A few days out from Singapore the Mate brought forth an unexpected passenger. He'd noticed that a barrel had moved out of alignment a couple of days earlier but had thought nothing of it at the time. It was in his mind when he woke that morning and he went to investigate. Really it was barely noticeable but being the tidy type, he'd seen that the barrel was a few inches out. Peering over the top he was surprised to find a young dark-haired boy had taken up residence. "Oi!" he cried and caught the offender by the jacket before he had time to scurry away. When he picked the child up, he realised his mistake; this was no child but a young man. "Where do you think you're going?" the Mate asked him. The man looked at him blankly. "Do you speak English?" the Mate asked next. He shrugged his shoulders. "Right, let's take you to the Captain."

Squirming and reluctant the man was pushed in front of John as the Mate said, "found him down with the barrels Captain. What shall we do with him?"

John looked the man up and down. He was slight, dark haired and rather darker of skin than most of his kin. Not so much yellow as tan John thought. Not that that made any difference. "What are you doing here?" John asked slowly. "You know where we are going?" The man nodded furiously. "I suppose you are hoping to find gold, is that it?"

"Gold," repeated the man.

"What's your name?" John asked.

The man looked at him blankly. "Me John," said John patting his chest. "And you?" he said patting the man's chest. "Zhang Wei," he replied.

"Eh?" John hadn't heard a name like that before, it sounded like a blur of consonants in the wrong order.

"Zhang Wei," the stranger repeated more slowly.

John looked across at the Mate who shrugged his shoulders.

"We'll just call you Little Pete, after the man who found you. How does that sound?" John turned to the Mate grinning. "You hungry?" he pointed at his mouth. Zhang Wei had caught nothing of the previous conversation but the miming he did understand. His meagre rations were just about to run out and he nodded. "Isaiah'll find him something to eat," John said to the Mate.

"Oh," said Isaiah when the Mate took Little Pete to the galley.

"Captain says you're to feed him," the Mate instructed.

Isaiah took down a bowl and sloshed a ladleful of that day's stew into it and handed it over. Zhang Wei looked at the bowl and picked up the spoon wonderingly. Tentatively he picked the implement up and put it into the bowl upside-down. "He'll be missing his chopsticks," Isaiah said to the Mate as he straightened the spoon in Little Pete's hands. Then he mimicked what the man should do next. The tender meat tasted odd, but he was hungry, so he ate it with the strange implement and smiled at the cook in appreciation after he had slurped up the broth.

As the youngest son from a large poor family Zhang Wei had been tasked with finding the family fortune in far off Australia. They all lived in a small room in Singapore where everyone worked at some trade or another. They had friends whose sons had gone there and had written back that although it was not easy, one could find a fortune there. He had lost his poor paying laundry job when the boss decided to employ a relative instead. He'd watched the rowboats go back and forth to the ships in the harbour one day and stowed away under a tarpaulin when a downpour caught him by surprise. He woke up when the boat had been brought up onto the ship before sailing and just hoped it was going to his destination, though he felt with a failing heart that it was unlikely. Hiding in the gloomy hold behind some barrels he eked out his rice wondering how he would survive, when the Mate tapped him on the shoulder.

Word had flashed around the ship like lightening when the Mate took the stowaway up to the Captain and soon the family knew as much as anyone, which was to say practically nothing. Rumour had it that he had set up camp in the hold and was roasting rats over a small fire.

Susanna was having a rough night. She was teething and inconsolable. Marilla had tried all the usual remedies including a rag dipped in spirits, to no effect and Susanna continued to scream the ship down. In desperation and to save the rest of the family Marilla had taken her out onto the deck in an attempt to distract her, "look," she said pointing up. "There are the stars, can you see them, and the reflection of the moon on the water, isn't it beautiful." She knew the baby was unlikely to understand a word but talked on in the thin hope that her voice would have a calming effect. After a while she felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around in surprise. Before her stood the Chinaman with his hands held out.

Marilla hesitated, what did this foreign man know about babies? But in all honesty, she was running out of ideas and more to the point energy; they had been up for hours. She handed the squalling infant over and watched in amazement when she stopped crying.

