Chapter IV, Division V, about the sociological division of functions in

sailing, we can visualise concretely the craft with all its inmates, as it sails on the Pilolu; the toliwaga usually sits near the mast in the compartment called kayguya'u. With him perhaps is one of his sons or young relatives, while another boy remains in the bows, near the conch-shell ready to sound it, whenever the occasion arises. Thus are employed the toliwaga and the dodo'u (small boys). The usagelu or members of the crew, some four or five strong, are each at his post, with perhaps one supernumerary to assist at any emergency, where the task would require it. On the platform are lounging some of the silasila, the youths not yet employed in any work, and not participating in the Kula, but there for their pleasure, and to learn how to manage a boat (see Plate XL).

III

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 connected 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. On a very quick waga this rule might perhaps be disregarded, especially if one of the young boys were hungry or thirsty. The toliwaga 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 the sailing. On account 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.

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 lilava (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 of a chief. 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 bomala 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, caulking, and painting of their canoes. All these stages of building and all the magic must first be done on 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' (imilakatile 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 soulava 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 construction 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 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 have a striking resemblance to the word toliwaga, although these resemblances would have to be tested by some stricter methods of etymological comparison, than I have now at my disposal. The fact that these clans, under special circumstances of sailing, resume what may be a 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. [65]

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.

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 myself, 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 revelations. 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 conversation about the various things and beings into which the fears and apprehensions of generations have traditionally crystallised.

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 (kwita) 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 across the sea. With typical exaggeration, the natives will say: 'ikanubwadi 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."

Another danger threatening a canoe on the high seas, is a big, special Rain, or Water falling from above, called Sinamatanoginogi. When in rain and bad weather a canoe, in spite of all the efforts to bale it out, fills with water, Sinamatanoginogi 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, nuwakekepaki, 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. [66] 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.

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 all 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 mulukwausi. 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.