“Popo” Outrigger Canoes of the Central Caroline Islands

Flying proas of the Caroline Islands, from Adm. Paris. (click any image to enlarge)

In 1983 and 1984, Steve Thomas, who would later host the television series This Old House, lived intermittently on the tiny atoll of Satawal in the central Caroline Islands, an experience he documented in the book The Last Navigator: A Young Man, An Ancient Mariner, The Secrets of the Sea. While there, he lived with and studied under Mau Piailug, a master of the traditional Micronesian art and science of navigation, who had previously gained notoriety as the navigator on the early voyages of Hokule’a (which, as a Polynesian double canoe, was quite a different craft from the single-outrigger canoes of Micronesia to which he was accustomed).

A proa from Satawal (From the cover of The Last Navigator, by Steve Thomas)

The Last Navigator is a good book, an engaging, sensitively-written memoir of a young man attempting to learn about and fit into a very different society – in this case, one whose traditional, preindustrial culture was under extreme pressure from the forces of modernization and Westernization. While it contained what I suspect might be some valuable ethnographic observations and a good general description of traditional Micronesian methods of navigation (for a detailed explanation, see We, The Navigators: The Ancient Art of Landfinding in the Pacific, by David Lewis), it is scanty on information about the boats of Satawal and their construction.

Micronesia was home to a great number of outrigger canoe types – so great that James Hornell, in The Canoes of Polynesia, Fiji, and Micronesia, devoted many pages documenting separately those of the Carolines, the Marshalls, the Gilberts, the Marianas, and certain other of the region’s smaller groups and individual islands. Even within the central Carolines, there was too much variation between islands for it to be practical to document every differentiating detail, necessitating some generalization of a “western and central Caroline” type. Since I came to the subject of the central Carolines canoe by way of The Last Navigator, this post focuses, to the extent possible, on boats most like those that appear on Satawal, and relies on Hornell’s generalizations for a more encompassing view.

Flying proa or popo of the Caroline Islands. (From Hornell, after Paris) 

The ocean-voyaging canoes of Satawal are “flying proas” of a type which, according to Hornell, were called popos. Like almost all single-outrigger craft of the Pacific, they always sail with the outrigger to windward, using the outrigger float for stability in light or no air and as a counterbalance – supplemented by crew weight – against the force of higher winds. As such, popos are shunting craft, with identical ends that alternately serve as the bow and stern as the boat changes direction relative to the wind.

Notable differences in canoe design existed between the main island groups of Micronesia, as shown in this comparison of proas from the western and central Carolines (left) and the Marshall Islands (right). (Kubary)

Among the most distinctive characteristic of the popo are:

• a narrow, deep hull with identical ends but lateral asymmetry, in which the windward side is much less curved than the leeward. In fact, on some boats, the windward side of the hull is nearly a flat plane.
• hull construction of stitched planks on a dugout base
• a platform extending from the hull on the lee side, opposite the outrigger
• an oceanic lateen rig, consisting of a single triangular sprit sail hung from a mast stepped exactly amidships that pivots fore-and-aft with each shunt, allowing the sail’s direction and its center of effort to shift ends (not, however, without some complex evolutions on the part of the crew)

When Thomas lived on Satawal, Piailug was in the process of building a popo 33’ feet long and 8’ high from the keel to the “eyes” at the ends. This was the largest canoe built there in living memory, most others being around 26’ or 27’ long. According to Hornell, the canoes present in the central Carolines early in the twentieth century were smaller than those of the nineteenth, so lengths in the mid-thirty-foot range and, judging from Paris's drawings, even longer, may have been common in the past.

Hull Form and Construction

End, plan and section views of the Caroline proa (Hornell, after Paris)

On Yap, in the western Carolines, and a few other islands were large trees were available,

...all but the upper part of the sides and the two curved heads are hewn from a single log. In atolls where no large timber is available the dugout portion shrinks to a wedge-shaped piece channeled longitudinally on the upper side so as to give two everted edges upon which the garboard strakes are sewn.... Usually the shapes and sizes of the strake planks are irregular, suitable wood being too precious in atolls to permit either of long running lengths or of adzing opposite edges parallel. So the hull in these islands is a mass of patchwork, all, however, fitted together with remarkable accuracy. (Hornell)

Paris's plan and construction views on which Hornell's illustrations are based. (Source: Wikipedia. Thanks to Walter Stanish for uploading this version of the image and alerting me to it.)

