Rain Music
Page 4
As Bella walked along the seafront, tantalising aromas made the choice of food difficult and she could see that most of the cafés and restaurants were nearly full. Eventually she chose an Asian-fusion restaurant that had a small empty table in the front. She ordered Thai fish cakes and a crunchy Asian salad. When her glass of white wine came, she picked up her phone and rang her mother. She told her mother about Hidden Cove and her quick trip to Cairns.
‘I’m so glad you’re relaxing,’ said Josie. ‘It sounds so tropical. We had a change in the weather through yesterday and it’s freezing here at the moment.’
‘Yes, it’s certainly warmer here,’ Bella said, a soft breeze lifting her curls. ‘I’m thinking of going into the rainforest area, up to the Daintree.’
‘I didn’t expect you’d go so far. And you liked Cairns?’
‘It was fun for a day. Are you okay? How’re things there?’
‘Apart from this cold spell, all good. I’ll go over to your place tomorrow and water your plants and check your mail.’
‘Thanks, Mum. Don’t go out of your way, the plants will be fine and the letters will be bills. Ooh, my meal is here, looks fabulous. Talk soon. Love you.’
The waiter, Bella guessed, was a backpacker from Italy, and he lingered longer than was really necessary as he refilled her wineglass and gently probed into her plans. She was used to deflecting such overtures and charmingly let him know that she wasn’t going to be spending much time in Hidden Cove and definitely was not available for a holiday fling.
Somewhat chastened, he asked, ‘So where are you going after here?’
‘I thought I’d go up to the Daintree. Have you been there?’
‘I went to Cape Tribulation once but it is too dangerous, I think. Too much wildlife.’
‘You don’t like the wildlife?’
He shook his head. ‘No, too many crocodiles and very poisonous snakes. Some of the people are a bit crazy wild, too. I like cities. I am here for, you know . . .’ He rubbed his fingers together.
‘To make money? I’m sure you get a lot of tips,’ said Bella, smiling at the handsome man.
‘Si. But,’ he lowered his voice and leaned closer, ‘not from the young girls. The ladies, the mamas on their own. They like some talk, some company. How come you take holiday by yourself?’
Bella also lowered her voice. ‘I’m on a secret mission. I’m just pretending to be on a holiday.’ She tapped the side of her nose.
He looked puzzled for a moment, then burst out laughing. ‘Ah, bravo. A secret. I keep it to myself.’
Bella lifted her glass in a mock toast as he moved away. In his tight white T-shirt, his tanned, muscular arms were shown to full advantage. She had a slight twinge of guilt thinking of Brendan but then she laughed as the waiter winked at her. It was all in good fun.
Over her meal she googled information about the Daintree on her phone. If Ned was headed that way, was it for pleasure or performance? she wondered. The whole area looked beautiful and interesting, so she decided she’d go. Sometimes you just had to trust your intuition, thought Bella, and if she didn’t find Ned there, then she would enjoy a different part of the world.
After dinner she returned to her apartment and listened to the programme that Ned had done with Irene. Although she learned nothing further about his plans, she enjoyed listening to Ned speak. Ned was so passionate about his music. Moreover, the respect and enthusiasm that Irene had shown him in the interview indicated that the DJ also regarded him as a very serious and talented musician. Bella felt a swell of pride.
After listening to the interview, Bella phoned Irene’s friend Roberta. The introduction was fortuitous, and they spoke at length having immediately struck up a rapport. Bella didn’t tell her the actual purpose of her trip to north Queensland, but simply said that she wanted to explore a part of the country she’d never seen.
‘Being a World Heritage area, the Daintree Rainforest is a very, very special and rare environment,’ Roberta said. ‘As my family is connected to the area, I work with preservation, research and conservation bodies, so I can offer a more eco and cultural understanding by inviting people to join small working groups. I can take you if you’re up for that. I think you’ll find it deeply rewarding. I’m not into white-water rafting, skydiving, rock climbing or zipline jungle surfing through the canopy . . . I don’t offer anything like that.’
