A CRUISE THROUGH MELANESIA.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XV, Issue XVI, 19 October 1895, Page 476

A CRUISE THROUGH MELANESIA.

(by

LESLIE H. MOSES.)

AUCKLAND certainly presented an exceedingly gloomy and depressing appearance as we weighed anchor off the Queen street Wharf and steamed slowly down the pretty harbour, of which we are so rightly proud. A miserable drizzling rain was falling, and as the city and Parnell were passed they were almost completely obscured from view. The vessel on which we were travelling was a barquan-tine-rigged auxiliary steam yacht of some 200 tons, wellknown as the Melanesian Mission yacht ‘Southern Cross,’ and rounding the North Head all the canvas was set so as to enable her to feel the breeze. Towards sundown the rain ceased, and we could see the fast receding city in the distance, looking beautiful as the setting sun played on the still wet roofsof the buildings. We passed Tiri lighthouse at dusk and it was nearly midniaht when Mokohinau light was visible. Sunday dawned a beautiful day, and still steaming with all sail set, we left New Zealand away on the quarter soon after midnight. Before dawn half a gale was blowing, the * Cross ’ pitched and tossed and threw the water about in a decidedly uncomfortable manner. She, I believe. has always held the reputation of being an uncommonly lively and dirty craft, and certainly she did herself justice that day. We had very little sail set, and although the machinery was idle, she flew along before the wind at a fine pace. I will not dwell on what a miserable day it was for me, who experienced for the first time the wretched feeling of maf-rfe-zner. Being one of the crew, I was forced, need I say much against my inclination, to stay on deck throughout my watches. With Tuesday came a fine day, although the sea was still rough, and to skip uninteresting details Philip Island, just near Norfolk Island, was sighted at dusk on Thursday afternoon. It was 10 p.m. when we hove the ship to close under the lee of Philip Island, looking in the sombre darkness a forbidding uncanny mass of rock. For the remainder of the night we lay there, and when I came on deck in the morning we had just dropped the anchor off the famous settlement. The island from seawards looked extremely pretty ; it was covered with the pines which bear its name, and presented a very rugged and rocky coastline. The rather rare occurrence of a vessel lying in the offing had had its effect already, and even now little groups of islanders could be seen standing at the boat harbour and round the sheds which served as a covering for their whaleboats. Prominent among the primitive architecture which constituted the village was the gray cold-looking building which was once the harbour of so many desperate criminals. It was built in the Macquarie style, and was pierced in places to allowguns to protrude. On a little green hillock directly behind the boat harbour a flagstaff stood, and the flag which proclaimed an English-speaking people fluttered gaily from the halliards. By this time the crowd had launched their staunch little boats and were already pulling out over the choppy water toward our vessel. When they got

alongside the gangway we saw what a fine, sturdy set of men they were. They seem perfectly contented with their apparently lonely life, and in fact I am sure would not exchange theirs with ours. One of them remarked to me later in the day, with a proud air, that it didn’t matter what a man had been, as long as he was prepared to reform and work he was always welcome on their tiny sea-girt isle, and they were always willing to enable him to start. He told me that no liquor was allowed them unless with a doctor’s permit, and he attributed their present happiness greatly to its absence. The islanders wore dungaree jumpers and trousers (a variety of patches, but yet very neat and clean), and large rush hats. I must explain that Norfolk Island is a

regular sailor’s horror, there not being one snug anchorage, and the sailing craft having to shift from one bay to another as the wind demanded. We stayed in Sydney Bay all day, and towards evening we proceeded round to Anson Bay for the night. We had just settled down comfortably when, about 9 p.m., we were all summoned on deck. The wind had veered considerably, and great leaden clouds were moving swiftly across the sky. Soon the anchor was catted and fished, sail made, and the ‘ Cross ’ was standing straight out to sea. Right through the night it seemed to be one continual * ’Boutship,’ and I can safely say we were all glad when the day dawned with sunny sky and calm sea. We

steamed into Sydney Bay and watched the flagstaff, from whence, as is customary, signals would announce to us whether or not it was safe for us to anchor. None appearing, we steamed outside of Philip Island—a mass ot barren rock infested with rabbits and wild sea birds, and on which there was not one patch of vegetation to relieve the monotonous sombreness. In the early morning sunlight it appeared many coloured, but what little beauty it could boast of was counterbalanced when we noticed the rugged rocks round its base, over which, ever and anon, the mighty breakers hissed and roared. We passed a lovely bay which appears to be artificial, so perfectly is it shaped, and soon afterwards Cascade Bay, the only other landing besides the boat harbour in Sydney

