Chapter VII
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Next morning, I left for the neighbouring island and village of Nabwageta, and only after he saw me safely off, Tovasana and his party left in his canoe, following the others to Vakuta. In Nabwageta, the whole community were in the midst of their final preparations for departure, for they intended to wait for the Dobuans and sail with them to Kiriwina. All their canoes were being painted and renovated, a sail was being repaired on the beach (see Plate LIII). There were some minor distributions of food taking place in the village, the stuff being over and over again allotted and re-allotted, smaller pieces carved out of the big chunks and put into special wrappings. This constant handling of food is one of the most prominent features of tribal life in that part of the world. As I arrived, a sail for one of the canoes was just being finished by a group of men. In another canoe, I saw them mending the outrigger by attaching the small log of light, dry wood to make the old, waterlogged float more buoyant. I could also watch in detail the final trimming of the canoes, the putting up of the additional frames, of the coco-nut mats, the making of the little cage in the central part for the pots and for the lilava (the sacred bundle), I was, nevertheless, not on sufficiently intimate terms with these Nabwageta natives to be allowed to witness any of the magic. Their system of mwasila is identical with that of Boyowa, in fact, it is borrowed from there.
Next day--in this village again I had difficulty in finding any good informants, a difficulty increased by the feverish occupation of all the men--I went for a long row in the afternoon with my two 'boys,' hoping to reach the island of Domdom. A strong current, which in this
## part is at places so pronounced that it breaks out into steep, tidal
waves, made it impossible to reach our goal. Returning in the dark, my boys suddenly grew alert and excited, like hounds picking up a scent. I could perceive nothing in the dark, but they had discerned two canoes moving westwards. Within about half-an-hour, a fire became visible, twinkling on the beach of a small, deserted island South of Domdom; evidently some Dobuans were camping there. The excitement and intense interest shown by my boys, one a Dobuan, the other from Sariba (Southern Massim), gave me an inkling of the magnitude of this event--the vanguard of a big Kula fleet slowly creeping up towards one of its intermediate halting places. It also brought home to me vividly the inter-tribal character of this institution, which unites in one common and strongly emotional interest so many scattered communities. That night, as we learnt afterwards, a good number of canoes had anchored on the outlying deserted islands of the Amphletts, waiting for the rest of the fleet to arrive. When we came that evening to Nabwageta, the news had already been received of the important event, and the whole village was astir.
Next day, the weather was particularly fine and clear, with the distant mountains wreathed only in light cumuli, their alluring outlines designed in transparent blue. Early in the afternoon, with a blast of conch shell, a Dobuan waga, in full paint and decoration, and with the rich pandanus mat of the sail glowing like gold against the blue sea, came sailing round the promontory. One after the other, at intervals of a few minutes each, other canoes came along, all sailing up to some hundred yards from the beach, and then, after furling the sail, paddling towards the shore (see Plate XL). This was not a ceremonial approach, as the aim of the expedition this time did not embrace the Amphletts, but was directed towards the Trobriands only, Vakuta, and Sinaketa; these canoes had put in only for an intermediate halt. Nevertheless, it was a great event, especially as the canoes of Nabwageta were going to join with the fleet later on. Out of the sixty or so Dobuan canoes, only about twenty-five with some 250 men in them had come to Nabwageta, the others having gone to the big village of Gumasila. In any case, there were about five times as many men gathered in the village as one usually sees. There was no Kula done at all, no conch-shells were blown on the shore, nor do I think were any presents given or received by either party. The men sat in groups round their friends' houses, the most distinguished visitors collected about the dwelling of Tobwa'ina, the main headman of Nabwageta.
Many canoes were anchored along the coast beyond the village beach, some tucked away into small coves, others moored in sheltered shallows. The men sat on the shore round fires, preparing their food, which they took out of the provisions carried on the canoes. Only the water did they obtain from the island, filling their coco-nut-made water vessels from the springs. About a dozen canoes were actually moored at the village beach. Late at night, I walked along the shore to observe their sleeping arrangements. In the clear, moonlit night, the small fires burnt with a red, subdued glow; there was always one of them between each two sleepers, consisting of three burning sticks, gradually pushed in as they were consumed. The men slept with the big, stiff pandanus mats over them; each mat is folded in the middle, and when put on the ground, forms a kind of miniature prismatic tent. All along the beach, it was almost a continuous row of man alternating with fire, the dun-coloured mats being nearly invisible against the sand in the full moonlight. It must have been a very light sleep for every now and then, a man stirred, peeping up from under his shell, re-adjusting the fire, and casting a searching glance over the surroundings. It would be difficult to say whether mosquitoes or cold wind or fear of sorcery disturbed their sleep most, but I should say the last.
