Golfing Round the World
Chapter XI A Nursery for Birdies
Tropical life was still in full swing aboard the "Imperatrice" as we crossed the South China Sea with the enormous mass of Borneo, invisible but protective on the starboard hand, and French Indo China equally obscure on our port quarter. We thought this sort of thing was going on for ever, the swimming tank was in great request, bunks were made up on deck, ice creams formed the staple dish at every meal and sometimes twice or thrice at a sitting. For nearly the first time in my life I learnt the charm of ice cold water as a beverage. At convenient positions all over the ship were fitted up ice cold filters with special spring water from Canada. Beside the filters were large inverted glass testubes containing pleated paper tumblers known as 'Tulip Cups'. You pressed a button lever, and out fell a cup into a little peg placed for its reception. Electric fans, punkahs, and cool pressure fed air currents operated everywhere.
We were heading for Manila in the island of Luzon in the Philippines. Years ago I had made a voyage on a Spanish steamer, and my Steward was a cheerful sunny Filipino who went by the name of 'Frisco' and I was keenly interested to see the land that produced a spirit so merry and lighthearted.
Let me say at once that the harbour at Manila is the largest in the world - that I have seen - and certainly one of the most beautiful.
This argument about harbours can easily become quite a warm one. People who have seen harbours that you have not, naturally claim the honours for their own particular fancy. Speaking quite personally, I am prepared to let it go at that. The estuary of the Mawddach in Merionethshire is not exactly a harbour, but to me it is the most beautiful haven in the world. I suppose the truth of the matter is that the landlocked piece of water with its features of capes and mountains, coves and creeks, trees and waterfalls and splashing streams, is very like a picture painted upon canvas, and, as everyone knows, it is useless to argue about things of beauty. The eternal joys of life are not for disputation, but for whole hearted and grateful acceptance.
You approach Manila Bay through a fairly narrow entrance the mouth of which is almost blocked by the gaunt and rocky isle of Corregidor, aptly named the Gibraltar of the East. This great American fortress is the formidable defensive work which guards their most important naval station of Cavite just within the bay. High mountains form the horns of entrance and you pass into a huge calm lagoon the circumference of whose shores measures one hundred miles. Manila lies just opposite the mouth and twenty miles across the bay.
The "Imperatrice" was accorded a public welcome to the Phillippines. Two really magnificent brass bands played for our benefit on the wharf as we came alongside, and the Mayor of Manila sent a letter of welcome to each passenger. This was both courteous and friendly and predisposed one to enjoy and appreciate a visit to such hospitable coasts. Manila was, however, one of the few ports of call where I found it impossible to get en rapport with a golf club. The intense heat over 90 in the shade, had something to do with my failure, but on the other hand, though I could not play on it I made the acquaintance of the queerest nine hole course I have ever seen.
This was the municipal links which circle the ancient walls of Intramuros, the old Spanish city of Manila. Seeing that busy public highways, with motor traffic tearing to and fro, intersected the course at intervals of every hundred yards, and moreover that another wide avenue practically surrounded the links at a distance from about fify yards from the age old walls it seemed as if golf for the uninsured player would involve him in financial ruin, and even if he escaped the payment of damages his liability for murder, manslaughter, or wounding with intent was heavier still. Suffice it to say, I saw no one incurring these risks, and I did not feel tempted to essay them on my own account. For an accurate player possessing nerves of steel, and plumb line definiteness of aim the course might present many allurements. A hooked shot was bound to fall into the shallow moat beneath the crumbling battlements and the least slice was certain to kill a passing peon. Still Manila is now an American capital of an American colony, and may be it is on this course that the Hagens and Jones and other super golfers of the United States, receive their early training, and acquire that deadly accuracy and iron nerve, with which in these later days we in Britain are so sorrowfully familiar, while yielding a mead of sincere admiration to such accomplished skill.
The Philippines belonged to Spain until 1898, when they were acquired by conquest for the U.S.A. as a result of a brilliant naval action by Admiral Dewey. There are over seven thousand islands in the group, covering a total area rather less than that of the British Isles. Manila is a city of character and distinction and extraordinarily prosperous. In a population of two hundred and eightythree thousand, only five thousand of which are Americans or Europeans, there are over eleven thousand motor cars.
