When I had told Glass on our arrival that I would be able to leave a considerable amount of general supplies for the islanders, he had said that he did not think they had stock enough on the island to pay for it. When I replied that I did not require any payment, he was most agreeably surprised, and promised to send us two or three good sheep and some fresh potatoes. I had also asked for a number of geese and poultry with the idea of placing them on Gough Island in the hope that they would settle there and breed.

The blowing of the steam whistle caused the most marked excitement amongst the islanders, who came rushing to their boats, which they launched, and, having rowed out to us, crowded aboard in dozens. Immediately there was a noise like babel let loose. Many of them approached Bob Glass, saying: “Can’t you get nothing more out of them, Bob?” As I had emptied the holds and stripped the ship of everything I could spare, and in the name of Mr. Rowett given all the relief I could to these people, I was not very well pleased at their attitude. On my asking for the sheep and potatoes and the live stock for Gough Island they suddenly remembered that they owed us something in return, and dragged up from the bottom of the boat what looked for all the world like two large and skinny rabbits. They proved to be sheep, the most miserable creatures I had ever set eyes on. They dumped aboard also two bags of potatoes which in size resembled marbles and some very indifferent-looking geese and poultry. They seemed to lose all restraint and begged for anything which caught their eye or their fancy, each man trying to get in his request before his neighbour or endeavouring to overshout him. There were no longer any requests on behalf of the community, each man trying to scrounge what he could for himself. A boatload containing some of the steadier men brought off six bags of mail, six bales of feathers and about nine bags of potatoes. These were dumped over our rail, and when I sent Macklin to find out what it was they had put aboard, they replied that they were parcels which they wished delivered to their friends in Cape Town who would send them something in return. These casual folk had made no arrangements and had not even addressed them sufficiently.

Rain had started to fall and Macklin, who knowing nothing of their coming had not prepared a place for them in the hold, turned to a group of the islanders and asked for some help to put the bales in the shelter of the alleyway, where they would be protected from the rain. Not a man stirred, each saying it had nothing to do with him. Macklin had to search out each man in turn to help with his own bag for none of them would touch anything that did not belong to him personally. We were all thoroughly disgusted with their behaviour, and on this last morning they undid any good impression we had gained of them whilst ashore.

One group of men brought me some bundles of whalebone which they asked me to buy for twenty pounds. As I had no idea of the value of the stuff I could not do it, but offered to take it to Cape Town and hand it over for disposal and have the value sent them in general goods. This arrangement they regarded with suspicion and tried hard to induce me to barter with them. It was a curious thing that all the islanders seemed to think that we had a mysterious bottomless store from which we could go on supplying quantities of pipes, tobacco, foodstuffs, etc. etc., in exchange for the most valueless trash. Knowing that as a community they stood in great need of copper nails for their boats I offered them a seven-pound bag, our all, which we could ill spare. No one man would burden himself with this on behalf of the community and it was finally left aboard.

I made full allowances for the limitations of these people, but at last they became so troublesome that I ordered them back to their boats and got ready to put to sea. Just before the last lot left some of the older men came to me and thanked me for what we had been able to do. They included Henry Green, John Glass, Tom Rogers, Old Sam Swaine and Lavarello, the Italian. I told them that they must not thank me altogether, for they owed what I had given them to a man named John Rowett far across the sea in England. John Glass said in his high piping voice: “You will see Mr. Rowett again? Then tell him that he is the koindest man that I ever know.” I promised I would. Bob Glass also brought me a letter which he wanted me to send to Mr. Rowett for him. In return I thanked them, etc. etc. Just before leaving I received a long letter from the missionary Mr. Rogers, in which he expressed the appreciation of the islanders and sent a message of gratitude to Mr. Rowett.

Though very disgusted at the time with the behaviour of these people, I felt on more mature consideration that one could not fairly judge them by instances like this. They are ignorant, shut off almost completely from the world, horribly limited in outlook, and they realized that at this moment there was slipping away from them the only possible source of acquiring the many things they so badly needed. Indeed, looking back on the whole visit to Tristan da Cunha, I am surprised that they were not much more wild and uncivilized than we found them, and they were, I believe, at any rate the older men among them, really grateful for what we had been able to do.

I think their characters may be somewhat roughly summed up by describing them as “a lot of grown-up children.”

CHAPTER XI
TRISTAN DA CUNHA[13]

We arrived at Tristan da Cunha on May 20th, 1922, just as dawn was breaking. A fine rain was falling and all the upper part of the island was shrouded in mist. The islanders seemed to be still in bed, for we saw no signs of activity until Commander Wild blew the steam whistle, which brought them running from their houses in haste, evidently very excited, for we saw them pointing towards us. The men ran down a steep winding path leading to a beach of black sand where a number of boats were drawn up. They launched the boats and came out towards us as fast as they could row.

At first sight the people presented a curious spectacle. They were rather a wild-looking lot, and were clothed in every conceivable kind of male attire, which seemed to be the cast-off clothing of sailors who had called at the island. One man in particular was wearing the queerest mixture: an evening dress jacket, striped cotton shirt, dungaree trousers, whilst on his head was an officer’s peaked cap!