Spring tide time

TI in 2B:  Pearl luggers in for the spring tide, c. 1930s to 1940s.  

One of these luggers might be the Cessa (registration number A22), the Mills' family vessel of the thirties and forties.  Or one might be the Waikato, a Bowden Pearl Company lugger skippered by my late father-in-law, Henry Titasey in the forties and early fifties.  Henry came to the Torres Strait to work first as a pearl diver until he worked his way to skipper.  He was then quarantined in 1952 for several years at Waiben when he contracted TB.

     In her memoir, Ina’s Story, my mother-in-law, Ina Titasey (nee Mills) told how she courted Henry, during spring tide time.  How else could lovers in the Torres Strait meet when life was navigated around the tides?

     Spring tide is full or new moon when the current is extra fast and so stirs up the sediment on the sea floor.  This means poor visibility and often the sheer speed made it impossible for divers to reach the bottom to collect shell.

     So, in spring tide time when it was not possible to dive, the luggers came to TI to unload shell at the shell store and load up with supplies.  It was also time for some R and R for the crew.

     It is clear from the waves in the above sketch, the sager, the south-easterly tradewind, is blowing.  Of course, pearling was suspended during the wet season when the kooki or north-west wind blew, often unpredictably.

     I asked Mum (Ina), former Mills Sister, if she and the girls sang songs about luggers.

     She shook her head and was silent for a long time.

     “No,” she said, slowly, “not about luggers.  No.”  I knew from her expression there was a gem coming.  “But Uncle Wrench wrote this one song on Naghir. It’s a Naghir song.  There aren’t many Naghir songs.”

     Uncle Wrench is Mum’s brother, younger by two years and living in Cairns.  Naghir is the Mills family's island.

A lugger passes Naghir Island c. early 1930s. St Pauls is in the background.

     “Which way the song?” I asked.

     She started humming, gazing into nothing.  The words came to her slowly and I wrote like hell, humming with her.  It had a catchy melody.

     The song is about the family pearl lugger, Cessa, a big A22 painted on her sides.  Uncle Wrench sings as if he is the A22, slicing through the ocean, homeward bound, which is what the luggers did at spring tide.

(Excuse my poor spelling on the translations.  I did my best with Mum’s help.)

In angau nakee A22 nai Sara urik Malu dadiar-ai-ay Sager a boey bal Aril malu ad-tha mika gar-ay paganu-ay Malu ah nakee U-su poidthanu, sik thanurema-ay Nga kedth mai-a matha padal nith-thunu Malu da diya ay lagakagar-ay

Look at me, only me here go Me, A22 Seagull flying In the middle of the ocean The sager is blowing When the sea breaks it is like rain The waves make the sea filled with foam, Foam behind The boat runs With me sailing in the middle of the ocean, heading home.

     Sadly, the pearling industry collapsed with the introduction of plastic buttons in the early fifties.  Many Torres Strait Islanders, including the Mills family, turned to diving for kabar, trochus shell. 

     Uncle Wrench then worked in the fifties as a kabar diver on the Songton, a lugger operated by Johnny Witts company and skippered by Uncle Alfie, Mum and Uncle Wrench’s oldest brother who passed away in early 2005. Also on the Songton was the youngest Mills boy, Benny who died tragically on 25 July, 1956 while diving for kabar.      

     The following is the opening paragraph of Uncle Wrench’s chapter, No luxuries on this boat, in Ina’s Story.

“This here day, 25 July, 1956, we dive for kabar in reef, four or five hours from Bowen. I nearly 27 year old. Each day e same, but get up time different, depending on the tide. This day we sleep in till dawn and eat breakfast, damper and syrup and black tea with sugar. No luxuries on this boat, the Songton, a lugger. But we gad engine. Gardiner diesel engine. Good one that engine. Them other engine lotta trouble. Songton boat blong Johnny Witts. Em got other lugger, Briton, Triton and Winston. Before we been dive pearlshell, but plastic buttons take over so now dive for kabar.”

Uncle Wrench (left) on the Songton.

Torres Strait Islanders continue to derive their income from the sea, although the industries have changed to accommodate new demands.  What hasn’t changed is the tide; fishermen lay up on the spring tide and work on the slow neap tide of the first and third quarter moons.  And members of the Mills family continue the seafaring tradition, not in luggers, but big-engined crayfishing vessels or, in the case of my darling, a six metre fibreglass vessel with a 90 hp outboard, the Madam Dugong, working his dream job; a fishing guide.

Tony with a couple of happy clients (and a sad mackerel)