Valuable Plants Of Fiji

Useful As Perfumery and Drugs

By H. B. R. Parham

WHEN anyone writes of the valuable plants of any country, we understand, naturally, that reference is made to those plants, trees, and flowers, which might presumably be made profitable, provided that energy and capital, together with what, for want of a better word, we may call vision, can be employed and co ordinated.

We also assume that there is a price less value in the beauties of nature, for their intrinsic worth. For surely there is joy in magnificent foliage, in the rich and diverse colouring of quiet bush and reef-girt bays, even in the strange, al most freakish fruits that are seen for a first time when visiting these pleasant shores.

There are valuable timbers still left for the gifted cabinetmaker, sweet scented and of beautiful grain, fit for the tools of the most exclusive and artistic craftsman. That, however, is another story, for it is a subject that calls for special notice, and must be left at this time. There are still many perfumed shrubs which merit description.

There is, for instance, that fascinating shrub, the Sinu Damn, as the Bua nat , ives call the Drymispermuin hurmettia num of botanists. Like other flowering shrubs of the Thymelaceae order, the Sinu Damu is singularly attractive, for it has exquisitely scented white flowers, which in due time are succeeded by bril liantly-red berries. It is most surprising that one does not see this lovely shrub more often under cultivation, as it would certainly prove a very ornamental addi tion to our garden bushes.

Both the Sinu Damn and the Matiavi grow on the sea-coast, and both are often referred to under the generic name, Sinu.

Sinu Damu, of course, indicates that it is a red Sinu. Damu is Fijian for red.

The Matiavi (Drymispermum Succor datum) is called in the Bua Province, Sinu Matiavi. The reason for this is that Matiavi means tidal, and the distinctive name therefore refers to the habitat of that species. Like those of the Sinu Damu the flowers of the S. Matiavi are very highly perfumed. They are greenish white and change to a yellowish hue just before they finally pass away. These sweetly-scented four-lobed blossoms grow in clusters, either in the axils of the branchlets or in bunches, right out of the slender, main stem or trunk. Their tubular, individual flowers are quite two inches long. The leaves, which are a very bright glossy green, are six or seven inches long.

The S. Matiavi is quite a small tree— almost too small to be called a tree at all—but it is a very attractive denizen of the high bush near the sea, where it mostly is to be found.

Both S. Damu and S. Matiavi are really night-flowering shrubs, and are

only to be seen in their fullest glory by early risers. Later comers will doubt lessly think the fragrance has been ex aggerated, or at best over-estimated. The flowering time is in March and the ap pearance of the blossom is so sudden that it takes even a close ooserver by surprise. While the flowers last, it is truly a beautiful sight, and makes the bush for a while like Titania’s fairy kingdom. Unfortunately, it is a transient joy, for the lovely blooms quickly pass away.

Then, in our wanderings, we may often come on the big tussocks of the Co Boi (Gymbopogon Coloratus), and some other species perhaps of the pleas ant-smelling lemon-grass. Seemann re ported two species, which he called res pectively the Antropogan Refractus and •the A. Acidulatus, and there are others which he did not describe. The above are known in Bua under the Fijian name of

Yagi Yagi, but there is a small addi tional variety which the natives call Co Bona.

They think a great deal of all kinds of lemon-grass, believing it to be a useful medicine as well as a most efficacious anti-mosquito plant. The Buans stuff p Hows with the dried grass, and place absolute faith in thus keeping the tire some namu (mesquito) at bay).

In N’droga, the natives give the lemon grass another name— Ramhu. The deriva tion of this word, however, is somewhat obscure.

When lemon-grass is well dried, the strong smell of lemons is marked; and me same can be said of the cushions which are filled with the grass—they long keep the pleasant tang of lemons. Natives consider that there is medicinal value in

the plant, and a kind of tea is often made of the grass. Old settlers who used it said that the first water was never drunk but the second was as agreeable as tea!

Extract of lemon-grass might be used as a flavouring essence for the cu'sme, if rightly treated and properly prepared.

Perhaps a perfume cou.d even be evolved from it. * There is another very different plant which appeals more directly to that com mercial instinct, which we all have to cultivate to the full, if Fiji is to com pete in the markets of the world. This plant is called (as nearly as the spelling can be obtained) Vatuavelu by the natives of the district in which it has found a congenial home. The name points to the plant having been introduced, for it does not appear to be indigenous

though it is a native of other Pacific is lands. It is a free-grower where now located.

This plant has all the characteristics of the Pogostemon Cahlin, better known as Patchouli, and the Fijians value it highly as a perfume for their coconut oil.

It is almost certain that if Vatuavelu is not actually the commercially accepted Patchouli shrub, it could be cultivated equally well and to like advantage. As the price of Patchouli oil ranges from 35/- to 37/6 per lb., it should prove a safe and profitable venture even if fresh cuttings had to be obtained elsewhere— that is to say should the local species not be of a good enough strain to ensure success.

The cultivation of this herbaceous shrub is said to be comparatively easy.

The climate of Fiji seems to be idea 1 ., s nee the main desideratums for its suc cessful growth are: (1) a hot climate; (2) good rainfall; and (3) a fairly rich soil. The ground in some parts would probably require suitable fertilisers at first, but once the young plants were well established they would not need much intensive care.

The mode of reproduction found best in other countries is by cuttings, and these require to be watered and shaded until the roots strike. There is a possi b.lity that in Fiji it may be difficult to produce seed. The inflorescence is a long spike, but seed is seldom produced under cultivation.

The medium sized leaves are ready for harvesting in five or six months and the yield per acre has been estimated at 8,000 or 9,000 lbs. (weighed when green).

To make them fit for transport, these green leaves must be dried under cover, and in this process generally lose 75 per cent of their weight. It is usual to gather a further crop at the end of an other six months so a ton of green leaves per acre may be reckoned every year.

The cured leaves are often sent in that state to Europe to the distillers for treatment. Here it might be more pro fitable to distil the oil in situ —it would be cheaper and easier to ship. It is reckoned that a ton of dried material should yield 12 to 15 gallons of oil, or roughly that £5O per acre could be ob tained. This is a sufficiently high return to compare favourably with the average gain from copra in Fiji, which is com puted at the varied yield of from 7 cwt. to i ton per acre each year.

It is needless to say that the early years would need capital and that right on the maintenance charges would have to be deducted. As in all intensive farm ing it is these charges that take the gilt off the gingerbread. However, much more could be said in favour of such an in dustry, for very likely larger returns could be obtained.

Meanwhile, there are other absolutely indigenous plants that are waiting for exploitation by the right people—for Fiji does not unlock her treasure-houses for the idle or the selfish.