Tears of the Moon - Di Morrissey [195]
Mabel left and Maya and Olivia got ready for bed.
Maya slipped down the hall and tapped at Olivia’s door. ‘Good night. Sweet dreams, Olivia.’
‘Maya, come in for a minute.’ Olivia was standing in her nightgown brushing her long hair, still wearing the pearls. She put down the brush and lifted the pearls over her head. ‘Maya, these are to be yours one day. And I trust you will pass them on to Georgiana.’
‘Oh, Olivia … I don’t know what to say. They’re so beautiful.’ Together they fingered the perfect spheres the colour of moonlight.
‘You and I know, maybe better than most women, at what cost these come. The price men pay is not in money.’
‘It’s like these cast a spell,’ said Maya softly.
‘Men have always searched for some prize, a reward, but secretly I think it’s the adventure of the search that lures them. I often think that pearls hold the souls of men. See how they come to life against your skin. Don’t put them away in a box, wear them.’
‘I’ll remember that.’
They hugged and Maya went to her room.
And while Tyndall and his pearling mates began a game of bowls using tennis balls and bottles of champagne in the grounds of the Conti, his daughter and his wife slept peacefully.
There followed years Olivia always remembered as the Happy Years. She and Tyndall were blissfully content, enjoying every moment they spent together, whether working over details of the business or simply watching the sunset from the verandah. He made her laugh, they still found each other’s company exhilarating and their lovemaking continued as passionate as ever. Occasionally Tyndall swept a willing Olivia away from their bed to make love under the stars or on one of the boats they motored to a far reach of the bay. They built a tiny one-room shack further along the coast past Cable Beach where they sometimes camped for days at a stretch. ‘Shipwreck House’ they called it. They cooked over an open fire, swam naked in rock pools and slept in hammocks between palm trees.
Olivia described these days of simple fun in detail in her diary … watching the big circus that came up by coastal steamer and performed in the grounds of the Conti … an evening at Sun Pictures sitting in the canvas deck chairs in the open air, a length of lattice dividing the whites from the ‘coloureds’ who sat on benches on the other side … cold lemon shaved ices on a hot afternoon … wild turkey and duck hunting trips to Lake Eda, Stan’s young relatives acting as retrievers … and watching at sunset hundreds of brolgas performing mating dances around the fringes of Roebuck Plains. On these trips Olivia collected flower and grass specimens which she pressed in her flower book.
The Depression knocked the bottom out of the pearling business once again. By the mid-thirties the sliding price for shell had forced many pearlers out of business and others had to sell off some of their luggers. The Star of the Sea fleet was down to the schooner, Mist, and four boats, six having been sold off for very poor prices. The situation was made worse by new incursions by foreign vessels into Australian waters as well as the deep sea beds. The development of small engines for the luggers had given fleets a much greater mobility and the Australian pearlers were faced with a virtual invasion of mainly Japanese operated craft, particularly in the northern waters.
The pearlers, including Tyndall, were furious but there seemed to be nothing they could do.
Olivia tried to be philosophical about the changing world. ‘John, you’re in your sixties and we’ve had a good run. There’s still money to be made and we’re comfortable.’
‘It’s just not right though … Sure, a lot of the pearling is done in international waters, but the foreigners are coming into territorial waters as well. You know, the police tell me they’ve heard of lubras being sold to Japanese and Malay crews for liquor, tobacco and flour. But they haven’t caught anyone. And the customs people are bloody hopeless, too. Haven’t any decent boats.’
Tyndall