Bay. Rounding a point we passed Anson Bay again, and then were off the settlement, and had soon anchored in response to the welcome signal which now fluttered from the hillock. As is usual, a good sea was running, and all the morning the cable was as taut as could be. It took us till noon putting the remainder of the stores ashore and getting the native boys’ boxes aboard, for each boy belonging to the Mission is given a small chest with his name painted on it, and we were to take some fifty of them home to their different islands. Shortly after noon the cable parted with a tremendous bang, and before we knew where we were or what had gone wrong the ship was drifting off a lee shore. It was but the work of a minute to rush on to the bridge and telegraph to the engine-room. Fortunately the engineer was below, and we soon steamed round the point towards Anson Bay, where we spent the remainder of the afternoon in bending a spare anchor on to the broken chain. Early on Sunday morning a large full-rigged ship hove in sight, and all day her courses were visible away on the horizon. In the afternoon a small schooner was seen, but darkness coming on, we lost sight of her. It was not till the next morning when we went round to Cascade Bay that we saw her anchored there. She proved to be the Sydney-owned Oscar Robinson, a small trader, and the only regular mail packet connecting this island with the outside civilised world. Again all day was spent in getting the natives’ goods ashore, and about five o’clock they themselves appeared coming towards the rocky land. A very picturesque sight it was—the women with their gay-coloured blouses and skirts, and the men with their blue trousers and shirts. Soon a boatload was embarked, and as it left the shore those still standing there cheered and waved to them as they departed. It was very comical to see them jump aboard and run apparently' everywhere at once. They evidently knew the run of the ship, and were just as much at home as if they were ashore 011 their own islands. Some swarmed and raced up the rigging, others spread themselves out on the jibboom and made a comfortable bed in the jibs, while a few stood on the main and mizzen crosstrees and waved vigorously to their friends ashore. They wore nothing on their heads whatever, but in their massive hair was stuck everything, from a pipe to a bunch of flowers. Altogether fifty were embarked, ami then the order ’ heave

away for’ard ’ was given us, and soon Norfolk Island was an indistinct shadow astern.

We had a smart though rather wet passage of four days, and early on Friday afternoon Ambrym and Mallicolo were passed, and afterwards our first place of call, Pentecost, was sighted. At sunrise we were close inshore, and then, for the first time, I beheld the beauties of the tropical world. Nowhere on the water was there so much as a ripple, and the deep green seemed to vie beautifully with the verdant hills. The land rose sheer from the water, and here and there along the slopes yam gardens could be seen. Soon a lot of dug-out canoes, propelled by the duky islanders, surrounded the ship. The men wore only a narrow strip of cloth or matting, and on their arms some ornaments of one kind and another. I felt as if I would never get tired, but after some of us had indulged in a swim the anchor was hove up and we steamed across the channel to Aoba. At 2 o’clock we were there, but I had not an opportunity of seeing it distinctly, as just then one of those wretched tropical showers hid the land from view. Waiting only till our boat, which had been sent ashore, returned, we proceeded to cross to Maewo, where we were to spend Sunday. At dusk we dropped the anchor off a large waterfall, which could be heard long before it was seen, and when I came on deck on Sunday I had an opportunity of seeing the island under more advantageous circumstances. It seemed hardly so fresh-coloured and attractive as Pentecos t The foliage was very dense, and with the exception of the bright green of the cocoanut palms, was almost uniformly sombre. The large waterfall before alluded to presented a very welcome relief. We saw no signs of life, and I was very glad when one of the missionaries volunteered to take some of us ashore to a village inland. I wore a pair of shoes, as my feet were rather unused to rough walking, but before I got back to the ship they were completely destroyed. The incessant rain had greatly swollen the falls and loosened the earth, so that we had a tough job to take care of ourselves. We had taken some of the native boys with us to lead the way, and we struck immediately into the bush. The solemn stillness that reigned everywhere was indeed aweinspiring, and the slightest snap of a dry twig seemed to resound. Although from seawards the foliage looked as I have al ■ ready described, when we got fairly into it the numerous coloured and shaped plants were iovely. We had hard work getting over the hill, and for the most part had to pull ourselves up by the protruding roots of plants and ferns, but when we at last got over the walking was much easier. Now

