When, on a calm day, suddenly a fresh breeze rises, the sail is set, and fills, and the canoe lifts its lamina (outrigger float) out of the water, and races along, flinging the spray to right and left—there is no mistaking the keen enjoyment of the natives. All rush to their posts and keenly watch the movements of the boat; some break out into song, and the younger men lean over and play with the water. They are never tired of discussing the good points of their canoes, and analysing the various craft. In the coastal villages of the Lagoon, boys and young men will often sail out in small canoes on mere pleasure cruises, when they race each other, explore less familiar nooks of the Lagoon, and in general undoubtedly enjoy the outing, in just the same manner as we would do.
Seen from outside, after you have grasped its construction and appreciated through personal experience its fitness for its purpose, the canoe is no less attractive and full of character than from within. When, on a trading expedition or as a visiting party, a fleet of native canoes appears in the offing, with their triangular sails like butterfly wings scattered over the water (see Plate XLVIII), with the harmonious calls of conch shells blown in unison, the effect is unforgettable.2 When the canoes then approach, and you see them rocking in the blue water in all the splendour of their fresh white, red, and black paint, with their finely designed prow-boards, and clanking array of large, white cowrie shells (see Plates XLIX, LV)—you understand well the admiring love which results in all this care bestowed by the native on the decoration of his canoe.
Even when not in actual use, when lying idle beached on the sea front of a village, the canoe is a characteristic element in the scenery, not without its share in the village life. The very big canoes are in some cases housed in large sheds (see Plate XXII), which are by far the largest buildings erected by the Trobrianders. In other villages, where sailing is always being done, a canoe is simply covered with palm leaves (see Plates I, LIII), as protection from the sun, and the natives often sit on its platform, chatting, and chewing betel-nut, and gazing at the sea. The smaller canoes, beached near the sea-front in long parallel rows, are ready to be launched at any moment. With their curved outline and intricate framework of poles and sticks, they form one of the most characteristic settings of a native coastal village.
II
A few words must be said now about the technological essentials of the canoe. Here again, a simple enumeration of the various parts of the canoe, and a description of them, a pulling to pieces of a lifeless object will not satisfy us. I shall instead try to show how, given its purpose on the one hand, and the limitations in technical means and in material on the other, the native ship-builders have coped with the difficulties before them.
A sailing craft requires a water-tight, immersible vessel of some considerable volume. This is supplied to our natives by a hollowed-out log. Such a log might carry fairly heavy loads, for wood is light, and the hollowed space adds to its buoyancy. Yet it possesses no lateral stability, as can easily be seen. A look at the diagrammatic section of a canoe Fig. I (1), shows that a weight with its centre of gravity in the middle, that is, distributed symmetrically, will not upset the equilibrium, but any load placed so as to produce a momentum of rotation (that is, a turning force) at the sides (as indicated by arrows at A or B) will cause the canoe to turn round and capsize.