50 10 700 https://apconf-much.org/proceedings/files/original/2f428ce172ad827bfcc08494294bc0a7.pdf 36e031a1f961d02d6732ae13bd4aafe6 PDF Text Text Bringing Asia to the World: Public Outreach via the Museum of Underwater Archaeology Michelle Damian Abstract The most fascinating explorations of underwater cultural heritage lose much of their value if the information gathered is not disseminated to a wide audience. While much of our public outreach has traditionally come from publications and conference talks, the Internet has become the fastest way to reach the greatest numbers of people. Though technology for website creation has become easier in recent years many archaeologists lack the time and expertise, not only to create web sites, but also to promote them in ways that will reach the widest possible audience. The Museum of Underwater Archaeology (MUA)’s mission is to assist and promote the use of the Internet by ethical professional, student, and avocational underwater archaeologists. This paper will focus on the various methods the MUA uses to present different projects, with a special spotlight on our Asian sites. It will also highlight ways to connect what is on the screen to actual hands-on experiences through different classroom-based teaching resources developed by the museum. Introduction As archaeologists we are responsible for disseminating information about the projects we conduct. Unfortunately those ideas are often pushed aside in the excitement of digging a new site. The often-heard lament is that archaeologists like to be in the field, but are less inclined to publish their findings. The nonprofit Museum of Underwater Archaeology (MUA) was founded in 2004 in an effort to combat this problem (http://www.themua.org). Our mission statement is to assist and promote the use of the Internet by ethical professional, student, and avocational underwater archaeologists, encouraging archaeologists at all levels to circulate information about our craft. From the outset the MUA has tried not to focus on one particular nation or territory. Although it was founded in the United States it has sought to provide global coverage of underwater archaeology and to that end has made concerted efforts to introduce its audience to projects outside of the western hemisphere. We have an established audience: to date we have had over one hundred sixteen thousand views from over ninety countries on the main page, let alone all of the individual projects and subposts throughout the site. We do not charge any fees, but make our services available for free to all ethical archaeologists. The Asia-Pacific region is of particular importance to the MUA. The underwater cultural heritage of this area includes some of the most significant shipwrecks in human history and so requires due attention, preservation, and curation. The MUA seeks to assist underwater archaeologists working within this region with their public outreach efforts. This paper will discuss not only the publishing options available on the MUA website but also our past efforts within the AsiaPacific territories included in this conference. Our hope is to provide greater coverage and assistance to the conference attendees in the future. �There are numerous benefits to posting one’s research online. First and foremost is the need to publish our findings for the general public as well as our professional colleagues. The best discovery is meaningless if the information remains unavailable, locked away on a dusty shelf in a small office. A typical archaeological investigation publishes results through a journal article or two, or perhaps in a presentation at a conference. That results in a highly limited, specialized audience. Conversely, online publishing can reach a worldwide audience literally at the click of a button. Promoting this information helps draw greater numbers of viewers to our projects, in turn hopefully increasing interest in preserving our underwater cultural heritage. Posting project reports online for a general audience can also be helpful to the individual authors. I have posted my own research as a project journal on the MUA, and I as well as other authors have been fortunate enough to gather additional information from readers who contribute their own observations. While those comments can occasionally be somewhat off-topic, often readers will provide helpful information or suggestions for further research. The internet allows us to connect with others whom we may never have reached otherwise. On a very pragmatic level, particularly for students and young archaeologists, it also helps to increase name recognition. My own research as posted on the MUA has been seen by over seven thousand people, and in the “real world” I have encountered archaeologists working on projects as diverse as Confederate submarines or American government preservation projects who have read my Asia-related work on the MUA. It is highly unlikely that our paths would have crossed in any other way. MUA Presentation Styles The MUA’s presentation formats consist of three major categories as well as several experimental designs. The most in-depth category is museum exhibits, generally focusing on a detailed presentation of a single site or concept. Based on the idea of a brick-and-mortar museum, exhibits consist of several “galleries,” similar to walking into a room of a museum. Within each gallery are a number of clickable links, representing the “artifact cases” of a traditional museum exhibit. MUA exhibits most often consist of three galleries, usually focusing on the history, methodology, and findings of an archaeological investigation. Each gallery might have anywhere between five and twelve links, allowing the archaeologists to introduce numerous aspects of the site. While at present there are no exhibits focusing on an Australasian maritime site, the MUA is eager to develop one with a partner from the region. The exhibit format is not limited to site-specific topics, but is also used to explore more conceptual frameworks. The two best examples of this are the “Raising the Fleet” and the “Children’s Introduction to Underwater Archaeology” exhibits. The former highlights the synthesis of science with art. In the project director’s words, “the exhibit team used their artistic talents and scientific expertise to develop new and exciting methods of exploring the underwater frontiers of Lake George, New York, USA” (Zarzynski, et al. 2010). This not only �brought a new perspective into the archaeology of Lake George, but it also broadened the appeal of the site to artists and scientists as well. Similarly, the “Children’s Introduction” was designed to target the younger generation, teaching the basic steps of any underwater archaeological investigation. This exhibit incorporates interactive exercises encouraging the viewer to solve problems or explore the tools of maritime archaeology (Knoerl and Damian 2006). Neither exhibit is limited to a particular geographic locale, but encourages a topical approach to the concepts introduced. Project journals also highlight one site or project, but are less structured than the exhibit galleries. They are generally conducted in “real time,” following an individual or group throughout the course of a project in a bloglike format. This type of MUA submission is most often utilized in a field school or student project, though it is not restricted to those submissions. Through periodic updates for projects spanning anything from two weeks to several years, the audience follows along with the archaeologists on their investigations. We are fortunate to have several Asia-based project journals, including a survey by the USA-based company Southeastern Archaeological Research, Inc. (SEARCH), of World War Two landing sites in Saipan. The SEARCH team worked in conjunction with the Commonwealth of the Northern Mariana Islands Historic Preservation Office in Partnership with the National Park Service, Department of the Interior, to identify and record magnetic anomalies along Saipan’s coastline. SEARCH also used their project journal to appeal to the general readership for additional information about the invasion as well as for insight into some of the artifacts found (Burns and Krivor 2008). Our most common form of project journal is conducted in conjunction with training projects. Particularly in teaching underwater archaeology, many instructors are likely to focus on mapping, research, and technologies used for a project. Dissemination of information often gets short shrift in the classroom. The project journal format offers a way to incorporate public outreach and publication into the field experience itself. Assigning students entries in a project journal reinforces the need to present the work to a variety of audiences. The success of the first university field school project journal, done by East Carolina University in 2006, prompted Flinders University in Australia to incorporate the same training for their students. Two consecutive field schools in 2007 and 2008 showcased students learning maritime archaeological techniques and crafting journal entries that described their daily activities in an entertaining and informative manner (Flinders University 2007). The UNESCO Project on Safeguarding the Underwater Cultural Heritage of Asia and the Pacific is another Asia-based example of the field school project journal. This enterprise, conducted in Sri Lanka, trained the future trainers of maritime archaeology. Fourteen maritime archaeologists and conservators participated in a two-week series of lectures and fieldwork for the long-term goal of protecting Sri Lankan maritime heritage. This journal highlights international cooperation as well, as instructors came from within Sri Lanka, India, Japan, and Australia (Khan, et al. 2008). The various perspectives from within Australasia are brought together in this type of collaborative field school project journal. �Figure 1. Sample page from the Sri Lanka field school project journal (Sanath 2008) A third variant of project journal focuses on student research, chronicling a single graduate student’s advanced research. This is exemplified in our final example of an Asian-based project journal, my own master’s program research at East Carolina University. My project focused on examining representations of Japanese wooden boats in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, a topic that has gone almost entirely unstudied in Western scholarship. As such, resources were scarce, and I wanted both to cast a wide net to gather information and to promote this topic to an audience that was likely largely unfamiliar with Asian maritime history (Damian 2005). These types of projects are a fantastic chance for individual students to promote their own research as well as disseminate information about their studies. The versatility of this format is apparent, as fully half of all the MUA’s project journals are Australasian-based, and have been produced by students, professionals, non-profits, and instructors. The third major category of MUA presentation is the “In the Field.” These are brief entries, usually only a page or two of text with three or four illustrations. This type of entry is ideal for shorter projects or for those individuals or groups who want to introduce their work to a global audience via the MUA. We have several Australasian In the Fields that showcase a variety of topics. Warang Petch, a student at Silpakorn University, Thailand, wrote about overcoming the �challenges of obtaining underwater archaeology training in an area with no formal university program (Petch 2007). An Australian avocational group, the Pericles Research Group, described the history of the White Star Line’s SS Pericles and their work mapping its wreck (Pericles Research Group 2006). The chronicle of the General Harrison, written by James Delgado, is based in San Francisco and is at first glance not an Asian story. Through reading this post, however, we learn about the Chinese diaspora, as Delgado describes the evidence of Chinese workers in Gold Rush era California (Delgado 2010). An even more dramatic tale of Chinese emigration is evident in posts by Dione Chen on the Free China, an early 20th-century Chinese junk that crossed the Pacific and is desperately awaiting preservation in a California shipyard today (Chen 2009). These relatively brief posts are wonderful examples of different manifestations of Australasian maritime archaeological and historical issues. Figure 2. "In the Field" post calling for preservation of a Chinese junk (Chen 2009) The MUA is also exploring other presentation methods. Recent innovations include the periodic Guest Blogger, which invites leaders in the field to discuss key topics and concerns in maritime archaeology. This conference has been highlighted in the guest blog by Mark Staniforth, and in August 2011 another Pacific Rim country was featured for the first time as Peruvian �archaeologist Carlos E. Ausejo submitted a state of the field report. We also have begun creating online posters that incorporate a number of pictures into a zoomable poster-style presentation, allowing for a variety of images and videos to be visible on the same page. Flinders University’s most recent field school posting from 2010 is presented in this way (Flinders University 2010). We draw our contributors from all levels of archaeology, so long as those archaeologists subscribe to the Code of Ethics as put forth by the USA-based Society for Historical Archaeology. Each post undergoes minimal editing for grammatical clarity, and although the MUA reserves the right to edit content, we strive to maintain the integrity of the original authors’ words and formats. Additional Outreach A final step in the MUA’s outreach includes moving out of the online realm and into the classroom. At present there are over three hundred pages of content on the MUA, by over seventy archaeologists from six continents. This represents an invaluable collection of information about sites and projects from a myriad of perspectives worldwide. In the online world, however, people want new, updated content constantly, often relegating previous posts to obscurity. This does not negate the validity and importance of those earlier contributions, though. To maintain the current relevance of all of the posts online, we work to use that information in other ways as well. We feel that students especially can benefit from our contributors’ experiences, and have targeted younger students in some of our outreach efforts. Our flagship student outreach program includes the classroom kit, “Holding History in Your Hand,” based loosely on the framework outlined in the Children’s Introduction to Underwater Archaeology exhibit (MUA 2008). We have gathered materials for teachers to use in the schoolroom, including a written curriculum presenting the six steps of the archaeological process, replicas of artifacts for examination, videos, a sidescan sonar slideshow, and other activities for further exploration. The lesson plan familiarizes the teacher with the items and information in the kit, and allows them to teach their classroom about the basic steps of a maritime archaeology project. In order to make this kit as easily available as possible, we only charge a shipping and handling fee; no money is collected for the kit itself. To date it has been widely distributed throughout the world including numerous kits sent to western Australia and the Republic of Korea. The most critical step in the program is the artifact analysis, in which students are each given an “artifact” similar to one they might find on a shipwreck site – beads, buttons, plain and decorative ceramics, bone, glass, coins, brick, and more. Students are encouraged to examine their artifact for clues as to where it might have come from, what its function was, and whether it was manmade or natural. The teacher then posits several questions to encourage the students to think about the fictitious wreck site. Who might use a fancy pottery piece? What if there are a lot of plain ceramics and fewer fancy pieces? Where is the coin from? What might the marks on the bone mean? Through examining the �artifacts and questioning the relationship between them, students recognize that we are not only investigating the objects, but more importantly are learning about the people associated with the wreck site. Figure 3. Students examine a replica "artifact" as part of the classroom kit artifact exercise. Photo by author, 2005. This process also encourages students to recognize the importance of provenience and site preservation. When the students have thought through the ramifications of the presence of the various objects, we then suggest that they consider what happens in their absence. Perhaps they have decided that a site with a large amount of decorative ceramics may have been a trade ship, sunk on the way to deliver its wares. We then ask them to imagine the consequences of sport divers on a site, one by one each taking away a piece of those ceramics as a souvenir – and giving the archaeologist fewer clues to work from to understand the history of the ship and its people. Invariably the students, having just gone through the reasoning process themselves, are shocked and saddened to think that we may no longer have the tools to piece together the ship’s story. Instilling these ideas at a younger age will help the next generation be more concerned about preserving our maritime cultural heritage. As an additional follow-up to the classroom kit, we also provide online “learning paths” for students and teachers who may want to further explore particular topics or the MUA as a whole. The original MUA learning paths were divided by age group, with a designated page that asked additional ageappropriate questions and suggested links within the MUA that addressed the �answers. Students are encouraged to read the linked pages to draw their own conclusions. This again allows older content to remain fresh and in use, even if the posts themselves are several years old. We are excited to announce the first of our regional-based learning paths, highlighting thematic approaches to some of the issues discussed in the Asian projects on the MUA. Using posts from the Pacific and Indian Oceans, we encourage readers to consider topics ranging from maritime archaeological training, to Asian ship construction, problems in interpreting evidence, remnants of war, and the Asian diaspora. We hope to continue to add to these learning paths with additional contributions to the MUA. Finally, we have also created a pdf compilation of the first year of guest blogger posts, containing contributions from eminent archaeologists such as James Delgado, Joe Flatman, Felipe Castro and more. Taken together these essays become an excellent introduction to the state of the field and would be a useful learning tool particularly in an undergraduate class on maritime archaeology. Conclusion We are grateful for the opportunity to discuss the MUA at this first Asia-Pacific conference on maritime cultural heritage, and hope to be able to increase our service here in Asia and the Pacific. We strongly encourage anyone interested in promoting their work on the MUA to contact us. We also welcome additional volunteers who may be willing to help us expand our offerings. Please do not hesitate to contact us with additional questions, suggestions, or potential posts. We look forward to continuing to work to make information about our global maritime cultural heritage available at the click of a button to archaeologists, the general public, and students throughout the world. Bibliography (NOTE: All the Websites listed here are hosted on the Museum of Underwater Archaeology webpage address) Burns, J., and Krivor M., 2008 Chen, D., 2009 Damian, M., 2005 Delgado, J., 2010 Flinders University Underwater Archaeology Invasion Beaches Survey 2008: Plane Wrecks, Viewed 12 October 2011. http://www.uri.edu/artsci/his/mua/project_journals/saipan/saipan_55.shtml A Junk At Risk, Viewed 12 October 2011. http://www.uri.edu/artsci/his/mua/in_the_field/junk.shtml Japanese