According to Thomas, the hull timber was breadfruit or “a mahoganylike tree called rugger...” from which the keel was hewn and the planks were split. Thomas describes how a chainsaw was used to fell the tree for the keel of Piailug’s new boat. The chainsaw was a fairly unfamiliar tool on Satawal at the time, and few of the men knew how to use it. After the “blade-like legs” of the breadfruit were cut through and the tree was felled, limbed, and cut to its desired length, the log for the keel was 6’ in diameter and 30’ long. With the chainsaw, a couple of operators performed the process in one morning “what usually took six men more than a day” to perform with axes.

Thomas does not describe how planks were split or otherwise gotten out, but it is clear that adzes were used to shape all the timbers. The hull has two end pieces cut from solid timber, each of which attaches at an end of the keel and extends upward as a cutwater and stem “and ends throughout the western and central Carolines in a peculiar and most characteristic fork” (Hornell).

No plans or standard measuring devices are used in shaping the hull, the builders working instead by eye and by a series of proportions or ratios between various of the boat’s features. (For example: height of the mast equals length of the hull; length of the outrigger is one half the length of the hull. Thomas.) Regarding the pronounced asymmetry of the hull, Hornell explains that is counteracts the asymmetrical resistance imposed by the single outrigger, allowing the boat to travel straight with minimal steering input when the float is in the water.

Planks are added to the keel to build up the hull’s freeboard with, as Hornell says, “little or no need to fit strengthening frames and this is not the custom in the Carolines.... Adequate stiffness is obtained when necessary by the insertion of solid bulkheads or partitions beneath the transverse supports of the lee platform.” Stiffness is increased further with heavy thwarts and gunwales.

Thomas stated that Piailug, in building his new boat, lashed the planks together temporarily, but Thomas did not explain why. Perhaps it was not enough to ensure that each individual plank fitted properly against its neighbors but that, instead, the entire hull had to be test-assembled to ensure good fits. The wood of the cross-beams (i.e., thwarts) that Piailug wished to install was too tough to be worked with an adze, so the pieces were buried in moist sand for a period to soften them.

Planks are stitched to the keel and to each other with discontinuous stitches of coconut-fiber rope (i.e., coir), made, in Thomas’s account, by the island’s old men, hand-rolling the coconut fibers against their thighs. Planks were caulked with a compound of dehydrated breadfruit sap applied to strips of coconut husk. According to Thomas, this caulking gradually dries out and loses its efficacy, requiring the boats to be disassembled and rebuilt “every two years or so.”

During one of these rebuilding episodes on Satawal on a boat named Suntory (after a brand of Japanese whiskey), the builder in charge decided to lighten the boat to make it faster. After disassembly, all the planks were therefore adzed down to make them thinner. Thomas did not describe whether this process improved the boat’s performance or affected its strength or water-tightness.

Thomas agrees with Hornell in saying that the outer surface of the hull was finished very smooth, although the process of sanding or otherwise smoothing the planks it is not described by either. (Throughout much of the Pacific, shark skin was used as sandpaper for this purpose.) Hulls were traditionally painted in patterns of red, black, and white.

Outrigger and Lee Platform

According to Hornell, the two main outrigger booms, which are fairly straight, “pierce both washstrakes of the hull in large canoes and (extend) a few inches outboard on the lee side.” (In Hornell's version of Admiral Paris’s drawing, however, it is unclear if the booms are entirely surrounded by the washstrake or if, possibly, they are notched full-depth into its top surface). In the popo’s most characteristic form, the outrigger booms also serve as the main support for a large triangular platform which carries crew and cargo. Poles extend diagonally from the windward gunwale at points near both ends of the hull to the main booms near their outboard ends, and the resulting isosceles triangle is covered by planks or light poles.

