p. 11 | G. F. JONES by G. F. JONES

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Aug 24, 1916

G. F. JONES

By G. F. JONES

Pioneering Experiences in the Solomon Islands — No. 1

G. F. JONES

NEARLY two years ago the Australasian Union Conference sent us to begin work in the Solomon Islands, known as unexplored lands, the home of fighting savages and head-hunting tribes. Some people looked upon it as a romantic and exciting trip, and so it truly was. But to us it meant much responsibility and care, and some anxiety as to where we should begin, and how. There was no town or anything like one anywhere in the group. So to settle down somewhere and rent a house, or hire a room, or stay at a hotel while looking around, was not to be thought of, for not even a shed could we find in which to unpack our boxes.

There was, however, one store at the place where we were landed by the steamer, and a government resident, who lived one and one-half miles away; but not even a spare box room for us. Strange to say, there were no natives living anywhere on the part of the island where we had landed. We felt very homeless, and almost wished that we had been set down in a village of naked savages, for we had resigned ourselves to any and every kind of experience. But we were not at all discouraged. We were in the Solomon Islands for all there was for us, and the word of God's promise spoke with cheer, hope, and confidence: “Enlarge the place of thy tent, and let them stretch forth the curtains of thine habitations: spare not, lengthen thy cords, and strengthen thy stakes; for thou shalt break forth on the right hand and on the left. . . . Fear not; for thou shalt not be ashamed; neither be thou confounded; for thou shalt not be put to shame.” Isa. 54: 2-4.

“God's people are not to cease their labors until they shall encircle the world. . . . New territories are to be worked by men inspired by the Holy Spirit. . . . The light is to shine to all lands and all peoples. . . . A crisis is right upon us.”

After all, we were not without a home, for on the steamer's deck was a boat, thirty-two feet long, decked over, and with a motor engine. Then there was in the steamer's hold a portable house about eighteen feet long, containing two rooms nine feet square, with walls eight feet high,—a tiny house, but what a luxury as compared with no place at all! and how we wished we could put it up somewhere soon! With great care and some anxiety the officers of the steamer hoisted our boat over the steamer's side. It weighed eight and one-half tons. They were glad to get rid of their burdensome cargo, and bundled everything into the boat—our boxes and all. They then pushed us off to drift where we liked. We threw over the small anchor, and the boat was brought to a standstill.

We dared not think of the morrow. It was only one day at a time, and that day was Friday. It was a beautiful, bright, calm day. The masts must be stepped, the rigging set up, and there were sails to bend, boxes and bundles and cases to be stowed away somehow, for “the Sabbath drew on.” In a few hours the steamer, which had been our home for two weeks, took its departure, and we were left alone in our small floating home. The cabin was filled with boxes and bundles. The deck was the same, and there seemed no room anywhere to rest or to put things away. It reminded us of that verse in Isaiah, “The bed is shorter than that a man can stretch himself on it; and the covering narrower than that he can wrap himself in it.”

We are both short people, but the cabin was so low that we bumped our heads when we stood up. Things might have been much worse though, and we were quite happy that we did have some kind of home in such a strange place. We slept that night like “the babes in the wood,” and woke up on Sabbath morning with no food prepared for the Sabbath, for we could not get at anything; but a kind lady, in seeing us off on the steamer at Sydney, had put in our hands a tin of asparagus and a tin of biscuits. So the Lord had thought of us beforehand on that first Sabbath day in the Solomon Islands, and we had a royal feast of asparagus and biscuits for breakfast, for dinner, and for supper.

We reached the Solomon Islands just in time to witness the breaking of the northwest monsoons for the season. That very day brought the wildest storm, with lightning and thunder and rain, such as only the tropics can produce. Our little vessel, being quite new and its timbers not yet water soaked, leaked like a basket, and of course everything in it got wet through and through. Our nice American trunks were curled up through the rain, while our new white clothes at the bottom were all wet and mildewed. I said to my wife, “No more nice American trunks for me; for they are too clumsy for two little people like us.” So we decided to have fewer bundles and smaller trunks in the future, and a few more blue dungaree suits and fewer white ones.

The dark, gloomy, wet, windy weather lasted for several days, and it seemed as if the sun would never shine again. But through it all we kept cheerful, for that word, “Thou shalt break forth on the right hand and on the left. . . . Fear not; for thou shalt not be ashamed,” shone through those gloomy days brighter than the sun, and we saw only visions of mission stations, and schools, and converts, and workers, and prosperity, and progress.

Marovo Lagoon.