Neglected, Under Populated Pitcairn

Adapted from an editorial In the October issue of “Pitcairn Miscellany”—just arrived In Sydney

Some time ago we saw an educational film about life at the South Pole. The emphasis was on the isolated and lonely existence of the members of the winter party. Here on Pitcairn we think they have it good down there.

To begin with they know before they start that they will have a long spell with very little contact with the outside world and they plan and cater accord ingly. But what happens when a store ship is expected at six or seven weekly intervals and sud denly there is nothing for three and then four months? Not even word of a ship or a promise of one before five or six months have passed?

The South Pole winter party cannot tell you, but we can. We can also tell you what it is like to receive no mail for four months or so. No doubt many “Pitcairn Miscellany” readers have wondered why their letters, stamp orders, etc. have gone unanswered over recent months. The answer is, we have not received any letters to answer, and apparently cannot hope to do so for some time to come.

Pitcairners have endured long spells between ships in the past but it must be a long time since a scarcity of calling ships was combined with a scarcity of rain.

Consider the odd set of circumstances that have put the people of Pitcairn in the un enviable position of being able to claim, without much fear of contradiction, that they are one of the most isolated groups on earth.

The island is well known for its fertility, moderate tempera tures and ample rainfall, and the people make the most of these

natural blessings by working the soil. The gardens have always produced well. There have always been more than enough fruit and vegetables to meet the needs of everyone, and the local inhabitants have come to rely heavily on their gardens. And one cannot rely too greatly on outside sources when the basic wage is only 28 cents per hour.

The story this year is different.

It's now October and, apart from the odd passing shower, very little rain has fallen since July.

Spells of very dry weather have been experienced in the past.

However this drought coming during the winter months and the planting season is a more serious one, as we cannot expect much relief during the long hot summer months to come.

Most householders have had empty fresh water tanks for over two months and have been cart ing five-gallon lots of water from “Browns Water”—an insignificant but vital trickle in the bush a mile or so from the village—and 500 ft above it.

This is not only a monotonous pastime, but a very time-con suming one.

Entertainment is now at an all time low, as all films have been taken off the island. As no new ones arrived from NZ on the “Manapouri” because of the postal strike in NZ, we are now having to rely on educational films on loan from the school, and games evenings. While the schoolchildren appear to enjoy these evenings, which include volleyball, relays, corner ball and the like, the adults at present seem to prefer to stay at home, no doubt busy on souvenirs for the “big ship” of the year, the "Bergensfjiord”, due

here at the end of November. The schoolboys, however, have been making their own fun, and have been spending a lot of time sailing their canoes under canvas. Its hoped that a sailing race around the island will be organised soon.

Although we have endured a considerable brain-washing pro gramme, some of us still wonder if the bombs in our back-yard have not had something to do with the freak weather conditions.

Cynics and the brain-washed may laugh, but more than one reputable scientist believes that such disturbances do have a con siderable effect on the weather.

Who are we to question the knowledgeable when the proof seems to be on our doorstep?

No water, no garden, no food.

Fortunately the position is not as bad yet as it could be. People who live in out of-the-way places, usually lay in good supplies against hard times and this is just what we have done. However, such sup plies are not inexhaustible, and heavy demands have been made upon them during the past few weeks.

What about all the ships that pass Pitcairn Island? They are of no help. It’s the ones that stop that count —and in particular the scheduled callers carrying mail and supplies. These are becoming fewer and further apart.

The position with mail here would be laughable if it was not so ridiculous and frustrating. We have received no mail from NZ, Australia and the UK since July and none from the US since May.

In 1968 a Co-operative was formed on Pitcairn to help ease the food situation caused by fewer supply ships. However, working on the very small financial margin

fcti/ it does, our store has been I Poking like “Old Mother Hub bard’s cupboard” for some time now.

When stores do eventually arrive the goods will hardly hit the shelves before they are whisked away and then we will be back where we started with probably another long stretch before us of empty shelves and no replace ments.

The last store ship from New Zealand arrived early in July and the last supply ship from the UK brought no supplies at all. No one here, in NZ or anywhere ap parently, has any idea when our next store ship will arrive. Our claim to isolation is based largely on the fact that no-one appears to have the interest, the authority or the ability to remedy the position by arranging for a ship to call.

IPitcairn, 1,200 acres, has a population of less than 90.]