Tropicalities

Magazine Section

Spooks At Large

TWO elusive, purported spirits busily haunted the Keravat Sawmill neighbourhood in New Britain not long ago.

Two enterprising gentlemen appeared at the sawmill compound ■ and dramatically announced that I they were the spirits of two men who had recently met violent ) deaths.

One man had been killed by a falling tree, and the Administra ’ tion had paid £lOO compensation to his relatives. In the second case, the man had died from in i juries received when he tried to [light a fire with the aid of petrol.

The second “spirit” pointed out that he belonged to the same Sepik tribe as the other deceased, but his relatives had received no com pensation. If one life was valued at £lOO, why not the other?

The ghostly proposition was: £lOO to be paid by the people of the compound (where the petrol disaster occurred), or the two [“spirits” would kill somebody else.

For a week the spirit-financiers haunted the surrounding jungle, re ceiving food from a boy who, acted as go-between.

But when the allotted time was up, there was no £lOO.

When darkness fell, one of the alleged spooks threw a stone towards a young houseboy to at tract his attention and then beckoned to him. The boy, wisely, opened his mouth as wide as it would go and yelled blue murder.

Everybody within earshot, in cluding the District Forestry Officer and the sawmill manager, rushed to the spot and the “spirits” were chased. But they vanished in the 8 o’clock darkness.

They were sighted next night and, it is believed, lurked in the district for a time, whilst most people prudently remained indoors at night.—“TOLAl.”

Health From The Sea

ONE of the best aids to con valescence in the island of Mangaia is the peculiar reef Weed, like tear-drop green beads, called rimu. It is the food of ocean turtles, which occasionally visit the island. [ The rimu is in long strings of thousands of minute bladders, each full of fluid which appears to be something more than plain sea water. Patients weak from long ill ness recover their vigour very

vX: able vitamfn y 1)05568865 a valu The taste is strongly bituminous as well as salty, and is not attractive to Europeans.

As a sandwich filling, however, it adds zest to other ingredients, and is a remarkable promoter of the appetite. It must, of course, be used fresh, all medicinal properties leaving it when dry.—E. GOLD mrvTvj’m ua oottat

But It Didnt Happen

EIGHTY-SIX years ago, in September, 1869, a group of Europeans at Levuka were trying unsuccessfully to link Fiji to the United States.

This was an interlude in the long campaign to persuade Great Britain to annex Fiji. At the third time of asking—by Ratu Cakobau and other high chiefs—the islands became a British Crown Colony in 1874.

September, 1869, the Levuka Ttmes r-eecrclecl that “upwards 10C >9 f principal residents in the Fiji Group” had signed a petition to the President of the United States praying that the pro tection of the Government at Washington be extended over the ‘Local Self-Government of Fiji ”

The report continued: “The United Spates Consul here has expressed a hope that the boon asked for may be granted, and has certified to his recognition amongst the numbers of the petitioners men of respectability and property, who were bona fide residents of the country likely to have the general good of Fiji at heart.

“It is, we believe, the intention of the movers in the matter to get the petition extensively signed, both in Sydney and Melbourne, and then to send it to its destination.

“The Vunivalu (Thakombau) has likewise expressed approval of the movement, and intends to address the American Government in sup port of the prayer of the petition.”

Soon afterwards, however, the Vunivalu adopted the title of Tui Viti (King of Fiji), and the short lived Fijian monarchy ran its course.

Even after the Deed of Cession had been signed by the Chiefs and Queen Victoria’s representative (Sir Hercules Robinson) on October 10,

1874, certain Europeans remained disgruntled, particularly when the redoubtable Sir Arthur Gordon, as Governor, flatly refused to let the indigenous people be relegated to the status of general cheap-labour in their own country. Despite the specific terms of the Deed of Cession, there was more than one fruitless attempt to have Fiji at tached to either New South Wales or New Zealand.

Skipper’S Unofficial

Record.

EXTRACTS from a letter by the skipper of a small-ship some where in Papuan waters; “My cook is asleep and life is full of trouble, but after the storm one appreciates the glories of the tropical sunrise. The sea is flat as a board; there is no rain and no wind. . .

Just a minute, though. There is also no power and no fuel.

“I blow through the pipe. What’s the Papuan word for ‘blow’? I can’t

remember, and have to devise an alternative: ‘Fill ’im up belly belong wind behind you push ’im ’e go one time alia same’.

“I blow in the engine boy’s face.

He catches on and blows in mine.

This goes on for some time, and I lose the battle.

“Ultimately, I grab the end of the fuel pipe, and, absorbing quantities of fuel, start to blow. At this the engineer is inspired to blow at the other end, with astonishing results.

The engineer says, ‘Sorry, taubada.’

But the line is clear—one of us pre sumably having swallowed the blockage.

“And so we carry on. . .

“I remember the occasion when, sailing about 200 yards offshore at Fergusson Island, we sighted what looked like a turtle bobbing in the water, but it turned out to be a wallaby.

“Off went a member of the crew in the dinghy and, after several at tempts, managed to haul it in, tail first.

“Out went the wallaby, and the performance was repeated, followed by an -all-out struggle, both con testants showing grim determina tion. By the time the boy was flat on his back, still holding the tail of the furiously-plunging wallaby (based on the boy’s stomach), the dinghy was half-full of water and the rest of the crew, plus the cap tain, were too hysterical to do any thing about it.

“Whenever the boy tried to rise he was promptly flattened by MS' opponent.

“Eventually, two more of the crew recovered sufficiently to swim over and save the situation. . .

“How did the wallaby come to be 200 yards out at sea? I don’t know. Probably it had been chased by dogs and then caught in the ebb-tide.” —LW.

Specialist In Fear

WHAT would go on in a Pacific Island village threatened by an atomic cloud?

This question is studied by M.

Georges Arnaud in an unfinished film script which he has been writ ing in Tahiti.

En route from Tahiti to France in mid-August, M. Arnaud said at Sydney that he did not at present intend to complete the story be cause he was “sick of pens and typewriters.”

He disclosed, however, that the cloud moved away without harming the village—the theme was purely a study of the fear aroused by the cloud’s appearance.

M. Arnaud, who plans to return to Tahiti in March, is something of a specialist in fear. He achieved international fame with his story for the brilliant French film, Wages of Fear, a thriller about the emotional reactions of lorry drivers travelling on precipitous South American roads with cargoes of nitro-glycerine.