Chapter XVII
. Here it must suffice to say that they belong to several different systems of ideas. The one based on the myth of the flying canoe refers directly to the canoe; it aims at imparting a general excellence, and more especially the quality of speed to the canoe. The rites of the other type are really exorcisms directed against evil bewitchment (bulubwalata) of which the natives are much afraid. The third system of magic (performed during canoe construction) is the Kula magic, based on its own mythological cycle, and although performed on the canoe, yet aiming at the imparting of success to the toliwaga in his Kula transactions. Finally, at the beginnings of the proceedings there is some magic addressed to the tokway, the malignant wood-sprite.
The construction of the canoe is done in two main stages, differing from one another in the character of the work, in the accompanying magic, and in the general sociological setting. In the first stage, the component parts of the canoe are prepared. A big tree is cut, trimmed into a log, then hollowed out and made into the basic dug-out; the planks, boards, poles, and sticks are prepared. This is achieved by slow, leisurely work, and it is done by the canoe-builder with the assistance of a few helpers, usually his relatives or friends or else those of the toliwaga. This stage generally takes a long time, some two to six months, and is done in fits and starts, as other occupations allow, or the mood comes. The spells and rites which accompany it belong to the tokway magic, and to that of the flying canoe cycle. To this first stage also belongs the carving of the decorative prow-boards. This is done sometimes by the builder, sometimes by another expert, if the builder cannot carve.
The second stage is done by means of intense communal labour. As a rule this stage is spread over a short time, only perhaps a week or two--including the pauses between work. The actual labour, in which the whole community is energetically engaged, takes up only some three to five days. The work consists of the piecing together of the planks and prow-boards, and, in case these do not fit well, of trimming them appropriately, and then of the lashing them together. Next comes the piecing and lashing of the outrigger, caulking and painting of the canoe. Sail-making is also done at this time, and belongs to this stage. As a rule, the main body of the canoe is constructed at one sitting, lasting about a day; that is, the prow-boards are put in, the ribs and planks fitted together, trimmed and lashed. Another day is devoted to the attaching of the float and binding of the outrigger frame and the platform. Caulking and painting are done at another sitting, or perhaps at two more, while the sail is made on yet another day. These times are only approximate, since the size of the canoe, as well as the number of people participating in communal labour, greatly varies. The second stage of canoe-building is accompanied by Kula magic, and by a series of exorcisms on the canoe, and the magic is performed by the owner of the canoe, and not by the builder or expert. This latter, however, directs the technicalities of the proceedings, in which he is assisted and advised by builders from other villages; by sailing experts, and by the toliwaga and other notables. The lashing of the canoe with a specially strong creeper, called wayugo, is accompanied by perhaps the most important of the rites and spells belonging to the flying canoe magic.
II
After the decision to build a waga has been taken, a tree suitable for the main log has to be chosen. This, in the Trobriands, is not a very easy task. As the whole plain is taken up by garden land, only the small patches of fertile soil in the coral ridge which runs all round the island, remain covered with jungle. There the tree must be found, there felled, and thence transported to the village.
Once the tree is chosen, the toliwaga, the builder and a few helpers repair to the spot, and a preliminary rite must be performed, before they begin to cut it down. A small incision is made into the trunk, so that a particle of food, or a bit of areca-nut can be put into it. Giving this as an offering to the tokway (wood-sprite), the magician utters an incantation:--
VABUSI TOKWAY SPELL.
"Come down, O wood-sprites, O Tokway, dwellers in branches, come down! Come down, dwellers in branch forks, in branch shoots! Come down, come, eat! Go to your coral outcrop over there; crowd there, swarm there, be noisy there, scream there!
"Step down from our tree, old men! This is a canoe ill spoken of; this is a canoe out of which you have been shamed; this is a canoe out of which you have been expelled! At sunrise and morning, you help us in felling the canoe; this our tree, old men, let it go and fall down!"
