In 1882 I took passage from the Island of Nukufetau in the Ellice Group for the Caroline Islands.  The vessel was a fine brigantine of 160 tons, and was named the Orwell.  She was, unfortunately, commanded by an incompetent, obstinate, self-willed man, who, though a good seaman, had no meteorological knowledge and succeeded in losing the ship, when lying at anchor, on Peru Island, in the Gilbert Group, ten days after leaving Nukufetau, simply through disregarding the local trader’s advice to put to sea.  Disastrous as was the incident to me, for I lost trade goods and personal effects to the value of over a thousand pounds, and came ashore with what I stood in—­to wit, a pyjama suit—­and a bag of Chili dollars, I had reason to afterwards congratulate myself from a fisherman’s point of view.

Living on the island was a Swiss, Frank Voliero, whom I have before mentioned.  He was an ardent deep-sea fisherman, and was on that account highly respected by the natives, who otherwise did not care for him, as he was of an exceedingly quarrelsome disposition.  He was an expert palu man, and he and I therefore quickly made Island bruderschaft.  During the three months I remained on Peru we had many fishing trips, and caught not less than fifty palu.  The largest of these was evidently a patriarch, for although he was in rather poor condition he weighed 136 lbs. and was 6 feet 10 inches in length.  Another, hooked at a depth of eighty-five fathoms, was only 5 feet 2 inches, and weighed 129 lbs.  Its stomach contained a small octopus with curiously stunted tentacles, almost as thick at the tips as they were at the base, but in all other respects similar to those found in shallow water upon the reefs and in the lagoon.

Both Voliero and myself tried many kinds of bait for palu, believing that the native theory that the fish would only take flying-fish was wrong.  We found that on Peru, any elongated fish, such as gars, silvery mullet, or young bonito, were acceptable, and that the tentacle of an octopus, after the outer skin was removed, answered just as well.  Yet further southward among the Pacific Isles, flying-fish is the only bait they will take!  Evidently, therefore, the palu, at the great depths in which it lives, is attracted by a brightly-hued fish whose habitat is on the surface of the ocean.  Why this is so must be decided by ichthyologists, for there are no bright, silvery-scaled fish inhabiting the ocean at such depths as eighty or a hundred fathoms.  And why is it that the palu, quiescent by day, and feeding only at night, so eagerly seizes a hook baited with a flying-fish—­a fish which never descends more than a few fathoms below the surface, and which the palu can never possibly see except when it is lowered by human hands to, or sinks to the bottom?

Of the marvellous efficacy of the palu-oil in a case of acute rheumatism I can speak with knowledge.  The second mate of an island-trading schooner of which I was the supercargo, was landed at Arorai, in the Line Islands, unable to move, and suffering great agony.  After two days’ massaging with palu-oil he recovered and returned to his duties.