‘Good, I’m not into those sorts of extreme sports,’ Bella told her.
Bella was intrigued, not just because she wanted to see the Daintree but also because she wanted to see how tourism was managed in such a special and sensitive area. She decided straight away to accept Roberta’s invitation.
‘I’ll organise a tent and a sleeping bag for you, and of course the food. Just bring along a towel and basic necessities, including good walking shoes. No shampoo, I’m afraid. It pollutes the water system, but you’ll only be without it for three days. How about I pick you up when I have to go into Port Douglas?’ suggested Roberta.
Hanging up the phone, Bella found she was a bit surprised at herself. This kind of trip wasn’t the sort of thing she usually did.
‘You hate camping!’ Josie exclaimed when Bella told her of her plan.
But this was exactly the reason for my trip, Bella thought. I’ve got to try new things else I’m never going to know what’s out there.
Bella was glad she could spend the rest of the day doing very little at Hidden Cove. She walked along the beach, she read on her balcony, swam in the pool in the complex, read and dozed in the afternoon and, although usually gregarious, she happily ate another solitary dinner before going to bed with her book. She didn’t turn on the TV and she ignored phone calls from friends curious about what she was up to. She exchanged a few texts with Brendan but kept the content casual. Occasionally her mind would turn to work but she pushed those thoughts away. She needed some peace for now.
Bella arranged to meet Roberta in the resort town of Port Douglas, just south of the Daintree, where she could leave her car for a few days. She waited in the lobby of a small hotel, watching the groups of tourists come and go and hoping that she would have no trouble identifying Roberta.
She spotted Roberta the moment the guide strode briskly into the reception area dressed in khaki shorts and shirt and sturdy boots. She was brown skinned and seemed slightly older than Bella. Her dark, curly hair sprang from the confines of an elaborate hairclip and the large brown eyes in her attractive, strong-featured face were friendly. The women greeted each other with big smiles and Bella followed Roberta into the bright sunlight of the hot tropical morning.
‘You all set?’ Roberta said as she swung Bella’s gear into the rear of her Jeep. ‘We’re meeting the others down at the river crossing.’
As they drove north towards the cane town of Mossman, Bella gazed out over the lush green fields of mature sugar cane that lay on either side of the highway towards the forest-clad hills that rose behind them. Roberta came to a halt beside the narrow-gauge rail line to let a long cane train laden with wagons of cut cane chug past them.
‘These trains are so cute, like toy trains,’ said Bella.
‘It’s a very efficient way of getting the cane to the mills quickly. The cane needs to be crushed as soon as it’s cut to get the maximum value from it.’ Roberta paused as they watched the train rattle away. ‘It was the sugar cane industry that brought my ancestors to Australia. Not that they all exactly came by choice.’
‘Where did your ancestors come from?’ Bella asked.
‘My family originally comes from Melanesia, the South Sea Islands,’ answered Roberta. ‘The first member of my family came here in the 1870s when he was more or less shanghaied. You must have heard of blackbirding?’
‘Only vaguely,’ said Bella, suddenly feeling awkward. There was a fleeting expression on Roberta’s face that made Bella realise she wasn’t the
first person to admit to such ignorance.
Calmly Roberta explained, ‘In the late part of the nineteenth century, sugar cane began to be grown in tropical Queensland, but for the cane farmers to be able to compete with cheap world sugar prices, they needed cheap labour. So ships sailed to the Pacific Islands and induced young men, usually with a bribe of cheap shoddy goods, to become indentured labour. In some cases, strong-looking boys were just grabbed off the beach. They were brought to the cane fields and worked extremely hard cutting cane for very little money.’ Roberta’s face was composed but Bella could see her emotions shifting below the surface. ‘Of course it was argued that these men came to Australia voluntarily, but that’s rubbish. Those boys had no idea what was happening to them and if they did sign anything, they had no idea what they were signing because they were illiterate. This trade was called blackbirding.’
Bella was startled. ‘That’s appalling. Do you know how many Islanders were involved?’
‘No one is really sure, but it was possibly up to sixty thousand. Our own quiet slave trade.’