Wooden Boats in Woodblock Prints: A Research Project Journal, Viewed 12 October 2011. http://www.uri.edu/artsci/his/mua/project_journals/aj/aj_intro.shtml A Long Forgotten Buried Ship, Viewed 12 October 2011. http://www.uri.edu/artsci/his/mua/in_the_field/jd2.shtml Flinders University Field School in Underwater Archaeology, Viewed 12 October 2011. �2007 and 2008 Flinders University 2010 Khan, A. et al. 2008 Knoerl, T. K., ed. 2010 Knoerl, T. K., and Damian, M., 2006 The Museum of Underwater Archaeology 2008 Pericles Research Group 2006 Petch, W., 2007 Sanath, W. K. Zarzynski, J., Bowser, S., and Mossop, E., 2010 http://www.uri.edu/artsci/his/mua/project_journals/flinders/flinders_intro .shtml Flinders University’s Streaky Bay and Sceale Bay: Field School February 2010, Viewed 12 October 2011. http://www.uri.edu/artsci/his/mua/posters/flinders2010.html UNESCO Training Project Journal, Viewed 12 October 2011. http://www.uri.edu/artsci/his/mua/project_journals/un/un_intro.shtml. The Museum of Underwater Archaeology Guest Blogger Anthology. Viewed 12 October 2011. http://www.uri.edu/artsci/his/mua/documents/MUA_Guest_Blogger_An thology.pdf A Children’s Introduction to Underwater Archaeology, Viewed 12 October 2011. http://www.uri.edu/artsci/his/mua/HTMLTEST/childrens.htm. Teaching Resource, Viewed 12 October 2011. http://www.uri.edu/artsci/his/mua/teaching.html Initial Investigation of the SS Pericles, Viewed 12 October 2011. http://www.uri.edu/artsci/his/mua/pericles.html Underwater Archaeology Training Project: Hin Bush Shipwreck Site, Rayong, Thailand, Viewed 12 October 2011. http://www.uri.edu/artsci/his/mua/in_the_field/thai.html End of the Earl, Viewed 12 October 2011. http://www.uri.edu/artsci/his/mua/project_journals/un/un4-5.shtml Raising the Fleet: An Art/Science Initiative, Viewed 12 October 2011. http://www.themua.org/raisingthefleet/index.php �� Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Bringing Asia to the World: Public Outreach via the Museum of Underwater Archaeology Subject The topic of the resource Session 10 Technology and Underwater Cultural Heritage Description An account of the resource The most fascinating explorations of underwater cultural heritage lose much of their value if the information gathered is not disseminated to a wide audience. While much of our public outreach has traditionally come from publications and conference talks, the Internet has become the fastest way to reach the greatest numbers of people. Though technology for website creation has become easier in recent years many archaeologists lack the time and expertise, not only to create web sites, but also to promote them in ways that will reach the widest possible audience. The Museum of Underwater Archaeology (MUA)’s mission is to assist and promote the use of the Internet by ethical professional, student, and avocational underwater archaeologists. This paper will focus on the various methods the MUA uses to present different projects, with a special spotlight on our Asian sites. It will also highlight ways to connect what is on the screen to actual hands-on experiences through different classroom-based teaching resources developed by the museum. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Michelle Damian Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource November 2011 Asia-Pac Session 10 https://apconf-much.org/proceedings/files/original/5c47d2ab9b42e78abc9e246e972918ca.mp4 08f22b923999adfdc9a178b79d67d35c Event A non-persistent, time-based occurrence. Metadata for an event provides descriptive information that is the basis for discovery of the purpose, location, duration, and responsible agents associated with an event. Examples include an exhibition, webcast, conference, workshop, open day, performance, battle, trial, wedding, tea party, conflagration. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Video Interview with keynote speaker Dr. James P. Delgado Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Michelle Damian Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available <a href="http://www.themua.org">The Museum of Underwater Archaeology</a> Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 6/11/2014 Asia-Pac Keynote 2014 https://apconf-much.org/proceedings/files/original/ea76aae7c36db87b81550c9312843ccd.pdf 2b131e1dd837d3120129cd4846449bc8 PDF Text Text Merging Museums with the Classroom: Using Collections to Teach Maritime Archaeology Michelle M. Damian Monmouth College Abstract Although there is a growing interest in studying maritime archaeology even at the undergraduate level, it can be a challenge to bring to life for non-divers both the mechanics of an archaeological investigation, but also the joy of discovery and satisfaction of identification of a wreck site. This paper will describe possible alternative methods of recreating that entire process through the use of museum collections. In particular, I will discuss a project undertaken by undergraduates at Harvard University in partnership with the Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology. Students were required to choose a ship model from the museum’s collections and, with very minimal initial information, had to research its historical background and construction techniques, treating it as an archaeologist would a shipwreck site. This paper will introduce the benefits and challenges to both the students and the museums in using this type of approach. Key words: Collections, Ship models, Museums, Public Engagement Project Description While a postdoctoral fellow at the Reischauer Institute of Japanese Studies (Harvard University) in spring of 2016, I was invited to teach an introductory class on maritime archaeology in the anthropology department. Even though the Boston, Massachusetts, area has a rich maritime history, such a class had never previously been taught at Harvard. Since my fellowship was a nonrenewable, single-year appointment, there was no opportunity to develop a sustainable maritime archaeology program there. The class, ANTHRO 1281, was therefore �designed as a stand-alone introduction to the field, with no prerequisites for undergraduates. My two main goals for this class were to give the students as much handson experience as possible to evoke the excitement involved in maritime archaeological fieldwork, and to emphasize the need for archaeologists to disseminate our work to a wide variety of audiences. The challenges to the first goal, however, were that the students were not certified divers and even if they were, Boston in the winter months does not provide ideal diving conditions! We were fortunate to collaborate with NOAA staff members from Stellwagen Bank, who did an ROV demonstration one evening at the campus pool, and with Victor Mastone at the Massachusetts Bureau of Underwater Archaeological Resources, who took us to a shoreline wreck site. There the students were even able to do some preliminary mapping of an 18th century shipwreck. While these experiences were valuable and students cited them in class evaluations as some of the most exciting aspects of the class, they did not provide the in-depth experience of exploring a single site over a longer period of time. Nor are they necessarily able to be replicated in other areas where there might not be a NOAA ROV to borrow or a convenient shoreline shipwreck site. To provide students with at least a sense of the research aspects of maritime archaeology, as well as to achieve the second class goal of emphasizing multiple means of interpreting the site, I approached the Academic Partnerships department at the Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology (PMAE). Located on Harvard’s campus, the museum was founded in 1866 and is home to over 1.4 million artifacts. As part of its mission, the museum promotes using the collections for “unique opportunities for innovative teaching, research, and �enrichment at Harvard” and other communities (Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology). The Academic Partnerships Department is excited to work with instructors and make collections available to students, and that made for a natural collaboration between the ANTHRO 1281 class and the museum. The PMAE has in its collections over seventy different ship models, many of which were donated to the museum in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Most of the models represent indigenous watercraft from Asian, Oceaniac, and Native American peoples (Figs. 1 and 2). As many of them came to the Peabody from another Boston-area museum that was destroyed in a fire, documentation is minimal for the vast majority of the models. One typical accession card simply reads “Chinese Boat. Peale’s Museum, ca 1840.” Due to space limitations, very few of the models are displayed in the public galleries. �Fig. 1: Representative ship modelfrom the PMAE collection, No. 32-6260/D4111. (Damian) Fig. 2: Representative ship models from the PMAE collection, No. 99-1260/52934). (Damian) �These models became our “shipwrecks.” In class we discussed the anonymous nature of much of maritime archaeology. Few archaeologists know that they are working on a Vasa, a Mary Rose, or a CSS Hunley when they discover a wreck. Instead, they encounter an often unnamed vessel in a particular geographic region, and must identify diagnostic features and do research to determine the type, time period, and origin of the vessel. Students were charged with treating the models in a similar manner, using them as substitutes for a shipwreck. Where was it from? Who might have sailed on this kind of ship? How can we determine what type of vessel it was? The minimal documentation for these models was therefore not an impediment to the process, as students were required to research and discover the answers themselves. A second component to the museum partnership was to create an online exhibit for the Peabody Museum (visible here: https://www.peabody.harvard.edu/node/2619). In keeping with the course goal of disseminating information to multiple audiences, students were to not only write an academic term paper about their model, but were also required to write several shorter, public-focused introductions to their models that became the heart of the online exhibit. The multicomponent assignment therefore spanned the entire semester. Students each chose a single model as their focus. They arranged with the Academic Partnerships office to visit the museum and investigate their model, taking photographs and making notes and sketches of diagnostic features. They were not meant to be researching the model maker or the actual model itself, but instead were to treat the model as an archetype, treating it as a shipwreck. The first assignment focused on the historic background of the vessel, and the second on a detailed discussion of the �ship construction features. Research was often a challenge if the only information they had to begin with was “Chinese boat ca 1840.” As secondary scholarship on some of these vessel types was limited, students discovered the importance of incorporating multiple lines of inquiry into their research, including artwork, primary source ethnographic accounts, and even films. Details of the students’ work can be seen on the online exhibit, but a typical example is of work done on a model titled “War Canoe.” The accession notes included information that the model originated in Sarawak, Borneo (Malaysia), and referenced the Iban tribe. Using a flag included with the model, students were able to date the ship to the late 19th or early 20th century (Gilbert). Records from European explorers described the seafaring members of the Iban tribe as the Sea Dyak, and students relied heavily on those sources to discern who may have used this type of vessel and the context in which it sailed (Kimball). The models therefore served as stand-ins for actual shipwreck sites, as the focus was not on the individual model and its creator, but on the model-as-typicalwatercraft. The museum aspect of the project was divided into three different components. As these were put online for a general audience, students were charged with writing to that public, foregoing a more traditional academic writing style. They needed to consider how to draw their readers in to learn more about their vessels, balancing being informative and exciting. The first two assignments consisted of a photo of their vessel (taken by the student), accompanied by a brief introductory paragraph and followed by a more in-depth analysis (2 – 3 pages) of their findings. The third assignment was to create a museum label for their boat, introducing �the artifact to someone who might be walking past the model in a physical exhibit. Once they had learned as much as they could about their watercraft, they needed to consider what was most important for the casual museum visitor to learn about their boat. The original intent was to announce each component of the project to the public as it was put online and solicit feedback and suggestions. Particularly since many of the models had such limited documentation, crowdsourcing the research in this way was one strategy that could provide the students with more insight into their vessel. Incorporating the public suggestions and feedback from the instructor and teaching assistants, students needed to complete a final assignment rewriting their publicly focused entries as a more academic term paper. This was meant to help them again consider those multiple audiences and adjust their communication styles accordingly. Some obstacles hindered that ideal realization of this project, however, as I will address in the next section. The entire project was designed to emulate the archaeological process: the “discovery,” research, and interpretation of a shipwreck site. It spanned the entire semester, allowing students to expand their research as they considered the different aspects of their vessels. While some students expressed frustration at spending “so much time” on a single ship type in their research, I believe it was an effective introduction to the research process for an archaeological project – particularly when some archaeologists can spend years on a single site. �Challenges to the Project Because this was the first time I had taught this class, and because this was the first time the Peabody Museum had partnered with a faculty member to use student classwork to create an online exhibit, there was an element of trial and error to actualizing the project. None of the following comments are meant as criticisms of the PMAE staff, as everyone involved was extremely enthusiastic about the collaboration, and the Academic Partnerships staff in particular were tremendously accommodating. Here I describe the issues that arose simply to note potential pitfalls for future similar projects The first issue was simply that of the actual web coding. As I myself am not a programmer, this became an additional project for the museum’s web developer on top of his other duties. In addition, since he was only in-house certain days of the week, progress at putting the information provided by the students online was sometimes slower than I had hoped. Progress was further hindered by my own failure to clarify how best to provide him the data. For example, for the first two assignments the students needed to submit a stand-alone image of their boat to be used as a cover photo, a short paragraph, and a longer paper. Initially the students embedded their cover photos directly into the Microsoft Word documents containing their paragraphs and longer essays, but that became problematic for the web designer to extract and put online. We decided on a file naming convention for both images and documents, and had the students re-submit their files via Dropbox. Streamlining this process took some time, and thus the public launch of the website was delayed until both the first and second assignments were already online. �This, then, affected the ability to promote the website and adequately crowdsource feedback as I had initially hoped. The second, and perhaps more striking, issue came in the form of copyright considerations. Many of the students found different images in their research that they wanted to incorporate into their analyses, and therefore scanned them and included them in their papers, with proper citations. When it came to putting those images online, however, a question arose regarding copyright of those images, regardless of educational fair use. According to the Academic Partnerships department, “Each image would have had to have been reviewed on a case by case basis, to determine whether their use was “transformative” [which would have been impossible due to the time constraints of the class].” (Rose) The public distribution inherent to internet display was the main concern, as it increased the risk that the copyright holder may have discovered that his/her image was being used without permission. It was decided that it would be safer to remove any images that were not either in the public domain or the students’ own photos or sketches from their papers. This put an additional burden on both the students and the instructors, as everyone needed to re-edit their papers and verify the ability to use any embedded images. Students were understandably upset at needing to delete certain images, since in many cases they referred to those sources in their written analyses and felt that the removal would hinder the ability to effectively convey their argument. We therefore compromised by substituting an “image redacted” icon for the deleted images, which we hoped would indicate to any readers that any missing information was not due to student error. �A final concern came from an individual student. Since the Peabody Museum wanted to be sure that students were getting credit for their work online, and since ideally the project would be receiving feedback directed at individual submissions, we decided to have the names of the students clearly associated with their web submissions. One student approached me with concern, as she had been the victim of online stalking in the past and did not want her name to be searchable. With her permission, we compromised by including the student’s initials instead of her full name. Most of these obstacles were due to the fact that this was the first time such a project had been conceived of and carried out at the Peabody Museum. If the museum collaborates in the future with faculty to create a similar exhibit, or when this kind of class is taught at other institutions, those issues have now been identified and can be corrected before the project begins. Benefits of the Project The stumbling blocks noted above were of small concern when compared with the overall benefits of doing this type of project. The Peabody Museum staff were excited to be a part of this project not only because it conformed to their mission, but it also allowed them to breathe new life into old collections. As noted above, the majority of the models cannot be displayed in the main galleries due to their size. When the Academic Partnerships staff first brought out the models for me to view prior to beginning the project, one exclaimed that even as a long-time staff member, this was the first time she was viewing the models. Allowing the students to research the vessels and create an online exhibit of the models enabled the Peabody Museum to make those long-stored objects �accessible to an online audience. In some cases, the students’ findings provided additional information or called into question the museum’s classifications of the vessels. One model, labeled a “Chinese barge,” was actually closer to a junk, concluded two students (Barrett, McGough). As noted above, this project allowed non-diver students to get a sense of the type of research work and methodologies that archaeologists may have to use when trying to identify an unknown shipwreck. Further than that, however, many of the students found the experience valuable for a number of reasons. Several students elected to write a brief “reflections” post for the website, and other comments were gleaned from class