A second rectangular platform extending from the hull’s leeward size further increases the boat’s cargo capacity. This platform is supported by another pair of heavy timbers that cross the hull. These timbers are angled sharply upward toward their outboard end, allowing the platform to remain dry with the boat at a significant angle of heel. Sometimes the surface of the platform is built directly on these sloping supports; on other cases, another, lighter framework is built over this main structure and decked over, creating a surface that is horizontal when the boat is on an even keel.

Enclosures of basketwork, which may be round, oval, or rectangular, often appear on one or both platforms. These are used primarily to protect cargo, but it appears they occasionally serve as shelters for passengers or off-duty crew.

Connection between the outrigger booms and the float. In the image on the left, the inner two crutches have been omitted for clarity. (Hornell)

The outrigger float, canoe-shaped in plan, hexagonal in section, and about half the length of the hull, is hewn from a solid baulk. It is connected to each boom by a pair of short crutches, the forks of which straddle the booms from below. The lower ends of these crutches are pointed and driven several inches into the upper facets of the float. Between each pair of crutch forks is a yoke which rests across the top surfaces of both booms and extends several inches beyond them. Holes are bored horizontally through the angled top surfaces of the float, and ropes are routed through these holes, over the ends of the yoke, and in a complex path around the crutches to hold the float securely to the booms, with the crutches in compression between them. Additional, lighter-weight braces are lashed to the undersides of the booms, further connecting them to each other and to the crutches, and from one pair of crutches to the other. The entire outrigger structure is thus highly complex and highly engineered for strength and flexibility.

Sail Rig and Steering

Caroline proas (Paris)

The defining characteristic of all true proas is the oceanic lateen or oceanic sprit sail hung from a pivoting mast stepped amidships. (I find the term “crab-claw” used often inappropriately, preferring to apply it only to sails whose leech is deeply concave and therefore somewhat reminiscent of the shape of a claw. This is not the case in the canoes of the central Carolines.) In combination with a double-ended hull, this permits the boat to be shunted, and sailed with either end forward. Sails were traditionally hand-woven from fibers stripped from the leaves of the pandanus or screw pine, but commercially manufactured cloth has apparently been in common use for some time.

Hornell takes pains to define the nomenclature of the sail’s spars, calling the one at the luff (the upper/forward edge) a yard, and the one at the foot a boom. He describes the rigging as follows:

A shroud runs from near the masthead to the yoke [i.e., the short, stout timber connecting the outrigger booms at their outer ends], to which it is secured after passing through a hole bored through its center. There is also a fore-and-aft running stay made fast respectively to the endmost thwart at each end of the hull.

(T)he sail is hoisted by a peak halyard attached far out on the yard and rove through a sheave hole in the masthead; the heel of the yard rests against a sail step set on a short thwart right in the bows, to which the tack is made fast.

There is no shroud or other line serving as such to leeward in this description, and in Thomas’s account of a voyage from Satawal to a nearby atoll, the rig was nearly lost once when the sail was backwinded, due to this lack of support on that side of the boat. No leeward shroud is shown in the diagram or cover photo of Thomas’s book, but in Paris’s diagram and one of his drawings (fifth and first images in this post), a shroud is visible leading from the masthead to the lee platform. Perhaps the practice varied on different islands even within the central Carolines.

Main features of a Satawal proa (from Thomas)

In the past, popos were generally steered by means of a quarter rudder with a tiller that extended laterally from its aft edge near the top. The rudder was not hung from the hull, but instead held by the helmsman’s foot against a wooden pin that projected from the hull. A rope from the top of the blade to the hull, visible in Paris's diagram (image #3), prevented loss of the rudder and perhaps provided some stability to it but apparently did little to hold it in its proper working position for, according to Hornell, “The steersman’s duty is the heaviest aboard and on a journey he has to be relieved frequently.” It rough seas when the rudder could not be controlled, it was lifted from the water, and several men with regular paddles would steer. In Thomas’s account, however, steering was always by means of a single steering paddle, and no rudder appears in his description or in the book’s diagram.

