part in it. Side by side with this natural desire, however,

there exists the idea that all the members of the crews are under an obligation to go on the expedition. This duty they owe to the chief, or master of the uvalaku. The tolt’uvalaku, as he is called, is always one of the sectional chiefs or headmen. He plays the part of a master of ceremonies, on leaving the beach of Sinaketa, at the distributions of food, on arrival in the overseas villages, and on the ceremonial return home. A streamer of dried and bleached pandanus leaf, attached to the prows of his canoe on a stick, is the ostensible sign of the dignity. Such a streamer is called tarabauba’u in Kiriwinian, and doya in the Dobuan language. The headman, who is toli’uvalaku on an expedition, will as a rule receive more Kula gifts than the others. On him also will devolve the glory of this particular expedition. Thus the title of toli, in this case, is one of honorary and nominal ownership, resulting mainly in renown (butura) for its bearer, and as such highly valued by the natives.
From the economic and legal point of view, however, the obligation binding the members of the expedition to him is the - most important sociological feature. He gives the distribution of food, in which the others participate, and this imposes on them the duty of carrying out the expedition, however hard this might be, however often they would have to stop or even return owing to bad weather, contrary winds, or, in olden, days, inter- ference by hostile natives. As the natives say,
goz ‘df asnf | (o0z ‘d 99g) “punorsyoeq oy2 UL (SUTT[PAp UMO) oF27 sty ‘sasnoy-wIeA p23¥IODIEP STY JO UO JO JWOIZ Ul Surpuvys uses st af]
V.LAXNVNIS JO SHHIHD AH.L AO ANO ‘VAN.VLONOM
TIAXXX S1VTd
(‘Foz ‘d2ag) *(uontaed S[PPIUt) ogogas ay} 3% pro] ure oy) Surmoys “(syaTYydury 94) UT) IseFenN jO Yovaq 943 UO 20ULd maAbsoU Vy
. HONVO GHaVOT V
XIXXX SLVIg
HALT ON MUWA 209
“We cannot return on uvalaku, for we have eaten of the pig, and we have chewed of the betel-nut given by the toli’uvalaku.”’
Only after the most distant community with whom the Sinaketans kula has been reached, and after due time has been allowed for the collection of any vaygw’a within reach, will the party start on the return journey. Concrete cases are quoted in which expeditions had to start several times from Sinaketa, always returning within a few days after all the provisions had been eaten on Muwa, from where a contrary wind would not allow the canoes to move south. Or again, a memorable expedition, some few decades ago, started once or twice, was becalmed in Vakuta, had to give a heavy payment to a wind magician in the village of Okinai, to provide them with a propitious northerly wind, and then, sailing South at last, met with a vineylida, one of the dreadful perils of the sea, a live stone which jumps from the bottom of the sea at a canoe. But in spite of all this, they persevered, reached Dobu in safety, and made a successful return.
Thus we see that, from a sociological point of view, the uvalaku is an enterprise partially financed by the ¢oli’uvalaku, and therefore redounding to his credit, and bringing him honour ; while the obligation imposed on others by the food distributed to them, is to carry on the expedition to a successful end.
It is rather puzzling to find that, although everyone is eager for the expedition, although they all enjoy it equally and satisfy their ambition and increase their wealth by it, yet the element of compulsion and obligation is introduced into it ; for we are not accustomed to the idea of pleasure having to be forced on people. None the less, the uvalaku is not an isolated feature, for in almost all tribal enjoyments and festive enter- tainments on a big scale, the same principle obtains. The master of the festivities, by an initial distribution of food, imposes an obligation on the others, to carry through dancing, sports, or games of the season. And indeed, considering the ease with which native enthusiasms flag, with which jealousies, envies and quarrels creep in, and destroy the unanimity of social amusements, the need for compulsion from without to amuse oneself appears not so preposterous as at first sight.
