Tropicalities

Magazine Section

Coronation Interlude

[N a certain high school, which shall be nameless, the pupils, to stimulate interest in the Corona on, ware told to write an essay :x)ut the first Queen Elizabeth.

Ihis was one effort: “On a beautiful evening in August, •82, Queen Elizabeth entered the icient town of Coventry, and [vesting herself of her clothing, ounted a snow-white stallion and >de through the principal streets r the city. On her way she met lt Walter Raleigh, who, observing er naked condition, threw his coat aout her, crying, ‘Honi soit qui al y pense!’ which, being trans ted, means: “Thy need is greater ian mine!’ The Queen graciously sponded, ‘Dieu et mon droit!’ hich translated means, ‘My God, >u are right!’ This incident is died the Magna Charta.”

Those Village Receivers

N W. Samoa, the Government has supplied each village with a simple type of trouble-free radio ceiver, fitted only with a switch id a volume control. Permanently med to the local broadcast station, icre is no need for a tuning knob.

A radio technician back from imoa reports, however, that some the local village radio experts ive made an interesting discovery. y gouging a hole in the case, in rting a screw-driver and turning little screw, it is possible to shift om a dry debate in Apia’s Parlia ent to a lively hula from Hono lu, on a frequency close by.

Others, not knowing that trick, ive put an axe through their llage receiver when the Opposition emed to have gained a talking lint.

Later models may be in plough eel cases.

Time Limit On Truth

HAVE a native skipper who is quite a philosopher in his own way. The other day I was dis issing another native with him id referred to this second native a lying B .

My skipper replied: “Yes, he Iks too much so he must be a ir.”

On asking for his reasons for this i said that no native can tell the nth for too long, and that the ager he talks, the more lies he nst tell.

I have told the above to several iropeans of the more talkative

.. . „ - 01 . type, mentioning in the telling that there is nothing Phonal meant. It is surprising how quiet some of them after ey hear the story - Lj±lw tttta’c mm

Eua S Gold-Strike

BACK in February (p. 109) we reported a “gold-strike” on Eua, Tonga’s southernmost inhabited island. Coconut radio reported the strike as rich—a solid chunk of several ounces.

Weights were correct-only it turned out to be a piece of an old church candlestick or something similar—and it happened to be bronze. So Tonga s gold-rush is on for the moment.

Mend-And-Make-Do Dept.

MEET a man who is one of the few who have, literally, signed their own death certificate. He is Robert Kerr McLaren whose Scots accent belies the fact that he has been a long time away from his native land. At present a veter inary officer of the P-NG Adminis tration, he spends a lot of his time in the New Guinea Highlands—and has, as well, the distinction of hav

ing successfully operated upon him self for appendicitis with the aid of a mirror, a razor-blade, a pair of forceps and a pair of scissors, but without the aid of anaesthetic.

At the time of the operation (1944) he was on the run behind the Jap lines in the Philippines where he had been dropped to do intelligence work. He had been in agony for some time and it was either operate, or else. A couple of old Filipino midwives mopped the swea t from his brow occasionally, and helped around. Otherwise he had no £ sslstance ln the operation which lasted 4J hours. The Filipino men of the party were ido scared— that is wh y the y had Prevailed upon him to si g n heath certificate before he began. They were deter mined that there should be no reason for reprisals against them should they be found with a Euro pean corpse on their hands, He sewed up the wound and tied it off with manila hemp and that night was walking around. There followed immediately three days on the run from the Japs. Fost-opera tive shock? None. Only relief from pain. “Mind you,” says the still over-lean McLaren in that accent no self-respecting Anglo-Saxon typewriter could hope to reproduce, ‘J was carrying no weight at the time, and that helped. And I didn’t cut muscle. Just spread it out as though I were speying a bitch.” ~TTn MTr Tnww

Home Town Boy . . .

]Y/|EMBERS of the Fijian Infantry

If 1 Regiment’s football team, who

recently returned home from Malaya, reported that when they

visited Hongkong early this year they were entertained there by Mr.

Fong Wing Fook at a 12-course dinner. Mr. Fook said grace in Fijian, and conversed in that language throughout the evening.

Explanation: Mr, Fook left Vanua Levu 27 years ago, after earning enough money as a hawker to pay his passage to Hongkong. He has had much success, but has never forgotten the old home town.

He Was Indisposed

fJ\HE Cargo Cult leader Paliau, 1 who has been a considerable |nuisance in New Guinea since the war, was the subject of a special article in a Melbourne news paper in May. The writer, however, said that Paliau has lost most of his influence. Paliau had hoped to see the United Nations mission in April, but was indisposed. Paliau, who has very liberal ideas on the relationship of the sexes, and has had many wives, had ordered a woman to divorce her husband, then he married the divorcee, then the bereft husband broke some of Paliau’s ribs with a tomahawk, and Paliau then had a spell in hospital.

