Tiopicalities

rE average man, when left on a small Pacific island, probably the only European inhabitant, is obliged to tackle quite a lot of things with which he may never have had any previous acquaintance. In fact, he usually leaves the island a handier, if not a wiser, man than when he arrived.

The job of Resident Agent in the outer Cook Islands covers a wide range of experience, from road-making to settling land disputes, or repairing a truck.

One young man, who previously was a school-teacher in -New Zealand, tackled the business manfully and. after three years of successful stewardship, passed through Rarotonga on furlough. He was rather surprised, to say the least, to overhear one old-timer describe him thus: “Who, D.? Why, he’s the worst RA in the Group. His concrete is terrible!” ♦ I AM retninded, by “Gold-miner True’s” story of efforts to teach natives to use a wheel-barrow (March “PIM”), of my husband’s attempt to get a pedal wireless going in our Solomon Islands outport. The boys simply could not use their feet on the pedals; and the tale goes that whenever my husband did manage to tune in to Tulagi, all they could hear at the Tulagi end was a con tinuous roar of; “Pedal, you b , pedal!”—AG.

WHEN golf consists mainly—as it does these days—of hunting for lost balls, it is something to have a dog such as Governor Sir Philip Mitchell’s Labrador retriever, “Star.” “Star” has an ancestry, and a: reputation from his breeder and trainer, that takes some liv ing up to; but he appears to be doing it, even in practically game-less Fiji- He does >his retrieving in the “rough” of Suva’s golf links, and his “bag” of eolf balls now runs into large figures. The balls are given by Sir Philin to the local Red Cross for sale—and “Star’s” contri bution to the war effort to date is over £lO. * AT a Suva Rotary Club function recently, Mr. Charles Schaffer, of Pan American Airways, snoke of his experiences in Hongkong just after the balloon went up.

December 7. 1941, he said, was a re markable day in his life because, on that day, he had a haircut in Hongkong Hotel. The Japanese barber was oolite to the point of obsequiousness and Mr.

Schaffer wondered whether the time would ever come when he would have to humble himself in similar fashion.

Four weeks later, he found himself bowing humbly and being extremely polite to a Japanese lieutenant in charge of a concentration camp. He was verv thankful that, a month before, he had tipped the lieutenant well while the lieutenant was still a barber. * EARLY in the New Year, residents of Melbourne were intrigued by groups of brown-skinned South Sea islanders walking in the streets, but as the islanders’ knowledge of English was limited, attempts to fraternise generally consisted of a drink or two. a hand-shake •—and that was as far as they could get.

However, one of them strolled into the Hawaiian Club, and there met two of the staff who spoke Maori and one who knew a little French. Above all. there were euitars by the dozen —and things began to look up.

Since then, the Tahitians have made the place their headquarters, and the

Chief of the Club, Buddy Wikara, has featured them at various big dances and stage shows, and at the present time two of them are appearing with him at the Tivoli Theatre.

The Hawaiian Club also organised a hospitality drive and the boys are now taken to various homes and seaside resorts every week-end- One of the most successful functions was a night at Luna Park, when the management made the whole place available. The excited yells of the Tahitians on the Big Dipper and various slides, were so infectious that everyone else in Luna Park stopped what they were doing and joined in the fun.

That made a really hilarious night!

They will depart soon for their island home. Their music, their carefree man ner, and consistent courtesy, have brought to grey and gloomy Melbourne a breath of a life that is free from much of the worry and care of so-called civilisation.— “Johnny the Dutchman.” * AUSTRALIAN newspaper correspon dent Osmar White writes: “Many a culvert on the mountain roads which supply New Guinea’s fight ing fronts to-day is shored up with logs of rosewood and cedar, of hoop and screw pine, or high-quality hardwoods.

Many a Digger on lonely staging camp duty in the hills has washed out of nearby creeks in a few weeks enough gold to gild all the leave he is ever likely

to get.”

