Mutiny on the Bounty

by Peter Fitzsimons

  Wonderful!

  Bligh, in turn, does not merely send the Cutter, he sends it under the command of his best man, Christian.

  Only a short time later, thus, Christian is walking through the luxurious greenery of the island, past the turquoise lagoons, by the soaring palm trees – heading towards the dwelling of Tinah – when his eyes happen upon a Tahitian Princess of such striking beauty, such natural poise and elegance, such warmth of expression that he is quite dumbstruck, and stares at her, mesmerised, as if in a trance, before he is able to snap out of it and introduce himself.

  ‘I am Fletcher Christian, Acting Lieutenant of the Bounty.’

  And I am ‘Mauatua’, the daughter of one of Tahiti’s Chiefs, of the second land of Matavai. And I have been waiting, dreaming of the return of beings in dashing blue coats, just like you.

  The softness of her voice! The power of her gaze!

  On the spot, Christian decides he has never seen anything so beautiful in his life. She is a statuesque beauty who stands so straight and tall that while Christian himself decides to call her Isabella, named after his only unrequited love, the English rose Isabella Curwen – as he cannot quite master ‘Mauatua’ – the rest of the Bounty’s crew soon christen the gorgeous 18-year-old ‘Mainmast’. (She, in turn, calls Christian ‘Titriano’, which is how all the Tahitians put their tongue around his name.)

  Either way, Christian is completely smitten and, happily, she returns his fervour in kind, the two of them the epitome of falling in love at first sight. Most of the officers and men of the Bounty will be with an endless array of different women during their time here, but after meeting Isabella, Christian has no more eyes for another woman than the Blind Fiddler does. There is only one woman for him hereafter, and – he is certain – even in the hereafter.

  Isabella! Helping to consolidate their relationship is that Isabella’s father, a local Chief, will soon become Fletcher’s tyo.

  In the here and now, however, Christian finally locates King Tinah, and rows the King to the Bounty and Bligh, in the company of some of those in the King’s court. From the first, it is clear how thrilled Tinah is to see his old friend, engulfing him in his warm embrace, rubbing noses and even desiring that they … exchange names. Though somewhat confused as to exactly what this name exchange means, Bligh agrees.

  ‘He taking the Name of Bligh, which they could pronounce no way but “Bry,” and I that of Tinah.’34

  After all, what else could he do? No longer a King, perhaps, but still very imposing.

  Tinah is a very large man, much above the common stature, being not less than six feet four inches in height and proportionally stout: his age about thirty-five. His wife (Iddeah) I judged to be about twenty-four years of age: she is likewise much above the common size of the women at Tahiti and has a very animated and intelligent countenance.35

  Iddeah is accompanied by a court of her own.

  Among them is ‘a woman dressed with a large quantity of cloth in the form of a hoop’.36 Before Bligh’s very eyes, this woman removes her garments and presents them to him as a gift, together with a large hog and some, yes, bread-fruit.

  Sending his servants, Smith and Samuel, scurrying below, Bligh is quickly able to produce his own presents that he has brought all the way from England. For the delighted Tinah he produces ‘hatchets, small adzes, files, gimblets, saws, looking-glasses, red feathers, and two shirts’.37

  And for you, Iddeah, Captain Bligh has a selection of ‘earrings, necklaces, and beads …’

  Which is all fine. In fact, however, Queen Iddeah makes it clear that what she actually wants is … iron. Indeed. Bligh is quick to give her exactly what he has given her husband.

  ‘Much conversation took place among them on the value of the different articles and they appeared extremely satisfied, so that they determined to spend the day with me and requested I would show them all over the ship, and particularly the cabin where I slept.’38

  Though it goes against the grain, Bligh knows that he really has no choice, and indeed takes them into his cabin, where they evince such a great interest in so many of his personal possessions that, as he would recount, ‘they got from me nearly as much more as I had before given them’.39

  And the cannon, Captain Bligh? Could you fire them, too?

  Of course.

  Mr Peckover, please fire a cannon for the edification of our guests.