Has It A Familiar Ring?

“Properly managed, Papua and New Guinea, with their wonderful vege tation, their oil and mineral deposits, and their huge agricultural popu

lation, might become a prosperous and wealthy country, for they could produce cheaply so many things that are necessary to us.

“But it will not happen. Aus tralia cannot manage her own affairs. Her policy is to kill the goose that lays the golden eggs.

It needs statesmen, honest and fear less, to develop this country. Look at Fiji and Samoa.

“In Papua, a black man’s word is taken before a white man’s. When the Administrator returned from his trip down South, he shook hands with his black staff before greeting his white officials.”

Reads like something written very recently. Actually, it is from page 175 of A Woman’s Impressions of German New Guinea, written in 1920 and published in 1923!

“Tidal Wave,” He Said

NOW that Rabaul’s famous Force -7 earthquake is safely over (until the next time), residents can see the funny side of it.

There was, for example, the man who found a tidal wave in his kitchen. The nervous type, this one, he jumped out of bed wearing very little and ran into the kitchen.

There he was met by a wall of water —the tank just outside had upset or burst and flooded the floor.

But he howled, “Tidal wave!” dashed into the bedroom, put on a pyjama coat, flew outside and got into his jeep and drove to a neigh bour’s house, still yelling but neglecting to notice that the tidal

wave seemed mysteriously to have ended at his kitchen door.

On arrival he was still trembling, wearing little but the pyjama coat, and discovered that he had left his wife back home in bed.

In Rabaul now there is talk of building 40 new houses this financial year instead of the scheduled 19.

In many of the present white-ant and-borer-riddled, temporary Ad ministration houses, everything acts like a quria every time one of the occupants move.—Me.

When The Terrorists Run

PART of the success which the Fijian soldiers have had in chasing Communist terrorists out of the Malayan jungles is at tributed to the report, spread assidu ously by Malayans, that the massive Fijians eat any terrorists they can lay their hands on.

The terrorists, who take the soldier’s usual risk of death, seem to have a particularly strong objec tion to the combination of death plus stew-pot; and, when they hear that a Fijian patrol is out after them, they take to their heels and the high hills and the heather— or the Malayan equivalent thereof.

The Fijians don’t mind—it helps on the good work in Malaya.

Another Kododa Trail Epic

MR. lAN McGOWAN, 21-year old son of Mr. W. L. McGowan, Assistant Director of Works, P-NG, recently got into trim for resuming his medical studies at

This is Dr. Wm. Armstrong, here sketched by Brett Hilder. He was born at Bendigo in Victoria, graduated MB, BS, at the Melbourne University in 1924 and was appointed in charge of the Presby terian Mission Hospital at Lenakel on the Island of Tanna in the New Hebrides.

After two years he retired because of ill health, and spent 10 years in private practice before going back to Tanna. He went on leave to Australia in February with Mrs. Armstrong and their adopted Tannese daughter Rachel.

Queensland University by walking KjO Kokoda and back.

Accompanied by a young Rigo native, he did the walk from Port Moresby to Kokoda and then back • ;o Rouna in 12 days, 5 hours, walk ing time. Trudging from Port Moresby to Sogeri he blistered his neels so badly that it was impos sible to wear boots, so he did the whole trip from Sogeri to Kokoda □arefoot. It took him 8 days 2 nours from Moresby to Kokoda, and Jl days 3 hours on the walk back to Rouna.

He had intended to walk right to [he McGowan home in Port Moresby, :iut the family was apprised of his imminent return and motored out and picked him up on the last lap.

He carried his own gear and food, .{trained a knee muscle at the start Df the trip, got bitten by a scorpion, dept in hastily rigged bush shelters, got bushed a couple of times, and "eturned home with badly cut and iwollen feet (although he managed n wear boots on the return walki.

His young native companion had lad enough before they got back to Sogeri, and lan then carried the joy’s pack as well as his own.

He got in a little medical experi

ence in treating villagers for tropical ulcers and malaria. They in their turn were generous with gifts of native foods. He lost eight pounds in weight on the trip.

Talking Points

YOU’LL he sorry to hear that the Hotel Mocambo, at Nadi, Fiji (which is the airlines’ dining room and guest house) has taken down the island scene of naked native girls which an American GI painted during the war.

In its place is a very ordinary piece of mottled woodwork.

Why do we do things like that?

That bar decoration, though it might have offended a very few, gave the place a “talking point” — something to bring Nadi to the mind of any travellers who ever saw it— and Nadi’s a joint with very little anyone wants to remember. (From Sydney Telegraph Columnist David McNicol, who was on his way to the Coronation).

If Miss Daphne Lucas, daughter of Dr. and Mrs. J. L. Lewis, of Port Moresby, has announced her en gagement to Mr. Max Law, of Port Moresby.