THE FRAGRANT SMELL OF THE ALLURING PALMS
Away to the westward the sun was sinking into the deep, with small
fleecy clouds guarding the last bright quivering rays as if giving a
signal to make ready for the lovely night. So Christmas had come and
departed with the setting of the sun.
I was thinking of him who had also departed so suddenly to the land of
eternal rays, and wondered if the great Nazarene should not have said,
"Peace to those who have passed away, and good will to those whom they
have left behind."
For the next ten days the wind held steady, and one could see from the
restlessness of the crew, particularly Dago Joe, that we were nearing
land. I had sent a man aloft to see if he could pick up Wallingallala
Light. I was sure that if our chronometer was right we should pick it up
about two o'clock in the morning. I decided to sail through Namuka
Passage, thereby cutting off the distance to Suva about three hundred
and fifty miles. Otherwise it would be necessary to sail to the
southward of the Archipelago, and the danger of the latter course was
the southeast trades, which usually die out twenty degrees south of the
Equator.
As Suva lay 18° 22', I was sure I could hold the wind through the
Passage, if I could keep away from the uncharted coral reefs which are
so dangerous to navigation among those islands. At half-past three in
the morning Broken-Nosed Pete sang out from the foretop, "A light on the
port bow." I took the binoculars and ran up the mizzen-rigging. There
was the long-looked-for light.
I changed the course after getting bearings on the light, and headed her
for Namuka Passage. After entering the Passage it was necessary to
change our course from time to time, and this had to be done by log and
chart, in order to avoid the projecting reefs which jutted out from the
island. Many of these reefs extend from three to five miles from each
island. The navigator never loses his position of ship, and great care
must be taken in making allowances for currents.
About six o'clock we were well into the Passage and abreast of Boscowen
Island, better known as Cap Island. Away to the southwest lay Vite Vuva,
which was the island we were bound for. The wind was freshening, and
when passing an island great gusts of wind would swoop on us, which made
it necessary to take in our staysails.
The fragrant smell of the alluring palms was beginning to fascinate the
crew, with the exception of Riley, who wore a rather troubled look. When
I asked him if he was sick he replied in the negative, "Sick would you
have me? Shur'n the divil a bit is it sick I am. Auld Charlie has been
telling me it's cannibals there are on these islands, but shure I don't
belave a wurd that old wharf rat says."
"Well, Riley," said I, "Charlie may be right. No doubt somewhere in
these islands there may lurk a few sturdy savages who wouldn't hesitate
a moment to recommend that a man like you be cooked and served table
d'hôte at one of their moonlight festivals. They much prefer the white
meat to the dark, and you will admit there are some choice pieces in
you."
"There are, me bye, but I'll be keeping meself intact and the divil a
man-eater will iver lay a tooth in me, if Michael Dennis Riley knows
anything."
"Stay close to the ship," said I, "and don't wander too far afield and I
doubt if there is much danger, as long as you keep sober and have your
eye peeled to windward."
"Be Hiven, sor, and that is what I will be doing. As for keeping sober,
shure and that is aisy for me. It is only on rare occasions that I ever
take a drop of the crayture. Begorra, and it's the pledge I'll be taking
while I'm amongst these heathen."
The speed we were making did not encourage me in the least. We were
logging eleven knots, and if she kept this up we would be off Suva
Harbor about two-thirty in the morning; then it would be necessary to
lie off Suva till the pilot came aboard some time during the forenoon.
The chart showed it was about seven miles from the entrance of the
channel between the coral reefs to the harbor. As there were no
tug-boats here, I figured that by the time the pilot rowed off to where
I should be in the offing, it would indeed be late in the morning. But I
was much worried at having to spend a night dodging these dangerous
reefs which were not even marked by a bell-buoy.
Towards evening, while passing between two islands, the wind fell very
light. The channel was narrow, and it looked for a time as if we were in
danger of drifting onto the south reef of Vite Vuva Island. What little
breeze there was carried to our ears the enchanting voices of the
natives singing their island songs. The cook was coaxing Toby to indulge
in age-old brisket, but without success, and turning to me he said,
"What a pity it is that our world isn't full of song and laughter like
that of these happy natives. Their day of toil is over, and with it
comes the song of happiness. There are no landlords here to dispossess
you, no licensed thugs hired by crooked corporations to club you while
you are working for the interest of the downtrodden. I tell you that
some day the world will be just such a place to live in as these isles,
no worries, no troubles and damned little work."