Canoe Houses

Caroline sailing canoes are built and kept in a canoe house. On Satawal, in Thomas’s account, each of the island’s eight clans owned a canoe and kept it in its own house. All the houses were on the same beach, near the main (only?) channel through the island’s surrounding reef, with the house belonging to the clan of the island’s chief directly opposite and closest to the channel. The canoe houses serve as social centers for the men, who typically gather there to talk and drink even when work is not under way on a canoe.

Experienced men of middle age do most of the work on the canoes, assisted and observed by younger ones -- or, in Thomas's account, those few younger ones who could be induced to take an interest any longer. Older men typically observe the work and offer suggestions but restrict their hands-on contribution to the making of rope.

Primary Sources:

Hornell, James, The Canoes of Polynesia, Fiji, and Micronesia, B.P. Bishop Museum, 1936, in Canoes of Oceania (with A.C. Haddon), B.P Bishop Museum, Honolulu, 1975

Kubary, J.S., Ethnographiphische Beiträge zur Kenntniss des Karolinen-Achipel, Leiden, 1889-95

Pâris, François-Edmond, Essai sur la construction navale des peuples extra-européens ou Collection des navires et pirogues construits par les habitants de l'Asie, de la Malaisie, du Grand Océan et de l'Amérique dessinés et mesurés pendant les voyages autour du monde de "l'Astrolabe", "la Favorite" et "l'Artémise")

Thomas, Steve, The Last Navigator: A Young Man, An Ancient Mariner, The Secrets of the Sea, International Marine, Camden, ME (no date). Originally published by Henry Holt, 1987

Additional sources, useful websites and pages:
http://www.samlow.com/screeningroom/navigators-filming.html
http://starrigging.blogspot.com/ and http://starrigging.blogspot.com/2017/06/canoe-sketch.html
http://waterworks-sysooke.blogspot.com/2011/10/chamorro-and-carolinian-sailing-canoes.html
http://archives.starbulletin.com/2008/04/25/features/story04.html
http://www.multihull.de/proa/history/p_history.htm
http://habele.blogspot.com/2017/03/historic-sail-showcases-micronesian.html
http://www.samlow.com/sail-nav/CEREMONY.htm
http://proafile.com/multihull-boats/article/the-proa-file-primer

Sewn Canoes of the Society Islands

Capt. Henry Byam Martin, RN, was stationed in Tahiti in 1846-47, observing the French takeover of the island. Our most recent post looked at the dugout canoes of Tahiti that he observed, while the previous one examined a large sewn double canoe from the Tuamoto Islands that he saw in Tahiti This post will focus on native stitched boats that Martin illustrated in the Society Islands, of which Tahiti is one.

Titled "Cleopatra's barge: a free translation, Utaroa, 27th October, 1846." Utaroa is a community on Raiatea, one of the Societies, where Martin visited Pomare, the queen of Tahiti who had self-exiled herself while attempting to reestablish her position and authority in the face of the French takeover. Although Martin doesn't explicitly identify this image with Pomare, I believe the sketch's title is an ironic reference to her. The stout, seated, cigar-smoking figure in blue beneath the palm-leaf sunshade matches his description of her essential characteristics. (Click any image to enlarge.)

The previous image is from the cover of a published version of Martin's journal, while this one is from the book's interior. The color and detail are better here, but unfortunately the page gutter obscures the middle of the image. Between the two, one can make out the following: 

• Stitched upper strakes, attached to (probably) a dugout base. The stitches are discontinuous.
• There appears to be a square transom. The long, probably flat "bowsprit" extension is in keeping with the design of Tahitian dugout canoes. 
• Two paddlers in the bow provide propulsion, while one aft, apparently female, steers. It is remarkable that there are only two power-paddlers for such a large and heavily-burdened boat, and also that they are seated on the bow's overhang, not further aft where the hull's buoyancy would provide greater support.
• The paddles have large, rounded blades and probably no grip at the top of the shaft. 
• The curved, mostly-horizontal boom is a mystery, for there is no outrigger on the visible port side, and no indication of a second outrigger boom aft of it that might support the aft end of an outrigger float on the starboard side either.