I have said that an uvalaku expedition is distinguished
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from an ordinary one, in so far also as the full ceremonial of the Kula has to be observed. Thus all the canoes must be either new or relashed, and without exception they must be also re- painted and redecorated. The full ceremonial launching, tasa- sorta, and the presentation, kabigodoya, are carried out with every detail only when the Kula takes the form of an uvalaku. The pig or pigs killed in the village before departure are also a special feature of the competitive Kula. So is the kayguya’u ceremonial distribution held on Muwa, just at the point of the proceedings at which we have now arrived. The tanarere, a big display of vaygu’a and comparison of the individual acquisitions at the end of an expedition, is another ceremonial feature of the uvalaku and supplies some of the competitive element. There is also competition as to the speed, qualities and beauties of the canoes at the beginning of such an expe- dition. Some of the communities who present their vaygu’a to an uvalaku expedition vie with one another, as to who will give most, and in fact the element of emulation or competition runs right through the proceedings. In the following chapters, I shall have, in several more points, occasion to distinguish an uvalaku from an ordinary Kula sailing.
It must be added at once that, although all these ceremonial features are compulsory only on an wvalaku sailing, and although only then are they one and all of them unfailingly observed, some and even all may also be kept during an ordinary Kula expedition, especially if it happens to be a somewhat bigger one. The same refers to the various magical rites—that is to say the most important ones—which although performed on every Kula expedition, are carried out with more punctilio on an uvalaku..
Finally, a very important distinctive feature is the rule, that no vaygu’a can be carried on the outbound sailing of an uvalaku. It must not be forgotten that a Kula overseas expe- dition sails, in order mainly to receive gifts and not to give them, and on an uvalaku this rule is carried to its extreme, so that no Kula valuables whatever may be given by the visiting party. The natives sailing from Sinaketa to Dobu on ordinary Kula may carry a few armshells with them, but when they sail on a ceremonial competitive uvalaku, no armshell is ever taken. For it must be remembered that Kula exchanges, as has been explained in Chapter III, never take place simultaneously.
HALT ON MUWA 21I
It is always a gift followed after a lapse of time by a counter- gift. Now on a uvalaku the natives would receive in Dobu a certain amount of gifts, which, within a year or so, would be returned to the Dobuans, when these pay a visit to Sinaketa. But there is always a considerable amount of valuables which the Dobuans owe to the Sinaketans, so that when now the Sinaketans go to Dobu, they will claim also these gifts due to them from previous occasions. All these technicalities of Kula exchange will become clearer in one of the subsequent chapters (Chapter XIV).
To sum up, the uvalaku is a ceremonial and competitive expedition. Ceremonial it is, in so far as it is connected with the special initial distribution of food, given by the master of the uvalaku. It is also ceremonial in that all the formalities of the Kula are kept rigorously and without exception, for in a sense every Kula sailing expedition is ceremonial. Competitive it is mainly in that at the end of it all the acquired articles are compared and counted. With this also the prohibition to carry vaygu’a, is connected, so as to give everyone an even start.
Il
Returning now to the Sinaketan fleet assembled at Muwa, as soon as they have arrived there, that is, some time about noon, they proceed to the ceremonial distribution. Although the toli’uvalaku is master of ceremonies, in this case he as a rule sits and watches the initial proceedings from a distance. A group of his relatives or friends of lesser rank busy them- selves with the work. It might be better perhaps here to give a more concrete account, since it is always difficult to visualise exactly how such things will proceed.
This was brought home to me when in March, 1918, I assisted at these initial stages of the Kula in the Amphlett Islands. The natives had been preparing for days for departure, and on the final date, I spent the whole morning observing and photographing the loading and trimming of the canoes, the farewells, and the setting out of the fleet. In the evening, after a busy day, as it was a full-moon night, I went for a long pull in a dinghey. Although in the Trobriands I had had accounts of the custom of the first halt, yet it gave me a sur- prise when on rounding a rocky point I came upon the whole
212 HALT ON MUWA
crowd of Gumasila natives, who had departed on the Kula that morning, sitting in full-moon light on a beach, only a few miles from the village which they had left with so much to-do some ten hours before. With the fairly strong wind that day, I was thinking of them as camping at least half way to the Trobriands, on one of the small sand banks some twenty miles North. I went and sat for a moment among the morose and unfriendly Amphlett Islanders, who, unlike the Trobrianders, distinctly resented the inquisitive and blighting presence of an Ethno- grapher,
To return to our Sinaketan party, we can imagine the chiefs sitting high up on the shore under the gnarled, broad-leafed branches of the shady trees. They might perhaps be resting in one group, each with a few attendants, or else every headman and chief near his own canoe, To’udawada silently chewing betel-nut, with a heavy and bovine dignity, the excitable Koutauya chattering in a high pitched voice with some of his grown-up sons, among whom there are two or three of the finest men in Sinaketa. Further on, with a smaller group of attendants, sits the infamous Sinakadi, in conference with his successor to chieftainship, his sister’s son, Gomaya, also a notorious scoundrel. On such occasions it is good form for chiefs not to busy themselves among the groups, nor to survey the proceedings, but to keep an aloof and detached attitude. In company with other notables, they discuss in the short, jerky sentences which make native. languages so difficult to follow, the arrangements and prospects of the Kula, making now and then a mythological reference, forecasting the weather, and discussing the merits of the canoes.