  Two minutes later, a massive boom rolls out across the bay, causing a great cry of consternation among the Natives, though their fear turns to wonder soon enough for, ‘as the shot fell into the sea at a great distance, all the natives expressed their surprise by loud shouts and acclamations’.40

  It is a show of power, which is exactly what King Tinah wants.

  The fact that Bligh has brought the Bounty to anchor in Matavai Bay is a great boon to Tinah’s prestige, and a warning to rival tribes.

  With everything going so well, Bligh invites Tinah and Iddeah and their entire retinue to stay for a meal, which they readily agree to, at which point Bligh watches, transfixed, as Tinah consumes his meal without touching a single morsel with his hands. For, born a King, since his first mouthful of food as a baby, he has been fed by an attendant, and the practice has never ceased! Even though Tinah is now a grown man, there is still an attendant – himself a big buck of a man – who holds a cup to Tinah’s lips, who cuts his food, shapes every perfect morsel and feeds him every mouthful. Again and again and again the spoon goes in, even long after Bligh thinks the King must be full.

  ‘I must do him the justice to say he kept his attendant constantly employed,’ Bligh notes, ‘there was indeed little reason to complain of want of appetite in any of my guests. As the women are not allowed to eat in presence of the men Iddeah dined with some of her companions about an hour afterwards in private, except that her husband Tinah favoured them with his company and seemed to have entirely forgotten that he had already dined.’41

  Most important for Bligh, however, is not the extraordinary amount of food that Tinah devours, but the even more amazing amount he has brought to the Bounty: banana, papaya, guava, bread, kava, goats, 200-pound hogs, all are paddled forth and handed over, in return for just a few nails, or even simple scraps of metal. Even more important are the yams, a kind of Tahitian sweet potato, that is not only delicious but will be able to last for months on the ship, and piles of them under canvas start to grow like pyramids across all decks.

  There is in fact such a flood of incoming food that Bligh appoints Peckover as the rough equivalent of a ship customs agent – with quill in hand he carefully notes down exactly what is on board, what is coming on board, who owns what and what might be needed still for the ship to reach the same state of being fully provisioned as it was when it left Portsmouth.

  For his part Tinah brings not only food for Bry, but an old friend who is that rarest of things in these parts, an old hand used to British ships. His name is Hetee-Hetee, and he is quick to point out to Bry that he has been around so long, he sailed with Toote before Bry did – on Captain Cook’s second Pacific voyage, travelling with him to Easter Island, New Zealand and Tonga. Toote had liked him so much, he had allowed him to fire the ship’s cannon on the King’s birthday, and even taught him how to use a musket!

  Toote, yes, was a great man, and Hetee-Hetee grieves for him still – an expressed grief, mixed, admittedly, with an endless round of stories, gossip and opinions. There is something so compelling about him. He clearly works all the angles, and had returned from the voyage to Tonga with so many red feathers that Tinah had given him land as a reward. Just what Hetee-Hetee might gain from the latest British ship to arrive on these shores is not yet clear, but for the moment Bligh is happy enough to hear his stories, and laugh at his mischievous memories.

  •

  Now, while King Tinah and Queen Iddeah are sated at least in terms of what they have eaten, and the gifts they have received, not to mention the one-gun salute in their honour …

>   Still, however, there is one thing they were wondering that Bligh might help them with?

  Yes?

  A painting of us, perchance, just like the one done of Captain Cook that we and our people have enjoyed so much.

  Ah, yes, of course.

  Unfortunately, Bligh explains gently, the esteemed artist of the Royal Academy, John Webber, is not with them on this trip and there is no one else with them remotely capable of rendering such a fine likeness.

  ‘Our friends here expressed much disappointment …’42

  It is a bit of a hiccup, true, but it almost seems as if the royal cure for hiccups is eating impossible amounts of food, as the Tahitian King gets busy.

  ‘Tinah continued with me the whole afternoon, in the course of which he ate four times of roast pork besides his dinner.’43

  The bond between Bligh and Tinah is matched many times over between the Bounty’s crew and the rest of the Natives, particularly the females.