Capt. Martin relates the following tale concerning canoes and royalty on Raiatea:

"Mr. Barff [a Christian missionary on the island] told me with reference to the ceremonies at Opoa point -- that formerly the Kings & Queens of Raiatea were inaugurated there. On those occasions the new sovereign landed from a canoe of state, which was hauled up the beach on the bodies of 6 victims -- one from each island. Hence it became a cant term to send for a roller -- which meant a mauvais sujet [lit: "bad subject," i.e., troublemaker] that the chief wished to dispose of." 

Although this sounds like a fantasy conjured by the prejudice of European cultural imperialism, many of the earliest European visitors to Tahiti -- those who visited before the onslaught of Christian missionaries -- observed and confirmed that human sacrifice was indeed practiced, and that those sacrificed for ritual purposes were typically -- and conveniently -- those very individuals who had made themselves inconvenient to the society.

It is unclear at which of the Society Islands Martin observed this fascinating boat. It appears to be entirely of stitched planks: at least, the extreme rise of the stern would be difficult to form from a straight tree trunk, although carving it dugout-style from a curved tree is not out of the question. In any case, there are at least two courses of strakes, and the stitches appear to be continuous. The shield-shaped, square transom is unusual and eye-catching. Other features:

• The spritsail rig is probably indigenous, but the square topsail may be an adoption of a Western type. There is a sheet to the upper end of the sprit.
• The topsail has both both upper and lower yards. The whole topsail rig is mounted on a topmast that is lashed to a lower mast and overlaps it by a few feet. 
• One can just make out an outrigger boom to port. 
• The spar sticking out to starboard serves to anchor the lower ends of three shrouds, which all meet the mast at the same point, just above the spritsail's head. Presumably there are similar shrouds to the forward outrigger boom to port. Since there are no lines holding the starboard spar down, the man sitting on it may serve more as a mast support than as a hiking counterweight against heeling. One assumes that on the opposite tack, the man would scramble to the forward outrigger boom before the helmsman allows the sails to take any pressure of wind.
• The attachment of the plank bowsprit to the uppermost strake is unclear and one wonders how it could be fastened securely with no visible supporting lines or brackets.
• Steering is with a single paddle held surprisingly far forward from the transom (but fairly close to the aft end of the waterline, given the long stern overhang).  

Sources:

Images and quotation from: The Polynesian Journal of Captain Henry Byam Martin, R.N. In command of H.M.S. Grampus -- 50 guns, at Hawaii and on station in Tahiti and the Society Islands, 1846-1847.

Also: Early Tahiti As The Explorers Saw It, 1767-1797, Edwin N. Ferdon

Solomon Islands Canoe: Peabody Museum #6

Here's an interesting canoe from the Solomon Islands in Melanesia, on display at Harvard University's Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology. The display card says it was given to the museum in 1898, but provides no other details, so we'll just look at the photos and make what comments we can. (Earlier posts in this series on the Peabody looked at Baffinland Inuit, Aleut, other Alaskan Eskimo, and Chinook, Coast Salish, et al, and other Pacific Northwest exhibits.)

Starting at what we believe is the stern: the canoe is a sewn-plank monohull. The base is a keel-plank, laid on the flat, to which garboards and a second layer of strakes are added. The strakes amidships are lower than those at the ends. Very tall decorations added at both ends. The plank seams are sealed with black mastic, probably derived from the putty nut (Parinarium laurinum). Elaborate decorations under the stem/stern indicate a ceremonial function, as they would be highly impractical for a working boat. (Click any image to enlarge.)

The profile shows the sharp break between the amidship strakes and the end strakes, and the extreme height of the bow and stern decorations. The hull has a great deal of rocker, continuous from bow to stern. The general shape is that of a war or "headhunting" canoe, although headhunting canoes were commonly even more elaborately decorated. They could reach 55' LOA and hold up to 35 men, but this example is probably 25-30'.

