Harking Back —A Decade In Fiji

The second article by “NA MATANIVANUA” who spent the 30’s and early 40’s in Suva, Fiji.

IN the middle thirties, Fiji woke up to the possibilities of the tourist trade, and started to flood neighbouring countries with blurb extolling the winter sunshine of the islands and the romance of the tropics. In due course, this sucker-bait was taken, and cruise-ships from Australia and New Zealand began to call regularly. Orient and P. & O. liners each brought upwards of 1,000 people from Australia —all of them out for a good time during their week-end in Fiji. The “Katoomba” brought smaller crowds, and some of the Union Company’s vessels, too, cruised from New Zealand to the islands.

Local residents looked forward to these visits, for apart from the chance of meeting friends from overseas, the cruise ships meant a round of festivities. While Suva-ites were blase concerning fire walking and native mekes, a dance at the Grand Pacific Hotel, with hundreds of new faces about, was always a welcome break in the monotony.

One annual cruise visitor will always be remembered in Suva—the beautiful little Norwegian ship, the “Stella Polaris.”

With her yacht-like lines, she had been built especially for luxury cruising. Every year she included Suva in her de-luxe, world itinerary, and every year Suva people flocked to the Grand Pacific for the pleasure of dancing to the ship’s justly-famous Viennese orchestra. rpOURIST ships were a novelty, but one X must not forget the affectionately regarded old regulars which kept the Colony in touch with the outside world and made Suva the crossroads of the Pacific in the years of peace.

The Matson liners, “Mariposa” and “Monterey,” came and went with the regularity of clockwork, berthing on the tick of eight in the morning and letting go as the clock struck five in the after noon. In contrast, there were the “Aorangi” and the beloved old-timer, the “Niagara,” rarely running to time, but nonetheless welcome and looked upon as old friends by Fiji people.

Remember their skippers—“ Micky” Hill, “Bill” Martin and J. F. Spring-Brown, to mention only three? Who can ever forget the sadness that was felt through out the Colony on that May morning in 1940 when news came through that the “Niagara” had gone?

Or the cargo ships which called regu larly—the “Karetu,” “Waihemo,” “Haur aki” and the “Waipahi,” the latter sub sequently replaced by the “Matua,” which was built specially for the Islands trade.

And the Shell Oil Company’s tanker, the “Pinna,” running back and forth from Singapore and Balikpapan year after year, so that her skipper, Captain Thomas, became quite an Islands insti tution.

FIJI had her own little ships, too. The old “Pioneer,” first yacht to be fit ted with diesel engines, which came to Fiji as the Government yacht. She had been built for a sewing-machine millionaire and later did honourable war service. The cost of her upkeep and fre quent engine overhauls was a constant bone of contention with elected members of the Legislative Council, but Fiji resi dents had a very soft spot for the old “Pioneer,” her genial skipper, Paddy Mul lins, and his officers, and it was with real regret that they saw her hull stripped, towed out to sea and sunk. Her suc cessor, the “Viti,” built in Hongkong, may be practical, but she is ugly and

lacks the beautiful lines of her pre decessor.

When “Viti” first came out and tied up alongside the old “Pioneer” berth, she was something of a show-piece with her modern fittings, and one Govern ment officer “borrowed” her, so to speak, for a cocktail party. Was it that which earned for her the sobriquet of Fiji’s “pocket bottleship”?

Then there was the “Degei,” built by the Public Works Department, and which, when completed, showed a strange reluctance to enter her natural element.

Though she was a work-boat, official dom decided that she should have her great day, so when the tide was suitable the slipway was bedecked with flags and everything made ready for a pukka launching. His Excellency the Governor grasped the traditional beribboned bottle, crashed it against the ship’s bows, named her, and —nothing happened. “Degei” remained stubbornly on the stocks, and nothing that the engineers or their help ers could do would shift her. The tide was dropping, so she was left there to be unceremoniously heaved in, a few days later, without the benefit of a dis tinguished audience.

WAR in the Pacific made Fiji aircraft conscious, but it is not so long since Suva’s entire population gazed sky ward when a visiting man-o’-war launched a plane. There were private planes in Fiji—Alf Marlow had a Dor nier, C. G. Fenton had a small seaplane,

and I believe there were others. But I think I am correct in saying that the first commercial air venture was that of Fiji Airways, when Alan Cross, formerly of New Guinea, and his colleagues oper ated two small seaplanes between Suva and Lautoka (before the road was opened) and between Suva and Levuka and Taveuni. The venture was short lived, however, and lack of business saw

the exit of Fiji Airways soon after philatelists had collected their quota of first-day covers from the inter-island air mails.

Just before the war in the Pacific, Pan American Airways put Fiji on the air map when its giant clippers made Suva a port of call between Canton Island and Noumea. Suva’s Town Board gave a reception for the crew of the first clipper to make a scheduled stop, and the ser vice was just getting to be routine when Japanese bombs on Pearl Harbour caused its suspension. Wartime air development in Fiji must remain a forbidden subject till after the war; but this can be said —it must inevitably have its effect on the future of air transport in the Colony.

IN recalling flying in Fiji, one cannot forget the late Sir Charles Kingsford- Smith. His visit in the old “South ern Cross” on his pioneering trans pacific flight was before my time, but I saw him land the much smaller “Lady Southern Cross” on Albert Park a few years later; and, seeing that, I have never ceased to wonder how he ever put the “old bus” down in safety on that pocket-handkerchief of park. Those were the days when “Smithy” was blazing the trail across the Pacific for the air-liners of later years.

A good story about the great Austra lian air-pioneer went the rounds in Suva a few years ago. Sir Charles was pass ing through Suva as a liner passenger, and the Governor’s ADC called on him.

The ADC, an affected young man, inclined to be patronising, chattered away for some time to the tune of “Smithy” this and “Smithy” that, till it got too much for the Australian. Interrupting the flow of chatter, Sir Charles inquired of his visitor his military rank, and on being told by the ADC that he was a captain (local), and a lieutenant (reserve of officers), he is reported to have replied: “Well, young man, I happen to be an Air Commodore, which, in case you don’t

know it, is equal to a Brigadier in the British Army; so please say ‘Sir’ when you address me.”