  ‘An intimacy between the natives and our people,’ Bligh chronicles, ‘was already so general that there was scarce a man in the ship who had not his tyo or friend.’44

  Indeed. For this, too, is an important plank in the local culture. While the visiting sailor may form a bond with one or many Tahitian females, as he desires, there is an equal expectation that he will also form a deep relationship with one male, an instant blood brother, a Tahitian male peer who is tyo. Officers of rank, like Christian, have great Chiefs pushing to be their tyo, but everyone else, right down to the most humble of common sailors, also soon finds themselves embraced by a Tahitian of wealth or rank. Midshipman Thomas Hayward even has a royal tyo – the younger brother of King Tinah himself – while the roughest man on the Bounty, Charley Churchill, a mere Master-at-Arms, also finds a tyo of exalted rank, the Chief of an entire district of Tahiti!

  Oh, the glory of it. Only days ago, they were mere British sailors. But now, now they are tyo, honorary Chiefs, taken right to the bosom (not to mention bosoms) of the Tahitian people.

  Tinah has one more request, one more favour to ask, before departing in the late afternoon.

  ‘He requested I would keep for him all the presents I had given to him as he had not at Matavai a place sufficiently safe to secure them from being stolen; I therefore showed him a locker in my cabin for his use and gave him a key to it.’45

  Still, even after an entire day and evening on board with Tinah, Bligh has not yet found the right moment to bring up the delicate matter of the bread-fruit, and whether they may set about loading their pots with a thousand saplings. All he has been able to do, as a preliminary, is to send Nelson out with his assistant, Brown, to look around the island and determine just how plentiful, and accessible, the bread-fruit plants are, and …

  And here they are now, already back, being rowed to the side of the ship by several sailors. And they are smiling, which bodes well.

  ‘It was no small pleasure to me,’ Bligh will recount, ‘to find by their report that according to appearances the object of my mission would probably be accomplished with ease.’46

  In fact, Nelson reports, the bread-fruit is there in enormous quantities, just for the taking, or perhaps … buying. Still, the question remains. How to get a thousand saplings on board, without Tinah realising that they are so priceless to Bligh he will in fact pay the Tahitians almost anything to have them?

  On the morning of Wednesday 29 October 1788, Bligh knows he must pay a return visit to King Tinah on land, ‘for I found that he expected it’.47 Bligh makes his way on shore with a bag of gifts especially for the Tahitian children who flock to greet him. For you, little one, some bright beads; and for your friends some toy necklaces that in London had been bought for a penny a dozen, but here are priceless.

  It is a sweet sight, a precious parade, as parent after parent lifts their tiny babes up to Bligh so the great man can present his gifts to them. It all goes so well, and Bligh – who, unlike him, even seems to be genuinely enjoying himself – seems to have such a bottomless bag of presents, that the Tahitians soon have a mischievous idea. In short order, amid high hilarity, bigger and bigger children are soon carried to the naval Captain until it ends up with bulky 12-year-olds being carried by their tottering and weak-kneed parents to accept yet more gifts.

  Bligh, a family man himself, has a good feel for the antics of these families too, and heartily joins in the laughter and leg-pulling, solemnly presenting each ‘little one’ with a gift. The whole spectacle ‘created much laughter; so that in a short time I got rid of all I had brought on shore’.48

  Shortly afterwards, Bligh, with Christian, walks to the house of Prince Oreepyah, where he is told Tinah awaits, and, sure enough, there he is, with a large crowd around him who part like the sea before Moses, allowing a passage to be made for Bligh, so he can sit by the great man. And now, a fascinating ceremony takes place. Even as one piece of native tapa cloth made from pounded bark – measuring two yards wide by 41 yards long – is spread on the ground, ‘another piece of cloth was brought by Oreepyah, which he put over my shoulders and round my waist in the manner the chiefs are clothed. Two large hogs, weighing each above two hundred pounds, and a quantity of baked bread-fruit and coconuts were then laid before me as a present, and I was desired to walk from one end of the cloth spread on the ground to the other.’49

  As Bligh walks the Tahitians yell as one:

  ‘Tyo! Ehoah! Tyo! Ehoah! Tyo! Ehoah!’50

  Both words, Bligh knows, mean ‘friend’, and he is sincerely touched as the ‘loud acclamation’51 echoes about him. Witnessing his old friend so moved by the kindness and acceptance of this ancient people, Fletcher Christian, too, is moved.