crossing over small but rapid rivulets, now trudging across half-submerged yam gardens, and now bending as some creeper blocked our way, it was no wonder that we were properly tired when we reached the little village. The grounds were covered with water, and on the dry patches round the orange and other trees huge pigs were leisurely feeding. Soon some natives came and invited us into the schoolroom, where we sat indulging in delicious oranges which were piled at our feet. The houses were carefully built of bamboo, and it was surprising how watertight they were. We were busily chatting among ourselves about

everything that interested us when a rather cracked bell commenced to toll, and slowly we were ushered from that building to another that served as a church. There was one aisle down the middle, and in one row of seats all the men were seated, while in the other sat the

women. The seats were to us, perhaps, more' uncomfortable than otherwise, for they were constructed of long pieces of stout bamboo fixed in two vertical forks. On the bare earth in front of us mats were spread to kneel on, and I am afraid the natives set us an example in devoutness. About three-quarters ot an hour had elapsed when the missionary who had brought us ashore (and who was conducting the service) asked us to leave for a while. So out we went into the muddy grounds and ‘gorged’ ourselves with oranges again. Alongside every orange tree was a very long bamboo pole, used by the natives to knock the fruit down, and it was

wonderful how dexterously the little boys handled them. Some time was spent in prying round, and then'we were disturbed by the natives coining out of church. The women of the village went to some trouble in cooking some cakes of native roots for us, but we could not for the life of us eat them. Rather than offend them we promised to take them on board and eat them at our leisure, lint we were very glad to dispose of them in any manner w e could. Early in th e afternoon we started back to the ship. It had been raining heavily, and the ground was even softer than before, and the pleasant, wollop, wollop,’ made by our feet informed us that our trousers would not be any the cleaner when we did get aboard, which was destined to be later than we anticipated, for the boys who were leading, in trying a short cut, bad made a mistake, and they themselves had to own that it was a very long cut indeed. After a couple of hours circumnavigation we luckily struck the waterfall, amt soon were safely aboard, not much the worse for our day’s sport, but thoroughly tired out and covered with mud and decayed vegetable matter from head

to foot. All day Monday, assisted by the boys, we were busy watering the ship, and early on Tuesday morning left for Aoba again. All day we stood on and off. About noon a steamer s smoke was seen ascending above a point, and soon the vessel herself rounded and approached us. She was the A. U.S.N. Co.’s trader Croyden, of Brisbane, and by her we had an opportunity ol writing home. At dusk our engines were started and the vessel's head turned towards Mera Lava, the nearest of the Bank s Group, ami the New Hebrides were left astern. Early in the morning we arrived there, but there being no anchorage whatever, we had to stand on and off. The first thing that strikes you is the unusual sheerness of

this island, which rises almost perpendicularly from the water’s edge to a great height. The island is almost perfectly round, and is quite conical, while all round perpendicular ridges run the whole height of the land. For this reason the appropriate name, * Star Island,’ is more generally given it. After putting some boxes ashore, together with their owners, we left at io a.m. for Merei, a small rock inhabited by very few people. At noon we arrived there, and immediately left for Santa Maria, a very large island. It was dusk when we entered the reef, and proceeding round a point, we anchored off a small village at 8 p.m. The steam whistle was blown, and immediately the hills resounded with excited voices trying to mimic it ; in fact, wherever we blew that whistle the natives always shrieked in imitation.