evaluations. In these writings, many students noted the benefits in learning to communicate with various audiences. They often acknowledged that it was difficult at first to convey complex technical information in an accessible manner, but that it became easier with practice (Skendarian, Gerberich). Several also appreciated that this assignment approached work on an actual site as closely as possible within the limitations of the class. One noted the restrictions in working with a model, since special arrangements had to be made with the collections staff each time she wanted to view the model. She acknowledged, however, that this was probably very similar to limitations an archaeologist would encounter on an actual site: repeated lengthy visits are not always possible (Lu). Perhaps the most notable response, however, was the pride the students took in actively contributing to the field through this project. Comments included statements such as “knowing that my research for this project will be available online for the public to see makes me feel as if I am truly �a maritime archaeologist” (Lu), “I’m really glad I had the opportunity to break new ground and contribute to the academic world of maritime archeology with the research I conducted over the last few weeks” (Skendarian), and “seeing our work go on an actual museum webpage was a worthwhile finish” (Metoyer). An anonymous comment from class evaluations further stated, “The museum project was one that allowed such a realistic approach to maritime archeology and further enabled the ability for some realistic learning approach. It was one of the first times within my life that I've actually made a profound difference within the academic world and for that reason, it was an incredible experience.” The students’ work is still part of PMAE’s online offerings and at present there are no plans to remove it. The class has therefore made a lasting contribution that will remain accessible to anyone interested in maritime history and ship construction of indigenous crafts from Asia, Oceania, and North America. Future Possibilities In planning this project, I was of course tremendously fortunate to have a museum such as the PMAE located on the same campus, with an incredible collection of ships’ models and staff who were excited to work with faculty and students. Obviously, this scenario is the exception rather than the norm. That being said, there are possibilities. Local maritime museums are likely to be interested in collaborating, and I have spoken with a faculty member of a Georgia university who intends to undertake a similar project in conjunction with the Ships and the Sea museum. Furthermore, in the Spring of 2018 I will be teaching a version of this class at my current institution, Monmouth College in Illinois (USA) – a very �landlocked college with no ship model collection at hand. I intend to test the idea that it should be possible to replicate this type of project with other materials. While models provide a tangible, three-dimensional representation of a vessel especially helpful for understanding elements of ship construction, photographic or even artistic representations of ships may be able to be used to the same effect. As some of the students noted in their analyses, the models were not always perfect representations of actual construction techniques either. While relying solely on twodimensional depictions of ships may be even more limiting, in other ways it could widen the scope of discussion considerably. Instead of being confined to the extant items in a collection, the possibilities for research of images is nearly endless. Copyright considerations, of course, would still need to be taken into account. While putting up an online exhibit is ideal in that it can both reach out to a worldwide audience and endure indefinitely, if programming or online access is an issue a physical exhibit could be mounted with the help of any local gallery space. Particularly if students are working with images, all that would be needed is some wall space for mounting the photographs and labels. At Monmouth College, I hope to make use of the resources afforded by the Museum of Underwater Archaeology (MUA; www.themua.org) to create an online exhibit, as well as appeal to the library for the use of gallery space to mount a physical exhibit on campus. For an introductory class in maritime archaeology to a group of undergraduates who may or may not have prior experience or a desire to continue in this field of study, this type of project provides a good overview of the process of researching and interpreting a “shipwreck.” The satisfaction of creating an actual exhibit and contributing to the field was �for many an exciting way to experience a taste of what maritime archaeology is all about. Acknowledgments I would like to thank the Academic Partnerships staff of the Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology, most particularly Diana Loren, Lainie Schultz, Emily Rose, and Andrew Smith, for their enthusiasm and help in making this project a reality. The students of ANTHRO 1218, spring 2016, at Harvard University were a pleasure to work with and deserve all the credit for researching and presenting their “shipwrecks.” I am also in debt to Ted Bestor at the Reischauer Institute of Japanese Studies for facilitating my being able to teach the class, Jason Ur at Harvard’s Anthropology department for being willing to let me do so, the teaching assistants for ANTHRO 1218, and the faculty and staff of RIJS for providing me the opportunity to spend an incredible year there. Works Cited Barrett, A, and T. McGough. “Second Chinese Barge.” https://www.peabody.harvard.edu/node/2644 Accessed July 5, 2017 Gerberich, D. “Reflection.” https://www.peabody.harvard.edu/files/Gerberich%20%20Research%20Reflection.pdf Accessed July 5, 2017. Gilbert, C. “The Sea Dayak War Canoe: A Symbol of the Iban Culture in the late 19th Century.” https://www.peabody.harvard.edu/files/Gilbert_Museum1%20REDACTE D.pdf . Accessed July 5, 2017. Kimball, S. “Examining the Form and Function of an Iban War Canoe.” https://www.peabody.harvard.edu/files/Kimball_museum2.pdf . Accessed July 5, 2017. �Lu, A. “Reflections of a Pirate Archaeologist.” https://www.peabody.harvard.edu/files/Lu%20%20Reflections%20on%20Peabody%20Project.pdf . Accessed July 5, 2017 Metoyer,K.“Peabody Reflection.” https://www.peabody.harvard.edu/files/Metoyer%20Peabody%20Reflecti on.pdf Accessed July 5, 2017. Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology, “Mission.” https://www.peabody.harvard.edu/node/97 President and Fellows of Harvard College, 2009 – 2017. Accessed July 5, 2017 Rose, E. Personal communication. July 12, 2017. Skendarian, T. “Museum Project Reflection.” https://www.peabody.harvard.edu/files/Skendarian%20%20Project%20Reflection.pdf . Accessed July 5, 2017. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource 2017 Session 4: Ensuring a Sustainable Future for UCH: Museums and Public Engagement Description An account of the resource Cultural heritage derives its value from societal contexts, and so public engagement plays an important role in growing support for, and interest in heritage. Engagement may take many forms, from awareness-raising to formal learning programmes to creating platforms for public participation in the process of heritage conservation, governance, and/or interpretation. Papers bridging theoretical and practical approaches to engagement with UCH are particularly welcome, as are papers which offer collaborative and/or participatory models, stakeholder engagement, capacity-building and development, approaches to the particular challenges of engagement with underwater cultural heritage vs other kinds of cultural heritage. Of course heritage exists in a variety of cultural frameworks, and ensuring sustainability requires approaches to engagement to be both responsive and sensitive to the overlapping cultural contexts in which UCH may exist. As a culturally diverse region, the treatment of heritage must be also tailored to cultural definitions, heritage management frameworks and conventions which may, in some cases, differ across jurisdictions/countries and their interests. The panel will also attempt to explore the ways in which UCH is managed within diverse cultural frameworks, and invites papers to examine topics including contested UCH, ownership, security, etc. The panel invites papers exploring significance within local, national and transnational historiographies and the implications for funding and management of UCH. UCH includes material that has been deposited on the seabed as a result of warfare and catastrophe, so papers which explore and/or engage with topics including loss, warfare, conflicted significance and contested heritage are particularly welcome. Other relevant sub-themes include: * Public engagement in the management of UCH * Interpreting maritime cultural heritage for non-specialist audiences * Significance, interpretative potential, stakeholders and support/sustainability * Museums, Education, Outreach and Conservation * Memory, memorials and memorialisation Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Raphael Igombo National Museums of Kenya, Kenya Michelle Damian Monmouth College (IL), USA Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Merging Museums with the Classroom: Using Collections to Teach Maritime Archaeology Description An account of the resource Although there is a growing interest in studying maritime archaeology even at the undergraduate level, it can be a challenge to bring to life for non-divers both the mechanics of an archaeological investigation, but also the joy of discovery and satisfaction of identification of a wreck site. This paper will describe possible alternative methods of recreating that entire process through the use of museum collections. In particular, I will discuss a project undertaken by undergraduates at Harvard University in partnership with the Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology. Students were required to choose a ship model from the museum’s collections and, with very minimal initial information, had to research its historical background and construction techniques, treating it as an archaeologist would a shipwreck site. This paper will introduce the benefits and challenges to both the students and the museums in using this type of approach. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Michelle Damian Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available The Museum of Underwater Archaeology Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 11/24/2017 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Michelle Damian Asia-Pac Session 4 2017 https://apconf-much.org/proceedings/files/original/17291874e7ef263dbc64101b93659651.mp4 cf349fe3df869eaeabcd2eb606730b42 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource 2023 Session 15: The Archaeology of Submerged Landscapes and Inland Waters Subject The topic of the resource Session 15 papers Description An account of the resource Papers presented at Session 15 of the 2023 Asia Pacific Regional Conference on Underwater Cultural Heritage Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Asia Pacific Regional Conference on Underwater Cultural Heritage Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available The Museum of Underwater Archaeology Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource November 2023 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Asia Pacific Regional Conference on Underwater Cultural Heritage Language A language of the resource English Rights Holder A person or organization owning or managing rights over the resource. 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Title A name given to the resource Interview with Shinatria Adhityatama - Chair of Session 15: The Archaeology of Submerged Landscapes and Inland Waters Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Shinatria Adhityatama Michelle Damian Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available The Museum of Underwater Archaeology Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2023 Language A language of the resource English Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource MP4 Asia-Pac Session 15 2023 https://apconf-much.org/proceedings/files/original/357b139486dc5802b5f497c00508c103.mp4 7328ff7d12963068ef5d3cad63ed3148 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource 2023 Session 24: Recovering dispersed and salvaged legacy collections of UCH in Southeast Asia Subject The topic of the resource Session 24 papers Description An account of the resource Papers presented at Session 24 of the 2023 Asia Pacific Regional Conference on Underwater Cultural Heritage Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Asia Pacific Regional Conference on Underwater Cultural Heritage Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available The Museum of Underwater Archaeology Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource November 2023 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Asia Pacific Regional Conference on Underwater Cultural Heritage Language A language of the resource English Rights Holder A person or organization owning or managing rights over the resource. 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Title A name given to the resource An interview with Pearson and Polkinghorne - Co Chairs of Session 24: Recovering dispersed and salvaged legacy collections of UCH in Southeast Asia Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Pearson Polkinghorne Michelle Damian Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available The Museum of Underwater Archaeology Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2023 Language A language of the resource English Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource MP4 Asia-Pac Session 24 2023 https://apconf-much.org/proceedings/files/original/89001548fb93ec839763bf518e7b00f4.JPG c6eed4b5404725c1dd798daffe868940 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Proceedings of the 2023 Asia Pacific Regional Conference on Underwater Cultural Heritage Description An account of the resource Papers presented at the 2023 Asia Pacific Regional Conference on Underwater Cultural Heritage Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Asia Pacific Regional Conference on Underwater Cultural Heritage Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available The Museum of Underwater Archaeology Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource November 2023 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Asia Pacific Regional Conference on Underwater Cultural Heritage Language A language of the resource English Rights Holder A person or organization owning or managing rights over the resource. Asia Pacific Regional Conference on Underwater Cultural Heritage Still Image A static visual representation. Examples of still images are: paintings, drawings, graphic designs, plans and maps. Recommended best practice is to assign the type "text" to images of textual materials. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Proceedings Cover image Subject The topic of the resource Hong Kong Harbor Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Michelle Damian Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available The Museum of Underwater Archaeology Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 11/9/2023 https://apconf-much.org/proceedings/files/original/c081b0871bbbf0b6fa0c240448dda2e9.pdf 97ffa952a72b3f784b89a76daa8e250c PDF Text Text Early Modern Japanese Whaling: An Iconographic Study Michelle Damian (University of Wisconsin-Whitewater, Assistant Professor of History) ABSTRACT Small museums can be the repository of mighty collections. The New Bedford Whaling Museum (NBWM) in Massachusetts, USA, is one such example. The NBWM holds a significant collection of artwork depicting early modern (17th – 19th c) Japanese whaling. A systemic analysis of the imagery in these pieces allows us to learn more about the equipment and strategies used in whaling in the early modern period. This paper provides an initial review of those collections, highlighting the types of vessels used, tools and other equipment, and important shoreline infrastructure associated with whaling that are depicted in the artwork. Keywords: Whaling, Japan, Museums, Artwork Abbreviations: NBWM (New Bedford Whaling Museum) List of Figures Figure 1. A typical representation of a chase boat. Maker once known (Japanese). Geigyo Hinshu Zukan [Fourteen Varieties of Whales], 1760. Watercolor on paper, 10.5 in. x 20.25 ft. (26.7 x 6.2 m.) New Bedford Whaling Museum, Gift of the Kendall Whaling Museum, 2001.100.4456. Image courtesy of the New Bedford Whaling Museum. Figure 2. Spearhead with tang revealed, showing holes for ropes and fasteners. After Yuyuken Kizaki (Japanese). Shoni no Moteasobi Kujira Ikken no Maki [Net Whaling in Hizen Province, Kyushu], 1817. Watercolor on paper, 10.5 in. x 27.5 ft. (26.7 cm x 8.4 m.) New Bedford Whaling Museum, Gift of the Kendall Whaling Museum, 2001.100.4426. Image courtesy of the New Bedford Whaling Museum. Figure 3. Maker once known. Whaling Scene on the Coast of Japan, 1855. Engraving on paper, 6 x 9.25 in. (15.2 x 23.5 cm.) New Bedford Whaling Museum, Gift of the Kendall Whaling Museum, 2001.100.10758. Image courtesy of the New Bedford Whaling Museum. Figure 4. Hiroshige Shigemasa III (Japanese, 1843-1894). Kagura Nite Hikiageru Zu [Pulling in by a Kagura Winch], c. 1877. Woodblock on paper, 6.25 x 9 in. (16.1 x 22.5 cm.) New Bedford Whaling Museum, Gift of the Kendall Whaling Museum, 2001.100.6666. Image courtesy of the New Bedford Whaling Museum. INTRODUCTION At first glance, a small museum in Massachusetts (USA) does not appear to be an ideal location to conduct research on early modern (17th – 19th c) Japanese whaling. And yet the New Bedford Whaling Museum (NBWM) is just that. Their collections naturally focus on New Bedford as a port city and the history of whaling culture in the New England region. In 1843, however, a whaling ship returned to New Bedford with a Japanese castaway, sparking a strong relationship between Japan and this Massachusetts coastal town. Furthermore, the museum also enjoys a close association with Taiji, a town in Japan famous for its modern whale hunts. The curator of the town of Taiji’s historical materials serves as an advisory guest curator for the NBWM. 1 With these ties in mind, it becomes clearer why Frank Sowa, ‘Seaside Communities in Crisis: On the Construction of Collective Identity in a Japanese Whaling Town after the Moratorium,’ Annuals of Marine Sociology/Roczniki Socjologii Morskiej 23 (2015): 33. The Taiji Whale Digital Museum (https://kujira-digital-museum.com/en/categories/12/articles/) further notes that several scrolls depicting whaling near Taiji are owned by both the Taiji museum and the NBWM, and the NBWM also holds reproductions of some of the scrolls owned by Taiji. 1 1 �the NBWM has nearly nine hundred Japan-related items in its museum and library collections. This paper will provide some examples of what we can learn about early modern Japanese whaling and its infrastructure from those artifacts. THE NBWM COLLECTIONS For the purposes of this study, I focused on the NBWM sources related to early modern Japanese whaling. My intent was to learn more about the strategies of whaling in the early modern period via the artwork created at the time, and to catalog the vessels and equipment, capture and processing techniques, and evidence of shore support. I was able to view approximately 50 items at the museum. 