A Very Early Maori Canoe

A sizable component of a large canoe found in New Zealand gives clues to the type of boats used to settle the islands, which probably occurred sometime between 1050 and 1250 CE. Found at Anewaka, on the northwest coast of South Island, the artifact has been dated to around 1400. Given the slowness with which technology changes in traditional societies, it seems probable that the boat it came from was similar to those used by the islands' first colonizers.

Canoe fragment recovered at Anewaka, New Zealand (click any image to enlarge)

More than 6m long and 85cm wide at its widest point, the part was a piece of what must have been a large composite canoe. For convenience, we'll call it a plank, though it was carved "in the round," following the shape of the tree trunk from which it came, and it is therefore somewhat closer to dugout technology than to plank-on-frame boatbuilding. (The proper term for this kind of component is ile.) The boat was, however, by no means a dugout. The part represents less than one quarter of one hull which may have been from a single-outrigger canoe but was more likely half of a double canoe.

Stitching holes exist around the entire perimeter of the plank, and pounded tree bark that was used to caulk these holes was recovered from some of them. Carved ribs and a longitudinal stringer on the inner surface of the plank show sophisticated carpentry and structural design. The stringer has notches and lashing holes along its whole length which were obviously used to locate and lash other parts of the boat's structure, but the exact nature of those other parts and the connections between them is unknown.

Partial hull reconstruction through duplication and mirror-imaging of the single recovered plank 

The authors of a paper on the find suggest that the part would have had a mirror-image to itself opposite, plus a similar pair of parts extending the hull at least a comparable distance from its butt end. To avoid having the mirror-image parts meet along the hull's "keel" line, where lashings would have been exposed to rapid wear when grounding the boat (an arrangement that, the authors state, is unknown ethnographically), it is necessary to accept another part between them -- call it a keel plank if you will. Although the two ends of the hull need not have been identical, it seems fair to assume that they were of similar length. There is nothing to preclude more sections between the two end pieces, for a much longer hull.

Carving of a sea turtle on the canoe plank

A sea turtle appears carved in relief on the outer surface of the plank. If one assumes that it is depicted swimming forward, then the plank must be from the after part of the hull. Sea turtles are not important in the iconography of the New Zealand Maori, so its carving here is thought to be a lingering transmission from pre-colonization Maori culture, which arrived in New Zealand by way of the Society Islands.

Proposed reconstruction of the Anewaka canoe as a double-hulled voyaging canoe with a single oceanic sprit rig

Relying on internal and ethnographic evidence and historical records, the authors created a reconstruction showing a double-hulled sailing canoe with dissimilar ends, a house aft of amidships, and a steering oar. The single sail is an inverted triangle held by two spars: known as an oceanic sprit rig, this is a tacking rig.

A Tahitian tipaerua, drawn by John Webber

As the authors note, the Tahitian tipaerua has a similar hull configuration, though the sailing rig depicted by John Webber on James Cook's third voyage to the Pacific was different. The authors suggest that the Anewaka canoe and the tipaerua had a common ancestor.

Thanks for Yoram Meroz for alerting us to this item.

With the exception of the final image, all images are from An early sophisticated East Polynesian voyaging canoe discovered on New Zealand's coast by Dilys A Johns, Geoffrey J. Irwin, and Yun K. Sung.

Hōkūleʻa in Bar Harbor, Maine

Hokule'a off Oahu. (Photo: Polynesian Voyaging Society)

Hōkūleʻa is a Hawaiian voyaging canoe in the midst of a multi-year voyage around the world. (We wrote about her previously here.) Launched in 1975, the double-hulled vessel is 62 feet LOA, with a beam of 20 feet and draft of 3 feet. Her hulls are cold molded, but she is considered to be a "performance-accurate" reproduction of the canoes that are thought to have been used by Polynesians to settle much of the Pacific, including Hawaii. Built originally to test theories about Polynesian seafaring techniques and technology, she has since become an ambassador of Polynesian culture and a campaigner for environmental awareness. There's plenty about the vessel, her mission, and her circumnavigation on the website of her owner, the Polynesian Voyaging Society.

We visited Hokule'a this weekend when she stopped in Bar Harbor, Maine. Because she was tied up to a pier with her rig stowed, we couldn't get a good view of what she really looks like, but we did go on board and took photos of some design and construction details. We also talked with Kaleo Wong, navigator on the most recent leg of the boat's voyage, about the mechanics of sailing a double crab-claw rig. (This is literally the first video we have ever done, so please be kind.) 

