|
Popular perceptions of global exploration, in large part, still reflect
a world view held by early European cartographers and geographers. The
traditional heroes include Christopher Columbus, Ferdinand Magellan and
Captain James Cook. On the other hand, a reference to Kupe, Hotu Matu'a
and Mo'ikeha, legendary voyagers who sailed by 1000 AD to, respectively,
the distant islands of New Zealand, Easter Island and Hawai'i, would
probably evoke no recognition. When European explorers first ventured into the Pacific they were
surprised to find that island after island was occupied by thriving
societies of people still living in the age of stone. These wanderers from
another ocean had themselves just developed ocean-spanning technology, yet
they found that islanders lacking metal, and above all ships and
navigational instruments, had preceded them into the Pacific.
Where did these people come from, and how did they reach the far
islands? Answering these questions has occupied amateur and professional
scholars over the last four centuries. It has been a highly
interdisciplinary effort: linguists, archaeologists, anthropologists,
folklorists, historians, ethnobotanists, oceanographers, and other
specialists have applied their talents to the puzzle. However, what really
distinguishes this inquiry is that Polynesians have recently joined in the
quest - with a significant difference. They address the problem not as
outsiders simply intrigued by an intellectual puzzle, but as descendants
of a long lineage of seafarers who explored and settled the Pacific.
Focusing upon the voyaging canoe, the artifact that made the migration
possible, Hawaiians, Tahitians, New Zealand and Cook Island Maori, and
other Pacific Islanders have begun to reconstruct their ancient craft and
sail them over the long seaways of the Pacific in order to rediscover
their oceanic heritage.
Polynesians: An Oceanic People
Through a multi-disciplinary effort, recently enhanced by the contributions of
modern Polynesians eager to experience their past, a picture is emerging of the
development of a seafaring culture oriented toward oceanic exploration.
The islands scattered along the north shore of New Guinea first drew these
canoe people eastwards into the ocean. By 1500 B.C., these voyagers began moving
east beyond New Guinea, first along the Solomon Island chain, and then to the
Banks and Vanuatu Archipelagos. As the gaps between islands grew from tens of
miles at the edge of the western Pacific to hundreds of miles along the way to
Polynesia, and then to thousands of miles in the case of voyages to the far
corners of the Polynesian triangle, these oceanic colonizers developed great
double-hulled vessels capable of carrying colonists as well as all their
supplies, domesticated animals, and planting materials. As the voyages became
longer, they developed a highly sophisticated navigation system based on
observations of the stars, the ocean swells, the flight patterns of birds and
other natural signs to find their way over the open ocean. And, as they moved
farther away from the biotic centers of Southeast Asia and New Guinea, finding
the flora and fauna increasingly diminished, they developed a portable
agricultural system, whereby the domesticated plants and animals were carried in
their canoes for transplantation on the islands they found.
Once they had reached the mid-ocean archipelagos of Fiji, Tonga, and Samoa,
these seafarers - the immediate ancestors of the Polynesians - were alone in the
ocean, for only they had the canoes and navigational skills needed to push so
far into the Pacific. The gaps between islands widen greatly in the eastern
Pacific and the prevailing winds become less and less favorable for sailing to
the east. Nonetheless, the archaeological evidence indicates that they sailed
eastward to the Cook, Society, and Marquesas Groups, and from there crossed
thousands of miles of open ocean to colonize the islands of Hawai'i in the
north, Easter Island in the southeast, and New Zealand in the southwest, thus
completing settlement, by around 1000 AD, of the area we know today as the
Polynesian Triangle.
When the Southeast Asian sailors started out on their odyssey they were not
yet identifiably Polynesian. Only after many years of learning how to voyage
long distances, and to survive on the high islands and atolls they found in the
sea, did the ocean-oriented Polynesian culture take on its classic form. In addition to a highly developed sailing and navigational technology, that
cullture included a uniquely oceanic world view and a social structure well
adapted to voyaging and colonization. Polynesian societies combined a strong
authority structure based on genealogical ranking that was useful for mounting
long expeditions and founding island colonies.