2 19 were scrolls, 17 were woodblock prints, and the remainder were a variety of engravings, sketchbooks, and other types of artwork. The medium mattered for content analysis. Woodblock prints featuring whales generally fell into the ‘landscape print’ genre, showcasing scenes with whales as a novelty. When whale hunts were shown, usually the images were less detailed and the scene was depicted from afar, as though an observer was watching from shore. Woodblock prints were mass-produced for a popular audience, commemorating a notable scene, and so they were perhaps trying to recreate that outsider, observer’s view. Scrolls, however, appear to have been made more for insiders, used as a means to disseminate information about whales and whaling. They could be as long as approximately 10 meters, though many were shorter. Many begin with a brief textual introduction and a scene consisting of a whaleboat, a harpoon, and a spear – effectively showcasing the tools of the trade. This was often followed by depictions of several types of whales, likely the ones most hunted in that region. Some scrolls included more details of whale anatomy, providing diagrams of how to butcher it. Still others showed scenes of the whale hunt itself, from the chase to the kill, then towing it back to shore and processing the carcass, and in some cases even showing the celebrations after a successful hunt. Many of the scrolls are very precise in their detail, providing a type of manual for whaling. The scrolls appear to be more representative of whaling hunts overall, and provide information on the types of vessels and equipment used in whaling. 3 Perhaps the most important scroll is the Isanatori Ekotoba. Published in 1832 in Edo (modern Tokyo), it recounts details of whaling done by the Masutomi whaling group based in Ikitsukishima (modern Nagasaki prefecture). 4 Far more detailed than most of the other scrolls preserved in the NBWM, the illustrations are more complex and also include brief descriptions of the equipment, locations, and whales themselves. The range of depictions of whaling throughout all of the artistic examples are rich fodder for information about early modern Japanese whaling. The following sections will provide some examples of what we can learn through careful study of the museum collections, focusing particularly on whaling boats and equipment. WHALING VESSELS Nine scrolls include standalone depictions of whaling vessels, simply presented as a representative boat out of context (Figure 1). The most commonly depicted vessel is the chase boat (seko-bune 勢子船) and some scrolls also include net boats (ami-bune 網船 or sōkaibune 双海船). In most cases the chase 2 Although the museum does have close to 350 Japan-related items in their artifacts collection, and nearly 600 documents in the library, many of them were more modern objects, or alternatively were items brought back from Japan by New Bedford whalers. Early modern items depicting Japanese whaling were more limited. 3 The analysis includes only items that the author was able to view at the museum. There may be more depictions, but if a scroll was on exhibit, for example, only portions of the scroll were visible. 4 Jakobina Arch, Bringing Whales Ashore: Oceans and the Environment of Early Modern Japan (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2018), 128–29. The version in the NBWM is incomplete. 2 �boats are presented at the beginning of the scroll. They are almost uniformly colourful, with flowers and stripes adorning the hull. Most images include a ‘hashtag’ (#) on the stempost, indicating that they were affiliated with the Taiji whaling fleets. 5 While most of the depictions are relatively simplistic, two construction features do stand out: the sharp raked stempost with a decorative end, and the washboard. The latter comes to an end as it nears the stern, and other depictions of the chase boats in action show that that open area was where the rowers gathered to propel the vessels using sculling oars. 6 The Isanatori ekotoba suggests throughbeams are also present in these vessels, though most other depictions do not have that level of detail. As these boats needed to be fast and maneuverable to corral the whale and get close enough to launch harpoons, it stands to reason that the stempost/cutwater would be the most distinctive feature. The tall washboard likely provided some stability for the harpooners as they hurled the weapon at the whale. Figure 1. A typical representation of a chase boat. Maker once known (Japanese). Geigyo Hinshu Zukan [Fourteen Varieties of Whales], 1760. Watercolor on paper, 10.5 in. x 20.25 ft. (26.7 x 6.2 m.) New Bedford Whaling Museum, Gift of the Kendall Whaling Museum, 2001.100.4456. Image courtesy of the New Bedford Whaling Museum. As of the seventeenth century the prevalent way to hunt whales was through using nets to surround and capture the creatures. 7 The fact that only two scrolls specifically depict the net boats out of context is therefore somewhat surprising. One is somewhat amateurly drawn, while the other is in the array of boats depicted in the Isanatori Ekotoba. These boats are larger and wider than the chaser boats, since of course they would need to transport the net and maintain stability after the whale was trapped. Unlike the chase boats, the net boats have a rudder and what appears to be a mast. The masts are unstepped and lay across a horizontal beam supported by two upright posts at the stern of the vessel, and none of the scrolls depict the masts being stepped and used to sail. One scroll appears to show a sailor tugging at the mast as though to step it, perhaps to set a sail to counteract the tugging of the trapped whale, but 5 Hayato Sakurai, ‘Whales Caught on Paper Waves: Scroll Paintings of Whales and Old Japanese Whaling,’ in Whaling and History III (Sandefjord, Norway: Vestfoldmuseene IKS, 2010), 43. 6 Yuyuken Kizaki, Shoni no Moteasobi Kujira Ikken no Maki. New Bedford Whaling Museum, accession # 2001.100.4426 7 Arch, Bringing Whales Ashore: Oceans and the Environment of Early Modern Japan, 63–64. 3 �there is no evidence of a sail in sight. Solid throughbeams are placed at regular intervals in the stern especially, providing stands and support for the rowers. WHALING TOOLS Eight scrolls have detailed depictions of the harpoons and spears used for whaling. These are often found at the beginning of the scroll, showing the tools used for the hunt. In most cases only the blade is shown, without a handle. The reasons for this are unclear, though if these scrolls were indeed meant in part to be a ‘manual for whaling,’ it may be to reveal the holes in the tang and base of the spear blade that would be used to attach it to the pole. One scroll, ‘Whales Caught at Kumano-ura (Ki Peninsula),’ does have labels saying ‘the handle should be attached through this hole,’ indicating the holes in the tang, and another notes the hole in the base as the point to thread the rope through (Figure 2). 8 These are the exceptions rather than the rule, as most scrolls have minimal text associated with the tools beyond a brief description of the ideal length. Figure 2. Spearhead with tang revealed, showing holes for ropes and fasteners. After Yuyuken Kizaki (Japanese). Shoni no Moteasobi Kujira Ikken no Maki [Net Whaling in Hizen Province, Kyushu], 1817. Watercolor on paper, 10.5 in. x 27.5 ft. (26.7 cm x 8.4cm) The harpoons depicted have an asymmetrical head, with one point longer than the other. There seems to have been no set length, as some are described as being between 2 and 3 shaku (60 – 90 cm) long, 8 Anonymous, ‘Whales Caught at Kumano-ura (Ki Peninsula),’ New Bedford Whaling Museum, accession # 2001.100.4462; Shoni no Moteasobi Kujira Ikken no Maki #2001.100.4426 4 �and others suggest over four shaku (120 cm). 9 Two scrolls, the Isanatori ekotoba and a second untitled scroll, show a range of different harpoons, and so the different lengths may have been affiliated with various harpoon styles. The Isanatori ekotoba also displays a remarkably detailed range of rope knots used to secure the harpoon and allow for its recovery. Nets are another critical part of early modern Japanese whaling, yet they are depicted far less often than the harpoons or spears. Only three scrolls show details about whale nets, including how to knot or fasten the ropes to weave the net, and also how to attach the nets to their wooden floats. Two of the three provide dimensions for the floats as well. The Isanatori ekotoba further includes a scene where villagers are weaving the net on shore. Over twenty people are involved in uncoiling the individual ropes and spreading the net out as they weave it. Based on the spectators shown viewing the process, even weaving the nets appears to have been a major endeavor in the town. ONSHORE INFRASTRUCTURE A full analysis of the maritime cultural landscape involved in early modern whaling is beyond the scope of this paper, but two onshore structures should be noted here. Several pieces of artwork include lookouts or winches, both critical parts of the whale hunt and processing experience. Five pieces of artwork (three scrolls, one woodblock print, and one wood engraving) represent lookouts. They are small, permanent structures atop a shoreline hill or mountain. Various means of signaling were used to notify the boats at sea. Some depict a man swinging long white paper strips on a pole, others show flags, and still others suggest that fire/smoke signals were used to signal the presence of a whale. Many have some combination of the above. One of the more notable items in the NBWM collection is a wood engraving from ‘Ballou's Pictorial Drawing Room Companion,’ published in Boston in 1855. 10 The engraving shows 17 boats surrounding a whale, but the lookout is also clearly visible, with two men standing atop the roof of the lookout building, one waving a flag (Figure 3). Accompanying text reads in part, ‘Whaling is an occupation of large numbers of the Japanese, and they are exceeding expert in it, though we will venture to say by no means to be compared with our “Long Tom Coffins” of Nantucket and New Bedford.’ This is followed by a brief description of the whale hunt. 11 In 1855, formal diplomatic relationships between the United States and Japan were just beginning, as Matthew Perry had first arrived in Edo just three years prior. Yet there was obviously interest and awareness of Japanese whaling in Boston at this time, accompanied by a seemingly good-natured sense of rivalry. 9 Niwa Shohaku, ‘Illustrations of Whales,’ New Bedford Whaling Museum, Accession # 2001.100.4465; Anonymous, ‘Geigyo Hinshu Zukan,’ New Bedford Whaling Museum, Accession # 2001.100.4456; ‘Whales Caught at Kumano-ura (Ki Peninsula),’ #2001.100.4462 10 The scene is copied from a work published in 1832 by Phillip Franz von Siebold, a German physician who accompanied the Dutch delegation stationed on Dejima (modern Nagasaki prefecture) from 1823 to 1829. Peabody Museum of Salem, Whaling Prints in the Lothrop Collection, Salem: Peabody Museum of Salem, 1987. 146. 11 Anonymous, ‘Whaling Scene on the Coast of Japan,’ New Bedford Whaling Museum, Accession # 2001.100.10758 5 �Figure 3. Maker once known. Whaling Scene on the Coast of Japan, 1855. Engraving on paper, 6 x 9.25 in. (15.2 x 23.5 cm.) New Bedford Whaling Museum, Gift of the Kendall Whaling Museum, 2001.100.10758. Image courtesy of the New Bedford Whaling Museum. Winches appear in three scrolls and three woodblock prints. They are large, wooden structures with four arms, and two or three men push each arm to wind the rope and drag the whale or its blubber on to shore. All three versions of the woodblock prints – all by different artists – focus on the men pushing the winches, some with facial expressions indicating the effort expended to haul the massive whale. One is part of a triptych, with the other two panels showing a graphic offshore flensing scene. The triptych is labeled as part of a series on ‘Japanese Famous Goods’ in Hizen province, and another is labeled as one of ‘The Great Illustrated Japanese Products’ series (Figure 4). 12 It suggests that the winches were emblematic of whaling and the efforts put in to processing the whales. 12 Kuniyoshi, ‘Nihon Meisan Zukushi. Hizen no Kuni Goto, Hirado, aruiwa Kishu niwa Shoshoura nite Kujira wo Toru Zu.’ New Bedford Whaling Museum, Accession #2001.100.6668; Hiroshige Shigemasa III, ‘Kagura nite hikiageru zu,’ New Bedford Whaling Museum, Accession #2001.100.6666 6 �Figure 4. Hiroshige Shigemasa III (Japanese, 1843-1894). Kagura Nite Hikiageru Zu [Pulling in by a Kagura Winch], c. 1877. Woodblock on paper, 6.25 x 9 in. (16.1 x 22.5 cm.) New Bedford Whaling Museum, Gift of the Kendall Whaling Museum, 2001.100.6666. Image courtesy of the New Bedford Whaling Museum. CONCLUSIONS AND FUTURE STUDIES This preliminary look at the collections of the New Bedford Whaling Museum suggests the rich potential in using artwork to understand more about early modern Japanese maritime cultural heritage. While perhaps not generally useful to understand specific aspects of ship construction for whaling vessels, the array of associated tools, weapons, and infrastructure detailed in the scrolls reveal more about the full maritime cultural landscape associated with early modern whaling in Japan. This is but one group of sources, and museum collections in Japan have additional whaling scrolls that should be brought in for a more comprehensive comparison. The NBWM provides an excellent example of the potential for small museums to hold important collections, and is a reminder not to overlook these types of institutions when conducting research. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS I am indebted to Jordan Berson, Emma Rocha, and Mark D. Procknik at the New Bedford Whaling Museum for opening their collections to me, pulling a large number of items out for viewing in a short period of time, and providing space in the research library for me to take photographs to my heart’s content. I could not have made the trip to conduct this research without financial assistance from the University of Wisconsin-Whitewater and Dean Frank Goza. I also thank Dr. Jenny Craig for her flexibility with my submission of this paper, and Dr. T. Kurt Knoerl for always being a sounding board, editor, and providing moral support. BIBLIOGRAPHY Arch, Jakobina. Bringing Whales Ashore: Oceans and the Environment of Early Modern Japan. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2018. 7 �Digital Whale Museum, ‘Traditional Whaling in Taiji.’ May 29, 2023. https://kujira-digitalmuseum.com/en/categories/12/articles/ Peabody Museum of Salem. Whaling Prints in the Lothrop Collection. Salem: Peabody Museum of Salem, 1987. Sakurai, Hayato. ‘Whales Caught on Paper Waves: Scroll Paintings of Whales and Old Japanese Whaling.’ In Whaling and History III, 37–44. Sandefjord, Norway: Vestfoldmuseene IKS, 2010. Sowa, Frank. ‘Seaside Communities in Crisis: On the Construction of Collective Identity in a Japanese Whaling Town after the Moratorium.’ Annuals of Marine Sociology/Roczniki Socjologii Morskiej 23 (2015): 21–35. 8 � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource 2023 Session 23: Collections-based Research Subject The topic of the resource Session 23 papers Description An account of the resource Papers presented at Session 23 of the 2023 Asia Pacific Regional Conference on Underwater Cultural Heritage Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Asia Pacific Regional Conference on Underwater Cultural Heritage Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available The Museum of Underwater Archaeology Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource November 2023 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Asia Pacific Regional Conference on Underwater Cultural Heritage Language A language of the resource English Rights Holder A person or organization owning or managing rights over the resource. Asia Pacific Regional Conference on Underwater Cultural Heritage Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Early Modern Japanese Whaling: An Iconographic Study Description An account of the resource Small museums can be the repository of mighty collections. The New Bedford Whaling Museum (NBWM) in Massachusetts, USA, is one such example. The NBWM holds a significant collection of artwork depicting early modern (17th – 19th c) Japanese whaling. A systemic analysis of the imagery in these pieces allows us to learn more about the equipment and strategies used in whaling in the early modern period. This paper provides an initial review of those collections, highlighting the types of vessels used, tools and other equipment, and important shoreline infrastructure associated with whaling that are depicted in the artwork. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Michelle Damian Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available The Museum of Underwater Archaeology Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2023 Language A language of the resource English Bibliographic Citation A bibliographic reference for the resource. Recommended practice is to include sufficient bibliographic detail to identify the resource as unambiguously as possible. Damian, Michelle . 2023. “Early Modern Japanese Whaling: An Iconographic Study.” Edited by Jennifer Craig, Jay Mok, and T. Kurt Knoerl. Proceedings of Fifth Asia Pacific Regional Conference on Underwater Cultural Heritage: Gwangju, The Republic of Korea, November 13-18 2023. The Museum of Underwater Archaeology. URL: https://apconf.omeka.net/exhibits/show/apconfproceedings/item/2020 Asia-Pac Session 23 2023 https://apconf-much.org/proceedings/files/original/66d8200bc2f3091ec079fa026710224a.pdf c8127be33aae14cf801b44353b7a1d1c PDF Text Text A Geographic Analysis of Traders and Trade Goods in Japan’s Late Medieval Seto Inland Sea Michelle Damian University of Southern California, Department of History, Social Sciences Building (SOS) 153, 3502 Trousdale Parkway, Los Angeles, CA 90089-0034 USA Email: mdamian@usc.edu Abstract This paper will discuss ongoing research into the flow of both goods and people in medieval (14th - 16th centuries) Japan’s Seto Inland Sea area. Prior to colonialism and contact with the West, there was already a complex, well developed maritime network in place within Japan that has received little attention. Understanding the extent of the domestic trade network reveals the thriving trade between communities within the Inland Sea, in conjunction with the better known courtcentric tribute and tax system. Examining archaeological and written records concerning trade goods and collaboration among ships’ captains provides a clearer understanding of the networks and developments in this region. Although the foundation for much of this research comes from the documentary record, incorporating the archaeological evidence into a GIS (Geographic Information Systems) database paints a fuller picture of the networks within the Inland Sea before contact with the West. Key words: Medieval Japan, Maritime shipping, GIS (geographic information systems), Trade routes, Bizen pottery Introduction Japan has traditionally been considered a “closed country,” seen as almost entirely removed from any interactions with the rest of the world until contact with the Portuguese in the sixteenth century. Scholars therefore tend to omit discussion of Japan’s role in Asian trade and ignore the established trade networks within the archipelago itself. Janet Abu-Lughod’s Before European Hegemony, though generally an excellent introduction to medieval trade routes beyond Europe, completely excludes Japan even though she devotes an entire chapter to Asia. Official documents clearly show trade connections with China and Southeast Asia throughout the premodern era, and mainland pottery and other goods are regularly 1 �excavated throughout archaeological sites in Japan1. Much of the medieval documentation of the domestic trade, though, shows goods coming from the periphery to the central court in the Kyoto region. While these connections are important to note, it ignores the role played by trade hubs in the provinces on the cusp of contact with the West. Understanding those domestic trade routes will eventually help clarify the role that smaller ports en route to the capital region would have played in transporting foreign goods. Through a geography-based analysis of the domestic trade routes in late medieval Japan, it becomes apparent that the connections and collaborations between different local ports and ship captains facilitated a thriving local trade. Sources and Methodology Though