This spell, given in free translation, which, however, follows the original very closely, word for word, is far clearer than the average sample of Trobriand magic. In the first part, the tokway is invoked under various names, and invited to leave his abode, and to move to some other place, and there to be at his ease. In the second part, the canoe is mentioned with several epithets, all of which denote an act of discourtesy or ill-omen. This is obviously done to compel the tokway to leave the tree. In Boyowa, the yoba, the chasing away, is under circumstances a great insult, and at times it commands immediate compliance. This is always the case when the chaser belongs to the local sub-clan of a village, and the person expelled does not. But the yoba is always an act of considerable consequence, never used lightly, and in this spell, it carries these sociological associations with it. In the usual anticipatory way, characteristic of native speech, the tree is called in the spell "canoe" (waga).
The object of this spell is written very plainly in every word of it, and the natives also confirm it by saying that it is absolutely necessary to get rid of the tokway. What would happen, however, if the tokway were not expelled, is not so unequivocally laid down by tradition, and it cannot be read out of the spell or the rite. Some informants say that the canoe would be heavy; others that the wood would be full of knots, and that there would be holes in the canoe, or that it would quickly rot.
But though the rationale of the expulsion is not so well defined, the belief in the tokway's evil influence, and in the dangers associated with his presence is positive. And this is in keeping with the general nature of the tokway, as we find him delineated by native belief. The tokway is on the whole a harmful being, though the harm he does is seldom more than an unpleasant trick, perhaps a sudden fright, an attack of shooting pains, or a theft. The tokway live in trees or in coral rocks and boulders, usually in the raybwag, the primeval jungle, growing on the coastal ridge, full of outcrops and rocks. Some people have seen a tokway, although he is invisible at will. His skin is brown, like that of any Boyowan, but he has long, sleek hair, and a long beard. He comes often at night, and frightens people. But, though seldom seen, the tokway's wailing is often heard from the branches of a big tree, and some trees evidently harbour more tokways than others, since you can hear them very easily there. Sometimes, over such trees, where people often hear the tokway and get a fright, the above quoted incantation and rite are performed.
In their contact with men, the tokway show their unpleasant side; often they come at night and steal food. Many cases can be quoted when a man, as it seemed, was surprised in the act of stealing yams out of a storehouse, but lo! when approached he disappeared--it was a tokway. Then, sickness in some of its lighter forms is caused by the tokway. Shooting pains, pricking and stabbing in one's inside, are often due to him, for he is in possession of magic by which he can insert small, sharp-edged and sharp-pointed objects into the body. Fortunately some men know magic by which to extract such objects. These men, of course, according to the general rule of sorcery, can also inflict the same ailments. In olden days, the tokway gave both the harmful and beneficent magic to some men, and ever since, this form of sorcery and of concomitant healing have been handed on from one generation to another.
Let us return to our canoe, however. After the rite has been performed, the tree is felled. In olden days, when stone implements were used, this must have been a laborious process, in which a number of men were engaged in wielding the axe, and others in re-sharpening the blunted or broken blades. The old technique was more like nibbling away the wood in small chips, and it must have taken a long time to cut out a sufficiently deep incision to fell the tree. After the tree is on the ground, the preliminary trimming is done on the spot. The branches are lopped off, and the log of appropriate length is made out of the tree. This log is cut into the rough shape of a canoe, so as to make it as light as possible, for now it has to be pulled to the village or to the beach.
The transporting of the log is not an easy task, as it has to be taken out of the uneven, rocky raybwag, and then pulled along very bad roads. Pieces of wood are put on the ground every few metres, to serve as slips on which the log can more easily glide than on the rocks and uneven soil. In spite of that, and in spite of the fact that many men are summoned to assist, the work of pulling the log is very heavy. The men receive food in payment for it. Pig flesh is cooked and distributed with baked yams; at intervals during the work they refresh themselves with green coco-nut drinks and with sucking sugar cane. Gifts of such food, given during work in payment of communal labour, are called puwaya. To describe how heavy the work sometimes is, the native will say, in a characteristically figurative manner:
"The pig, the coco drinks, the yams are finished, and yet we pull--very heavy!"