The Voyaging Canoe The Polynesians' primary voyaging craft was the double canoe made of two
hulls connected by lashed crossbeams. The two hulls gave this craft stability
and the capacity to carry heavy loads of migrating families and all their
supplies and equipment, while a central platform laid over the crossbeams
provided the needed working, living, and storage space. Sails made of matting
drove this ancient forerunner of the modern catamaran swiftly through the seas,
and long steering paddles enabled Polynesian mariners to keep it sailing on
course.
A medium-size voyaging canoe 50 to 60 feet long could accomodate two dozen or
so migrants, their food supplies, livestock, and planting materials.
European Explorers
The early European explorers who first encountered the Polynesians could not
believe that a stone age people, with only simple sailing canoes and no
navigational instruments, could themselves have discovered and settled the
mid-Pacific islands. Accordingly, they dreamed up elaborate theories that
explained the presence of the Polynesians in the middle of the Pacific, while
denying to them the ability of having reached there through their own sailing
abilities. For example, in 1595 the Spanish explorer Quiros imagined a great
"Southern Continent" stretching from Asia far into the Pacific across
which their ancestors walked to a point from which, by a short canoe crossing,
they could reach the Marquesas. Other early explorers invoked sunken continents,
transport by the first Spanish voyagers, and even special creation of the
islands to explain the presence of Polynesians in the middle of the Pacific.
Not until the late eighteenth century with the coming of Europe's second Age
of Exploration did a reasonable hypothesis about where the Polynesians came
from, and how they managed to discover and settle their island world, begin to
emerge. Whereas explorers of the previous European age of exploration were
primarily searching for new routes to the riches of Asia, those of this second
age sailed the seas primarily, in Braudel's words, "to obtain new
information about geography, the natural world, and the mores of different
peoples." In the Pacific, the leaders of this new approach to oceanic
exploration criss-crossed the ocean, finding and mapping the locations of
islands, cataloguing the plants and animals found there, and investigating the
islanders, their language, and customs. Only then was the true extent of
Polynesia realized, and was credence given to the idea that the ancestors of the
Polynesians could have intentionally sailed into this great ocean to find and
settle so many scattered islands.
Captain James Cook Captain James Cook, who is considered by many to have been the greatest of
the explorers in this second age of European global expansion, was the first to
realize and document that a vast region of the Pacific was occupied by people
who shared a common cultural base. Cook was also the first European explorer to
consider seriously that the Polynesians could have intentionally explored and
settled their island world without the aid of a nearby Southern Continent,
Spanish ships, divine intervention, or other external agencies. "How shall
we account for this Nation spreading itself so far over this Vast ocean?"
is the question Cook asks in his journal when in l778, on his third and last
voyage, he chanced upon Hawai'i and its inhabitants, and so realized that the
Polynesian nation extended north of the equator as well as for a considerable
distance across the South Pacific. Cook did not live to answer that question
fully, as he met an untimely end on the shores of Kealakekua Bay, Hawai'i.
Nonetheless, the seeds for his theory of Polynesian settlement, one that takes
into account the nautical abilities of the Polynesians, can be found in an
earlier journal entry dating back to l769.
That year, while on his first voyage into the Pacific, Cook stopped four
months in Tahiti to observe the transit of Venus across the face of the sun as
part of an international effort to determine the distance between the Earth and
Sun. During his stay in Tahiti, Cook did something no previous European explorer
to touch on a Polynesian island had ever done: he learned the basics of the
local language, and then he used his rudimentary linguistic skills to ask how
the islanders sailed and navigated their canoes, and where they voyaged. His
primary guide in local nautical matters was Tupa'ia, a learned Tahitian who
befriended the expedition. Tupa'ia was able to explain how the Tahitians sailed
their canoes and navigated by reference to the sun, moon, and stars, and to
provide information on islands immediately surrounding Tahiti as well as those a
considerable distance away.
Cook, in turn, was impressed enough with both the practical seamanship and
navigational skills of the Tahitians, and their wide geographical knowledge, to
accept that which had been unthinkable to earlier European voyagers: that the
ancestors of these islanders must have sailed into the Pacific on their own,
covering great distances in their canoes, orienting themselves by observing the
celestial bodies. Unfortunately, Cook never developed his thoughts beyond a few
lines in his journal, which include elements basic to a modern theory of
Polynesian settlement: an acceptance that Tahitian canoes were seaworthy and
capable of sailing at least "two or three hundred leagues" (600 to 900
nautical miles), that the Tahitians had a "compass" provided by the
sun, moon and stars and that they used this to orient themselves at sea, and
that their ancestors could have employed this technology to move, from island to
island, all the way from the "East Indias" (roughly modern Indonesia)
to Tahiti.