few trade-related documents from the medieval period have survived the centuries, one set of port records provides much information about Inland Sea shipping. The Records of Incoming Ships at the Hyōgo Northern Checkpoint (Hyōgo Kitaseki Irifune Nōchō, below, Records) record data for over 1900 vessels that passed through the checkpoint at Hyōgo, today part of Kobe City, in 1445 and the first two months of 1446 (Hayashiya, 1981). Each dated entry notes the port of registry of the ship, the type and volume of cargoes carried, the taxes levied on the items and dates collected, the name of the ship’s captain and the name of the warehouse manager that handled the incoming items2. As the records show the flow of goods from the provinces to Hyōgo, gateway to the central court region of Kyoto, this collection has been very useful in learning about center-periphery trade relations. By analyzing the imports through a geographical lens, though, the focus becomes on the roles of the provincial ports. From there it is possible to learn more about the connections between those provincial ports and understand more about regional trade networks. Sets of maritime regulations (Kaisen shikimoku or kaisen taihō) also reveal additional information about seafaring practices in the medieval period 3. The dates of these regulations are disputed, as the language used and the age of the extant 2 �copies suggest a late 16th century author but the dates on the documents themselves are from 1223. Even if they were written in the later era and predated to suggest an established precedent, however, their widespread recopying implies that though the written codification came later, the practices themselves were likely already widely followed. Other information about medieval trade comes from the archaeological record. Unfortunately in many cases there is little archaeological signature for the items noted in the Records, particularly for consumables such as rice, salt, and marine life. Site reports from locations along the Inland Sea help paint a richer picture of the flow of other items such as pottery or iron. Incorporating both the documentary information from the Records with the archaeological evidence into a GIS (Geographic Information Systems) database helps highlight the patterns of trade throughout the Inland Sea, suggesting new relationships between the locales and revealing some previously lesser-known trade hubs. Trade Routes: Commodities The Records note nearly ninety different cargoes being shipped throughout the Inland Sea in 1445. As it is impossible to discuss all of them in depth, this paper will focus on trade patterns for salt, the most traded commodity in the Records, and pottery, best representative of the archaeological signature. Since salt was recorded usually noting its production point (“Aga salt,” “Mihara Salt,” “Bingo Salt,” etc.), it is relatively easy to identify the different shipping routes. Even though (Fig. 1) reflects a large amount of data, the overall color distribution indicates that the salt often was shipped directly to Hyōgo from a port close to its point of production. Mihara salt came from the ports on Awaji Island near the port of Mihara, Katamoto salt from Sanuki province ports near Katamoto, and so on. Looking only at ports that shipped more than five hundred koku (1 koku = approximately 330 lbs) of salt to Hyōgo over the year, however, reveals further information about transshipment trends (Fig. 2). 3 �Fig. 1 All salt shipments in the Records (Michelle Damian) Fig. 2 Ports shipping more than 500 koku of salt in the Records. (Michelle Damian) 4 �One of best examples of an unexpected transshipment hub is Takasaki. Particularly in comparison to its neighbor ports of Onomichi and Setoda, Takasaki was not a major port. It shipped to Hyōgo only about one-third to onequarter of the total amount of goods sent by either Setoda or Onomichi. Yet even Takasaki shipped a smaller quantity of items, it served as a transshipment point for Suō salt, produced in Suō province west of Takasaki. The ports of Fig. 3 Shipments of cloth in the Records. (Michelle Damian) Tomita, Yanai, and Kaminoseki, actually located in Suō, sent less Suō salt to Hyōgo than the six hundred koku shipped from Takasaki in Aki province. The absence of Suō salt in other ports east of Takasaki strongly suggests that Takasaki was the primary destination for ships carrying that cargo. After those ships offloaded their cargo there, it was then in turn sent to Hyōgo. Takasaki’s role becomes even more interesting when other goods and locations are also considered. Cloth often was brought to Japan from the mainland via Kyushu. When mapping the shipments of cloth to Hyōgo in the records, Takasaki and the adjacent Kamagari are apparent as the major suppliers, with Sakihama a distant third (Fig. 3). In considering rice shipments as well, the only port shipping Kyushu rice to Hyōgo is Kamagari. A fourth product named nikomi in the Records is shipped to Hyōgo only from Moji and Kamagari4. Other ports noted in the Records that are closer to Kyushu, including the adjacent ports of Shimonoseki and Moji as well as all of the other Suō province ports, were bypassed by the Kyushu products in favor of the further Takasaki and Kamagari, but did not go as far as the much heavier trafficked Onomichi and Setoda. One possible reason for Takasaki and Kamagari’s favored role may have been an attempt to protect cargo shipments. The seas around the islands immediately to the west of Takasaki are home to strong currents and treacherous waters. Moreover, slightly southwest of Takasaki but east of 5 �Setoda were islands inhabited by pirate clans as early as the mid-1300s (Shapinsky, 2005: 147). In the Records, ships coming from the western ports were generally larger but less frequent than their counterparts from the eastern ports. Their captains would therefore have had to maneuver their large ships through dangerous shoals with which they were less familiar, and needed to defend against piracy to boot. Transshipping at Takasaki or Kamagari would have allowed them to transfer their goods to captains in smaller ships that were more familiar with the waters, without crossing over the more treacherous areas to Onomichi and Setoda. Items that allow the incorporation of the archaeological record into the analysis provide much more information about the spread of trade goods throughout the Inland Sea. The most obvious of these is in the analysis of pottery. The Records alone note that small jugs (tsubo), were shipped to Hyōgo from Sakai, Katakami, and Inbe (Fig. 4). Suribachi, a shallow bowl used in cooking, were shipped only from Jige, and only once throughout the entire year of records. There is a notation in one shipment from Ushimado that records six suribachi as part of the taxes levied on a shipment of sesame seeds, but as this was not recorded as part of the official taxable cargo it is an unusual case, and cannot necessarily be factored into the analysis of the typical cargo shipments. While the type of pottery unspecified Records, volume of in the is the total shipping from the Bizen area (including the Katakami and Inbe kilns) and the kiln ruins from the Inbe Fig. 4 Bizen pottery in the Records and in archaeological evidence. (Michelle Damian) 6 �area strongly suggest that the majority if not all of the pottery was Bizen ware (San’yo, 1978: 62)5. The pottery coming from Sakai is more questionable, but the pottery was brought in on the same boat that contained Kojima salt, also on the Bizen peninsula. This suggests that that vessel also visited or was shipping items from Bizen, and could therefore have been transporting Bizen ware to Hyōgo as well. While the Records provide information about the flow of Bizen pottery from its production point to Hyōgo, it is only a small part of the entire picture. In looking at archaeological site reports along the Inland Sea, the presence of Bizen ware is ubiquitous. Excavations in terrestrial settlements in Bingo province (Onomichi, Kusado Sengen), Sanuki (Nohara, Michi-shita site), Harima (Aboshi, MurotsuHyōgo)6, and even far inland in Aki (Yoshikawa Genshun site) reveal significant amounts of Bizen ware, ranging from suribachi cooking dishes, to tsubo jars, to larger vats and other implements. Underwater recoveries, which were not systematic excavations but simply pottery discovered through serendipity such as being caught up in fishing nets, also dot the Inland Sea. These are mostly located in the central inland sea area at sites near Naoshima, Aji, and Kugui-no-oki, and likely are the remnants of either shipwrecks or jettisoned cargo. The final type of site is represented only by Mizunoko-iwa, which was a shipwreck site that yielded nearly two hundred pieces of Bizen pottery (San’yo, 1978: 80-81). Looking at the sites alone certainly suggests a wider variety of usage for Bizen ware throughout the inland sea. Not only flowing from the production point east to Hyōgo and the central court, Bizen ware was also shipped out to destinations far west of the kilns. More Kamakura and Muromachi-era Bizen ware has been discovered on Honshu than on the western areas of Shikoku, possibly suggesting more direct interaction with the former area. Two sites are of particular interest. The first is Aboshi in Harima, a destination in between the kilns near Inbe and the checkpoint at Hyōgo. A number of pieces of Bizen pottery from the 15th century were found here, especially larger vats (kame) (Nakagawa, 2008: 119). They show 7 �evidence of use, and as such were likely imported to Aboshi as a final destination (Nakagawa, 2008: 124). Large numbers of pottery found in one area with no signs of usage would have been more likely to indicate a transshipment location. The information from the Records shows Aboshi as a small-to-medium sized port, sending sixty two ships to Hyōgo over the course of the year, most of which carried less than 100 koku of goods. It does not appear to have been a major source of transshipping based on traceable goods, but the evidence of Bizen ware used in Aboshi still suggests that there was direct trade happening with other estates along the Inland Sea. Instead of being a commercial center for incoming and outgoing goods, though, Aboshi was mainly an import destination. The second significant archaeological site is the shipwreck at Mizunoko-iwa. Located approximately six kilometers offshore of Shōdoshima, it is one of the only underwater discoveries of a Muromachi-era shipwreck site to date. Though the ship itself has been lost to the elements, the pottery cache recovered yielded 35 large jars (kame), 71 large jugs (tsubo), 14 small jugs (tsubo) and 66 cooking bowls (suribachi), totaling 189 objects. This provides at least a minimum representation of the number and types of items that would have been shipped longer distances. The ship’s intended final destination is unknown, though it may have been the Kumano area on the Kii peninsula. Bizen ware has often been discovered along the coast of Wakayama prefecture, and the wreck site places a ship leaving the kilns at Katakami and Inbe squarely along that route (San’yo, 1978: 65). The first archaeological evidence of ballast stones used on ships also comes from the Mizunoko site. Although the origin of the ballast stones has not yet been identified, studies have shown that they were not from the region near the kilns, which suggests that the vessel had loaded them at yet another port possibly from the Kishū or Shikoku area (San’yo, 1978: 87-88). The likely route of the voyage from Bizen directly to Kishū, as well as the combination of Bizen ware and ballast from a different location, suggests the direct interaction between two 8 �removed locales, further demonstrating the wide range of domestic ties and trade routes. Trade routes: People The maritime regulations suggest that voyaging together was a common occurrence. Several articles refer to the responsibility of one boat to lend aid to another in trouble, or to rescue individuals in the case of a shipwreck. As the regulations also suggest disputes in the case of allocating profits when cargo was lost or ships were damaged, it is possible that sailors traveling together also acted as witnesses to provide evidence to settle those disputes (Shinjō, 1994: 777). The Records note 171 vessels as edabune (“branch ships”), a term used in the maritime regulations as referring to an accompanying ship on a voyage 7. Understanding that this was a common practice further suggests stronger ties between individual captains. With common Japanese names such as Tarō Jirō or Shirō Gorō – roughly equivalent to trying to research the backgrounds of captains named “Bob” or “Joe” in the English world – and no other corroborating records, scholars have assumed that the captains in the Records were generally untraceable. Captaining a ship is a particular skill, though, particularly in the sometimes treacherous waters of the Inland Sea. In a finite geographical area, it is highly unlikely that there were multiple men with the same names plying the waters simultaneously. Examining the captain’s names through a geographic lens reveals that these individuals were indeed traceable and furthermore highlights collaboration between captains in their voyages. The voyages of Hyōe Tarō are an excellent example of one such ship captain’s network in play. His name appears associated with nine ships registered in Matsue, eight in Mihara, and three in Ushimado (once as primary and twice as secondary captain) (Fig. 5). The ships often arrive within one or two days of each other, and in one case a Hyōe Tarōcaptained vessel from Matsue and Mihara arrive on the same day. Since the same 9 �individual could not be physically captaining both vessels, at first glance it seems impossible that this was the same individual in every case. Fig. 5 Ports affiliated with Hyōe Tarō and his extended network. Considering the names of the captains of other ships that arrived in Hyōgo on the same days, though, the question becomes more complex. The same names appeared regularly, hailing from nearby ports – Yura, Murotsu, Hibi, and the same Matsue, Mihara, and Ushimado, though the majority were registered to Mihara. The table below details the names of the accompanying captains and the ports they were registered to, along with the type (Matsue, Mihara, or Ushimado) of Hyōe Tarō-captained vessel that they arrived in Hyōgo alongside (Table 1). Regardless of whether Hyōe Tarō’s ships were from Matsue or Mihara, the names of the accompanying captains were often the same: Emon Gorō, Mata Gorō, Gorō Tarō and others, mostly from Mihara, accompanied Hyōe Tarō’s boats regularly. 10 �Hyōe Tarō Vessels Port # of Boats* Registry Matsue 9 Accompanying Vessels Accompanying Port Affiliation (s) # of Boats* Captain Emon Tarō Mihara 1 Hibi 1 Gorō Tarō Mihara 3 Mata Gorō Mihara 2 Kanimori Tarō Mihara 3 Taifu Jirō Mihara 1 Mihara 8 Emon Tarō Mihara 6 Gorō Tarō Mihara 3 Mata Gorō Mihara 2 Kanimori Tarō Mihara 1 Yura 1 Taifu Jirō Mihara 1 Emon Jirō Murotsu 3 Hyōe Jirō Matsue 2 Ushimado 3 Gorō Tarō Mihara 1 Emon Jirō Murotsu 1 Hyōe Jirō Matsue 2 * “# of Boats” denotes the total number of vessels captained by the same person from the same port of registry. For example, Hyōe Tarō captained nine total boats from Matsue in 1445. The captains of the accompanying vessels listed to the right may have sailed with Hyōe Tarō’s Matsue boats from one to three times, and sometimes the same individual captained boats registered in different locations (e.g., Emon Tarō who accompanied Hyōe Tarō’s Matsue boats once on a Mihara and once on a Hibi boat). Table 1. Hyōe Tarō boats and networks In looking at cargo carried, all of the cargo from Hyōe Tarō Mihara and Matsue vessels as well as their accompanying ships consisted of Mihara salt, with Hyōe Tarō’s ships often carrying the largest cargo. The Ushimado vessels were exceptions; when Hyōe Tarō was primary captain it carried rice and in both secondary captaincies the cargo was Shima salt. With the common cargos combined with the connections between the individual captains, it seems likely that this was indeed the same Hyōe Tarō affiliated with all of the ships. The maritime regulations suggest that the shipowner and ship’s captain could be the same or could be two different individuals. Hyōe Tarō may have based himself in Mihara where he was accepted into that network of other ships’ captains, and also owned 11 �boats (or in the Ushimado cases where he is listed as secondary captain, perhaps shares in vessels) registered in other ports. If Hyōe Tarō were the shipowner but had someone else piloting his vessel, his name may have been written in the Records as the person primarily responsible for the ship and its cargo. The fact that he was an established member of the extant Mihara-based network allowed his boats from Matsue to join the voyages to Hyōgo, all carrying salt from Mihara. There are many such examples of captains’ networks that are revealed through a geographic analysis of individual names in the Records. The implications of this on the study of medieval Japanese labor practices are worth noting. Skilled workers, such as the ships’ captains, could be affiliated with ships registered to different ports in entirely different provinces. Most studies of medieval laborers focus on the agrarian sector, which were by their nature tied to the land they cultivated. Examining maritime practices shows that labor mobility may have been more possible than had been previously thought. In cases such as Hyōe Tarō’s, if he was indeed the ship owner for the Matsue vessels, it also implies the ability of individuals to own property in diverse regions – a privilege generally thought to have been reserved for members of the upper classes. Examining the geographic ties between the ship’s captains simultaneously suggests the potential for their mobility and their property owning. Conclusion Though this paper focuses on domestic trade routes in medieval Japan before direct interactions with the Western world began, the principles outlined here are still relevant to later maritime connections. This analysis demonstrates the established domestic maritime networks for both people and commodities and suggests transshipment hubs. Particularly in cases such as Takasaki and Kamagari, the geographic tracking of the flow of goods shows the role that relatively smaller ports might have played in transshipping goods from the southern regions. As Western trade was funneled through the offices in Kyushu, additional research will show whether those ports continued in their middleman role in 12 �shipping goods to eastern Japan, or whether their importance faded as infrastructure improved and the threat of piracy was squelched. The captains’ networks may have been useful in facilitating Western trade as well. Peter Shapinsky’s analysis of portolans (nautical charts) from early modern Japan shows their hybrid nature, using a mixture of Western and Asian scripts and iconographies (Shapinsky, 2006: 5). Further, he suggests that the ships’ crews in the 16th century were largely a mixture of nationalities and that the captains were the arbiters of knowledge on board, responsible for the safety of the ship and its crew and therefore for keeping accurate charts and records (Shapinsky, 2006: 15). The maritime networks of the inland sea show that collaboration between captains was already common practice, and could have easily extended their reach in cooperating with foreign captains in later years. The connections shown through this geographic analysis, while focused on domestic trade, are representative of the importance of the Inland Sea region as a shipping center. Privileging the geography and incorporating both documentary and archaeological evidence into the analysis further deepens our understanding of shipping and common maritime practices within medieval Japan. Acknowledgements I am grateful for the opportunity to be a part of the panel that Dr. María Cruz Berrocal and Dr. Mark Staniforth have coordinated. I would like to thank my advisor, Dr. Joan Piggott, for her support at the University of Southern California. Financial support from the USC Provost’s Fellowship and the Fulbright Doctoral Fellowship for research both in the USA and Japan was critical. The Tokyo University Historiographical Institution and Meiji University both generously opened their archives to me. I am indebted to many people for their feedback during this process, but most especially from Dr. Kurt Knoerl and Sachiko Kawai. Endnote 1 For the purposes of this paper, the premodern era is defined as pre-Tokugawa era (i.e., prior to 1603) and the medieval period refers to the Kamakura through Muromachi/Sengoku periods (1185– 1603). The focus of this paper is largely the late medieval as represented by the Muromachi era (1337– 1573). 