Tears of the Moon (28 page)

‘Too big, too heavy, little man,’ admonished the diver. ‘When big fella you wear the helmet.’

Olivia chatted briefly with the crew and wished
them well. This was the first time a lugger was going out without either Ahmed or Tyndall on board to oversee operations. Yoshi had proved himself to be trustworthy and honest and while many divers secreted a pearl or two away from the owners to sell as a snide, Tyndall and the Hennessys had agreed to let Yoshi master a lugger this trip. Yoshi bowed respectfully to Olivia, who acknowledged the courtesy with a bob of her head and wished him well. Finally she and Hamish approached the
Shamrock
and called out to Tyndall, who appeared on the deck.

‘Ho!’ squealed Hamish as he saw him.

‘Ho yourself, Hamish.’ Tyndall sprang onto the wharf and picked him up.

The boy carefully touched the pearl at his ear. ‘Pretty.’

‘We’ll bring back lots more pretties I hope, eh Olivia?’

‘Ahmed says he feels lucky. Are you staying out on the grounds the whole time? Be difficult for Niah, won’t it?’

Niah was due to give birth in a few months. Tyndall had broken the news to them casually, but with great pride and genuine delight.

‘I’ll go south again and take supplies and water out to the fleet as needed.’

‘If you see my Aboriginal friends, tell them we are well.’

‘I will.’

They paused for a moment having run out of niceties and exchanged a glance.

Niah appeared on deck and waved to Hamish.

‘Good luck, Niah. Look after yourself,’ said Olivia. While Niah had not been invited into the Hennessys’ house as an equal, they had established a friendship of sorts. Niah had made herself useful at the foreshore camp while Olivia had taught her many things and in return Niah had helped her become fluent in Malay.

Olivia glanced at Niah who was wearing a long loose shift like those worn by the women of the South Seas. But there was no hiding the bulge of the child she carried with grace and ease.

‘I hope that baby doesn’t come early,’ said Olivia with genuine concern.

‘I be fine, mem.’

‘We’ll manage if it does,’ said Tyndall. ‘You did,’ he added softly, then regretted the remark in case it brought back past hurts. But since the birth of Hamish, Olivia had come to terms with the loss of her first son. It crossed her mind now that it would be nice to be sailing south on the
Shamrock
with Hamish. One day she’d take him to where his brother had been born and tell him the story.

As Olivia turned to leave, she added, ‘Conrad sends his best wishes. Good luck.’

Tyndall watched Olivia and her son walk back along the wharf with feelings he didn’t understand. When he turned back to Niah she gave him a soft smile. ‘I give you a son too, Tyndall. You see.’

‘Not till we’re back safe in Broome, I hope!’ he laughed.

A few weeks later, while at sea, Niah and Tyndall lay in the night coolness on the deck of the
Shamrock
. The moon was full and hung plump and mellow, shining across the water. But instead of the unbroken path of light, the annual phenomenon known as the ‘steps of the moon’ was taking place. This occurred when some unseen atmospheric disturbance broke the silvery gold light into a ladder of steps leading across the sea and wound up to the moon itself.

‘We go walkabout up there, said Niah, pointing to the moon.

‘You’d never get up there. Too fat,’ laughed Tyndall, rubbing her belly. She snuggled into him and he put his arm around her. Feeling the shell pendant between her breasts, he idly asked, ‘Tell me about this.’

‘It’s my people sign. Very old. First girl gets to wear.’

‘Not the men, huh? And what does it mean?’

‘My mother mother come from here. Marry to Macassar man. Leave Australia, go far away.’

Tyndall was stunned by her casual revelation of her grandmother’s Aboriginal ancestry. ‘Niah, do you know which Aboriginal tribe this came from?’ he asked, touching the shell pendant.

She shook her head and looked wistful and Tyndall realised she was missing her family, especially with the birth so close. ‘They must have been coastal people.’ He said no more and they lay there looking at the steps of the moon shimmering on the water. Tyndall felt very contented, this simple girl made him happy, and the arrival of the child would make
it complete. Such musings came as a surprise to him for he was disconcerted to realise that he too now wished for the security of companionship like Conrad and Olivia. Now it seemed to him having a child meant he would leave some footprint upon this place. Maybe it was one of the reasons why he’d lived so recklessly—he had no one but himself to think about. He leaned down and kissed her cheek and Niah smiled up at him.

Seeing his pearl earring catch the moonlight, she touched it. ‘What this one mean?’

‘I won it in a card game and I thought it so beautiful I decided to find lots more.’

‘This one tear of the moon,’ said Niah softly as she touched the pearl that perfectly matched the colour of the moon above. ‘My mother say these ones—pearls—when the goddess of the moon weeps, tears fall into sea and make pearls.’

‘That’s beautiful, Niah … tears of the moon. I like that.’

Niah stretched sleepily. ‘Baby and me go to sleep now.’

The
Shamrock
moored in the cove near where the ill-fated
Lady Charlotte
had been shipwrecked and where Tyndall had first met Olivia. Today the weather and sea were kind, so Niah and Tyndall waded ashore from the dinghy to picnic for a few hours.

He took her across the dunes and along the sandy scrub track to the low line of trees and a small spring-fed creek. They’d brought food and Tyndall
settled himself in the shade with his journal. Leaving him to his jottings, Niah set off to explore the area.

Within a short time she noticed tracks and when she eventually came across a mound of discarded oyster shells and shellfish, she knew this was a regular camping site. Like Ohvia before her, Niah sat down in the shade near the midden and felt a great peace and sense of security steal over her. She closed her eyes and rested, almost falling asleep, but was awakened by a group of Aboriginal women calling out to her.

