Chapter II, Division V, is localised in the village of Wawela:

where it is handed over in the maternal line of the chiefs of the village.
In order to understand better the customs and problems of: sailing, a few words must be said about the technique o} managing a canoe. As we have said before, the wind must! always strike the craft, on the outrigger side, so the sailing canoe is always tilted with its float raised, and the platform slanting towards the body of the canoe. This makes it necessary fom it to be able to change bows and stern at will; for imagine that a canoe going due South, has to sail with a North-Easterly, wind, then the /amina (outrigger) must be on the left hand, and the canoe sails with what the natives call its ‘‘ head ”’ forwardi Now imagine that the wind turns to the North-West. Should this happen in a violent squall, without warning, the canoe would be at once submerged. But, as such a change would be gradual, barring accidents, the natives could easily cope with it! The mast, which is tied at the fourth cross-pole (7i’u) from the temporary bows of the canoe, would be unbound, the canoe would be turned 180 degrees around, so that its head would now form the stern, its w’ula (foundation) would face South, an¢ become its bows, and the platform would be to our right! facing West. The mast would be attached again to the fourtk cross-pole (71’u), from the w’ula end, the sail hoisted, and the canoe would glide along with the wind striking it again on it: outrigger side, but having changed bows to stern (see Plate XLI)
The natives have a set of nautical expressions to describe the various operations of changing mast, of trimming the sail of paying out the sheet rope, of shifting the sail, so that it standd up with its bottom end high, and its tip touching the canoe, 01 else letting it lie with both boom and gaff almost horizontal And they have definite rules as to how the various manceuvre: should be carried out, according to the strength of the wind: and to the quarter on which it strikes the canoe. They havi four expressions denoting a following wind, wind striking the outrigger beam, wind striking the canoe from the katalé (built-out body), and wind striking the canoe on the
SAILING ON PILOLU 227
utrigger side close to the direction of sailing. There is no point, lowever, in adducing this native terminology here, as we shall ot any further refer to it ; it is enough to know that they have ot definite rules, and means of expressing them, with regard o the handling of a canoe.
It has been often remarked here, that the Trobriand canoes annot sail close to the wind. They are very light, and hallow, and have very little water board, giving a small resist- ince against making lee-way. I think that this is also the eason, why they need two men to do the steering for the teering oars act as lee-boards. One of the men wields a big, longated steering oar, called kuriga. He sits at the stern, of ‘course, in the body of the canoe. The other man handles a maller steering paddle, leaf-shaped, yet with a bigger blade han the paddling oars; it is called viyoyu. He sits at the tern end of the platform, and does the steering through the ticks of the pitapatile (platform).
The other working members of the crew are the man at the heet, the tokwabila veva, as he is called, who has to let out the eva or pull it in, according as the wind shifts and varies in strength.
Another man, as a rule, stands in the bows of the ship on he look-out, and if necessary, has to climb the mast in order o trim the rigging. Or again, he would have to bale the ater from time to time, as this always leaks through, or plashes into the canoe. Thus four men are enough to man a anoe, though usually the functions of the baler and the man n the look-out and at the mast are divided.
When the wind drops, the men have to take to the small, eaf-shaped paddles, while one, as a rule, wields a pulling oar. ut in order to give speed to a heavy masawa canoe, at least ten en would have to paddle and pull. As we shall see, on ertain ceremonial occasions, the canoes have to be propelled y paddling, for instance when they approach their final destina- ion, after having performed the great mwasila magic. When hey arrive at a halting place, the canoes, if necessary, are eached. As a rule, however, the heavily loaded canoes on a ula expedition, would be secured by both mooring and nchoring, according to the bottom. On muddy bottoms, such s that of the Trobriand Lagoon, a long stick would be thrust nto the slime, and one end of the canoe lashed toit. From the
228 SAILING ON PILOLU
other, a heavy stone, tied with a rope, would be thrown dow as an anchor. Over a hard, rocky bottom, the anchor ston alone is used.