"Thank you," said Marilla gratefully, tears of exhaustion in her eyes. "Thank you."

"What's his secret?" John asked the next morning.

"No idea, she just clammed right up as soon as I placed her in his arms," said Marilla. "After the night I'd had I wasn't going to quibble. It was just a blessed relief to have her silent."

"Mm," John nodded. "And what happened next?"

"She was obviously exhausted, because shortly afterwards she fell asleep and he handed her back to me and I put her to bed. She's still sleeping. If I have to, I'll wake her."

"Very strange, maybe he's a professional child minder."

As it happened Zhang Wei knew little about babies. His mother had given birth to several after him and he had been forced to look after them on occasion which he did with ill grace because he had no choice. Still that night he, and probably everyone else on board had heard the Captain's baby wailing in distress and eventually he had made his way up from the hold to find the Captain's wife with her screeching child. He was as shocked as Marilla when the baby settled down.

"Sh, sh." Mari was unsuccessfully trying to soothe fractious Susanna one afternoon when he worked his charm again. Ordinarily Mari would not hand Susanna over to any member of the crew and certainly not to this foreigner, but Marilla had told her the story of their unusual interlude and Mari was running out of patience. It happened again, Susanna stopped crying and closed her eyes. "It was like magic, Aunt Marilla," Mari said her to later.

"Well I don't know about magic, but I'll take it regardless. She wears me down, I'm sure she does you too?" Mari nodded.

Zhang Wei often turned up when the women were at their wit's end and they gratefully handed her over and sighed when he did whatever he did. "I don't know about you, but I'm going to miss him when he leaves," Marilla told Mari. "He may be a stowaway, but he's decidedly useful."

The boys enjoyed Zhang Wei's company too. One day he showed them how to paint with water and they spent an enjoyable afternoon covering the deck with their fleeting images. He even got involved when Mari suggested they send a message in a bottle.

They asked Isaiah to find them an empty bottle and spent some time composing a suitable message. In the end Mari wrote a missive including the name of their ship, who they were and asked the finder to write to them care of Uncle Matthew on far away Prince Edward Island, deciding after some discussion that that was the best course of action. They asked Little Pete to write something but being illiterate he included a small painting of the ship instead. Rolling their papers into a scroll they placed it in the bottle and twice sealed the bottle with a cork and wax. The boys felt very grown up as they made their way aft to throw their little missive out into the world. Johnny kept looking at it bobbing behind them until it grew too small to see. Sometimes he wondered where it would turn up and what his uncle Matthew would make of it if someone replied.

Mari brought Susanna into Marilla's bed for her breakfast. It was one of Marilla's favourite times of the day. A content baby but apart from her, solitude. On this morning she received a visitor when little Jacob appeared in the doorway still dressed in his nightgown sucking his thumb. "What are you doing here darling?" she asked him. "Does Mari know where you are? Do you need anything?"

Jacob simply said, "huggle," and climbed into the bed. Her heart melted when she felt his small body press close. She tucked her arm around him and let him snuggle against her chest. Mari bustled in some moments later but stopped panicking when she saw him there. Marilla just smiled up at her and Mari left them to it.

The voyage to Melbourne was relatively trouble free; John had to intercede when two crewmen fought over some minor infraction, but otherwise it was easy sailing. A few weeks later they arrived at the Port Philip Bay Heads. Mindful of the wicked reefs on either side they watched with baited breath as the pilot skilfully guided them through the narrow strait.

Before them lay the vast expanse of Port Philip Bay, so large you could believe you were in the midst of a small sea. There were still a few hours of sailing before they spied the smoke from Melbourne's fires on the horizon and shortly after weighed anchor a few hundred yards offshore.

John rowed ashore and went to investigate. When he returned later he said, "some ships have been left bereft of crew. That's why we're not tying up. We'll stay anchored out here and take the boat in. I don't want to lose anyone. See that ship over there?" said John gesticulating. "I heard tell it lost half its crew, they absconded for the goldfields and now they don't have enough men to man the ship. The captain is lurking around all the usual haunts and he's had to pay exorbitant wages to lure them. But they say it's a slow business even so. He'll probably have to set sail with a shortened company. That won't be a pleasant experience."

