Tough—But Pure

Gold

Memories of a Papuan Pioneer

Mr. J. Nixon Westwood writes an interesting article from San Francisco : — ON reading over some of my old copies of the “P.1.M.” I see the names of “old-timers”, but so far I have not noticed the name of one of the real pioneers of the Territory, Mick Hassett. I am therefore going to tell you a story of this truly good example of the pioneering spirit, which was at all times manifest in most of the Aus tralians who went to British New Guinea in those early days.

Mick was from the west coast of Tasmania, and had done a deal of tim ber-getting in that. area. He, however, came to Port Moresby, and eventually William Cunningham Bruce employed him on some of his clearing contracts.

When W.C.B. arranged, with Mr. George Francis Whybrow, to supply the saw mill at Manumanu with all kinds of logs, Mick was the man chosen to do the actual work.

He was sent with a party of boys up behind the Veimauri, and the work he did, plus the conditions he had to live under, placed him amongst those men who are called Empire-builders. At that time, we were clearing what is now known as Lolorua, an estate several miles further inland than Kanosia, and when I had a day or so to spare, I would go by whaleboat from the Kano sia landing, and up past where Jim Fowler and his wife were living, and visit Mick. He was always pleased to see us, and never failed to make some really hot bread in his Dutch oven.

His other regular visitors were the brothers Ryan—no relation of either Tim or the R. M., Ryan. One was called Tom, and I forget the name of the other. They, also, were interested in this timber-getting business, and had something to do with the hauling side of it. Dexter and Izod also helped, from certain points, and they finally hauled the logs to the mill at the mouth of the Reach.

Mick was the most outspoken man who ever visited Port Moresby. Whilst he was always careful of his language, he had one pet expression which, when used in the wrong place, means fight.

During one of his visits to Port, he had trouble with his teeth, and his temper was not of the best. Therefore, any one who did not appeal to* him was told in no uncertain terms what he, Mick, thought of him.

For some unknown reason he had taken a great dislike to a lawyer, who

had recently made his appearance in Port, and was, I think, an excellent cricketer. By that, I mean that he was able to meet all the men of the village and talk with them on the various games he had taken part in. His attempts to make friends with Mick were singularly unsuccessful.

It so happened that they met at the hotel meal table. Mick sat at the far end, whilst the lawyer sat at the end nearest the door. This, by the way, was in Tom McCrann’s old “pub”, where the Steamships Trading Company now stands (I think).

During the meal, Mick cast his eyes in the direction of the lawyer, and appeared most displeased. When this eye-passing contest seemed at its height, I arrived on the verapdah, to interview Mick about leaving for the bush, and I was greeted with a scowl.

I sensed that all was not well, and I saw that the lawyer was nervous, but I felt that anything I might say would not help matters.

Finally, after several minutes of this sort of eyeing, I heard Mick drop his fork upon the table and, in a most aggressive voice, say: “Mister, what might your name be?”

The reply, which for a lawyer, was most placatory, was: “My name is K -.”

Back came Mick: “Oh, so its Mr.

K ? Well, Mister K , when I likes a bastard I call him a bastard, and when I doesn’t, I calls him Mister. How do you do, Mister K .”

With that, the lawyer left his food and decided to make his getaway. When I took Mick to task for being so aggres sive, I was told that when he, Mick, did not like a man, it was useless anyone trying to alter his opinion.

Poor old Mick did not live long after that. Before he passed on, I met him up at his camp, looking about as de jected as it was possible for any human to look. He had visited Port to have his teeth attended to, and one of the numerous itinerant dentists had jerked them all out, and, sent him from Syd ney, if you please, an upper and lower set which had been made for someone whose mouth was no more like Mick’s than a dog is like a rabbit.

I am certain that this caused another of Nature’s gentlemen to pass over the Great Divide several years before his time. He had a heart of pure gold, and his friends were legion. No one ever appealed to him in vain.

Major G. B. Walker, of Melbourne, paid a visit to Papua by plane recently to inspect the properties of Clarke & Whiting in the Territory.

Mr. H. K. Woodhead. of Suva, was a passenger on a recent liner for Fiji from Sydney, where he had just completed three months’ furlough.

Mr. Ivan Champion, A.R.M. and Patrol Officer D. M. Rutledge, of the Papuan Service have enlisted in the A.I.F.

Messrs. R. H. Ferguson and I. McDonald, of the A.P.C., Ltd., staff have also left the Territory to enlist.