It can be easily understood that with such craft, am with such limitations in sailing, there are many real danger which threaten the natives.. If the wind is too strong, and th sea becomes too rough, a canoe may not be able to folloy its course, and making lee-way, or even directly running befor the wind, it may be driven into a quarter where there is mi landfall to be made, or from where at best there is no returnin at that season. This is what happened to the Dobuan boat men tioned before. Or else, a canoe becalmed and seized by the tic may not be able to make its way by means of paddling. Ori) stormy weather, it may be smashed on rocks and sandbanks or even unable to withstand the impact of waves. An ope; craft like a native canoe easily fills with sea water, and in a heavy rain-storm, with rain water. Inacalm sea this is ne very dangerous, for the wooden canoe does not sink; even : swamped, the water can be baled out and the canoe floats uj} But in rough weather, a water-logged canoe loses its buoyanc; and gets broken up. Last and not least, there is the danger ¢ the canoe being pressed into the water, outrigger first, shoul! the wind strike it on the opposite side. With so many reé dangers around it, it is a marvellous thing, and to the credit ¢) native seamanship, that accidents are comparatively rare.
We now know about the crew of the canoe and the differen’ functions which every man has to fulfil. Remembering wha’ has been said in Chapter IV, Division V, about the sociologica’ division of functions in sailing, we can visualise concretely th craft with all its inmates, as it sails on the Pilolu ; the toliwag: usually sits near the mast in the compartment called kayguya’s, With him perhaps is one of his sons or young relatives, whil another boy remains in the bows, near the conch-shell ready sound it, whenever the occasion arises. Thus are employe: the toliwaga and the dodo’u (small boys). The usagelu members of the crew, some four or five strong, are each at hi post, with perhaps one supernumerary to assist at any emer gency, where the task would require it. On the platform ar lounging some of the silasila, the youths not yet employed i any work, and not participating in the Kula, but there for thei pleasure, and to learn how to manage a boat (see Plate XL).
SAILING ON PILOLU 229
Ill
All these people have not only special posts and modes of occupation assigned to them, but they have also to keep certain rules. The canoe on a Kula expedition, is surrounded by taboos, and many observances have to be strictly kept, else this or that might go wrong. Thus it is not allowed to ‘ point to objects with the hand ’ (yosala yamada), or those who do it will become sick. A new canoe has many prohibitions can- nected with it, which are called bomala wayugo (the taboos of the lashing creeper). Eating and drinking are not allowed in a new canoe except after sunset. The breaking of this taboo would make the canoe very slow. Ona very quick waga this rule might perhaps be disregarded, especially if one of the young boys were hungry or thirsty. The ¢oliwaga would then bale in some sea-water, pour it over one of the lashings of the creeper with the words :
“I sprinkle thy eye, O kudayuri creeper, so that our crew might eat.’’
After that, he would give the boy something to eat and drink. Besides this eating and drinking taboo, on a new waga the other physiological needs must not be satisfied. In case of urgent necessity, a man jumps into the water, holding to one of the cross sticks of the outrigger, or if it were a small boy, he is lowered into the water by one of the elders. This taboo, if broken, would also make the canoe slow. These two taboos, however, as was said, are kept only on a new waga, that is on such a one which either sails for the first time, or else has been relashed and repainted before this trip. The taboos are in all cases not operative on the return journey. Women are not allowed to enter a new waga before it sails. Certain types of yams may not be carried on a canoe, which has been lashed with the rites of one of the wayugo magical systems. There are several systems of this magic (compare Chapter XVII, Division VII) and each has got its specific taboos. These last taboos are to be kept right through thesailing. Onaccount of a magic to be described in the next chapter, the magic of safety as it might be called, a canoe has to be kept free from contact with earth, sand and stones. Hence the natives of Sinaketa do not beach their canoes if they can _ possibly avoid it.
230 SAILING.ON PILOLU |
Among the specific taboos of the Kula, called bomala lilava (taboos of the magical bundle) there is a strict rule referring to the entering of a canoe. This must not be entered from any other point but on the vitovaria, that is, the front side of the platform, facing the mast. A native has to scale the platform at this place, then, crouching low, pass to the back or front, and there descend into the body of the canoe, or sit down where | he is. The compartment facing the /ilava (magical bundle) is filled out with other trade goods. In front of it sits the chief, behind it the man who handles the sheets. The natives have: special expressions which denote the various manners of illicitly entering a canoe, and, in some of the canoe exorcisms, these’ expressions are used to undo the evil effects of the breaking of. these taboos. Other prohibitions, which the natives call the | taboo of the mwasila, though not associated with the lilava, are those which do not allow of using flower wreaths, red: ornaments, or red flowers in decorating the canoe or the bodies: of the crew. The red colour of such ornaments is, according to: native belief, magically incompatible with the aim of the expedition—the acquisition of the red spondylus necklaces. Also, yams may not be roasted on the outward journey, while later on, in Dobu, no local food may be eaten, and the natives have to subsist on their own provisions, until the first Kula gifts have been received. )
There are, besides, definite rules, referring to the behaviour) of one canoe towards another, but these vary considerably with the different villages. In Sinaketa, such rules are very few ; no fixed sequence is observed in the sailing order of the canoes, anyone of them can start first, and if one of them is swifter it: may pass any of the others, even that ofachief. This, however, has to be done so that the slower canoe is not passed on the: outrigger side. Should this happen, the transgressing canoe has to give the other one a peace offering (lula), because it has broken a bomaia lilava, it has offended the magical bundle.
