Tripping On The

Nautical Interludes

"Vai"

The Launch With the Reputation

By “Amel”

rE sun was fast disappearing. The western sky was tinged a faint pink, and the rugged mountains looked black against it as the “Vai” sped past the tiny rocky isle at the mouth of the Yanawai River and followed a line of beacons to the blue water outside.

Many people, in Fiji and in Australia, perhaps still have memories of the “Vai”

-r-the large, fast launch belonging to the Mount Kasi Mining Co. —and some of those memories will be far from sweet.

For the “Vai” has the reputation of being a lively so-and-so of a boat. And she usually lives up to it.

But on this particular evening she was behaving very well, for the sea was like a meadow pond. On a seat in the cockpit, a sick child, who was being rushed to the hospital at Na Bauto, lay wrapped in blankets. It slept fitfully, watched by its mother. But when it awoke and whimp ered, it called for its father, who hurried down to gather the child in his arms and hush it to sleep again.

The sun had gone now, and, in a short while, darkness was closing in. Out of the dimness up forrard came the captain’s

gruff voice speaking to us: “We will lose a lot of time if we drop you at your place to-night. Would you mind coming on to Savu Savu, and I will bring you back early to-morrow?”

We agreed, with inward qualms. There would be darkness, as black as pitch, no beacons or landmarks visible to guide us, the lighthouse was blacked-out and the course beset with hundreds of reefs. Only the rising tide was in our favour. For the rest, we had to depend on Waisake’s compass, his clock and his instinct. His instinct was probably the most reliable of the three. rE “Vai” went on into the inky pall without slackening speed. We talked with Enoke, the father of the sick child. A Fijian NMP, trained at the Suva Medical School, he remembered Dr. Lam bert well, and above the roar of the “Vai’s” engine he waxed enthusiastic about the “Yankee Doctor in Paradise.”

“I read it twice,” he said simply. “And my wife read it, too. We liked it.”

Occasionally a faint glow in the wheel house illuminated Waisake’s impassive face as he consulted his navigating in struments. After making mysterious calculations, he decided we had better alter course. So the launch swerved to avoid an invisible reef, and we went merrily on our way. Having seen the course in daylight, and knowing the num ber of reefs we were avoiding, my heart nearly failed me..

When the “Vai” finally drew alongside the wharf at Savu Savu, I could only feel thankful that the compass had hot dithered, the clock had not stopped, and Waisake’s instinct had not failed him.

It was an amazing fun of luck—but too good to last. rE next morning, two miles out of Nakama, heading for home, we ran into a fine southerly breeze and a beam sea which gave the “Vai” a chance to show what she really could do.

She met the first waves with a whoop, threw them over herself and tried to imitate a porpoise. Failing this, she did her famous roll, which is startling, even to the initiated. She teetered on the crest of a wave, then, with a reckless lurch, she was over! I breathed a silent prayer, and my past went by in a flash.

Tom removed his hat and got a firmer grip with his toe-nails.

What a relief to find, three seconds later, that Waisake was still caressing the wheel, the deck-hand’s snoring was un disturbed, and that the “Vai” had some how returned to normal!

“Take it easy!” I said, hoarsely. “The first five hundred are the worst. This is only the ‘Vai’ upholding her reputation!”