Cook chose the "East Indias" as the origin point for the Polynesian
migration because a linguistic Sailing with Cook as his botanist was Joseph
Banks, who had studied philology at Oxford, and who later was to become
president of the Royal Society. On board the ship was a small library containing
published accounts of previous voyages through the Pacific, and in these
accounts were short lists of words from islands scattered from Southeast Asia
eastwards into the Pacific as far as the the western edge of Polynesia. By
comparing the list of Tahitian words he compiled with these other vocabularies,
Banks was able to show how Tahitian was directly related to languages spread
across the Pacific to the Southeast Asian islands of the "East
Indias."
Cook saw only one obstacle to accepting a Polynesian origin in island
Southeast Asia: the proposed migration trail led through tropical latitudes, and
in the tropics easterly trade winds normally prevail. Whereas these would make
it relatively easy for voyagers from South America to sail westward with the
wind into the Pacific, steady trade winds would seem to present a formidable
obstacle for any voyagers sailing eastward across the ocean. Yet, because he saw
no cultural resemblance between the islanders he had met and the native
Americans, Cook rejected the idea of an American origin of the Polynesians. The
trail of linguistic evidence clearly marked the direction of migration, and he
therefore sought to explain how canoe voyagers could have moved eastward into
the Pacific against the direction of the trade winds.
Tupa'ia supplied the solution to this apparent dilemma: he told the puzzled
Cook that during the months of November, December, and January the trades
frequently died down and were replaced by spells of westerly winds, and that the
Tahitians then used these westerly winds to sail to the east. From that crucial
bit of intelligence, Cook constructed his seaman's explanation for how Polynesia
was settled from the west that takes into account both the oceanic environment
and Polynesian nautical abilities: the early voyagers worked their way eastward
from the Asian side of the Pacific, moving from island to island, by exploiting
seasonal westerly wind reversals.
Linguistic
Evidence/Oral Traditions
Until the development of modern archaeological research programs in Hawai'i
and New Zealand during the 1950s, the most prominent lines of inquiry into the
Polynesian settlement issue involved the study of the languages of the Pacific
and the tales Polynesians told of the voyaging exploits and migrational feats of
their ancestors.
Joseph Banks and James Cook used word comparisons to establish that the
languages spoken on different Polynesian islands were nearly identical, and that
these languages were related to those stretching across the Pacific to Southeast
Asia. In his journal, for example, Banks lists Tahitian and New Zealand Maori
words side by side to show that the two languages are nearly identical, and then
(using lists of words from languages in Melanesia and Indonesia) uses the same
method of vocabulary comparison to trace a linguistic relationship westward all
the way to Southeast Asia.
Subsequent explorers and the scientists who sailed with them collected more
island vocabularies and extended these comparisons, while philologists in Europe
and America systematically compared the languages of the Pacific and Southeast
Asia. Their findings confirmed that Cook and Banks had been on the right trail.
All the languages of the Pacific islands (except those spread over the interiors
of New Guinea and adjacent islands) were indeed related and formed part of a
great language family centered in island Southeast Asia. They also confirmed
that this language family was not only spread over the Pacific Ocean, but had
also been carried across the Indian Ocean to this great island of Madagascar off
the African coast. As such, these linguists established the existence of what
was the most widely spread language family in the world until Europeans began to
sail beyond the Mediterranean and North Atlantic.
Today this group of related languages is usually referred to as the
Austronesian family. The spreading of this language family by seafarers from
Southeast Asia seemed obvious to the linguists and other students of the
problem, simply because everywhere that Austronesian languages were spoken there
were also ocean-going canoes.
Oral Traditions
While language studies support the theory of Cook and Banks that the
Polynesians originated there, these studies did not shed much light on the
precise location of the original homeland, or on the migrational routes followed
in entering and then spreading over the Pacific, nor could they say anything
about how the Polynesians had been able to sail so far into the ocean. During
the late 1800s and early 1900s a major effort was mounted to examine the
traditions of epic voyages told by the islanders themselves in hopes that they
could provide the clues needed to reconstruct the Polynesian migration.