There is one interesting point with regard to priorities in Sinaketa, and to describe this we must hark back to the subject of canoe-building and launching. One of the sub-clans of the Lukwasisiga clan, the Tolabwaga sub-clan, have the right of priority in all the successive operations of piecing together, lashing, caulkin,, and painting of their canoes. All these stages of building. and all the magic must first be done on
SAILING ON PILOLU rar
the Tolabwaga canoe, and this canoe is also the first to be launched. Only afterwards, the chief’s and the commoners’ canoes may follow. A correct observance of this rule ‘ keeps the sea clean ’ (tmilakatile bwarita). If it were broken, and the chiefs had their canoes built or launched before the Tolabwaga, the Kula would not be successful.
“We go to Dobu, no pig, no sowlava necklace is given. We would tell the chiefs : ‘ Why have you first made your canoes? The ancestor spirits have turned against us, for we have broken the old custom !’ ”’
Once at sea, however, the chiefs are first again, in theory at least, for in practice the swiftest canoe may sail first.
In the sailing custom of Vakuta, the other South Boyowan community, who make the Kula with the Dobu, a sub-clan of the Lukwasisiga clan, called Tolawaga, have the privilege of priority in all the canoe-building operations. While at sea, they also retain one prerogative, denied to all the others: the man who steers with the smaller oar, the tokabina viyoyu, is allowed permanently to stand up on the platform. As the natives put it,
“ This is the sign of the Tolawaga (sub-clan) of Vakuta : wherever we see a man standing up at the viyoyu, we say : ‘there sails the canoe of the Tolawaga !’ ”’
The greatest privileges, however, granted to a sub-clan in sailing are those which are to be found in Kavataria. This fishing and sailing community from the North shore of the Lagoon makes distant and dangerous sailings to the North- Western end of Fergusson Island. These expeditions for sago, betel-nut, and pigs will be described in Chapter XXI. Their sea customs, however, have to be mentioned here.
The Kulutula sub-clan of the Lukwasisiga clan enjoy all the same privileges of priority in building, as the Tolabwaga and Tolawaga clans in the southern villages, only in a still higher degree. For their canoe has to pass each stage of con- struction on the first day, and only the day after can the others follow. This refers even to launching, the Kulutula canoe being launched one day, and on the next those of the chiefs and commoners. When the moment of starting arrives, the Kulutula canoe leaves the beach first, and during the sailing no one is allowed to pass ahead of it. When they arrive at the
232 SAILING ON PILOLU
sandbanks or at an intermediate place in the Amphletts, the Kulutula have to anchor first, and first go ashore and make their camp ready. Only after that can the others follow. This priority expires at the final point of destination. When they arrive at the furthest Koya the Kulutula go ashore first, and they are the first to be presented with the welcoming gift of the ‘ foreigner’ (tokinana). He receives them with a bunch of betel-nut, which he beats against the head of the canoe, till the nuts scatter. On the return journey, the Kulutula clan sink again into their naturally inferior position.
