Seafaring with Selap

I'm not sure how to start this, but for now, I'm just going to write and hopefully it'll just flow.

Seafaring; the last time I was on any ocean going vessel, was on a ship that was heading to Bohol from Manila for the CFC Singles for Christ Conference. Prior to that it was on a small boat for a praise and worship event for CFC Singles for Christ Guam hosted by Sonny and Nora Perez. A couple of times before that, I was in college. Once on a boat to Mindoro traveling from Batangas with the UPLB International students as we explored the wonders of Mindoro beaches. The other time was leaving the shores of Zambales to head to the three sister islands for a weekend stay on a private island.

This last memory was riding on the dinkiest one of them all. It was a banka (a small canoe) with side extensions (I don't know the terminologies, so this land person will be using land descriptions as much as it will irritate the likes of my new sea friends) and a motor the size of lawn mower engine. I actually think it was a lawn mower. What stood out for me on this little banka was how small it was compared to the vastness of the ocean we were going to cross. It reminded me of how fragile and alone we really are. I distinctly remember the smell of the ocean and the waves. I also remember how dark the water was. It was late in the afternoon when we left the shores, the islands were at the horizon. It was a 30 minute ride. I'm a big girl, so riding in a small banka was not an easy thing. I was afraid and excited at the same time, but mostly afraid.

I haven't been on any kind of boat since then. So I'm preparing myself mentally to sail on one made by our men. One day, not today and maybe not tomorrow, but soon. For this journey of Seafaring with Selap is not meant to stay on dry land.

I'm using the term Outer Micronesian Islands, to describe those from outside the Marianas chain that I'm from, specifically Guam. The Micronesian Islands are made up of smaller island groups: Palau, Yap, Chuuk, Pohnpei and the Marshalls. I think I named all the groups. Groups because each island group has their own set of main lagoons and smaller outer islands. Guam is only 32 miles long and 10 miles wide and it's the largest Micronesian Island. One of the smallest islands I know of is only 4 miles long and 2 miles wide.

My curiosity about seafaring actually began, selfishly. I was more concerned about a future collaboration with TASA. TASA is the acronym for the Traditions Affirming our Seafaring Ancestry. TASA also symbolically refers to the capstone on the Latte Stone. When Jose first told me about it, I had this understanding that it was quite appropriate for them to use that. I'll explain later. I wasn't really thinking about sailing on a canoe or even really learning about the islands seafaring traditions. I was just wanting to make a connection for a future program I wanted to develop called AKLI'E', but that's another story.

I first met Jose Martinez at a conference a year ago. Wow, I think it was exactly one year ago today. We were grouped together to develop a grant to practice writing grants. Jose, Joe, John, Sam and myself. I was the only female. As soon as I saw John and Sam, who I knew were from the Outer Micronesian Islands of Yap, I made moves to sit on the floor. I knew them from previous encounters in other outer Micronesian Island events.

Some may be wondering, why would she sit on the floor? Were there no chairs? The conference was held at the Westin and the chairs are definitely available and comfortable. First because its part of the Outer Micronesian Islands for the woman to sit in a mannerism that puts us physically below the heads of the men and even approach them with their our heads bowed and often walking in a semi squat. Something I learned from the Polowat girls I mentored during my Campus Ministry days. I would have put on a skirt too if I had one. I was wearing jeans. Some may think I was overdoing it, but it's something I accept and I do with joy. Second because I really like sitting on the floor and I often do no matter where I am to the shock of many people. Just a note, Sam or John,  did not impose the action on me. I did catch John's smile, though. I've known John since my childhood days. My dad introduced me to him at the Guam Main Postal Facility years ago, when I was learning how to mail things. It was a warm experience to come across him again after so many years.

Jose is one of the founders of TASA, who in collaboration with TASI put up a booth at the Guam Micronesian Island Fair this past June to display the canoes they built in an effort to help keep the traditions alive. Through him, I met Guelo (I forgot his legal name) and Nash (Ignacio Camacho) at the Guam Micronesian Island Fair this past June. There were others, too, but I had more interactions with these three men during the fair. Jose is this tall broad shouldered chuckling guy, who can blow a conch shell. Yup, I think I've met only two guys who actually did that in real life. Turns out TASA men can do it, too. Jose and I share a love for our Catholic Faith. Now, Guelo, most people have come across him wearing a sade' on a daily basis. He works at the ancient village model at Gun Beach and he shares his knowledge willingly to those who are interested. His hands are always busy carving. He fascinates me because of his knowledge of the medicinal value of the native plant species. This of course stems from my personal interests in plants (I studied horticulture at the University of the Philippines in Los Banos). Nash, on the other hand was a hospitable, smooth talking and charming seafarer. He has a full faced salt and pepper beard that captures the look of a sea captain I imagined reading Moby Dick in my younger days. His eyes twinkled when he saw something he liked. Totally relaxed in his element and excited about life in general. His joy was contagious. Interacting with him and watching him interact was life giving. I learned a lot just listening and observing them as they shared their knowledge and excitement with the people around them.

It was a video that I watched that captured the sailing of the Sakman called Saina from Guam to Rota and back in 2009 that caught my attention. Jose explained his experience of that trip. Their experience with the whales and being out on the ocean. When he explained the route they took I realized that unlike a modern day engined boat, they had to use the wind and the ocean to get them there and back, which meant that it wasn't a straight line route. I wondered how they could be out there in the event of a storm. Jose chuckled again and explained that you planned your trips so that you weren't out there in a storm. Obviously my common sense did not follow through when thinking of sea voyaging.  I was deeply aware of how much I really didn't know. It was becoming more and more apparent that I was not in my realm of knowledge.

