Their way of life didn't change much in perhaps a thousand years or more, but now they, too, are feeling the impact of so-called civilization. Much of this is probably for the better. At the least, life is changing for some 2,600 members of the Yami tribe of aborigines living on small Orchid Island in the Pacific about 50 miles east of the southern tip of Taiwan.
The Yamis are not trying to resist civilization. They accept many of its presumed benefits and some of its less desirable aspects as well. At the same time, they retain many of the ways and traditions of their ancestors. What the future holds for them is of course unknown. The only certainty is that the lives of today's children of Orchid Island will be far different from those of their fathers and forefathers.
My wife, Elinor, and I visited Orchid Island and the Yamis just before last Christmas on a trip that took us completely around Taiwan by bus, boat, train and plane on a three-day week-end. We succeeded in making the trip only on the third try. Two earlier attempts were frustrated by the threat of Pacific typhoons. We were accompanied by a young Chinese couple, Charles and Grace Tsou, who proved most helpful in bridging the language barrier. While I wouldn't give unqualified endorsement to such a long trip in such a short time, the results were worthwhile. Better such an expedition in too little time than no trip at all. Although troubled by some annoying delays, we could scarcely describe these as hardships.
The first leg of the trip around Taiwan took us by bus from Taipei to Keelung, where we boarded the car and passenger ferry Hualien. This vessel began service between the port at Taiwan's northeastern tip and the east coast port city of Hualien only last summer. The voyage was a rewarding experience.
The Hualien makes the 100-mile trip from Keelung to the city for which it is named in about five hours, staying close to the rugged northern Taiwan coastline where mountains rise abruptly from the water. We had an outside cabin with four comfortable bunks for NT$350 (US$9.23) each. The fare for inside cabins with Japanese style tatami mats on which passengers can relax is NT$ 250 (US$6.59) each. The fare without cabin but with access to large tatami mats is NT$200 (US$5.27) each.
There are seats on two decks, a cafeteria which serves reasonably priced food in limited variety, and a snack bar. The Hualien carries up to 1,000 passengers and about 100 cars and 50 trucks and buses. It makes a round trip each Friday, Saturday and Sunday the year around - except on days of severe storm or when typhoons are approaching - and on week-days as well during the summer season.
A narrow belt of yellow-sand beaches separates surf from green-covered mountains along most of the coastline. Small villages are seen where there is enough flatland or gentle slopeland for a settlement. But most of the east side of Taiwan is sparsely settled and bears a resemblance to stretches of the Northern California and Oregon coastlines on the other side of the Pacific.
At times we could see the line of the narrow highway that clings to the edge of the mountain sides between Hualien and Suao, offering a spectacular ocean view to travelers who dare to look. Much of the road is one-way between traffic control points. Many week-enders take the ship one way and the bus the other on an outing to Hualien.
Farther south, we could see from the ship some of the work on the North Bend railroad line, one of the Republic of China's Ten Basic Construction Projects. Track builders are pushing northward from Hualien. This railway will speed the development of the east coast when it joins the mainline leading from Suao to Taipei and down the west coast three years hence. With its numerous tunnels and trestles, the Hualien-Suao railroad will be one of the world's most scenic.
Our ship passed close to Turtle Island, just off the coast and about halfway between Keelung and Hualien. This oblong, green-capped bit of land rising from the sea is only a few acres in size. A narrow, rounded bare-rock peninsula juts from the east side. The island really looks like a gigantic turtle, head and neck extended as it heads out to sea. Just below the turtle's "nose," steam from a subterranean hot spring rises from the water like the breath of a living monster. Sulfur deposits from the steam have stained yellow the "face" of the turtle.
Developing Hualien, where we left the ship, is an international seaport. Enlargement of the harbor requires much dredging and the building of jetties and breakwaters. Completion of the expansion together with the new railroad and enlargement of the port of Suao will remove some pressure on the overcrowded port of Keelung.
At Hualien we had the first of our periods of waiting - about two hours at the railroad station for the narrow-gauge train to take us to Taitung, the other big city of the east coast. Hualien is gateway to the scenic marble canyons of Taroko Gorge, visited by tens of thousands of tourists each year, and the eastern terminus of the East-West Cross-Island Highway. It has a large cement industry and one of the world's biggest marble industries. We enjoyed shopping for marble souvenirs in nearby shops while waiting for the train.
