trains are so cute, like toy trains,â said Bella.
âItâs a very efficient way of getting the cane to the mills quickly. The cane needs to be crushed as soon as itâs cut to get the maximum value from it.â Roberta paused as they watched the train rattle away. âIt was the sugar cane industry that brought my ancestors to Australia. Not that they all exactly came by choice.â
âWhere did your ancestors come from?â Bella asked.
âMy family originally comes from Melanesia, the South Sea Islands,â answered Roberta. âThe first member of my family came here in the 1870s when he was more or less shanghaied. You must have heard of blackbirding?â
âOnly vaguely,â said Bella, suddenly feeling awkward. There was a fleeting expression on Robertaâs face that made Bella realise she wasnât the first person to admit to such ignorance.
Calmly Roberta explained, âIn the late part of the nineteenth century, sugar cane began to be grown in tropical Queensland, but for the cane farmers to be able to compete with cheap world sugar prices, they needed cheap labour. So ships sailed to the Pacific Islands and induced young men, usually with a bribe of cheap shoddy goods, to become indentured labour. In some cases, strong-looking boys were just grabbed off the beach. They were brought to the cane fields and worked extremely hard cutting cane for very little money.â Robertaâs face was composed but Bella could see her emotions shifting below the surface. âOf course it was argued that these men came to Australia voluntarily, but thatâs rubbish. Those boys had no idea what was happening to them and if they did sign anything, they had no idea what they were signing because they were illiterate. This trade was called blackbirding.â
Bella was startled. âThatâs appalling. Do you know how many Islanders were involved?â
âNo one is really sure, but it was possibly up to sixty thousand. Our own quiet slave trade.â
âThatâs outrageous. I had no idea,â Bella exclaimed angrily. Suddenly the green of the cane fields either side of her seemed sinister. Not at all the tropical paradise that she had been admiring.
Roberta glanced at her and smiled. âYouâre not alone there. Many Australians donât know much about it either.â The train rattled off into the distance and Roberta restarted the car and they resumed their journey.
âDid any of these Islanders return home?â Bella asked.
âThatâs the really bad part,â Roberta said with a sigh. âSome of them returned home after their contracts expired, but many of them would sign up again after their initial indenture period, especially as their pay rates improved because they were considered to be experienced. Sadly, for some of them, contracts werenât honoured and they never got paid. Then, over the years they lost contact with their homes and formed new relationships in Queensland. Many learned to read and write and most became Christians and developed an attachment to their church. The ambitious ones who had been here long enough saved to buy their own land and grew cane or fruit and vegetables.â
Bella glanced at Roberta and asked gently, âIs that what your family did?â
Roberta paused, but then said, âYes, in the beginning.â Her mouth quirked. âBut at the turn of the twentieth century, when Australia became one country, there was a push by the national government for racial purity. All races that werenât white, like Chinese, Japanese, Filipinos and Pacific Islanders, were no longer wanted, and most were forced to return to their country of origin.â
Bella rolled her eyes. âHow ironic. First your ancestors were brought here to help build the country and then, when they had contributed, they were sent back home. Hardly makes sense!â
âIt wasnât just the