Sailor And Beachcomber - free ebook by A. (Arnold) Safroni-Middleton

SAILOR AND BEACHCOMBER

Tree Climbing...

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PREFACE

In the following chapters, wherein I have endeavoured to write down my experiences at sea, in Australia and on the South Sea Islands, I have not gone beyond the first four or five years of my life abroad, but later on I hope to do so, if I get the chance. I have made no attempt to moralise in my book, and if I appear to have been guilty of doing so, be assured it was a spasm of the intellect and quite forgotten all about a few minutes after I had written it down. All I have attempted in this boo

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I

I run away to Sea—Outbound for Australia—Appointed Solo Violinist in the Saloon—I watch Sailors asleep I will write you that which no man has written before. I will tell you the truth as I found it. I will tell you of the aspirations of rough but brave men in distant lands and on the ships of distant tropic seas. I will tell you the truth of many thrills that buoyed me up with hope in my wanderings, and also of the chills that crushed in the last forlorn stand on the field of adversity. Aye, you

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II

Stranded in Brisbane—I look for a Shop—Meet typical House Agent—The Vanity of Youth—I stock my Shop—Alone in the Bush—House Agent calls for Agreement Money and the Rent—I do a Moonlight Flit As I have previously told you, all I am writing is the truth, so I must tell you that I never saw the Captain’s daughter again, but in my chest of old letters and unaccepted manuscripts I still keep her little notes, dropped near me on the deck of the ship that took me to Australia. The atmosphere of a new w

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III

No Money—Sleeping Out—Bushed!—The Stockman’s Shanty Stranded in Brisbane without a cent I slept down on the wharfs and sometimes curled my half-starved body up by the warm funnel of the deep-sea tramp boats. I will not weary you with the details of those days and nights, excepting to tell you that hundreds of English boys, and the pluckiest boys of your country too, go through all that I went through in the land of the Golden Fleece. I was soon in rags, sunburnt and miserable. I mixed with Engli

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IV

My first Whiskies and Sodas—And after!—Secure Position as a Violinist in Orchestra—We stow away—Sight the South Sea Islands—Samoa Once again I arrived in Brisbane, and walking up the main street, feeling rather down in the mouth, I was suddenly thrilled by meeting an old school chum out from England. We almost fell into each other’s arms. As soon as we had both recovered from our mutual astonishment, I inquired and learnt that he was working as a clerk in one of the Brisbane wholesale establishm

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V

I extemporise Stirring Music on my Violin at Native Weddings—Dethroned Queens and Kings—Meet Papoo I am now going to tell you about Samoa and Samoan folk just as my eyes saw them. My ship sailed away, but I was not on board of it. The Samoan climate suited my health, and I found decent fellows living there who made jolly companions. One of them was a reformed German missionary who had mended his ways, left off the drink and toiled honestly on a coco-nut plantation which helped him to eke out a l

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VI

Contrasts—A South Sea Bar-room—I meet Robert Louis Stevenson—An Old Time Trader’s Morals—Shell-backs Alas , a good many of those brown men and women of the old days have passed away for ever, and in their place, over the islands of the South Seas, roam the varied offspring of men from many lands, the half-caste children of white traders, Chinese mongrels, Polynesian niggers, descendants of wandering, adventurous viciousness, mixed up with the outcasts of civilisation, and more often than quite e

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VII

I go cruising amongst the Islands—Arrive in Sydney—Wharfers looking for Work—I go off hunting for Gold—Meet R. L. Stevenson at Sea Once more the wandering fever came over me, and wishing old Hornecastle good-bye and my few other friends, I shipped in a schooner bound for the Fijis. For two or three months I roamed with her from isle to isle, saw the various tribes of original mankind of all the South Seas, heard their songs and squatted with them in their little huts as the children of past bloo

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VIII

An Old Time Marquesan Queen—Forced Teetotalism and the Result—With R.L.S. watching Native Dance—A German Missionary—A Medley of Incidents There was an old Marquesan Queen who lived near Samoa. Years ago in the zenith of her beauty and fame she sang and danced at the cannibalistic feasts, was the belle of the Isles and a kind of Helen of Troy of the South Seas. She was taken prisoner by various tribes, bought by the big tattooed chiefs and, when they sickened of her, sold again and again until at

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IX

Descendants of Mutineers—Cannibalism—I play a Violin Overture at what I fear is a Cannibalistic Feast—A Samoan Chief’s Philosophy—Musings Before I proceed I will tell you about the crew of the Bounty just as I heard it from the lips of one of the descendants of the old mutineers whom I have awhile back spoken of. The Bounty left England considerably more than a hundred years ago, and made a voyage to the South Seas, calling at the Isle of Tahiti. No one knows exactly what the mutiny was about; a