The blade of the main steering sweep raised from the water.

Lashings between one of the main cross-beams and one of the hulls. The boat is entirely lashed together. There are no mechanical fasteners.

Hokule'a carries two idols on the vertical projections at the stern. On the port side (the female side of the boat) is a female figure. 

On the starboard or male side of the boat is a male figure. Where the female figure has prominent eyes and can see, the male is blind. But he holds a disc that represents the wisdom of the ancestors. Between the two of them, they have the perception and knowledge to guide Hokule'a safely.

Kaleo Wong sitting atop the starboard berth enclosure. There are five or six berths on top of each hull, all in a line, under a narrow sloped tarpaulin "roof," with tarpaulin covers over the entry side as well. Kaleo's feet rest on the starboard steering sweep, which is not steerable: it can only be lowered or raised to change the boat's center of resistance.

The main (center) steering sweep, looking aft.

Another look at the main steering sweep, showing the lashings that hold it in place and serve as its pivot.

Two berths on the port side. There's just room to lie down, or sit up and place your feet over the edge. Accommodations do not look comfortable, and they're probably wet in bad weather. (This side was orderly. The starboard berths were a shambles of unstowed gear. Just sayin'.)

NOTE: We're obliged to Sym (5) and Ars Sonor for free use of the nice ambient music we used for the intro and outro of the video.

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

Capt. Martin's Tahitian Dugouts

While stationed in Tahiti in 1846-47, Capt. Henry Byam Martin, RN, made several sketches and paintings of local watercraft. Here are all of the dugout canoes which show any useful detail as reproduced in his journal. (See the previous post for a more background and Martin's illustration of a double canoe from Tuomoto.)

The dugout canoe in this family portrait appears to have no outrigger, but it does have an interesting bowsprit-like platform, apparently curved from the same log as the hull. The sheer is very flat. (Click any image to enlarge.)

Line fishing from an outrigger paddled canoe. The sheer is quite flat, except for a bit of rise at the bow. The bow itself rises out of the water. The outrigger booms are strongly curved, unlike the booms in most of the images below.

A lovely beach scene with Tahitians fishing with a seine and a canoe pulled up on the shore.

Detail of the above painting, magnified as much as resolution allows.

The forward boom of this outrigger canoe is connected to the outrigger float by struts, while the after boom curves downward to connect to the float directly. The extension of the bow appears to be an addition, not carved from the trunk of the hull.

Another scene in which seine fishing from shore is aided by canoes to bring the net out. Because of the man standing in the water, it's hard to tell if the "bowsprit" belongs to the boat in the foreground or the one behind it. The quadrilateral sail is supported by a mast, boom, and sprit. As in the previous image, the sterns are upturned sharply. 

Detail of the previous image. The bowsprit seems quite thin, and it has no supporting rigging, but is apparently strong enough to support the child's weight without sagging. 

This quicker, looser watercolor sketch shows the same features as the previous few images (upturned stern, plumb bow, "bowsprit," quadrilateral sail with three spars, and outrigger float connected directly to the boom in the rear, and with struts in the front), but adds another detail: multiple shrouds supporting the mast. All of them attach at the same point on the mast. To port, the lower ends attach to the forward outrigger boom at regular intervals. To starboard, they attach to a boom that serves both as an attachment point for the shrouds, and for hiking out (as seen in the next image).

The top boat in this image is very similar to the previous image and may be just a slightly refined version, except that a crewman is clearly seen hiking out on the starboard boom. The arrangement of struts connecting the float to the forward port boom is clear: four struts in two pairs of inverted V's. The bottom boat seems to have elements of Western boat design.

The hulls of the canoes in the background are similar to the preceding ones, but the sailing rig hoists a squaresail: this was probably an adoption of a Western type.

A paddled dugout canoe with a nicely carved cutwater and fine shaping and finishing all over the hull. Its shape is rather different from the paddled dugout shown at the top of this post. The paddle has a teardrop-shaped blade and no end-grip on the shaft. 

Images 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.