The Hualien to Taitung line of about 125 miles is one of several narrow-gauge railroads still operating in Taiwan. Others include the forestry railroad from Chiayi on the western plain to Alishan Village in the high mountains and the system of the Taiwan Sugar Corporation. Not many narrow-gauge lines are still operating in the world. Those in Taiwan are traveled by many railroad buffs. When the North Bend line from Hualien to Suao is completed, the railroad from Hualien to Taitung will be rebuilt to accommodate standard-gauge rolling stock. The building of a railroad from Taitung across the southern end of the island to connect with the west coast line will give Taiwan an around-the-island system in the 1980s.
As on the Alishan line, the little Hualien-Taitung trains are pulled by Japanese-built Diesel engines. Some of the wooden passenger cars are quite old but not uncomfortable, even if lacking the roominess of a full-size train. As on most Taiwan trains, passengers are served tea and given hot towels (cold in summer) for a freshening up. This custom could well be followed in the United States to add to passenger comfort. Tea glasses in racks beside the seats are frequently refilled. It is a fascinating sight to see the train boy perform this service, using his one free hand to lift the glasses, remove the plastic lid, fill the glasses from the kettle in his other hand, and replace glasses and lids. This takes approximately three seconds as the train rolls along, swaying from side to side. There is no dining car. A vendor offers candy and snacks. Fruit and other foods are sold through the train windows at stops in small towns.
The railway of eastern Taiwan passes through a relatively narrow plain between the main central mountains and a lower but still rugged range along the ocean. A passable if scarcely modem road runs down the coast, past fine beaches and through several small towns. This is a remote area well worth exploring for anyone with time, a sturdy car or a motorbike.
Along the right-of-way are rice paddies, sugar cane plantations and large fields planted to pineapples and other crops which thrive in the tropical climate. From the town of Kuanshan, some 25 miles north of Taitung, the new Southern Cross-Island Highway rises rapidly to cross an almost uninhabited section of the towering Central Mountain Range to Yuching, and thence to the West Coast North-South Highway at Tainan, the old Dutch capital of Taiwan. When this new mountain road is completed, it will add another attractive facet to Taiwan travel and contribute to the development of the three-quarters of Taiwan that is mountainous.
Taitung is a pleasant city of about 100,000 population. We spent the night at the home of a friend, Miss Marie Conner who went from her native Georgia to the China mainland as a missionary and teacher before the Communist takeover. Later she came to Taiwan and long has headed a thriving Southern Baptist mission at Taitung.
To get a little ahead of our Orchid Island story, on the last day of our trip we traveled by comfortable Golden Horse bus from Taitung to Kaohsiung, Taiwan's second city and largest port, on the Taiwan Straits. The excellent cross-island highway follows the ocean for more than half of the five-hour trip. There are many beaches in the southeast, although they appear to be silted, much as are those along the Straits coast and unlike the sandy beaches found farther north on the Pacific side.
As elsewhere in Taiwan, all possible land is cultivated. Main crops are rice, sugar cane, pineapples and sisal, an agave plant with long sword-like leaves grown for a fiber to make rope. For two long stretches the highway parallels the tracks of the midget trains used to haul sugar cane from fields to refineries.
At the town of Tawu, the road leaves the ocean and crosses the mountains near the narrow southern end of the island, emerging at Fangshan on the Straits. We saw many forestry projects. There is scant room for agriculture in the mountains. Most of the inhabitants are "mountain-people" - members of the several aborigine tribes of Taiwan. The largest group is the Ami. From Fangshan the bus carried us north some 50 miles to Kaohsiung. Elinor and I returned to Taipei from Kaohsiung aboard a China Airlines plane that took about 45 minutes, completing the Taiwan circle. The Tsous made the final lap by train.
The only connection between Taiwan and Orchid Island used to be by boat. It still is possible to go by sea but service is irregular and subject to the whims of weather. Almost everyone makes the trip, as we did, aboard the small planes of the Taiwan Aviation Company. The twin-propeller British-made planes carry nine passengers and the pilot.