Painted decorations near the stern. The object at the left appears to be a bird (facing right). I can't make a guess about the object to the right. The gunwale has small, detailed, chip-carved decoration. Cracks can be seen in the black caulking material. Canoes were typically stored in canoe houses to protect and maintain the sealant as long as possible.

Amidships on both sides are two "medallions" made of mastic embedded with pieces of shell or mother of pearl at the garboard/upper strake seam. Also shown is a very long, narrow, pointed paddle with a T-grip.

Carved decoration on the bow extension: a dog?.

Another detail near the bow. showing plank seams and decorations. The white decoration under the keel appears to be mother-of-pearl.

Throughout most of Oceania, hulls this narrow were usually supported by outriggers. But in the Solomons, monohulls were common. 

In addition to being lashed to each other with (probably discontinuous) stitches, the planks were lashed on the inside to curved frames of complex shape. The thinness of the planks is apparent from this perspective.

A few years ago, In the Boatshed reported on the restoration of a canoe of similar type, size and age. 

Dover Bronze Age Boat Replica Built, Not Floating

[Dear readers: I'm sorry about posting so rarely during the past few months. Life's busy, as I'm sure you understand. Here's a quick one just to remind you that I'm here, and a promise to do a more substantial post as soon as I can. Thanks for your continued interest and your patience.]

I've written before about the Dover Bronze Age Boat. This is my favorite ancient boat, mainly because I was among the first journalists on the scene, and it is the only marine archaeological excavation that I have experienced up close (an experience which filled me with awe). The replica of the boat that has been under construction (which I reported here as being a full-size reproduction, but which was, in fact, built at half-size) is now essentially complete, except that it doesn't float.


As shown in the Kickstarter video, the replica's sponsors now plan to disassemble, caulk, and reassemble the boat in water-tight condition, and then to campaign it along England's south coast. The video shows parts of the boat in fine detail, including some provocative internal X-frames. I'd like to know the evidence or the reasoning behind this unusual feature. Also of interest, but unfortunately not shown, is the archaeologists' interpretation of the unusual yoke-shaped feature on the upper side of the bottom's bow end, and how it fit together with other planks in closing in the bow.

I've also written previously about the replica Ferriby Boats. Also from Britain's Bronze Age, the Ferriby boats exhibit a similar technological approach but different engineering solutions to the problems of edge-joining and waterproofing the joints between heavy hewn planks. It would be interesting to test Ferriby and a full-size Dover replica side by side and compare their capabilities.

The Samoan Va'a alo

A va'a alo, from Kava Drinking Ceremonies Among the Samoans And A Boat Voyage round 'Upolu Island, Samoa, S. Percy Smith. Note rows of decorative shells on bow and stern decks. (Click any image to enlarge.)

Both dugout and plank-built outrigger canoes were indigenous to Samoa. This is surprising, since most pre-industrial societies that had access to trees large enough to build boats of the desired size with dugout technology never developed a planked alternative. But the earliest European records of Samoa attest to the presence of planked craft there. In 1722, a Captain Roggeveen "saw very neat and fast canoes with three paddles. At Ta’ū he noted that some canoes were not made of hollowed-out trees but were made of planks very neatly joined together."  (See earlier posts on the inshore Samoan paddling dugout, the paopao and the larger offshore sailing dugout, the 'iatolima.)

What Roggeveen saw were apparently bonito canoes, or va'a alo, which were still in use when observed by Te Rangi Hiroa in the first third of the 20th century. As their name suggests, these were used for bonito fishing, and they were considered essential accouterments of chiefs and other high-ranking Samoans. Indeed, large bonito (those over 24" long, called skipjacks) were reserved for chiefs, and the common fisherman who caught and ate one, instead of turning it over to the chief, was subject to having his house burned down and his crops destroyed. Many other taboos applied, including a rule against stepping over a va'a alo during bonito fishing season, and the obligation of the owner to provide the builders with gifts and the finest of foods during construction.