‘That’s outrageous. I had no idea,’ Bella exclaimed angrily. Suddenly the green of the cane fields either side of her seemed sinister. Not at all the tropical paradise that she had been admiring.
Roberta glanced at her and smiled. ‘You’re not alone there. Many Australians don’t know much about it either.’ The train rattled off into the distance and Roberta restarted the car and they resumed their journey.
‘Did any of these Islanders return home?’ Bella asked.
‘That’s the really bad part,’ Roberta said with a sigh. ‘Some of them returned home after their contracts expired, but many of them would sign up again after their initial indenture period, especially as their pay rates improved because they were considered to be experienced. Sadly, for some of them, contracts weren’t honoured and they never got paid. Then, over the years they lost contact with their homes and formed new relationships in Queensland. Many learned to read and write and most became Christians and developed an attachment to their church. The ambitious ones who had been here long enough saved to buy their own land and grew cane or fruit and vegetables.’
Bella glanced at Roberta and asked gently, ‘Is that what your family did?’
Roberta paused, but then said, ‘Yes, in the beginning.’ Her mouth quirked. ‘But at the turn of the twentieth century, when Australia became one country, there was a push by the national government for racial purity. All races that weren’t white, like Chinese, Japanese, Filipinos and Pacific Islanders, were no longer wanted, and most were forced to return to their country of origin.’
Bella rolled her eyes. ‘How ironic. First your ancestors were brought here to help build the country and then, when they had contributed, they were sent back home. Hardly makes sense!’
‘It wasn’t just the government. Trade unions thought these other races would be willing to work for less and so would undercut white men’s wages.’
‘So what happened to your ancestor?’ Bella could feel the heat from the sun beating through the windows, so she turned up the air conditioning. She was intrigued by Roberta’s story and goosebumps rose on her skin.
‘There was a protest movement amongst the Pacific Islanders and the Queensland government, objecting to this repatriation,’ said Roberta. ‘In the end most Islanders were sent back, although not always to their original islands. But a few hundred were allowed to stay. Others went into hiding. It was very sad. Families were torn apart and those who stayed were too fearful to visit their homeland in case they wouldn’t be allowed back into Australia. My great-great-grandfather had been in Australia for twenty years by then and had married a Scottish woman who he’d met at the local church, and so he was able to stay. But he never went back to what’s now Vanuatu to reunite with his Island family.’
Bella and Roberta were both quiet a moment. A flock of birds wheeled overhead and flew off above the cane fields.
‘It was tough on my family for a long time because there was a lot of discrimination against the South Sea Islanders,’ Roberta continued. ‘When other migrants like the Italians came to north Queensland, they could get bank loans to purchase land, but it was much harder for my family to get financial help, and while the newcomers were quickly accepted, the Islanders were always viewed with prejudice.’
‘That is so unjust,’ exclaimed Bella indignantly.
Roberta shrugged. ‘My family learned to survive and over time managed pretty well, but it took more than a hundred years for the Queensland government to formally recognise the South Sea Islanders as a distinct ethnic and cultural group, and acknowledge their contribution to the state’s development.’
‘Better late than never, I suppose,’ said Bella sarcastically. ‘Have you ever thought of going back to the Islands and finding your family’s descendants?’
Roberta cocked her head. ‘I once thought about it, but I have my roots here. I love this country. And that’s why I like to share it with other people.’
‘I’m looking forward to that,’ said Bella quietly.
About twenty minutes after they left Mossman, Roberta turned the Jeep down a grassy track, following it until it petered out and then parked beside several other vehicles. The two women shouldered their bags and picked their way down a steep hillside.
It was a descent from heat and light into cool green gloom.
Bella craned her neck upwards to the sixty-metre canopy above her head, where the trees fought for sunlight. These trees hosted a myriad of plants, their trunks glowing emerald with lichen, mosses, ferns and orchids, while far above looped the tails of fat liana vines, strangler figs and epiphytes, all of which helped bind the tree canopy into a thick blanket. Occasionally, the canopy had been rent by a falling tree, so that scrubs and small saplings had sprouted, taking advantage of the spotlight of sun on this patch of earth.
