Along with two of my regular crew, I
was taking a small mixed cargo to various destinations around
the South West Pacific and Coral Sea. Our normal work, that
I won't go into here, was slow and we needed the exercise
in a futile effort to stop waistbands expanding.
'We had owned the 'Twilight Lady' for around seven years;
she was a two masted topsail schooner, with the capacity
to take just on 180 tons of dry cargo. Usually she had her
normal crew which was a mixture of Fijians, Solomon Islanders
and a few Tongans under an Australian captain. We had given
the skipper leave and were working the ship ourselves and
I mean work ... hands first got hot and then blistered and
bled, bones ached for hours after you woke up in the morning
and there just never seemed to be the time for sleep.
We had sailed from Suva to Lautoka, then
up to Espirito Santo and were now in Pt Vila, the capital
of what is now Vanuatu. From Lautoka the weather had been
rather kind to us something I was very grateful for as part
of our cargo was soft drinks (sodas) in bottles. Once before
I had carried this stuff and run into a real hooley - end
result ... well you just don't want to know but it wasn't
pretty.
Because of our work with the Mucky Ducks
we had a lot of friends in this part of the world so we
were all looking forward to some good food, many drinks
and quite a few chuckles.
On the way from the wharf into town there was an open sided
grass roof restaurant by the name of (for some reason) The
Hawaiian Hut. This place was a favorite with the crew because
of the great mud crabs, lobster and other seafood they served.
I can't eat seafood but that was no problem, they also did
the most tender, thick steaks I have ever had.
It was the sort of eatery, drinkery, where you would always
find a massive cross section of humanity. At one end there
were the international tourists who usually stayed for around
six nights; at the other were some of the best villains
in the South Pacific. Mainly these were seamen and you just
never asked as to what cargo they were carrying, well, not
if you wanted to see the sunrise the following morning.
The place didn't have fancy things like ashtrays, the floor
was sand so everything just got 'decked' and during the
night the sand was cleared away and a new lot added.
On this particular night we had arranged
to meet a very old friend who still lived in Pt Vila. Claude
had, at one time, been the most important man on the island
as he had been the keeper of flagpoles.
For those of you that don't know the history - Vanuatu used
to be called 'The New Hebrides' and was one of the few places
on the planet that it was governed by three countries at
the same time under the heading of The New Hebridian Condominium.
To make matters worse two of the three governments were
France and Great Britain - not exactly renowned for getting
along together. The third was the NH government. So everything
was in triplicate. Three police forces, three military posts,
three types of school, three hospitals etc. Now every section
had it's own flagpole, so as you can imagine the island
was a mass of them and it was Claude's very serious duty
to ensure that where three flagpole were together, none
was higher than the other.Plus the law of the island was
that you couldn't just put up one flagpole, is was three
or nothing. Poor old Claude he did have a hard time of it,
everybody accusing everybody else of one up-man-ship. He
was constantly with his old van, ladders and measures, on
the move.
Then quite suddenly on the 30th of July
1980 The New Hebrides was dissolved and Vanuatu came into
being - The French and British packed away their dress uniforms,
boarded ships and went home and life settled back into what,
for the area, became a quiet normalcy. Naturally Claude
was no longer required (actually he was Dutch, that's why
he got the job - he was classified as neutral) but having
spent most of his life on one island or another, rather
than go home he elected to stay and took tourists on island
tours - he also made very strange wine which he flogged
to some of the bars around town ... believe me, it was 'good
stuff'.
So, there we were, the four of us sitting
in the Hawaiian Hut in Pt Vila, and by moonlight watching
the waves crash on the shore (well perhaps not crash as
it was a very gentle night but you know what I mean). We
had got there around 1900 and it was now close to 0230 and
the night was winding down. We had to sail with the sunrise
and there was much to be done onboard.
We ordered one last bottle of something,
(can't remember what) and reluctantly started to gather
our wits prior to leaving. Taff, one of my guys, said to
Claude. "How did you do it for all those years - put
up with all the crap I mean" Claude looked at him for
a second or two, smiled and then said.
"'Easy, I cheated". He said it quite matter of
factly but I got the impression he had wanted to say it
for years. "I could put up with everything because
I knew that the English flagpoles were half an inch higher
than the others". He looked at us, waiting for a comment
and Taff soon jumped in with 'Why"? He was quite stunned
'Why the English, you didn't even like them very much? Claude
smiled.
"Also easy" he said, "They paid me the biggest
bribe". At this stage a few things started to fall
into place. Claude always had a few more dollars that a
civil servant in the islands would normally have.
"That explains a few things", I said, "So
it was ill-gotten gains from the Brits that kept you in
the good life style".
"Well, that and the other", he said "Both
the French and the NHs were bribing me, but they didn't
pay as well. I just told them that their poles were the
half inch higher". By this time I think we were all
starting to dissolve into uncontrolled laughter. The cunning
old swine, no wonder we liked him.
"But" said Morbid, the other of my guys, "didn't
anybody ever check"? Claude shook his head "No,
they were too busy with their plumed hats, tinned swords,
and social gatherings to actually ever do anything, I knew
I was safe".
We sailed at 0530; I remember it was a
terrific sunrise, the sort that makes the spirits soar.
Claude was on the wharf to see us off -none of us had had
any sleep as Claud had come back to "The Lady"
with us for a few last drinks and to finish the story. Sad
to say but that was last time I ever saw him.
I can now put the event on paper because
around six weeks ago I got the message that Claude had passed
away. He was 82, had a wife of 40 and a couple of girlfriends
- he also still made wine. The passing of Claude was to
be expected, but it's especially sad when another 'character'
leaves the stage. Soon it's going to be a very bland world,
political correctness is the virus that destroys all the
Claudes and this world is made smaller by their passing.
So, very sad yes - but Struth, we did have a lot of fun.
|
