"The psychology of the old-time craftsmen may be read between the lines of Teuira Henry's account of shipbuilding in Tahiti. When a chief contemplated a voyage for which a new canoe must be built, he commanded his subjects to plant extra food crops to feed the craftsmen he should employ and to make bark cloth, to plait mats, and to collect red feathers to be used as payment gifts. After a sufficient supply of provisions had been laid in, the chief engaged one or more master craftsmen to take charge of the work. With them he went into the forest to select trees suitable for making the various parts of the canoe. If the required tree was not found in the woods owned by the chief and his tribal group, search was made in neighbouring territory. The suitable trees from the lands of other chiefs had to be obtained by diplomatic advances and the transaction sealed by appropriate gift payments. I use the term gift payment advisedly because the Polynesian approach to business matters was indirect. A chief sent a gift of food and property to a brother chief. If it was accepted, the receiver was under obligation to grant the request for a tree later made by the sender of the gift. If he refused, he lost prestige, not only in the eyes of neighbouring tribes but also among his own people. With but rare exceptions, the Polynesian chiefs went down, if they had to, with the flag of honour lashed to the mast.

After these preliminaries, the builders took charge. Each workman had his own kit of tools consisting of carefully chipped and finely ground adzes and chisels made of basalt rock. These were variously shaped for special uses and were lashed to short wooden handles by coconut fibre or sennit braid. The diversity and complexity of lashing designs shows the tremendous pride of the workman in his tools. On the last night of the moon the craftsmen took their adzes to the temple of their tutelary god and carefully 'put them to sleep' for the night in a special recess. At the same time, they offered up an invocation to Tane:

Place the adze in the sacred place / To be charged with divine power, / To become light in the worker's hands / And accomplish work amid flying sparks.

A feast confined to the skilled workers followed on the temple ground. A fatted pig was killed, and, as it was prepared for the oven, tufts of hair were plucked off as an offering to Tane while the craftsmen recited their motto:

Work with alert eyes / And swift-moving adzes.

Thus Tane received the first part of the pig. The pig was rosted whole and when it was cut up the tail was set aside for Tane. Thus Tane received the last part of the pig. These offerings were laid upon his shrine. The tutelary deity of the craft having received due recognition, his devotees could feast in the firm conviction that they would receive divine strength for the impending work.

At early dawn the still-sleeping adzes were awakened by being dipped in the sea, the element upon which their completed work was to float. As the cold water met the working edges of the adzes, the exhortation rang out,

Awake to work for Tane, / Great god of the artisans.

Before sunrise the artisans girded on their working loincloths and with adzes charged with the same divine spirit as themselves, they sought out the trees already selected. Tane was the god of the forests, and the trees were his children. Before laying adze to trunk, an invocation had to be offered up to Tane to placate him for the taking of his child. Some trees were the property of other gods, and the specific god had to be asked ritually for his consent to take the tree."

(Buck)