A Double Canoe from the Tuamotu Islands

In 1846, the British Admiralty dispatched HMS Grampus, 50 guns, under command of Capt. Henry Byam Martin, RN, to the Society Islands. The French had just named Tahiti a protectorate, to the chagrin of the British (who might earlier have taken the islands for themselves had they been so motivated) and the violent opposition of the Tahitians. Martin's brief was to observe the French activities (i.e., spy) , and if possible throw a wrench in the works of the nascent protectorate through diplomacy with the Tahitian chiefs, while avoiding anything that the French would construe as overtly unfriendly action.

During his year on station, Martin kept a personal journal in which he made numerous watercolor paintings and sketches, and recorded occasional notes, about native watercraft. 

The only native craft he described in detail in the journal was a double canoe visiting from the Pomatoo Islands (now known as the Tuamotus), some 250 miles to the east of Tahiti. Here are his drawings and his description in full. (The original spelling is unchanged.)

Tuamotu double canoe, by Capt. Henry Byam Martin, RN. (Click to enlarge.)

February 22nd, 1847 

Gardner (A.B.) died of dysentery. I heard today sundry evidences of lurking discontent among the people, but it is too late they are subdued -- for the present at least. 

I walked to Taonoa to see a remarkable double canoe from the Pomatoo islands. It is in fact 2 canoes joined together. Each is about 50 feet long by 5 broad. There is not a nail in them. The logs of which they are constructed are sewn together with bark -- and the joinings are close & neat. The upper works or gunwales are of matting. She is schooner rigged with her masts stepped on the thwarts or connecting boards and I am told these craft stand a great deal of bad weather. Thirty eight persons crossed in her from Pomotoo -- about 250 miles. They seem to be families who have come to see what is to be seen and picked up. The women & children are hideous -- they have thrown up some huts round their canoe, which is hauled up high & dry. 

These people had with them a curious bat or vampire, which I would have bought if he had stunk a little less. The head, in size form & colour much resembled a ferret's. Each foot had 5 claws -- its wings were of great spread & each had at its extremity a claw or hook. I believe this animal is called the flying fox.

Tuamoto double canoe, plan view.

Even aside from its sewn construction, the canoe is remarkable. Most double canoes have their hulls separated by cross-beams, but this one has the hulls right up against each other. Separated hulls impose great stresses on the cross-beams and on the attachments between the cross-beams and the hulls. These stresses are minimized by placing the hulls next to one another, but I suspect this merely substitutes one engineering problem for another. In this configuration, the hulls themselves, and their sewn fastenings, would be subject to great stress as they press against each other. Since it is unlikely that the hulls had internal frames,  it's hard to fathom how these large sewn hulls did not crush one another as the boat worked in a seaway. Evidently, they did not.

On first glance, the larger drawing appears to show the canoe's bow, with graceful double beakheads. But as I pondered the huge, strangely-shaped bowsprit, I realized that we're looking at the stern, and the "bowsprit" is actually a steering oar. On closer examination, the "beakheads" are supporting a cambered wooden deck.

The platform running the whole length of the outside of the starboard hull looks like a fine place to relax when sailing in good conditions. It's supported by numerous timbers which presumably go right through the hull, although they are not shown in Martin's simple plan view. The hulls appear to be covered with draped woven matting (probably of pandanus leaves) which serves for weather protection, in place of a permanent house structure.

Martin says the boat was schooner rigged, and this appears so much the case that it's a little baffling. At that time, Tahitians were adopting elements of Western rigs piecemeal to their canoes (of which, more in a future post), and it's surprising that the even more remotely-situated Tuamotans would be using a schooner rig that any contemporary New Englander would have recognized. In any case, the foremast appears to be shorter than the mainmast, but this may be a trick of perspective and the two might be equal in height. The foremast appears to have a gaff, and the mainmast a horizontal boom.

The baskets and other items hanging from the rigging were probably for food storage, to keep them away from vermin and surreptitious snitching by unauthorized crew.

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.

Hawaiian Double Canoes

Two types of boats were prevalent in pre-European-contact Hawaii: the single-outrigger canoe and the twin-hull, or double, canoe. Outrigger canoes were far more numerous, performing most everyday functions such as fishing, personal transportation, and local trade. The larger, more expensive double canoes were owned by the social elite and were used for war, ceremony, deep-sea voyaging for larger-scale missions of trade or exploration, and to display the owner's prestige. 

