A Fiji war drum is beating above my head. Wearily, I drop down from the upper bunk to the sound. The sun has not come up yet and the air is cold. Fijians, rolled up in their sleeping mats, some covered with towels, litter the deck like woolly headed cocoons.
The little Belama can carry 12 cabin passengers and 90 deck passengers. Each sleeping-deck passenger is allotted a space two feet by eight feet, each sitting-deck passenger a space 4 feet by 1 1/2 feet. Every inch of the deck is filled, but it is not clear by how many ”sitters” and how many ”sleepers.” The two categories are jumbled together in a multicolored, amorphous mass. It takes some fancy footwork to cross the expanse of deck without stepping on a sleeping Fijian.
The thumping noise gets louder. Forward, under the bridge, five men sit around a fellow who is pounding in what looks like an old-fashioned wooden butter churn. A big, young Fijian good-naturedly beckons me to join them. His name is Jess. He and his friends have been in Suva and are returning to their village, which lies on the far side of the island we are now approaching. Jess`s buddy is crushing root to make kava, the seminarcotic beverage that is the national drink of the Fiji Islands. The men have been drinking it all night and their eyes are glazed. I am immediately offered a cup. It is 6 o`clock and I would much rather have coffee, but I take a sip rather than offend them. It tastes like dirty dishwater and numbs my tongue. The custom is to down the whole bowl. I tell them, thanks, but I never drink kava before breakfast.
We start talking about their island and in five minutes the seven of us are like long-lost brothers. It is not the kava. It is the friendliness of the Fijians. And it is life aboard the Belama, a tramp freighter, one that sails on no scheduled route but travels when and to wherever the owner or agent can find a cargo.
Endangered species, tramps are being replaced by automated, computerized freighters-usually called container vessels-as different from the tramps as a Concorde is from a 1914 biplane.
It is not only the tramp freighter that is a vanishing breed; so are the men who sail the tramps, the people and companies that own them and the isolated communities that depend on these vessels as their only link with the outside world.
With ship modernization comes the technologically oriented sailor who uses computers and pushes buttons rather than the tramp`s jack-of-all-trades, some of whom went to sea in the sailing ship era and do everything aboard the tramps, including innovative repairs when antiquated machinery fails. And with the spread of tourism to remote corners of the Earth, the unique villages that are the tramp`s ports of call become homogenized little replicas of urban counterparts or are developed into posh resorts. So it is not just the ships but entire subcultures surrounding them that are disappearing.
Photographer Judy Howard and I were aboard the Belama, one of four South Pacific ships and one of 20 tramps we visited around the world to compile stories and photographs on the dwindling number of tramps.
On this trip, the Belama`s first stop was Vunisea, the only real town on the island of Kadavu (pronounced Kah-Dah-voo). Lying south of the main island of Viti Levu, on which the city of Suva is located, Kadavu is a sparsely populated 40-mile stretch of mountains. Vunisea boasts not only the island`s only airfield and wharf, but also its only two miles of road, running from the airfield to the wharf. Houses, some small stores and a few dilapidated public works buildings are spotted helter-skelter amid bougainvillea, palms and giant ferns. Tethered cows and goats munch lazily alongside the coral road. Building materials go off the Belama and not much comes on. In an hour she is away again, heading west to the island`s other villages.
Jess and his friends are still drinking kava. He lived for eight years in Suva, second largest city after Papeete, in the South Pacific, working as a bookbinder in the government printing office. I ask him what differences exist between city and village life. With a frown he says: ”Well, living in Suva, it is a worrying life. You know every movement of life has to concern money. You have to have it for everything. In Kadavu you don`t have to bother about it-money is not part of life. In the Fijian village life the only thing that is important is that you have to look after everyone related to you. I mean, if you have food or something they need, you give it to them or loan it to them. The tradition with Fiji life is, for example, if there is a family who`s lost a husband and maybe the mother and the grandmother are there and there is no one to look after them, we in the village look after that family. You go fishing and give them some fish. You go to the bush, you bring them some food. It`s not a fact of helping each other; it`s part of life.”