Scholars working in New Zealand, for example, found a wealth of traditions
about the discovery of their land, and the coming of colonizing canoes from
Hawaiki, the legendary homeland which these scholars identified with the Society
and Cook Islands. In contrast, those working in Hawai'i found in Hawaiian
traditions a wealth of tales connecting Hawai'i with Kahiki, which, arguably, is
the Hawaiian way of pronouncing Tahiti. These are not just about single voyages,
but tell of the adventures of chiefs and priests who sailed repeatedly back and
forth between the two centers. One of the best known of these legends is that
which tells of eight different voyages made by Mo'ikeha, a chief who lived
(according to genealogical reckoning) sometime around the 12th century, and his
sons.
Professional anthropologists began to study the Polynesian problem in earnest
during the period between the two world wars. Through surveying the remains of
stone temples and other structures, and comparing the cultural traits and
physical characteristics of the islanders, these anthropologists sought to shed
further light on Polynesian origins, but with little success. Without a program
of sub-surface archaeology to work out the routes, sequences, and chronologies
of settlement, and without a method for finding out how the Polynesians could
have sailed and navigated over such a great expanse of ocean, Polynesian studies
were stalled.
Heyerdahl
and Sharp
A Norwegian adventurer, followed by a New Zealand historian, burst into the
otherwise quiet arena of Polynesian studies with pronouncements that the
generally accepted ideas about origins and settlement were all wrong. Like some
of the earliest European explorers in the Pacific, these writers doubted
Polynesian seafaring capabilities and developed theories of Polynesian
settlement that depended upon the vagaries of wind and current rather than the
skills of the voyagers themselves.
In 1947, Thor Heyerdahl drifted on a raft made of balsa wood logs from Peru
to the Tuamotu Islands on the eastern edge of Polynesia to prove that these
craft, once used by South American Indians, could have carried migrants to
Polynesia. Heyerdahl needed this demonstration to support his theory that the
first people to Polynesia came from the east, from South America. He claimed
that it would have been impossible for early canoe voyagers to have sailed
directly eastward from island Southeast Asia against what he called the
"permanent trade winds and forceful companion currents of the enormous
Southern Hemisphere" to reach Polynesian waters and discover and settle the
islands there. Therefore, he concluded that Polynesia must have been first
settled by people from the west coast of the Americas who sailed and drifted
eastward into the Pacific before wind and current.
A few years after Heyerdahl publicized his theory, Andrew Sharp, New Zealand
historian, wrote a book entitled Ancient Voyagers in the Pacific, in which he
claimed that the vision of the Polynesians as great voyagers who had set out to
explore and settle the Pacific was nothing but romantic nonsense. Although Sharp
accepted that Polynesia had been colonized from the west, he proposed that the
settlement was simply the product of many accidental voyages which had moved the
Polynesians slowly westward across the Pacific and then throughout the
Polynesian triangle. Sharp claimed that the canoes of the Polynesians were not
seaworthy enough, and their navigational methods were not accurate enough, to
have enabled them to intentionally set out to explore and colonize the Pacific.
Sharp declared that all voyaging and island settlement was
"accidental" for islands farther than 300 miles from their nearest
neighbor.
Distant islands could only have been discovered and settled, he said, by the
chance arrival of unintentional voyagers - who, because of storms or
navigational incompetence had strayed far off course while making a short
crossing between closely-spaced islands, or who, after fleeing from their home
island because of famine or defeat in war, had been drifting blindly around the
ocean hoping to land on an uninhabited island.
The
Archaeological Response
Of Thor Heyerdahl and Andrew Sharp's attacks on Polynesian settlement orthodoxy,
Heyerdahl's drew the most public attention. Expert opinion was, however, almost
universally against Heyerdahl's thesis, for he brought forth no solid evidence
for settlement from the Americas and ignored all that in favor of an ultimate
origin in Southeast Asia. Nevertheless, it soon became evident that Heyerdahl
had uncovered a major weakness in orthodox thinking. The archaeological
excavations and analyses of recovered materials that were needed to establish
definitively that the ancestral Polynesians had migrated from island Southeast
Asia to Polynesia simply had not been done. There was no firm archaeological
evidence as to whether the ancestral Polynesians had passed through Melanesia or
Micronesia on their way to Polynesia, much less as to where in Southeast Asia
they originated. The picture was grossly incomplete, and Heyerdahl was not
remiss in pointing this out.