Three double canoes visiting Capt. James Cook on his third Pacific expedition. The sailing canoe holds several dozen crew and passengers, including "Tereboo, King of Owyhee, bringing presents to Captain Cook." (Click any image to enlarge.)

An average-size double canoe of the mid-19th century was about 48 feet (14 m) long and 6'7" (2 m) in beam, with each hull being about 1'7" (0.5 m) wide. Far larger ones existed, though: Capt. James Cook's third voyage to Hawaii (1776-80) reported the largest as being 70' LOA with a 12' beam. The longest ever recorded was 108' LOA: since all double-canoe hulls were carved, dugout-style, from single trunks, this would have required a pair of extraordinary trees. Complements of several dozen were probably typical, although crews as large as 120-140 men were reported. 

King Kamehameha's canoe, from a drawing by Admiral Paris. Note six full cross-booms, a partial boom at the forward end of the platform, the mast step (which does not sit atop a cross-boom), and the bowsprit.

Compared to modern twin-hull vessels, Hawaiian double canoes were quite narrow, with a typical length:width ratio of 7.2:1 or 7.3:1. By keeping the hulls close and the cross-booms between them short, wracking forces that would tend to break the structure apart were minimized. A cargo platform, which was fastened to the cross-booms between the hulls, was necessarily narrow, restricting the canoe's carrying capacity. In the average-size canoe mentioned above, the platform was a bit over 32' (10.4 m) long and averaged only about 1'7" (0.5 m) wide. Although the distance between the hulls was about 3' (0.9 m), the platform could not span that entire width: space had to be left between each hull and the platform so that the crew could paddle on the inboard sides of the hulls. 

A cross-section of an almond-shaped hull. The cross-brace (3) is held in sockets on the inside of the hull, and provides an anchor for the heavy lashings that secure the cross-boom (4). (The lashings are poorly drawn: it's impossible to tell how they terminate or where their lower ends lead.) This boat is unusual in having two washstrakes.

The hulls were most often carved from native koa, a.k.a. Hawaiian mahogany (Acacia koa), although Oregon pine, which occasionally showed up as driftwood, was used to make the largest boats. The hulls were symmetrical and as close in size and shape to one another as possible. On most hulls, the sides were usually fairly straight, transitioning rather quickly at the bilge to a rounded bottom, although some hulls had a somewhat almond-shaped cross section. During carving, cleats were left standing proud some inches below the top edge of the dugout hull to serve as fastening points for spreaders, which served mainly to anchor the lashings for the cross-booms. 

The fairly rough model shows the double-curved cross-booms that were typical of later canoes. Compare to the straight cross-booms in the line drawing above.

The booms, which ranged in number from as few as 3 to probably more than 6 for the largest boats, rested atop the upper edge of the dugout hull and passed through the bottom edge of washstrakes, which raised freeboard by several inches. Older canoe examples mostly show straight cross-booms, with later ones having booms that curve upward amidships, raising the cargo platform higher above the water. These double-curved timbers were gotten from branches of the hau tree (Hibiscus tiliaceus). 

A double-rabbeted joint between the hull (b) and the washstrake (a:). The exterior of the hull is at the bottom of the illustration. The sennit lashing (c) is almost entirely protected on the exterior.

The lower edge of the washstrake was rabbeted to fit over the upper edge of the base (i.e., the gunwale surface of the dugout hull), with the outer edge of the washstrake extending a bit wide of the base. Sometimes the upper edge of the base was also rabbeted. Lashings of sennit held the washstrakes to the base, with holes bored so that very little of the lashing was exposed on the exterior. 

Elaborately carved end-pieces extended the washstrakes on each side and curved into the horizontal to form end-decks. The smaller spatulate terminal in (a) was typical of most double canoes; the larger device in (b) was more prestigious. 

The washstrakes were cut off square at the ends. They were continued into the ends of the hulls by carefully-carved pieces that transitioned from the vertical into the horizontal plane to serve as end-decks and ended in vertical, spatulate terminals. The two mirror-image pieces which closed in each end were lashed together along the hull's centerline. 

This model was made under Admiral Paris's supervision, but according to Haddon and Hornell, it contains several mistakes. Note the straight cross-booms, "ram" ends that extend beyond the washstrakes (unlike the line drawing); rigging details of forestay, shrouds, mainsheet, and a line bending the upper end of the sprit toward the masthead.

