IN THE ISLANDS.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIX, Issue 21224, 2 July 1932, Page 1 (Supplement)

IN THE ISLANDS.

SOUTH SEA MEMORIES.

BY LONEHANDEU

In a previous article I mentioned leaving the island of Porapora, one of the Society Group, on a pearl-fishing expedition with a party of Penrhyn Islanders. These unfortunate peoplo had come years previously, having been engaged to work on a cotton plantation at Tahiti with the understanding that when the stipulated time of service expired they would be taken back home again, but their employer ignored this part of the contract and left them to shift for themselves. It was dishonourable treatment such as this that made the natives hard to deal with and no doubt had much to do with the loss of many valuable lives.

1 was born on what an old-time whaler called a " hen frigate " —that is, a whaling ship on which the skipper carried his wife and family and made the ship a home, so practically one part of the world was as good as any other part if the whales were there. My mother, when telling us of her experiences on the sea, often said that the Islanders were all right if they were properly treated, and that she and her children had on many occasions stayed all day on some of the islands that were afterward not safe to go near without being well armed. I have heard many other old voyagers say much the same. However, to go back to the pearlfishers, these people agreed with my father to dive for enough pearl-shell to pay for their passage back to Penrhyn Island, and whatever additional shell they were able to collect before he was ready to take them home lie would pay thein for. I was present when the covenant was made, and I know that it was kept. Sixty-five years have slipped by since then, yet I remember quite well the day we left the harbour of Otea, on the west side of Porapora, bound for Mopelia, or Mapiha, as it was known to the natives. Deft Fishing.

The wind was fair and a strong current running through the passage in the reof soon took us to the open sea. There we saw a real South Sea picture. Two big double canoes and a number of single ones were paddling and sailing through immense schools of fish, while the native fishermen hooked albacore and bonito as fast as they could handle their tackle, and there was no question about their dexterity at that. Although their gear appeared a bit clumsy to us it was highly effective, as was evident when one of the double canoes came alongside and the natives traded part of their catch for tobacco, matches and other small articles of trade, and still had many more fish left in the canoe.

While we were chatting with the natives they told us that it was a good day for fishing because there were no swordfish worrying the fish, and the wind, blowing from the right quarter (north-east), brought more feed to the surface than was usual with other winds. These remarks came to mind when I had more experience of the Pacific, and I believo the natives were right in what they said about the warm winds having something to do with the food supplies of deep-water fish, for I have noticed more large flocks of birds about during northerly weather than was the case with winds from the opposite direction. Anyway, 1 know from experience how quickly a few swordfish can spoil the appetite of a school of albacore.

Shortly after we left the natives to their fishing tho wind freshened, and after three days' battling with contrary winds wo arrived at the spot where Mopefe was said to be, but our chart, an old one, was evidently many miles out, for the sea was bare in every direction and it took two days' hard searching before we came up to the misplotted island. Then to our dismay we found that the only entrance into the lagoon was through what Count von Luckner fifty years later called a boat passage, and that is about the right name for it, for the passage was not navigable tinder sail. Nature's Bounty.

However, with the assistance of tho native divers, who swam with lines and secured them at various places in the course, we managed with these means to manoeuvre the vessel between rocks and round corners of tho reef until it was possible to use the sails. After that there was no trouble in reaching the island, which lies at the north end of the lagoon, and, the bottom being all sand, the vessel was allowed to run on until she fetched up about a cable's length from the. shore. Then came the landing, which was soon over, for our passengers quietly slipped over the side and swam to the beach, and the job was finished, for tho equipment of a native pearl-fisher in those days was only what Nature provided, and here was plenty.

The island was covered with coconu. 1 . trees loaded with fruit, and ripe nuts littered tho prouncl, while in places where the trees stood close together tho space between was choked with old nuts which had been falling for no one could tell how long. Evidently the island had not been visited for a long time or such a quantity would not have been there. Then there was the lagoon, which was safe for a supply of. fish, and the beaches had turtle and sea-birds for the taking. So tho pearl-fishers were all right so far as food was concerned. During our two days' stay at. the island tho spare space in the ship's hold was filled with coconuts, and on deck wo had all the turtle that there was room for, and having accomplished the object of the voyage wo onco more put to sea. In going seaward through the passage we had much less trouble, for there was an outward set of tho current that helped tho ship along. At this time wo had been two months away from our home, which was at Karotonga, and everybody was eager to get back. By noon the following day we were within a mile or so of the identical spot where the last vessel to leave Mopelia capsized some years previously, and strange to say she also was bound for the same destination as ourselves, and, further, it was from the captain of the lost, vessel that my father came to hear of the pearl-fishing grounds. Fate of the Sea Lark. The Sea Lark capsized and filled before the captain's wife and children, who were in the cabin, had time to escape. The vessel floated on end with part of tlie bowsprit out of water. The skipper and crew clung to the bowsprit while one of tho crew (a native) (lived and released tho ship's boat, into which the men forced tho skipper, otherwise he would have died there. Blackctt was the skipper's name, and perhaps there are some old-timers who will remember this happening. The boat that the crew of this ill-fated vessel had to escape in was only ten feet long and was bare of everything; not even a paddle, neither food nor water, but just their bare selves. For six days they drifted helplessly about, until they were seen bv the natives on Mangaia, who put off in a canoo and took them on shore. Mrs. Blackett had two children and their nurse with her when the Sea Lark settled down after filling, but they had no chance at all of getting out. This round trip from Rarotonga to Tahiti and back finished four days after we passed where the Sea Lark was lost. One of the first men I saw was one of flie native crew of Blackett's ill-fated ship.