Navigators Of Eastern

Polynesia

Old and New Methods

From Our Own Correspondent

Papeete, Jan. 27.

TF the American maritime strike con tinues much longer the mariners of this part of the South Seas will have to go back to sail.

Copra is gathered into Papeete from widely scattered islands by schooners powered with Diesel engines. At the present writing, supplies of Diesel oil are nearly exhausted and, until the strike be settled, there is no prospect of any fresh arrival of this product.

One wonders how the present genera tion of young skippers will react to the necessity for navigating by sail after so many years of motor transport. In the days of sail most of our old schooner captains had a very sketchy knowledge of the science of navigation.

One was particularly famous for ar riving at his destination by instinct rather than calculation. Usually his chronometers were out of order or he forgot to use them. He could calculate latitude and he would navigate his schooner to the latitude of the island for which he was heading and then sail east along the parallel. If, after two or three days, the island did not turn up he would know it was in the west. So he would turn his ship around and sail west on the parallel—and always arrived at his destination.

Even to this day, native skippers voy aging to the Tuamotus make for the atoll Anaa, directly east of Tahiti. They can hold their course by the sun.

Anaa has the peculiarity of possessing a shallow lagoon which reflects a faint green colour patch on the overhanging clouds. This is visible at a long dis tance. Native skippers watch for this and even if they have drifted consider ably out of their course, this faint green glow on the clouds in the distance will set them right.

Once at Anaa, the rest is easy. From there, east or north-east, a schooner is bound to sight island after island. If the island sighted is the wrong one, the navigator can soon get his bearings by finding out which island it is, and even tually arrive at the haven he is seeking.

The natives of the Austral Islands (south of Tahiti) where such new fangled things as Diesel engines have not been introduced, have not lost the art of sailing. Recently, the Rurutu schooner Manureva made a record voyage from that island to Papeete before a smart southern gale. She had her lee scuppers under water the whole of the way, and shed chicken coops, pigs and other items of deck cargo into the sea, while her passengers held on to ropes and any pro jecting tackle to keep themselves from following.

But, as a European who was on board bears witness, her crew handled her like master mariners sailing a yacht in an international cup race.