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X

A Cockney and his Fijian Bride—Nature’s Lady—South Sea Dress Fashions—Idol Worship After the exciting experience which I related to you in the last chapter, when I think I was within an ace of being eaten by that cannibal tribe, I started off cruising with “Castle” and my friend the Danish poet. We made a happy trio and many were the subsequent adventures which we had together. Hornecastle hired a sloop and made a good bit of cash at times by trading around the Islands, and I was delighted to go

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XI

Back in Samoa—My Friend the Missionary—Musings Next day we sailed away, and being lucky with a fair wind blowing steadily behind us we soon arrived back safely at the Samoan Islands. It was a long trip and I was jolly glad to see my berth ashore again as I did not get much sleep at sea—room being scarce I had slept on deck the whole time, and I had to sleep in the sloop scupper as she lay over with so great a list. Everything was just about the same, and very quiet. The Lubeck had been in and le

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XII

Tramping the South Sea Bush—Native Homes, Scandal and Jealousy—Samoan Children—Samoan Girls attired in European Cast-off Clothes—Another South Sea Chief I think that you might like to hear something of the suburban life in the South Sea Islands, of the native villages inland, and so I will now tell you of my strolls and visits to Marano’s hut and his wife “Taloffora.” One morning quite alone I set out to go inland to the village of Safata. It was a lovely morning; I walked along under the tamanu

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XIII

I tramp through the South Sea Forest alone—Play my Violin to the Natives—The Trader’s Vision—The Rivals Marmona was a faithful friend, and led me through the forest, down the mountainous steep with the certain instinct of a blood-hound. Once on the track we called at a tiny South Sea home wherein lived some friends of Marmona’s and to please him I took the violin out and played to them all. There were two daughters and several sons, and as they stood listening they jabbered and eyed me with wond

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XIV

South Sea Domestic Life—I attend another South Sea Wedding—Meet Men flying from Justice—Bound for Tahiti At that time I was about eight miles from Apia, and though I was alone, and a bit depressed, I soon regained my spirits and tramped along whistling. To my right moved the deep blue Pacific waters, as the cooling wind gently stirred them and crept up the shore and fanned my perspiring face. No artist could paint in words or colour the beauty of the romantic scenery that lay all around me. The

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XV

Tahitian Morals and Duplicity—I play the Violin at Government Concert—Death of M’Neil—The Black Slave Traffic Arriving at Tahiti our passengers went off to the plantations and I went off also as I wanted to see what kind of a place it was. The capital, Papeite, was a much larger and livelier place than Apia. The population consisted of all kinds of half-castes, Chinese, French, and Tahitian brigands. I went inland and tramped around the sugar plantations whereon worked the natives and Chinese. A

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XVI

Hafiao—Rival Marquesan Queens—Behind the Veil—Vaca Mountain—I meet R.L.S.—Thakambau the Last of the Fijian Kings—Apia After a monotonous voyage of adverse winds and a typhoon that brought seas over and washed me out of my bunk, smashed our deck in and carried away all the cordage and boats, we arrived at “Hivaoa.” The natives swam out to us in shoals; on they came as the anchor dropped, lines and lines of bobbing frizzly heads with swimming eyes, gliding along to the paddling hands level with th

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XVII

Apia—R.L.S. visits Samoan Homesteads—Apia Beach Incident—Samoan Music and Dancing—I am nearly drowned—Native Song—Native Music and my own Compositions, which reproduce South Sea Characteristic Music and Atmosphere—I sleep in Cannibalistic Cooling-off Larder—“Barney Dear” and Old Naylor On the beach about a mile from Apia, in our ramblings together, we came across Robert Louis Stevenson. He was paddling in a shallow by the shore, his pants tucked up to his knees, his legs sun-scorched and browned

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XVIII

Back in Apia—Robert Louis Stevenson—Chief Mate Herberts lost Overboard—Savage Island—Thoughts of the Workman’s Train to London and back to the Suburbs From Hiva-oa we went to Fatou Hiva, then to the Paumotu group that sparkled like Isles of Eden in the vast shining water-tracks of the Pacific; for miles and miles there are islands dotted, and I felt some of the enthusiasm that R.L.S. felt when he visited the same Islands, and he did not exaggerate about the beauty and novelty of the Marquesas an

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XIX

Father Damien and the Leper Girl, as told to me by Raeltoa the Samoan I will now tell you of one of those missionaries who were sincere in their faith, unselfish in their ambition and moreover suffered in sympathy over the sorrows of the sick. In a village home about eight miles inland from Apia, I had the good fortune to come across a pure-blooded Polynesian who was a poet and musician. I think I stayed with him for about five or six weeks, but in that little time we became the best of friends.

