The Power of Salt

Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UFE0043936/00001

Material Information

Title: The Power of Salt a Holistic Approach to Salt in the Prehistoric Circum-Caribbean Region
Physical Description: 1 online resource (471 p.)
Language: english
Creator: Morsink, Joost
Publisher: University of Florida
Place of Publication: Gainesville, Fla.
Publication Date: 2012


Subjects / Keywords: anthropology -- archaeology -- caribbean -- salt
Anthropology -- Dissertations, Academic -- UF
Genre: Anthropology thesis, Ph.D.
bibliography   ( marcgt )
theses   ( marcgt )
government publication (state, provincial, terriorial, dependent)   ( marcgt )
born-digital   ( sobekcm )
Electronic Thesis or Dissertation


Abstract: This study examines the importance of salt, or sodium chloride, from an anthropological perspective. Arguments explaining the relation between power and salt in independent social contexts often solely rely on the material qualities of this resource. Emphasizing people's practices redirects the argument to the way salt is used to create human relationships. This study focuses on how people utilize salt to engage in social relationships. Salt and salted goods are edibles. Consumption is the final act involved in this resource. However, salt's relation to power depends only indirectly to consumption practices, as exchange of salt and salted goods often precedes consumption. The exchange of goods as gifts creates and imbalance of power between the donor and receiver through acts of indebting. The donor establishes a superior position vis-a-vis the receiver. Salt preserves and allows food to be stored. As a result, food can be accumulated beyond local needs, exported and exchanged. Salt facilitates exchange of edibles. Edibles that are primarily produced for exchange are conceptually divided from edibles produced from consumption. Where food is harvested to overcome nutritional needs, produce is employed in social relations and provides for a social requirement.The case-study of MC-6, Middle Caicos, Turks & Caicos Islands, indicates that salt was a powerful resource in the prehistoric Caribbean. Salt was harvested from the nearby Armstrong Pond, which produces vast quantities of this resource. The site's unique structural layout and artifact assemblage are the result of an emphasis of practices at this location, due to the presence of salt. From a practice-oriented approach it is obvious that salt, in and of itself, is not the only reason for MC-6's significance. The environment of MC-6 harbors different qualities important for its local economy, namely the fertile marine Caicos Bank and a hot and dry environment perfect for cotton production. Salt, fish and cotton form an economic triangle of mutual compatible practices. The extraordinary qualities of the material world surrounding MC-6 provided the perfect basis for the exploitation of these three resources. MC-6's significance is a product of the interaction between people and the environment and how these qualities were transformed into social power and status.
General Note: In the series University of Florida Digital Collections.
General Note: Includes vita.
Bibliography: Includes bibliographical references.
Source of Description: Description based on online resource; title from PDF title page.
Source of Description: This bibliographic record is available under the Creative Commons CC0 public domain dedication. The University of Florida Libraries, as creator of this bibliographic record, has waived all rights to it worldwide under copyright law, including all related and neighboring rights, to the extent allowed by law.
Statement of Responsibility: by Joost Morsink.
Thesis: Thesis (Ph.D.)--University of Florida, 2012.
Local: Adviser: Keegan, William F.

Record Information

Source Institution: UFRGP
Rights Management: Applicable rights reserved.
Classification: lcc - LD1780 2012
System ID: UFE0043936:00001

Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UFE0043936/00001

Material Information

Title: The Power of Salt a Holistic Approach to Salt in the Prehistoric Circum-Caribbean Region
Physical Description: 1 online resource (471 p.)
Language: english
Creator: Morsink, Joost
Publisher: University of Florida
Place of Publication: Gainesville, Fla.
Publication Date: 2012


Subjects / Keywords: anthropology -- archaeology -- caribbean -- salt
Anthropology -- Dissertations, Academic -- UF
Genre: Anthropology thesis, Ph.D.
bibliography   ( marcgt )
theses   ( marcgt )
government publication (state, provincial, terriorial, dependent)   ( marcgt )
born-digital   ( sobekcm )
Electronic Thesis or Dissertation


