At Vava’u

Among the many canoes which had approached us while we were still under way was a double canoe, worthy of remark, from which we saw a stout, elderly man called Eixe Tupou ¹ climb on board. He immediately made us a present of the club he carried, a chicken and some roots ² and, rubbing our noses with his own, he greeted us amicably and made us welcome. We gave him two varas of baize in return for this immediate kindness and then invited him join us at table, where he conducted himself with great dignity, although admiring all that surrounded him. We felt he would never want to leave the corvette and that his presence might help us in limiting confusion and thieving inevitable with the large number of natives who had already come to visit us. It is hard to describe the good faith or perhaps the innocence with which these natives placed themselves at the mercy of the newly arrived vessel. Most of them carry no arms or, if they do, this is the first thing they will offer in exchange for any trifle, paying no attention to the precautionary method of armed sentinels, to the musket rack close at hand, or to a vigilance which can only be the telltale of a concerted plan in essence based on mistrust.