Chapter X: The Story of Shipwreck (2)

I have given here a reconstruction of a native account, as I have often heard it told with characteristic vividness: spoken in short, jerky sentences, with onamatopoetic representations of sound, the narrative exaggerates certain features, and omits others. The excellency of the narrator's own magic, the violence of the elements at critical moments, he would always reiterate with monotonous insistence. He would diverge into some correlated subject, jump ahead, missing out several stages, come back, and so on, so that the whole is quite incoherent and unintelligible to a white listener, though the native audience follows its trend perfectly well. For it must be remembered that, when a native tells such a story, the events are already known to his listeners, who have grown up gradually becoming familiar with the narrow range of their tribal folklore. Our toliwaga, telling this story over again on the sandbank of Yakum, would dwell on such points as allowed him to boast of his kayga'u, to describe the violence of the storm, to bear witness to the traditional effects of the magic.

It is necessary for an Ethnographer to listen several times to such a narrative, in order to have a fair chance of forming some coherent idea of its trend. Afterwards, by means of direct examination, he can succeed in placing the facts in their proper sequence. By questioning the informants about details of rite and magic, it is possible then to obtain interpretations and commentaries. Thus the whole of a narrative can be constructed, the various fragments, with all their spontaneous freshness, can be put in their proper places, and this is what I have done in giving this account of shipwreck. [69]

A few words of comment must now be given on the text of the above narrative. In it, a number of magical rites were mentioned, besides those which were described first with their spells. Something must be said more in detail about the spells of the subsequent magical performances. There are some eleven of them. First comes the ritual invocation of the fish which helps the shipwrecked sailors. The spell corresponding to this, is called kaytaria, and it is an important formula, which every toliwaga is supposed to know. The question arises, has this rite ever been practised in reality? Some of the actions taken by the shipwrecked natives, such as the cutting of the the outrigger float when the boat is abandoned, are quite rational. It would be dangerous to float on the big, unwieldy canoe which might be constantly turned round and round by the waves, and if smashed to pieces, might injure the sailors with its wreckage. In this fact, perhaps there is also the empirical basis for the belief that some fragments of the canoe 'eat' the shipwrecked men. The round, symmetrical log of the lamina, on the other hand, will serve as an excellent lifebuoy. Perhaps a toliwaga, arrived at such a pass, would really utter the kaytaria spell. And if the party were saved, they would probably all declare, and, no doubt believe, that the fish had come to their summons, and somehow or other helped in the rescue.

It is less easy to imagine what elements in such an experience might have given rise to the myth that the natives, landed on the shore, magically lift the fish from the shallow waters by means of a charmed pole. This indeed seems a purely imaginary incident, and my main informant, Molilakwa of Oburaku, from whom I obtained the kaytaria spell, did not know the spell of the pole, and would have had to leave the iraviaka to its own fate in the shallows. Nor could I hear of anyone else professing to know this spell. The formula uttered over the stone to be thrown on the beach was equally unknown to the circle of my informants. Of course, in all such cases, when a man carrying on a system of magic would come to a gap in his knowledge, he would perform the rite without the spell, or utter the most suitable spell of the system. Thus here, as the stone is thrown in order to reconnoitre whether the mulukwausi are waiting for them, a spell of the giyorokaywa, the spell of the mulukwausi, might be uttered over the stone. Over the combs, as well as over the herbs on the beach, a giyorokaywa spell would be uttered, according to my informants, but probably, a different spell from the one spoken originally over the ginger root. Molilakwa, for instance, knows two spells of the giyorokaywa, both of which are suitable to be spoken over the ginger and over the beach respectively. Then there comes another spell, to be uttered over the libu plant, and in addressing the spider and the bush-hen. Molilakwa told me that the same spell would be said in the three cases, but neither he, nor anyone else, among my informants could give me this spell. The magic done in the village, while the shipwrecked men remained in the smoky hut, would be all accompanied by the leyya (ginger) spells.