The two walked softly over the carpet of leaf litter. This world was still, humid and seemingly silent. Suddenly, Roberta put her hand to her ear and tilted her head. Bella listened. Then she heard the whispering, rustling, scratching noises of the hidden wildlife of the rainforest.
‘When we head down to the river you’ll see lots of birds,’ said Roberta. ‘We’re hiking to a section of traditional Aboriginal land which is now mainly used for research purposes and occasionally for ceremonies. There’s no camping in the park proper, so we’re going to camp just on its edge.’
After a fifteen-minute walk they came to some open country where the trees and foliage were sparse and where, in a sunlit clearing, a long table and old chairs were set up under a galvanised iron shelter. There was also an enclosed gas barbecue, and nearby was a well-used campfire made from a ring of stones. The table was covered in tins and plastic food containers, and several large eskies were stacked nearby. Half a dozen tents were set up and a billy was sitting beside a large metal teapot. A group of five people were standing around, drinking tea from enamel mugs.
‘Cuppa char?’ called out a plump, cheerful Englishman as Bella and Roberta walked into camp.
Two tanned women in their forties introduced themselves as Annabelle and Deidre. ‘We’re just heading out. We’re photographing wildlife, mainly birds, in the Daintree. We do it every year,’ they explained.
Roberta gestured to two men; one short with red hair, the other bald with glasses. ‘Graham and Phil are geologists visiting from the UK.’ Bella shook their hands. ‘And this is Antony, who’s brushing up his bush skills and local knowledge,’ continued Roberta as a man in his early thirties with bleached blond hair wandered up from the creek. He grinned and extended his hand towards Bella. ‘Ant works at the Lodge.’
‘Oh, is that the eco-resort I’ve been told about? The flash place?’ asked Bella as she shook hands.
Antony gave her an appraising look and a broad smile. ‘Certainly is. You should spend a day or so there after roughing it do
wn here. It’s lovely, very luxurious. I’ll make sure you are looked after.’
‘I’m happy here, I think,’ said Bella, glancing around at the dappled sunlight. ‘A sylvan glade, no less.’
‘Ah yes, we all disrobe and dance naked in the moonlight. You’ll love it,’ he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Bella smiled. Antony seemed to be rather a fun person. When he smiled, Bella noticed that two charming dimples appeared on his cheeks, making him look very cute.
‘Cup of tea and a sandwich and we’ll head out towards the upper valley, shall we?’ said Roberta. ‘It’s a fair walk but interesting, and we end up at the base of a stream coming down from the falls. Very refreshing and quite crocodile-proof, so bring your swimsuit. Tomorrow we’ll start in the lowland rainforest and climb towards another peak in the upland forest. Bit of a hike, but you look pretty fit, Bella.’
‘There’s a great view from the top of the peak,’ said Antony. ‘I’ll help you if you need it.’
It was late afternoon when they returned to the base camp. Bella and the three men had followed Roberta up along a crystal-clear stream as it bounced past them over glossy rocks, forming deep pools before gurgling downstream to join a branch of a larger creek. Bella felt as though she’d entered another world; the forest was simply breathtaking.
A couple of hours earlier, they’d reached the rock pool Roberta had promised them. Bella had braced herself as she slipped into it, feeling the crisply cold water on her hot body.
‘This is so good,’ she’d said. ‘Shame we’ll get all hot and bothered again on the walk back.’
‘At least it’s downhill,’ said Antony with a laugh.
The next morning, the two bird photographers headed out straight after breakfast, leaving just Bella and the three men with Roberta. As promised, she took them into the lowland forest and then up to one of the peaks. Peering out to the sparkling sea and reef, Bella acknowledged that Antony had been right. The view from the top was spectacular. Bella had never felt so energised, but after so long in a desk-bound job her muscles were starting to feel the workout, and by the end of the day they were very sore. The following morning, when Roberta told her where she planned to go hiking with the geologists, Bella begged off.