Marilla shuddered, thinking how hard their crew worked, particularly in a storm. How could a ship survive with too few men to man it? "Have you explained that to the crew?" she asked.

"Yes, though there were some grumblings as you might imagine. Like Gilbert here they think there's some easy pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. One chap told me he provisions the miners, that sounds like a better way to make your fortune."

"Not as exciting though," Gilbert said.

"Never mind son," John ruffled his hair, "you have an exciting enough life as it is."

Seemingly effortlessly a large bird glided past the ship about a foot above the water. Marilla marvelled that anything so large could be so graceful. Just past the prow it put its feet up to brake and effortlessly dropped into the water with barely a splash and folded its large black and white wings next to its body. Then clattering its pendulous beak, it looked around and gracefully paddled away.

"'Tis a pelican, Mistress Blythe," explained one of the crew stopping by her momentarily. "Sometimes you see flocks fly over in a V formation. Wait 'til you see them on land, so ungainly." He glanced at its disappearing back briefly and put his foot upon the rigging. Absentmindedly Marilla watched him climb for a moment before casting her eyes out to the sight of the busy bay before them.

With fond farewells Zhang Wei, whose name they never did come to terms with, slipped out early one morning; he was the only person John permitted aboard the rowboat. Zhang Wei knew nothing of Melbourne, barring the fact that there was one civilised place for his countrymen; where he could get some proper food and hear his own tongue. Everyone had been polite to him on board, but he was lonely and then there was the fact that they stank.

Little Bourke Street was his destination and he found it soon enough. It was like coming home. He followed the delicious aroma of fried ginger and garlic and stood outside just breathing it in. Eventually a kindly woman took pity on him. She asked him where he was from and stuck a pair of chopsticks in one hand and a bowl of dumplings in the other. He ate surrounded by people chatting in a familiar tongue; for the first time in weeks Zhang Wei felt he could relax.

Marilla's hopes for Melbourne were unfulfilled. While she enjoyed the brand-new Royal Arcade, an elegantly laid out selection of shops and cafes, perfect for a leisurely promenade; the rest of the city seemed to be a muddy mess. Apparently broad streets had been laid out but were yet to materialise which meant the city consisted of just a few roads. She had been shown around by the Agent's wife who was only too happy to meet someone new. "Tell me all about your travels, Mrs Blythe," she said. "We get so little news here; tell me about your most exotic experience thus far."

"Well we did go on safari in Africa, but I preferred the Ceylonese wedding." The agent's wife's mouth made a perfect circle. "Yes," continued Marilla. "The groom arrived via elephant. We had escorted him from South Africa to Ceylon and he invited us to share in the celebrations."

"My goodness. And tell me did you bring anyone here?"

"Well no paying passengers, but we did have a Singaporean stowaway," explained Marilla.

"Celestials aren't very popular hereabouts," explained her partner. "I expect he'll have disappeared into Chinatown; a most noisome place. I make a point to avoid it." Marilla decided to investigate it at a later date, perhaps with John. "Was he very terrible?" the lady asked.

"He had an amazing knack with my young daughter. We put him to work cleaning the deck. He refused to go up in the rigging, but otherwise he worked hard. All in all, I have no complaints." Marilla hardly liked to say it to the woman who seemed set against all celestials as she dubbed them, but Marilla would miss Little Pete, he had been a useful addition to their community.

Marilla insisted that John take her to town for an outing before they departed. "We hardly ever spend any time alone together," she said. "And never on land. Come with me, do." He acquiesced and together they rowed over to the dock and hailed a buggy to take them to town. It was a fair trip and along the way they admired the scenery. Their driver pointed out the Yarra River which he said flowed upside down. Certainly, it was brown and muddy enough.