In the meantime, the henchmen of the toli’uvalaku, his sons, his younger brothers, his relatives-in-law, prepare the distribution. Asa rule, either To’udawada or Koutauya would be the foli’uvalaku. The one who at the given time has more wealth on hand and prospects of receiving more vaygu’a, would take over the dignity and the burdens. Sinakadi is much less wealthy, and probably it would be an exception for him and his predecessors and successors to play the part. The minor headmen of the other compound villages of Sinaketa would never fill the rdle.
Whoever is the master of the expedition for the time being will have brought over a couple of pigs, which will now be laid
HALT ON MUWA 213
on the beach and admired by the members of the expedition. Soon some fires are lit, and the pigs, with a long pole thrust through their tied feet, are hung upside down over the fires. A dreadful squealing fills the air and delights the hearers. After the pig has been singed to death, or rather, into insensibility, it is taken off and cut open. Specialists cut it into appropriate parts, ready for the distribution. Yams, taro, coco-nuts and sugar cane have already been put into big heaps, as many as there are canoes—that is, nowadays, eight. On these heaps, some hands of ripe bananas and some betel-nut bunches are placed. On the ground, beside them, on trays of plaited coco-nut leaves, the lumps of meat are displayed. All this food has been provided by the ¢olt’uvalaku, who previously has received as contributions towards it special presents, both from his own and from his wife’s kinsmen. In fact, if we try to draw out all the strands of gifts and contributions connected with such a distribution we would find that it is spun round into such an intricate web, that even the lengthy account of the foregoing chapter does not quite do it justice.
After the chief’s helpers have arranged the heaps, they go over them, seeing that the apportionment is correct, shifting some of the food here and there, and memorising to whom each heap will be given. Often in the final round, the tol1’uvalaku inspects the heaps himself, and then returns to his former seat. Then comes the culminating act of the distribution. One of the chief's henchmen, always a man of inferior rank, accom- panied by the chief’s helpers, walks down the row of heaps, and at each of them screams out in a very loud voice :
“OQ, Siyagana, thy heap, there, O Siyagana, O!” At the next one he calls the name of another canoe: ‘‘O Gumawora, thy heap, there! O Gumawora O!”
He goes thus over all the heaps, allotting each one to a canoe. After that is finished, some of the younger boys of each canoe go and fetch their heap. This is brought to their fire, the meat is roasted, and the yams, the sugar cane and betel-nut distributed among the crew, who presently sit down and eat, each group by itself. We see that, although the tol1’uvalaku is responsible for the feast, and receives from the natives all the credit for it, his active part in the proceedings is a small one, and it is more nominal than real. On such occasions it would
214 HALT ON MUWA
perhaps be incorrect to call him ‘ master of ceremonies,’ although he assumes this rédle, as we shall see, on other occasions, Nevertheless, for the natives, he is the centre of the proceedings. His people do all the work there is to be done, and in certain cases he would be referred to for a decision, on some question of etiquette. |
After the meal is over, the natives rest, chew betel-nut and smoke, looking across the water towards the setting sun | —it is now probably late in the afternoon—towards where, above the moored canoes, which rock and splash in the shallows, | there float the faint silhouettes of the mountains. These are the: distant Koya, the high hills in the d’Entrecasteaux and Amphletts, to which the elder natives have often already sailed, and of which the younger have heard so many times in| myth, tales and magical spells. Kula conversations will) predominate on such occasions, and names of distant partners, | and personal names of specially valuable vaygu’a will punctuate the conversation and make it very obscure to those not initiated | into the technicalities and historical traditions of the Kula. | Recollections how a certain big spondylus necklace passed a couple of years ago through Sinaketa, how So-and-so handed it to So-and-so in Kiriwina, who again gave it to one of his partners in Kitava (all the personal names of course being: mentioned) and how it went from there to Woodlark Island, where its traces become lost—such reminiscences lead to conjectures as to where the necklace might now be, and whether there is a chance of meeting itin Dobu. Famous exchanges are| cited, quarrels over Kula grievances, cases in which a man was| killed by magic for his too successful dealings in the Kula, are told one after the other, and listened to with never failing! interest. The younger men amuse themselves perhaps with less serious discussions about the dangers awaiting them; on the sea, about the fierceness of the witches and dread-| ful beings in the Koya, while many a young Trobriander would be warned at this stage of the unaccommodating attitude of the women in Dobu, and of the fierceness of! their men folk.
