Tulagi was a pearl—very small—the walk around at a leisurely pace only takes two hours. It was triangular in shape.
The apex to the triangle being where the gaol was on the southern end of the island and a ridge of hill running from the back of the gaol right through the centre of the island. All the houses were similar, built of wood and on high piles with red corrugated iron roofs. Each house had several gallon water tanks attached to it.
We had to rely entirely on rain water for our drinking and washing water. These houses had good verandahs and a dining room and one or two bedrooms according to the status of the officer occupying them. Viewed from its harbour, Tulagi—strewn with white coral paths and gardens—was picturesque and rather beautiful.
Wilfred Fowler joined the government staff there in about I was entranced by what I saw and went down the steps into the garden. There were hibiscus bushes with scarlet, white and apricot coloured flowers. Frangipani trees with funereal cream-and-white blooms gave off a cloying scent. On a tree at the end of the garden a purple orchid was in full flower. Then I noticed the poinciana regia [sic], the flame tree, at the edge of the path outside, a gorgeous medley of red and yellow. Down the slope below the house, three hornbills, with black wings and white tails, flew laboriously with raucous staccato cries and whirring wings to a clump of trees.
Further away a flock of cockatoos frightened by something screeched noisily. I walked around the garden. At the top of a coconut palm two red parrots clung upside down pecking at flowers.
