ADVENTURE ON THE SOUTH SEAS

The concluding instalment of the unexpurgated 1939 diary of Sir Charles Mappin

13 September Bryan and Simone went riding on horse- back to see an American who lives on the other side, and to ask him to come to din- ner. Lew, Madou and I lunched ashore with a very drunken Captain and then went and listened to Liza teaching the children at school, We listened to the news at seven and were slightly annoyed to hear an American broadcasting from Leipzig and inferring that we had sunk the Athenia to gain American backing.

The American arrived for dinner, and we had a very amusing evening listening to a rough summary of his life. He had been most things that required guts and toughness, and told us an interesting anecdote of how he shot an 'acquaintance' because he was too good at poker for him.

14 September Bryan and Franklin went fishing at dawn and returned with a monster fish which infuriated me because I hadn't taken part. But I was much relieved to hear later they had actual- ly caught fuck all, and the big one had been caught by the cabin boy from the end of the boat.

After lunch Francis shot us a goat, and we spent the entire afternoon try- ing for the big shark, without success. Three small ones came and sniffed around but didn't bite.

Dinner ashore and Mappy sinking. The Captain found me a portion of grumble and grunt. I remember very little about it except waking up in the morning to find myself on a mattress on the deck with a rather large Mangare- van woman, and the Captain asking me if I wouldn't buy a piece of cloth from the Chi- naman to make a dress. Whether I lucked her or not I don't know. I asked the Cap- tain, and he said he had looked out during the night and saw her fucking me, but he thought I was asleep.

15 September Went ashore still pissed and slept in Fran- cis' house until lunch. Bryan woke me to see the dancing, which although very descriptive, each dance telling a story, not as attractive as Tahitian. We left after lunch, the ship's number having increased by three, two pigs and a guinea pig, pre- sents to Simone from her aunt. Early to Fourth portrait of a Polynesian beauty, commissioned by Sir Charles Mappin bed and glad to get there.

16 September Slept all day. Have salvaged a small part of the Mappin wagon, but regret it is far from intact.

17 September Still feeling rather strangely. Heading for Hikuera which we hope to reach in three days. Trying to work out the best way to get home, and think for a combination of speed and comfort Suva, Honolulu, Cali- fornia, New York seems the best. But we can do nothing until we reach Papeete about the 28th, and see what has happened there.

18 September Complete recovery. Averaging about 5 knots. Should see Nengo- Nengo tomorrow, literally translat- ed, 'the island that sinks'.

19 September As far as I am concerned the best day we have had. Consternation at breakfast caused by cries of Tig overboard'. Pig seen going astern like a fart in a gale of wind. We cir- cled round for about 10 minutes, and then gave it up and presented it to the sharks.

Nengo-Nengo, the first island of Tuamtous, is in sight. A coral atoll with a few coconut trees and unin- habited. It is rumoured there are two men there, but we failed to find them. We started trolling about 5 miles out, and they came in thick and fast. The first was a blue-finned tuna, about 90Ibs, followed by a shark, and innumerable strange fish with unwriteable and unpronounce- able names. Bryan was unlucky; all his were the same breed, bright red with orange eyes, and had to be thrown back as they were poi- sonous.

After lunch of fish fried and fish raw, we set off for shore in a whale boat. Infinitely more exciting than Rimatara. The breakers were terrif- ic, and one mistake meant arse over tip, with a choice of being dashed to bits on the coral or being eaten by sharks. Once over the reef there was still about 50 yards of shallow with the boat being twisted one way and another and sharks swimming hungrily alongside.

There are three forms of sport at Nengo- Nengo, and we tried them all. Catching frigate birds, beating eels to death, and catching fish by hand. The fish are the most amusing, prying them from under rocks and then chasing them into the shallows, all the time keeping a wary eye open that sharks aren't chasing you. As soon as the sharks see you they come straight for you, and frequently we just avoided them by jumping onto lumps of coral. Simone and Marcel were the experts, but Lew and I caught a very fine green one by sheer strat- egy after leaping about like mad things for 20 minutes. We caught about a dozen in all and killed hundreds of eels, which have a very nasty bite and unfortunately are not good to eat. The boat is now full of frigate birds which the crew caught, and Simone and Madou have adopted two as pets.

