. George
had always just eaten when I announced that dinner was ready, and
for answer he generally wrapped himself in his blankets and fell
asleep. The consequence was that each of us lived his own life, and
the companionship which might have made up for many insufficiencies
on board was lacking entirely.

It was the first sunny day after many rainy ones when the current
carried us through the channel. When we got on too slowly the oars
had to help. After several hours we arrived in the open, and a fresh
breeze carried us quickly alongside the small islands of Aore, Tutuba
and Malo. Blue, white-crested waves lifted us up so high that we could
look far over the foaming sea, and again we sank down in a valley,
out of which we could only see the nearest waves rolling threateningly
towards us. Behind us the little dinghy shot down the swells, gliding
on the water like a duck. In the late afternoon we approached the north
point of Malekula, and followed the west coast southward, towards the
country of the "Big Nambas"--our destination. Contrasting with other
islands of the archipelago, Malekula does not seem densely covered
with vegetation at this point. We do not see much of the impenetrable
bush, but rather a scanty growth of grass on the coral reefs, a few
shrubs and she-oaks, then a narrow belt of forest covering the steep
cliffs and sides of the hills, on whose backs we find extensive areas
covered with reed-grass. Even a luxuriant forest does not look gay
on a dull day, and this barren landscape looked most inhospitable in
the grey mist of the afternoon. We slowly followed a coast of ragged
coral patches, alternating with light sand beaches. Towards nightfall
we anchored near a stony shore, flanked by two high cliffs, in about
10 fathoms of the most transparent water. We could see in the depths
the irregular shapes of the rocks, separated by white sand, and the
soft mysterious colours in which the living coral shines like a giant
carpet. The sea was quiet as a pond, yet we were on the shores of
that endless ocean that reaches westward to the Torres Straits.

Torn clouds floated across the hills towards the north-west, the stars
shone dull, and it was very lonely and oppressively silent, nowhere
was there a trace of life, human or animal. Lying on deck, I listened
to the sound of the surf breaking in the different little bays near
and far, in a monotonous measure, soft and yet irresistible. It is
the voice of the sea