A Boat Ride on the Pacific

A Boat Ride on the Pacific

BY JOSEPH V. NELSON

It was a hot, sultry day in the islands. The fierce heat of the

tropical sun beat down upon the thatched roofs of the native huts.

The brown-skinned natives were seen loitering along the rocks on

the coast hunting for crabs and shell-fish. Some were spending

their time sleeping to pass away the burning hours of the day.

The ocean is as calm as a mill-pond. A company is preparing

to leave the village by boat. It consists of about forty natives

in all —men, women and children, besides three white men.

The preparations are soon completed and the boat is pulled

through the waves by the brawny arms of the native oarsmen.

After getting well out into the sea, past a few large, dangerous

rocks which border the harbor, some of the men leap from the

boat and swim to shore leaving the inmates to the care of the sea.

The boat is on its way and glides along smoothly. A few

hours and the ocean commences to roll, and the boat is lifted, first

as it were to the top of a mountain, and then, let down as it were

into a valley beyond, up and down, up and down to the motion of

the waves.

A song is started up, and the shining brown backs of the

rowers move together, backward and forward, keeping time to

the strange, weird chant of the south seas. On and on they go.

Hour by hour they row, and the song floats over the waves to the

shore.

The sun is hot. It is late in the afternoon. Some of the

women and children have sheltered their faces from the rays of the

sun by covering themselves over with pieces of cloth, and have

gone to sleep.

Presently some cocoanuts, taro, bananas and pinapples are

brought into sight. The sleepers are aroused and grace is said.

The rowers cease their work and the food disappears. The melody

is again taken up, and the boat again proceeds to plow its way

through the waves, which by this time are not quite so peaceful

as when they first started.

A few more hours and the heat is not so intense, and the

sun soon seems to sink into the blue ocean depths. The rowers

again cease their work, and the singing stops while one of the

company arises and calls them to order. It is time for devotion.

A hymn is sung, with bowed heads a prayer is offered up to the

Creator of all, and the boat speeds on.

816 IMPROVEMENT ERA

The island of Savaii is rock-bound along the side where the

boat is passing, making it an impossibility to make a safe land-

ing. So all night long the craft withits contents is tossed up

and down upon the waves. All the rowers except two or three

stretch themselves out in the most comfortable positions attainable

and take a few hours of slumber, while the two or three paddle

just enough to keep the boat from drifting inland, and wishing

and waiting for time to pass, when their turn should come to

stretch out their weary bodies across the seats of the boat and en-

joy a few hours of unconsciousness.

The white men try to get a little sleep, but hardly used to the

mode of travel and failing to find anything comfortable to lie on,

they find it rather an impossible task.

It is a beautiful night, owing to the brightness of the tropical

moon. Every star seems to be clothed in its brightest, and not

a cloud is to be seen in the dark blue sky. The land to the left

is outlined against the sky and in places the stately cocoanut trees

can be seen rearing their heads high above the outline of the land,

making a very beautiful picture.

The shades of night finally disappear, taking with them the

stars and the moonlight, and in their places comes another day

with its tropical heat and South sea atmosphere.

Avillage where a safe landing can be made is sighted, and

the tired but happy company of travelers turn the course of the

boat towards the shore.

SAVAII, SAMOA