One incident in the above narrative might have struck the reader as contradictory of the general theory of the mulukwausi belief, that, namely, where the narrator declares that the party on the beach have to wait till nightfall before they enter the village. The general belief expressed in all the mulukwausi legends, as well as in the taboos of the kayga'u, is that the witches are really dangerous only at night, when they can see and hear better. Such contradictions, as I have said, are often met in native belief, and in this, by the way, the savages do not differ from ourselves. My informant, from whom I had this version, simply said that such was the rule and the custom, and that they had to wait till night. In another account, on the other hand, I was told that the party must proceed to the village immediately after having performed the several rites on the beach, whether night or day.

There also arises the main question, regarding this narrative, to which allusion has been made already, namely, how far does it represent the normal behaviour in shipwreck, and how far is it a sort of standardised myth? There is no doubt that shipwreck in these seas, surrounded in many parts by islands, is not unlikely to end by the party's being saved. This again would result in some such explanation as that contained in our narrative. Naturally, I tried to record all the actual cases of shipwreck within the natives' memory. Some two generations ago, one of the chiefs of Omarakana, named Numakala, perished at sea, and with him all his crew. A canoe of another Eastern Trobriand village, Tilakaywa, was blown far North, and stranded in Kokopawa, from where it was sailed back by its crew, when the wind turned to the North-West. Although this canoe was not actually shipwrecked, its salvation is credited to kayga'u magic, and to the kind fish, iraviyaka. A very intelligent informant of mine explained this point of view in answer to some of my cavillings: "If this canoe had been wrecked, it would have been saved also."

A party from Muyuwa (Woodlark Island) were saved on the shore of Boyowa. In the South of the Island, several cases are on record where canoes were wrecked and saved in the d'Entrecasteaux Islands or in the Amphletts. Once the whole crew were eaten by cannibals, getting ashore in a hostile district of Fergusson Island, and one man only escaped, and ran along the shore, south-eastwards towards Dobu. Thus there is a certain amount of historical evidence for the saving power of the magic, and the mixture of fanciful and real elements makes our story a good example of what could be called standardised or universalised myth--that is, a myth referring not to one historical event but to a type of occurrence, happening universally.

V

Let us now give the text of the remaining spells which belong to the above narrative, but have not been adduced there, so as not to spoil its flow. First of all there is the kaytaria spell, that which the toliwaga, drifting alongside his crew on the detached canoe float, intones in a loud, slow voice, in order to attract the iraviyaka.

KAYTARIA SPELL.

"I lie, I shall lie down in my house, a big house. I shall sharpen
my ear, I shall hear the roaring of the sea--it foams up, it makes
a noise. At the bottom of Kausubiyai, come, lift me, take me,
bring me to the top of Nabonabwana beach."

Then comes a sentence with mythological allusions which I could
not succeed in translating. After that follows the main part of
the spell:

"The suyusayu fish shall lift me up; my child, the suyusayu shall
lift me up; my child's things, the suyusayu shall lift me up; my
basket, etc.; my lime pot, etc.; my lime spoon, etc.; my house,
etc.;" repeating the words "the suyusayu fish shall lift me up"
with various expressions describing the toliwaga's equipment as
well as his child, presumably a member of the shipwrecked crew.

There is no end part to this spell, as it was given to me; only the beginning is repeated after the main part. It is not impossible that Molilakwa himself, my informant, did not know the spell to the end. Such magic, once learnt by a native, never used, and recited perhaps once a year during a mortuary ceremony, or occasionally, in order to show off, is easily forgotten. There is a marked difference between the vacillating and uncertain way in which such spells are produced by informants, and the wonderful precision and the easy flow with which, for example, the spells, year after year performed in public, will trip off the tongue of the garden magician.