We have been sailing about a mile out, parallelling the spiny green mountains that range down the island. Now the Belama pulls in close to a small village called Richmond. Slings of plywood are lowered into the workboats that come alongside. One workboat heads in to the beach loaded high with plywood and bags of cement, topped off by a new Yamaha outboard still in its crate. All these supplies are for the new Methodist school under construction. The workboat ferries back new passengers, who bring with them burlap bags of kava root.
As the Belama makes her way around the island, she stops at one bay after another, usually anchoring in deep water outside a coral reef. These reefs, constantly battered with waves, mother the calm turquoise lagoons inside them. Clouds shift across the mountains, coming and going. The rich greens of the mountains, the lagoon`s brilliant blue, and the deep aqua sea create a fantasy of color. Slowly but steadily the ship progresses down Kadavu`s north coast. The workboats shuttle back and forth to isolated villages, carrying building materials, drums of gasoline, and miscellaneous cargo, as well as passengers returning home. New passengers come on board bringing their crops, usually kava root, tapioca or sweet potatoes, to sell in Suva. This world provides a placid sense of continuity. Life here was the same yesterday; it will be the same tomorrow.
The Belama accommodates a large number of passengers relative to her length. She was built in Hong Kong for the British high commissioner, or governor general, of the Solomon Islands when they were still a British colony. The commissioner made his inspection tours on her. After five years she was sold to the Gilbert and Ellis Islands, where she was used for roughly the same purpose before those islands were formed into the Republic of Tarawa. Then the Belama was sold to the Wong Shipping Co., which also operates the 450-ton freighter Tovata, and the Evelyn, which is a 40-foot auxiliary cutter used to transport copra and supplies to and from Fiji`s smallest outer island. There are supposed to be 100 villages on Kadavu, and although we stopped at approximately six a day, by the second day, it seem as though we had stopped at half of them. It takes a long time to load the workboats, bring them through the reefs, unload and reload them, then return and discharge their small cargoes into the Belama.
The Wong Co. is fighting an uphill battle to stay in business. The cargoes are too small to justify the time it takes to load and discharge them. While passenger revenue helps, it still does not compensate for the low productivity of the ship. The Wongs` problems are not unusual. Many owners of the small tramps, plagued with old and inefficient vessels, plying routes on which there is little cargo, are barely staying afloat.
The new passengers on the Belama have settled in. A wild card game aft of the funnel has been going on all morning. Men drink kava, laugh, and slap their cards down on the deck. Women have their own space. In their bright sulus, or sarongs, they are busy weaving mats with colorful fringes, which they will sell when they get to Suva.
The women giggle and talk with each other while they work. Small children nestle in their laps.
One boy seems out of place. He does not laugh or join in the groups of other young men on the ship, but instead stays by himself, looking wistfully at the others. We begin talking. Estuva, a quiet 16-year-old, is returning to his village from Suva. He would like to stay in Suva and go to school or find a job, but there is little work available and he is needed at home. He has been staying with his cousins in the city, going to some wonderful cinemas, and having other exciting adventures.
Jess has been telling me that while the young people like the excitement of Suva, life is easier for them in the villages. I ask Estuva if the work he does in the village is easier than it would be in Suva. There is not a second`s hesitation in his voice.
”No,” he says. ”We have to go the forest to pick some yams to sell in the market. We always have to work in the garden-turning the soil, planting the crops, putting down the manure, and harvesting the crops. It`s really hard. I`m very lazy. I dislike doing this job.”
The Belama now begins to head into large Levuka Bay. Surf is breaking all around us as we pass through a small opening and drop anchor in the calm water. Three villages front the bay. One of these, Levuka, is Jess`s home. Judy and I accompany Jess and the kava drinkers in the workboat to their village. Children wait in the shallow water to greet us, and when they see Judy with her camera, they go crazy with joy. A Western woman seldom comes here-and especially not one with a camera.
We are treated like visiting royalty. All the elders come out to meet us. Jess proudly takes us for a tour through his village and introduces us to his family and friends.
