LIFE ON CANTON

Evening Post, Volume CXXVII, Issue 61, 14 March 1939, Page 16

LIFE ON CANTON

TROPIC ISOLATION

PACIFIC OCEAN OUTPOST

Life on Canton Island has few thrills. There is a novelty about it for the first few days, but after that each day is the same, and weeks and months pass in a timeless monotony. "We get a mail and supplies twice a year, and we listen in to radio stations thousands of miles away," said Mr. G. Langdale, acting administrative officer at the island, who arrived in Auckland last week on extended leave, reports the Auckland "Star." "Otherwise the isolation is complete." He should know, for he was one of the first men to start housekeeping there just about sixteen months ago, and until he left Canton last month he had seen nothing but a limitless horizon, a few coconut palms, an occasional mail liner, or a puff of smoke in the distance, a warship from. New Zealand which brought the mail, countless seabirds, some mice, and — his companions. He yawned. He had almost forgotten his companions. They had become so much a part of the solitude that he had long ago taken them for granted. Now it seemed strange to think of them far away up there near ! the Equator, while he was, for a while, though only for a couple of months, once more in touch with civilisation. POPULATION OF SEVEN. Good fellows? Yes. He had no complaint about his companions. One Englishman and a native, who had been there more than a year, and four Americans, who arrived about twelve months ago. They had soon learned to live together in a comradely way, and under the tropical sun all dressed much alike—which meant as scantily as possible—and all acquired a deep bronze tan, which seemed to efface nearly all differences in personal appearance. The life of a Robinson Crusoe on a tropic isle was, one must agree, lonely and uneventful. . • . Mr. Langdale, however, had a purpose in living there, and so had his mates, but of that he could not speak. He merely ventured the hint that people who knew Canton as nothing more than a spot on the map knew more about its history, significance, and future importance than those who, for a time, were keeping vigil there. Most of what he had learned about it, he said, was contained in newspapers and clippings brought to the island in the six-monthly mails. Of photographs he had dozens, taken in the island solitude; and they all confirmed his remarks about Canton's solitude. The palms were leaning in the wind, the swell of the sea broke in a thin white fringe on the low-lying shore, and only a few buildings, a plinth containing the British flag, and a small lighthouse, stood as evidence of habitation. FUTURE OCEAN AIRPORT. Yet this uninviting spot, .almost barren of vegetation, ■is destined to become, in the near future, a place of importance on one of the great air routes of the world, spanning the vast Pacific, and huge air Clippers, carrying up to 50 or more passengers, and British flying-boats of mammoth size, will make Canton a regular port of call. Then, overnight, its isolation will be gone. Pioneering under the urge of modern progress can be, one reflects, a very brief experience. This may have occurred to Mr. Langdale, but he was not to be drawn. With what feelings he would welcome the arrival of birdmen one could only surmise. Meanwhile, there was a job to be done. If one would engage him in a discussion on Canton, the conversation must be on other topics—birds, mice, or fish. And, talking of birds, he was quite candid that Canton was one of the least interesting of islands. No bird which knew much about tropic islands would waste its time there. No, Canton was not even the shadow of a bird sanctuary, and if one's fancy turned to the study of birds, why there were such beauty spots as Christmas Island, which were the homes of thousands. So from whatever angle one looked at Canton, it was, at the moment, a most uninspiring place.