When the boat arrived, as is usually the case, we had to scurry round and put our outfit and apparatus together with as much expedition as possible. By the time we started we were all pretty well tired out and glad of a rest on this beautifully arranged and fitted-up boat. How I wished I could have her for the whole trip. It would have been perfect!
The Olive Branch is a fore-and-aft schooner 67 feet long—16⁸⁄₁₀ beam; gross tonnage 45·96, registered tonnage 32·4; carvel built. She was built by Lane and Brown at Whangaroa, Auckland, N.Z., in 1895. The Rev. F. W. Walker, having been to sea before he became a missionary, was sent from New Guinea to superintend her building, and having a master’s certificate he sailed her back when finished. The L.M.S. allowed £600 for her—far too little, it should have been £900—and she cost £1900! Walker with not unnatural enthusiasm tried to improve the boat as she was being built, and feeling his honour at stake he manfully determined to pay the balance himself, so he temporarily retired from the society and started trading in New Guinea. I hear he is doing very well, as he deserves to, but I am afraid that fair trading with natives on Christian principles will not conduce to a rapid fortune.
We had the usual medley of races on board—European (skipper and passengers); Malay (ship’s cook, Ali, from Penang, our cook, Ontong, from Batavia); Polynesian (first mate from Aitutaki, Hervey Group; a teacher from Rimatara, near Tahiti; a Samoan teacher, his wife and child); Melanesian (one boy from Keapara and three from Delena, British New Guinea); Negroid (a negro from St Vincent, probably not full-blooded).
We made a quick passage through Flinders’ Entrance, found rollers in the Gulf water, and as the wind was fresh most of us were hors-de-combat, and turned in very early, but had a broken night owing to a great deal of motion, noise, and rain.
Tuesday, May 24th.—A fair sea on and plenty of movement, dull sky and frequent squalls, and a heavy rain storm for an hour or so at noon. So far as the uninteresting sea and dull grey weather was concerned we might have been in English waters, but not as regards temperature—it was a pleasant temperature, neither hot nor cold, and the wind was warm. Not a very enjoyable day. Weather remained the same all day; too thick to see the New Guinea coast. Noon position: lat. 8° 57′, long. 145° 42′ E.; distance, 122 miles.
Wednesday, May 25th.—Weather looked squally in morning, and had slight puffs of wind with rain; but soon all wind dropped, and there we were at 11 a.m. lolling about the Papuan Gulf within sight of distant land, when the clouds permitted it to be seen, and the steersman vainly whistling for a wind. This kept on all day. We had a busy afternoon measuring anthropometrically some of the crew, and Seligmann tested the tactile sensibility of two of them. Noon position: lat. 8° 41′ N., long. 146° 5′ E.; distance, 27 miles.
Thursday.—Calm night; sails flapping in the wind and gear rattling. A quiet, soft morning; the continuous rain prevented bearings being taken. The captain thought we were about 19 miles off Yule Island. Cleared up later in the morning and had brilliant sunshine; sea perfectly calm, but with a long, steady roll. About one o’clock a little wind sprung up, and now, contrary to our fears, we began to hope we might anchor at Delena that night. Noon position: lat. 8° 53′ N., long. 146° 18′ 30″ E.; distance, 17 miles. The wind freshened slightly, which enabled us to get to our anchorage in Hall Sound, between Delena to the east and Yule Island to the west, about 4.45 in the afternoon. We had tea as soon as we could, and then landed; but the sun was setting, and it would rapidly be dark.
Delena is a small village of about twenty houses, situated on the sand beach at the end of a range of low wooded hills. On the high ground behind the beach are other houses, and here also is the L.M.S. Mission Station.
The Rev. H. M. Dauncey has a large house, which is very sensibly arranged, and must have been comparatively cheap to build. It consists of a large platform on posts covered by a corrugated iron roof. In the centre he has built large rooms with bamboo walls that do not go up to the roof. Thus there is ventilation above as well as through the walls, and instead of building the rooms in a solid block, one large room is detached so as to leave a broad gangway for a draught of air. The verandah is covered with creepers, and round the house are planted a large number of brilliant variegated crotons, hybiscus, and other shrubs, and the air was redolent with the sweet perfume of a grinadilla that was trained over an archway which sheltered one of the paths. The house is set in a large garden or plantation of bananas, coconuts, limes, and other fruit trees, and a short distance off are the teachers’ and students’ houses. Mr. Dauncey’s energy and enthusiasm, backed by those of Matapo, have made themselves felt, and doubtless must have effect on the natives, though of this I was naturally unable to judge. Matapo is the native of Rimatara whom we had on board with us on the Olive Branch. He had been paying a visit to friends in Torres Straits, and was now returning home.
My first impression of the Eastern Papuans was that they are markedly different in several characters from the Torres Straits islanders, who are Western Papuans. They are shorter, lighter, and redder in colour, have less rugged features, and a somewhat more refined appearance. They are all tattooed. The younger men appear to tattoo their faces only, though some of the old men have patterns on the arms and legs and chest. The women are tattooed more or less all over. True tattooing, which consists in pricking pigment into the skin, does not show on very dark skins; indeed, the skin of most of the Eastern Papuans is often so dark that the tattooing does not readily show on it. Like the African negroes and the Australians, some of the Western Papuans ornament their body by means of severe scars. This practice of scarification has now ceased in Torres Straits and is diminishing on the mainland of New Guinea, where the influence of the white man extends; but we have seen many men amongst the Torres Straits islanders and Western Papuans who tattoo themselves slightly, in imitation of Polynesian or Eastern Papuans. It appeared to me that these people are less excitable than the Torres Straits islanders. We did not stay long on shore that evening, as we could do nothing in the dark.