Monday, Dec. 13, 1954
Special Delivery
The South Pacific's frigate birds have not the high standards of U.S. postmen through storm and sleet and snow and dark of night. But, in their slapdash way, the frigate birds do pretty well. For centuries, the islanders in France's remote Tuamotu archipelago have used the frigate bird to carry messages from island to island, putting their faith in the tropical laziness that prompts the birds to fly no farther than the nearest island. If the mail is not always delivered on time and seldom with any privacy, at least it costs nothing and there are no stamps to fuss with.
Content with this system, a native of Raraka recently caught a frigate bird and fastened to his wing a note enclosing 20 francs for a friend on nearby Katiu. True to his proud tradition, the frigate took off, but in the wrong direction. Days later, just as the natives were coming out of church, he swooped into a three-point landing on New Zealand's Rakahanga island, a full 1,000 miles away. A government clerk spotted the note clipped to the wing, and relieved the errant frigate of his burden. It took a telegram, many more days, a set of stamps, two airplane trips, a boat trip and the combined efforts of both the New Zealand and French postal systems to undo the work of the bird who flew not wisely but too well.
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