Up to io o’clock the boats were plying backwards and forwards, and early on the following morning we steamed round Santa Maria and shaped a course for Vanua Lava. It was sundown when we arrived there, and we anchored for the night. Some of the crew indulged in a swim, and then the evening was passed with the accordeon until nearly n p.m., when we ‘turned in.’ The next morning we weighed anchor and steamed for Mota, the headquarters of the Melanesian Mission, and left soon after noon for Mota Lava, a very pretty island. In the foreground was the dazzling white beach over which the orange groves threw their welcome shade, and away in the background a great overhanging cliff made a striking contrast. We steamed about outside the reef while the boat went ashore with some boys we were to leave there, and then, at about half past four, we returned to Vanua Lava, reaching there at dusk. Early on the next morning we left for Ureparapara, and anchored inside a snug harbour, which was almost completely land-locked, and surrounded by high and steep hills. This harbour had, we were told, once been the crater of a great volcano, so it was hardly surprising that we took a great interest in this scene, evincing, as it did, the wonderful work of Nature. It being Saturday afternoon, we got everything ship-shape ready for Sunday, during which some of us again went ashore. On Monday morning the anchor was weighed, and getting outside of the cove, the choppy sea began to make itself felt. A course was shaped for the Torres Group, and next day at noon saw us anchored at Ababa. These islands seem to be of entirely coral formation, being very low-lying, and rather scantily wooded. We indulged in a swim to try and get cool, and had some fine fun with the natives, who succeeded in amusing us by jumping from the fore-yard-arm, diving under the ship, and performing various other feats, in consideration of which we in return gave them each a little bit of tobacco, or ‘ tabak ’ as they preferred to province it. At 3 p.m. we were again under weigh, and steering a course for the Santa Cruz group, we got there on the following afternoon. We called at a small village, and in about half an hour’s time left for another called Nelua. We had hardly anchored there when a rather sudden and terrific squall hid lantl and every thing else save the ship from view. It was not till it was over and sail made fast that we had achance tolook about us. The foliage of the island wasexceedingly luxuriant and riched colourly, and the tiny native huts peeping out from

the middle of the clusters of cocoa-nut trees tended to make the scene more beautiful. Already the water round the vessel was swarming with out-rigged eanoes, on the platform extending from canoe to out-rigger being placed curios innumerable, from native mats and carpets to little tortoise-shell and shell ear ornaments. All these things we noticed before we thought of looking at the islanders themselves, and when we did look we were rather surprised. A more ugly lot of people I am sure never existed. They were well-made and healthy-looking, but their mouths, reddened with the constant chewing of the betel-nut, were simply awful. To be short, they resembled a huge slit in a red pumpkin. In the greater majority of cases their hair was dyed more or less with lime, the consequence being that the shades varied considerably and unnaturally. Through their noses most of them wore a large tortoise-shell ring, which hung over their mouths and rendered it a necessity to raise the ornament before eating. Then through their ears was pierced a hole which, without exaggerating in the least, was dragged down till it reached their shoulders. In this aperture immense bundles of shells, charms, etc., were worn One man especially amused me, for in one ear he wore, besides many other heavy trinkets, a very large machine cotton reel, about four inches long, while in the other he carried his pipe and tobacco. Another man had a fancy vinegar bottle dangling from his neck, and another even an empty meat tin. Nearly all of them had a fancy kit suspended round their necks, and in this kit they kept all their smaller wares and deposited what payment they received. The natives were very business like and sharp, and once they named a price it was very difficult to beat them down, unless opposition offered itself, then you could bring them down to almost nothing. At these islands the best trading mediums were calico, turkey red, blue beads, and tobacco. To show how sharp they are, I had no calico, and wanted very much a fine bow I saw. Having no other alternative (tobacco my friend would not take), I got some art muslin which had been used as a drape, and confident of being successful, I went on deck and showed it to the dusky tradesman ; but no—he held it up and gazed intently at it, and then handed it back to me. I asked him as well as I was able what was wrong with it, and pointed to the gorgeous flowery pattern. He put it over his face and pointed his finger at me, as much as to say he could see me through it, and that therefore it was too thin to be of any use, so, after all, I did not get the coveted curio.

