A Noble Sea Game. 
UST as my wild-eyed, touzle-headed Gilbert 
Island cook brought me my early coffee 
and hard ship biscuit, Toria and Vailele— 
brown-skinned brother and sister—peeped in 
through the window, and in their curious 
bastard Samoan said ’twas a glorious morn to 
fahaheke. 
Now I had learned to fahaheke (use a surf¬ 
board), having been instructed therein by the 
youths and maidens of the village individually 
and collectively. And when you have once 
learned surf-swimming the game takes posses¬ 
sion of your innermost soul like unto cycling 
and golf. So I said I would come, and instantly 
my young friends handed me in a surfing cos¬ 
tume, a highly indecorous looking girdle of thin 
strippings of the leaf of the pandanus palm. 