In such cases the natives resort to a magical rite which makes the canoe lighter. A piece of dry banana leaf is put on top of the log. The owner or builder beats the log with a bunch of dry lalang grass and utters the following spell:
KAYMOMWA'U SPELL.
"Come down, come down, defilement by contact with excrement! Come down, defilement by contact with refuse! Come down, heaviness! Come down, rot! Come down fungus! ..." and soon, invoking a number of deteriorations to leave the log, and then a number of defilements and broken taboos. In other words, the heaviness and slowness, due to all these magical causes, are thrown out of the log.
This bunch of grass is then ritually thrown away. It is called momwa'u, or the "heavy bunch." Another handful of the long lalang grass, seared and dry, is taken, and this is the gagabile, the "light bunch," and with this the canoe is again beaten. The meaning of the rite is quite plain: the first bunch takes into it the heaviness of the log, and the second imparts lightness to it. Both spells also express this meaning in plain terms. The second spell, recited with the gagabile bunch, runs thus:
KAYGAGABILE SPELL.
"He fails to outrun me" (repeated many times). "The canoe trembles with speed" (many times). A few untranslatable words are uttered; then a long chain of ancestral names is invoked. "I lash you, O tree; the tree flies; the tree becomes like a breath of wind; the tree becomes like a butterfly; the tree becomes like a cotton seed fluff. One sun" (i.e., time) "for my companions, midday sun, setting sun; another sun for me----" (here the reciter's name is uttered)--"the rising sun, the rays of the (rising) sun, (the time of) opening the huts, (the time of the) rising of the morning star!" The last part means: "My companions arrive at sunset, while I arrive with the rising sun"--(indicating how far my canoe exceeds them in speed.) [47]
These formulæ are used both to make the log lighter for the present purpose of pulling it into the village, and in order to give it greater speed in general, when it is made up into a waga.
After the log has been finally brought into the village, and left on the baku, the main central place, the creeper by means of which it has been pulled and which is called in this connection duku, is not cut away at once. This is done ceremonially on the morning of the following day, sometimes after even two or three days have passed. The men of the community assemble, and the one who will scoop out the canoe, the builder (tota'ila waga, "the cutter of the canoe") performs a magical rite. He takes his adze (ligogu) and wraps some very light and thin herbs round the blade with a piece of dried banana leaf, itself associated with the idea of lightness. This he wraps only half round, so that a broad opening is left, and the breath and voice have free access to the herbs and blade of the adze. Into this opening, the magician chants the following long spell:
KAPITUNENA DUKU SPELL.
"I shall wave them back, (i.e., prevent all other canoes from overtaking me)!" repeated many times. "On the top of Si'a Hill; women of Tokuna; my mother a sorceress, myself a sorcerer. It dashes forward, it flies ahead. The canoe body is light; the pandanus streamers are aflutter; the prow skims the waves; the ornamental boards leap, like dolphins; the tabuyo (small prow-board) breaks the waves; the lagim' (transversal prow-board) breaks the waves. Thou sleepest in the mountain, thou sleepest in Kuyawa Island. We shall kindle a small fire of lalang grass, we shall burn aromatic herbs (i.e., at our destination in the mountains)! Whether new or old, thou goest ahead."