The Solomon Islanders we had on board were very jealous of their sharper cousins, and took every opportunity of telling us when a Santa Cruzian asked too much for an article, much to the anger and disgust of the latter. In the morning we steamed further along the coast to another village, and here we did some more trading. On the beach I noticed some huge mounds, and asking what they were, was informed that they were large canoes in which the Cruxians sail to distant islands. They were evidently valued, for they were covered with leaves and mats to protect them from the sun. About eleven o'clock we set sail for the Solomon Group, and in two days’ time—on a Saturday morning—we arrived at Ulana. The island was not as hilly as some we had visited, but the vegetation was very rich. In the New Hebrides the cocoanut palms were scattered here and there, but in this group they were clustered round the villages. The greater number of these islands, too, possess nice sandy beaches, while it is very rarely one sees them in the other group. Hardly had we anchored when we saw the natives launching their canoes, and soon they surrounded the ship. Contrary to my expectations, they appeared to be exceedingly quiet, and indeed at Malanta—the most savage island of a savage group—the men seemed to be very effeminate-looking. They were, as a rule, about the average height, and were very lithe and supple. On their arms most of them wore China rings of European manufacture. Their canoes were very pretty little models, being without out-riggers, and made of thin boards glued together with a natural gum. We did a little trading there, and in the evening left for San Christoval—a very large island, where we arrived towards midnight. We lay there all Sunday, and during the afternoon a few of us were taken ashore to a village, where we enjoyed ourselves watching these strange people’s customs. On the following morning we left for Malanta, and during the afternoon reached there. The natives who inhabit this island are still as savage as they can be, and are quite nude. While we were there we saw no sign of canoes, and we learned that the coastal tribes were away fighting the bush tribes, who are bitter enemies to their adversaries. This great animosity is due to the coastal tribes informing men-of-war at sundry times of some murderer among

the bushmen. The village we lay off was called Saa, and is one of the few missionary stations on the island. At dusk we left this inhospitable though beautiful island, and steamed along the coast all night. Passing the furthemost point the vessel steamed for Florida—a very appropriate name for it, for it was exceedingly beautiful, and by far the most lovely island we had seen. As we neared it we passed numerous tiny islands, some of them mere rocks, and yet every one of them was woodrd thickly and luxuriantly. We called at several villages during the day, and in the afternoon proceeded further along the coast. I cannot describe the scenery and beautiful harbours of the island ; suffice it to say everything was perfect. As we passed through narrow straits we seemed to be almost directly underneath picturesque little huts, perched away up on the tops of the cliffs. About 6 p.m. we dropped anchor in a pretty bay within coo ee of a village. The younger members of the community were amusing themselves by jumping off a peculiar triangular structure built in the shallow water. On the beach we could distinguish a sort of panoply erected, and we learned that a chief had died and was being buried. All through the night we could hear the dreary incantations of the mourners, and we were not a little glad when morning broke. When we came on deck we saw against the horizon the masts of two small vessels. They proved to be Sydney traders lying off Mr Nelson’s (the only white man near the island) station. The anchor was weighed, and we steamed round the coast for a time, and then the ship’s head was turned directly towards the shore, and we soon entered a passage, the entrance to which was almost completey obscured by the thick foliage which lined it. There were great hills all round, looking so solemn, for it seemed as if it were the first time a propeller had churned those waters. On some rocks near a point some crocodiles were basking, and the report of the sporting rifles which were discharged at them awoke echo upon echo till for miles around the whole place seemed alive, flocks of cockatoos and other wild birds rising screeching into the air. At one part of the passage the jibboom almost scraped the trees as we turned a point, so narrow and deep was it, and when we got to the other end we passed a village so close that one might easily have jumped alongside the eager groups of natives that stood knee-keep in the water watching us glide by. Soon afterwards we anchored on the other side of the island. We had passeil through some of the most luxuriant scenery one could ever hope to see. In the afternoon we called at several other villages and anchored in a splendid harbour for the night. The water was so clear that we could distinguish our cable dwindling in and out among the coral several fathoms below, looking like a tiny wave thread. In the morning we sailed tor Isabel, the first of the Germa:: possessions in the group, and arrived at the village of Bugotu shortly after noon. It was by far the most dreary looking island we had visited. We got very little fruit there, but could have got numerous cockatoos, so plentiful were they. For three days we were pent up in a stifling lagoon, where we never once got a breath of wind, and worst of all had to take quinine night and morning on account of the malaria, which we could see rising in steamy mists from the adjacent swamps. During the time we were there we were engaged in getting water and wood for the ship, and we were glad when, on the following Monday morning, we hove the anchor and steered towards the south. We called at Florida, Torres, Mera Lava, Mota, Maewo, Pentecost, and Norfolk Islands, and in a little over three and a half weeks arrived at Auckland, having been absent some two and a-half months.