Dear Ben: It breaks my heart you didn't sign on for this trip. Your
replacement, who _calls_ himself an ichthyologist, has only one talent
that pertains to fish--he drinks like one. There are nine of us in the
expedition, and every one of us is fed up with this joker, Cleveland,
already. We've only been on the island a week, and he's gone native,
complete with beard, bare feet and bone laziness. He slops around the
lagoon like a beachcomber and hasn't brought in a decent specimen yet.
The island is a bit of paradise, though. Wouldn't be hard to let
yourself relax under the palms all day instead of collecting blisters
and coral gashes out in the bright sun of the atoll. No complaints,
however. We aren't killing ourselves, and our little camp is very
comfortable. The portable lab is working out fine, and the screened
sleeping tent-houses have solved the one big nuisance we've suffered
before: _Insects_. I think an entomologist would find more to keep him
busy here than we will.
Your ankle should be useable by the time our next supply plane from
Hawaii takes off. If you apply again at the Foundation right now I'm
sure Sellers and the others will help me get rid of Cleveland, and
there'll be an open berth here.
Got to close now. Our amphib jets off in an hour for the return trip.
Hope this note is properly seductive. Come to the isles, boy, and
live!--Cordially, Fred
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