“Clear off!” shouted the chief mate as the tug took us in hand.
When the Matafas saw that we were really off they commenced wailing in a most pathetic manner. Tamafanga prostrated himself at their feet and wailed too. It was nothing much to see those old Samoans wail and cry out, beating their hands all the time in anguish, for they mostly do that kind of thing when they bid anyone farewell.
The chief mate caught poor Tamafanga by the fold of his old coat and told him to “get off and do his work.”
Mr and Mrs Matafa stood up in the outrigged canoe and waved their hands till our ship rounded the point, and we put out to sea. So did I leave Apia, with Tamafanga as a shipmate, bound for Nuka Hiva.
We had not been to sea more than two days when they put Tamafanga in the galley to help the cook. They found that he was no earthly use on deck. He was for ever singing, but the cook was a good fellow and did not seem to mind so long as Tamafanga washed the pans and peeled the spuds properly. He had a bunk amidships, near mine in the deckhouse. He sang all night long, as well as all through the day. Indeed he never seemed to want to sleep.
“Tamafanga,” I said, “it’s true that you know that I am fond of music, but do you think that it’s right to sit on the side of my bunk singing when I am trying to get to sleep?”
He hung his head and looked like a whipped hound as I said that to him. I felt more ashamed at heart than he did, as I added quickly: “Tamafanga, I know that your voice is beautiful, but it is really necessary to sleep when I come below. I am not a Samoan, I am only a sleepy-headed white man, see? Tamafanga, old pal, that makes all the difference.”
“Master, I promise that I will only sing four hours in the evening, as you wish,” and then, saying this to me, he burst into song on the spot, though he promised to sing no more that night.
All the sailors liked Tamafanga. One night they gave him some rum. They deceived him by saying: “Tamafanga, you sing so beautifully that we have decided to give you this nice stuff, which is specially prepared for the voice. You will sing like a blackbird after you drink that.”
“What’s a blackbird?” said he.