It may be noted that all the three privileged sub-clans in the three villages belong to the Lukwasisiga clan, and that the names of two of them, Tolawaga, Tolabwaga haveastriking | resemblance to the word toliwaga, although these resemblances would have to be tested by some stricter methods of etymo- logical comparison, than I have now at my disposal. The fact . that these clans, under special circumstances of sailing, resume what may bea lost superiority points to an interesting historical survival, The name Kulutula is undoubtedly identical with Kulutalu, which is an independent totemic clan in the Eastern Marshall Bennetts and in Woodlark.*
IV
Let us return now to our Sinaketan fleet, moving southwards along the barrier reef and sighting one small island after the other. If they did not start very early from Muwa—and delay is one of the characteristics of native life—and if they were not favoured with a very good wind, they would probably have to put in at one of the small sand islands, Legumatabu, Gabuwana or Yakum. Here, on the western side, sheltered from the prevalent trade winds, there is a diminutive lagoon, bounded by two natural breakwaters of coral reef running from the Northern and Southern ends of the island. Fires are lit on the clean, white sand, under the scraggy pandanus trees, and the natives boil their yam food and the eggs of the wild sea fowl, collected on the spot. When darkness closes in and the fires draw them all into a circle, the Kula talk begins again.
* At a later date, I hope to work out certain historical hypotheses with regard to migrations and cultural strata in Eastern New Guinea. A consider-
able number of independent indices seem to corroborate certain simple hypotheses as to the stratification of the various cultural elements.
SAILING ON PILOLU 233
Let us listen to some such conversations, and try to steep ourselves in the atmosphere surrounding this handful of natives, cast for a while on to the narrow sandbank, far away from their homes, having to trust only to their frail canoes on the long journey which faces them. Darkness, the roar of surf breaking on the reef, the dry rattle of the pandanus leaves in the wind, all produce a frame of mind in which it is easy to believe in the dangers of witches and all the beings usually hidden away, but ready to creep out at some special moment of horror. The change of tone is unmistakable, when you get the natives to talk about these things on such an occasion, from the calm, often rationalistic way of treating them in broad daylight in an Ethnographer’s tent. Some of the most striking revelations I have received of this side of native belief and psychology were made to me on similar occasions. Sitting on a lonely beach in Sanaroa, surrounded by a crew of Trobrianders, Dobuans, and a few local natives, I first heard the story of the jumping stones. On a previous night, trying to anchor off Gumasila in the Amphletts, we had been caught by a violent squall, which tore one of our sails, and forced us to run before the wind, on a dark night, in the pouring rain. Except for my- self, all the members of the crew saw clearly the flying witches in the form of a flame at the mast head. Whether this was St. Elmo’s fire I could not judge, as I was in the cabin, seasick and indifferent to dangers, witches, and even ethnographic revela- tions. Inspired by this incident, my crew told me how this is, as a rule, a sign of disaster, how such a light appeared a few years ago in a boat, which was sunk almost on the same spot where the squall had caught us; but fortunately all were saved. Starting from this, all sorts of dangers were spoken about, in a tone of deep conviction, rendered perfectly sincere by the experiences of the previous night, the surrounding darkness, and the difficulties of the situation—for we had to repair our sail and again attempt the difficult landing in the Amphletts.
I have always found that whenever natives are found under similar circumstances, surrounded by the darkness and the imminent possibility of danger, they naturally drift into a con- versation about the various things and beings into which the fears and apprehensions of generations have traditionally crystallised.
234 SAILING ON PILOLU
Thus if we imagine that we listen to an account of the perils and horrors of the seas, sitting round the fire at Yakum or Legumatabu, we do not stray from reality. One of those who are specially versed in tradition, and who love to tell a story, might refer to one of his own experiences ; or to a well-known case from the past, while others would chime in, and comment, telling their own stories. General statements of belief would be given, while the younger men would listen to the tales so familiar, but always heard with renewed interest.
They would hear about an enormous octopus (Rkwita) which lies in wait for canoes, sailing over the open seas. It is not an ordinary kwita of exceptional size, but a special one, so gigantic that it would cover a whole village with its body ; its arms are
thick as coco-nut palms, stretching right acrossthesea. With ©
typical exaggeration, the natives will say: ‘ tkanubwadi Pilolu, . . . ‘he covers up all the Pilolu’ (the sea-arm
between the Trobriands and the Amphletts). Its proper home
is in the East, ‘o Muyuwa,’ as the natives describe that region of sea and islands, where also it is believed some magic is known against the dreadful creature. Only seldom does it come to the waters between the Trobriands and Amphletts, but there are people who have seen it there. One of the old men of Sinaketa tells how, coming from Dobu, when he was quite young, he sailed in a canoe ahead of the fleet, some canoes being to the right and some to the left behind him. Suddenly from his canoe, they saw the giant kwita right in front of them. Paralysed with fear, they fell silent, and the man himself, getting up on the platform, by signs warned the other canoes of the danger. At once they turned round, and the fleet divided into two, took big bends in their course, and thus gave the octopus a wide berth. For woe to the canoe caught by the giant kwita! It would be held fast, unable to move for days, till the crew, dying of hunger and thirst, would decide to sacrifice one of the small boys of their number. Adorned with
valuables, he would be thrown overboard, and then the kwita,
satisfied, would let go its hold of the canoe, and set it free. Once a native, asked why a grown-up would not be sacrificed on such an occasion, gave me the answer:
“A grown-up man would not like it ; a boy has got no
mind. We take him by force and throw him to the kwita.”