The next morning, early, and without any warning, the whole fleet sailed away. At about 8 o'clock the last canoe punted towards the offing, where they stepped their mast and hoisted their sail. There were no farewell gifts, no conch shell blowing, and the Dobuans this time left their resting place as they had come, without ceremony or display. The morning after, the Nabwagetans followed them. I was left in the village with a few cripples, the women and one or two men who had remained perhaps to look after the village, perhaps specially to keep watch over me and see that I did no mischief. Not one of them was a good informant. Through a mistake of mine, I had missed the cutter which had come two days before to the island of Gumasila and left without me. With bad luck and bad weather, I might have had to wait a few weeks, if not months in Nabwageta. I could perhaps have sailed in a native canoe, but this could only be done without bedding, tent, or even writing outfit and photographic apparatus, and so my travelling would have been quite useless. It was a piece of great good luck that a day or two afterwards, a motor launch, whose owner had heard about my staying in the Amphletts, anchored in front of Nabwageta village, and within an hour I was speeding towards the Trobriands again, following the tracks of the Kula fleet.
II
On the next morning, as we slowly made our way along the channels in the opalescent, green lagoon, and as I watched a fleet of small, local canoes fishing in their muddy waters, and could recognise on the surrounding flat shores a dozen well-known villages, my spirits rose, and I felt well pleased to have left the picturesque, but ethnographically barren Amphletts for the Trobriands, with their scores of excellent informants.
Moreover, the Amphletts, in the persons of their male inhabitants were soon to join me here. I went ashore in Sinaketa, where everybody was full of the great moment which was soon to arrive. For the Dobuan fleet was known to be coming, though on that morning, so far, no news had reached them of its whereabouts. As a matter of fact, the Dobuans, who had left Nabwageta forty-eight hours ahead of me, had made a slow journey with light winds, and sailing a course to the East of mine, had arrived that morning only in Vakuta.
All the rumours which had been reported to me in the Amphletts about the previous movements of the Trobriand natives had been correct. Thus the natives of Vakuta had really been to the East, to Kitava, and had brought with them a big haul of armshells. To'uluwa, the chief of Kiriwina, had visited Kitava later, and about five or six days before had returned from there, bringing with him 213 pairs of armshells. The Sinaketans then had gone to Kiriwina, and out of the 213 pairs had succeeded in securing 154. As there had been previously 150 pairs in Sinaketa, a total of 304 was awaiting the Dobuans. On the morning of my arrival, the Sinaketan party had just returned from Kiriwina, hurrying home so as to have everything ready for the reception of the Dobuans. Of these, we got the news that very afternoon--news which travelled overland from one village to another, and reached us from Vakuta with great rapidity. We were also told that the uvalaku fleet would be at Sinaketa within two or three days.
This period I utilised in refurbishing my information about that phase of the Kula, which I was going to witness, and trying to get a clear outline of every detail of all that was going soon to happen. It is extremely important in sociological work to know well beforehand the underlying rules and the fundamental ideas of an occurrence, especially if big masses of natives are concerned in it. Otherwise, the really important events may be obliterated by quite irrelevant and accidental movements of the crowd, and thus the significance of what he sees may be lost to the observer. No doubt if one could repeat one's observations on the same phenomenon over and over again, the essential and relevant features would stand out by their regularity and permanence. If, however, as it often happens in ethnographic field-work, one gets the opportunity only once of witnessing a public ceremony, it is necessary to have its anatomy well dissected beforehand, and then concentrate upon observing how these outlines are followed up concretely, gauge the tone of the general behaviour, the touches of emotion or passion, many small yet significant details which nothing but actual observation can reveal, and which throw much light upon the real, inner relation of the native to his institution. So I was busy going over my old entries and checking them and putting my material into shape in a detailed and concrete manner.
On the third day, as I was sitting and taking notes in the afternoon, word ran all round the villages that the Dobuan canoes had been sighted. And indeed, as I hastened towards the shore, there could be seen, far away, like small petals floating on the horizon, the sails of the advancing fleet. I jumped at once into a canoe, and was punted along towards the promontory of Kaykuyawa, about a mile to the South of Sinaketa. There, one after the other, the Dobuan canoes were arriving, dropping their sails and undoing the mast as they moored, until the whole fleet, numbering now over eighty canoes, were assembled before me (see Plate XLVIII). From each a few men waded ashore, returning with big bunches of leaves. I saw them wash and smear themselves and perform the successive stages of native, festive adornment (see Plate XLIX). Each article was medicated by some man or another in the canoe before it was used or put on. The most carefully handled articles of ornamentation were the ineffective looking, dried up herbs, taken out of their little receptacles, where they had remained since they had been becharmed in Dobu, and now stuck into the armlets. The whole thing went on quickly, almost feverishly, making more the impression of a piece of technical business being expeditiously performed, than of a solemn and elaborate ceremony taking place. But the ceremonial element was soon to show itself.
After the preparations were finished, the whole fleet formed itself into a compact body, not quite regular, but with a certain order, about four or five canoes being in a row, and one row behind the other. In this formation they punted along over the Lagoon, too shallow for paddling, towards the beach of Sinaketa. When they were within about ten minutes of the shore, all the conch shells began to be sounded, and the murmur of recited magic rose from the canoes. I could not come sufficiently near the canoes, for reason of etiquette, to be able to see the exact arrangement of the reciters, but I was told that it was the same as that observed by the Trobrianders on their approach to Dobu, described in