Tropicalities

Pacific Islands Monthly

Magazine Section

A Scot Named Vokotini I VOKOTINI, who is going rong as one of four Maori embers representing Raro in the Cook Islands’ Legis- Assembly, hasn’t changed his since his election last October, i”, as always, takes a close st in the affairs of the Maoris elected him one of their ;men. In fact, his forthright as continued to make him not y popular with some of the Brass of the Cooks, a point apparently worries “Viri” not Vokotini is in fact Mr. m H. Watson, founder and executive of United Island rs Ltd., who was born not in "ooks but in County Fife, nd. he has lived in the Cooks for ,rs, and is the Cooks’ biggest 5 employer of island labour, r as he is concerned it was re or less a natural thing m to stand for a Maori seat, ibviously the islanders think >, because they swept him in ) of the poll. lie”, as he is known, spent

some of his early life in Queens land, Australia, and was under 21 when elected to the Rockhampton Shire Council. For seven years he was a member of the Rarotonga Island Council and the Cook Islands Legislative Council.

A Space Watcher

ANOTHER Cook Islands business man of note is Mr. F. M.

Bateson, who represents the 167 European residents in the Cooks.

But when he is not looking after his business and political interests he works at a hobby which has won him a certain amount of local and overseas fame—that of astronomy.

Mr. Bateson has a private observatory in Rarotonga, and re cently equipped it with a new 16 in. telescope, and is now waiting on some extra equipment from America.

He visited America not long ago, and gave scientific lectures there.

Currently, he is working on a programme involving the observa tion of Jupiter, and one of his pur poses is to see if there are any visual markings at the seat of radio transmissions which radio astronomers have picked up from that planet. He is w<prking in con junction with US radio astronomers on this.

An Error in Geography ANOTHER memory of Police De partment days in Fiji, /rorra Police Inspector (retired) Charles Wager, now a resident of

Queensland:

I was sitting in my little office at the Ba Station, Namosau when in walked Jack Ryan, well known and well-loved hard-case, who did a lot of contract work for the I* iji

Works Department.

“Where,” said he, am I to build these three rooms?”

“What three rooms? said I.

“Oh, for God’s sake, wake up said Jack. “Three rooms constables: verandah in the front, and kitchens in the rear You are to show me where to put them. And get a move on —I want to unload my punts and get them out of th creek on this tide.” H p I knew, of course, I wasn t due for any new buildings—much as I wanted them—but, un der pressure like that, what was a man to I duly chose a suitable spot tor a very welcome addition to my

station accommodation.

By some peculiar lapse of memory I quite forgot to mention the new building in my monthly report; and it was months later when Com missioner McOwan, on a tour of in spection, suddenly caught sight of them and said, “What the hell’s that?”

Now, Mac wasn’t given to swear ing—I think it was the only time I ever heard him cuss—and I was battling to keep a straight face when I replied, “Three new rooms for Indian constables, sir.”

“Where did you get ’em?” he almost screamed; and, when I started my story about Jack Ryan, he said: “Gimme your Estimates!

Gimme your Estimates.”

I handed him my copy and he exclaimed bitterly: “Thought so!

Should have been built at Nadi”— which, as everybody knows, is about 60 miles up the coast.

It's a New Kind of

Cargo-Cult

WE were talking about the multi plicity of missions (always a favourite topic in New Guinea) and more particularly about some of the odder varieties that have settled in the Highlands.

Jim Leahy said: “I was up at Mt.

Hagen visiting Danny (his brother), and there was one of this mob there —had been there for a fort night, waiting, he said, for some cargo to turn up. , “Danny’s a bit deaf, and didn t get what was going on, but after a few more days I said to this chap: ‘Don’t you think you’d better make some inquiries and see what’s happening to this cargo of yours?

Something must have slipped up.’

“ ‘Oh,’ says the bloke, ‘we didn t send for anything. We just expect the Lord will provide!’” (Over)

[?]teson, Cook Islands' businessman, who [?]known as an amateur astronomer of note.

Viri Vokotini, Cook Islands' old-timer, who is better known as businessman William Watson.

‘‘That’s the crowd!” chipped in the airline agent. “When they first came they used to turn up every day and ask if there was any freezer for them. There never was, and after a bit I told them they better make some inquiries down below, as I couldn’t understand why their meat was never sent. They said: ‘We haven’t ordered anything. We just thought someone might send something.’ ” —JT

Nice Work If You

Can Get It THERE is one Suva resident who is in no doubt about the advances the Fijians have made in only a few generations.

In February he was stopped in the street by a smooth Fijian gentle man, who opened up the following conversation.

“Good morning, Sir. I and two friends came into this city this morning and after doing our shopping and visiting a few friends, decided to have a few drinks.”

“Oh yes,” said the perplexed resident, wide eyed.

“Unfortunately, Sir, we met up with some snookers (bodgies) at the hotel, and one thing led to another, and before we knew where we were we accompanied one to his home.

“Well, Sir, they gave us something to drink which smelled very much like a liquid my old mother used to light our fire with.

“After the third drink I don’t know what happened, but I remember I was walking down Toorak Road towards the city without my friends.

“After making investigations to the best of my physical ability at the time, I found that my two collegues had been picked up by the police. They were taken to the cells to sleep off their condition.

“I then learned that the snookers had taken my friends’ wallets and that the whole thing had been a trick. ‘‘Two powers within me were pulling, Sir. One kept telling me how comfortable a nice soft bed at Sanaila’s was, and the other kept repeating something about the

fourth Scout law, ‘Brotherhoodb All .

“I had to get to the police stat in a reasonably sober condit;J otherwise I risked finding myselt. the cells with my brotherhood ; being able to do nothing for thri “I was determined to put on< brave front and found my waw the station.

“When I arrived there, I foirc that I, too, had had my was stolen and that I was in no co dition to bail my friends out.

“I looked at that desk sergese Sir, and thought of the fouu Scout law. But I realised that j wasn’t a Scout and would be o missed anyway if he started doo favours for the mataqali (tribe ).( “I walked out blindly not knor mg where I was going till I saw y Sir. The purpose of this convern tion is to tell you that I am on way to my village in Tailevu i get some money to bail my frieie out.

“The bus fare is 5/- and I wondering if you will give so; slight consideration- to lending this sum. I shall meet you in markets next week when I bn. my dalo in to sell and shall ren you then.”

The resident was stunned. “I not in the habit of lending mo:c to strangers”, he said.

“Thank you very much, Sir,” ss the Fijian politely, and ati excusing himself, walked a wan Reg.

Snakes Alive!

PORT MORESBY snake expp Ken Slater (whose work v described in January PIM) S 3 two giant olive pythons to Taror Park Zoo, in Sydney, in Februai He had intended to send only onn 12 ft 6 in.—and was in the mih of loading it into the Bulolo February 5 when somebody tf him that natives working for Forestry Department at the Broo- River, just outside of Port Morese had caught another olive pytlh —this one 16 ft 5 in.! So Slasi speedily and happily packed 1 second crate.