After meeting with the locals, we spent a night there before continuing downstream, visiting villages along the river and engaging with their residents.

It was an exhausting undertaking, with the goal of covering over 20 villages in just a week.

Despite the physical demands of the trip, the visits to the villages proved to be fruitful.

We received overwhelming support from the people, who passionately expressed their concerns about the potential impact of mining on their beloved river.

As the sun set each day, we found refuge in the homes of the hospitable Ambunti villagers, who generously shared their meals with us.

While the trip was not without its challenges, such as the ever-present swarms of mosquitoes, I managed to stay healthy despite battling thousands of them.

It almost felt like I had become a master at warding them off, using karate-like movements to chase them away.

It was during these trips that I also discovered the locals drinking directly from the main Sepik River, prompting me to do the same.

Among the many memorable experiences on our patrol, the one that stood out most occurred in Swagap.

On the third day of our journey, we arrived in Swagap around 4 pm amidst heavy rainfall.

Swagap was located about a kilometre from the river, connected by a narrow water passage leading to a lake and eventually to the village itself.

Instead of venturing into the village immediately, we stopped on the riverbank opposite the passage at a depot owned by a local businessman who traded in fuel and food supplies for Ambunti.

While taking shelter at the depot and waiting for the rain to subside, we prepared dinner and huddled around the fire for warmth, joined by other travellers on the river.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, our boat skipper made the first trip into the village, accompanied by the female members of our team and our cargoes.

When it was time to retrieve our male team members, one of our comrades decided to take over the role of the motor skipper for the final trip.

The original skipper was understandably exhausted from handling the motor throughout the day.

With darkness enveloping the Sepik River and heavy rain pouring down on us once again, we all climbed aboard the motor canoe, soaked to the bone.

I busied myself with bailing out water from the canoe using a container, while we relied on torchlight to navigate through the darkness.

After crossing the river, we struggled to locate the passage that would lead us to Swagap. Despite several attempts, we couldn't find the correct route.

Feeling increasingly uneasy, I questioned the team member who had taken over as skipper about our current course. He appeared unsure but continued onward.

Deep down, I sensed that something was amiss and requested that the skipper stop the canoe and turn back.

Although it sparked some debate and hesitation, the skipper eventually agreed, and we faced the arduous task of turning a 20-foot motor canoe in the narrow passage, which took an additional hour.

Exhausted, hungry, and drenched by the relentless rain, we fervently hoped for deliverance.

After numerous failed attempts, we managed to complete the maneuver and ventured back into the main Sepik River.

It took us about 20 minutes to find the correct passage into the village After scouring the banks of the river with our torchlights, we finally spotted the right passage.

Relief washed over us as we cautiously navigated through it. Minutes later, we emerged into a vast lake, greeted by the flickering lights of Swagap village on the opposite shore. Our hearts settled, and the panic and fear dissipated.

As we safely reached the village, our skipper received a stern scolding from our senior team members.

Feeling sorry for him, we took a moment to apologise for the ordeal he had endured. Our female team members, who had been waiting in the village, expressed their concern and relief upon our arrival.

Gathering around the fire onshore, we recounted the tale of our wrong turn and shared laughter.

An elder from the village, drawn by the commotion, joined us and upon hearing our story, emphasised how fortunate we were to have turned the canoe around in time.

He shared a chilling account of the notorious crocodiles that inhabited Swagap, known for using their powerful tails to capsize canoes and drag people into the treacherous lakes.

I felt a surge of gratitude that I had recognised our mistake, potentially averting a tragedy among our team members.

That night, as I lay down to sleep, my mind replayed the events of our misadventure and contemplated the importance of protecting the crocodiles and the entire ecosystem of the Sepik River from the impending threat of the Frieda Mine.

The experiences and stories we gathered along our journey served as reminders of the profound connection between the river and the lives it sustained.

With renewed determination, I fell asleep, carrying the resolve to continue our fight against the mine's pollution and safeguard the Sepik River for generations to come.