The Talune

“…I have also been troubled by some unfinished business. There are events in our past which have been little known in New Zealand, although they are well known in Samoa.
Those events relate to the inept and incompetent early administration of Samoa by New Zealand.
…In particular we acknowledge with regret the decision taken by the New Zealand authorities in 1918 to allow the ship Talune, carrying passengers with influenza, to dock in Apia... It is judged to be one of the worst epidemics recorded in the world, and was preventable.”
Rt Hon Helen Clark, Prime Minister 3 June 2002.

“Those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”
George Satayan (except he probably said it in español)


When Helen Clark apologised to the Samoan people in 2002, regarding the influenza epidemic delivered to Samoa on the Talune, she was acknowledging a period of governance in which NZ administrators of Samoa showed deplorable judgement.

It would lead to the rise of the movement known as the “Mau”. But that is another story...this story is about the incident of the Talune- which would establish sentiments later embodied in that movement.

In 1918 , roughly 15 million people lost their lives to “Spanish” influenza as the strain spread across the globe in the wake of World War 1. In a world where global travel wasn't what it is today, it's evident that some deaths were preventable.

In September the USSC Niagara left Canada carrying NZ Prime Minister William Massey and the Minister of Finance...and (by the time it reached NZ) over 100 cases of influenza, and 2 dead. Although the ship had been quarantined in Fiji, Minister of Health (George Russell) allowed the ship to be cleared just 2 hours after docking in Auckland.

The Talune arrived in Auckland 9 days after Niagara. Talune then sailed on to Lyttleton, prior to the return voyage to Apia via Suva.

On board Talune were Mrs George Churchwood* (Ellen Ah Sue) and her children and a serving girl, Ta'u. *Ellen and George were parents to George Churchwood, who married Alma Stowers, my great aunt.

The ship was quarantined in Fiji on return, but landed passengers- introducing the influenza to Fiji. The ship's captain signed a document indicating there was no sickness on board - although several cases were apparent.

Passengers collected in Fiji had been charged double the usual fare (some ₤3) to allow for extra provisions, as it was likely that the ship for would be delayed in quarantine in Samoa.

By the time it made Apia- 3 days later on November 7, there were more cases on board. The Captain, one John Mawson, deliberately avoided quarantine in Samoa- claiming passengers were “seasick” and indicating everything had gone smoothly in Fiji. Passengers however, were surprised to be allowed ashore in Apia, despite obvious illnesses aboard.

Talune left Apia within 24 hours of arriving.

The next stop was Tonga. By the time Talune returned to Suva- there had been 15 deaths aboard.

The medical advisor in Apia, meanwhile had encouraged ill looking passengers upon disembarking, to hurry home.

Ta'u, the Churchwood's serving girl was to become the first of approximately 8500 Samoans to perish with influenza.

Before the epidemic was over, whole families would die in their homes. Entire villages were incapacitated, and corpses remained unburied, with no-one healthy enough to dig the graves. Ultimately, many bodies were either thrown into mass graves or left in their fale’s and their homes burnt.

Status was no defence- when one chief died in Apia,17 men came to collect his body... none returned to their village.

Logan- the NZ Administrator in charge of Samoa- would accomplish little in this time, but did manage to;
- threaten to burn down a boarding school if the sick girls inside would not come to dig graves
- blame Samoans themselves for the high death rate
- refuse an offer of help from the American's at Pago Pago (an inquiry into the event was told that he had then removed and destroyed the received telegram...)
- order wireless communications with the Americans to be cut-off.

New Zealand, pre-occupied with it's own influenza spread, never sent help. The first medical assistance to Samoa was provided by an Australian team.

In NZ, “Spanish” flu killed over 5500 people (less than 1% of the population).
Tonga would lose 10% of it's population as a result of Talune's visitation.
American Samoa by contrast didn't suffer from the pandemic, due to quarantine procedures being followed.

An estimated 8500 Samoans died (official records indicated 7542- but not all deaths were recorded, due to the scope of the epidemic).

22% of the population, 1 in 5 Samoans were killed.

“The introduction of influenza and the burying of the dead in a common grave has entirely changed their feelings, but this, I hope is only temporary and like children, they will get over it”
Col. Robert Logan- NZ administrator to Samoa.

All the single ladies

“I got gloss on my lips, a man on my hips
Got me tighter in my Dereon jeans
Acting up, drink in my cup
I can care less what you think”
Beyonce Knowles- "All the single ladies"

Fa’afafine in Samoa, according to sources number between 3000-5000 (of a total population of 190,000) …or 1:20 males.

In the words of someone who spent far to much time looking into the phenomenon, fa’afafine have formed an integral part of the Samoan population since pre Christian influence…”Boys who display marked effeminate behaviour in childhood are recognized to be Fa’afafines and are fully accepted within their families and society.”

But facts have no place here. From my observation, fa’afafine numbers appear to be on the increase. It looks more men are borrowing their sisters blouses and air kissing one another “Talofa”. (This is in addition to far too much floral print, and the cultural practice of everybody wearing dresses, regardless of masculinity.)

