Journey
pp. 47-48 · Read in the full issue
Reminiscences On A Journey Taveuni To Suva With A Lady Beachcomber
AS the lovely outline of Taveuni—that garden of Fiji—with its crystal, rushing streams, grows dim from the cutter’s heaving deck, two figures stand out to awaken grateful memories: One is Mr. J, G. Taylor—through whose experienced hands many new chums passed in the early days; and the other that great old lady of the North End, Mrs. MacKenzie, whose silver hair is the only token of the passing years.
Labasa, still much the same, is a peaceful nook, whose stillness is only shattered by the whistles of the engines, and the sugar mill. There is a long march past of old friendly faces, but the McKean, Lardelli and Snodgrass families are all in Sydney. Mr. R. F, Lindsay is now GSR manager at Penang, and Mr. Barney Rourke is manager at Ba. Mr. H. K. Irving has earned an honourable retirement and now he and his wife have their home between Nasouri and Suva, which proves, perhaps, that the Islands are not the worst place in the world these days.
Of the old “sugar crowd” at Labasa, Mr. J. M. Allards, and Mr. Henry Clarke remain, Mr. Faber having retired a few months ago. Mr. H. B. Gibson is still regarded as the man to get things done —although he lost his seat in the Leg islative Council at the last election —to the disappointment of the elder and more conservative of his constituents.
The MacPhie family mantle of genial hospitality, seems to have descended on the Western Hotel, Labasa, which is built on the site of their old home on the river bank. The hotel is capably and happily managed by Miss Vera Marshall.
One’s memories of Labasa would be in complete, to the sahibs at all events, without a silent toast to the old “glory hole” and the great Scotsman, Mr.
James Laurie, who I believe passed into the Silence some years ago. Mrs. J. P.
Berry and her daughter Helen periodi cally visit Suva, and Ba, where Mr.
Graham Berry is on a CSR estate.
There is no “Rami” now to carry passengers to the mainland from Labasa.
The “Adi Rewa” and an occasional plane service are the connecting links with the world.
LAUTOKA is the embryo “garden city” of the Pacific according to some of its ambitious citizens led by Mr.
Adams. Well, it could have a lesser aim although it has not progressed very far to date.
There is, however, the avenue of Flam boyants which are gorgeous encourage ment from Lautoka’s earliest days, as an inspiration and buckler against the tor pidity and cupidity of the money changers.
We should like also to voice our ad miration and gratitude to that lady of Lautoka, whose courage and great heartedness have been instruments in starting a branch of the RSPCA. No crusader of old had to battle more valiantly and determinedly against the great blot on the civilised history of Fiji —the inhuman cruelty to our faithful four-footed friends. By her efforts, a Bill has now been brought up in the Legislative Council to provide against poisoning of dogs.
It took a woman to do it—but the women of this Colony have no vote.
The old Shamrock Hotel—the happy
and a modern wing, but the same brand of hospitality from the large, cool dininglounge with private bar.
The road winds on to an unchanged Ba. Mr. and Mrs. Christmas are the popular hosts of the hotel, now one of a chain sponsored by our old friend Sir Hugh Ragg. All remember that he never begrudged a helping hand to the old timers.
Along a very dusty highway full of bends and hurtling buses, we come to Tavua, where a second unit of Northern Hotels revives us bodily, and mentally takes us back to the beginning of it all. oasis of earlier days—has a new name
To old Bill Borthwick, who discovered the field; to the stark unbelief, the mud, the heat, and a crazy jumble of names: Pat Costello, Dr. Loftus Hill, Mr. Theo dore and, bit by bit, the emergence of solidity and gold from the rainbow hues of surmise and wishful thinking.
That remarkable Australian, Mr. Pat Costello, has never lost his faith in Fiji as a whole. He and his charming wife live at Suva Point now, daughter Peg is married and Pat is a grandfather, to add to his experiences.
Over the hills past Yangara and still on. Where the little Rest House stood at Rake Rake the hub of the travelling
mining men in the gold era, there is another up-to-date Northern Hotel unit.
The next break on the long hot jour ney is at Tailevu where we greet Mr.
Bob McPhie (of Brodziaks, Labasa, in the old days) and Mr. Tom Gatwood.
Nasouri is much the same—heat, rain and mildew. The bridge is the town’s greatest improvement. And so we come to Suva, on the whole, not changed for the better; but with its full complement of Town Planners and New Plans, and Economic Advisers. Something may come of one, or all of them.