  Tinah now issues a stream of voluble instructions, which Bligh cannot remotely follow, but, on the instant, dozens of the Natives pick up all the food and start to carry it to where the Cutter has been beached on the shore and begin putting it all in. There is, in fact, so much that the Cutter is ‘completely loaded’,52 to the point that there is no room for Bligh himself. No matter, the important thing is that the supplies get safely to the ship, and Bligh is content to wait on the shore, surrounded by the adoring Natives, and talking to King Tinah, until the boat returns to pick him up.

  November 1788, Matavai Bay, Aphrodite’s Isle

  Music, across the water. Gleams of light, slowly bobbing up and down on the swell in the distance.

  The sun has fallen, the lanterns on the deck of the Bounty are lit. The Blind Fiddler plays, and the well-fed and well-liquored crew dance passionately with bare-breasted Tahitian women, whose hips shake in mesmerising fashion, whose flat bellies are now glistening with the sweat running down from their ample cleavages.

  Dance! Dance! Dance!

  Young Midshipman George Stewart learns the moves of the Heiva with remarkable ease, moving in time with the best of them, while below decks other sailors are becoming expert at different Tahitian rhythms and exertions. Up on the bridge, far enough removed from the bacchanalian scene to remain dignified, Bligh is slowly speaking to one of the slightly older women, who he remembers from the visit 11 years earlier, on a troubling subject – VD, and is it still among the population, as it had been in 1777, after the visit of the men of Resolution?

  I was instantly answered in the affirmative, and such a string of descriptive circumstances of the havoc it had made came out, as shocked me to the greatest degree. Many fine Girls she said had died of it … 53

  And of course the men, and the officers, have been warned of the dangers they are now running, not that it has made any difference at all. Bligh knows they have all the self-control of alcoholics trapped in a wine cellar. They are more than prepared to take the risk of a grisly death later if it means nights of ecstasy on the Bounty right now.

  The following morning, Thursday 30 October 1788, there is a new drama aboard the Bounty.

  There! No sooner has a Native been spotted stealing hooks than the cry goes up, and he darts off, quick to get below decks and mingle w
ith all the other Native men. Which one was he? To Fryer, who was the one who spotted him, they all look much the same – young men with dark brown skin, muscly limbs, fine torsos, grinning countenances and tousled black hair. He simply cannot be sure which one of them is the villain.

  Bligh consequently, orders all the Tahitian males – except for the attendants of the Chiefs – to immediately remove themselves from the Bounty. It is Mr Fryer who has the critical task of distinguishing real ‘attendants’ from the hoi polloi, but suddenly the nervous thief panics and is revealed, as Captain Bligh would relate in his Log:

  … a daring fellow attacked the Centinel … making several blows with his stick. As I had not put it in the power of the Centinel to fire without orders, I was called, when he [the thief] escaped narrowly with his life among the Crowd where I did not choose to fire lest an innocent person might suffer, and the offender after all got clear. Everyone was excessively alarmed at my determination, and I hope it will be the last provocation I may meet with among them.54

  For his part, Fryer is surprised at the Captain’s solicitude for the Tahitian people – a thief allowed to get away because of the Captain’s reluctance to permit firing?

  But Bligh is still putting into practice the things he has learnt from Captain Cook, including Cook’s biggest lesson of all: it can be dangerous to provoke the Natives. For Bligh, the most important thing of all is to maintain good will, so that he can complete his mission for the bread-fruit. And yet he is also astute enough to quickly realise that there may be another emotion, beyond good will, that, carefully exploited, may help his cause: jealousy.

  When two other Tahitian ‘chiefs of great consequence, Marremarre and his son Poohaitaiah Otee … of the districts of Itteeah and Attahooroo’55 arrive, Bligh greets them with great ceremony, and offers them a dinner every bit as sumptuous as the one he had offered Tinah – who observes closely.