47 Sunday, April 11 1948. This has been a pleasant day, with nothing being re- quired to be done very urgently. It is about the first day we have had when we could really slack and take things easy. Len spent most of it at our warehouse, straightening out his plants; Van went out to Green Island, a spot about fifteen miles offshore from Cairns; George loaferd around during the morning and went out bat-hunting with George Brooks, the local dentist; I wrote letters all morning and in the afternoon went out to see a Rugby game. Shortly after 5 PM Len and I went to call on Mr. and Mrs. Dupain, where we were invited for cocktails. I had hoped that as Mrs. is the leader of society in Cairns we might really get a cocktail, but it turned out to be Scotch and soda. Not that I sneer at that by any means. The dentist, George Brooks, holds a good dental degree but is far more interested in natural history than dentistry. I had to have some minor re- pairs made on Friday, going to his office twice. Each time George left the dentist's chair, once with his mouth stuffed full of what looked like cotton bandage, to come out and talk expeditionary affairs with me. I have to see him again on Monday to have a cleaning job done and am wondering what effect his interest in the expedition will have on his fees. Dupain was in good form and would, I think, be good fun out on a party. He knows the South Pacific well and has spent all his life at the various Burns, Philp branches, serving in the small islands as well as in New Guinea and on the mainland. Tomorrow we start waiting again for our stuff to come out of Time's capacious holds so I hope I shall have something interesting to set down in this by tomorrow evening. Monday, 12 April 1947. Today has been another of those rushed periods with many small things to be done which appear simple and easy and, of course, are, but they take up a lot of time, such things as transference of funds from our dollar account to our sterling account, pack- ing of specimens which people insist on bringing in just when everything has been packed, searching of the town for enamel plates and scarce commodities, repairs to a camp cot belonging to Ernie Stevens and so on, with never a sign of our freight emerging from the black and smelly bowels of the Time. This evening I had to go to the Museum to take some cartons over there and to pack up a hermit crab that Van brought in last night and forgot un- til noon, and after attending to these jobs, at 6 P.M., I walked over to the wharf. To my vast delight and relief, I arrived there in time to see our first crate come out of the hold, quickly followed by another. I did not wait for them all - they must be somewhere near each other - but it means we can start work tomorrow morning on the re-packing and dismantling of the crates. That in turn means that we can be ready to sail on Wednesday or Thursday, if there is a ship to take us. There simply is nothing definite in this country and if a definite state- ment is made, it is sure to be corrected eight hours later. For example we were told that Cora, the Burke ship, will leave here definitely on Tuesday. That was last Friday. Today I learn that she is still in Townsville. Many such things have happened, quite unrelated to the strike, and nobody seems to care very much whether they know anything about anything or not. The manana spirit is abroad in the land here just as much as in South America. However, I shall have some envelopes tomorrow.