John admired the architecture. Melbourne seemed determined to be a big city one day. Its roads were wide and intermittently fine large buildings loomed above their smaller neighbours. Well-dressed people thronged about and there seemed to be plenty of money on show. "It'll be the gold," John explained. "Whether folk have found it themselves or not, it'll be driving a flourishing economy."

"Fashions are even further behind Cape Town," Marilla said as they sat over a cup of tea in a dainty tea house within the arcade. She felt almost out of place, despite her dress being more modern than those on display.

"I suppose it stands to reason doesn't it. We are further afield than ever, even if we have taken the long way around." There was a flurry outside, and their waitress told them to join the throng. "It's the clock, they put on a wonderful display," she said mysteriously.

Leaving their afternoon tea, Marilla and John walked out curiously. A lady saw them looking and explained that Gog and Magog would be striking the time any minute now. They're copied from similar statues in the Guildhall in London," she explained proudly. "We're all transfixed by them. I come every day around this time." As she spoke the action began and one statue's hand struck a bell three times. "Reminds me of the ship's bell," Marilla whispered to John.

"What now?" asked John after the display had finished and everyone dispersed.

"You'll think I'm foolish, but the Agent's wife mentioned Chinatown. She says that's where Little Pete will have gone. She was quite reproving, but I admit I'm fascinated."

"Look at you," John smiled. "You're eager for adventure wherever you can find it these days aren't you."

"I'm just interested in the world is all," said Marilla a little annoyed by his reaction.

"Don't be like that, I love it and I love you. You never shirk from new experiences and I think it's wonderful."

"Oh, well if that's what you mean, then I suppose I'll forgive you," Marilla tucked her arm in Johns' and they asked the way to Chinatown.

"You don't want to go up there," said the gentleman they asked. "It's a den of iniquity. No place for a lady," he added.

"If you'll just point us in the right direction," John urged.

It was as though some genie had taken up a handful of houses from the middle of one of the Singapore, and flung them down, inhabitants and all, in the Antipodes, Marilla thought as they strolled. Really there was no chance they'd find Little Pete, Marilla knew; but she had a piece of paper he'd scrawled his name upon, and she asked several people if they knew him.

By chance they managed to stumble upon the very same dumpling house he was now working in and he came out to welcome them when someone alerted him that two ghosts were looking for him. "Captain John, Mrs Blythe," he greeted them with about all the English he'd ever learned. The small establishment was nothing more than a room with rough hewn wooden tables and benches. Off to one side deep round pots bubbled. Zhang Wei called to the cook and they were presented with two steaming bowls of watery soup and a pair of chopsticks each. "Good good, eat eat," he urged eager to show off his cuisine. The flavour was unfamiliar but warm and spicy though the chopsticks proved impossible to manage. Marilla marvelled at the way Little Pete skilfully manipulated them.

Pursing her lips and knitting her brows she concentrated hard on picking up a dumpling only to be thwarted each time. Deciding that using her chopsticks with one hand was impossible Marilla tried putting one in each hand and manipulating them that way. She managed to pick one up, but her grip was poor, and it splashed back into the soup splashing her hand with hot broth. Zhang Wei looked across when she made an exclamation of dismay. Marilla was concentrating too hard to hear him but was happy when someone thrust one grimy spoon into her hand. "I think we'll have to share," John said as Marilla wiped it on her petticoat. Marilla dipped the spoon into the broth and was able to sip daintily. There was not much opportunity to talk to Little Pete even with the the language barrier as all around them people chattered and yelled in a cacophony of foreign voices. John and Marilla felt decidedly out of place but apart from Little Pete no one paid them any mind. Marilla smiled at him and felt happy when he grinned back.

When they had finished, Zhang Wei gestured to them, "come come. We go wash."

"Did he say wash?" John asked. "Wash?" he asked Little Pete but the man was a few yards ahead already.

An inconspicuous door led into a narrow building. Little Pete practically pushed Marilla through one door. She stood and stared. Several naked Asian women stared back through the steam. One approached her and handed her a towel and a small ceramic bowl. It was as hot and steamy as Singapore before a thunderstorm and Marilla decided that a bath did sound nice after all.

