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‘Relief from the daily round’

Emily Hope on the first cruise to Papua in 1933

The Australian National Maritime Museum was recently offered a rare group of objects: a personal collection that allows researchers to reconstruct an ocean voyage in full. Curator Post-war Immigration Dr Roland Leikauf reveals the rich tapestry of information that it contains about the beginning of the golden age of cruising and the impact these voyages had on the local population.

The legendary liners we still remember today offered myriad luxuries, for passengers who could afford them

BEFORE THE AGE of ubiquitous air travel, ocean liners dominated the seas. The liner companies tamed the oceans by establishing regular routes around the world. The legendary liners we still remember today offered myriad luxuries, for passengers who could afford them, but they also carried cargo and mail, commuting between ports.

Cruising, by contrast – where all stopovers are meant to be events, not just travel destinations – had been reserved for a specialist clientele. The opposite of liner travel, it was often ignored by the classic ocean liner companies. However, in the 1930s, in the aftermath of the Great Depression, many such companies had to explore new revenue streams.

In the 1930s, the P&O company threw their crown jewels into the fray: the ‘White Sisters’, Strathaird and Strathnaver. Their first cautious experiments would barely be called cruises today, such as when Strathaird visited Norfolk Island for a short five-day excursion. Soon, however, P&O was ready to offer something that was akin to a modern cruise: a visit to what is today Papua New Guinea. In 1933, the Territory of Papua was under authority of the Commonwealth of Australia, and comprised the south-eastern part of the island.

Emily Hope (née Smith) joined this voyage, meticulously keeping all the paraphernalia of her travels and developing a permanent record of her travels.

In 1933, she paid 13 guineas (13 pounds 13 shillings; equivalent to more than $1,500 today) and boarded SS Strathaird in Sydney on 25 August. She braved this maiden voyage alone, armed only with the address of a Mr Pratt, an ex-soldier living in Papua whom she had never met – a friend of a friend who had been gassed during the Great War and retired to Papua because of the climate.

Brisbane was the first stop on her voyage, and the Queensland city was, to her, almost as alien and beautiful as her final destination. The voyage offered a plethora of distractions and social events. Quoits, the ubiquitous deck game played by throwing a rope ring, was one way to keep the voyagers entertained. The ship also organised the traditional shipboard ‘horse racing’, in which toy horses connected to wires were pulled towards the finish lines by passengers furiously spinning cranks. Everyone role-played the experience, by both dressing up for the occasion and behaving as though participating in a real race. The officially printed race guide advised the participants to be on the lookout for ‘philanthropists’ at the bar, as it would be shame to have to pay for one’s own drinks! It also assured the crowd that biting the coins paid out by the ship’s booking office was not necessary, because these were ‘perfectly good shekels’. The rest of the evenings were spent on social functions, long bridge tournaments, extensive dancing and the inevitable fancy dress ball. To stay healthy and in shape, physical activities abounded, including the nowforgotten ‘gymkhana’, a mixed series of sporting and competitive activities presented as one event. The voyagers left their island of leisure on board Strathaird only for shore excursions and expeditions. The first opportunity presented itself in Brisbane, where expeditions by car, rail, steamer or a combination of all three could be booked, some lasting for a full day. Emily chose to travel far and wide, venturing even into the Blackall Range. After two days, the vessel continued to their primary destination: the Australian-administered capital of Papua, Port Moresby, and its environs.

Emily would have had many reasons to be wary of this destination. She and the other passengers had been warned in writing – by the secretary of the Governor of Papua, no less – that the locals often showed ‘mendicancy’ and tended to beg or demand payment for photographs. The population, suggests the letter, had turned into ‘professional beggars’, expecting payment from those visiting their home.

Collections

Evenings were spent on social functions, long bridge tournaments, extensive dancing and the inevitable fancy dress ball

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The ‘Electric Ship Strathaird ’ is the star of this postcard from circa 1937. It is depicted as either transiting the Suez Canal or passing by Aden, surrounded by smaller vessels. ANMM Collection ANMS0410[164] Gift from the Estate of John Watt

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Experiences on and off the ship: organised shore excursions were a part of cruising from day one. The range of choices for the travellers was impressive and included day trips to the mountains by train and bus as well as sightseeing by steamer and extended picnics.

ANMM Collection

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The Queensland North Coast brochure was a glossy, high-quality advertisement, presenting this region as a desirable tourism location for cruise passengers.

ANMM Collection

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Cruising – where all stopovers are meant to be events, not just travel destinations – had been reserved for a specialist clientele

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Despite these warnings, Emily did not avoid contact with the locals. She gladly paid them for their services (after haggling, of course) and hitched a ride on a truck through the countryside, only armed with a passing knowledge of the local language, Tok Pisin (which she calls ‘pidgeon talk’ in her letters). Even though she felt squeamish in some situations, she successfully found the house of Mr Pratt, where she spent most of her time with either her host or the local children.

Emily Hope’s letters, photographs and other materials provide some rare insight into the interactions between the first cruise ship travellers and the locals. Her memories present her as someone who is unbiased, but nevertheless unable to understand the negative impact the arriving tourists have already had on the population. The passing ocean liners have already established systems that the cruise passengers find when they embark. The ‘natives’ are described in a negative light, yet an ‘Inspection of Native Village’ and ‘Native Dance at Konedobu’ are an integral part of their excursions. Emily does not reflect on the power imbalances created by these visits. She writes that ‘in the towns occupied by white people the natives are partly educated, (pidgeon) and taught cleanliness. They do all the housework whilst watched, otherwise they fall asleep any old time’. She sees the locals as interesting with a tendency to being lazy, and completely dependent for their survival on the white population. That they should work as servants when living in the city is accepted as a given. The only other possible role is for them to stay in their villages and act for the ‘enjoyment of the visitors’ by organising spectacles like ‘native canoe races’. Their society has been affected and transformed by the people constantly arriving from across the sea, and the cruise liner business will only accelerate this transformation.

Emily leaves the island richer in experiences, and with a haul of locally acquired items: shells and figurines, ‘poisonous tipped spears’ and ‘genuine hunting spears that have been used’, as well as combs with coloured feathers, a stool carved from a block of wood, coral, an ebony walking stick, and much more. She also left with impressions of a country of ‘brilliant colouring’ and ‘tropical heat’. In time, the country with its ‘primitive jungle and tracks’ and ‘bright flowers with wonderful perfume’ would draw many more early cruise passengers to it, until air travel finally sealed the fate of the grand ships like Strathaird