After nightfall a number of small fires are lit on the beach. The stiff pandanus mats, folded in the middle, are put over each sleeper so as to form a small roof, and the whole crowd | settle down for the night.
‘ |
HALT ON MUWA 215 III
Next morning, if there is a fair wind, or a hope of it, the natives are up very early, and all are feverishly active. Some fix up the masts and rigging of the canoes, doing it much more thoroughly and carefully than it was done on the previous morning, since there may be a whole day’s sailing ahead of them perhaps with a strong wind, and under dangerous conditions. After all is done, the sails ready to be hoisted, the various ropes put into good trim, all the members of the crew sit at their posts, and each canoe waits some few yards from the beach for its toliwaga (master of the canoe). He remains on shore, in order to perform one of the several magical rites which, at this stage of sailing, break through the purely matter-of-fact events. All these rites of magic are directed towards the canoes, making them speedy, seaworthy and safe. In the first rite, some leaves are medicated by the toliwaga as he squats over them on the beach and recites a formula. The wording of this indicates that it is a speed magic, and this is also the explicit statement of the natives.
KADUMIYALA SPELL.
In this spell, the flying fish and the jumping gar fish are invoked at the beginning. Then the ¢oliwaga urges his canoe to fly at its bows and at its stern. Then, in a long tapwana, he repeats a word signifying the magical impart- ing of speed, and with the names of the various parts of the canoe. The last part runs: ‘‘ The canoe flies, the canoe flies in the morning, the canoe flies at sunrise, the canoe flies like a flying witch,”’ ending up with the onomatopoetic words “‘ Saydidi, tatata, numsa,’ which represent the flapping of pandanus streamers in the wind, or as others say, the noises made by the flying witches, as they move through the air on a stormy night.
After having uttered this spell into the leaves, the toliwaga gives them to one of the usagelu (members of the crew), who, wading round the waga, rubs with them first the dobwana, “head ’ of the canoe, then the middle of its body, and finally its u’ula (basis). Proceeding round on the side of the outrigger, he rubs the ‘ head’ again. It may be remembered here that, with the native canoes, fore and aft in the sailing sense are interchangeable, since the canoe must sail having always the
216 HALT ON MUWA
wind on its outrigger side, and it often has to change stern to bows. But standing on a canoe so that the outrigger is on the left hand, and the body of the canoe on the right, a native will call the end of the canoe in front of him its head (dabwana), and that behind, its basis (w’wla).
After this is over, the ¢oliwaga enters the canoe, the sail is hoisted, and the canoe rushes ahead. Now two or three pandanus streamers which had previously been medicated in the village by the toliwaga are tied to the rigging, and to the mast. The following is the spell which had been said over them :
BISILA SPELL.
“ Bora’i, Bora’i (2 mythical name). Bora’i flies, it will fly; Bora’i Bora’i, Bora’i stands up, it will stand up. In company with Bora’i—stdtdidt. Break through your passage in Kadimwatu, pierce through thy Promontory of Salamwa. Go and attach your pandanus streamer in Salamwa, go and ascend the slope of Loma.”
“ Lift up the body of my canoe ; its body is like floating
gossamer, its body is like dry banana leaf, its body is like fluff.”
There is a definite association in the minds of the natives between the pandanus streamers, with which they usually decorate mast, rigging and sail, and the speed of the canoe. The decorative effect of the floating strips of pale, glittering, yellow is indeed wonderful, when the speed of the canoe makes them flutter in the wind. Like small banners of some stiff, golden fabric they envelope the sail and rigging with light, colour and movement.
