As it turned out, the Fijians were gathered on the wharf to meet our ship, and they welcomed us with singing. I tried not to stare but I had never seen such dark skin swathed in such bright fabric, the contrast of colour. Some wore their hair loose and others in intricate braids, and there were some men with their hair shorn, dressed in similar clothes to those you would see on the streets of Sydney.

How good it felt to step onto solid land. There were palm trees in a little park beyond the wharf, and just to lean against the trunk of one and feel bark against my skin, the scratchiness of it, to feel something which was not man-made, was delicious. The cabin had become stifling with everyone’s bodies and breath, the damp and the salt air. Brynn had a little Brownie camera and we took turns photographing one another leaning against the palms, beneath a sky unsullied by clouds. We walked up Usher Street to the markets and spent some of our carefully folded US dollars on souvenirs for our new families in America. I bought a little wooden mask and some necklaces made of shells and beads. And then we saw the wide white arches of a hotel, the Metropole.

‘Surely it’s time for a drink,’ Brynn said.

Once our eyes adjusted to the dim lighting we saw a long, polished bar crowded with men, and then small tables served by waiters dressed in white uniforms. Ceiling fans spun lazily overhead. We sat at a table and ordered rum cocktails and leaned back against the cushions of the cane chairs. Some of the sailors from the Mariposa were at the table beside ours, and they tried to buy us drinks, but we refused.

‘We want to make it back on board the ship on time,’ Brynn said sweetly, so as not to hurt their feelings.

I hadn’t noticed Jim when we entered, but he must’ve seen us and made his way over.

‘These are married women,’ he said to the sailors, gesturing with his own fruit-garnished drink. ‘Watch yourselves.’

‘Thank you, but we are perfectly capable of looking after ourselves,’ I said to him. My tone must have come out sharper than I intended, as the sailors beside us snickered and Jim gave a neat little bow and retreated to the bar without another word.

Brynn pinched my thigh.

‘What?’

‘He’s the one who showed you the bridge, isn’t he?’

‘Yes, and?’

‘You ought to be nicer to him, the way he looks at you.’

‘He doesn’t look at me in any way.’

Brynn sighed and drained the last of her cocktail. The paper straws wilted as quickly as the ice melted. ‘Does too. Now let’s go. If I have another drink I’ll stay in Suva forever.’

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