13 �2 The port of registry was not necessarily the beginning point of each boat’s voyage to Hyōgo, though in many cases it is likely that they were indeed the same. 3 The word “kaisen” literally translates to “ship going from place to place,” and usually refers specifically to a coastal trade ship. Since some of the articles in the regulations refer to riverboats, port regulations, and personnel issues, I have chosen to translate this as “maritime” rules or regulations. 4 The actual meaning of nikomi is unclear. It is thought to have been some kind of fish or marine good. 5 One kiln in the Furōzan area of Inbe was nearly forty meters long, which based on other contemporary kilns suggests that it was producing pottery from at least the early Muromachi era (15th c). 6 Murotsu-Hyōgo is different from the port of Murotsu in the Records. The latter is in Awaji province. 7 Flagships are referred to as honsen/motobune in the maritime regulations. The Records do not denote any boats as honsen, but do have several “nagabune” (longboat) notations which may have been another term for flagship. References Hayashiya, T., (Ed.), 1981. Hyōgo Kitaseki Irifune Nōchō. Chūo Kōron Bijutsu Shuppan, Tokyo. Nakagawa, T., 2008. Ceramics Unearthed at the Furuaboshi Site in Hyogo Prefecture. Trade Ceramics Studies, Vol. 28: 118–125. San’yō, S., (Ed.), 1978. Kaitei No Kobizen: Mizunoko Iwa Gakushutsu Chōsa Kiroku. San’yō Shinbunsha, Okayama-shi, Japan. Shapinsky, P. D., 2006. Polyvocal Portolans: Nautical Charts and Hybrid Maritime Cultures in Early Modern East Asia. Early Modern Japan, Vol. 14: 4-26. Shapinsky, P. D., 2005. Lords of the Sea: Pirates, Violence, and Exchange in Medieval Japan. PhD Dissertation. University of Michigan, Michigan, USA. Shinjō, T., 1994. Chūsei suiunshi no kenkyū. Hanawa Shobo, Tokyo. Michelle Damian has an MA in Maritime Archaeology from East Carolina University and is currently a PhD candidate at the University of Southern California. She has volunteered as Exhibits Editor with the online Museum of Underwater Archaeology (http://www.themua.org) since 2004. Her dissertation focuses on the maritime cultural landscape of Japan’s Seto Inland Sea, combining both written and archaeological evidence to explore maritime practices in the late medieval period (15th - 16th centuries). 14 � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Session 5: Early Modern Colonialism in the Asia-Pacific Region Subject The topic of the resource Introduction interview with session chair María Cruz Berrocal and links to the papers presented in the session. Description An account of the resource Research on early modern colonialism in the Asia-Pacific region makes a fundamental contribution to the study of Global History. In the last decades, historians are highlighting the region's relevance in the transformation of global economy through its role in far-reaching trade networks. The early beginnings of colonialism in the region, as well as the role of non-Angloamerican colonial agents in the shaping of modern world have been also highlighted. Although these debates have been driven largely from history, archaeology must become more prominent for the study of early modern colonialism in the Asia-Pacific region through the study of consumption patterns, environmental effects, demographic impacts, transformation of gender systems brought about by contact, the role of material culture in these first colonial endeavours, and specifically, the important evidence that maritime archaeology can bring to the fore. It is argued in this session that new lines of evidence and argumentation will be found through a history- archaeology joint collaboration. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Dr. María Cruz Berrocal Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource A Geographic Analysis of Traders and Trade Goods in Japan's Late Medieval Seto Inland Sea Description An account of the resource This paper will discuss ongoing research into the flow of both goods and people in medieval (14th - 16th centuries) Japan’s Seto Inland Sea area. Prior to colonialism and contact with the West, there was already a complex, well developed maritime network in place within Japan that has received little attention. Understanding the extent of the domestic trade network reveals the thriving trade between communities within the Inland Sea, in conjunction with the better known court-centric tribute and tax system. Examining archaeological and written records concerning trade goods and collaboration among ships’ captains provides a clearer understanding of the networks and developments in this region. Although the foundation for much of this research comes from the documentary record, incorporating the archaeological evidence into a GIS (Geographic Information Systems) database paints a fuller picture of the networks within the Inland Sea before contact with the West. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Michelle Damian, in Van Tilburg, H., Tripati, S., Walker Vadillo, V., Fahy, B., and Kimura, J. (eds.) Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 5/13/2014 Asia-Pac Session 5 2014 https://apconf-much.org/proceedings/files/original/b7b29178461cc24bda6359dca26ae1cf.pdf 6175e5512607e95311461a44dc54f568 PDF Text Text Border and Shaping of Identities: The Fort of Nuestra Señora del Pilar of Zamboanga, Mindanao (Philippines)1 Miguel Luque-Talaván Complutense University of Madrid, Geography and History Faculty Department of American History I, C./ Profesor Aranguren, s/n C.P. 28040. Madrid, Spain Email: mluque_t@ghis.ucm.es Abstract At the end of the 15th century, Southeast Asia underwent a process of islamisation. Muslim presence in Southern Philippines was strongly fought by the Spaniards since 1570 and until the end of their presence in this archipelago. They named these Muslims moors, due to the similarity they established between them and the Muslims in the Iberian Peninsula. The Philippines was a border territory and the Philippine society was used to live at the edge of the Imperial possessions. The Sulu Sea was a real border zone from a geographical, cultural and historical point of view, whose study allows us to analyse the relations between the Spaniards and the local powers, and vice versa. Within this context, we will focus on the analysis of the history of the Hispanic forts in the island of Mindanao, in particular of the Fort of Nuestra Señora del Pilar of Zamboanga, a really strategic settlement in Southern Philippines, whose historical development allows us to analyse the different policies introduced by the Hispanic Monarchy in these regions subjected to its nominal sovereignty. Key words: Mindanao, Zamboanga, Fort of Nuestra Señora del Pilar, Piracy, Sulu Sea Mindanao, Sulu and Northern Borneo in the context of the Governorate and Captaincy General of the Philippine Islands, Border Issues At the end of the 15th century, Southeast Asia and China had begun their process of islamisation. Generally speaking, it can be said that commercial trade was what brought Islam to these regions via the commercial routes that crossed Northern Africa and Asia (Dupuis, 1975: 274; Al Faruqi and Lamya Al Faruqi, 1986; Robinson and Brown, 1992: I, 88-95; Guermon Prez, 1996: 392-395). Since 1500, there were Muslim population centres established along the Burmese coast, northern Sumatra and Malacca. And it was from that last place from where they established themselves in northern Borneo, the islands of Sulu, and Mindanao; as well as in the northern coast of Java, southern Borneo and the islands of Ternate and Ambon - in the Archipelago of the Moluccas - (Montero y Vidal, 1888: I, 88-95; Luque Talaván, 1998; Majul, 1999: 39-88). Muslim presence in the southern Philippines would be fought by 1 �the Spaniards. It was a conflict that, in a certain manner and in the minds of many Spanish people of the age, prolonged the fight against Islam that had been developed in the Peninsula from 711 to 14922. Particularly because of the pressure exerted by the Spaniards, the islamised Philippine indigenous population was reduced geographically speaking and in the 19th century - to a few isolated settlements in the south-eastern coast of Mindanao, a coastal strip located at the south of the same island than then connected with a territory called Cotabato, larger in area, that narrowed again until it came to the Spanish settlement of Zamboanga, close to which some small Muslim emplacements were located. The Sulu Archipelago was under complete Muslim authority, except for the three spots that Spain kept under control: the village of Isabela and an inland fort - both in the island of Basilan -, and another emplacement in the northern coast of the island of Sulu. It was also Muslim territory all the southern coast of Paragua or Palawan, the island of Balabac and the Cagayan Sulu, as well as the northern coast of Borneo. It can be seen how their presence especially in Mindanao was interrupted by the existence of small Spanish settlements usually military settlements; which were more abundant in the northern coast of the island than in the southern coast; as well as by large areas occupied by the insular indigenous groups3. Muslim piracy in the Philippines as an origin of border tension The hostile activity of many Philippines’ Muslim leaders marred the relationships between them and the Spanish authorities who considered them to be pirates; who used force in order to terminate a conflict that never came to an end. Hundreds of lives were lost in these costly armed conflicts, which also turned out to be, from an economic point of view, very expensive for the Spanish treasury. From the beginning of its presence in the Archipelago, the ongoing concerns that Spain had about this conflict were felt by several Spanish authors who wrote various books about this matter. Those writings, heavily eurocentric, intellectually fed entire generations that came to identify every Philippine Muslim known as moros with pirates, slave traders, cruel, bloodthirsty individuals, etc. This assessment led, in turn, to a whole new historiography and literature in which the perception of the other, the different, in this 2 �case the Muslim, deserves a new in depth analysis that is still pending (Luque Talaván, 1999: 57-86). Fortresses for a border It was not only historiography that reflected this matter, but in the Philippine coasts, out of the necessity of protecting themselves from pirates, a whole architecture for defensive-offensive purposes arose. It was composed of small forts for protection and watchtowers on high places to prevent attacks (Javellana, 1997; Caulín Martínez and Luque Talaván, 2002: 205-215). From an anthropological perspective, this architecture shows the border tension and the sense of insecurity and intolerance against what was considered to be different, strange and diverse (Lisón Tolosana, 1997: 141). Those defences, which we can refer to as static, coexisted with the dynamic defences depicted by the coastguard vessels in Philippine waters. These tasks, that showed little effectiveness in most of the cases, were already represented in the second half of the 18th century by a squad created in 1775 by the Governor and Captain General Simón de Anda y Salazar (1770-1776). Sometime after that, the same squad, under the governance of his successor José de Basco y Vargas (1778-1787), would be baptised as marina sutil (Montero y Vidal, 1888: I, 73-75; Martín Onrubia, 2006/2007: 155-159). All this contributed to make the Philippines a border territory in which society was used to live at the edge, or at the forefront, of the Imperial possessions, with all the associated risks. Therefore, the Sulu Sea became a real border zone from a geographical, cultural and historical point of view. These Muslim states had a strong maritime nature, with a very peculiar organisational system that had to be in contact with the international economy present in the area Chinese and Spanish, mainly and the rapid progress of the European colonialism and modernity. Its strategic position in an area of high commercial value progressively turned Mindanao, and especially Sulu, into a well developed area with a very vital economy where Europeans and Chinese traders too sought to acquire swallows’ nests, pearls, sponges, among other products; whereas the Muslims got in exchange goods they appreciated more, like firearms, textiles, etc. (Spoehr, 1968: 177-185; Warren, 1999; Warren, 2000: 7-8; Ollé, 2002; Malcampo, 2007; Crick, 2013: 86-97). 3 �Several campaigns against the Philippine Muslims were carried out already since the 17th century; even if it was during the first half of the 19th century, and more specifically during the mandate of Lieutenant General Narciso Clavería y Zaldúa, Count of Manila (1844-1849), when piratical activity took its biggest blows. In our view, Spain was interested in the eradication of piratical activity in Philippine waters for three main reasons: first, to protect the islands’ internal and external trade; second, to safeguard the christianised and hispanised Philippine villages that were usually under attack; and third and last, to avoid that other European powers like France or England, under the pretext of eradicating piracy, took control of the southern Philippines, as they had tried to do a few times before. To these reasons could be added the Crown’s intentions to harm the trade routes existent in the Muslim regions, in order to take away resources, and hence autonomy of action, from them. Hispanisation and construction of the Hispanic space in the southwest of the Philippine Islands, Life in military prisons During the second half of the 16th century and even afterwards, it can be considered that, in zones like the Philippine Islands, missions and prisons formed systems vanguard and protection of the Hispanic possessions4. The military occupation of the archipelago always suffered from a chronic lack of men and, for that reason, it was often necessary to enlist local natives. For example, we can mention that on 21 April, 1609, the Governor and Captain General of the Philippines Juan de Silva, only had five Spanish infantry companies; and on 26 June, 1626, the interim Governor Juan Niño de Tábora took 600 Spanish infantry soldiers and some veteran captains from the Flanders campaigns (Alía Plana, 1993: 18, note number 11). Many of the men sent to serve as soldiers in the archipelago had arrived to that destination to serve sentences for crimes committed: homicide, estupro, bigamy, sodomy, adultery, concubinage, and domestic abuse among others. There were also crimes such as vagamundeo, gambling, or desertion of the army. Some of these crimes were also accompanied by, apart from harsh destinations in Zamboanga or the Mariana Islands, spiritual punishments given by the Spanish Inquisition. Given the different types of offences, the time of punishment of duty in the islands was variable. The longer periods of sentence that have been documented correspond to ten years, and they often punished a sexual 4 �type of crime committed in New Spain. In the prisons, the psychological pressure exerted by the environment and the hard conditions of life to which the soldiers were subjected (badly supplied, late payments, poor diet, etc.) put them in extreme situations that caused different responses. One of the cases that the Spanish authorities watched the most was that of those prisoners who renounced the Catholic faith and converted to Islam. This was then a border society that certainly gave origin to a new kind of man yet to be studied (García de los Arcos, 1996: 118-119; Luque Talaván, 2011: 165-190). The Fort of Nuestra Señora del Pilar of Zamboanga (Mindanao) As it usually happens with other cases, the history of this fortress perfectly summarises the situation of the Philippines during the Spanish rule. Since its establishment in 1635, it had to be abandoned in 1662 - together with the prisons of Terrenate, Calamianes and Iligan - by order of the then Governor and Captain General Sabiniano Manrique de Lara (1653-1663). The reason was the necessity to concentrate the few insular forces in Manila, with the objective of reinforcing the defences of the capital regarding a possible attack of the Chinese senior official Coseng or Cogsenya. A Real Cédula [Royal Decree] of 30 December, 1666 promulgated by Mariana of Austria, Queen Regent of Spain, ordered its restoration. The measure could not be applied until 1718, though (Ortiz de la Tabla Ducasse, 1974: 197-201; Molina, 1984: I, 127; Prieto Lucena, 1985: 116-140)5. In this section, we will examine its situation at a particular time of its history. For that purpose, we will make use of a very interesting written and illuminated work, product of the initiative of the Governor and Captain General Fernando Valdés Tamón (1729-1739), that gave a description of the state of the fortifications of the Philippines; and that was made in 1739 (Cuesta Domingo and Infante, 1995; Luque Talaván, 2010: 239-255). In 1739, the Fort of Nuestra Señora del Pilar of Zamboanga, under the command of a Governor, was built with lime and pebble, rectangular shape and four bastions. It had a rampart at the entrance to the town, by the sea, that encircled it from the east and the south; where it externally had a stockade too. To the west, where there was a door, it had a marsh acting as a moat. To the north, where it faced the town, there was a man-made moat. On the other hand, the annexed town had its own and well planned fortification system. 5 �The defensive system of Mindanao also had, at that time, the forts of San José of Cagayan, San Francisco Javier of Iligan, Santiago of Dapitan - these three under the jurisdiction of the province of Cebu -; and the ones of San José of Tandag, San Francisco of Cateel and San Juan Bautista of Linâo - these three in the province of Caraga6. A new list of the state of the islands’ fortresses made in 1753 by order of Francisco José de Ovando y Solís, Marquis of Ovando, Governor and Captain General of the Philippine Islands (1750-1754), allows us to know that the fort of Zamboanga had 586 soldiers and seventy three cannons back then; being the one with the biggest number of personnel after the fort of the insular capital, which gives us a precise idea of its importance in the Philippine fortifications system (Ortiz de la Tabla Ducasse, 1974: 180-181)7. This was a border territory in a constant state of conquest that was at the same time both vanguard and preliminary position of the territories subjected to the sovereignty of the Spanish Monarchy. The strategic interest of this position is obvious; but we have to remember once again that its location was a busy commercial trade zone between the southern Philippines and the Moluccas, Borneo, China and other Southeast Asian places. Final thoughts Under some of the parameters set out above it is not difficult to imagine that the relationships with the indigenous populations of the area not only were not fluid, but in many cases difficult. With more detailed studies of the existent documentation we will undoubtedly be able to start assessing their exact terms. There is no uniform culture. And the space that is the focus of the attention in this current work is good proof of that. This environment would be a multicultural space, where a juxtaposition of human groups in a specific space of contact existed (García Canclini, 2005: 15-16, 29-Ss., y 101)8. The perception of the moro as an enemy was discussed by some Hispanic authors at the end of the 19th century. Thus, José Nieto Aguilar maintained that the Malayan-Muslim “(…) until today, has only met the castila as a soldier or as an intolerant friar and enemy of his religion”. Hence his hostile attitude and that Nieto Aguilar held that a change in the policy towards them was needed (Nieto Aguilar, 1893: 159; Luque Talaván, 1999: 57-86). 