Traditionally, Tikopia life has been permeated by the contrast between land and sea. Living on a tiny island less than three kilometres across, more than 150 km. from any larger land and 100 km. from Anuta, an even smaller dot in the ocean, the people of Tikopia were habituated to the constant sight of a horizon without a break all round, and the constant sound of the sea, from the quiet wash of the surf on a windless night to the roaring of breakers in a storm. The sea was a vital economic resource, for daily bathing, and for supply of almost their only flesh food, fish. It was also their sole avenue of communication with the outside world, by outrigger canoe, until in the nineteenth century European vessels made an occasional visit. And while it offered Tikopia men the opportunity to travel to other islands and satisfy their thirst for adventure, it continued to be a grave for large numbers of their most active young men and distinguished elders. Awareness of the sea was built into the Tikopia language. Not only has there been a large vocabulary connected with the sea, canoes and fishing, but also consciousness of the sea has entered into the most elementary directional indicators. In spatial distribution of objects, and orientation of personal activity, the most general sign has been the ascription of ngatai or ngauta - seawards or landwards - terms which can be used even if one is working on an orchard in the centre of the island or wrapped up in a blanket in a house (cf. Firth 1936: 18-21).