We sighted Tahiti on the 16th of September, 1915, sailed along its coast with interest, and anchored in the afternoon at Papeete on the north shore. It was wonderful to return once more to the great world, even in its modified form at Tahiti, and the Rip van Winkle sensation was most curious. The Consul, Mr. H. A. Richards, was early on board with a kind welcome, and sent us round the longed-for sacks containing a year’s accumulation of letters and newspapers. The mail, however, brought bad personal news, and though life had to go on as usual, recollections of the island have suffered from every point of view.[[86]]
Tahiti, as seen from the sea, with its mass of broken mountains covered with verdure, is undoubtedly very beautiful; and the sunset effects over the neighbouring island of Moorea are particularly striking. The lagoon too is fascinating, and refreshing expeditions were made in the motor launch to study the wonders of its protecting coral reef. When on land, however, the charm of the island is somewhat dissipated. The inhabited strip round the coast, which varies from nothing up to some two miles in width, is covered with bungalows and little native properties, and is so full of coconuts and palms that all effect of the mountains is lost. Though it was only the month of September at the time of our visit it was very hot and airless, making all mental and physical exertion an effort. I went one morning for a walk at 6.30 in the hope of better things, but even then it felt as if Nature had forgotten to open her windows. The wild charm of romance which greeted the early voyagers and which must have assuaged the struggle of the first missionaries is now no more. Papeete is civilised: it is a port for the mail steamers between America and New Zealand. It is under French rule, but a large proportion of business is in the hands of the British and also of the Chinese.
We lived at the hotel, as Mana had to go on the slip, and had an interesting fellow-guest in an American geologist. He was travelling in the Pacific with the object of proving that it had never been a continent, but that the islands were sporadic volcanic upheavals from the ocean bed. He had found himself involved in the everlasting quarrel between geologists and biologists, who each want the world constructed to prove their own theories. In this case a biologist wished for continuity of land to account for the presence of the same snail in islands far removed. Our friend had contended that the molluscs might have travelled on drift-wood, but was told in reply that salt water did not “suit their constitution.” He had then argued that they could easily have gone with the food in native canoes. “Anyhow,” he concluded, with a delightful Yankee drawl, “to have the floor of the ocean raised up fifteen thousand feet, for his snails to crawl over, is just too much.”
S. was presented by the Consul to the French Governor, and I called, according to instructions, to pay my respects to his wife, who proved to be both young and charming. She was good enough subsequently to send an invitation to a tea-party, which differed interestingly from similar functions at home. It took place in a large room where twenty chairs, covered with brocade, were arranged in a circle which was broken only by a settee. On this sat the hostess, and by her side, either as the greatest stranger, or as having taken the precaution to be an early arrival, the Stewardess of the Mana. One by one the chairs filled up, and each fresh arrival, after greeting her entertainer, went round and shook hands with every one already there. The hostess retained her seat, from which she conversed across to various points of the circle. No one moved except that when a delightful tea came in, it was handed round by the young girls; no servant appeared—they are almost impossible to get. The Governor earned our particular gratitude by his kindness in sending daily a copy of the war bulletin, which arrived by wireless from Honolulu and New Zealand; though the installation was not at the time sufficiently advanced to be capable of sending out messages.
The Germans were interned in the bay on what was known as Quarantine Island, and were employed to do a certain amount of leisurely work on the roads, at a comparatively high rate of pay; at the same time the French subjects, native and half-caste, had been called up for much harder military service and received the standard remuneration, which was much lower. It was commonly reported that the latter had sent in a petition humbly begging that they might be considered as German prisoners.
FIG. 13O.
OCÉANIE FRANÇAISE ANCIEN TAHITI
A TAHITIAN PICTURE POST-CARD,
Used as menu card at a luncheon given by the ex-Queen Marau.
1. Papeete, capital of Tahiti, with the Island of Moorea in the distance. From a sketch by Miss Gordon Cumming. 2. Queen Pomare IV. 3. King Pomare V. 4. Titaua, sister of Queen Marau. 5. The harbour of Papeete. 6. Himène (or chorus) singers: performance in honour of Accession of Pomare V and Marau. From a sketch by Miss Gordon Cumming, 1877. 7. Queen Marau, with autograph.
During our time on the island the anniversary occurred of the visit of Von Spee’s fleet on their way to Easter Island, and the trees were adorned with official notices proclaiming a public holiday in memory of the French victory. What happened on that occasion is not precisely clear, and each person gives a different account. It seems, however, that as the cruisers Scharnhorst and Gneisenau appeared without any proper announcement, the shore batteries fired across their bows to stop them. The Germans replied, and some houses in the town were set on fire. The French gun-boat Zelée was sunk in the harbour, also a German ship which had been taken as a prize. The custodian of the coal supply set it on fire to prevent it from falling into the enemy’s hands; this action was subsequently justified, as it transpired that the Germans had given out that they were going to Papeete in order to obtain coal. After a certain number of shots had passed in both directions, the enemy went on their way.
We had particular pleasure in making the acquaintance of the late Queen, widow of Pomare V., an able and cultured lady, who lives in a villa in Papeete, and calls herself simply “Madame Marau Taaroa.” She was kind enough to lend us a valuable book written by her mother, Arii Taimai, which tells the history of the island as related by family traditions and combines with this account the information given by the early voyagers. Her charming daughter, Princess Takau Pomare, who had been educated in Paris, placed us under a great obligation by constituting herself our cicerone. She took us to see the monument on Venus Point, erected to mark the spot where Cook observed the transit of Venus; and also the Pomare mausoleum. Miss Gordon Cumming records that it was the ancient habit at Tahiti for the dead to be placed in a house, watched till only dust and ashes remained, and then buried securely in the mountain to guard against possible desecration; this custom, she states, still survived in her day in the case of departed royalty.
We had also a delightful motor drive with the Princess to some family property on the south side of the island, lunching at a small hotel which was nothing if not up-to-date, being dignified with the name of the Tipperary Hotel. The proprietor, a Frenchman, advertised it by stating that while it was a “long, long way to Tipperary,” it was only a short way to his establishment. He had adorned the walls of the dining-room with large frescoes of the flags of the Allies, leaving, as he explained, “plenty of room for Holland, Greece, and America.”