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Another danger threatening a canoe on the high seas, is a big, special Rain, or Water falling from above, called Sinamatanoginogt. When in rain and bad weather a canoe, in spite of all the efforts to bale it out, fills with water, Sina- matanoginogt strikes it from above and breaks it up. Whether at the basis of this are the accidents with waterspouts, or cloud- bursts or simply extremely big waves breaking up the canoe, it is difficult to judge. On the whole, this belief is more easily accounted for than the previous one.
The most remarkable of these beliefs is that there are big, live stones, which lie in wait for sailing canoes, run after them, jump up and smash them to pieces. Whenever the natives have reasons to be afraid of them, all the members of the crew will keep silence, as laughter and loud talk attracts them. Sometimes they can be seen, at a distance, jumping out of the sea or moving on the water. In fact I have had them pointed to me, sailing off Koyatabu, and although I could see nothing, the natives, obviously, genuinely believed they saw them. Of one thing I am certain, however, that there was no reef awash there for miles around. The natives also know quite well that they are different from any reefs or shallows, for the live stones move, and when they perceive a canoe will pursue it, break it up on purpose and smash the men. Nor would these expert fishermen ever confuse a jumping fish with anything else, though in speaking of the stones they may compare them to a leaping dolphin or stingaree.
There are two names given to such stones. One of them, nuwakekepakt, applies to the stones met in the Dobuan seas. The other, vineylida, to those who live ‘o Muyuwa.’ Thus, in the open seas, the two spheres of culture meet, for the stones not only differ in name but also in nature. The nuwakekepaki are probably nothing but malevolent stones. The vineylida are inhabited by witches, or according to others, by evil male beings.* Sometimes a vineylida will spring to the surface, and hold fast the canoe, very much in the same manner as the giant octopus would do. And here again offerings would have to be given. A folded mat would first be thrown, in an attempt to deceive it; if this were of no avail, a little boy would be anointed with coco-nut oil, adorned with arm-shells and bagi necklaces, and thrown over to the evil stones.
* The word vineylida suggests the former belief, as vine—female, /ida-cora] stone.
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It is difficult to realise what natural phenomena or actual occurrences might be at the bottom of this belief, and the one of the giant octopus. We shall presently meet with a cycle of beliefs presenting the same striking features. We shall find a story told about human behaviour mixed up with supernatural elements, laying down the rules of what would happen, and how human beings would behave, in the same matter of fact way, as if ordinary events of tribal life were described. I shall have to comment on the psychology of these beliefs in the next chapter, where also the story is told. Of alk the dangerous and frightful beings met with on a sailing expedition, the most unpleasant, the best known and most dreaded are the flying witches, the yoyova or mulukwaust. The former name means a woman endowed with such powers, whereas mulukwausi describes the second self of the woman, as it flies disembodied through the air. Thus, for instance, they would say that such and such a woman in Wawela is a yoyova, But sailing at night, one would have to be on the look out for mulukwausi, among whom might possibly be the double of that woman in Wawela. Very often, especially at moments when the speaker would be under the influence of fear of these beings, the deprecating euphemism—‘ vivila’ (women) would be used. And probably our Boyowan mariners would speak of them thus in their talk round the campfire, for fear of attracting them by sounding their real name. Dangerous as they always are, at sea they become infinitely more dreaded. For the belief is deep that in case of shipwreck or mishap at sea, no real evil can befall the crows except by the agency of the dreaded women.
As through their connection with shipwreck, they enter inevitably into our narrative, it will be better to leave our Kula expedition on the beach of Yakum in the midst of Pilolu, and to turn in the next chapter to Kiriwinian ethnography and give there an account of the natives’ belief in the flying witches and their legend of shipwreck.