought back tales of crocodiles, wild tribes and unfathomable ceremonies after a 50 kilometre journey upstream in 1885.