This is the exordium of the formula. Then comes a very long middle part, in a form very characteristic of Trobriand magic. This form resembles a litany, in so far as a key word or expression is repeated many times with a series of complementary words and expressions. Then the first key word is replaced by another, which in its turn, is repeated with the same series of expressions; then comes another key word, and so on. We have thus two series of words; each term of the first is repeated over and over again, with all terms of the second, and in this manner, with a limited number of words, a spell is very much lengthened out, since its length is the product of the length of both series. In shorter spells, there may be only one key word, and in fact, this is the more usual type. In this spell, the first series consists of nouns denoting different parts of the canoe; the second are verbs, such as: to cut, to fly, to speed, to cleave a fleet of other canoes, to disappear, to skim over the waves. Thus the litany runs in such a fashion: "The tip of my canoe starts, the tip of my canoe flies, the tip of my canoe speeds, etc., etc." After the long litany has been chanted, the magician repeats the exordium, and finishes it off with the conventional onomatopoetic word saydididi--which is meant to imitate the flying of the witches.
After the recital of this long spell over the herbs and blade of his adze, the magician wraps up the dry banana leaf, thus imprisoning the magical virtue of the spell round the blade, and with this, he strikes and cuts through the duku (the creeper used for the pulling of the canoes.)
With this, the magic is not over yet, for on the same evening, when the canoe is put on transversal logs (nigakulu), another rite has to be carried out. Some herbs are placed on the transversals between them and the body of the big canoe log. Over these herbs, again, another spell has to be uttered. In order not to overload this account with magical texts, I shall not adduce this spell in detail. Its wording also plainly indicates that it is speed magic, and it is a short formula running on directly, without cross-repetitions.
After that, for some days, the outside of the canoe body is worked. Its two ends must be cut into tapering shape, and the bottom evened and smoothed. After that is done, the canoe has to be turned over, this time into its natural position, bottom down, and what is to be the opening, upwards. Before the scooping out begins, another formula has to be recited over the kavilali, a special ligogu (adze), used for scooping out, which is inserted into a handle with a moveable part, which then allows the cutting to be done at varying angles to the plane of striking.
The rite stands in close connection to the myth of the flying canoe, localised in Kudayuri, a place in the Island of Kitava, and many allusions are made to this myth. [48] After a short exordium, containing untranslatable magical words, and geographical references, the spell runs:
LIGOGU SPELL.
"I shall take hold of an adze, I shall strike! I shall enter my canoe, I shall make thee fly, O canoe, I shall make thee jump! We shall fly like butterflies, like wind; we shall disappear in mist, we shall vanish. You will pierce the straits of Kadimwatu (between the islands of Tewara and Uwama) you will break the promontory of Saramwa (near Dobu), pierce the passage of Loma (in Dawson Straits), die away in the distance, die away with the wind, fade away with the mist, vanish away. Break through your seaweeds (i.e., on coming against the shore). Put on your wreath (probably an allusion to the seaweeds), make your bed in the sand. I turn round, I see the Vakuta men, the Kitava men behind me; my sea, the sea of Pilolu (i.e., the sea between the Trobriands and the Amphletts); to-day the Kudayuri men will burn their fires (i.e., on the shores of Dobu). Bind your grass skirt together, O canoe" (here the personal name of the canoe is mentioned), "fly!" The last phrase contains an implicit hint that the canoe partakes of the nature of a flying witch, as it should, according to the Kudayuri myth.
After this, the canoe-builder proceeds to scoop out the log. This is a long task, and a heavy one, and one which requires a good deal of skill, especially towards the end, when the walls of the dug-out have to be made sufficiently thin, and when the wood has to be taken off evenly over the whole surface. Thus, although at the beginning the canoe carpenter is usually helped by a few men--his sons or brothers or nephews who in assisting him also learn the trade--towards the end he has to do the work single-handed. It, therefore, always happens that this stage takes a very long time. Often the canoe will lie for weeks, untouched, covered with palm leaves against the sun, and filled with some water to prevent drying and cracking (see Plate XXV). Then the carpenter will set to work for a few days, and pause again. In almost all villages, the canoe is put up in the central place, or before the builder's hut. In some of the Eastern villages, the scooping out is done on the sea beach, to avoid pulling the heavy log to and from the village.
