The Last Sandalwood

 

 

 

By Tupuola Terry Tavita


It looks like any ordinary piece of driftwood.


It sits at the corner of the truck bed as I unpack from my trip to Savaii this afternoon.


I do not want to take it into the house as there are Samoan taboos about bringing home objects from other villages, forests.


By most accounts we gathered though – this is what remains of the last Samoan asi manogi, native Samoan sandalwood tree, chopped down back in 1989.


A tree – and its fragrance – that lured fleets of European and Asian merchant ships to our shores at a most colourful time in Samoan history.
 

“A forestry inventory after the cyclones in 1992 – which included aerial surveys – revealed that the asi manogi (Samoan sandalwood) was no more, finished, gone” says chief forestry officer Fiu Nimarota.
 

Sitting at his modest office at the Asau Forestry Station – occasionally ruffling through some files – Fiu and I engage in a light chat on sandalwood.

 


In 2005, he said, Forestry introduced an Australian species that is now reviving the sandalwood industry.


“It is very similar to the Samoan asi manogi. It is also quite invasive. As you can see the asi is now growing wild on our compound here.”


He points at seedling growth – mingling with peanut weed – as we stroll along the expansive Forestry compound on the western tip of Savaii.
 

“The sandalwood is semi-parasitic,” he said.
 

“It needs a host tree to grow with. So we usually grow it with an orange tree.”
 

He also points out that there are three species of sandalwood in Samoa.


“The asi vai and asi toa are timber trees. They are quite common. We also have a lot of those two species growing in our forests here. It’s the sought-after asi manogi that is now extinct.


“Many people mistake the other two asi species for the asi manogi. So, no doubt, you will have many people claiming they have a asi manogi growing in their backyard.

 


 

Old log from the last endemic Samoan sandalwood, cut down at Papa Saua in 1989
 

SANDALWOOD


Sandalwood – asi manogi – was traditionally used in Samoa for medicinal purposes and, especially, as an essential oil.


It has a distinct wood note and its leaves were used as a funeral bedchamber. Hence the word falelauasi. During chiefly funerals, sandalwood logs were burned and its smoky fragrance filling the air.


The sandalwood trade – along of the trade of beche-de-mer and whaling – was at its height in the Pacific in the 1860s to the 1900s.
 

Forests of sandalwood were logged and shipped off to Europe. They were used for furniture-making or traded in India and China for spice.


The Asians – in turn – used sandalwood as incense in their rituals.
 

On the Australian market today, a metric tonne of Australian sandalwood is selling at AUS$12,000 (WST$26,000). Moreover, the same quantity of Indian sandalwood is said to be selling on Mumbai and Delhi auctions for up to AUS$105,000 (WST$240,000).

 


 

Hundreds of packaged Australian sandalwood seedlings ready for farmers
 

FORESTRY
 

But back to Asau, our conversation drifts to the various reafforestation programmes the Forestry department is implementing.


“Just up from here is the famous Cornwall Estate and our Masamasa forest rehabilitation programme,” said Fiu.
 

“About 600 to 800 acres of native and introduced timber trees – mahogany, ifilele, tava, tamanu and other trees – are ready for logging. But government has decided to ban logging altogether. The emphasis is now on planting and replanting trees, not cutting them down.
 

“Government wants to extend the green cover in this area.”


Despite a spate of forest fires in recent years, he said, the timber trees were not affected.
 

“The fires only affected low-lying areas. Mostly dry shrubberies and savannah outcroppings.”
 

We pass by workers planting and packaging tree seedlings under two big greenhouse facilities. Some 43 people – most from around the Asau area – are employed at this Forestry outpost.


Two trucks and a double-cab Four-Wheel-Drive – all appeared badly in need of repair work – are parked in a makeshift garage. There are also two paint-peeled washboard residential houses on the compound. Both appear vacant.
 

We reach the back skirts of the compound and Fiu points out the (Australian) sandalwood bloc.
 

“We have about 900 trees on a three-acre plot. The trees are about seven years-old. We’ve just come through a very dry, dry season. While every other vegetation turned brown, the sandalwood remained very lush. It’s the ideal tree for dry conditions. ”
 

Already, the trees are about three meters high.


