SUMMER IN SOUTH SEAS

Southland Times, Issue 20147, 6 April 1927, Page 9

SUMMER IN SOUTH SEAS

RECOLLECTIONS OF ISLAND TRIP

(By GORDON REED.)

Tropic seas—fringing reefs—swaying palms—inter-island cutters —coral—beche-de-nier; all this and other mysteries galore; what pictures they conjure up! And these are simply indicative to a small and limited extent of the varied life you will see when you journey as the writer recently journeyed among some of the Island groups of the South Seas. You who have been shut among your books for months past, you who have been busied with some other branch of life, each and everyone of you must inevitably feel the allurement of these Islands of the Pacific and the South Seas. For'it is there you will find the tropic warmth, the tropic wealth of plant, the tropic profusion of peoples, the general spaciousness and natural liberality of this most picturesque of ocean’s

When one is planning a trip to the South Sea Islands, times and seasons play an important part. In all probability, the best season of the year to visit those parts is in what we know in a general sort of way as our winter months in New Zealand. To plan a trip there in midsummer, or rather in December and January, is immediately looked upon as very considerable foolishness by those who have already visited the Islands. But with a certain amount of luck doubtless, December and January can give one just as pleasant a trip around the Islands as any other season of the year.

A journey there at the particular months mentioned forboded all sorts of dire results, one was told. There was in the first place the inevitability of the hurricane. Tour good ship would doubtless be blown ashore on some isolated reef and you along with the other unfortunates aboard would probably experience a lingering hungry death on the coral with the ravening tropic sharks watching and waiting all the while. If perchance you were fortunate enough to miss the hurricane, then there would be without any possible shadow of doubt the rain, for this in

surety is the rainy season for the Islands. You would never see anything ashore, everything would be awash from the tropical downpours, any clothes you might bring out to withstand the torrential waters would be absolutely useless, and you would probably be ultimately drowned by a breaking cloudburst. If the wind and rain refused to do their worst, then there was always the tropic sun to play its part in the general demolition. The Islands were pictured as being places torrid even in our winter months. But in mid-summer, the oldest inhabitant had his grisly frame made more grisly yet, every bit of constituent fat in his body dried and became more dry still, the very morrow in his bones left its accustomed haunts hollow and empty, and the whole frame and body of such an one was generally steamed, baked and roasted according as to whether the day broke clear or cloudy. And if all these weather elements were still unavailing in their efforts to bring your scheme to nought, the mournful philosopher would finish up his gloomy prognostications by pointing out that you were going anyway in the wrong season. Be that as it may, a voyage around the South Seas in December and January just past, even granted there was a considerable amount of luck about it all forces one to the conclusion that these

months are by no means the most unpleasant to visit these very beautiful parts.

On Friday, December 31, 1926, the Union Steamship Company’s steamer “Tofua” left Auckland for her monthly trip around Fiji, Tonga and Samoa. This being the last day of the Old Year, it was inevitable that the firemen should show their independence by holding up the ship until well past, sailing time. She was due to leave Auckland at 11 a.m. but did not get her full complement of firemen until well on to 1 p.m. There were races the same day in the city and the last one or two firemen were gathered in at the course and hurried down to the boat in cars. And all the while in spite of these little troubles the morning was gloriously sunny for the start of the trip, a happy forerunner of many more delightful days on the voyage.