A single, fixed mast was stepped on the center platform, and while it would have been stronger to place it directly above a cross-boom, this was not always done. (Some early reports stated that the mast was stepped in one of the hulls, but this was apparently not the norm. It may have been an expedient when two single-hull canoes where fastened together to form a temporary double canoe.) The boom – really a sprit – was fastened at a sharp upward angle near the base of the mast, and a cord was used to bend its upper end in toward the masthead. Masts were supported by backstays, shrouds and, in at least some cases, by a forestay to a short bowsprit. A single sheet was fastened about mid-way up the sprit. The sail had a crab-claw shape and was made of woven matting. Lengths of matting were also used to cover the hulls in rough weather, with holes left for the paddlers, who sat on thwarts. 

Propulsion paddle (a) and steering paddle (b)

Paddling was the preferred form of propulsion in almost all circumstances: indeed, with the mast stepped so far forward, sailing would have been problematic in any but a downwind direction. Propulsion paddles, carved from single pieces of koa, were about 5' (1.5 m) long, with large blades and no grip. Steering paddles were substantially bigger in all dimensions and had a T-grip. All paddlers in each hull paddled on the same side. A rapid pace was maintained, and on a signal from a "stroke" paddler in the bow (three raps with his paddle against the hull), all paddlers would switch sides.

For more on Hawaiian double canoes, see our previous post on the reproduction voyaging canoe Hokule'a.

(All images and the majority of content for this post are from Canoes of Oceania , A.C. Haddon and James Hornell.)

Pacific Voyaging Canoes Make it to California

Six traditional double-hull Polynesian voyaging canoes that have been sailing around the Pacific since April entered San Francisco Bay on Tuesday. A few more details on their arrival here, and a full description of the project on the Pacific Voyagers website.

Austronesian Rigs Simplified

Dozens of rig types have been identified in Austronesian maritime cultures (see this post for an illustration showing a large selection) -- so many, in fact, that it led to confusion and dispute about which types were related to, or ancestral to, others. And since anthropologists often view the diffusion of technology as a means of analyzing cultural origins, that confusion served as both cause and effect for disputes about how the Pacific came to be populated.

In Wangka: Austronesian Canoe Origins, Edwin Dorran, Jr., took a stab at grouping the principal Austronesian sail types into nine categories. As shown below, these nine actually group into two classes: sprit rigs (A-F) and lug rigs (G, H, I). The following brief descriptions are derived from Dorran's text, using Dorran's names for each. (Dorran assigned names as a matter of convenience in the discussion; he acknowledged that many of them were known by a variety of other names.)

A. Double spritsail. Confined to a few locations in the Indian Ocean at the time of publication (1981). Both spars are sprits -- there is no mast on this rig (and arguably, none on any of the sprit rigs described). As shown in the photo below, both sprits hold up only a corner of the rectangular sail. Possibly the grandfather type of all Austronesian sprit rigs.

B. Common spritsail: rig appears with and without the boom. Essentially identical to the European sprit rig.

C., D., E.: Oceanic spritsail: D and E differ only in the angle of the after sprit, which, if horizontal enough, can be termed a boom, as in E. Type D, pictured below, was by far the most common at the time of writing.

Dorran considers Type C (pictured below) to be "an extreme form of the basic Oceanic spritsail," because it meets his definition of a spritsail, viz: "Spritsails are supported on two spars with are close together or touching at the lower end and divergent to two sail corners aloft." To me, this is putting the horse before the cart. Even if the rig shown meets the definition (debatable), I would argue that the definition is fairly meaningless if it encompasses a sail so manifestly different in shape, type, and most likely, origin. (As Dorran notes, David Lewis called this an "inverted, triangular sail" and classed it among a category of "claw" sails with "a deeply incurved free edge".)

F. Crane spritsail: The word "crane" is being used like the hoisting machine, not the bird. Dorran argues persuasively that this is not a variant of the lateen sail. Where all the other rigs shown here are "tacking" rigs, this one is the famous Pacific "shunting" rig. The additional spar pivots fore-and-aft at the base, so that the entire rig can switch ends in the boat, allowing the canoe to switch directions relative to the wind while always keeping its (single) outrigger float to windward. In the photo below, there is a platform on the boat's lee side, on which crew (in this case) or cargo can be placed as a counterweight against the outrigger.