TAC must also take weather in to consideration, especially typhoons and strong winds. It's possible to wait in Taitung two or three days while storms blow themselves out. Visitors may also get more Orchid Island sightseeing time than they bargained for. When the planes don't fly, that goes both ways.
We had the impression that our reservations for Orchid Island were on the plane leaving Taitung about 8 a.m. We had paid long in advance. Charles Tsou checked by phone when we arrived in Taitung and was told to confirm the tickets in person. The Taiwan Aviation people gave him the impression that while the first flight was already booked full, the second would surely take us. We got up at 6 a.m. to allow ourselves plenty of time.
When we arrived at the small office and waiting room of TAC, we found it jammed to overflowing with people wanting to go to Orchid Island. The aviation people were friendly and polite. But so far as I could determine, they had no acquaintance with the practice of reservations. So we got to see more of Taitung than we had expected. Mini-buses came in from the airport, loaded up with people who were ahead of us, and departed. At one point a friendly attendant said maybe we'd get on about the fourth flight. I'm not sure which one we finally squeezed ourselves onto. It was noon when we boarded a minibus for the airport. Orchid Island visitors would do well to get to the TAC office before dawn, prepared for the possibility of a long wait. However, the visit to Orchid Island is well worthwhile - once you get there!
The Taitung Airport is at the beach - a Re public of China Air Force base which shares facilities with civilian flights. All travelers have their identification checked at the entrance. The flight to Orchid Island takes about 30 minutes and costs NT$900 (US$23.71) for the round-trip. We flew quite low over a calm sea. Wavelets shimmered in the hazy sunshine. Scattered clouds reflected on the sea took an appearance of misty islands.
Orchid Island loomed up as a green jewel in a black setting. The island is of volcanic origin. Rugged black lava formations, some fantastically distorted, rise out of the sea. The island peaks into quite high mountains with little level land around the base. The whole island has an area of only about 10½ square miles. Orchids from which it received its English name grow in forested areas at higher elevations. There are sizable trees there, too, and many butterflies. The Chinese name of Orchid Island is Lan-yu. Botel Tobago is a former name.
The Lan-yu guest house has 22 rooms and a lobby decorated with colorful stylized murals patterned after Yami aborigine art. It offers doubles for NT$400 (US$10.54) a person daily, including meals of simple Chinese fare. Rooms with straw tatami mats are available for less. One large room has sleeping space for up to 30 people. Most rooms lack private bathrooms. Electricity is provided only in the evening hours from a small Diesel generator supplying the hotel and some adjacent areas. Normally it is shut off by midnight. A flashlight comes in handy.
The Yami tribesmen resemble aborigines of Taiwan in their small stature. They have black hair, brown eyes and complexions deeply bronzed from prolonged exposure to sun and wind. Clothing is minimal. Small children wear a single garment coming about to their waists. Many of the men wear the equivalent of an athletic supporter plus brief sleeveless jackets, especially while fishing. Some men wear shorts or loin cloths. More are wearing trousers. Most women and girls dress in Western style clothing. Many girls and younger women are quite pretty.
The Taiwan and Orchid Island aborigines are of Malay stock that anthropologists believe spread out from the islands of the present Republic of Indonesia countless centuries ago. From these early voyagers descended the Polynesians of the South Seas, Hawaii and Chile's Easter Island. Others traveled south to become the ancestors of the Maoris of New Zealand. Some moved northward to settle in the Philippines and Taiwan.
Orchid Island, being the closest to the Philippines, apparently was settled before the aborigines reached Taiwan. There is a considerable resemblance between the language of the Yamis and that of the natives of the northern Philippines. There are Yami stories of voyages between Orchid Island and the Philippines, a distance of 300 or more miles, in generations past. There have been so such trips in recorded history.
Aborigines settling in the plains areas of Taiwan engaged in some agriculture and the traditional occupations of hunting and fishing. Chinese migration from the mainland to Taiwan started about 800 years ago. As more and more Chinese arrived, the aborigines retreated into the mountains. The majority still live in mountain areas, although their way of life has been changed by education, improved transportation and the extension of power lines to remote villages. There are about 200,000 aborigines now living in Taiwan, the largest number in history. Aborigines have retained many of their tribal customs and traditions but also have been fitted into the Taiwan economy and society. They are represented in both the National Assembly of the Republic of China and the Taiwan Provincial Assembly.
