Drinking Traditions of Papua New Guinea: 5 Local Beverages That Tell a Story

Papua New Guinea’s drinking traditions are shaped by tropical geography—mangrove estuaries, coconut-fringed coasts, and vast lowland river plains. Before commercial beer arrived, people fermented palm saps for low-alcohol “country wines.”

Today, these practices persist alongside informal homebrews in villages and settlements. What and when people drink reflects climate and crops: coconut on the islands, sago and nipa palms in delta country, and sugar-based ferments near towns and markets.

Along East New Britain’s Gazelle Peninsula, especially around Rabaul and Kokopo, coconut palm sap is tapped to make toddy, locally often called tuba. The drink begins as sweet, translucent sap from the coconut inflorescence; spontaneous yeasts quickly ferment it into a lightly effervescent country wine. Fresh tuba is mildly sweet with a faint coconut aroma, turning drier and more tangy after several hours. Alcohol strength typically ranges from 2% to 6% ABV depending on how long it ferments and the day’s temperature.

Production is simple but skilled: tappers bind and bruise the flower stalk, collect dripping sap into clean containers, and may use plant-derived antiseptics or smoke to control souring. In this humid coastal climate, fermentation is rapid, so tuba is brewed and consumed daily—often in the late afternoon at village gatherings, coastal markets, and community events. Historically, coconut toddy served as a social lubricant during work parties and customary exchanges in Tolai communities. You’ll still find it shared informally around the Gazelle villages and on nearby islands, where coconut is central to diet, cash-cropping, and drink.

In swampy lowlands fed by the Sepik, Fly, and Purari rivers, the sago palm (Metroxylon sagu) is staple food—and a source of traditional alcohol. Households tap the flowering stalk or a felled trunk to collect sweet sap that ferments naturally within hours. The result is a cloudy, gently fizzy drink with grassy aromas, a lactic twang, and soft banana or jackfruit notes. Typical strength is 2% to 5% ABV when fresh; left longer, it becomes more sour and vinegary.

Sago palm wine aligns with the region’s hydrology and subsistence cycles. Tapping often follows sago processing days, when families are already working the tree for starch. The wine is shared in riverbank hamlets and trading stops from Wewak’s hinterland to Kerema’s Gulf villages, usually drunk the same day to catch its bright, lightly sweet profile. It is a communal beverage—passed around calabashes or cups during evening storytelling, canoe arrivals, and small celebratory meals. Because sago forests thrive in waterlogged soils, this drink is most common in the floodplain and delta environments that define northern and southern PNG lowlands.

Where mangrove estuaries dominate—especially along the Gulf of Papua—locals tap the nipa palm (Nypa fruticans) to produce a distinct toddy. The flower stalk is cut and conditioned; sap drips into containers and begins wild fermentation almost immediately. Fresh nipa sap is honeyed and silky; within hours it turns lightly sparkling, with aromas of palm sugar and green fruit. Most batches sit between 2% and 5% ABV, though warmer days can push fermentation faster.

Nipa thrives in brackish backwaters inaccessible to coconut groves, making it the practical palm-wine source for many shoreline hamlets. Families may boil a portion of sap into syrup for cooking and allow the rest to ferment for drinking. The toddy is commonly sipped at dusk after fishing or mangrove gleaning, and served at small feasts linked to boat-building or net-mending milestones. Around Kerema and scattered villages west toward the Fly delta, you’ll encounter nipa toddy in reused bottles at informal stalls—best consumed the day it’s made for a clean, lightly tart finish that pairs with smoked fish and sago cakes.

Urban growth and cash economies brought another local drink: unregulated sugar ferments widely nicknamed jungle juice. Basic ingredients are inexpensive—white sugar or molasses, water, baker’s yeast, and sometimes mashed pineapple or banana for flavor and nutrients. Fermentation takes a few days in plastic containers or buckets, yielding a cloudy, fruit-scented beverage typically around 8% to 14% ABV. Taste ranges from candied and tropical to sharp and solventy depending on sanitation, temperature, and how long it’s left to sit.

While not pre-contact “traditional,” jungle juice is now embedded in the drinking landscape from Port Moresby settlements to Lae and Madang. It’s consumed at informal gatherings, pay-week parties, or community sports days when commercial beer is scarce or costly. The production method adapts to PNG’s warm climate, which speeds fermentation but can also stress yeast and produce harsh fusel notes. Because it’s unlicensed and made outside health regulations, quality varies widely; locals often chill or dilute it to soften edges. As a social phenomenon, it reflects contemporary PNG—resourceful, improvised, and tied to the realities of access and price.

Steam bilong PNG is the colloquial name for home-distilled spirits produced from fermented sugar mashes—often the same jungle juice run through improvised stills. Makers repurpose cookware, metal drums, or coils to condense vapor, targeting a clear spirit that can exceed 25% to 50% ABV, sometimes more. Properly cut distillations can smell mildly fruity; poorly controlled runs carry sharp solvent aromas and heavy fusel oils. The result is powerful, hot on the palate, and commonly mixed with soft drinks or flavored with pineapple to mask roughness.

Steam is a modern offshoot rather than an ancestral drink, but it is widely encountered across towns and road-linked highland settlements. Production is typically clandestine due to licensing laws and safety concerns. You’ll hear about steam at settlement corner stores, markets on the fringes of Port Moresby and Lae, and in coastal hubs like Madang and Alotau. It’s consumed in the evenings and on weekends, especially around pay days. Risks are real—from contamination to excessive strength—so locals often rely on trusted producers. As with many moonshines worldwide, steam speaks to ingenuity and the demand for affordable, potent alcohol in a tropical climate.