Levuka is poor, with small concrete-block or thatched houses scattered over a hillside. Pigs and goats are penned or tethered at random. Chickens poke through the tall grass. A whitewashed masonry church stands by the water. It would be considered modest in a city, but here it looks impressive. We are taken to the village meeting house, a lovely traditional thatched structure that was built by the people and is the pride of the community. Here we meet with an elderly white-haired lady, the chief of the village. Everyone is friendly and we receive invitations to tea at various houses. Jess asks if we would like to spend the night at Levuka. Sadly we reply that we must go with the ship, now preparing to depart for its return to Suva. All the villagers come to wave us off.
A few stops farther on is the village where Estuva lives. I go down to the workboat to say goodbye to him, but he doesn`t appear. Halfway back to Suva, I see him sitting by himself in front of the hatch. Estuva does not want to talk anymore. I sit with him awhile. Late that night when the Belama arrives in Suva I look for him again to say goodbye and to offer him some encouragement. But he is nowhere to be seen.
GOT THE NERVE? HERE`S HOW TO TRAMP
It is still possible to sail on a tramp freighter, but the voyages are strictly for those whose wanderlust is stirred by the stuff of Conrad and Melville, Bogart and Hepburn.
They are not for people on tight schedules because tramps usually don`t have tight schedules-or any schedule at all.
Then there is a question of cleanliness, particularly for fastidious Americans. Half the tramps I have been on are downright grungy. Air conditioning generally does not exist, nor do private bathrooms.
If you expect haute cuisine, or even good food, you will probably be disappointed. You take your chances. Now if you still think you might want to sail on a tramp, here`s how to do it. You can make reservations for a few of the large tramp freighter lines, but since most tramps have no schedules, it is usually a question of applying at the local steamship offices. They will tell you what vessels are sailing, their approximate departure times, where they are headed and approximately when they are expected to return.
Since most local voyages are short, you can expect to return not more than a day or two late. The shorter the voyage, the smaller the chance of a long delay.
Generally, areas where there are a large number of sparsely populated islands are the best locations to look for tramps. The South Pacific spawns the most tramp operations, with vessels in the Fijis, the Cooks, Tahiti, Vanuatu, the Solomons and the Micronesian island groups.
Western Norway with its fjords is good for finding tramps, as is Denmark. Piraeus, Greece, and Istanbul, Turkey, are also good, but you MUST be exceedingly careful in those places.
Warning: Don`t sail without a good recommendation about the ship and captain from a reliable source. The same is true of the Middle East, most of Africa and Latin America. Young women should be particularly careful and, before boarding, make sure there is a lock on their cabin.
In many instances you will find that ships don`t take passengers as a rule. Usually, however, if there is an empty cabin, and if you tell the owner or captain how much you would love to travel on his ship and you promise to be absolutely no trouble, you can often secure passage. Charges are generally low, from $20 to $40 a day per person, including meals. Tips are minimal-just the steward (if there is one and if he does anything to help you).
A few basic rules to remember on a tramp voyage:
1. Eat what is served or bring your own (peanut butter, sardines, crackers, etc.).
2. Don`t complain if your cabin or the head is dirty, if things don`t work, and so on; you are not on a passenger liner.
3. Stay out of the way during loading or discharging. The loading areas are extremely dangerous. Ask where you should and should not go.
4. If at all possible, look at the ship and the accommodations before you ask to sail with her. On most tramp freighters, you sacrifice luxury and comforts, but you may be on the way to one of the great adventures of your life.
With large air-conditioned and carpeted bedrooms, private baths and excellent food, the Rolls Royce operations among the tramps are:
– American President Lines` Vagabond service from West Coast ports or various ports in Asia (a voyage can be from five weeks to over three months at a cost of approximately $8,100 per person double occupancy. Fares are based on a 90-day voyage. If the voyage is shorter, the passenger receives a refund. There is no additional charge for longer voyages. Contact: APL, 1800 Harrison St., Oakland, Calif. 94612; 415-272-848.
– Mineral Shipping (Yugoslavia) from U.S. ports to anywhere in the world
(a voyage from 35 to 70 days or longer at $4,500 a person double occupancy, adjusted to the length of the voyage).
– Columbus Line (Germany) from Hamburg to various ports around the world, $10,850 a person double occupancy.
For Mineral and Columbus, contact Freighter World Cruises, Suite 335, 180 S. Lake Ave., Pasadena, Calif. 91101; 818-449-3106.