Because their home was so small and remote, Orchid Island Yamis long escaped outside influence. We visited with the outsider who probably knows the Yamis better than anyone else. Except that Grace Wakelin is hardly an outsider. She was born and brought up in an atmosphere entirely different from Orchid Island - a small town in the Canadian prairie province of Saskatchewan. After graduation from a provincial teacher's college and a Bible college in her native province, she went to China as a Presbyterian missionary and teacher. Like other Christian missionaries, Miss Wakelin left the mainland after the Communist takeover. She crossed the Straits to Taiwan and in 1955 reached Orchid Island. For more than 20 years she has lived among the Yamis.
Miss Wakelin's first task was to learn the Yami language, which she now speaks fluently, as well as Chinese. In her earlier days on the island, she frequently walked around it, stopping at each of the six villages. Now that a primitive road exists, she frequently catches a ride on the small sightseeing bus. There are small churches at most of the villages. An ordained Yami minister joins her in ministerial work. There is also a Roman Catholic mission.
High-prowed canoes with their “eye of the sea” once carried Yamis on long distance voyages. (File photo)
Miss Wakelin's home is a tiny concrete house adjoining a small church at Bungtou Village a short distance from the guest house. At times she has electricity, but not the night that Elinor and I visited her. Her living room was lighted by candles and a kerosene lamp. At times, as we talked, there was a cheerful sort of a chirping from a lizard prowling the roof in search of insects and apparently boasting when he made a catch. Miss Wakelin's mission is supported by the Presbyterian churches of Taiwan.
Visitors to Orchid Island are usually most impressed - as we were - by the Yami boats with prows and sterns sometimes as high as a man's head. These craft are not unlike those in which Yami ancestors arrived many centuries ago from islands farther south. There is extraordinary grace in the lines of the boats. The outer hulls bear elaborate decorations of stylized design going back to ancient times. Near each end and on each side is the rounded "eye of the sea" that traditionally helps Yamis in their quest for fish.
The boats range from one-man size to those requiring 10-man crews. Building a boat is a cooperative project involving much time and skilled work. The skills have been passed down from father to son over the centuries. The boat begins with the finding of a good Gheia (pronounced "jay-ee") tree. These trees grow to large size in ravines of the Orchid Island mountains. The wood is extremely hard.
The Yami boats are not, as widely believed and often written, hewn from single tree trunks. The broad boards that fit so perfectly to form the hulls are hewn out of the log with axes and further shaped with chisels in the finishing stage. The islanders find tools of the steel age more efficient in boat building than the stone implements of their ancestors.
The shaped boards are fastened together by drilling small holes with hand augurs and driving in hardwood pegs that swell as they absorb sea water. Miss Wakelin once helped a craftsman friend by presenting him with brace and bit. But most boat builders still rely on the small augurs twisted by hand. Seams between the boards are tightly calked with fibrous materials obtained from the bark of mountain trees and vines. The boats are half-filled with water when dragged up on the beach between voyages. That way the sun will not dry out and shrink the boards and open cracks.
The Yamis have found commercial oil paints more satisfactory for decorating present day boats than the colorings made by their ancestors from clay, lime, soot and various vegetables.
As many as 14 men may be the joint owners of one of the larger boats and participate in its building. At launching time, the man who is to be skipper gets aboard and the others raise the boat on their shoulders. For ancient reasons which are not entirely clear, they toss man and boat into the air once or twice, then carry the craft to the sea.
The launching of a new boat calls for celebration and feasting, usually including the roasting of pig or goat, and ceremonial songs, chants and dances - all performed by men. At the launching, and on some later ceremonial occasions, a staff bearing an elaborate festoon of feathers is placed at each end of the boat. This is removed when the boat goes to sea for the purpose for which it was built - fishing.
The Yami boats would qualify anywhere as works of art. It is hard to believe they are still built by native craftsmen using skills passed down through the generations and with no other tools than axes, chisels and hand augers.
