Tropicalities

SCENE: Lounge of s.s. Montoro.

November, 1936.

Wide-eyed young thing from Mel bourne, who has completed round trip to New Guinea and Papua: “Oh, Captain, you do have a wonderful life! How you must love it—sailing around in this dear old ship in those beautiful tropical seas!”

Captain “Sandy” Campbell (who is finishing a voyage which included a fire among cargo; sundry clawings among New Guinea’s half-charted coral growths; a “scrape” on the Barrier Reef when try ing to find the passage to Cairns in a dead calm; a miraculous escape from being blown ashore in a southerly buster in the Brisbane River; and a little dirty weather off Byron Bay): Iphm! (Which is the only way in which a lowly Sassenach can spell a Scottish snarl.) —R.W.R. ♦ ♦ ♦ A MONG those who were presented to the Crown Prince of Tonga at the Polynesian Club’s reception in December was Madame Yvonne Despres, writer and traveller, and examiner in her native language. One of her first questions to Prince Taufa’ahau was whether he was acquainted with French. “Oh, some what,” replied the Prince. “I have just been sitting for my entrance examination to the University.” It was subsequently discovered that the Prince’s French paper was one of those corrected by Madame Despres! The future King of Tonga is determined, not only to become thoroughly acquainted with the customs and tradi tions of his own land but, in order to bring a scientifically trained mind to bear upon them, to study anthropology when he enters Sydney University.—“Eriki.” * * * THE Germans who remained in New Guinea after the war, and the Austra lians now in occupation of the country, have become very good friends. That is not surprising. The Germans are good pioneers. There are few better Australians in Australia than the descendants of the German colonists who settled in Victoria and South Australia.

Conditions in New Guinea have quaint repercussions, sometimes. They tell of an Australian and a German who were en gaged in a convivial argument in Sala maua.

Finally, the Australian, quite forgetting he was talking to an ex-enemy, burst out with: “Gorstruth, I’m one of the blokes wot went to the war so that you blokes could stay at ’ome and ’ang on to your bleedin’ jobs!”

The German, who had served in the German line in France, stared in amaze ment, and then shouted: “Vot! And you say dot to me!” ♦ ♦ * WITHIN the f£,ded folds of early Colo nial newspapers lie many a forgotten Story of Pacific adventure. Readers of the Sydney Herald learned towards the close of 1831 of the experience of a young man named John Mathews on the island of Malaita. Even within recent years Malaita has been regarded as one of the most savage and barbarous islands in the Solomons: among a population of 40,000 natives, the Church of England can only claim 1,600 converts.

Mathews was a member of the crew of the whaler Alfred when the vessel was fishing off Malaita in 1830. A dispute arose with the natives, a result of which was

the death of the commander and several of his crew. Mathews was wounded, and captured alive. The following year he was able to send a message cut on a piece of bamboo to another vessel. Captain Har wood, of the Hashmy, later reported in Sydney that an attempt would be made “to purchase this unhappy fellow from the natives.” Eventually, the schooner New Zealander arrived at Sydney with a let ter from Mathews; it had been enclosed in a carved coconut and sent to the vessel.

Poor Mathews was then in sore straits.

“Be kind to the natives as my life is in their hands,” he wrote. “They keep me close and will not let me come near the ship.” He advised his countrymen to make the bearer of the letter a present. “Some thing showy,” he said. “Be careful of the natives; they are forming a plan to take the ship. Do not come on shore without firearms. They are cannibals!” Mathews added a postscript: “If you will send me a shirt and a pair of trowsers I will be much obliged. I am in a state of nature 99 r Whether efforts to secure his liberty were successful or not, history does not relate. —“Eriki.” * • * IV|R. W. H. CAPORN, now a resident of Sydney, tells how one day when he was a trader in the New Hebrides he gave a native a lesson in manners. A native houseboy brought in a coconut from a neighbour, dumped it down on the table and said, very abruptly: “Master send you this coconut!” Mr. Caporn rose and said: “I think I must teach you better manners.

You sit down in my chair, and I will bring in the coconut and show you how a mes sage should be delivered.” The boy sat in the chair; and Mr. Caporn came through the door, stopped at a respectful distance, made a low bow, and said: “Sir, my master presents his compliments, hopes you are well, and requests your acceptance of a small present.”

“Give your master my thanks.” replied the boy unexpectedly. “There is 2/- for yourself, and tell him also that I am now ready to buy his coconuts.” Mr. Caporn

saw the humour in the situation, gave the boy his 2/-, and thereafter took an interest in him; with the result that he now is himself a successful trader in the Islands. * * * A N interesting link with the history of Samoa has been secured for the Auckland War Memorial Museum by the Mayor, Mr. Ernest Davis. One of the steering wheels of H.M.S. Calliope, which steamed out of Apia harbour during the great hurricane of March 16,1889, has been through the Mayor’s efforts, obtained from the Admirality, and entrusted to the safe keeping of the citizens of Auck land. New Zeaianders have always felt a sense of pride in the achievement of H.M.S. Calliope, as she was using West port coal at the time.

Cheered by the crew of the United States doomed war-vessel, Trenton, the Calliope steamed out in the teeth of the gale, with but a few feet to spare, and passed through the narrow reef to safety and the open sea, where she rode out the storm. Other vessels that were lost at that time included the U.S.S. Trenton, Vandalia, and Nipsic, and the German Adler, Eber and Olga. The iron hull of the Adler, high on the reef, defying sea, time and charges of dynamite, is still the most conspicuous object on the water front at Apia.—E.R.

AN ecclesiastic dignitary, well known in the Solomons, tells a good story of how, some years ago, an attack of gastric malaria caused him to lie up—or down — at a planter’s house. It happened to be “steamer day” at one of the usual ports of call. At a very early hour next morning, a gentleman, whose head was not in very good condition, strolled into the dignitary’s bedroom by mistake. Observing a patient in bed. and violently ill, he exclaimed: “It’s —hie —alright, brother! Just carry on! We all get the same after steamer day! ” —A.M.A.

Mr. J. B. C. Bramell, son of Mr. B. W.

Bramell, a former Commissioner for Native Affairs in Papua, joined the Papuan Public Service in November as a Patrol Officer. He has been sent to the Government station at Kerema, in the Gulf Division.