Abstract: This study examines the importance of salt, or sodium chloride, from an anthropological perspective. Arguments explaining the relation between power and salt in independent social contexts often solely rely on the material qualities of this resource. Emphasizing people's practices redirects the argument to the way salt is used to create human relationships. This study focuses on how people utilize salt to engage in social relationships. Salt and salted goods are edibles. Consumption is the final act involved in this resource. However, salt's relation to power depends only indirectly to consumption practices, as exchange of salt and salted goods often precedes consumption. The exchange of goods as gifts creates and imbalance of power between the donor and receiver through acts of indebting. The donor establishes a superior position vis-a-vis the receiver. Salt preserves and allows food to be stored. As a result, food can be accumulated beyond local needs, exported and exchanged. Salt facilitates exchange of edibles. Edibles that are primarily produced for exchange are conceptually divided from edibles produced from consumption. Where food is harvested to overcome nutritional needs, produce is employed in social relations and provides for a social requirement.The case-study of MC-6, Middle Caicos, Turks & Caicos Islands, indicates that salt was a powerful resource in the prehistoric Caribbean. Salt was harvested from the nearby Armstrong Pond, which produces vast quantities of this resource. The site's unique structural layout and artifact assemblage are the result of an emphasis of practices at this location, due to the presence of salt. From a practice-oriented approach it is obvious that salt, in and of itself, is not the only reason for MC-6's significance. The environment of MC-6 harbors different qualities important for its local economy, namely the fertile marine Caicos Bank and a hot and dry environment perfect for cotton production. Salt, fish and cotton form an economic triangle of mutual compatible practices. The extraordinary qualities of the material world surrounding MC-6 provided the perfect basis for the exploitation of these three resources. MC-6's significance is a product of the interaction between people and the environment and how these qualities were transformed into social power and status.
General Note: In the series University of Florida Digital Collections.
General Note: Includes vita.
Bibliography: Includes bibliographical references.
Source of Description: Description based on online resource; title from PDF title page.
Source of Description: This bibliographic record is available under the Creative Commons CC0 public domain dedication. The University of Florida Libraries, as creator of this bibliographic record, has waived all rights to it worldwide under copyright law, including all related and neighboring rights, to the extent allowed by law.
Statement of Responsibility: by Joost Morsink.
Thesis: Thesis (Ph.D.)--University of Florida, 2012.
Local: Adviser: Keegan, William F.

Record Information

Source Institution: UFRGP
Rights Management: Applicable rights reserved.
Classification: lcc - LD1780 2012
System ID: UFE0043936:00001

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2 2012 Joost Morsink


3 To my father and mother, Johan & Ireen


4 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS Many people have been instrumental in the completion of this study. First, and foremost, I wo uld like to thank Dr. William Keegan. Besides being the best advisor I could have wished for, Bill has also been a good friend. Many of the thoughts in this study are a product of our interaction and he constantly pushes me to explore new academic boundari es and topics. His willingness to share all his resources at the Florida Museum of Natural History, including collections, the Ripley Bullen Library and office space, have much improved the quality of my work. Without his recommendation letters I could not have ever received the funding that I did and finished in such a timely matter. Finally, his effort and investment of time to comment on my writings is much appreciated. I would also like to thank Dr. Susan Gillespie. She has been a crucial part of my tra and her classes form a strong foundation of the theoretical orientation in this study. I am very grateful for her guidance throughout my stay at UF and her ability to su mmarize and focus my thoughts has significantly helped me move forward in my academic development. I like to thank Dr. Susan deFrance for all her help and sharp remarks. Often, I would get too distracted with theory and she would put be back in place and r emind me that this is a much more practical study. Her knowledge about the Caribbean region and positive attitude motivated me to write this thesis. Finally, her recommendation for the Elizabeth Eddy study writing grant gave me the financial basis to quick ly finish this study.


5 I would like to thank Dr. Mark Brenner for his insights on salt production. His emphasis on the ecology of salt ponds and their seasonality has significantly pushed the agenda and brought me to my interpretations. Also, I would like t o thank him for inviting me to visit the salt works in Las Coloradas, Yucatan, Mexico. Seeing the salt works first hand and experiencing the warm and welcome atmosphere of Yucatan made me realize how connected this region is to the Caribbean. This study wo uld not have been possible without the financial aid by many institutions. I thank the Fulbright center in the Netherlands, the Prins Bernhard Cultuurfonds, the National Science Foundation, the Florida Museum of Natural History Associates and the Departmen t of Anthropology for providing their resources. I am extremely proud to be a recipient of these grants. The Department of Environmental and Coastal Resources, in particular Dr. Wesley Clerveaux and Dr. Eric Salamanca, and the Turks & Caicos National Trust in particular Ethlyn Gibbs, for all their help, facilities and hospitality during our stay there. Special thanks to Officer Wilson, aka supercop, for saving our project. I would like to thank Sylvia Chappel and Michael Dion for all their help during my fieldwork in St. Lucia and Turks & Caicos Islands. It was incredible to see how much devotion these two women have to help people like me in the field. Besides their much appreciated financial contribution, I truly enjoyed interacting and working with them I would like to thank the reminder of my field crew, Christopher Altes and Isaac conquered the millions and millions of mosquitoes. Without both their hard work, this field work would not have been as successful as it was. Chris deserves more acclaim.