The “Tofua” is a splendid boat for the work in which she is engaged, being specially fitted up for travelling in ll the tropics. She is of 4345 tons, and is of about the same size as the “Moeraki” or “Manuka.” She has an advantage over these boats, however, inasmuch as the “boat deck, which on many of the Union Company’s boats is closed to passengers, is used for deck games, thus adding a large amount of space for use by the passengers. Most of the cabins are situated on the shade deck immediately below. The boat is supplied with a refrigerating plant, as so much of the foodstuff used aboard is brought from Auckland and has to last for the trip. Apparently at none of the Islands touched at during the voyage is fresh food brought aboard, with the possible exception of fruit. The cabins are generally comfortable and roomy. All are supplied with fans, a very necessary part of the equipment in the latitudes touched on during the trip. The writer was making the trip in company with Mr Gus. Tapper of this town. But before the preliminary journey Vo Auckland had been completed, the circle of acquaintances had been very considerably widened. At Timaru station, in conversation with Mr John McKay who used to live in these parts sometime at Wyndham, the writer was informed that a relative of his was travelling by the same boat to Samoa, and this young lady we ultimately met on the voyage. She was a Miss Thwaites who at one time had been nursing in Invercargill Hospital and was now going over to take up a position in Apia Hospital in Samoa. The chief engineer came along the deck some little while before the boat started and turned out to be Mr Griffiths who had been chief on the “Moeraki” in a voyage to Australia the previous year. In purchasing some photo films in an Auckland pharmacy, and in specifying airtight tins for tropical use, it turned out that the proprietor’s daughter was likewise voyaging to the South Seas and ultimately an introduction followed. This young lady was journeying to Apia to stay with a relative of her’s, Judge Woodward, of Samoa. And so the circle of acquaintances grew until before the boat had properly cleared New Zealand, the passengers on her had become as one largo and very happy family. But all this time, people aboard are fretting and fuming at the delay caused by the firemen’s holiday. On board there are quite a number of natives going back to the Islands and on the wharf are numbers of natives to farewell these voyagers. Of course as is only natural in view of the direction of the ship’s run, the boat right through the voyage has aboard a considerable number of Islanders. On this particular voyage the passengers were all a very happy crowd. There were several young Australians on holiday, and before the trip had proceeded very far, it was quite apparent that everybody aboard was intent on making the trip a thorough going straight out holiday. The “Tofua” was under the command of Captain Duncan Macdonald who was on his second trip in command of this particular vessel. The captain was a most approachable fellow whose aim and object seemed to be to ensure that everyone aboard should have a happy and pleasant trip in keeping with the season of the year. The ship has a gramophone aboard, and practically every night at- sea, this was requisitioned for the purpose of dancing on the boat deck. A great deal of dancing was indulged in aboard the ship. Most of the passengers danced, the seas were calm and did not mar things in that direction, the nights were certainly warm, but even these did not make dancing unpleasant. Life on the “Tofua” from Auckland to Suva was like shipboard life anywhere pise. The warm sunny days were spent in deck

games, the warm tropic nights in dancing and music. There was deck cricket, in which (he writer’s companion, while keeping wicket apparently not so well as he should have been, sustained some very apparent injury to his ankle. Then there was deck golf, which, however, was rather a species of deck croquet, deck tennisf and various other pastimes such as quoits and the like. After the ship is about a day out from Auckland, a large canvas awning is set above the boat deck as otherwise the warm sun would make it rather difficult playing here during the day. The officers of the ship about the second day out appear in white uniforms and as this is taken as a sort of general direction to all aboard, the passengers gradually appear in white suits. The weather has been gradually getting warmer and warmer. There is not now so much energy displayed in deck games, and many of the passengers are content to take no more active exercise than that of reading in a dilatory sort of fashion. Ice creams served on the deck about 11 a.m. each morning are particularly acceptable, but so far as ices are concerned, splendid ice creams were served right throughout the voyage.

A day out from Auckland a whale was sighted; his frequent spoutings were followed for a considerable distance, and ultimately were lost on the horizon. Shortly too, flying fish were seen. As the steamer ploughed her way through the sunlit seas, shoals of these fish would be disturbed, and would shoot away over the tops of the waves for quite a considerable distance. These fish are not particularly large and at a distance would seem to be somewhat of the size of an ordinary New Zealand mullet. Many of their flights would reach to perhaps a hundred yards, but some flights would be longer still. The fish at no stage would rise to a very great elevation above the water, but would dash from crest to crest of the waves in its flight. Hereabouts, it was divulged aboard that the ship had something in (he nature of a stowaway in the steerage aft. Apparently, in the excess of zeal to get aboard and work the ship, one of the firemen had dragged one of his shore friends aboard with him. Both had been in such a blissful state at the time that the idea of leaving New Zealand for an involuntary trip to the Fijis did not seriously disturb the visitor. However, before the ship had got very far away, he realised that he had left for a holiday in the South Seas, and was only stopped from jumping overboard and endeavouring to reach the wharf at Auckland by the earnest physical persuasion of his sometime friends. He had money enough in his possession however to pay his fare so that the Union Company would not be out of pocket by the trip.

