Three Mad Days

When Two Great "Luxury Liners" Visited Tahiti

By Edward C. Snow

IN the middle of a period of depression, for three brief days, Tahiti, geo graphically lucky, fell under favour of the Goddess of Fortune. The Matson Line chose Tahiti as a safe spot for an erstwhile cruise. A third of Papeete's total population in crews and tourists at one visit, and a deluge of perhaps 115,000 dollars! No mean windfall for any city, ancient or modern.

It is not easy to describe how Papeete was turned into Honolulu for three days.

Paradise took on a vicious earthiness, the law of supply and demand ruled in the primordial jungle manner. The

“Soak ’em” motif of the commercants; the sulky, jealous indifference of the de featist French Government, contributed to a picture painted in the rawest prim ary colours.

France has been the playground oi eaters of alien corn from the world over, since tourism began. And French policy had always been to operate special prices for so fine a class of pigeon. For ex clusiveness and record prices, Deauville, Cannes and Monte Carlo stood unbeaten, even in America. But in August, 1940, Tahiti financially decapitated, outbid, shocked and knocked cold even its proua parent.

Prices rose a hundred to three thousand per cent.—6 francs (1/-) was asked and paid for a glass of iced water, 25 francs (3 6) for a packet of the cheapest French cigarettes, 30/- for an ordinary meal. £3 for accommodation for two in a native bungalow, and up to £l3 for a taxi ride round the island, etc.

The Chinese removed their price tags and charged anything they could get, but towards the end the tourists dis played a strong inclination to ‘‘button up” —whereupon prices fell and the dollar rose. Uo to 90 francs worth of mer

chandise was given for a dollar by some Chinamen.

The cruises concluded as former South Sea Bubbles concluded. They burst, and left Papeete with a headache that took a week to get over.

The ships went, the tourists went— and 50 others as well. A number were left behind, not having the 300 dollars the Matson Company asked. Double fare for the single journey may have been in order for movie stars, with plenty of filthy lucre, but that didn’t include the entire tourist complement at Papeete.

THE “Monterey”, from Sydney, entered Papeete Pass at 6.30 a.m. on Sat urday, August 3, with little clear ance between her keel and the coral. Sea planes provided a fitting escort.

Papeete’s pulse quickened. The Tahitian girls, carefully groomed and dressed, jittered as though their blood boiled, assured of conquests to come. Haloed plaited hair and blue black satin pyjamas, with hieh neck collars, struck a dominant note: while motors, by the hundred, lined the main street and wharf.

As though it were a thermometer in boiling water, the temperature of the town arose. It was hard for a person to think clearly, or decide anything, as the invasion of Australian and New Zealand tourists and through American passen gers swent in, like a tidal wave. Every body was on nleasure or business bent, one and all determined to miss nothing.

War-time exchange regulations, forcing all tourists to change their pounds and dollars into Paneete francs, at Spitz Curio Store or the local bank, soon proved

hopelessly inadequate. Despite threats of terrific penalties, the Chinese offered double the pegged rate, and relieved the chaos.

An endless stream of taxis poured out past the customs shed, filled with tour ists who had previously reserved them for a trip round the island. Stops were made at Rivnac’s White Beach Hotel, Lafayette and Cristion’s “Royal Tahitian Bunga lows” for meals and refreshments.

SHARP on schedule, the “Mariposa”, from San Francisco, etc., appeared, and the tempo of the town re doubled. Familiarity with the ships in 'Frisco and Sydney has reduced the im pression they make. However, one’s sense of nroportion was restored by witnessing the effect of forty-five thousand tons of modern shipping in such a setting as a South Sea Island lagoon.

Eyes goggled in awe and wonder as the “Mariposa” cruised along the tree lined foreshore, broadcasting from her boat-deck a fanfaronade of radio music.

The influx of tourists from the States exceeded that of Australia and New Zea land three times, and it speedily turned Papeete into a veritable madhouse.

All sense of proportion was lost, in the rush to get dollars, or spend them. From the cabarets came a bedlam of noise, hou jazzing, jitterbug swing and Tahitian tunes.

From Quinn’s charged a man, scream ing as though demented: “I’m goin’ to buy a hat! I’m goin’ to buy a hat!” He charged up the street waving his arms, reversed, and flew back into Quinn’s again, as though his life depended on it.

The Firewalk nroved a great attraction, though its former mysticism has long since departed. It ended in a fiasco, with every small boy in Papeete waltzing on the basalt rocks.

The expositions of paintings were too numerous to count or describe in detail.

A considerable number of the paintings were what Mr. W. W. Bolton aptly de scribed as “abortions”; a vogue of paint ing originated in Tahiti, many years ago, by Paul Gauguin, and elaborated by Picasso and others. Up to £lO was asked for a bilious-looking mess that a cow could have created with its tail.

Some fine pearl collections came to light—the real things, so unlike the cul tured and artificial kind. There were miniatures in ivory bone and silver, ex quisite filigree work, well worth writing home about, particularly as their setting was so unusual and unexpected.

With the arrival of the “Mariposa”, the entire American tourist complement had to change immediately to the “Monterey” and vice versa. The through passengers stayed as they were. The idea was some thing unique in both Tahiti’s history, and that of tourism generally.

This Tourist Invasion, because of its sweep and extent, cut across a wide stratum of British and American life.

Some were very queer types, others raffish and fascinating people. Many looked like characters out of a story, even like the characters in Grimm’s Fairy Tales.

There was a dwarf woman, only two feet high, who wore three leis round her neck. There was the tallest man in the world (8 feet 6 inches in height), fol lowed by Tahitian natives, from shop to shop, exclaiming “Awaei” or “Aue”! There was a troupe of singers from Honolulu, bound from America to Sydney. Multi coloured shirts festooned with palms, canoes, and natives spearing fish, were all the rage among the American tour ists; while on the pockets were crest badges and shields inscribed “Alohawai”, “Royal Hawaiian” and “Here I come”.