The pandanus streamers, and especially their trembling, are a definite characteristic of Trobriand culture (see Plate X XIX). In some of their dances, the natives use long, bleached ribbons of pandanus, which the men hold in both hands, and set a-flutter while they dance. Todo this well is one of the main achievements of a brilliant artist. On many festive occasions the bisila (pandanus streamers) are tied to houses on poles for decoration. They are thrust into armlets and belt$ as per- sonal ornaments. The vaygu’a (valuables) when prepared for the Kula, are decorated with strips of bistla. In the Kula a chief will send to some distant partner a bisila streamer over which a special spell has been recited, and this will make the
HALT ON MUWA 217
partner eager to bestow valuables on the sender. As we saw, a broad bisila streamer is attached to the canoe ofa tols’uvalaku as his badge of honour. The flying witches (mulukwaust) are supposed to use pandanus streamers in order to acquire speed and levitation in their nightly flights through the air.
After the magical pandanus strips have been tied to the rigging, beside the non-magical, purely ornamental ones, the toliwaga sits at the veva rope, the sheet by which the sail is extended to the wind, and moving it to and fro he recites a spell.
KAYIKUNA VEVA SPELL.
Two verbs signifying magical influence are repeated with the prefix bo—which implies the conception of ‘ritual’ or ‘sacred’ or ‘being tabooed.’* Then the toliwaga says: ‘I shall treat my canoe magically in its middle part, I shall treat it in its body. I shall take my butia (flower wreath), of the sweet-scented flowers. I shall put it on the head of my canoe.”
Then a lengthy middle strophe is recited, in which all the parts of a canoe are named with two verbs one after the other. The verbs are: ‘“‘ To wreathe the canoe in a ritual manner,” and “ to paint it red in a ritual manner.” The prefix bo-, added to the verbs, has been here translated, “in a ritual manner.’’*
The spell ends by a conclusion similar to that of many other canoe formule, ‘“‘ My canoe, thou art like a whirl- wind, like a vanishing shadow! Disappear in the distance, become like mist, avaunt ! ”’
These are the three usual rites for the sake of speed at the beginning of the journey. If the canoe remains slow, however, an auxiliary rite is performed ; a piece of dried banana leaf is put between the gunwale and one of the inner frame sticks of the canoe, and a spell is recited over it. After that, they beat both ends of the canoe with this banana leaf. If the canoe is
* The prefix bo—has three different etymological derivations, each carry- ing its own shade of meaning. First, it may be the first part of the word bomala, in which case, its meaning will be “ritual” or ‘‘sacred.”” Secondly, it may be derived from the word bu’a, areca-nut, asubstance very often used and mentioned in magic, both because it is a narcotic, and a beautiful, vermilion dye. Thirdly, the prefix may be a derivation from butia, the sweet scented flower made into wreaths, in which case it would usually be bway, but sometimes Might become bo-, and would carry the meaning of ‘‘ festive,’’ ‘‘ decorated.” To a native, who does not look upon a spell as an ethnological document, but
_ as an instrument of magical power, the prefix probably conveys all three mean- ings at once, and the word “ ritual”’ covers best all these three meanings.
218 HALT ON MUWA
still heavy, and lags behind the others, a piece of kuleya (cooked and stale yam) is put on a mat, and the toliwaga medicates it with a spell which transfers the heaviness to the yam. The spell here recited is the same one which we met when the heavy log was being pulled into the village. The log was then beaten with a bunch of grass, accompanied by the recital of the spell, and then this bunch was thrown away.* In this case the piece of yam which has taken on the heaviness of the canoe is thrown overboard. Sometimes, however, even this is of no avail. The toliwaga then seats himself on the platform next to the steersman, and utters a spell over a piece of coco-nut husk, which is thrown into the water. This rite, called Bisiboda patile is a piece of evil-magic (bulubwalata), intended to keep all the other canoes back. If that does not help, the natives
conclude that some taboos pertaining to the canoe might have.
been broken, and perhaps the toliwaga may feel some misgivings regarding the conduct of his wife or wives.
* See Division II of Chapter V.
i