G. Rectangular boom lugsail.
H. Square boom lugsail
I Trapezial boom lugsail

Dorran believes these three are closely related, and that the different sail shapes represent a fairly minor distinction. He includes the term "boom" in the name to distinguish them from lugs without booms and from those with sail battens (i.e., Chinese junk-style sails).

All illustrations in this post are from Dorran, except of the double sprit rig photo, provided by boat designer Michael Schacht, editor of the blog Proafile, about all things proa. Many thanks Michael!

The Hawaiian Double Canoe Hokule'a

Hokule'a is without a doubt the most famous Hawaiian double canoe in existence. After a rough start beset by political and personal conflicts that nearly wrecked the project, she has gone on to complete many impressive voyages, the last one in 2007. Owned by the Polynesian Voyaging Society (PVS), she serves as an icon of native Hawaiin culture and a training platform for teaching traditional navigation and seamanship.

Hokule'a had her start around 1973, when Ben R. Finney, an anthropologist with an interest in the settlement of the Pacific islands, decided to scale up from a smaller, self-funded double canoe on which he had begun his investigations of the type. As described in his book Hokule'a: The Way to Tahiti, his original motivation was primarily scientific: to test whether the double canoe type had sufficient windward sailing capability to have made feasible the intentional colonization of the Pacific from west to east. This was in contrast to countervailing views that the colonization was either unintentional -- a result of unplanned drift voyages by castaways -- or that it had occurred from east to west, starting from the South American continent. (This latter theory was promoted by Thor Heyerdahl.)

Finney and his early partners founded the Polynesian Voyaging Society to help organize and fund the project but, according to Finney, the organization and the project were hijacked by nativist Hawaiians who wanted to use the canoe to promote Hawaiian cultural identity. Finney felt that the two objectives were almost entirely incompatible, and his book concentrates mostly on the resulting conflicts. (He acknowledges, however, that his narrative is quite one-sided.) The book is a tale of a terribly-managed project that just barely managed to fulfill its original goals in the face of tremendous personnel problems. Along with insubordination, there were fistfights and threats of mutiny.

Somehow, the Polynesian Voyaging Society turned the situation around later, and Hokule'a has clocked more than 32,000 sea miles on a half a dozen voyages, visiting most areas of the Pacific, mostly on cultural missions. (A circumnavigation is apparently in the planning stages!) Finney's name is hard to find in any context on the PVS website: he doesn't appear to be currently associated with the PVS, and it wouldn't surprise me if he dropped out immediately following the first awful voyage and has been placed under a taboo by the organization. PVS seems to be almost exclusively concerned with using the boat as a way to champion cultural identify -- there is very little about serious science on their website.

(In addition to the PVS website, much information on Hokule'a may be found on Wikipedia, although the article appears to hew closely to the PVS orthodoxy and gives little credit to Finney.)

The boat itself is unusual and impressive. The PVS calls her a "performance-accurate" replica, meaning that she is believed to perform like the traditional boats she resembles. Construction-wise, however, she's quite different. The hulls are cold-molded, with several intermediate bulkheads, rather than carved from single huge trunks. (PVS has subsequently built another canoe, Hawai'iloa, from huge Alaskan cedars -- about as close to the original construction as is possible at this time, since Hawaiian koa logs of the necessary size are no longer obtainable.) Steering is done with steering oars, which do not pivot side to side; direction is controlled by simply lowering the oars into the water or raising them out of it. With an LOA of 62'4" and beam of 17'6", she is much narrower than a modern catamaran of the same length but in keeping with the traditional configuration, which was narrow "due primarily to the limited ability of the wooden cross-pieces and coconut fiber lashing to withstand the phenomenal stress the ocean imposes on a widetrack double-hull craft," according to Tommy Holmes in The Hawaiian Canoe.

Her original rig was a very modest 540 square feet of sail area on two crab-claw (spritsail) masts, which gives her performance on the order of 3 or 4 knots upwind, and 5 or 6 downwind . She is capable of tacking to within 70 or 75 degrees of the wind -- comparable to the pointing ability of square-rigged ships -- which, based on the results of the first voyage, from Hawaii to Tahiti, was sufficient to have allowed double canoes to have indeed colonized Polynesia in an intentional effort of exploration and settlement.

(All images in this article from PVS website.)