Life and Adventure in the South Pacific

by John D. Jones

With a strong breeze and all sail out, we were not long in reaching the Ladrone Islands. Tuesday, April 6th, at daylight, saw the island of Rota, bearing west half north, distant thirty miles. In the afternoon, in company with a boat from the “Mohawk,” we went on shore and procured a few hogs, yams, and fruit. This island is one of the most magnificent in appearance from the sea that we have yet seen. The land is moderately high, and thickly covered with evergreen foliage, with an occasional opening, showing the marks of cultivation. The town is built on a level spot of ground, with great regularity and neatness; the houses are all whitewashed or painted, and the streets kept clean. The inhabitants are very courteous and friendly, and evince quite a degree of civilization. They have a fine-looking church here, Roman Catholic, of course, which is built of stone, and looks much better on the outside than the inside. The governor received the captain, dressed in full uniform. He is a tall, noble-looking Spaniard, but the dress appeared as if it were made for some more bulky personage; perhaps he wore it ex-officio. One of the boys exclaimed, on seeing him, “The old governor’s clothes set like a purser’s shirt on a handspike.” His palace, as they term it, is a very comfortable-looking stone building, the calaboose adjoining it.

The next morning we were close in to the island of Guam. We took a pilot and proceeded to Umata Bay, where we dropped anchor about three P.M. Umata Bay is the watering-place for all whalers who refit at Guam, as it is the only point on the island where fresh water can be readily obtained. It is called a bay, but it is merely a roadstead, as ships anchoring here are exposed to the sea in all directions except the eastward.

Both ships’ companies were at it next morning rafting water, and made the old hills resound to the chorus of the merry song as they bent back to the tugging oar.

We took the opportunity of visiting the town of Marisa, situated three miles below Umata Bay, and found a very pretty village. The houses are all on one street, which is very long. One peculiarity we could not but notice: the street was swept very clean, and we observed many Spaniards of both sexes engaged in sweeping it, probably paying the penalty of breaking some law. The church here is a fine edifice, and contains two large bells, which ring out merrily for vespers. Although the governor has his permanent residence at Guam, yet he occasionally leaves the “heat and turmoil of city life,” and, taking his family for a visit to the “country,” spends a week or so in this village, where he has a large palace. After rambling around to our entire satisfaction, and spending the day very pleasantly, we returned with a fine breeze, the boat fairly flying through the water. We felt quite fatigued in consequence of our jaunt, but, after a refreshing rest, awoke next morning ready for another day’s tramp.

We improved the day in visiting the town of Umata Bay, and a short ramble in the mountains back. The village differed but little from that of Marisa: the same long street, swept clean; the same white houses; and, were it not for the absence of the palace and the difference in the country adjoining, one would almost imagine himself in the same village.

At two P.M. on Saturday, April 10th, we took on board the last of five hundred barrels of water, hove up the anchor with a will, and steered for the port of Apia. We arrived here the next morning, where we cast anchor. This is the anchorage, and the only safe one, for ships refitting at Guam, and is situated seven miles from the town or village of Guam, which is the capital of the group. The port of Apia is a fine bay, situated on the west side of the island, protected from the sea by a reef running across, with an entrance of about half a mile in width. This island, like nearly all in the Pacific, is surrounded by a coral reef. In the centre of the bay is a small island, on which is a fine-looking fort, with five or six guns mounted for the protection of the commerce of the island. We found several ships lying at anchor here, from some of which we obtained quite late news from home.

It is customary for ships that refit here to allow their men to go on shore and remain a week or ten days at a time, as the distance is so great—seven miles from town—that one day’s liberty at a time would be worth but little. Accordingly, on Monday, April 12th, the starboard watch were given a week’s liberty, while the other watch remained on board to paint ship. On landing, what was our surprise to see a large number of cows standing near, and, to our astonishment, we were informed that they were there for our accommodation, if we chose. For the sum of fifty cents we could enjoy a fine horseback ride on a cow “up to town.” As there were men from four ships going in company (nearly sixty of us), we all entered into the spirit of the affair, and each man selected his “horned beast” and mounted.

And now ensued a scene that beggars description. Leather thongs were made fast to the horns for the rider to hold on by, and the Spaniard, who led off on a noble animal, seeing all was ready, shouted “Arriva!” and away he went on the full run, the others following; the men having no saddles, some were rolling from side to side, some had seated themselves “wrong-end first,” and all, instead of hanging on to the thongs, reach forward, and, grasping the horns, hang on like grim death; the cows, with their heads stretched forward to the utmost, their bells jingling, each one bellowing and snorting, and their riders, instead of sitting upright, stretched in a horizontal position, their legs extended, and yelling like so many wild Indians; the old Spaniard shouting and singing in Spanish, and the whole cavalcade upon the full run—all this produced one of the wildest scenes imaginable. As the procession entered the town, Spaniards of both sexes, men, women, and children, rushed to the street, shouting and laughing at the “Americanos.” The old Spaniard kept on, and, after having made the circuit of the town, brought up at the “Grand Plaza” in front of the governor’s palace, the poor riders being almost insensible from the continual and deafening din that surrounded them.

They halted here, and all hands joyfully dismounted; the Spaniards crowded around to congratulate them on their good riding, but, paying no attention to them, they “vamosed” in search of a boarding-house. By the laws of the island, every white man or foreigner must have a boarding-house, and be within doors at eight P.M. This is necessary, that good order may be preserved in the night-time, and tends to prevent many disgraceful scenes that would otherwise occur.

The police here are very vigilant. Every person who keeps a boarding-house is compelled to report the names of his boarders, and about eight P.M. the captain of the police goes around to see if all are in. If any are absent from their respective houses, they are found and marched home; and should they be saucy, or show any belligerent spirit, off they go to the calaboose. This also tends to prevent desertions, as the governor allows no white man to remain on the island unless sick. There are a few old residents here who are exceptions, they being citizens.