WHEN James Chalmers was twenty-four years of age, he and his wife left England for Australia in the John Williams. The lady he had married was eager to help in the great work that he had undertaken, so they were both very happy when they knew that they had really started on their long voyage. They enjoyed life on board ship and won many friends amongst the passengers and amongst the sailors.
The ship in which they sailed was new, and was one of the swiftest on the sea. She had been built with money given by hundreds of children, that she might take Mr. and Mrs. Chalmers and others who went to live as they did, from island to island on the Pacific sea.
They arrived safely at Sydney, in Australia, and from that town they sailed for the second part of their voyage.
The name of the island on which their first home was to be was Rarotonga. They could not go straight to it because others were on board, and the John Williams had to sail here and there amongst many islands. At one, two of her passengers must be left behind; at another, new voyagers must come on board; while here, there, and everywhere great bales of cargo must be landed. In these bales there were beads and knives, tomahawks and tobacco, and iron in bars, and rolls of cloth.
All these things were the money the white people used when they wished to buy food, or land, or boats, or houses from the people who lived in the islands.
It was very awkward to have to carry yards and yards of cloth instead of silver coins or bank notes! But bank notes and coins would have been of no use to the islanders; so the only way to do was to take to them what they wished, and the things the John Williams carried in her hold were the things they liked best.
Round many of the islands in the Pacific lie reefs. The reefs are built of coral by tiny insects, and they rise from a great depth almost to the surface of the water. The mingling colours of the coral are very wonderful when they are seen through the liquid blue and green of the waves.
But although these reefs are beautiful, they are very dangerous. If a ship runs upon one, the great waves quickly dash her to pieces as they break over her.
There are openings where the reef is broken for a short distance, or where its crest lies so far under the surface of the water that boats may safely enter the calm bays that lie within.
Very few ships had sailed in those seas fifty years ago. The captains had to guess where the reefs lay. Sometimes they sailed slowly, dropping a long line with a weight at the end of it, to find out if the ship had entered more shallow water. This is called “heaving the lead.”
As the John Williams sailed near the first island at which she was to anchor, her passengers were watching the shore; they were delighted with the beauty of the island. It was a clear afternoon, and the rich land and trees offered a kind welcome to those who were to work there. Those who meant to go farther on, to other islands, thought that if this first stopping-place were like the others, there would, for them too, be much to enjoy.
The reefs amongst which their vessel was sailing were beautiful, and their eyes were dazzled by the glisten and glimmer of colour under the water at the ship’s side.
All at once those who were not standing very firmly on the deck were thrown down, and every one was trying not to believe the truth. But very soon no one could doubt it. Their beautiful ship had run on an unseen rock. She had all sail set and was going fast, so it was with a great crash that she struck.
Every one thought of what must be done to save the ship and her cargo. If they had had time to look round they would have seen hundreds of dark men running about the shore and hauling canoes to the water’s edge. In a very short time the canoes were all round the ship, and the men were clambering up on deck.
Though they knew very little English, they all spoke at once, and they shook hands with every one. Then they began to help to work. It was a strange sight. Dark men and white all together hauled down the sails and launched the boats. Close to the reef, dark men dived into the water with blankets soaked in tar. They hoped to stop the holes the reef had made in the ship. White men gathered clothes and books and cargo together, and saw them put into the boats to be sent on shore. Through all the noise of boxes hauled along the decks and thrown out of the way, and high voices shouting questions and orders, came the steady thud of the pumps and the swish of the water as it poured back to the sea from the hold.
At high water the ship looked shattered, it is true, but when low tide came she looked ridiculous. Her stern went down as the tide fell, but her bows stuck fast high up on the reef. She looked like a great rocking-horse whose head has got so high that it cannot get down again.
So she rocked up and down twice a day with the tide, till at last, after all her cargo had been taken on shore, she was heaved off the reef into deep water. A great shout of joy rose as she slipped free.
But though she was free, she was greatly damaged, and had to go back to Sydney for repairs. She returned to the island nearly ten weeks later, as strong and seaworthy as ever.
Then they sailed away again, first to the Loyalty Islands and then to Savage Island.
Mr. and Mrs. Chalmers saw how glad many of the natives were to welcome back their white friends. They saw, too, that the lives of men and women who had been savages had become noble and brave because white men who loved Jesus Christ had gone to live amongst them. This made them long greatly to reach their own home and begin work there.
The ship was ready to sail from Savage Island. All the bales of cloth and the bars of iron that were to be left there had been put on shore. The cocoanuts and other gifts that the natives had brought had been taken to the ship. Every one hoped to sail for Samoa next morning. Mr. and Mrs. Chalmers went on board, while some of those who were to sail with them stayed on land for one night longer.
At night the wind fell and a great calm lay on everything. The John Williams lay out to sea, far beyond the reef, with her bow heading away from the island. The air was warm and the southern night seemed full of peace to all except the captain.
Though the ship had been lying waiting to set sail, she was not at anchor. No anchor could find holding-ground in the great depth of water.
The captain saw that his ship had been caught in a current, and that she was being carried steadily backwards to the island. Between the ship and the island lay the reef!
The John Williams had three boats. One after another they were launched and filled with rowers. Each boat carried a strong line with her. By these three lines the captain hoped the boats might hold the vessel against the current. The men were strong and eager to save their ship. They rowed to the seaward side of her and pulled hard at the oars. They toiled on and on till they were tired and aching, but still they lost way. Faster and faster the ship drifted towards the reef, dragging her boats after her.
Again they tried to anchor, but still no bottom could be found. Darkness fell deeper around them. Every sail was set in the hope that some breeze off the land might come in time. Blue lights were burnt on deck, that their friends on shore might know of their danger.
Thunder muttered. Flashes of lightning gleamed across the darkened sky. The white surf loomed nearer and nearer; the ship rose and fell on the backwash of the waves that broke on the reef.
Nothing could save her, but lives must be saved if possible. Seventy-two people were packed into the three boats, and very soon after the last one had left her side, the John Williams struck the reef.
Rain poured down on the open boats as they rowed sadly from the wreck. The landing-place was some miles away, and the surf was foaming wildly.
Earlier in the evening those on shore had caught sight of the blue lights. Some had run along the rocks to a point near the wreck. As they ran, the natives kept up a hooting cry that roused every one by the way. It was eerie to hear their call through the darkness and storm.
By the time the boats were trying to reach the shore, fires and torches burned brightly all round the bay to guide their rowers.
But no boat could reach the shore that night. The poor drenched voyagers had to leave their boats and get into canoes, then to leave the canoes and be carried by natives through the surf! In spite of all, they reached land safely.
But it was with sad hearts that they looked out across the bay at the wreck of their ship during the days that followed.
At last, in spite of many other delays, more than sixteen months after they had sailed from England, Mr. and Mrs. Chalmers reached the island of Rarotonga, where their home was now to be. The natives there knew a little English. As one of them carried Mr. Chalmers ashore he turned to him and asked:
“What fellow name belong you?”
“Chalmers.”
Natives were crowding on the shore to see the stranger and to hear who he was. The man who carried him wished to be the first to find out and to tell the others. But the “Ch” and the “s” were too harsh for him to say, so instead of “Chalmers,” he shouted, “Tamate!” And Mr. Chalmers was called “Tamate” to the end of his life. Mrs. Chalmers was called “Tamate Vaine,” which was the native way of saying “the wife of Chalmers.”