Niah had not expected to understand them but, astonishingly, some words and phrases were familiar, greetings taught to her by her Aboriginal grandmother. She repeated them with curiosity and immense excitement. Her mind was whirling as memories and questions flooded her thoughts. The women gathered around and asked about Tyndall, having recognised his schooner. Niah smiled and pointed down the track then, with a widening grin, she pointed to her swollen belly and said, ‘Tyndall baby.’

This brought gales of delighted laughter and as they were about to move away to find him the oldest woman gesticulated and began talking rapidly and seriously. The other women gathered about her. Niah was unable to follow the conversation, but then the old woman pointed at her shell pendant and began asking questions.

Niah trembled as it dawned on her she had a connection with these people. But she couldn’t understand their language or few words of English
so, with signs, she indicated they all walk downstream to meet Tyndall.

After the formalities of greeting, Niah quickly told Tyndall of their interest in her pendant and her recognition of some of their language. They sat in a big circle under the trees and with his knowledge of the language they slowly established the story of the woman who went to live on the other side of the monsoon winds. An old woman sat down and, with a stick, began to draw in the sandy dirt. She drew the pattern depicted on the pendant, explaining the strokes meant trips across the sea, the big circle meant the moon and the small circles were … and here they stumbled on the unknown word until the old woman, with a big grin, pointed at the pearl hanging from Tyndall’s ear.

The women clapped their hands then led Niah and Tyndall further down the track and back onto the beach. Here they showed Niah the remains of stone fireplaces built by the Macassans for boiling the trepang.

Niah sat awkwardly on the sand and ran her hands over the old stones, trying to conjure the scene of generations before. Tyndall watched her, realising how meaningful this was for her. Her childlike excitement had been replaced by a deeper sense of awareness that she had discovered a new link with her family’s past.

‘I know story of my family. Now I know my family. Now I have story to tell baby.’

‘It’s incredible. Quite amazing really. But then life is full of such surprises,’ he said. The longing and the
joy in her face touched him deeply. ‘Now you have a Dreaming.’

Word was sent back to the rest of the Aboriginal group and by the evening they had all gathered on the beach with Niah and Tyndall around a big campfire. There was much discussion among the elders and it was agreed that a celebration was in order. A corroboree would take place the following night.

It was a homecoming corroboree, the women explained to Niah, holding her hands, and Niah felt tears of joy running down her cheeks. She had found part of her family.

The fires were burning brightly as twilight faded to a soft night. The members of the community not performing sat with Tyndall and Niah in a half circle talking, laughing and playing with children.

Then suddenly, without introduction, to the beat of music sticks and chanting, some men came out of the darkness and began the dance. Some of the ceremonial white clay designs painted on their bodies were the same as the pattern on her pendant. Their dance depicted seafarers from Macassar guiding their
praus
across the sea. Others, playing their own ancestors, welcomed them ashore. Then, in superb pantomime, they mimed the diving for shell, and the cooking of the trepang. The stirring of the pots which gave off a foul odour drew a laugh from the audience. Then a woman was singled out and taken away by the visitors in their boat. There were accompanying wails of sadness as she bid goodbye to her family. But then she returned with a baby and there
was much celebration until it was time to go again. The long song of the elders told of the unity of family, of how the spirits of the sea and the great ocean birds carried their messages from land to land and kept them all as one. Tyndall grasped the message, even though he didn’t understand all the words, that physical separation could never break the ties that link a family through generations. He saw the tears glistening on Niah’s cheeks as the dance ended. She, too, understood this concept of unity and belonging and he was glad for her.

After six weeks at sea the
Shamrock
slid quietly into Broome ahead of the fleet. Niah was close to term and Tyndall had decided to come back to port.

Two nights later, in the early hours of the morning, Olivia was awakened by Ahmed banging on the front door.

‘Mem, Niah baby come. No can find midwife. Tuan says come quick.’

Olivia dressed quickly, asked Conrad to look after Hamish, and then drove in the sulky with Ahmed back to Tyndall’s bungalow. As Ahmed left her to continue his search for the midwife Olivia told him, ‘There’s an Aboriginal woman down by Kennedy’s camp. I’ve heard she helps at births, see if you can find her.’

A concerned Tyndall paced around the bedroom with a glass of rum while Niah moaned on the bed.

‘John, you’re not being any help. Please go and wait on the verandah,’ said Olivia firmly.

‘Whatever you say,’ he agreed, glad to escape.

Niah began walking awkwardly about the room, finding it more comfortable. When Olivia tried to get her back onto the bed she refused and then insisted on squatting, rocking to and fro.

Then the midwife, Minnie arrived, explaining simply, ‘Ahmed get me.’

Olivia nodded, grateful for the strength and calmness of the Aboriginal woman.

Minnie bent over Niah and murmured a few words. Niah reached up to take her hand, responding in the same language, and smiled briefly.

A few minutes later the baby began to push its way into the world. Niah insisted on squatting and the Aboriginal woman nodded in agreement.

‘Well, if she wants to have it this way, we can’t argue now,’ said Olivia. Minnie moved behind Niah and held her against her ample chest. Panting with exertion, the crouching Niah pushed and delivered her baby into Olivia’s steady hands.

Olivia cut the cord and lifted up the baby, while Minnie pressed out the placenta and helped Niah back onto the bed. Olivia then cleaned the baby, wrapped it in a cotton shawl and bent down to show Niah. She nodded with satisfaction, smiled and leaned back on the pillow, closing her eyes to rest after the effort.