The island is completely barren, just bro- ken coral and scrub, teeming with fish and birds, no water and incredibly hot. The return journey was wracking. We sat in the boat for about a quarter of an hour avoid- ing the pecks of the birds and cautiously watching the sharks whilst the crew held the boat, waiting for the right wave. One of the boys nearly got left behind as the boat went over the reef and kept calling to Lew, `Help me, help me, I don't want to die.' We got back to the boat about 6 feeling very tired and sore from the sun. An excel- lent dinner, raw fish, breasts of frigate birds and gin and coconut juice. We left for Hikuera at seven, and should be there tomorrow morning.

20 September Awoke at 7 to find Hikuera on the horizon. The same formation as Nengo-Nengo, but considerably larger. A population of 140, a small amount of copra, and the centre of the pearling industry in the Tuamotues. We fished our way in but caught nothing. Unlike Nengo-Nengo it is well fished by the natives.

We went ashore about 10 to see the Chief. Crossing the reef was much easier but there is further to walk than at our old friend Nengo-N, and although I didn't see any sharks I was extremely careful.

The Chief gave us rum punch, and arranged to- let us have his launch after lunch to go and see the pearl-diving. I think I expected to see young Adonises kiss their wives good-bye, slide into the sea with a smile on their lips, and death in their hearts, kill two or three sharks on their way down and two or three on their way up and return about 20 minutes later with a pearl the size of an ostrich egg. Actually what happens is a rather untidy old man slides off an even older canoe with a handker- chief round his left hand made out of a Piece of sacking probably marked 'best flour, Papeete', and returns 30 seconds later with nothing at all. Apparently what they collect they put in a basket at the bot- tom of the sea and they consist of very large old pearl shells that Scotts wouldn't deign to have on the counter.

Back at the Chiefs house it was more amusing. We sat around and every few minutes someone would produce a pearl

Sergeant Air Gunner Sir Charles Mappin, 1940 with a giggle and put it on the desk. We admired the pearls, and enquired the prices which were usually about 5 mille, with a long thought over an offer of 500. Lew was producing them from under his pareu, the Chinaman from out of his mouth, the Cap- tain from every hole and corner, and any moment I expected Simone to produce one from the only hole that interests her.

To cause an even greater delay the wife of the owner of the pearl that Bryan want- ed had a baby and the husband had to dis- appear and wash its soiled linen, which is a rather strange Hikueran custom. Bryan seized his opportunity, darted in amongst the midwives and made his offer, which was promptly accepted in order to get him out of the way.

We got aboard without incident, had din- ner and began the old argument of how much of a friend must a man be before you consider yourself a shit for fucking his wife. It started over Madou accusing Lew of hay-

ing an affair with someone. Lew denied it, but admitted fucking twice, once in a coconut tree and once on the copra sacks in the custom shed. Over a bottle of Bene- dictine it was finally agreed that you could fuck the wife of an acquaintance but not that of a friend (an axiom I have agreed with for some time, as you may well remember).

On my return to Papeete have decided to sever a few friendships. We went on deck at midnight and joined the crew who were singing jibber-jibber songs of extreme vul- garity. Lew danced hula-hula dances with a fine Benedictine sway, and then bed.

21 September Reached Aana late in the evening and lay off for the night. It is considerably larger than Hikuera and more beautiful. It was swept by a hurricane in 1906, and a hun- dred people were drowned. Alongside the reef there are enormous lumps of coral about 15 feet high which were thrown up by the sea.

22 September The Administrator came on board and gave us the latest war bulletin. All news seemed good but we expect it to be more authentic in Papeete. Lew and I went ashore in the morning and saw the China- man who was out of all foodstuffs and bought the rest of our flour.

Bryan and Simone swam, sailed and goosed in the lagoon after lunch. We left in the evening and caught four blue-finned tuna trolling from the schooner. I caught two, both in the lower jaw. Native supersti- tion says that if you catch a fish in the lower jaw you are doomed. Thank God I have proved all this mumbo-jumbo wrong on one point.

In fact, within two years Sir Charles Mappin was dead, at the age of 32, shot down in a bombing raid over Hamburg. He had volun- teered to be a rear gunner with a New Zealand squadron, which his sister described as 'suicide . . the norm was three trips, and they used to hose them out. He died on his second trip.' On the day Charles Mappin was reported killed in action, his mother told the Daily Express 7 am proud of Charles; he had guts.'

`0 K, so the Government has closed down the hospital . . . My dad will lend us this barn, Timmy has a penknife, so let's do the operations right here.'