When beached, Yami canoes are partly filled with water to prevent the wood from drying out. (File photo)
The Yami craftsmen who produce these fishing boats also carve the beautiful small models sold at the small souvenir shop next door to the guest house. Prices are NT$300 to NT$400 (US$7.91 to $10.54). With the decorations carved in relief, each obviously involved hours of work. We bought one to remind us of our stay on Orchid Island.
On an early morning walk in misty gray light, I met a Yami man wearing his athletic supporter and carrying a small bunch of twigs seemingly gathered for fuel. I gave him all the coins and small NT currency I had - perhaps - about 30 US cents worth - to pose for a picture. The result wasn't as effective as it might have been. He held his bouquet somewhat after the fashion of nude models in the days when even the naked were modest.
A young woman, probably his wife, who had been tending a baby at a nearby house, then appeared with an impressive hat. It was made from split and overlapping palm fronds sewed together and supported inside by circles of vines. There was a woven headpiece under a small conical peak. The brim was about 20 inches in diameter. I don't know how much she was asking for the hat, but I offered her an NT$100 bill (US$2.64). She took it, apparently well satisfied, and posed for a picture with an older woman, possibly her grandmother. The older woman then insisted that I reward her and in sign language indicated that she would prefer cigarettes. I had none and gave her another NT$100 bill.
It was raining before I got back to the hotel. But I wore my Yami hat, which shed water like a small umbrella. Those who have seen it think it well worth NT$200. Its brim is so wide that it would not fit into bus and plane luggage racks on the way home. Most of the time I carried it in my lap. Elinor wore it in terminals and when I was loaded down with luggage. It attracted quite a bit of interest.
Possession of a silver helmet once was the ambition of every Yami man. The silver came from coins of the Ch'ing dynasty, and later from Japan, and was hammered into coils by Yami smiths and applied to a woven base. The helmets were passed from father to son. Each inheritor sought to add at least one coil of hammered silver to his helmet. If a man had more than one son, the silver coils were divided among them and each then sought to complete a helmet of his own. This custom is dying out - as is the skill of silver-smithing. Most remaining helmets are owned by old or middle-aged Yamis and are seen only on ceremonial occasions.
Only in recent times have the aborigines of Orchid Island used money. Trade was previously on a barter basis. To this day, many islanders would rather have something tangible in trade. The favorite medium of exchange is that dubious contribution of civilization - cigarettes. Most older islanders, women as well as men, are heavy smokers when the means are at hand. For visitors, a carton of cigarettes can be compared with the costume jewelry that helped buy Manhattan Island.
Some government health officials, aware that cigarette smoking is as harmful to a primitive as to a civilized society, have urged the development of tobacco culture on Orchid Island and encouragement of the Yamis to smoke pipes. This proposal apparently is not making much progress. We did not see any tobacco plants. Many Taiwan aborigines smoke small pipes, notably older women with tattooed faces who invite tourists to snap their pictures in return for tips. But we saw not one Yami smoking a pipe.
Many Orchid Islanders are habitual chewers of the small green betel nuts that grow on a species of palm trees. The astringent nuts have the curious effect of staining the teeth of the chewers bright red. They serve as a mild stimulants but are not considered harmful.
Family life on Orchid Island may not be exactly a matriarchy - but it comes pretty close. Mama is the boss of almost every houshold. The men build the boats and go fishing; the women do the farming. If Papa isn't out fishing, he'll probably be at home taking care of the children and looking after the housework. Most Yami wives are older than their husbands. Widows seem to have no trouble getting another mate, even when they have several children.
From ancient times, a Yami house has started with a hole in the ground lined with stones and frequently floored with slabs of the same Gheia wood used in boat building. With use, the floor becomes almost as smooth and polished as that of a dance hall. Above ground level there is enough open space for cross-ventilation and circulation of air on the hot humid days so frequent in the tropical climate. The walls are covered with woven reeds and the roof with a heavy thatch of native grasses. This style of roofing is penetrated Only by the heaviest, most prolonged rain. If the upper part of the house is blown away by one of Orchid Island's not-infrequent typhoons, the residents seldom get hurt. Replacement is not a major undertaking.
