WHEN still a boy, William Mariner left England in 1804 on the ship Port-au-Prince for a whaling expedition to the Pacific. After two years on the high seas, the ship anchored at Lifuka, one of the islands of Tonga, to rest and refit. By that time, the crew was as ragged as the sails.
Possibly because they had previous unpleasant contact with Europeans, the locals were quite hostile. Oh, not at first. Initially, they welcomed the visitors and assured them of a safe and memorable time, which lured them into a false sense of security.
One night, the Tongans flooded the anchorage with canoes and blocked the Port-au-Prince from escaping. Hundreds of warriors swarmed the ship and killed most of the crew, leaving only Mariner and three others as prisoners. Mariner was taken under the protection of the Tongan king, who adopted him and eventually made him a chief.
Mariner spent four years on Tonga, from 1806 to 1810, during which he married, mastered the language, and generally did well for himself, but it was not home. He longed for England, so when a passing ship offered the chance, Mariner swam to his freedom and made his way to the other side of the world.
A few years later, Mariner met Dr. John Martin, who took an interest in him, recorded his story and published it under the title “An Account of the Natives of the Tongan Islands” in 1827. Martin’s book not only recounts Mariner’s adventures, but it is a treasure trove of information about Tongan customs, beliefs, and day-to-day life a hundred years ago. Anthropologists still read it to understand old Tonga.
The following passage illustrates Mariner’s and Martin’s powers of storytelling:
“The following fatal morning, Monday, the 1st December, 1806, at eight o’clock, the natives began to assemble onboard and soon increased to three hundred in different parts of the ship. About nine o’clock, Tooi Tooi, the Sandwich Islander before mentioned, came onboard and invited Mr. Brown to go on shore and view the country, who immediately complied and went unarmed.
“About half an hour after he had left the ship, Mr. Mariner, who was in the steerage, went to the hatch for the sake of the light to mend a pen, when looking up he saw Mr. Dixon standing on a gun, endeavoring by his signs to prevent more of the natives from coming onboard. At this moment he heard a loud shout from the Indians and saw one of them knock Mr. Dixon down with his club. Too surely convinced what was now the matter, he ran toward the gun room, when an Indian caught hold of him by the hand, but escaping from his grasp, ran down the scuttle where he found the cooper.
“Considering the magazine the safest place, they ran immediately there; and having consulted what was best to be done, they came to the resolution of blowing up the vessel, and like Samson of old, to sacrifice themselves and their enemies together.”
If you found this passage as compelling as I did, locate a copy of John Martin’s “An Account of the Natives of the Tongan Islands.” There are still some around.
BC Cook, PhD lived on Saipan and has taught history for 20 years. He currently resides on the mainland U.S.
BC Cook
