Reunion in Paradise

"I honor Elizabeth as Queen of England and Sovereign Ruler of a noble people. I am stirred by this young girl who faces a tremendous task with a calmness of heart that shows she trusts in God. Lastly, although I have yet to meet her, I love her."

The speaker was the only woman in the British Commonwealth who had the right to talk of England's Queen on such terms of equality: Her Majesty Salote Tupou, Sovereign Ruler of the Eden-like Pacific Kingdom of Tonga, the Friendly Islands.

Bananas & Gingerbread. Last June 53-year-old Queen Salote traveled halfway round the world to see and meet Elizabeth at her coronation in London. Many a Londoner still has a vivid impression of the tall (6 ft. 3 in.), infinitely dignified Polynesian monarch as she rode through the rain in her open coronation carriage, disdaining the protection of even an umbrella in deference to her sister sovereign. The cheers that resounded for Queen Salote on London's streets that day were second only in volume (by actual measurement) to those which rang out for Elizabeth herself.

Last week Elizabeth, ruler of 50 million British subjects, stopped off on her voyage to Australia to pay a return visit to Salote. As the visiting Queen stepped ashore at the Tongan capital of Nukualofa, it began to rain once more. Both Queens smiled broadly as Salote this time opened a large green umbrella and raised it over both their heads.

It had been a busy week for the Tongan Queen, whose 48,000 devoted subjects are possessed of almost every virtue except a fondness for hard work. The benevolent protection of the British navy and the lush abundance of the 200 or more islands which make up Salote's kingdom make physical labor largely unnecessary. On reaching manhood, every young Tongan gets a grant of eight acres of land from the government. On that land he can spend the rest of his life raising coconuts and bananas with a minimum of effort. As the British Queen's visit drew near last week, the Tongans felt far more inclined to sing and dance than to work, but there was much to be done.

Pigs, Paint, Pineapples. Salote spent the week rushing about her island, keeping the festive spirit under control and supervising all the details of preparation. She saw the last of a spanking new coat of paint slapped on to her white Victorian-gingerbread royal palace, oversaw daily rehearsals of the entertainment program, including the plaintive nose-fluting solos dear to the heart of every Tongan despite the fact that their music is limited to three notes. There were triumphant rustic arches, bearing the legend "I Love You" to be made for the royal route of march, tapa cloth banners to be cut and painted, pigs to be killed, pineapples to be picked and the Royal Tongan Military Band to be drilled.

At the British residency, genial British Consul Jimmy Windrum and his Texas-bred wife Lois were busily making arrangements for a dinner dance: Jimmy himself anxiously supervised some electrical repairs made necessary by an ailing generator. Later on, when the royal reception was in full sway, someone unwisely plugged in an electric guitar and the whole works blew again, but nobody seemed to mind in the least.