Parallel with the process of hollowing out, the other parts of the canoe are made ready to be pieced together. Four broad and long planks form the gunwale; L-shaped pieces of wood are cut into ribs; long poles are prepared for longitudinal support of the ribs, and for platform rafters; short poles are made ready as transversals of the platform and main supports of the outrigging; small sticks to connect the float with the transversals; finally, the float itself, a long, bulky log. These are the main, constituent parts of a canoe, to be made by the builder. The four carved boards are also made by him if he knows how to carve, otherwise another expert has to do this part of the work (see Plate XXVI).
When all the parts are ready, another magical rite has to be performed. It is called "kapitunela nanola waga": "the cutting off of the canoe's mind," an expression which denotes a change of mind, a final determination. In this case, the canoe makes up its mind to run quickly. The formula is short, contains at the beginning a few obscure words, and then a few geographical references to some places in the d'Entrecasteaux Archipelago. It is recited over a few drops of coco-nut oil, which is then wrapped up in a small bundle. The same spell is then again spoken over the ligogu blade, round which a piece of dry banana has been wrapped in the manner described above. The canoe is turned bottom up, the bundle with coco-nut oil placed on it and struck with the adze. With this the canoe is ready to be pieced together, and the first stage of its construction is over.
III
As has been said above, the two stages differ from one another in the nature of work done and in their sociological and ceremonial setting. So far, we have seen only a few men engaged in cutting the tree and scooping it out and then preparing the various parts of the canoe. Industriously, but slowly and deliberately, with many pauses, they toil over their work, sitting on the brown, trodden soil of the village in front of the huts, or scooping the canoe in the central place. The first part of the task, the felling of the tree, took us to the tall jungle and intricate undergrowth, climbing and festooned around the fantastic shapes of coral rocks.
Now, with the second stage, the scene shifts to the clean, snow-white sand of a coral beach, where hundreds of natives in festive array crowd around the freshly scraped body of the canoe. The carved boards, painted in black, white and red, the green fringe of palms and jungle trees, the blue of the sea--all lend colour to the vivid and lively scene. Thus I saw the building of a canoe done on the East shore of the Trobriands, and in this setting I remember it. In Sinaketa, instead of the blue, open sea, breaking in a belt of white foam outside on the fringing reef and coming in limpid waves to the beach, there are the dull, muddy browns and greens of the Lagoon, playing into pure emerald tints where the clean sandy bottom begins.
Into one of these two scenes, we must now imagine the dug-out transported from the village, after all is ready, and after the summons of the chief or headman has gone round the neighbouring villages. In the case of a big chief, several hundreds of natives will assemble to help, or to gaze on the performance. When a small community with a second-rate headman construct their canoe, only a few dozen people will come, the relatives-in-law of the headman and of other notables, and their close friends.
After the body of the canoe and all the accessories have been placed in readiness, the proceedings are opened by a magical rite, called Katuliliva tabuyo. This rite belongs to the Kula magic, for which the natives have a special expression; they call it mwasila. It is connected with the inserting of the ornamental prow-boards into their grooves at both ends of the canoe. These ornamental parts of the canoe are put in first of all, and this is done ceremonially. A few sprigs of the mint plant are inserted under the boards, as they are put in, and the toliwaga (owner of the canoe) hammers the boards in by means of a special stone imported from Dobu, and ritually repeats a formula of the mwasila magic. The mint plant (sulumwoya) plays an important
## part in the mwasila (Kula magic) as well as in love spells, and in
the magic of beauty. Whenever a substance is to be medicated for the purpose of charming, seducing, or persuading, as a rule sulumwoya is used. This plant figures also in several myths, where it plays a similar part, the mythical hero always conquering the foe or winning a woman by the use of the sulumwoya.
I shall not adduce the magical formulæ in this account, with the exception of the most important one. Even a short summary of each of them would obstruct the narrative, and it would blur completely the outline of the consecutive account of the various activities. The various complexities of the magical ritual and of the formulæ will be set forth in