“Sandalwood is harvested between 15 to 20 years. So these trees still need at least a decade’s growth. We also badly want to extend this plot. ”
 

But a festering land dispute with Asau village is hampering the project, he said.
 

“The village has claimed all the land behind this compound and beyond the sandalwood bloc. We do not want to extend this plot because the village will simply turn up one day and claim it as theirs.”


It is important, he said, that government resolves this issue immediately before more Forestry development is undertaken.
 

Our conversation returns to the asi manogi and I push him for his knowledge of the last known tree.
 

Fiu said, that though it has not been confirmed, he was told that the last tree grew somewhere at Papa Sataua.
 

He gave us the name Vaetoefaga Meti.

 


 

Forestry officer Fiu Nimarota and his staff at Forestry’s Asau station
 

PAPA-SATAUA


At Papa, we stop by a church construction site to ask for directions. A nephew of Vaetoefaga Meti working there offered to take us to his uncle’s home.


However, when we got to his house only his wife was there. Vaetoefaga had gone to Asau. We prodded her, but said she knew very little about any sandalwood. However, as we made our way out, Vaetoefaga’s brother Taua’i Fereti turned up. We were in luck again.


In his early fifties, Taua’i knew where the tree used to stand. He said it belonged to his uncle, Vaetoefaga Malo who passed away in 1996.


“Actually, there were three trees at three different properties. The other two disappeared through the years leaving one.”
 

In 1982, he said, a group of Japanese men turned up offering to buy the tree.
 

“They offered to buy it for $2,800. Which was a lot of money back then. But Vaetoefaga Malo refused saying the tree was worth more. So they (Japanese) took some cuttings and left. However, some years later, the tree appeared stunted and was drying up. We tried planting seedlings and cuttings but they never survived.”
 

So one day, he said, the old man took a chainsaw and cut it down.
 

We arrived at the location where the tree used to stand, but to our dismay, it was right in the middle of a coconut plantation and overgrown with weeds. We could not find anywhere a 50-year old sandal-wood used to stand.


As we were packing up to return to Apia, we asked Taua’i if there is any chance the old man would’ve taken the logs to his home.


He said it wouldn’t hurt to find out.
 

So we drove to the late Vaetoefaga Malo’s home, about 600 meters from the coconut plantation.
 

Taua’i and his nephew quickly disappeared underneath a hurricane shelter and – five minutes later – appeared with the booty.


A two-foot asi manogi log, hidden away for some 22 years.


We go down the shelter and there are six more logs – of varying size – there.
 

“After 22 years of cooking and doing the umu, none of the logs were used,” remarked my colleague.
 

“The old man must have really known what his sandalwood was worth.”


Because my colleague is a relative of Vaetoe, the log was presented to our care. There are plans to exhibit the log at the National Museum of Samoa at Malifa


HOPE


But all hope may not be lost.


We made a stop at Sapapalii and had a chat with one Papali’i Panama. After briefing him of our sandalwood search, he told us of a group of rich Americans, who through his uncle – the late American Samoa Speaker of the House Tuana’itau Faatamala – gave money to the village of Pu’apu’a to find them an asi manogi tree.
 

“This was back in 1980 I think. The Pu’apu’a aumaga (untitled men) searched the forests there for two weeks and found an asi manogi tree on top of the mountain range. Because it’s not a tall tree, it was shrouded by other big trees up there. They cut it down and brought it back to the Americans. That (asi manogi) tree may have sprouted again or there may be more such trees on that mountain range. Who knows? When they found what they were looking for the aumaga came back down.”
 

As we were paying for our tickets at the wharf, we again had chat with the woman working there. And she was adamant that she has an asi manogi growing in her backyard at Fogapoa village. She said her husband – who used to work for the Ah Liki logging company at Gataivai – came across the tree seedling while cutting down trees in the forest there.


He brought it home and planted it in his yard.
 

So perhaps there is another twist in the tale of the Samoan fragrant sandalwood yet. These leads and others that have been received by our office since will be followed up on our another visit to Savai’i.


And if there is an existing asi manogi tree growing somewhere in the country, this publication will find it.
 

On any sighting of the asi manogi tree, call Tupuola Terry Tavita at 761 5050 or 26 398 or Uale Papalii Taimalelagi at 774 7435 or 26 397

 

NS-12