Grace Wakelin thinks these houses are actually the best possible for Orchid Island's location and climate. Not everyone agrees. The government is building many small poured-cement houses. Roofs are metal sheeting, which can become very hot in the sun, or composition shingles. They will have electricity when plans for a central power station and transmission line around Orchid Island take shape.
Because of the terrain, most agricultural plots are small - it is rare to find one larger than about half an acre. Plots are terraced into the hillside and delimited by small rock walls. A few families have water buffaloes. Most plots afford hardly enough room to turn a buffalo and plow around.
The common cereal crop is millet. The staple is taro, a large-leafed root vegetable which grows in water. Small patches may be found along the roads, with water flowing from one to the next at lower level. Taro is the base of the staple Hawaiian food poi - which gets an indifferent reception from Westerners. The Yamis don't make poi; they roast or cut up and boil the taro roots.
They also raise sweet potatoes and other vegetables. Many Yami families keep pigs, goats, chickens and ducks. All of the fish brought in by the boats is consumed on the island. Some nutritionists have expressed concern about the adequacy of the Yami diet. The people we saw looked well-fed.
Dietary problems are complicated by traditional taboos still widely observed. A large fish, the raeeo (pronounced ry-o), is to be eaten only by men. Other fish are for women and children and still others for the aged. When she saw a Yami male eating what was supposed to be a woman's fish, Miss Wakelin recalled, she asked him if he was not violating a taboo. He assured her that he was not - that it was all right for men to eat women's fish if none of their own kind was available, but that women still could not eat men's fish.
The fish catches brought in by the boats are divided among those taking part in the expedition plus shares for any absent partners in the boat's ownership.
Inez de Beauclair, an ethnologist who has lived on Orchid Island, concluded that: "Up to now the Yamis' religion seems not to have been affected to a high degree by Christianity. But they consider the magic powers of the new religion well worth giving a try. They apply religious pictures and the Bible as a means to chase away evil spirits in case of sickness and adorn themselves and their children with rosaries and medals, side by side with their own charms, such as strings and tufts of goat's hair."
Some of the most devout of her Christian friends, Miss Wakelin said, still follow such taboos as men's and women's fish - either to be on the safe side or to keep peace with fundamentalist friends and relatives.
The Yami aborigines of Orchid Island have never had - or needed - any formal government. Each village has always been independent of the others. In the old days the wealthiest man of each village - usually meaning the one with the most pigs and goats - was the arbiter in settling disputes between villagers. Apparently disagreements were few. Police at the small Orchid Island station have little to do. Younger villagers still seek the advice of their elders. Longevity brings a measure of respect and a reputation for wisdom. But the old men are not village chiefs and their prestige is not passed on to their sons.
Folklore of the Orchid Islanders includes belief that some of them are descended from stones and some from bamboo found in different parts of the island. But with intermarriage almost everyone has both stone and bamboo ancestors. Stone people once considered themselves superior. They built the first seaworthy boats, according to this tale, and received fishing instruction from the flying fish, which are still venerated.
Spiritual beings called "tau-roto" or "people above" supposedly live above the earth. The highest ranking, a usually benevolent figure called "Shirn-raoao," is credited with having the ultimate power to order such phenomena as rain, storms and fires.
Like the Polynesians, who navigated the Pacific with guidance from the stars, the Yamis pay considerable attention to the heavens. They have their own names for a number of constellations. The stars are called "mata-no-angit" - or "eyes of the firmament."
The Yantis share the belief of other primitive peoples of Southeast Asia that heaven and earth were once connected by a golden ladder on which the first humans descended. A giant eventually pushed up the sky. Before he did so, many fish jumped out of the sea and stuck in the sky, where they may be seen as the Milky Way.
We made a bus trip around Orchid Island at a cost of NT$1.50 (US$3.96) each on a road completed only a few years ago. It is still quite bumpy. The road work is done by inmates of a prison about halfway around the island from Hungtou, the hotel village. The convicts are building a road into the mountains above Hungtou. Yantis are given free transportation on the sightseeing bus if there is room. A number rode with us from Hungtou to their home villages.