While lunching with an American friend living in Manila I asked if there were any British cars among the myriads of vehicles which thronged the streets. He said, after some hesitation, that he thought he remembered seeing one some years ago, but added that there were substantial reasons why there were now no foreign cars, first because a high import duty was levied against those of extraneous origin whereas American makes were allowed in free, and in the second place because the American firms had established depots for spare parts and repairs all over the island and therefore it was more economical to buy only American vehicles. In the same connection I observed that in every Eastern port we visited there was a large preponderance of American and Canadian motor cars over those from any other country. The only exception was Bombay where British and American appeared to be about equal in number.
The new docks, the handsome Jones bridge across the river Pasig, and the magnificent roads and avenues, everywhere, are a credit to American administration, which has spent gold like water upon this fortunate city.
Within the space of one month I had had the opportunity of seeing British, Dutch and American colonies, and comparisons between the three simply could not be avoided. In India I had felt proud to belong to the British Empire, in Ceylon I rejoiced that we possessed so delectable a place, and in Singapore I was not only proud and happy but grateful to that great Empire builder Sir Stamford Raffles, the man of dauntless courage and indomitable patriotism, who, realising that there was the key and pivot of all the Far East, landed with a handful of men and planted the Union Jack amid the primitive huts of the native village, in virtual defiance of the Whitehall Mandarins of his day.
In Sumatra and Java I felt of course, a mere guest, but a welcome one, in those kindly, orderly, and paternal Dutch Dominions. Here in Manila I was again a welcome guest, but perhaps a little breathless to discover how completely a forceful and pre-efficient nation could stamp its character and personality upon a whole people, and its cities and lands within the short period of twentyseven years.
The British method of colonisation is to encourage the development of the native races, more or less according to their own inclinations, while giving them the advantages of orderly administration under British institutions. The Dutch method appears to be similar, but does not allow so much liberty of native caprice and insists on a certain conformity to Dutch Curricula. The American system will ultimately convert every native subject into a complete American citizen.
Reflections of this nature occurred to me, as I was taking it most delightfully easy on the deck of the "Imperatrice" whence we commanded a wide view of the bay. Naval craft were busily flitting to and fro, cosmopolitan merchantmen lay at anchor, and nearby a magnificent six masted fore and aft steel schooner cast the shimmering reflection of its bright red hull and lofty poles upon the sunlit water. The waters of the bay were turquoise blue and the clear cut profile of the mountains circling the distant shores of the harbour was an almost even toned purple. I know all this because I tried to sketch it.
For a complete and entirely untutored tyro as I was, I found dabbling with a paintbrush and water colours a most humorous and absorbing pastime. The humour of it was that some of my fellow passengers took it seriously and bewildered me with much technical talk and kindly criticism, whereas my intention was absolutely and emphatically 'artless' in every possible sense of the word.
At dusk I went ashore, and scorning the eleven thousand automobiles I hired a 'Carretela' a two-wheeled, one horsed, hooded vehicle, very much the prototype of the Japanese sado and the Indian buggy. The driver was an insouciant if slightly grasping Filipino. My few words of Malay were of no use here but he understood my attempts at Spanish American sufficiently to conduct me through the romantic old Intramuros to the gay Escolto in the new city across the river, where I naturally bought cigars: and thence across the river again to the Mehan gardens to enjoy the sight of all Manila taking the air in the genial twilight of open park. Then on again to the Luneta, an immense green sward on the sea front, and there I feasted my eyes on the most incredible sunset ever seen by man wherein the sky was scarlet, the Maravele mountains indigo black, and the wide expanse of the great lagoon a rich electric blue. It was worth the extra peso demanded by my black-a-vised jarvey.
All Manila came to bid farewell. We held a reception on deck to which all the youth and beauty of the town came dressed in its best. The Spanish influence still survives in the extreme grace of bearing and dress of the Filipino women. There was a sort of Mantilla and delicate lace effect in their graceful white frocks with flimsy epaulette sleeves which was a charming and refreshing contrast to the somewhat tubular or semi-sack like vestments worn in the West. But beautiful women are inclined to look well in anything at all.
The "Imperatrice" herself was a mass of frills of coloured streamers as we glided away from the quay to the cheerful strains of 'Auld Acquaintance' rendered by all Manila's bands in unison.