The seas around the Dominion have a | colour familiar to all of us. But a day or two from Auckland they assume a colour 1 never seen around these shores. They become intensely blue, the deep rich blue of an over-saturated blue tub. There is a marked absence of sea birds, and this absence of bird life extends right throughout the waters we subsequently travelled among, and even to the Islands themselves. It is Tuesday night at sea. The pleasing intelligence is passed around that shortly on this same evening the Fiji Islands should begin to show up. The evening is warm and calm. Earlier in the evening just at sundown, a wonderful tropical sunset had been witnessed. The sun had set in a blaze of red, the billowy red clouds had been painted a gaudy brightness and the red ocean wastes had swallowed up the sinking glory. This we were told was a typical Fijian sunset, and on other occasions we were fortunate enough to see sunsets almost equally gaudy. As usual the night had been devoted to dancing aboard. The ordinary round had been varied in that this particular evening was a fancy dress affair, and many and varied were the impromptu costumes indulged in by the passengers. Some of the passengers going to the Islands for a fairly lengthy stay seemed to have laid in a stock of make up and fancy costumes for such functions, and for that reason there was no particular dearth of costumes, some , ( of which were really very good indeed. And about nine o’clock the first of the Islands looms up. This consists of a high mountainous mass, at no very great distance away, the Island of Khandavu. The mountain mass is Mount Washington, and at the Northern end of the Island is a lighthouse. 'Tliose aboard are all eagerness to view this, the first piece of land seen for days. The Island is of considerable extent, and flickering lights can be seen along the coast, lights which one of the passengers who knows Fiji points out as the lights of various native villages scattered along the

coasts. Soon however the Island drifts away to southward. Islands that pass on the voyage and ships that pass in the night exercise a peculiar fascination. On the previous evening, the ship had been granted the pleasing sight of the Aorangi en route from Suva to Auckland. It had been just after dinner on the Monday evening, the early tropic night had just fallen, and suddenly on the forward horizon a topmast light had shown up. The courses of the two boats were in absolute line. Our boat’s course had to be altered ever so little, so that these mailboats that passed on the ocean highw*—-• might come and go without delay. It was certainly a most beautiful sight to watch the big Union motor ship pass away towards New Zealand on her southern voyage. She was a mass of lights right to the water’s edge. She passed the Tofua at a distance of about half a mile, dipped and plunged somewhat in the darkening waters, and in a very short space of time merged away into the southern horizon.

Khandavu is about sixty miles from Suva. Next morning therefore we should be in Suva harbour and right in the midst of the Fiji Islands. And so, after five days of glorious weather, to bed with great expectations of the morrow.

Most aboard are up betimes ncxUmorning to investigate this harbour we arc doubtless in by now. The scene revealed is a most beautiful one. Our ship lies out some way from shore in a circling green-girt harbour. Here we are in the first harbour of the Island of Viti Levu, Suva itself. The skyline is particularly striking. Everywhere there are high broken hills, and sharp jagged pinnacles in all directions. Nowhere do you see well ordered foothills with the majestic mountains behind. These obtrusive jagged peaks seem to form the island. One peak is particularly striking. Later we find that it is known as Joskes Thumb. It is a sheer precipitous peak giving every appearance of inaccessibility. One can easily credit the accounts given of attempts, some successful, .others unsuccessful to reach the top of this eminence. These broken hills are all covered with the deepest of green vegetation, a vegetation that covers the whole face of the island as seen from the ship until broken by the town of Suva immediately in front. Our ship has not come up to the wharf yet. Medical inspection is necessary before a landing can be made. The doctor is already aboard, as one of the steerage passengers had been latterly having a very bad time indeed with asthma, and a medico had been specially wirelessed for the previous night. Indeed at one stage of the trip, the general opinion was that the poor fellow who in his asthmatical condition must have been feeling the heat of the tropical nights intensely, even in spite of the fact that he had been sleeping on deck, would scarcely survive the remaining hours until Suva was reached. Two nursing sisters aboard had been requisitioned, and had spent the night with the unfortunate sufferer. However, the patient was taken to Suva Hospital immediately upon arrival of the boat, and seemed to be well on his way to recovery before the boat finally left for Ton<ra. , (To be Cqntiuued.)