The findings of the archaeological work subsequently conducted throughout
Polynesia and in Melanesia have not been kind to Heyerdahl's theory of American
origins. Through their excavations and analyses of artifacts and other recovered
materials, archaeologists were able to develop a model of Polynesian settlement
that demonstrated the eastward movement into the Pacific of ancestral
Polynesians, located the "true" homeland of the Polynesians on the
western edge of Polynesia itself, outlined population dispersion within the
Polynesian triangle, and demonstrated the lack of evidence of any noticeable
population movement from the Americas to Polynesia.
The discovery of a distinctively decorated type of pottery called Lapita
provided the first solid evidence of the general route by which the ancestors of
the Polynesians migrated into the Pacific. The Lapita cultural complex, made up
of his pottery and associated artifacts, began turning up in excavations from
islands extending from the islands off the northeast coast of New Guinea to
archipelagos at the western edge of Polynesia. These sites, with their
distinctive artifacts, not only demonstrated that the ancestral Polynesians
sailed through Melanesia, and not Micronesia as some had proposed, but also
indicated that it probably took them no more than a few hundred years to move
from island to island through Melanesia to Fiji, Tonga, and Samoa, some 2,000
miles east of their starting point off New Guinea.
There followed the realization that the long-sought Polynesian homeland was
not outside the Pacific, but was really within Polynesia itself. The Lapita
voyagers were seen as ancestral to, but not yet identifiably Polynesian. Not
until they began to adapt to life in the isolated mid-Pacific archipelagos of
Fiji, Tonga, and Samoa do sites there indicate that the distinctively Polynesian
cultural complex begins to emerge from its Lapita roots.
The archaeological record then showed that the movement eastward across the
Pacific continued, with the central archipelagos of East Polynesia being settled
from these West
Polynesian Migration RoutesPolynesian centers. The Marquesas Islands were
reached between 200 BC and 300 AD, and although the evidence is so far lacking,
some archaeologists believe that the Cook and Society Islands may have been
settled from West Polynesia even earlier. Then, from this nuclear region of East
Polynesia, voyagers explored the length and breadth of the Polynesian triangle,
reaching the distant islands of Hawai'i (by at least 400-500 AD), Easter Island
(by about 400 AD), and New Zealand (around 1000 AD) to complete the settlement
of Polynesia.
Despite major programs of archaeological excavation in Hawai'i, the
Marquesas, Easter Island (including some work sponsored by Heyerdahl), and other
islands facing the Americas, no potsherds from South America or other
identifiably native American artifacts have been found. At prehistoric levels,
the cultural materials are thoroughly Polynesian. The only definite evidence
that points to the possibility of human contact between the Americas and
Polynesia is the presence in Polynesia of the sweet potato, a plant indigenous
to South America. In 1990, archaeologist Dr. Patrick Kirch found sweet potatoes
in the Cook Islands dating back to 1000 AD, thus confirming the early
introduction of these plants in central Polynesia. Whether they were brought on
a raft from South America (and then spread around Polynesian by canoe), or
whether some intrepid Polynesians sailed all the way to South America and
carried sweet potatoes on the return voyage, remains unanswered.
Fragments of canoes were found in caves and swamps. One such find appears to
be from a deep-sea voyaging canoe. Dr. Yoshihiko Sinoto of Honolulu's Bishop
Museum, found the remains of an ancient voyaging canoe that had been buried in
the mud when a tsunami struck the island of Huahine, near Tahiti, sometime
between 850 and 1100 AD.
The distribution of domesticated plants and animals across Polynesia at the
time of European contact, and archaeological evidence of the early introduction
of these, lends credence to the idea that this migration was intentional. All
the Polynesian food plants except the sweet potato - notably taro, bananas,
yams, breadfruit, and sugar cane - and the three domesticated animals - the pig,
dog, and chicken - come from the Asian side of the Pacific. Most Polynesian
islands have these domesticates, which suggests that colonization was
intentional since accidental drift voyagers were not likely to have carried all
the plants and animals with them on short inter-island trips or fishing
expeditions. The presence of pig, dog, and chicken bones at the lower levels of
a number of early archaeological sites, along with indirect evidence of the use
of domesticated plants, testifies further to the probability that voyagers
carried with them the species needed for colonization, and that they were not
introduced piecemeal by a long series of random drift voyages.