I cannot give a correct commentary to the mythological names Kausubiyai and Nabonabwana, in the first part of the spell. What this part means, whether the reclining individual who hears the noises of the sea is the magician, or whether it represents the sensations of the fish who hears the calling for help, I could not make out. The meaning of the middle part is plain, however. Suyusayu is another name for iraviyaka, indeed, its magical name used only in spells, and not when speaking of it in ordinary conversations.

The other formula to be given here is the other giyorokaywa spell, which would be used in spitting the ginger on the beach after rescue, and also in medicating the herbs, which will be put on the beach and beaten with a stone. This spell is associated with the myth of the origin of kayga'u, which must be related here, to make the formula clear.

Near the beginning of time, there lived in Kwayawata, one of the Marshall Bennetts, a family strange to our ideas of family life, but quite natural in the world of Kiriwinian mythology. It consisted of a man, Kalaytaytu, his sister, Isenadoga, and the youngest brother, a dog, Tokulubweydoga. Like other mythological personages, their names suggest that originally they must have conveyed some sort of description. Doga means the curved, almost circular, boar's tusk used as ornament. The name of the canine member of the family might mean something like Man-with-circular-tusks-in-his-head, and his sister's name, Woman-ornamented-with-doga. The eldest brother has in his name the word taytu, which signifies the staple food (small yams) of natives, and a verb, kalay, signifying 'to put on ornaments.' Not much profit, however, can be deduced from this etymology, as far as I can see, for the interpretation of this myth. I shall quote in a literal translation the short version of this myth, as I obtained it first, when the information was volunteered to me by Molilakwa in Oburaku.

MYTH OF TOKULUBWAYDOGA.

"They live in Kwayawata; one day Kalaytayta goes to fish, gets
into a small canoe (kewo'u). Behind him swims the dog. He comes to
Digumenu. They fish with the older brother. They catch fish! The
elder brother paddles; that one again goes behind; goes, returns
to Kwayawata. They died; came Modokei, he learned the kayga'u,
the inside of Tokulubwaydoga. The name of their mother, the mother
of Tokulubwaydoga, is Tobunaygu."

This little fragment gives a good idea of what the first version is, even of so well fixed a piece of narrative as a myth. It has to be supplemented by inquiries as to the motives of the behaviour of the various personages, as to the relations of one event to the other. Thus, further questions revealed that the elder brother refused to take the dog with him on this fishing expedition. Tokulubwaydoga then determined to go all the same, and swam to Digumenu, following the canoe of his brother. This latter was astonished to see him, but none the less they went to work together. In fishing, the dog was more successful than his brother, and thus aroused his jealousy. The man then refused to take him back. Tokulubwaydoga then jumped into the water, and again swam and arrived safely in Kwayawata. The point of the story lies in the fact that the dog was able to do the swimming, because he knew the kayga'u, otherwise the sharks, mulukwausi, or other evil things would have eaten him. He got it from his mother, the lady Tobunaygu, who could teach him this magic because she was a mulukwausi herself. Another important point about this myth, also quite omitted from the first version volunteered to me, is its sociological aspect. First of all, there is the very interesting incident, unparalleled in Kiriwinian tradition: the mother of the three belonged to the Lukwasisiga clan. It was a most incongruous thing for a dog, who is the animal of the Lukuba clan, to be born into a Lukwasisiga family. However, there he was, and so he said:

"Good, I shall be a Lukuba, this is my clan."

Now the incident of the quarrel receives its significance in so far as the dog, the only one to whom the mother gave the kayga'u, did not hand it over to his brother and sister who were of the Lukwasisiga clan, and so the magic went down only the dog's own clan, the Lukuba. It must be assumed (though this was not known to my informant) that Madokei, who learnt the magic from the dog, was also a Lukuba man.

Like all mythological mother-ancestresses, Tobunaygu had no husband, nor does this circumstance call forth any surprise or comment on the part of the natives, since the physiological aspect of fatherhood is not known among them, as I have repeatedly observed.