Territorians of the timber-getting, gold-prospecting variety are advised to rest in a recumbent position with an ice pack on their heads, if this happens to rile them. There is mighty little else they can do about it: it is one of the fortunes of war.

Between 1937 and 1939 I ktiew a Ter ritorian who, when most of his pals were still gold-seeking, was having visions of a New Guinea timber industry. Before the balloon wqnt up, he had succeeded in getting some sort of reality into this dream; but, while he was exploring all the wrong avenues of approach, he on several occasions induced me to go with him to the Rabaul Botanical Gardens to view the only specimen of New Guinea walnut in captivity. As a scenic sight it bored me; but these journeyings to and fro, and the evident awe of my timber minded pal, inculcated in me a profound respect for New Guinea walnut, and everything pertaining thereto- I was shaken to the core the other day, therefore, when dashing through the printing factory I was confronted by a whole stack of large, plywood boards with the unmistakable stripey grain of New Guinea walnut. “What in the dickens are you doing with that?” I asked the foreman. “That’s New Guinea walnut— and valuable veneering timber!”

“Is that so?” he replied. “I thought it looked rather nice. We’re using it to mount stereos —we can’t get anything else.”

What kind of a nutty world is this?

(Continued Overleaf)

World sources of veneering timber were fast drying up before World War 11, yet, to-day, priceless quantities of these materials are being used to back adver tising stereos so that the merits of Some one’s Rosy-hued Pills for Listless Ladies, or Somebodyelse’s Vitaminised Breakfast Foods for Vim and Vigour might be belaboured in the magazines and periodi cals of Australia.—JT. • A WELL-KNOWN resident of Morobe before the war, who is now back in that area as a high-ranking AIF officer, foresees a great future for the Jeep and the helicopter in the New Guinea of the future. So sure is he of the large part they are destined to play he has already placed orders for these two wartime inventions in the appropriate quarters.

“The helicopter in particular should be of immense value,” he writes. “Prospec tors. recruiters, patrol officers and others seeking the back country should be able to make use of this machine to pene trate areas formerly inaccessible by rea sons of distance, rivers, and all other trials and troubles incidental to foot travel in the high mountain country.

“The Jeep has proved its ability to go almost anywhere, carrying sizable loads, and without the necessity of costly road construction. Even with mules, a track of sorts had to be cut, and a Jeep will

go practically anywhere a mule can go, and carry a much greater pay-load ” * FROM an Australian internment camp comes a brief note from an old Ter ritories resident, Mr. O. Soltwedel, who is known to most of the old-timers.

“I cannot complain,” he says, “except for the unnecessary loss of years of my life.

Everything has an end, and we hope that there will be a change soon. Please remember me to old New Guinea-ites.” • IT was stated some time ago in one of our issues that Mr. A. G. Smyth was present in Samoa during the riots of December, 1929. when High Chief Tama sese lost his life. An old resident of Fiji says: “This is incorrect. A. G. Smyth and Mrs. Smyth were my. guests here in Fiji on the day that the news of Tama sese’s death came through. A. G. Smyth shed tears when he learned of the tragic end of his old friend,” • A ROMAN Catholic missionary who escaped from the Japanese on the North Coast of New Guinea has sent us some interesting information about events there in 1942-3. For National Security reasons, most of it may not now be published. It is worth not ing, however, that the missionary says: In addition to the party of five Sisters, two Fathers and one Brother, whose escape was described in the March “PIM,” another party of seven mission aries got safely away. Referring to this, the missionary writes: “Lieutenant E.

Fulton is a brave, courageous soldier. He risked his own life to save that of mine and six other missionaries.” “Ted” Ful ton, former Administration officer and Sepik gold-miner, probably will resent bitterly being called a “brave soldier”— but honour where honour is due!

Mr. Wainwright Abbott, who has been United States Consul-General in Fiji for a number of years, is to leave shortly on transfer. His successor will be Mr.

Thomas S. Home.