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XX

Mr Joyce and Mythologies—Numea and the Convicts—I play Violin to Native King and get a Knighthood!!—I lead a Native Orchestra of Barbarian Instruments Joyce took a great fancy to me and I to him, and I was eventually engaged as his travelling secretary. He was very fond of music and would get me to play his favourite melodies, and as I entertained him he would sit by his bungalow with his hands on his knees, and often would give me a gracious smile as he gazed through his big-rimmed spectacles.

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XXI

Little Damien’s Grave in the Forest—I go peddling in the South Seas—The Art of Tattooing—About Apia and Samoan Life I met Raeltoa in Apia one afternoon. He caught hold of my hand and kissed it, and was full of grief, for poor little Damien, his daughter, was dead. I felt terribly cut up at hearing about it. She had caught influenza. Poor Raeltoa, I did my best to soothe him, and at his intense wish went out with him to the little grave. It was a terribly lonely pathetic spot—a tiny mound under a

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XXII

I leave the South Sea for Australia—Arrive in Sydney—I get hard up and take a Partnership in a Flower Seed Business—The Stockman’s Daughter Ethel—I meet an old-fashioned Australian Bushman—He gives me a Night’s Lodging—I meet with Queensland Blacks—Alone in the Bush—Brisbane With regret I now leave the South Seas and once more start off on my wanderings accompanied by my modest and faithful friend who always sang happily or sadly in response to my own feelings—my violin. Hornecastle was sorry to

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XXIII

I stow away—Rescued by Sailors—Emigrant Derelicts—I go up Country—Memories There was a large tramp steamer alongside of the wharf; she was getting up steam to go away and was bound for London. I thought it was a fine opportunity to try and get a berth together, but it was no go, as they say, so my German friend and I made up our minds to stow away. I had about two shillings in my pocket, so went up into the town and bought two loaves of bread and one pound of cheese, and that night without any t

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XXIV

The Deserted Hut—Visiting in the Bush—Stockriders There were a lot of lonely men in those days, tramping the ocean-wide bush lands, real helmless derelicts of humanity, as they staggered on the currents of luck into the stockman’s farm at sunset, wailed their pitiful tales of better days behind, mumbled their thanks over the tea and sugar given by a kindly hand for their billy-can, and tramped away once more into the solitude of gums and scrub. On and on they go that way till they die. One after

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XXV

Before the Mast—Bound for San Francisco—Man Overboard—I see ’Frisco High Life—My first Funeral Expenses—Joss Houses—Guest my Friend I will now leave my next three months of bush life unrecorded, as it would be very much the same as I have already written about. William and I got South Sea Island mad. It was my fault. I used to tell him about my experiences and as I told him of Papoo and various other Samoan and Fijian beauties, his eyes would gleam as he listened, until at last his sole ambition

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XXVI

I play the Violin at Fashionable Concerts, etc.—Ship before the Mast for Sydney—Go Up Country—Sheep-shearing—The Shearers’ good Resolutions and the Fall I never knew what to make of Guest; he certainly believed all that he told me. He eventually came to my lodging and lived in the next room; he had an old duck, I think he said it was eighteen years old; he carried it about much the same as folks do a pet poodle. I never saw such a wise and affectionate thing as that duck was. By his bed in a lar

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XXVII

Lost in the Bush—The Drought—We find dead Comrades together—Horse and Rider It was my luck to be on the lonely track humping the swag when a great drought swept its burning wave across the whole of Australia. On the borders of Queensland I had been with two more English emigrants working on a selector’s ranch at “Sunrise Creek.” Dorrell was the boss’s name and he had a splendid stock of sheep and many acres of land under cultivation. He proved a fine man to us lads and treated us as though we we

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XXVIII

Off to the Gold Fields—The Great Rush—Digging for Gold—Various Characters—I find an Old Pair of Boots and am thankful I will now tell you of my own experiences in that gold rush. I left Brisbane by boat and landed at Perth, West Australia, and found myself one of a wild crew of some hundreds bound for the newly discovered Eldorado. I had little money with me and so, with many fellows who were likewise in desperate financial circumstances, we went as far as we could by train and then tramped the

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XXIX

Playing the Violin to the Gold Miners—My Friend the Late Missionary—The Great Concert in Coolgardie, under the Direction of “Carl Rosa De Bonne”—Farewell I still had my violin when we arrived back in Kalgoorlie, and after a deal of trouble I got some strings and started playing to the miners, for Smith and I were desperate for money and decent clothes. In an old shanty place on the skirts of the town I played the violin and a sailor played the banjo as Smith took his hat round collecting and in

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