Experimental
Voyaging
While Thor Heyerdahl's theory of American origins found little acceptance in
scholarly circles, Andrew Sharp's theory of accidental settlement was seen by
many anthropologists, archaeologists, and historians as a welcome correction to
an overblown image of Polynesians as great voyagers and colonizers. Instead of
accepting what seemed to them to be superhuman sailing and navigational skills,
by following Sharp's model of accidental settlement, all these scholars had to
assume was that the Polynesians had enough seafaring ability to put themselves
at risk of being randomly pushed around the Pacific by the vagaries of wind and
current.
Not all students of Polynesia embraced Sharp's theory of accidental
settlement, however. They felt that not only had Sharp arrogantly denied to the
Polynesians their due as ingenious canoe designers and builders, and skilled
seamen and navigators, but that in labelling the process of settlement as
accidental he had without foundation denied to the Polynesians and their
ancestors any volition in the shaping of their own destiny as colonizers of a
vast Pacific realm.
However, as the debate over Sharp's thesis continued in the late 1950s and
early 1960s, it became clear that the information needed to refute or confirm
Sharp was simply not there. The voyaging canoes and traditional navigators had
long since disappeared from Polynesian waters, victims of the radical
transformation of Polynesian societies over the last two centuries. The debate
therefore was primarily being conducted with information on Polynesian canoes,
navigation methods, and voyaging accomplishments penned by the explorers and
other early European visitors to Polynesia. Since these writers typically had
neither the time, language skills, nor motivation to investigate these topics
thoroughly, their writings on these subjects were sketchy and often ambiguous.
Disputants could often pick from this literature whatever observations or
opinions supported their case, and their opponents could do likewise, with the
predictable result that the debate produced little in the way of new insights,
much less any definitive answers.
New approaches were needed to break out of this impasse. A few adventuresome
researchers sought to find out exactly how Polynesian canoes sailed, and how the
non-instrument navigation system worked, by reconstructing the canoes and ways
of navigating, and then testing them on long voyaging routes between Polynesian
islands.
This experimental effort got underway in the mid-l960s. David Lewis, a
physician turned voyaging researcher, navigated his catamaran from Tahiti to New
Zealand without instruments in order to test the feasibility of using star
observations made with the naked eye to guide a vessel over thousands of miles
of open ocean. By following Kupe's legendary sailing instructions to a landfall
on New Zealand's North Island within 30 miles of where he expected to sight
land, Lewis demonstrated the quality of Polynesian methods. While Lewis was
conducting this navigation experiments, Ben Finney, an anthropologist, built a
40-foot replica of an Hawaiian double canoe and tested its sailing performance.
The sailing trials indicated that the basic double-canoe design, composed of two
hulls lashed together with a central platform upon which one or more sails were
raised, was well adapted for deep-sea voyaging. The double canoe was stable and
seaworthy; it sailed well downwind and across the wind, and could sail to
windward, although not as well as a modern yacht.
On the basis of these findings, Finney proposed that it would be feasible to
sail a Polynesian double canoe from Hawai'i to Tahiti and return, over the
legendary voyaging route that once connected these two centers, and navigate it
by traditional methods without the use of a magnetic compass, charts, or any
other instruments or aids. Such a voyage would constitute a realistic test of
Sharp's claim that it had been impossible for Polynesians to have made
purposefully navigated round-trip voyages between islands separated by more than
300 nautical miles, for Hawai'i and Tahiti are separated by more than 2,000
miles of open ocean.
Hokulea:
The Rediscovery
In 1973, Ben Finney and a group of Polynesian specialists and canoe
enthusiasts formed the Polynesian Voyaging Society to build a large voyaging
canoe to attempt the Hawai'i - Tahiti round-trip in order to test the
feasibility of making long-distance, navigated voyages in a voyaging canoe
guided solely by traditional navigation. The canoe, christened Hokule'a, which
is Hawaiian for the bright star Arcturus that passes directly over the island of
Hawai'i, was launched in l975. Other than the findings at Huahine, journal notes
and illustrations from early European expeditions, and verbal information from
chants and legends, there was little evidence to help determine the actual size
and shape of the ancient voyaging canoes. Furthermore, the lack of traditional
materials and skills in modern Hawai'i meant that the canoe had to be partially
built of modern materials. Archaeologists, maritime historians, and
anthropologists collaborated on the design of a vessel that would simulate an
ancient craft in shape, weight, and performance. Because no Polynesians knew how
to navigate in the ancient manner, Mau Piailug, a traditional navigator from the
Caroline Islands of Micronesia, was chosen to guide the canoe. His method of
navigating by the stars and swells was closely similar to extinct Polynesian
methods.
