Jail Is Out At 4 P.M. !

A Story of Cook Islands Justice by W. S. Bond

INSPIRED by the example of the four Aitutaki youths who ran away with a whaleboat and other articles and made their way to Niue during February, two other Aitutaki boys, also serving sentences, stowed away on the “Maui Pomare” when the steamer was collecting oranges from the group early in June.

The stowaways were discovered shortly after the ship had left the island. The chief constable of Rarotonga, who was travelling on the vessel, Questioned the boys in the captain’s cabin, when they frankly admitted that they had stowed away deliberately to get to Rarotonga, as it was believed that the prison system in Rarotonga was not so hard as in Aitutaki.

They arrived in Rarotonga during a long week-end—the Monday being a pub lic holiday—and on this account on Sat urday morning the two stowaways applied to the chief constable for leave of absence until Tuesday.

The two young men w 7 ere so annoyed when the Chief Constable quietly but firmly explained that it was the custom to lock prisoners in the jail when not working, that they gave vent to their feelings by attempting to set fire to the jail at night.

At present Cook Islands residents are sitting back waiting to see just what atti tude certain NZ newspapers will take in regard to this new item of Cook Island news. They made an extraordinary job of the whaleboat escapade.

For a long time residents have been complaining of the increase in petty of fences and in cheekiness of the young local “toughs”; they attribute it to the leniency of the police court. It came as a surprise, therefore, to find that our fam ous Gilbert and Sullivan prison system is now within range of an increasing barrage of criticism, on the grounds of its severity.

When the Aitutaki boys left on their voyage to Niue many Aitutakians were re lieved to be rid of the young pests for a spell and hoped that wherever they landed the authorities would keep them for a while. Apart from some natural anxiety for their safety, few people treated the matter very seriously.

It remained for a NZ newspaper to tell us that these desperate young men had risked their lives in an epic voyage rank ing with the exploits of the old Poly nesian navigators, to escape from NZ in justice in the Cook Islands. It was hoped also that their remarkable exploit would arouse enough attention “to demand an end for ever to the whole amazing sys tem of injustice in the Cook Islands.”

The first paragraph of this headlined article complained that Cook Islanders were fined 5/- or 10/- for such petty offences as letting animals wander, for keeping pigs too close to the house, or for cohabitation.

Possibly such matters may sound trivial enough to newspaper readers in civilised cities —but let them live for a few years on an island of the Cook group, trying to relieve the monotony of diet by coax ing a few miserable vegetables from un promising soil, and carrying precious water long distances —only to have their labors of weeks, or months, destroyed overnight by a stray pig or horse. This is bad enough from the European point of view; but to the native planter and homesteader the damage to tomatoes, kumaras, bananas and other crops caused by straying ani

mals can be a very serious and heart breaking matter.

The ever-questing snout of an islands pig can only be compared with a modern bulldozer in the utter destruction and up heaval it can achieve in a remarkably short space of time.

As regards the prohibition on keeping pigs close to the house—this is not only a question of sanitation, but a prohibition made in the sure knowledge that pigs kept near the house are far too handy to other people’s property when they break their moorings—as they frequently do.

In view of the fact that sanitary mat ters and general medical affairs are also under attack, should we, or should we not keep pigs near the house?

In actual fpct. you see, allowing animals to stray is not such a “petty” offence. The law against it exists for the protection of native property. But what is far more to the point, is that these local laws, includ ing many others, are local ordinances made by the native Island Councils, and not by New Zealand.

AND in regard to cohabitation; we de test this ridiculous, archaic, early missionary-inspired law; but again it is a native-made law. Few cases come be fore the rourts these days because the Resident Agents and other officials detest it as much as any, and turn a blind eye towards it as far as possible.

But the Government is well aware, as are all persons with intimate knowledge of the Cook Islands, that any attempt to do away with this incredible law finally would provoke an immediate uproar from the native church elders.

Persons who either cannot, or prefer not to, pay fines in cash, work them off by doing jobs on administration property, roads and other public works. When their daily work is finished the men return to their own homes. In all the outer islands, except Aitutaki, the men are required to work only from 7 a.m. to 12 midday (Sun days excepted). The same rule applied in Aitutaki before the establishment of the American base, since when they have been required to work until 4 p.m. owing to the extra amount of work to be done.

Naturally, some persons are sentenced for more serious offences than permitting animals to stray and. as in all other com munities, we have our share of incorrigible voung “toughs” who are perpetually in trouble. The practice of allowing “pris oners” to return to their own homes after working hours gives the young larrikins plentv of opportunity to get into further trouble while already serving a sentence. riIHE critics find that this system is too JL harsh. In the case of Aitutaki they complain that the men are not pro vided with transport, have to provide their own food, get into trouble for being late to work, and that in the case of married men the wives and families have to look after themselves while the man is doing “time.”

IT may be true that we can become hard ened to the sight of human suffering but we must confess that we had not noticed that the Cook Islands penal svstem was particularly harsh. We have often thought that there was quite a note of pride in the voice of some of the lads when thev sav: “I work for the Govern ment”; and they seem happy enough as they pass by in a truck on the way to a

job, playing ukeleles and singing hula songs.

How often have we passed a drowsy half hour watching a “prisoner” at “work.”

See this boy cutting grass: he sits in the warm sunshine with his legs wide apart, thoughtfully contemplates the task immediately before him. After due de liberation, he decides which wisp of grass to attack, takes it daintily with his finger tips and hacks it through with a gentle swipe of the sickle. Then he sags again to gather strength for the next effort.

It is not outside the bounds of possibility for a “prisoner” to pop round the back of somewhere for a quick spot of jungle juice with a sympathetic pal.

On one occasion we were attracted by a large crowd gathered in Avarua’s main thoroughfare. It proved to oe neither fight nor accident. Two prisoners had been served with a ladder, a can of white paint and some brushes, and had been detailed to naint the white bands on the telegraph Doles. By some means best known to themselves, the two had managed to get gloriously drunk, and their antics with a ladder and a can of white paint would have done credit to Hollywood in the cus tard-pie era.

There is a central jail in Rarotonga where the nrisoners convicted of more serious offences are locked in the jail at night. And it frequentlv occurs that the more serious offences in the outer islands are committed deliberately so that the culnrit may be sent to Rarotonga— which is looked unon as a holiday in a new country with all expenses paid by the Government.

The Rarotonga jail could hardly be con sidered a “Devil’s Island” type of estab lishment, but a highly entertaining book could be written about it. There is be fore the court at this very time a man accused of breaking INTO the jail. Nor is he the first accused of this crime.

Some time ago the police were baffled by a mysterious series of robberies. No trace could be of fhe stolen goods, it finally came to light that the phantom burglar was an inmate of the jail itself, the booty being cached in various nooks and crannies of the prison. It was a master mind that realised that this was the perfect headquarters for crime—the last place that the police would dream of looking. . .

Then there was the classic incident when the chief of police was unable to sleep because of the sounds of revelry by night coming from the jail. Each night the jailbirds managed to become exceed ingly iolly, but the police were completely baffled as to the source of their convivi ality. It was not until one of the pris oners. for some reason, fell out with his pals, that the secret was revealed. Act ing upon “information received,” the police discovered that the guttering round the eaves of the jail roof was lined end to end with beer bottles, some full, some empty. How so many bottles were stowed there in the first place, or how each even ing’s supply was smuggled in and the empties returned without detection, re mains a secret of our local Houdinis.

Some people (on the outside), appear to think'that law and order in the Cook Islands should be abolished as interfer ence with the rights of a free people.

Our old-timers feel that this would be a great pity, as it would deprive them of a source of much harmless amiusement.