Back to work on the nets indeed, for a final few days. The weather seems to have taken a turn for the tropical, and the sea is far the most comfortable place to work.  It is a definitely strenuous life, sailing the boats and hauling the nets nine or ten hours a day, but never dull.

            We have learned quite a lot that will prove useful - our fishing, boat handling and general survival skills have improved immensely, and Mama N has been giving us many hints on the local customs that I am sure have not been written down. She has “hit it off” quite considerably with Helen, and seems to have almost adopted her as an extra daughter (Helen jokes that she already has enough daughters to spare, but the other ones all need dowries paying for).

            Being “authentic” Polynesians with no tourist interest, the Noenokes have many tales to tell of life on the waves. Mama N keeps insisting we need feeding-up, all of us being far too skinny for their ideas of beauty. It seems that living on a raft at the mercy of wind and currents can lead to some months-long impromptu voyages of discovery – and indeed that must have been how Easter Island and Walpurgisnacht Atoll were first settled. Having eighty pounds of surplus weight would be an advantage there, I suppose – and might explain why Missy K is proud of her figure. She is definitely carrying enough spare fuel, so to speak, to drift to Easter Island and paddle back home against the current.

            I hated to disappoint Mama N, but I quite like my current shape – and when scrambling in and out of aircraft cockpits, the more agile the better. Samoa is famed for its wrestlers and weight lifters, but I have yet to hear of its gymnastic team.

            I had hoped Molly would have calmed down, but alas I was wrong. True, working flat out does tend to leave her with little excess energy to get into mischief, but she seems to be making the most of what she has. She begged an advance off me on our shore leave to go shopping, and now is the proud owner of a new and more powerful fishing spear-gun. A most formidable affair, with bungee rubber cords as thick as one’s thumb, and a three hundred pound draw weight (there is a very effective double lever system to pull the catch back, rather like a medieval crossbow.) As I write, she is sitting in the prow of the boat with it armed and loaded, looking for sharks (she says). The only two things she has managed to hit were a jellyfish and a sunfish – which the Noenokes cooked and presented to her with great ceremony, as everything we kill we are obliged to eat, this being a Tradition. Molly now knows that neither are remotely edible.

May 4th, 1935

After all the blazing heat of the past few days, we awoke in our hammocks hardly able to see the far end of the boat – a decidedly heavy “Pea-souper”, just like home. The fish seemed to be staying at home, and in any case Captain Sigmarsen would have an impossible task of finding us, so we had a fairly restful morning fixing nets and generally “housekeeping”.

            Just after lunch we saw the fog starting to break up, and were about to weigh anchor when again I heard voices from the fog – but no sound of any ship. The sound of oars carries quite a way, to say nothing of ship’s motors, but there was only a faint splashing. For a second I was looking out in the direction of the reef when the fog lifted suddenly – and saw three swimmers in the water. One of them turned our direction – and then they dived straight back underwater, vanishing without trace. Most alarming, as we were easily four miles off the Northern coast of Main Island.

            Paloma was in the next boat hauling up the anchor, and must have seen them too – yet she seemed not at all alarmed. I managed to get a quiet word with her later, and voiced concern that anyone would swim out so far from land. She seemed to find it highly amusing, and said something I could not quite catch about them rarely coming so close to the islands. Very odd! And yet I remember the shape that I thought was a shark, back in the underground hangar with the Sea Fleas – and the shapes that tried to intercept Soppy looked like and yet unlike sharks or dolphins. I think there are some exceedingly odd Natives around here – ones who do not pose for cameras or postcards.

May 5th, 1935

Just two days to go – and indeed the weather seems to be trying to put in as much holiday sunshine as it can. Quite scorching today – we swim every day in good weather, and were a couple of hours in the water helping Tihan, Potahic and Rinamo untangle some nets that had drifted onto a patch of stag-horn coral.  Tihan is quite amazing underwater – I have seen otter gentlemen diving that way, but one would not have thought hamsters had such skills. He can easily stay underwater for two minutes swimming vigorously, without even looking out of breath when he reaches the surface. Though the Noenokes would appear too rounded for any great bursts of speed, their stamina is quite amazing. If there are swimming marathons, I would certainly wager some of my allowance on their team. If I approved of wagering, that is – playing dice with Molly has quite cured any interest I may have had in such things.

            It has become a very pleasant routine, every morning this week Helen, Molly and myself have groomed and oiled – and in their case, applied Mama N’s sunburn prevention cream to relevant areas. A casual watcher would be hard pressed to spot we were “Euros” at all – as we speak the Spontoonie language onboard the boats, and have Mama N coach us on dress and behaviour.  Whenever an aircraft goes overhead, I remind myself that I will very soon be in a sweltering hot flight suit in full semi-tropical sunshine, that or sitting in a classroom working out wind drift and fuel flow problems. Definitely, we should make the most of our opportunities, especially now that Soppy is not around to object to them.