Navigator Mau Piailug used the rising points of the stars, supplemented by
observations of the sun, moon, and ocean swells, as a natural compass to guide
the canoe. Even when days of solid cloud cover hid the stars, sun, and moon from
sight, Mau was able to keep the canoe on course and keep in his mind an accurate
picture of the canoe's progress toward Tahiti. And, obligingly, small, white
fairy terns skimming over the sea, told Mau that HOKULE'Athe atoll of Mataiva,
just to the north-northwest of Tahiti, was near before it could actually be
seen. Once this atoll had been reached, it was easy to orient the canoe for the
short sail to Tahiti.
The fact that the canoe sailed from Hawai'i to Tahiti and back, and that Mau
had been able to navigate to Tahiti without instruments, effectively
demonstrated how Polynesian canoes and traditional navigational methods were up
to the task of planned, long-distance voyaging. This voyage served to turn the
tide against the Sharp hypothesis of accidental voyaging, and to develop a new
appreciation for voyaging canoes and traditional ways of navigation.
As significant as these findings are to revising our view of Polynesian
prehistory, the unique feature of this project has been the degree and character
of the participation of Polynesians. Not only have hundreds of Hawaiians and
other Polynesians sailed on Hokule'a, but in seeking to rediscover their
maritime heritage they have greatly expanded the anthropological significance of
the project. It was primarily the Hawaiians who, searching to rediscover their
own maritime roots, took the lead in the project by extending the experimental
approach far beyond the initial voyage of 1976. In so doing, they have provided
realistic information on sailing over a number of legendary voyaging routes in
Polynesia, which has served to greatly enhance the understanding of the
discovery and settlement of the islands.
That modern Polynesians have taken the lead in demonstrating the capabilities
inherent in the technology and methods of their ancestors is doubly fitting, for
not only do they have the desire and talent for voyaging, but they stand to
benefit most by this effort to reestablish the deserved nautical reputation of
their ancestors. Assisted by their Micronesian teacher and advisor, Mau Piailug
, who recently received an honorary doctorate from the University of Hawai'i for
his efforts to revive Polynesian seafaring knowledge, the Hawaiians, Marquesans,
Tahitians, Cook Islanders, Maori, Tongans, and Samoans who have sailed Hokule'a
around Polynesia have been instrumental in changing scientific perceptions of
their migratory past, and have brought to their fellow Polynesians a renewed
pride in their heritage as oceanic voyagers.
The complex cultures of ancient Polynesia are largely gone. The incursions of
modern technology, the demands of the world economy, and the impingement of
foreign ideologies - religious, political or otherwise, have radically altered
once integrated and largely self-sufficient societies. In some parts of
Polynesia, the transformation from the old order is more complete, particularly
in Hawai'i and New Zealand, where Polynesians are minorites in their own land.
Many contemporary Polynesians seem to be culturally adrift, neither fully
participant in the modern cultures which have engulfed them, nor firmly anchored
to even a memory of the ancient ways of life that once sustained their people.
In this situation, the reconstruction and sailing of ancient voyaging canoes
becomes more than adventurous and anthropologically-fruitful excursions into the
past. These projects become ways culturally-uprooted Polynesians can themselves
rediscover the means by which their islands were discovered and settled, indeed
their ancient cultural heritage as a uniquely oceanic people. That is why the
Hokule'a project so captured the Hawaiian imagination, and why its passage
through Polynesian seas has so excited Tahitians, Cook Islanders, New Zealand
Maori, and other islanders. In fact, Hokule'a has not sailed alone in those
seas. Not only has the project spawned a veritable renaissance in Hawaiian
sailing canoes, but it has inspired Tahitians and New Zealand Maori to
reconstruct their own voyaging canoes and sail them over legendary sea routes.
For
more general information
on French Polynesia, go to: |