1828 by the Russian Admiral Lütke, and just as we found ourselves off what is called "Middle Harbour," we remarked a boat of European construction making for the frigate. Two hours later it came alongside, with four natives and a white man, the latter of whom came on deck and offered his services to the Commodore as pilot. He proved to be a Yankee named Alexander Tellet, who had lived 20 years on the island as smith and carpenter, to which he added the functions of pilot for the harbour in which he lived. Presently we were surrounded by a considerable number of natives in elegant canoes streaked with red, and formed of hollowed-out trunks of trees with outriggers, which have very peculiar scaffold-like supports, so that there is a kind of platform formed in the centre of the canoe, whereon the master usually seats himself, but which serves on occasion for festive meetings, and even for a small dance! The sails, made of mats, are triangular, the most acute angle being confined between two long bamboos, while a third serves as a mast, the whole capable of being shifted to either end of the boat by one of the crew, according to the direction of the wind. While some were doing what they could in their small boats to keep within the speed of the frigate, though we were going pretty fast, just as parasites make fast to the shark, others followed us a little distance, like dolphins, those faithful companions of ships, as far as the nearest harbour. With the exception of a short apron of cocoa-palm leaves, the natives were quite naked, and seemed pretty well made. On their heads they wore a sort of projecting pent-hat,
also of palm-leaves, obviously intended to shield the eyes from the vertical rays of the sun, and in form most resembling those lamp shades which old men or youths with weak eyesight are with us in the habit of using to ward off the full glare of artificial light. Among the natives who favoured us with their escort, there were two who from their personal grace, their light colour of skin, and thoroughly European cast of features, especially attracted our attention. They were the sons of an Englishman named Hadley, who had been for many years resident on Mudock island, E. of Puynipet, where he supported himself by fishing and pilotage, and had married a native woman. Shortly before our arrival, Hadley had started with several hundred pounds of tortoise-shell for Hong-kong, whence he intended to sail for England. He had intrusted his two sons to the care of a European settler, who succeeded him as pilot on Mudock island. According to all appearance, however, Hadley had little intention of returning to this island, notwithstanding the family tie that should have bound him to it.
As we were coasting along the west side of the island about 1 to 17 miles from the reefs, Tellet was overwhelmed with questions on every hand and on every possible subject, and among other subjects of information we presently found that the chief intercourse of foreign ships was carried on with Roankiddi or Lee Harbour, some 15 or 20 miles distant, and Metetemai or Foul-weather Harbour, which lies six or seven miles E. of Roankiddi. During the N.E. trade (November
to April), from 50 to 60 American whalers put in to Puynipet to take in wood and water, and fresh provisions, chiefly yams, taro, sweet potato, poultry, and pigs. Many ships, moreover, bound from Sydney for China prefer at that season the voyage through the Pacific to passing round the south of Australia, and thence through the Straits of Sunda, or the yet more dangerous passage through Torres Straits, and usually make a tolerably fast run. Thus the Swedish corvette Eugénie, on her voyage round the globe, performed in November, 1852, the astonishing feat of making the passage from Sydney to Hong-kong, 5000 miles, in the unprecedentedly short space of 37 days!
The number of aborigines on this island, which is about 60 miles in circumference, was estimated by Tellet at about 2000. Formerly it was as many as 5000,[192] but the small-pox had since then committed fearful ravages among the population. The circumstances under which this frightful scourge was first introduced into Puynipet, throw considerable light upon the history of the spread of that disease, as well as much useful information upon the question of vaccination.
In 1854, the English barque Delta arrived at Roankiddi
Harbour, with one of her crew ill with small-pox. The white settlers then on the island, who were well acquainted with the virulence of the disease, implored the native chief to forbid the captain's remaining, and insist on his putting to sea forthwith. The latter, however, seemed determined to leave the patient on the island. When he learned the hostile feeling of the population to himself and the crew, and found that they would neither take his sick man off his hands, nor supply himself and ship's company with provisions, he availed himself of the silence and obscurity of night to deposit the sick man on the shore with all his property, and at daybreak made off under full sail. Next morning the natives found the unfortunate wretch stretched suffering and utterly helpless on the strand, while the barque was no longer in sight. Hostility to the captain was now converted into sympathy with, and active compassion for, the sick man; a couch was prepared in an adjacent hut, and as much attention lavished on him as was possible under the circumstances; but his effects, consisting chiefly of linen and upper clothing, were speedily appropriated by the thievish natives. A few weeks later the small-pox broke out with frightful violence, and raged five months with undiminished severity all over the island. Almost every one of the natives was attacked, and of 5000 inhabitants 3000 succumbed to the virulence of the epidemic. The sailor, however, with whom first originated this terrible fatality, completely recovered. His clothing,
scattered through every part of the island, had no doubt essentially contributed to the speedy diffusion of the malady. Of the thirty white settlers, who had all been inoculated, only one was attacked, and he soon got well again. In August, 1854, the destroyer disappeared almost as suddenly as he came, and has since then spared Puynipet a second visit, but wherever one goes the traces of the disease are visible in the faces and on the bodies of the natives.
While picking up this information, we were getting nearer and nearer to Roankiddi Harbour on the S.W. of the island, and Tellet now stated he could not undertake to conduct us further, as there resided a pilot in the harbour whom he was not unwilling to give a job to. Another boat was now approaching the frigate, which had on board the regular pilot of Roankiddi Harbour, a Virginia Negro, named Johnson. Our man Tellet now took his leave, and set out in his boat on his return to Middle Harbour. Many a longing glance did we cast at the spot, where for the first time we were to be privileged to examine the wonders of the coral beds of the South Sea. For Puynipet is one of the finest examples known of a lofty island of the great ocean regularly hemmed in by wall-like reefs, by far the majority of the other islands being mere low "atolls." Unfortunately the breeze was unsteady and very light; the sky looked so gloomy and threatening that we had to haul off again from the island, and steer to the S.E., so as not to approach the reef too closely during the night. In the morning we once
more neared the island, under the influence of a gentle west wind, having run 15 miles out during the night. Gradually the small wooded or rocky islets hove in sight again, which, stretching northward from the great central mass, 2860 feet in height, surround the lofty island like a ring, inside of the wall-reef, which encompasses it at a distance of from one to two miles. We tacked about during the whole day with light variable winds from the west, and by evening had got sufficiently near our anchorage, that every one expected by a last tack to fetch it ere night set in, when the breeze suddenly shifted, died away, and once more compelled us to withdraw to a safe distance from the island, and pass the night under easy sail. At length, on 18th September, a fresh leading wind from the westward promised to carry us in without further delay.