WHEN Kahohe found the smashed landing craft he did not at first realize its possibilities. He had stopped at Little Te-e to look for cowrie shells. He was not sure he would find cowries on Little Te-e. No one ever bothered with that barren little lump of island, but he had promised Toti, his sweetheart, some fine fish, and his luck had been terrible.

FOR a while after Gillis Purcell returned from the Army to his job as general superintendent of The Canadian Press in the spring of 1942, veteran CP men thought he'd gone soft. He didn’t fry them as often, or with his usual fire. They suspected the change was because of his lost log — the left one, which had been smashed by a falling canister on manœuvres in England and later amputated.