6 �It might perhaps be time for us experts to start to reinterpret the sources and the old historiography in order to stop seeing the Malayan-Muslim attacks to the Hispanic interests in the Philippines as mere piratical attacks. More than that, it is probable that the Muslim states of the southern Philippines, eager to maintain their independence, used these attacks to destabilise the castilas and slow down their expansion in the territories of Mindanao and Sulu. Towards that goal, some European powers supported the Muslims in their purposes, not because they were interested in their sovereignty, but because they wanted, on the one hand, to weaken the Spanish power in the region and, on the other hand, to take advantage of one of the most active and rich markets of Southeast Asia. Fortresses, like the one of Nuestra Señora del Pilar of Zamboanga, served as both offensive and defensive emplacements; as well as living and imprisonment spaces, depending on the circumstances. Life in the border was not simple for the soldiers stationed there. Its distance from the metropolitan and viceroyal centers of power and its proximity to the feared Muslim enemy must have activated survival mechanisms in the soldiers that remain to be revealed. The study of the border, and of its other side, enables a better understanding of ours. As Carlo Lisón Tolosana maintains: “The encounter, the communication, are given in the privileged space of the border. In reality, we are always at the border, we are a border. We constantly need to cross the wall in order to anthropologically see us from the outside and at distance and begin to get to know and re-know us. From the other side, we see us as incomplete, unfinished, surmountable. Border tension enriches us, it is a source of knowledge, it humanises us” (Lisón Tolosana, 1997: 141). And while this is true, it is nevertheless clear that the border is much more than that: it is a space of polysemy, of territories division, of conflict, of relationships of varying intensity, of cultural, symbolic exchange, etc. cultural confrontations that, sometimes, caused differences; and, sometimes, contributed to the homogenisation (Grimson, 2000; García Canclini, 2005). In the case of the military prisons of Southern Philippines, that “clash” served to mark differences and configure an identity among the Spanish community in confrontation with the native populations, considered to be enemies. 7 �Acknowledgements I am particularly grateful for the commentaries of José María Fernández Palacios, and the translation of José Luis Sedano Rosa. Endnote 1 This investigation is part of the research project: “Atlas etnohistórico y topogenético de las islas Filipinas” -reference: HAR2010-21063-HIST-, funded by the Ministry of Economy and Finance (Spain). 2 A testimony of this was given on July 3, 1753 by friar Pedro de la Santísima Trinidad Martínez y Arissala, archbishop of Manila: (“Asia/ Breve/ Resumen y Discurso/ en que se prueba ser el unico medio/ y el menos costoso y el mas/ util para librar las/ islas Philipinas/ de la Piratería y gravisimos males/ que cada año hacen los/ Moros/ convecinos en ellas/ en lo Sagrado y Profano/ La Guerra continua/ en sus Casas y tierras sin oir jamas/ tratado alguno de/ Paz, Alianza, ni Tregua/ con una Armada de quatro Galeras/ y ocho ó diez Pancos, que comanda-/se un General practico con in-/depedencia del Governador/ del Presidio de/ Samboangan. //”. The British Library (London). Manuscripts Room. Add. 17, 624, folios 78 recto – 89 recto). 3 Although the Spaniards gave the generic name moros to all the islamised groups inside the Philippine territory, under that generic name existed and exist several different groups. The most well known are the Tausug, the Samai, the Yakan, the Bajau, the Maranao, the Magindanao and the Ilanon. In Mindanao, the non-islamised populations are grouped under the generic name Mindanao Iumad, formed by eighteen ethinic groups (Zamora, 1992: 311). 4 About another border area of the novohispanic viceroyalty, see Páez Flores, 2002: 28. 5 Archivo General de Indias (Seville) —from now on AGI—, Filipinas, 201, N. 1, “Expediente sobre el restablecimiento del presidio de Zamboanga” (1665-1686). 6 Relacion en que, de orden de su Magestad Catholica (Dios le guarde) se declaran las Plazas, Castillos, Fuerzas, y Presidios de las Provincias sugetas à su Real Dominio en las Yslas Philipinas … Formada por el mariscal de campo don Fernando Valdès Tamon, à cuio cargo es el Govierno de dichas Yslas. Año 1739 (Real Biblioteca. Palacio Real. Madrid, folios 28 recto – 39 recto, y 61 recto y vuelto). 7 AGI, MP-Libros-Manuscritos, 81, “Descripciones con planos y figuras de la capital de Manila, puerto de Cavite, fuerzas de los presidios y otras fortificaciones en todo el distrito de las provincias que sugeta el real dominio en las Yslas Filipinas … Año de 1753”, XIV: Fuerza de Nuestra Señora del Pilar de Zamboanga en la isla de Mindanao, folios. 53 vuelto - 59 vuelto. 8 About the border and the ethnic groups, see Barth, 1982. References Al Faruqi, I. R., L. Lamya Al. Faruqi, 1986. The Cultural Atlas of Islam. Macmillan Publishing Company, New York. Alía Plana, J. Mª., 1993. El Ejército Español en Filipinas. El periodo romántico. Tabapress, [Madrid]. Barth, F., (Ed.), 1982. Ethnic Groups and Boundaries. The Social Organization of Culture Difference. [2nd Reprint]. Universitetsforlaget, Oslo – Bergen – TromsØ. Caulín Martínez, A., M. Luque Talaván, 2002. Don Francisco Ramos y Bascuñana (1845-1917): un General de Brigada hellinense en Filipinas. In VV.AA., Segundo Congreso de Historia. Volumen IV. Edad Contemporánea, Instituto de Estudios Albacetenses “Don Juan Manuel”, Excma. Diputación de Albacete, Albacete: 205-215. 8 �Crick, M., 2013. L´archipel philippin et le commerce du Nanhai (IXe – XVIe siècle). In VV.AA., Philippines, archipel des échanges, [Ouvrage publié à l´occasion de l´exposition “Philippines, archipel des échanges”, présentée au Musée du Quai Branly à Paris, du 9 avril au 14 juillet 2013], Musée du Quai Branly, Paris: 86-97. Cuesta Domingo, M., Infante, V., (Ed.), 1995. Report in which, by order of His Catholic Majesty (May God protect him), the strongholds, castles, forts and garrisons of the provinces under his Royal Dominion in the Philippine islands are listed by Fernando Valdés Tamón. Editorial Turner: Banco Santander de Negocios, Madrid / Manila. Dupuis, J., 1975. Asia meridional. Editorial Ariel (Colección Elcano. La geografía y sus problemas. Serie de Geografía Universal. Serie II; núm. 4), Barcelona. García Canclini, N., 2005. Diferentes, desiguales y desconectados. Mapas de la interculturalidad. Editorial Gedisa (Colección CLA.DE.MA), Barcelona. García de los Arcos, Mª F., 1996. Forzados y reclutas: Los criollos novohispanos en Asia (1756-1808). Potrerillos Editores, México, D.F. Grimson, A. (comp.), 2000. Fronteras, naciones e identidades. La periferia como centro. Ediciones Ciccus La Crujía (Colección Signo. Serie Comunicación y Cultura), Buenos Aires. Guermon Prez, J. F., 1996. “Insulindio (mundo)”. In P. Bonte, M. Izard, Diccionario de Etnología y Antropología, Akal Ediciones, Madrid: 392-395. Javellana, R. B., 1997. Fortress of Empire. Spanish Colonial fortifications of the Philippines. 1565-1898. Bookmark, Inc., Makati City. Lisón Tolosana, C., 1997. Antropología de la frontera. In C. Lisón Tolosana, Las máscaras de la identidad. Claves antropológicas. Editorial Ariel (Ariel Antropología), Barcelona. Luque Talaván, M., 2011. En las fronteras de lo lícito: vida privada de los militares destacados en el suroeste de las islas Filipinas (siglos XVII-XVIII). In M. Mª. Manchado López; M. Luque Talaván (coord.). Fronteras del mundo hispánico: Filipinas en el contexto de las regiones liminares novohispanas. Prólogo de A. García-Abásolo. Universidad de Córdoba, Servicio de Publicaciones, Córdoba: 165-190. Luque Talaván, M., 2010. Iberoasia y el Pacífico español. Su imagen a través de los siglos. In M. Cuesta Domingo; M. Luque Talaván (Ed. and Coord.), Imago Mundi. 9 �Mapas e imprenta. [Catálogo de exposición. Biblioteca Histórica “Marqués de Valdecilla”, de la Universidad Complutense de Madrid, 11 de noviembre de 2010 a 18 de febrero de 2011], Universidad Complutense de Madrid, Madrid: 239-255. Luque Talaván, M., 1999. La piratería malayo-mahometana en Mindanao, Joló y norte de Borneo y su reflejo en la historiografía (siglos XVII-XX). Perspectivas Históricas. Historical Perspectives. Perspectivas Historiques (México, D.F.), 4 (enero-diciembre): 57-86. Luque Talaván, M., 1998. Mindanao, Joló y Norte de Borneo en la obra de Don Nicolás Enrile. El “Estracto Histórico de los Hechos más Notables que han Tenido Lugar al Sur del Archipiélago en el presente Siglo” (1800-1850). In VV.AA., 1ª Conferenza Internazionale di Studi sulle Isole Filippine: “Le Filippine tra Oriente ed Occidente: passato, presente e futuro”, Associazione Culturale “Italia-Filippine”, Reggio Calabria (Italia). [Actas no publicadas]). Luque Talaván, M., 1997. Narciso Clavería y Zaldúa: Gobernador y Capitán General de las islas Filipinas (1844-1849). Revista Complutense de Historia de América (Madrid), 23: 209-246. Majul, C. A., 1999. Muslims in the Philippines. University of the Philippines Press, Diliman, Quezon City. Malcampo, H. P., 2007. History of Zamboanga. Pre-Spanish and Spanish Period, 14001900. Western Mindanao State University Press, Balisawan, Zamboanga City. Martín Onrubia, M., 2006/2007. La actuación gubernamental contra la piratería malayomahometana de Filipinas durante el mandato del mariscal de campo Pascual Enrile (1827-1835). Revista Española del Pacífico (Madrid), 19-20: 153-173. Molina, A. M., 1984. Historia de Filipinas. Ediciones Cultura Hispánica del Instituto de Cooperación Iberoamericana, Madrid, Volume I. Montero y Vidal, J., 1888. Historia de la piratería malayo-mahometana en Mindanao, Joló y Borneo. Imprenta y Fundición de Manuel Tello, Madrid, volume I. Nieto Aguilar, J., 1893. Colonización de Filipinas. Estudios prácticos acerca de la colonización con elementos peninsulares, de nuestras posesiones oceánicas. Reseña geográfico-geológico-minera de las mismas. Prólogo de A. Sáenz de Urraca. Establecimiento Tipográfico de Alfredo Alonso, Madrid. 10 �Ollé, M., 2002. La empresa de China. De la Armada Invencible al Galeón de Manila. Qaderns Crema (El Acantilado, 60), Barcelona. Ortiz de la Tabla Ducasse, J., 1974. El Marqués de Ovando, Gobernador de Filipinas (1750-1754). Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, Escuela de Estudios Hispano-Americanos, Sevilla. Páez Flores, R. G., 2002. Pueblos de frontera en la Sierra Gorda queretana, siglos XVII y XVIII. Presentación de Stella María González Cicero. Archivo General de la Nación, México, D.F. Prieto Lucena, A. Mª., 1985. Filipinas durante el gobierno de Manrique de Lara (16531663). Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, Escuela de Estudios HispanoAmericanos de Sevilla (Publicaciones de la Escuela de Estudios Hispano-Americanos de Sevilla; CCCIV): Universidad de Córdoba, Departamento de Historia de América, Sevilla. Robinson, F., and Brown, P., 1992. Atlas culturales del Mundo. El Mundo Islámico. Esplendor de una Fe. Ediciones Folio: Ediciones del Prado, Madrid, Volume I. Spoehr, A., 1968. Archaeological Survey of Southern Zamboanga and the Sulu Archipelago. Asian Perspectivas, Vol. 11: 177-185. Warren, J. F., 2000. The Global Economy and the Sulu Zone. Connections, Commodities and Culture. [Second Impression]. New Day Publishers, Quezon City, Philipines. Warren, J. F., 1999. The Sulu Zone 1768-1898: The Dynamics of External Trade, Slavery, and Ethnicity in the Transformation of a Southeast Asian Maritime State. New Day Publishers, Quezon City. Zamora, M. D., 1992. Los indígenas de las islas Filipinas. Editorial Mapfre (Colecciones Mapfre 1492. Colección Indios de América), Madrid. Miguel Luque-Talaván is a lecturer at the Department of American History I of the Complutense University of Madrid. He has directed and taken part in several research projects, the last one under the title "Ethnohistoric and Topogenetics Atlas of The Philippine Islands". He has received several grants that allowed him to conduct researches in Mexico, Peru, Great Britain, USA, Portugal and the Philippines. His principal areas of specialization are the Derecho Indiano and the Iberoasia's History. As author or publisher, has published fourteen books and more than one hundred works. 11 � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Session 5: Early Modern Colonialism in the Asia-Pacific Region Subject The topic of the resource Introduction interview with session chair María Cruz Berrocal and links to the papers presented in the session. Description An account of the resource Research on early modern colonialism in the Asia-Pacific region makes a fundamental contribution to the study of Global History. In the last decades, historians are highlighting the region's relevance in the transformation of global economy through its role in far-reaching trade networks. The early beginnings of colonialism in the region, as well as the role of non-Angloamerican colonial agents in the shaping of modern world have been also highlighted. Although these debates have been driven largely from history, archaeology must become more prominent for the study of early modern colonialism in the Asia-Pacific region through the study of consumption patterns, environmental effects, demographic impacts, transformation of gender systems brought about by contact, the role of material culture in these first colonial endeavours, and specifically, the important evidence that maritime archaeology can bring to the fore. It is argued in this session that new lines of evidence and argumentation will be found through a history- archaeology joint collaboration. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Dr. María Cruz Berrocal Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Border and Shaping of Identities: The Fort of Nuestra Senora del Pilar of Zamboanga, Mindanao (Philippines) Description An account of the resource At the end of the 15th century, Southeast Asia underwent a process of islamisation. Muslim presence in Southern Philippines was strongly fought by the Spaniards since 1570 and until the end of their presence in this archipelago. They named these Muslims moors, due to the similarity they established between them and the Muslims in the Iberian Peninsula. The Philippines was a border territory and the Philippine society was used to live at the edge of the Imperial possessions. The Sulu Sea was a real border zone from a geographical, cultural and historical point of view, whose study allows us to analyse the relations between the Spaniards and the local powers, and vice versa. Within this context, we will focus on the analysis of the history of the Hispanic forts in the island of Mindanao, in particular of the Fort of Nuestra Señora del Pilar of Zamboanga, a really strategic settlement in Southern Philippines, whose historical development allows us to analyse the different policies introduced by the Hispanic Monarchy in these regions subjected to its nominal sovereignty. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Miguel Luque-Talaván, in Van Tilburg, H., Tripati, S., Walker Vadillo, V., Fahy, B., and Kimura, J. (eds.) Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 5/13/2014 Asia-Pac Session 5 2014 https://apconf-much.org/proceedings/files/original/6a7473ea5a87a40995343a3ec25a99f0.pdf efd5864c643ce2e369d34295003c00cd PDF Text Text Oceanic deaths aboard the Manila galleons Miguel Luque-Talaván Complutense University of Madrid Geography and History Faculty Department of American History I 28040 Madrid Spain Email: mluque_t@ghis.ucm.es Abstract In the present investigation we aim to make an approach to some aspects concerning life aboard the Manila Galleon (from the 16th to the 19th centuries), such as diseases, death and burial of bodies, the psychology of the crew in face of these facts, etc. All with the aim of contributing to a better knowledge of the life of the crew and the passengers on one of the most complex and long-lasting sea trade routes that have ever existed in the Modern Age. Keywords: Manila Galleon, Tornaviaje, Acapulco, Life Aboard, Marquis of Ovando Introduction The present text focuses on an event that happened quite often on the Manila Galleon trade route: the death of some, sometimes many of its passengers, especially during the Tornaviaje (return journey) from Manila to Acapulco. There are several cases that we have been able to collect as examples during the course of our investigation. One of these cases is particularly significant based on the importance of the person involved in it. We refer to the death of Don Francisco José de Ovando y Solís, marquis of Ovando, in 1755, who was on his way back to Spain after having served as Governor and Captain General of the Philippines from 1750 to 1754. Through the analysis of this case and similar others we aim to approach the way in which death was confronted in one of the hardest and oldest overseas communication routes in History. A hard and long journey: the trans-pacific galleon Both the Acapulco-Manila outward route (which set sail in the month of April) and the Manila-Acapulco return route (which set sail in the month of June) were long and full of difficulties. More than 2000 leagues were covered from Acapulco to Manila. The Tornaviaje, which was longer, used to take about five or six months. Although in 1724, 1 �the La Sagrada Familia galleon took nine months to complete the voyage (Luque Talaván, 2013: 64). In such a long journey, diseases were very frequent, with scurvy being very common and one of the diseases that claimed more casualties. This feared illness, of which nineteen crew members of the Fernando de Magallanes – Juan Sebastian Elcano journey (1519-1522) were the first casualties in the Pacific, used to appear in about two or three months from the beginning of the route due to the lack of vitamine C (Pigafetta, 1988: 61-62)1. One of the ships of the expedition lead by Miguel López de Legazpi, the famous patache San Lucas, would reach the novohispanic port of La Navidad in 1565 after a very hard voyage: lack of water and supplies, scurvy and an attempted revolt aboard that ended with two men thrown into the sea as a measure of punishment and to set an example. Even at the late date of 1806, the San Andrés galleon suffered the loss of thirty six men due to the scurvy (Carrera Stampa, 1959: 104-105; Schurtz, 1992: 207, 241-242; Veyrat, 1995: 186; Vas Mingo and Luque Talaván, 2002: II, 603-618). Judging from the preserved testimonies, the journey, especially from Manila to Acapulco, was very harsh; which caused great mortality (Cruz, 1962: 139-141)2. The severity of this navigation is attested by, for example, the statements of father Pedro Cubero Sebastián dated to the 17th century (Cubero Sebastián, 1680, chapter XLV); or the ones made by the Italian passenger Giovanni Francesco Gemelli Careri, who took the mentioned journey from 1697 to 1698 and left the statements written in his renowned Giro del Mondo3. Health issues aboard Health issues aboard the Manila Galleon were similar to those given in the West Indies Fleet. Thus, to diseases that might appear on journeys across the Pacific like colds and other lung conditions arising from the ascent towards the north in order to avoid the 1 In this same expedition travelled a surgeon and three barbers, of whom only one survived (Pollak, 1973: 231). Domingo Galán Ahumada has transcribed the list of products of which the expedition first aid kit consisted of, see: Galán Ahumada, 1988: 16-18. 