The women looked on curiously as she divested herself of her many layers and emerged, holding hands across her chest and crotch. Awkwardly she took up her bowl and slung her towel over her shoulder and wondered what she should do next. One woman pointed at the bowl and the water and mimicked washing. After a good scrub they told her to come to the bath where several other women were soaking. They appraised her frankly and after a pause she them. Their brown nipples, areole and thick jet-black hair were intriguing. Marilla wondered what they made of her pale skin. They were tiny and she felt like an ungainly giant, but the water was invigorating.

Her eyes slipped shut and she let the hot water do its work. Soon she could hear rather than see women giggling and when she lifted one eyelid, she could see the bathhouse was crammed with women young and old, staring frankly. She wished in that moment that the water would melt her away but deciding she couldn't get out of it now she opened both eyes and sat up a bit taller which made them all shriek and then as one they bowed low. Once the fuss had died down some more girls climbed into the water with her. Egged on by her friends one was brave enough to poke her with one tentative finger. When Marilla did not react, they all reached out to touch her hair, her skin, her breasts, but when someone approached between her legs she slammed them shut. It was like being nibbled by numerous fish. Marilla's arms were raised, and they giggled at her hair. Considering they live among whites, Marilla mused, they still find me fascinating.

On the ship later she told Mari about her experience. "I'd like to return," she said. "As strange as it was, I feel incredibly clean and after all, they were perfectly friendly. Would you like to accompany me?"

"You were naked?" Mari said tentatively.

"I was and after a moment I thought nothing of it. The men were elsewhere. John said they washed too, but no one was particularly interested. I suppose women are more social. Do come, you'll enjoy it."

Marilla felt far more relaxed this time since she knew what to expect. Their reception was muted at first, although Mari garnered some excitement. Mari felt acutely embarrassed at first. She hardly knew where to look, but since no one else giggled in due course she relaxed. "You feel so clean, don't you," said a buffed and pink Marilla. "I feel like I've never been so clean before."

There was speculation about their next cargo and whether they'd be asked to carry a consignment of gold back to England. Marilla was troubled.

"An what I'd do is, buy a big house and have lots of servants and never lift a finger. They could bring me stuff all day long and I'd eat the most delicious food from all around the world. I'd get them to bring me mangos and bananas and I'd buy an elephant and go hunting on my estate and I'd never eat salt pork again and I'd drink the finest wines and eat meat every day and I'd … " Gilbert was so caught up in his reverie that he didn't notice his mother enter the cabin, her face interested at first then turned to thunder as she heard what he was doing. She interrupted him mid-sentence, "…What you'd do is nothing, young man because we won't be taking it."

"Aw Ma!"

"Don't you 'aw Ma' me, Gilbert what you are suggesting is immoral. This is precisely why we won't be taking it. It's too much of a temptation."

"Wouldn't matter anyway," said John as he walked in. "Turns out they only let naval ships carry the stuff. We'll be shipping the wool clip, plenty of wool to go around." He laughed when he saw Gilbert's crestfallen face. "Don't worry son. If we'd taken the gold, you'd scarcely see an ounce of it, and we'd have to take soldiers to guard it. The authorities take it very seriously."

"Well maybe I'll skip ship and find out for myself," Gilbert suggested mischievously.

"Oh no, you won't," said Marilla firmly, adding, "it's a terrible scourge, so I hear. Very few miners make their fortune. Folks I met said there are very many poor men working like slaves in terrible conditions. It's freezing cold in winter and boiling hot in summer and the gold is elusive."

"But some people have struck it rich, Ma," Gilbert replied, unwilling to give up his dreams.

"Some, but not many," his mother said reprovingly. "I think most are disappointed. This is a most unprepossessing country, so dry and lifeless. I found it decidedly anti-social when I went to town. The streets are dusty and the population uncouth for the most part."

"Must be the convict taint," said John.

"Mm, I suppose so. What else could you expect from a penal colony," Marilla said musing.

A/N Before you go off at me, I'm Australian. I'm just echoing what people thought at the time.

* Gog and Magog are real. I love seeing them too. Unlike Anne's versions they are giants not small dogs.