            We had been fishing of the West coast of Main Island, and put in for fresh water in a sheltered little bay not fifty yards across, definitely the most isolated piece of the island we have seen so far. There is a beach and a pleasantly wooded ledge – and then the cliffs go right up, six hundred feet of cliff and pathless forest, with Crater Lake somewhere on the far side.  Mama N announced we might as well land for the night, having just transferred our catch to the Ice Queen an hour before, but catching quite enough since then for a splendid feast. It was a fine evening indeed, the sun going down over the waves – and I spotted Helen vanishing into the trees with Potahic and a hammock.

            Dear Diary – whether it was the relaxed company, the prospect of another term behind desks and elbow-deep in oily engines or whatever – I found it was the most natural thing in the world to unship my own hammock, and invite Tihan for an evening walk. Things certainly do seem to happen naturally in these islands – and they did so. Again.

            I feel I should probably be worrying about this, but somehow it is resolutely failing to happen. Indeed, my only faint regret is that I may be starting with exceedingly high standards, and setting myself up for future disappointments! However, there have been none whatsoever so far – so far, so good. And I am furthering my education at the same time, having learned from Tihan some new words in the local language – so that’s all right.

May 6th, 1935 

Another fine day indeed! Mama N has been helping us with our oiling and costume – she has been teaching us some of the finer points of grooming, and what some of the fur comb-marks mean, now she says we are qualified to wear them. I blushed somewhat when checking my notes from our previous holiday and discovering exactly what Jirry’s sister “wrote” on us the first time we used Tulupas oil.

Mama N extended an open invite to all three of us to join her fleet any time we feel like it – which is very nice of her.    It really is quite flattering, I must say – having discovered she was joking about how much wedding dowry we are “worth”. Indeed, the more we are getting to know the locals, the more inviting their lifestyle becomes – and the less likely that we will open our mouths about what we have seen here. This may not be a coincidence. 

Helen has been speculating about the usefulness of having alternate plans – and indeed, now it seems that both the Noenokes and the Hoele’toemi clans would be happy to take us in should we need to. Of course, we are fully booked for a full course at Songmark – but a lot of things can happen in three years, if the last two terms are anything to go by. It is quite a sight, Mama N sitting under the shade with her two youngest cubs to feed, while she recounts fascinating Native tales and provides us with some decidedly Practical advice that was not in the timetable back at St. Winifred’s.  Looking after cubs is a definitely new experience for me – especially since her youngest do keep trying to … refuel from me, one might say.

            We spent part of the morning fixing nets and the palm-matting arch of our boats – who would have thought when I took those raffia-weaving classes at St. Winifred’s, how useful they would be? Helen and Molly are picking up the rudiments as well; though very skilled at basic repairs and construction, Helen has more experience with metal working than Traditional materials. Indeed, she is far better at working with aluminium than spelling it.

            One final afternoon of fishing, which we are now managing to get through without particular aches and pains. A month of exceedingly strenuous work has quite paid off – most of the expensively groomed tourists we see are really looking quite off-colour and unhealthy next to the Noenokes and ourselves. Our current lifestyle may be short on luxuries, but it leaves one exceedingly fit to enjoy what pleasures we do have.

            (Memo to myself – Tihan and myself must look exceedingly odd standing together in the boat – he being a third less tall but more than twice my width. At least there can be no confusion as to whose costume is whose in the dark. Mama N of course runs a respectable family boat, and everyone is back by dawn.)

May 7th, 1935

Alas! Farewell boats, farewell fresh air, farewell breezy Native costume. And farewell to Tihan and the other friendly Noenokes, as we parted company on the jetty at Beresby. We were due to report to Songmark for evening meal today, it being a Saturday. Molly complained that we should claim adverse winds and have one more night of it – but our Tutors would be sure to check. Plus, we will certainly need some time to “change gear” and prepare for classes on Monday; I for one am hardly feeling like sitting a Navigation exam right now.

            There are public baths and showers in Main Village, and we spent a few cowries each ruining our painstakingly oiled, combed and patterned fur – ready to don shirts and shorts once again. Fur decidedly feels flat and thin, after being accustomed to the Native waterproofing style.  Helen and Molly are quite pleased that the sun-tanning treatment Mama N provided looks likely to be long lasting – though I can imagine what some people will have to say about it, especially Madelene X who regards the idea of  “going Native” with utter horror. I hope Molly will keep quiet about certain events, but that may be too much to hope for.

            (Later) Back to Songmark – I am filling the last page of my waterproof notebook, before opening again my Diary proper.  We are all three smartly kitted-out in our uniforms, ready to go down and tell a version of our holiday adventures to our Tutors. At least there is no unpacking to be done – one advantage of dressing in the Native style, is a blessed lack of laundry and ironing! And as for starching – most Natives would hardly recognise laundry starch, and probably assume it to be a new invention – instant Poi.  But still, there are advantages – Maria returns tomorrow, and from the post room we have received new dance challenges from the Technical High School on Moon Island. 

            One hopes that some of our fellow students have had nice, relaxing holidays lying around eating pastries and chocolate on the beaches. Molly has checked our timetable, and we have a refresher self-defence class on Monday morning – with our current level of fitness, we should be like cruisers against wooden sailing junks. We may have some surprises in store for Madelene X if she provokes us in her usual style. Ah well, Dear Diary – a holiday over, and another long term ahead – but on Monday at least, there should be something to look forward to seeing!

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