It was interesting, but my mind was primarily focused on how to collaborate with this group to work with AKLI'E' and the impact going through this experience would have on the clients of AKLI'E'. So I wanted to learn mainly so I would know how to work effectively with them. Not necessarily to learn for my own personal understanding or enlightenment.

I started to learn that the galai'de' (still figuring out the spelling) that I knew of and most familiar with is the smallest of the canoes built by our people. I also learned that it was used inside the reef and didn't have a sail as erroneously depicted on the Guam Seal. The Sakman, is the largest, and built for long voyages. When Jose, showed me the Sakman, I couldn't get it around my head how people fit inside it. His answer to my query was met with laughter as he chuckled and said, "you don't sit in it, you sit on top of it." My mind went immediately to fear. How could you just stay on top? Long voyages means overnight and many hours if not days out on the ocean with no protection. My fear wouldn't let me comprehend why it was built this way.

And so my journey with Seafaring with Selap begins. It began because of my recent experience with him.

Yesterday, Jose invited me to a lesson being offered by TASA at House 1 located in Sagan Kottura Chamoru. Sandra Okada and Selap (Tony Pialug) were presenting. As I walked in, we were already 19 minutes late and Selap was going over the star chart. I wanted Michael to be right in their midst, which caused me to stand. I wasn't thinking because I was concerned about positioning Michael. But then I realized that I was still standing for an extended time. Selap is from the outer Micronesian Island of Satawal. Although he didn't say anything, I became uncomfortable because I recognized that I didn't physically lower myself below his head. In fact we were standing across each other at eye level. He kept his head down while at the same time I tried to figure out away to sit so as to be proper. Again, he didn't demand I meet that protocol, but I could tell that my standing was not comfortable for both of us.

He spoke quietly and you could tell he was aware of his pupils. At one point he left, not really saying anything. When he returned he had a small model canoe made from coconut leaves. He placed it in the middle of the star chart. It dawned on me that he recognized that we, his pupils, were not grasping the concepts. He also recognized that he had to change his method to meet our learning style. Michael being 8 years old amongst us adults, was not dismissed and overlooked. Nope, Selap adjusted his lesson and made it eye catching and allowed us to focus. By this time I had situated myself on a lounger that allowed me to see the star chart and be seated properly (again my imposing, not his). He began again his lesson and explained the star chart. I asked, "how are you able to use the stars when it changes positions through the night and year?" He smiles and patiently responds with, "the stars are always moving, but you use the star chart when the stars are just at the horizon. We don't use the star chart when it's high in the sky because then they'll be in the wrong position." I chuckled at myself, because that should have been obvious to me, but he patiently responded. He wanted me to understand. And I did. He began to explain the full use of the star chart. Mind you, this chart doesn't look anything like the star charts NASA looks at. Its simply made of shells with large shells alternating between 3 smaller shells. In a circle.

He reminded us that sometimes the stars are not clear in the direction you are going, but that's okay, you can look to the east, west and south of your direction and know that if those stars are aligned to the canoe the way it should be, then you are heading in the right direction. For some reason, I realized that concept had never dawned on me in all my years of breathing. I would have immediately thought, I'm going to wait for the sky to clear, until I can see where I am going. This is profoundly a deep spiritual understanding.

Using fully every resource surrounding you has always been a lesson I, myself as a teacher would tell my student. That lesson took on a major concretization as I sat being schooled again. He continued to explain that the stars were there, but also there is the swells of the ocean. He said the angle of the swells (He didn't use the word wave, it was swells) determined if you were also going in the right direction. You could tell, he said, by how the sakman responded to the swells. Whether the canoe rose with the swell or not. I can't explain with words how he described the sakman' s response to a swell hitting its side. His words elude me now, but I'll be sure to ask again.

During my college days in the Philippines, my Tito Eli Bardenas enhanced it with trips to the different parts of the Philippines. So my first experience on the banka, a very small canoe (dinky) that used a small engine made me feel like I was disconnected, mainly because I was relying on somebody else's knowledge to get me where I was going and the idea of this dinky engine getting us there, which I knew had limits. Fear dominated my experience and although the ocean's smell and the breeze was surrounding me, I know that I was more excited to see land. For me the ocean separated me from the land.

Selap made the connection between us and the ocean. Everything is connected. The water didn't separate us, it connected us. I, for once, felt a deep sense of awe. I could imagine the excitement one felt being on a sakman heading towards our destination and the pull of wind and the ocean to get us there. It began the fascination. His words were spoken in a manner that wasn't loud or overbearing. It was calm and assuring. There was a tone of excitement in it, a fullness as he recounted how to use this knowledge.

After Selap got up to do whatever it was the men were doing, I sat to watch a video that was made to explain the makings of a sakman. Sandra shared that the first master navigator to share his knowledge outside of the traditional family's passing it from generation to generation, realized that if he didn't share the knowledge that it would be gone forever was Selap Tony's dad, Mau Piailug. It was not an easy thing to do as the sacredness of the knowledge was held highly among the people. To think that this knowledge still existed in the Micronesian Islands in times where the modern ocean freights kept the islands connected is humbling and a blessing.

TASA, TASI and other groups of individuals are working to keep this knowledge alive. Selap is mentoring those who are interested. I have now become interested. He connected me to something deep inside. A sense of wonder and awe has settled in me. I was only in his presence for a few minutes of a full day of learning and in that few minutes he imparted an understanding that sadly takes today's teachers more time to make that impact. I want to learn. In this blog, I hope to capture that learning experience. Not just the technical side, but the full experience of learning from Selap.