When Gideon Koro and his boyhood friends hiked up to the crater lake Pung, on Umboi Island, Papua New Guinea, around 1994, he knew nothing about the 1971 sighting by the Australian Brian Hennessy, hundreds of miles to the east. He had heard the traditions of the ropen but he and his friends were unprepared for the shock of seeing one in daylight. They were sorely shocked at the giant long-tailed creature that flew over the lake that day; all the boys ran home. Ten years later (2004), he told about his encounter to an American cryptozoologist.
When Hennessy was driving on a ridge on Bougainville Island, he knew nothing about the 1944 sighting by the American Duane Hodgkinson, hundreds of miles to the west. He knew Western traditions about pterosaur extinction and was shocked at the large, apparently featherless pre-historic-looking long-tailed creature that flew over the ridge that day. Thirty-five years later (2006), he told about his encounter to an American cryptozoologist.
When Duane Hodgkinson and his army buddy were staring at large tropical ants at the edge of a clearing just west of Finschhafen, New Guinea, during World War II, he knew Western traditions about pterosaur extinction. He was shocked at the large, apparently featherless pre-historic-looking long-tailed creature that took off from the far side of the clearing and flew up into the air. Sixty years later (2004), he told about his encounter to an American cryptozoologist.
Hodgkinson deserves credit for telling the right American investigators about his encounter, for books have now been published on living pterosaurs. Other eyewitnesses have been found and interviewed because he was willing to lead the way, openly telling us about his experience. His courage is displayed not so much in standing his ground one hundred feet from a giant living fossil but in standing his ground facing potential ridicule from the American public. Thank you, Duane.