2 In regard to the voyagem see: Schurz, 1919: 632-638; Cruz, 1962: 97-118; Velázquez, 1968: 159-178; García de los Arcos, 1996: 175-180; Yuste, 2000: 139-150. 3 In recent days a new study about Gemelli Careri’s work has been published: Bernabéu Albert, 2012: 229-317. 2 �trade winds; several types of dermatitis, the already mentioned scurvy, dysentery, etc. we need to add the ones transmitted by mice and insects (Veyrat, 1995: 186, Nussio, 2001: 106). Many of the aforementioned diseases were contracted or made worse due to the weakness of the passengers and the crew, which had its origin in sudden changes of temperature, along with undernourishment or lack of hygiene. Diet was, for most people, poor in variety and quality; consisting mainly of biscuits made from bran, salted fish and meat, and some legumes. Big quantities of water that tended to go bad a few weeks after having boarded and was strictly rationed 4, and wine were stored in clay pots in order to drink (Pérez-Mallaína Bueno, 1992: 152; Nussio, 2001: 103-104). Due to their importance, provisions in the Manila galleons were under the care of a master of provisions and rations, a cook, a storekeeper and a waterkeeper (Lorente Rodrigáñez, 1944: 112-113; Carrera Stampa, 1959: 103). Meanwhile, prophylaxis was almost non-existent. The limited space of the ships resulted in overcrowding and, along with it, in the accumulation of waste and odours coming from stagnant water in the holds, excrements, stored food and body effluvia, that rarefied the atmosphere aboard. This became a breeding ground for numerous infectious-contagious diseases. To gain a clear understanding of the problem, it should be taken into account that there were between four and six hundred people in each ship, passengers and crew combined (Lorente Rodrigáñez, 1944: 113; Landín Carrasco, 1978: 68; Pérez-Mallaína Bueno, 1992: 139-148; Veyrat, 1995: 176). Another important matter in these sailings was the psychological suffering that came from the fear and the mental exhaustion of people obliged to live in the limited space of the ships, under dangerous circumstances and with no sign of land for months. This situation kept happening well into the 19th century on the sailing ships en route between Cadiz and Manila. Furthermore, this situation could cause all sort of conflicts and arguments among the members of the crew and the passage (Fernández Palacios, 2011: 111-119). 4 For example, the San Diego transported fifty five barrels of water —the equivalent of 24000 litres—; valid for a month of self-sufficient navigation (Veyrat, 1995: 182). Several large clay pots where the precious liquid was stored have been found in the wreckage of the ship, some of which are exhibited at the Naval Museum of Madrid (Spain), See: VV.AA., 2000: 260-261. 3 �The ships that made the trans-pacific route were not always provided with the services of a qualified health professional. Surgeons, doctors, pharmacists or barbers were taken on board many times only on the condition that they owned a well-stocked medicine chest. In each case, these persons had to face the medical emergencies resulting from the previously described diseases or from the accidents that tended to happen aboard the ship bruises after sudden swerves of the ship, blows from the sea, falls from the yard arm, etc (Veyrat, 1995: 186-187; Vas Mingo and Luque Talaván, 2002: II, 603618). The naval health staff’s medicine chests from the 16th and 17th centuries were mainly stocked with remedies of vegetable origin that were applied by using the language of those times anointings, rubbings, garglings and fumigations, antidotes, syrups and purgatives (Ballesteros et al., 1947: 521-523; Zúñiga Cisneros, 1978: 381382; Veyrat, 1995: 186-187; Schaedel, 2000: 433; Gracia Rivas, 2006: 167-185). In addition to these medicines, health staff had tools such as saws, trepans, bandages, dressings, mortars and pestles in order to crush powders and prepare ointments, weighing scales to calculate dosages, funnels, palette knives, spoons, braziers to warm up preparations, etc 5 . The preferred methods to alleviate the patients’ diseases or humors were purging by means of enemas and syringes and bloodletting performed in the arms, sometimes on an ongoing basis, which instead of relief could cause the hastening of the death of a weak patient. These practices, as well as surgical operations, were performed at the bottom of the main mast; close the ship’s centre of gravity, in order to achieve the maximum possible stability to perform such delicate procedures. Medical attention in the ports of Manila and Acapulco Although health measures were taken on board, these were not always effective and either the patient died, or he reached the port of destination in a precarious state of health. For the latter case, two hospitals were built: one in Manila and another one in Acapulco. The one known as Hospital de las Naos del Comercio was built in Manila in 1625. The only information of it existence is provided by Díez de la Rosa, who says that 5 Several objects that must have belonged to a surgeon have been found in the wreckage of the San Diego galleon, such as a small golden porcelain jar for ointments, two big containers made of the same material, weighing scales lead weights in conical shapes and a bronze mortar (Veyrat, 1995: 186-187). 4 �its function was to give assistance to the crew of the merchant ships of the Philippines. The aforesaid hospital was funded by the Real Patronato, which set aside 1000 pesos per year for its maintenance. Francisco Guerra Pérez suggests that such amount was intended to pay the stay of the merchant ship sailors in the Hospital Real de Manila founded in 1571- therefore raising the question of the existence of a specific Hospital de las Naos del Comercio (Guerra Pérez, 1994: 548) 6 . Meanwhile, in Acapulco, the health facilities in which the crew and passengers that arrived sick to the novohispanic port were taken care of was the Hospital de Nuestra Señora de la Consolación, founded in 1570. Supported with the income of the Real Patronato, a two percent rate on the goods from the Philippines was used for its repair in 1651. At the beginning of the 18th century the Hospital gave assistance to numerous sailors and soldiers of the Fort of San Diego so, in practice, it was a military hospital. For this reason, those in charge - the Brothers of Charity first, and the Real Caja de Acapulco later - received two reales, later increased to three, for each sailor’s or soldier’s convalescence (Guerra Pérez, 1994: 262-263; Luque Talaván, 2008: I, 397-398)7. In addition to the port of Acapulco, the galleons anchored occasionally, and between the end of the 16th century and the beginning of the 19th century, in several locations of Baja California - like the Mission San José del Cabo -, as well as in the ports of San Blas, La Navidad or Barra de Navidad, Manzanillo and Zihuatanejo. The progressive development of this network of small ports of anchorage to support the navigation of the Manila galleon also served the purpose of the Crown of consolidating its presence in such a vast region, especially during the troublesome - from a warlike point of view 18th century8. In this regard, it should be noted that the first land that the ships on the Manila-Acapulco route spotted in months was the coast of California, where they could replenish provisions. “The journey of the Nuestra Señora del Rosario in 1706 can be considered to be representative. It set sail from Manila on July 6, it left behind the 6 In Manila, during the 16th century, there was a scarcity of doctors, pharmacists and medicines (GarcíaAbásolo Gónzález, 2000: 202). In regard to the Army health facilities on Philippine soil, see: Clavijo y Clavijo, 1944: 289-306; Clavijo y Clavijo, 1950a: 383-Ss; Clavijo y Clavijo, 1950b; Casero Nieto, 1985: 101-124. 7 Francisco Santiago Cruz tells how the Manila galleons used to leave some of those gravely ill in the Jesuit Mission San José del Cabo, located on the southern end of Baja California. After the expulsion of the Order in 1767, the mission was abandoned (Cruz, 1962: 141). 8 The following book is very useful: Pinzón Ríos, 2011. 5 �Embocadero9 on August 3, it crossed the meridian of the Marianas on September 29, it found “signs”10 on November 16, it sailed past Cabo San Lucas on December 4 and entered the port of Acapulco on December 20, after a journey of five months and fifteen days” (Schurtz, 1992: 240). Religious practices on the high seas: oceanic death and burials The issue of death on the sea is deeply related to the sailors’ and passengers’ devotions and religious practices, who were obliged to use this uncertain means of transportation. Orations, prayers, ex-votos, rituals, faiths and legends are plentiful in this transport. These questions have been addressed very efficiently by specialized historiography, for different ages and geographical spaces (Gil Muñoz, 2004; Ferrer Albelda et al., 2012). We are only going to address then the issue of death and burial on the high seas of the members of the crew and passengers that died during the course of the navigations. For example, the 1606 galleon registered a total of eighty deaths during its journey; while the 1629 galleon only had five deaths. A very tragic case is that of the San José, which was found drifting in 1657, a year after it set sail from Manila, with all its crew and passengers dead. In 1678, father Cubero Sebastián made the journey to Acapulco aboard the San Antonio de Padua galleon, where only a hundred and ninety two men out of the four hundred who left Manila arrived alive. Just on the journey between the coasts of California and Acapulco he officiated at a hundred and ninety two funerals (Cubero Sebastián, 1680: 321-339; Schurtz, 1992: 241-242). The ceremonial followed in these occasions was very simple for the sailors, whereas a more elaborate funeral could be arranged for distinguished people. The bodies, wrapped in a shroud, were weighed down with stones or water pots (Tempère, 2002: 115-116). It is not hard to imagine the terrible feeling that the death of their colleagues might cause among the persons embarked. The oceanic death of the marquis of Ovando (1755) We could mention innumerable examples of all of the aforesaid until now. In this regard, documentation is well explicit, but we will only focus on one of them 11: the death of the 9 Particular reference is made to the Embocadero of San Bernardino [Strait of San Bernardino]. Natural signs that indicated the proximity of the American coast. 11 In the Archivo General de Indias, we have been able to locate one of them. For example, that referred to the death of the Bishop of Troas, Friar Ginés de Barrientos (OP), aboard the Nuestra Señora del 10 6 �marquis of Ovando, who died aboard the Santísima Trinidad y Nuestra Señora del Buen Fin galleon during the return journey to Spain across New Spain. The large ship left Manila on July 23rd 1755 commanded by the marquis of Villamediana. The diseased and casualty statistics are highly significant: twenty sick persons on October 1st, sixty on November 30th, eighty on December 24th, one hundred and two on January 4th 1756; one hundred and fifty on the 13th of the same month. On February 1st, two hundred sick persons were disembarked in Cabo San Lucas, at the southern end of the Baja California peninsula, and left to the care of the Jesuits of Mission San José del Cabo. Out of the four hundred and thirty five crew members that initially left Manila, eighty two died on the high seas. The cause of such many deaths was a tabardillo or typhus epidemic outbreak that made a significant dent in great part of the members of the crew and passengers. William Lytle Schurtz notes that upon arriving in Acapulco, the ship had no more than twenty seven men able to stand on their own feet. It was a thankless journey for Ovando since, in addition to the terrible disease and its fatal outcome he suffered the loss of his infant son, Ignacio José Camilo, on August 5th born aboard the ship on July 29th. Ovando fell ill on August 16th. On December 6th he was brought the Viaticum. Finally, death took him on December 9th, 1755 when the ship was sailing on the same latitude as the Gulf of California, in whose waters, following the seafaring tradition, he was laid to rest (Ortiz de la Tabla Ducasse, 1974: 241-242; Zárate Toscano, 2000: 418). Before his death, he was able to make his will; a document rich in information in which he wanted to leave his earthly and spiritual matters sorted out. Among the aspects related to his burial, Ovando ordered to be shrouded in the habit of St. Francis, to whose Third Order he belonged; to have his heart extracted in order for it to be placed inside a reliquary at the foot of the Nuestra Señora del Buen Fin statue in the convent of Santa Clara in Cáceres (Spain), and to have masses celebrated for the eternal repose of his soul. Ovando’s firstborn son, José Francisco, II marquis of Ovando12, unable to comply with the request relating to his father’s heart, ordered a Rosario, San Francisco Javier y Santa Rosa galleon, in 1698 – Archivo General de Indias (Seville), Filipinas, 119, N. 4-. 12 He himself born aboard the Nuestra Señora del Rosario galleon on April 15 1750, on his parents’ outward journey from Acapulco to Philippines (Zárate Toscano, 2000: 418). 7 �golden heart to be made so it could replace that of his father’s and be placed in the location stated in his will (Ortiz de la Tabla Ducasse, 1974: 242-243). Final thoughts The aforementioned Gemelli Careri’s words in relation to the oceanic voyage may serve as a good summary of what has been said above: “The voyage from the Philippine Islands to the American continent can be considered the longest and hardest that exists worldwide, not only because of the vastness of the ocean to be crossed, almost half of the globe, against the headwinds, the storms that take place in it, one after the other, and the diseases that afflict the people on board for seven or eight months, remaining for a long period of time close to la Línea, sometimes in the cold, sometimes in temperate weather, sometimes in warm weather, which is sufficient to wreck a man as tough as iron, and much more a man of flesh and blood, who during the navigation is not fed very well (…).” (translated from: Schurtz, 1992: 233). In short, what we have intended is to point out, with several examples, some of the aspects related to life aboard the Manila galleon, contributing to delve deeper in the understanding of a sea route that is still in need of new studies of the many aspects that compose it. Acknowledgements I am particularly grateful for the commentaries of José María Fernández Palacios, and the translation of José Luis Sedano Rosa. References Ballesteros Gaibrois, M. R., Santaella, D., Espinosa Navarro., 1947. Aportaciones de los médicos y farmacéuticos españoles a la obra de España en América. Anuario de Estudios Americanos (Sevilla), Vol. 4: 521-578. Bernabéu Albert, S., (coordinador), 2012. Dossier: los trabajos y los días en el Galeón de Manila: el relato de Gemelli Carreri. Anuario de Estudios Americanos (Sevilla), Vol. 69 (1): 229-317. Carrera Stampa, M., 1959. La nao de la China. Historia Mexicana (México), Vol. 9 (1): 97-118. Casero Nieto, J. A., 1985. 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Traducción al español de P. Ortiz Armengol, Ediciones de Cultura Hispánica, Madrid. Schurz, W. L., 1919. The Voyage of the Manila Galleon from Acapulco to Manila. Hispanic American Historical Review , Vol. 2 (4): 632-638. Tempère, D., 2002. Vida y muerte en alta mar. Pajes, grumetes y marineros en la navegación española del siglo XVII. Iberoamericana (Berlín), Vol. 5: 103-120. Vas Mingo, M. M. del; M. Luque Talaván., 2002. Medicina y terapéutica medicamentosa en las navegaciones transpacíficas del Galeón de Manila (1565-1815). Notas para su estudio. In F. A. Antón Burgos; L. Ó. Ramos Alonso, Traspasando fronteras: el reto de Asia y el Pacífico, Asociación Española de Estudios del Pacífico: Universidad de Valladolid, Centro de Estudios del Asia, Valladolid: II, 603-618. Velázquez, Mª del C., 1968. La navegación transpacífica. Historia Mexicana (México), Vol. 18 (2): 159-178. Veyrat, E., 1995. Vida a bordo. In VV.AA., El San Diego. Un tesoro bajo el mar, Compañía Española de Petróleos, S.A. CEPSA, Madrid: 170-194. VV. AA., 2000. El galeón de Manila. Catálogo. Aldeasa: Ministerio de Educación, Cultura y Deporte, s.l.. Yuste, C., 2000. Un océano de intercambios. In VV.AA., El galeón de Manila. Catálogo, Aldeasa, Ministerio de Educación, Cultura y Deporte, s.l.: 139-150. 11 �Zárate Toscano, V., 2000. Los nobles ante la muerte en México. Actitudes, ceremonias y memoria (1750-1850). El Colegio de México, Centro de Estudios Históricos: Instituto Mora, México, D.F. Zúñiga Cisneros, M., 1978. Historia de la Medicina. Tomo II. La Medicina de los tiempos modernos: siglos XVI y XVII. Ediciones Edime, Caracas-Madrid. Biography Miguel Luque-Talaván is a lecturer at the Department of American History I of the Complutense University of Madrid. He has directed and taken part in several research projects, the last one under the title "Ethnohistoric and Topogenetics Atlas of The Philippine Islands". He has received several grants that allowed him to conduct researches in Mexico, Peru, Great Britain, USA, Portugal and the Philippines. His principal areas of specialization are the Derecho Indiano and the Iberoasia's History. As author or publisher, has published fourteen books and more than one hundred works. 12 � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Session 6: Iberian Global Interactions: the Manila Galleon and the Roteiro Subject The topic of the resource Interview with Session 6 co-chair Veronica Walker Vadillo and links to the papers presented in the session. Description An account of the resource The arrival of Spain and Portugal in Asia-Pacific in the 1500s marked a turning point in the history of the region. New foreign actors came into play: priests, merchants and mercenaries looking to save souls and profit from trade in exotic Asian goods. Far from their Iberian homeland, their deeds and actions, violent or not, resulted in a myriad of interactions that altered the life of the people who lived around their areas of influence, including that of the newcomers. This flow of people and goods circumnavigated the world by well established maritime routes. In 1565, the Spanish established the Manila galleon trade route, which linked Asia with the Americas, and from there to Europe. From the early 1500s, the Portuguese dominated the route that linked Asia with Africa, Brazil and Europe in what is known as the Roteiro. The most visible archaeological evidence of these trade routes is the ships in which the goods were transported around the globe, and also the interaction with different cultures that were located in trading posts along these routes. But through contact also came knowledge exchange and other subtle changes including the migration of people, flora, and fauna. In this session we want to discuss archaeological, historical, and ethnographic evidence that remains of this global enterprise that connected Europe to Asia through maritime trade, and all the entrepôts that stood along the way. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Veronica Walker Vadillo Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Oceanic deaths aboard the Manila galleons Description An account of the resource In the present investigation we aim to make an approach to some aspects concerning life aboard the Manila Galleon (from the 16th to the 19th centuries), such as diseases, death and burial of bodies, the psychology of the crew in face of these facts, etc. All with the aim of contributing to a better knowledge of the life of the crew and the passengers on one of the most complex and long-lasting sea trade routes that have ever existed in the Modern Age. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Miguel Luque-Talaván, in Van Tilburg, H., Tripati, S., Walker Vadillo, V., Fahy, B., and Kimura, J. (eds.) Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 5/15/2014 Asia-Pac Session 6 2014