Not always easy to spot at a distance- fa’afafine range widely in appearance; from the aggressively feminine, clad in black vinyl several sizes too small, hairspray devouring “Tina Turner”- to the private school educated, caustically intelligent public servants (the “Eddie Izzard”)- to downright dangerously unpredictable street dwellers (somewhere between Jared Leto and Brittney Spears).

There are common features- and I think these indicate a reason for the rise in numbers.
More burley, brown effeminate blokes are looking for an excuse to express themselves… and to openly not just like- but to be able to play loudly, even dance to…Beyonce.

In some sort of bizarre reverse effect of her unbridled black and proud, hip jutting, seam tearing sexuality …I think Beyonce is making more Samoan men act like women.

Or it could be something else. But the weather, for instance, wouldn’t explain why I suddenly have a very soft spot for Taylor Swift…(although I refuse to worry unless her back catalogue starts to appeal).

A recent colonial history of Samoa (abridged version)

Bacon: “What’s that?”

Samoan Joes bartender: “It’s a cocktail. You asked for a cocktail.”

Bacon: “No- I asked you to give me a refreshing drink. I wasn’t expecting a rainforest. You could fall in love with an orangutan in that!”

bartender: “You want a pint, go to the pub.”

Bacon: “I thought this was a pub?”

bartender: “It’s a Samoan pub.”

- from Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels.



An Englishman, an American and a German walk into a Samoan Pub.

There are at least three Samoans behind the bar and another couple near the door- someone is snoring softly, but it’s difficult to tell who as no-one moves. The service is almost non existent, but it soon becomes clear there’s no beer and the alternatives all smell of coconut…but at least the pool table has been unlocked and it’s free to play.

The German takes the initiative and gets behind the bar to start straightening things out. He starts with the beer, and before long, under the one open eye of the bar manager, the German’s ordering the bar staff around like he owns the joint, there’s cold beer running like water and pork rinds have been added to the snack menu.

The Englishman and the American mumble for a while over their fresh beers about how much better the bar could be if the beer were warm, the food were cold and windows were bricked up- or if it were filled with sports memorabilia, the smell of fat frying and waitresses with low cut tops. With a couple of pints under their belts and the smell of roasting pork in their nostrils, sensing an opportunity the Yank and the Pom approach one of the more frazzled looking Samoan bar tenders and start to talk about employment conditions.

The Samoan bar tender listens intently, before approaching the bar manager and starting to whinge about the change in pace since the German arrived, adding “…since when did anyone work on weekends anyway?” The bar manager, not used to 3 customers at once, let alone upset staff with opinions, decides it’s all getting a bit complicated and takes the rest of the day off. The German left in command, seizes the reins, ramps up the brewing out back and contemplates adding schnitzel to the menu.

The Yank then quietly convinces the remaining disgruntled barstaff to make the German an offer, one which gives the German free run of the public bar (and attraction of the free pool table)- if in return he’ll let them section off the back half of the bar to open a deep-fryer and cleavage themed family restaurant. The German readily agrees- glad to be rid of the trouble makers. While the bar-splitting agreement is being made, the Englishman takes a peek at his pocket watch, discovers it’s half past tea-time and ducks off to find a Twinings.

A couple of hours later the Englishman comes back looking slightly worse for wear and accompanied by a large Kiwi who seems intent on making up for showing up late, rapidly downing beers as though it’s 6 pm closing. As the Pom introduces the Kiwi to the German at the bar he mumbles “don’t mention the war” through the side of his moustache- at which the Kiwi smirks drunkenly and with wide eyed innocence asks the German about the war. The German immediately takes offence and tells them to get their own bloody beer- before hiding the key to the pool table, switching off the keg and nicking off to find somewhere that appreciates good beer, a little efficiency and dictatorial middle management.

The Englishman senses a shift in the mood now that the German’s gone. The bar-staff are looking frustrated after a long day and now contemplating how they’re going to manage the sauerkraut and schnitzel special at dinner service. Displaying the better part of valour, the Pom asks the Kiwi to keep an eye on the bar in exchange for a free beer and free pool- while he pops out for a bit.

The Kiwi agrees amiably, grabbing one of the last warming frothy pints from the bar and staggering toward the pool table. It’s a minute or two before he realises the pool table is now locked and the key is missing. No longer under German observation, the staff have just started to relax and enjoy themselves again, when the Kiwi starts asking about the pool table key and wondering loudly and belligerently about why the beer is no longer running freely from the taps. The bar staff aren’t ruffled and couldn’t be bothered about the beer or finding the key- thinking that free pool is one of the attractions that started this mess anyway, and they’d no doubt be much less busy and generally happier without it. The Kiwi drunk, upset and completely failing to appreciate the average build of the so far docile Samoans- loses his rag and swings a pool cue at the nearest slumbering doorman. …at which point the Kiwi senses rather than hears a very low, very deep hum which resonates through the floor and the timber of the bar- something like the buzzing of a very, very large wasps nest…and shortly thereafter is assisted bodily but non-violently from the bar.

Thus leaving half of the original bar occupied by the now independent Samoan bar staff snoozing softly without the encumbrance of customers; and the other half under control of the Yank and the Samoan bar tender, happily doling out deep fried deserts for breakfast, lunch and dinner to a “growing” population.