Exploration And Production Adventures With Tony Morley – Drilling In The Jungles Of PNG

I’ve just landed and stepped down onto the baking heat of the black tarmac at Jackson International Airport here in PNG. This country is the site of a new resource battleground, where western exploration comes head-to-head with traditional villagers, and the middle ground is a work in progress. The country sits atop some of the most favorable

geology in the world, rich in mineral and hydrocarbon resources alike. It’s the geology of the “ring of fire” that has lifted the oil and gas from the sea bed and fractured the ground, allowing minerals to travel upward over millions of years. It’s this very blessing locked deep within the rock below that brings in explorers from around the world. This area of the world has always been in a state of conflict at its worst and generally difficult at best. Oil and gas developers have had an uphill battle on their hands; some have had success, and others have suffered greatly.

An American company based in Denver, Behre Dolbear, has completed and released its findings for the annual ranking of countries and the associated risks involved with exploration, and resources operations and investment. Countries ranking in the most favourable positions were Australia, Canada, Chile, and Brazil. Behre Dolbear made its pronouncements by taking into account such criteria as the country’s economic system, level of social difficulties, bureaucratic inefficiencies, corruption, and general stability among other considerations.

PNG was found to be one of the most challenging countries in the world for resource exploration and production, bested in difficulty by only a handful of countries, including Kazakhstan and the Congo. Consistent concerns with the political situation, corruption, and the difficulty of operations in remote regions with an often divided tribal history have historically made dealings in the country an uphill endeavour.

I head in off the tarmac to transfer onto a turbo prop and head deep into the Southern Highlands and the country’s oil heartland. Landing in Moro brings to mind airstrips of the  imalayan foothills, and there is certainly no doubt that I’ve gained a great deal of altitude. The Moro air base is two tons of grain in a one-ton bag. It’s astonishing just how busy this small air strip is—a fleet of twin otters sit at the ready, and the runways and control tower are busy with fixed wind and helicopter air traffic.

It’s raining in Moro; in fact, it’s always raining in Moro. I’ve never landed and not stepped out of the aircraft and into a semi-apocalyptic rainstorm, and today is certainly no exception.
I make the mad dash to the office and book into a room; I’m looking forward to a hot dinner and some rest.

The base sports multiple large camps and is the primary logistics center and jumping-off point from resource exploration in the highlands. The kitchen is packed with expats and
nationals alike, and everyone is spoiled for choice regardless of taste, from a rare steak to a vegetarian pasta to real ice cream; your chances of going hungry are nil.

The next morning I catch my helicopter deep into the highlands and spend an hour flying over pristine jungles; the occasional well site or service plant are the only clues to the vast wealth under the area’s countless anticlines. I land, and I’m greeted by my security escort near the remote Tari airstrip.

Security concerns are an every present part of operating in PNG, and you never really get used to having a military escort or driving in a four-wheel drive, filled with armed guards
sporting automatic weapons.

At times, you can actually feel the tension in the air; it’s like static, an ominous cloud, often followed by actual dark clouds. It’s nights like this that I’ve got my jump kit packed and am ready to head off into the jungle at the sound of gunfire. I keep my passport, GPS, head lamp,  knife, rain gear, and money packed into my jump kit. Think of it as remote exploration life insurance.

However, exploration in the Pacific is not always doom and gloom. Cutting through the clouds in a new helicopter with the windows open to let in a fresh breeze is always a personal favorite pastime.

It’s exactly this that I find myself doing as I lift off from the Moro airbase and head deep into the misted jungles to view some of the most interesting and remote oil fields in the world. One of the defining characteristics of oil exploration in PNG is the seemingly missing presence of infrastructure. Small well pads viewed from the helicopter are sometimes your only glimpse of the treasures locked deep below the limestone cap rock. Our aircraft picks a line of sight through the fog and lands safely at one of the new well sites, a step-out wildcat, perched atop a peak surrounded by cliffs of shocking and breathtaking magnitude. Water cascades over the edge and disappears into the valley a thousand feet below.

The logistical challenges and financial commitments required to operate in this environment are almost overwhelming. The rewards, however, are great enough to give birth to a new industry committed to helping meet our ever-growing demand for energy. Today,  the weather is stunning, clear sky above the derrick, and below, a sea of endless clouds. The wildlife is more at home among the equipment than anywhere I’ve ever been; it’s as if nature was trying to embrace the well site and drag it back into the jungle. Vines cling to the fences and lights on the edge of the lease. Birds perch on the guy lines coming down from the derrick, and hundreds of giant beetles, sporting their tremendous jaws, take advantage of the night lighting, catching insects as they cluster around the lights. However, this is nothing compared to having an Atlas moth land on your back and then taking a photograph of it fanning its wings in the palm of your hand.

I’m one of a minority of exploration consultants who never look forward to leaving, and it’s this feeling that overwhelms me as I board my chopper for the hour flight back to the airbase. I’m looking forward to my next opportunity to dive into the jungles of the ring of fire to better explore their geological treasures. Stay tuned, our next adventures take us into one of the coldest driest and most difficult terrains on earth—the Canadian Arctic.