Life and Adventure in the South Pacific

by John D. Jones

The English have a missionary station here, established several years since. Some of the natives like the present missionary, and some do not. The chiefs or rulers uphold him, but the “people” say he is “no good;” he makes them “work too much.” One of them informed us—and we afterward found it to be true—that if a Kanaka failed to attend church on Sabbath, he had to pay the missionary one dollar, either in money or fruit; if he smoked on the Sabbath, the same penalty; and several other petty tyrannies are practiced, which has the effect of causing the natives to hate the missionary and the Gospel he teaches, and shows that unprincipled as well as good men are sent out, though not known to be such by those who send them, to spread the Gospel among the heathen. If a native wishes a Bible, he must pay the sum of one dollar for it, and the same if a sailor wants one. Such things as these tend more to cause a feeling of hatred against the missionary and his work than of love.

On this island is the grave of the Rev. John Williams, the pioneer missionary, who was universally beloved and respected by the natives. He was a noble as well as a good man, and was actuated by none but the purest motives. He faithfully labored to enlighten the heathen, and to diffuse the glorious blessings of the Gospel of Jesus Christ among them, and his labors were greatly blessed. After establishing several missionary stations, he went to the island of Tanna, one of the Hebrides, where the natives were cannibals, and groveling in the darkest superstition. On attempting to land, with a desire to create a friendly feeling with the natives, they rushed for him, and, as he attempted to reach the boat, he was struck by a spear and killed. They hauled the body clear of the beach, and refused to give it up. However, we learn they have since delivered up the remains, which were taken to Roratonga and buried. Thus perished this great and good man, at the hand of those to whom he would have done naught but good.

The staple commodity here is tobacco, which is very scarce, and readily commands a high price. For instance, half a pound of ordinary “plug” will purchase two hundred oranges, and other fruit in the same proportion. The natives, both male and female, are very much addicted to its use—never chewing, but forever smoking.

Quite a number of the natives came on board, wishing to go to sea with us, as they say “too much work ashore.” It appears they are building a church, and they do not wish to work, as they receive no pay. We are glad to be able to say that this missionary station is an exception; that at no other one that we visited during our wanderings were the natives tyrannized over as they were here. We are glad, too, for the honor of our country, that this missionary was not an American.

The government is administered by the queen and missionary, or, we should rather say, the missionary and the queen, as she is merely a nominal sovereign. She is a very dignified lady, weighing about three hundred pounds. Next in rank come the “chiefs,” who are members of the royal family, and, with the sovereigns above mentioned, form the council, or law-making power. Next come the “kikos,” or constables, who see that all laws are properly enforced, and arrest those who are guilty of violating them. As there was a law in force preventing any of the inhabitants leaving the island without the consent of the missionary, those who had come on board, wishing to go to sea with us, were compelled to return to land, which they did with sorrowful hearts. Our captain, however, obtained the necessary consent, and shipped three, whom he chose while ashore.

Wood and water all aboard, ship loaded down with luscious tropical fruit, such as oranges, bananas, pine-apples, cocoanuts, limes, lemons, plantains, etc., on Tuesday, June 25th, we were ready to take our departure from this lovely isle. In the last boat that went ashore this morning, one of the crew, by the name of Bob White, a miserable specimen of a most miserable Frenchman, who had imposed upon the captain, palming himself off as a “first-rate steward,” and who had been shipped in that capacity in America, but kicked forward the second day out from home, managed to steal into the boat unobserved, and, while ashore, deserted. All hands, from captain down, were glad to be well rid of him.

When once more at sea, the crew, on looking into chests and examining their possessions, begin to miss different articles of clothing, etc.: one has had his shoes stolen; another a shirt; another his blanket; another his jacket, etc. All appear to have lost something, and they say, if we had remained there much longer, the natives would have stolen us poor.

“Isle of booty, fare thee well.”

Perhaps, however, we were well recompensed, as, upon examination when the watch was set, we found that we had three more Kanakas than were shipped by the captain. The old ship had stolen them in return for the natives plundering her crew. The captain was much opposed to this proceeding on the part of the ship, but, as the island was now out of sight, and we were fast leaving it with a fair wind, he consented to their going with us.

Our old Kanaka friend, Jo Bob, who had come from America with us for the express purpose of going home and remaining, after being ashore a day or two, came on board, and wished to “go the voyage.” We were very much surprised at this, and at first could not account for it, but presently he “let the cat out of the bag,” saying the “Kanakas had got to work—build meetin’-house,” and, as he was a sailor, he spurned the idea of mixing mortar or carrying the hod. Jo thought the least of the two evils was the old ship; and he might well say that, for he was as lazy as a “Mahone soger,” and had seen easy times on board.