The old engine groaned as the small ship turned north, just off the coast of the mainland of Papua New Guinea. We were mostly covered from the temporate nightly showers, as we gazed out over the sea. Natives gathered around as an old sailor told me about the giant flying dragon that his people call “wawanar.” Around Pilio Island, natives say that Wawanar “owns the land and the sea.”
“You try catch Wawanar?” The old man asked, smiling.
“No, I want to take photo.” I replied.
The sailor’s face showed doubt about me, not about the wawanar, but there was not much else to say, so most of the natives returned to their giant bed, a huge dirty tarp that lay over the cargo area of the ship. We were still hours away from Siasi, also known as “Umboi Island,” the home of the glowing ropen.
Who decides when a foreign word is translated into the English “dragon?” As my bodyguard-interpreter (Luke Paina) and I listened to the old sailor, no interpretation was needed, for he spoke a little English. But the English “dragon” comes to mind when a creature (legendary or not) is described as large, with wings and a long tail, and without feathers. Dragons, in various parts of the world, may be actual living creatures, modern living pterosaurs, in spite of Western indoctrination into universal extinctions of all of their species.
In Papua New Guinea, some of the words, among many languages, for the giant nocturnal flying creature is “kor,” “seklo-bali,” “indava,” “duwas,” “wawanar,” and “ropen.” Of course there may be more than one species, but the flying dragon of the night is not the giant fruit bat we call “flying fox.” The flying dragon of Papua New Guinea is often described as glowing, for the flying light is often all that is seen. But when it is seen clearly, up close, it has a long tail and no sign of feathers.
See also Marfa Lights of southwest Texas
