Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1935)

Leaves of Absence [ CONTINUED FROM PAGE 57 Presents ove r. the steward brought in a real cake. Afterwards, we went to the ship's movie. It was a wow. an old silent full of hokum; lots of gnashed teeth and clenched fists. So far the weather's been on the muggy side, but Captain Toten promises that tomorrow we can break out our tropical whites. September 1 — The War Department could learn a lot through a trip on the Maunganui—the bugler who wakens us has a repertory. Why doesn't the army scrap reveille and waken itself with "The Farmer in the Dell," "The Bells of St. Mary's," and "A Hunting We Will Go?" It takes the curse off rolling out. Warm weather and a blue sky today as per the skipper's promise. A dance on deck in the afternoon turned out to be fun despite the few dancers. /^HIKF Steward Taylor admitted today that ^-'he hadn't been ashore in Papeete since his first voyage on this run some years ago. From what I've heard of Papeete, that takes character in a sea-farin' man. September 2 — This morning we met and talked with Hall. His four-year-old daughter is with him and she and Florence struck up a great friendship. Hall told us many things about Tahiti and has us excited with the prospects of bicycling around it — eighty miles. Another thing he made us want to do is hike three hours inland to a place where there's a waterfall down which one can cascade into a deep pool. Here's my opportunity to lay forever a childhood desire to go over Niagara in a barrel. September 3 — An unusually calm sea today, and a variety of fish sighted; flying fish, porpoise, a small sailfish that we heard the sailors call Spanish galleon (I wonder if they're the same fish as the Portuguese man-o'-war of the Mediterranean?). Tonight they showed another silent picture, "The Whirl of Life." It was surprisingly good, well photographed and with astonishing crowd effects. Ate my first bubble-and-squeak today. I was disappointed in this famed English dish of fried cabbage and potatoes. But what a name for any dish to live up to! September 5 — Happy birthday to Florence! We crossed the equator today and I hoped they'd have the King Neptune celebration I'd heard was part of the trip on every boat that crosses the line. Not that I wanted to see a lot of costumed people ducking other costumed people in the ship's canvas pool, but I wanted to tell Florence that I'd arranged it all in her honor. She'd have been greatly touched and not a little puzzled. But the ceremony was never held, so I couldn't take a Hollywood bow. September 6 — Just before going into dinner we saw the Southern Cross, the first time for any of us. Florence and T decided that we prefer the Big Dipper. September 7 — Next to "Man overboard!" the most exciting cry .it sea is "A whale!" Todax we sighted a whale. As a matter of fact we not only sighted it, we skewered it. We four were deck tennising when the cry went up, and when we rushed forward to where most of the pointing was going on we discovered that we were fast in an enormous rhinodon, or whale-shark. I offered to pay for whatever delay the ship might incur taking it aboard, but the officers said that our cargo booms were not strong enough to handle it. They estimated its weight about ten tons. Jack was able to get several shots of the rhinodon with his Leica before we backed off and it sank. Hope they come out, a ship doesn't hit a rhinodon every day in the week. September 8 — Up at five to see the sun rise over Tahiti. It was beautiful as nothing else shall ever be. Coming alongside the quay was so thrilling I almost bawled. It was only about six then, but the bund was crowded with people afoot, on bicycles, and in ridiculous carts, as well as in cars, all waiting for this, the monthly boat. Florence whispered that it was almost like a Gilbert and Sullivan operetta with the houses painted on a superb backdrop. She expected the people ashore to burst into the opening chorus at any minute. Papeete isn't squalid. We'd expected it to be from several accounts we'd had of it, but it seems charming and peaceful. We're staying about twelve miles out at "The Plantation," a two-hundred-acre coconut grove smack on a lagoon. Phil and Florence could hardly wait to find a secluded spot, where, they bragged, they went swimming without suits. After dinner — they serve coconut water with the meals — Fario, a native neighbor, her maid, and several boys came over in front of our porch and played guitars and sang. The natives are almost childlike in accepting one as a friend. Already the taxi driver whose car we've hired for our stay calls me Fredrique and acts as if we'd known each other for years. But without any offensive familiarity. TONIGHT our hosts, Mr. and Mrs. Cook, ' brought us leis of beautiful and fragrant flowers, hibiscus, tiara tahiti, bougainvillea. If a Tahitian wears a flower behind the left ear it means, "I have a lover;" behind the right, "I want a lover;" flowers behind both ears mean, "I have a lover of whom I'm tired, and want another." I've known all along that ears couldn't be just for hearing with. September 9 — A quiet day: a drive further out into the country, a swim, a walk along the beach. How cheery the natives are; everyone you pass has a bright "Bon Jour." The French must be good colonizers. September 10 — Up at six for a long day. In the morning, we all canoed out on the lagoon and watched the natives spear fish. They dive down and. corner their quarry in the coral — a scratch from which, by the way, is highly infectious. When we swam, we gave the reef a wide berth. In the afternoon we went to the Bougainville Club for rum punches and to enjoy the festivities that attend the sailing of the eastbound steamer. Met Charles Nordhoff, Hall's collaborator. He has five or six children and told us of the tragic death of his five-year-old son. The boy fell and scraped his nose, then developed lock-jaw. Oh! Nordhoff tells us that there are only two rhinodon skins extant, that the rhinodon that the Maunganui ran down would have been worth (could I have heard correctly?) §50,000! September 11 — Phil, Jack and I spent most of the day wan dering about in Papeete, while Florence stayed out at the Plantation talking native customs with Mr. Cook. He says that on his property is the altar at which Captain Cook witnessed a human sacrifice when he first visited the islands. The altar has been so identified by the Bishop Museum of Honolulu. September 12 — Tomorrow is Jack and Phil's wedding anniversary, so after luncheon, Florence and I sneaked off to engage an orchestra. That done, we saw the chief of Punauia, the tribal district in which we live, and arranged with him for a Paoa, a tribal dance relating the story of Tahiti's gods. After dinner we all went out on the lagoon in a canoe with a gasoline lamp, a harpoon, and a fish net that Jack whipped up out of old mosquito netting. The native canoes are called pirogues; they're dugouts about twenty feet long and would be unmanageable except foi the outriggers. THE water was still and clear and the fish ' rose to the light. Jack netted several small and colorful varieties, which we intend to preserve and take back for the Morgan and March kids. September 13 — Happy anniversary to Jack and Phil! After breakfast we had the presents, mostly native artifacts. There were parcus (native kilts), bracelets, hat bands made of strung Acacia seeds, a palm-frond basketful of shrimps from the cooks, paper-knives carved from fish swords, and a lugubrious human head made of a coconut. The head was weird, but quitt realistic. Jack and I took several pictures of it. Scudder Mersman, American Vice-Consul. and his wife had been invited out for the party in the evening and three other people wandered in and were asked to join us. They were introduced as our neighbors, Jim Franke, John Reison, and Mrs. Frances Purcell. The natives who were to entertain us arrived while we were still at dinner. About ten, when the moon had risen over the lagoon, the Paoa started. In front of the buildings, the natives had enclosed a large circle in uprooted banana trees. In this, by the brilliant glare of a gasoline lamp, they danced. There was no instrumental music for the Paoa. The men chanted and slapped their knees and the ground while the chief danced and recited the main story. And there was a dance chorus j whenever the old boy stopped for breath. September 14 — This afternoon we drove eleven miles the other side of Papeete to the leper colony. Jack and Phil and I went in, but Florence refused to budge from the car. We who did go were badly shaken by what we saw. I was scared pink when the whole French hospital staff insisted on shaking hands! Evidently the disease isn't as contagious as 93