As can be seen, by comparing the original fragment, and the subsequent amplification by inquiries, the volunteered version misses out the most important points. The concatenation of events, the origin of the kayga'u, the important sociological details, have to be dragged out of the informant, or, to put it more correctly, he has to be made to enlarge on points, to roam over all the subjects covered by the myth, and from his statements then, one has to pick out and piece together the other bits of the puzzle. On the other hand, the names of the people, the unimportant statements of what they did and how they were occupied are unfailingly given.

Let us adduce now the kayga'u, which is said to be derived from the dog, and ultimately from his mother:

KAYGA'U OF TOKULUBWAYDOGA.

"Tobunaygu (repeated), Manemanaygu (repeated), my mother a snake,
myself a snake; myself a snake, my mother a snake. Tokulubwaydoga,
Isenadoga, Matagagai, Kalaytaytu; bulumava'u tabugu Madokei. I
shall befog the front, I shall shut off the rear; I shall befog
the rear, I shall shut off the front."

This exordium contains at first the invocation of the name of
the mulukwausi, who was the source of the spell. Its pendant
Manemanaygu is, according to my informant, derived from an archaic
word nema, equivalent to the present day yama, hand. "As the
right hand is to the left one, so is Tobunaygu to Manemanaygu,"
which was expressed as a matter of fact in the less grammatically
worded form; "this right hand, this left" (clapped together)
"so Tobunaygu, Manemanaygu."

Whether this analysis of my informant is correct must remain an
open question. It must be remembered that magic is not taken by the
natives as an ethnographic document, allowing of interpretations
and developments, but as an instrument of power. The words are
there to act, and not to teach. Questions as to the meaning of
magic, as a rule, puzzled the informants, and therefore it is
not easy to explain a formula or obtain a correct commentary upon
it. All the same there are some natives who obviously have tried
to get to the bottom of what the various words in magic represent.

To proceed with our commentary, the phrase "My mother a snake,
etc.," was thus explained to me by Molilakwa: "Supposing we strike
a snake, already it vanishes, it does not remain; thus also we
human beings, when mulukwausi catch us, we disappear." That
is, we disappear after having spoken this magical formula,
for in a formula the desired result is always expressed in
anticipation. Molilakwa's description of a snake's behaviour is,
according to my experience, not sound Natural History, but it
probably expresses the underlying idea, namely the elusiveness
of the snake, which would naturally be one of the metaphorical
figures used in the spell.

The string of words following the invocation of the snake are all
mythical names, four of which we found mentioned in the above
myth, while the rest remain obscure. The last-named, that of
Modokei, is preceded by the words bulumavau tabugu, which means,
'recent spirit of my ancestor,' which words are as a rule used
in spells with reference to real grandfathers of the reciters.

The middle part of the spell proceeds:--

"I shall cover the eyes of the witches of Kitava; I shall cover
the eyes of the witches of Kumwageya; I shall cover the eyes of
the witches of Iwa; I shall cover the eyes of the witches of Gawa,
etc., etc.," enumerating all the villages and islands renowned
for their witches. This list is again recited, substituting for
the expression "I shall cover," in succession, "I shall befog,"
and "dew envelopes." This middle part needs no commentary.

The end of this formula runs as follows:

"I shall kick thy body, I shall take thy spirit skirt, I shall
cover thy buttocks, I shall take thy mat, a pandanus mat, I
shall take thy mantle. I shall strike thee with my foot, go,
fly over Tuma, fly away. I myself in the sea (here the reciter's
name is mentioned), I shall drift away, well." This last part of
the spell is so much alike to the end of the spell first quoted
in this chapter, that no commentary is needed.

The mythological and magical data presented in this chapter all bear upon the native belief in flying witches and dangers at sea, a belief in which elements of reality are strangely blended with traditionally fixed fancies, in a way, however, not uncommon to human belief in general. It is time now to return to our party on the beach at Yakum, who, after having spent the night there, next morning rig up their masts, and with a favourable wind, soon reach the waters of Gumasila and Domdom.