En route, the driver recited the names of some of the many black lava formations that ring the island. Charles Tsou translated into English. Most of the formations are at the beaches or rise from the sea close in. A few are inland. Most of the names obviously were thought up by the Chinese; they refer to things outside Yami experience. "Monkey Rock" resembles a squatting monkey with a cap of greenery. "Indian Rock" has a profile not unlike that of the American Sioux on older U.S. nickels. "Bread Loaf Rock," which resembles half a loaf of black bread thrust up from the sea, was a Yami burial ground. For centuries bodies were taken by boat to the rock and left in caves near its base. This custom has not been followed for many years.
The dead, according to Inez de Beauclair, were believed to become "Anitos" who remained near their former habitations. Morsels of food were thrown in front of the house for them after a feast. "They are not considered to be altogether harmful, but can give protection and help," she wrote. "Sacrifices to ancestors are put on plates before the house, or on the roof, on such occasions as the yearly sacriftce to the tau-roto, on the eve of the launching of a new boat, at the crew leader's house, and at the wedding feast at the groom's house."
One of the more remarkable lava formations a short distance offshore is "Battleship Rock." The resemblance is more than superficial. It is said that during World War II on a day of poor visibility, it was heavily bombed by American aircraft whose crewmen thought it was a Japanese man-of-war.
At one point in our circling of the island we saw a reminder of a later conflict - a Vietnamese fishing boat that could not have been more than 30 feet long. A total of 84 people - men, women and children - boarded the craft in the Saigon area during the grim days of the Communist takeover in the late spring of 1975. They sailed north to the Philippines, where they made port for fuel, food and water. They beached their boat on Orchid Island 40 days after leaving Vietnam. The refugees were taken to Taiwan and given haven by the Republic of China.
In the hotel lobby that evening, a group of attractive younger Yami women in colorful costumes sang and danced. Members of the audience showed their appreciation with contributions of money. We recorded part of the program. Miss Wakelin said some of the songs were borrowed from the Ami tribe of Taiwan.
Inez de Beauclair wrote of the music of the islanders: "The Yamis, exposed to the continuous sounding of the sea and storm, possess no musical instruments. As to their songs, those sung at social functions, prayer-chants accompanying religious ceremonies, love songs and those sung on the sea must be distinguished. The girls know love songs and accompany their dances by singing, while the others are sung by men. The cradle songs, particularly, must be mentioned, more often sung by men than by women, when infants are put to sleep in swinging cradles.
"The prayer chants on the occasion of the launching of a new boat are striking with their solemnity, and, as they are rendered in unison by male voices recall the Gregorian chants. The antiphonal song of the eve of the same event, when the guests are welcomed and reply, also sounds grave and somber. The tune for the return from a rich catch is of a gayer mood."
During the 50 years that the Japanese held Taiwan and its offshore islands, from 1895 to 1945, they considered Orchid Island an "anthropological museum," barring missionaries and most other visitors. They offered some schooling but otherwise sought to keep the Yamis living as they had for centuries. We met a Yami who told Charles Tsou he spent three years attending a Japanese school. He still speaks Japanese as well as Chinese and his native Yami.
The Republic of China has taken the position that the Yamis are citizens and entitled to the same rights and privileges as the people of Taiwan.
Recent years have brought a mosquito-control program that wiped out malaria, once a scourge of Orchid Island as well as Taiwan. A county health office on the island has reduced the incidence of many other diseases.
There are four elementary schools and one junior high school for the children of the Yamis. Students admitted to senior high schools on Taiwan are given government subsidies for board and room. Most attend Catholic boarding schools.
An American firm which made a survey of tourist potential in the Republic of China several years ago recommended against building hotel facilities to permit overnight visitors on Orchid Island. The advice was rejected and the hotel built. Planeloads of tourists, mostly Chinese, pour into the island from Taiwan every weekend. The visitors are fast changing the ancient ways of the Yamis. Soon power lines will carry electricity to islanders. Television antennas will sprout from roofs, bringing pictures of the world beyond the sea.
So far the Yantis remain a closely knit people.
Few marriages take place outside the tribe. As we left, we wished them well -hoping that our civilization would not change them too much.