Tropicalities

SALAMAUA must have been a little startled to see itself described in Australian newspapers by a recent visitor as “a cool and healthy place”, with strong claims to be the future capital of New Guinea. * * * IT was siesta time in Rabaul —that hour when the tottery capital swelters and sweats. The opulent business man was relaxing. The phone rang; the sec retary answered, and then turned to her employer.

“Long distance calling, sir,” she said.

“It’s a radio-phone call—Sydney on the wire.”

“Let’s see,” murmured the B.M. “That’s about 2,000 miles from here.”

“Just about that, sir,” agreed the sec retary.

“Tnen hang up,” ordered the employer wearily. “I’m too tired to talk that far!” * * * TV/TR. A. J. MARSHALL, described as a scientist, was interviewed recently by the Melbourne Herald concerning the New Hebrides, and talked the usual pop pycock about conditions there. This, for instance: — “If that were the whole story, the con dominium might be tolerated. But its effect'on the natives and native life make it essential for something to be done immediately, unless the story of the Tas manian aborigines is to be repeated on a grander scale.

“On top of this is brutal exploitation under which the natives are being exter minated. The population of the largest island, Espiritu Santo, has dropped from 70,000 to 4,000 within 100 years.”

The suggestion that the French and British are exploiting and exterminating the New Hebrides natives is grotesque, and show how much reliance is to be placed upon Mr. Marshall and the books he is supposed to be writing about the Pacific Islands. There was an enormous decrease in the populations of all the Pacific groups between 1800 and 1900 —the inevitable effect of the impact of European “civilisa tion” upon primitive people—but in prac tically every group the process has been reversed, and for two decades the natives, especially the Polynesians, have been in creasing. In the New Hebrides, the posi tion is obscure; but if these primitive tribes are not increasing the fact certainly cannot be attributed to “exploitation.” If they are decreasing, the rate of decrease now is very slow, and the basic causes are psychological rather than physical. * • * T INDBERGH of the Pacific”—that was the title Captain Edwin C. Musick, who perished in the “Samoa Clipper” dis aster, had won by his record and exploits in commercial aviation. A modest, unas suming gentleman, there was nothing of the back-slapping trumpet-blowing Ameri can about this famous airman, who pro bably was the most experienced flying boat officer in the world. In addition to pioneering the N.Z. service, he made the first commercial crossing of the North Pacific, from San Francisco to Manila. He received the Harmon Trophy of 1935 as “the world’s most outstanding aviator.”

A tragic revelation of the accident was that the ill-fated trip was to have been Captain Musick’s last. On the previous trip he had with him Captain W. D. Cul bertson and on his final trip he was

accompanied by Captain Sellers. These two pilots were to take command of the “Clipper” on alternate flights in future.

Captain Sellers, first officer of the “Samoa Clipper,” had had extensive ser vice with P.A.A. in the Orient. In 1936, as pilot to General Chiang Kai-shek, the Chinese leader, he flew Madam Chiang with ransom money to Sian, when the dictator was kidnapped by Chiang Hsueh liang. Sellers’ widow is recovering from a serious illness —a few days before the “Clipper” took off from Honolulu he gave her a blood transfusion.

The assistant engineer (J. A. Brooks) lost his life because he wanted to spend Christmas with his family in Hawaii.

Normally, he would have been on another “Clipper” and so missed the fatal trip; but he asked for a month’s leave at the end of November in order to be with his wife and two young children during De cember. Reporting back to work, he was assigned to the N.Z. route instead of his usual job.

Messrs. McLean (navigator), Findley (radioman), and Stickrod (chief engineer) all had flown down to Auckland in the “Samoa Clipper” on previous flights. Mr.

B. Brunk, the second officer, had just joined the Pacific service after being on P.A.A.’s Miami route. * * * A WELL-KNOWN merchant of Tonga does not like the outlook there. This is what he says in a letter to the Editor, dated December 17:—“Things are pretty bad here again, owing to the ef fects of the hurricane, the low price of copra, and the rapacity of the Govern ment and the Wesleyan Mission. There is no sign, so far, of any Christmas trade”. * * * IV/TOST Islands people are familiar with the history of the Bulolo goldfield, T.N.G., and how, owing to its inaccessi bility, it was necessary to transport all the plant, machinery, stores, and men by aero

plane and to maintain regular communi cation with the coast. In December, Mr.

Charles A. Banks, managing director of Bulolo Gold Dredging Ltd., was in Sydney on his way to New Guinea to inspect B.D.G.’s workings, and he recalled that it was exactly seven years ago (December 29, 1930) since the first of the two huge cargo-carrying Junkers G3l planes landed at Salamaua to commence carrying in parts for the first dredge.

Concerning this aeroplane, Mr. Banks told an interesting little story. Mrs. Banks was with her husband in Germany when he bought the two all-metal Junkers planes for this service. They were in the company of Professor Junkers, who asked what names it was proposed to give to the machines.

My wife without hesitation replied “Peter” and “Paul”, Mr. Banks said, I asked her afterwards why “Peter” and “Paul”, and she reminded me of the ditty which runs— Two little dlckie birds sitting on a wall, One called Peter, the other called Paul; Ply away, Peter, fly away, Paul — Come back, Peter, come back, Paul.

The machines were named “Peter” and “Paul”, concluded Mr. Banks. They have flown away many times since then—and they have always flown back again. * * * “'X'HE article ‘Vicissitudes of a Car- A Engine,’ giving the ‘auto’-biography of Papua’s first motor car, reminds me of former times in Papeete, when the mania for speed had not as yet disturbed the calm graciousness of life in Tahiti,” writes a correspondent, “Mahaena.” “There were, indeed, two motor cars. The one, a modest little tonneau car whose single cylinder valiantly transported its owner over One Tree Hill once a week; the other, a thing of sound and fury (whenever, after much heaving, priming and profanity, it could be induced to function) that shook Pa peete to its foundations, but was always giving up the ghost at places distant from its home port. Our dependence for going and coming was on the horse. Ordinarily, it took three days to travel around the island. If, however, four or five days were required for the journey, no one was very much concerned.”