Va'a alo were paddled by two or three men who would watch for seabirds hovering over the water, waiting to catch the prey fish of fast-moving predatory bonito. The fishermen would paddle through a school of bonito trailing a shell hook or gorge from a rod and line. If, while bonito fishing, the fishermen encountered a shark, they would gather in the line and attempt to capture the shark with a lasso.

To quote Te Rangi Hiroa:

"The bonito canoe (va'a alo) was built for speed so as to keep up with the schools of fish being pursued by the bonito. To obtain speed, the hull had to be made as light as possible. The size of the canoe was no problem as trees larger than the canoe were readily obtainable and were used in the soatau and 'iatolima types. To get the hull thin enough, it was easier to control the thinness of the material by dubbing out short sections of planks than by excavating the whole hull in one piece. Of later years, better control over a one-piece hull has been obtained with the sharper steel adzes, and has led to the manufacture of dugout bonito canoes. Before the advent of steel adzes, however, the technique of the plank bonito canoe had become established and many craftsmen despise the dugout bonito canoe as not being true to type. The manufacture of the plank canoe came within the field of the guild of expert carpenters. The canoe is made in the old style except for the use of steel adzes."

Profile of the hull, with plank section layout, keel, stempiece and sternpiece. The bow is to the right.

The complexity of va'a alo construction illustrates why plank-built boats were rare among societies that could build dugouts adequate to their purpose. Adzes were the primary tool used in construction: steel when it became available, and presumably stone or shell before that. Before the steel bit and brace became available, a conical shell with spiral whorls was used as a bit. Lashings were of braided sennit made from palm-leaf fibers; the mid-ribs of palm leafs were used as sewing needles to pass the lashings through the holes.

Plan and sections of the keel.

Va'a alo were built upon a keel, which was carved to a careful, elaborate shape designed to provide secure lashing and watertight joints for the first row of planks. Two styles of keels existed: a "simple" keel with a relatively straight profile (but complex plan and cross-sections), and a "compound" keel, with a sternpost and the lower portion of the stem carved as integral parts. An example of a simple keel recorded by Te Rangi Hiroa measured 23'5" long, 4.5" maximum width, and 2.5" maximum depth.

Keel bent against building posts.

The keel (of either type) was set up on posts inside a boat shed or a vacant house, with props against the roof beam to force it into the desired curve. The first strake consisted of five plank sections per side, each with a predefined shape and its own name. The bottom edges of the planks fit into a rabbet in the keel, and pieces were carefully mated for a watertight seal by repeatedly rubbing the keel with red earth, trial fitting the plank sections, observing where the clay transferred to the mating piece, then dubbing off the high spots. Blind holes were drilled through the inside surface of the planks and keel, and the pieces were sewn together with braided cord (sennit). In some canoes, a pair of parallel ridges ran along the top surface of the keel, allowing the fishermen to sweep a canoe bailer lengthwise along the bottom without interference from, or damage to, the lashings.

Lashing of keel to lower plank sections.

The plank sections of the upper row were not so strictly defined as the bottom: the available raw material determined the shapes, and the pieces – typically four per side – did not each have their own name.

Plank section (inside surface) with integral strengthening ribs and cleats.

The inside surface of planks was carved with integral ribs and foot braces. Lashings between planks were made through holes bored through a cleat running all around the planks' perimeters. The thickness of the cleats and ribs was 1.5 inches, but between them, the planks were thinned to just 0.25 to 0.5 inches. This greatly lightened the boat, giving it the speed capability needed for the bonito fishery.

Complicated sternpiece design.

Probably the most complex pieces of woodwork on the va'a alo were the ends. Whether carved integral with the keel or as separate pieces, the stem and stern pieces featured numerous details designed to ensure secure, watertight joints with the plank ends. The mere length of caption to Hiroa's illustration (above) gives some idea.

Bonito canoes had bow and stern decks which were decorated with knobs, and sometimes with valuable shells, along their centerline. Running between the decks on both sides and sewn to the top edge of the upper strakes were gunwale timbers, which both strengthened the hull and raised the topsides by two inches.

Arrangement of outrigger float, struts, and boom.

As on Samoan dugout canoes, the outrigger float was on the left side and was cut off blunt just abaft the aft boom. It was not parallel to the main hull's centerline, but instead angled slightly inward toward the bow. The float was attached to two straight booms through pairs of angled struts. A third boom, between the other two, did not attach to the float, but served as "a brace to the gunwales, a back support to the front seat, and an additional means of carrying the canoe if needed" (Hiroa).

The va'a alo was the last native plank canoe used in Samoa, and it was already on its way out when Hiroa wrote about it in the 1920s. If any remain in use, they are almost certainly heritage-minded recreations rather than true working boats.

Sources:

Most content and all images except photo from Samoan Material Culture, Te Rangi Hiroa.

Also: 

Historic Fishing Methods in American Samoa, Karen Armstrong, David Herdrich, Arielle Levine

Kava Drinking Ceremonies Among the Samoans And A Boat Voyage round 'Upolu Island, Samoa, S. Percy Smith. 

The Tomol Revival

In our most recent posts, which looked at the cultural background of the Chumash tomol and at tomol construction, both referred to replica boats – tomols that have been built since the end of "natural" indigenous use of this interesting sewn-plank canoe.

Tomol under construction by Fernando Librado, 1912 or 1913. (Click any image to enlarge.)

The first such replica was built in 1912 or 1913 under the direction of Fernando Librado, probably the last of the Chumash "Brotherhood of the Tomol" – the guild that built and used the boats. Librado, then 73 years old, built the boat at the request of John Peabody Harrington, an anthropologist who "discovered" (for the purposes of modern science) that the Chumash had not died out by the 1870s and were, in fact, still a living culture in the first decade of the 20th century. Recognizing the central role the tomol had played in Chumash culture prior to and well into the era of the Spanish missions, Harrington plied Librado with hours of questions about every aspect of tomol construction and usage, and had him build a full-size replica that is now in the Santa Barbara Museum of Natural History. (See the museum's pages on Chumash life.)

Librado's replica was not correct in all respects -- it used commercially sawn lumber and its shape was not quite authentic -- but through its construction, Harrington was nevertheless able to capture much detail about the building process, and through his intensive questioning of Librado, he was able to tease out the differences and arrive at was is probably a very accurate depiction of the boat's original form and construction. Harrington continued to live among the Chumash so intensively that he became one of them and, after receiving a post with the federal Bureau of American Ethnology, he documented their culture in thousands of pages of hand-written notes, leaving virtually no aspect of Chumash life unrecorded.

Librado's tomol in the Santa Barbara Museum of Natural History. (Photo from  blog Jack Elliott's Santa Barbara Adventure.)

In the 1970s there was a widespread reawakening of American Indian/First Peoples pride and culture, and in 1975, members of the Quabajai Chumash Indian Association built Helek, a tomol that took advantage of Harrington's notes and Librado's replica. (I've seen the word helek defined variously as hawk, falcon, and peregrine falcon.) This boat was launched in 1976, and it was campaigned on historic Chumash stomping grounds between San Miguel Island, Santa Rosa Island, and Santa Cruz Island in the Channel Islands group.

Plans for Helek, based on Harrington's description and Librado's replica. This is probably the most accurate depiction possible of a tomol.

Helek's maiden voyage.

Helek proved the be the first of several modern replicas. The Chumash Maritime Association was founded in 1996 and built the tomol 'Elye'wun (Swordfish) which, in 2001 crossed from the mainland to Santa Cruz Island: a 21-mile voyage taking 10 hours. Since then, channel crossings by the group have become a nearly annual event (the trip was cancelled in 2012 due to rough seas on the scheduled day).

'Elye'wun, built by the Chumash Maritime Association

A Google image search for "Chumash tomol" turns up photos of several additional replicas, although details on most of these have proven elusive. Some of them are clearly more authentic than others, and the quality of workmanship varies widely. Nonetheless, it appears that tomol construction is no longer in danger of becoming a lost art, and that it is being practiced by cultural organizations and individuals as a means of preserving both Chumash heritage and native skills.

I invite readers to provide information and photos about specific tomol projects. We'd love to learn and show more. Thanks!