6 Throughout my stay at UF, he became a really good friend. His help with GIS, maps and data management is much appreciated, as much as the times we brew beer together. Many thank s Michelle LeFebvre for her analysis of the zooarchaeological data of the site. Without her expertise, this part of the analysis would not have had the quality it has now. I am very happy that she was willing to go beyond a mere analysis and help with the interpretation process. I thank Josh Torres for sharing his expertise and forms for the pottery analysis. Interactions with him have always been pleasant and helpful. It is great to have a peer working on similar issues in the Caribbean region and discuss solution that we could provide to the field. I would like to thank Debby Mullins and Betsy Carlson as well. They are partially responsible for my move to UF. They both gave me the confidence that this would be a good career move and made me feel welcome wh en I arrived in Gainesville. I could not have asked for a better welcome committee. My gratitude also goes out to my peers at UF, especially Gypsy Price and Zack Gilmore. Having a social life is as important as an academic one. Discussions in and out of cl ass have significantly helped me formulate my arguments. More importantly, both helped me to retreat sometimes from academia and enjoy some free time. I would also like to thank Kristina Ballard for her willingness to draw my pottery. I would like to thank my friends in the Netherlands, especially Jimmy Mans and Renske Baten. Leaving your home country and the people you love was not an easy decision. However, the way I was welcomed every time I returned reminded me how


7 strong these relationships are. That, in combination with the friends that visited, gave me the confidence to continue my work at UF. They have no idea how much they supported me. I would like to thank Kathy, Bobby, Robert and Erin as well for welcoming me in their family. Being away from home was not always easy, but it was much easier by their openness and hospitality. My deepest gratitude to my father and mother, Johan and Ireen. I could not have asked for better support from my family. Although their financial support facilitated my stay, t heir moral support was essential for my success. They have always given me the confidence to choose what I wanted to do. This study is as much theirs as it is mine. Finally, my biggest thank you goes out to Anna. She is the best thing that has happened to me in these years in Gainesville.


8 TABLE OF CONTENTS page ACKNOWLEDGMENTS ................................ ................................ ................................ .. 4 LIST OF TABLES ................................ ................................ ................................ .......... 11 LIST OF FIGURES ................................ ................................ ................................ ........ 12 ABSTRACT ................................ ................................ ................................ ................... 14 CHAPTER 1 INTRODUCTION ................................ ................................ ................................ .... 16 1.1 R elationism ................................ ................................ ................................ ....... 19 1.2 Value and Power ................................ ................................ ............................... 21 1.3 A Practice Oriented Relationist Approach to Salt ................................ ............. 23 1.4 The Power of Salt ................................ ................................ ............................. 24 2 AN ECONOMY OF SALT ................................ ................................ ....................... 30 2.1 Salt Extraction ................................ ................................ ................................ ... 31 2.2 Evaporation ................................ ................................ ................................ ....... 36 2.3 Uses of Salt ................................ ................................ ................................ ...... 41 2.4 Consumption of Salt ................................ ................................ .......................... 43 2.5 Preservative Quality of Salt ................................ ................................ ............... 48 ................................ ................................ ............ 51 2.7 Archaeology and Salt ................................ ................................ ........................ 54 2.8 Conclusion ................................ ................................ ................................ ........ 55 3 THE SOCIALITY OF SALT ................................ ................................ ..................... 58 3.1 Sal t ................................ ................................ ................................ .................... 61 3.2 Food ................................ ................................ ................................ .................. 65 3.3 Physicality of Food and Future oriented Practices ................................ ............ 69 3.4 The Gift of Food ................................ ................................ ................................ 74 3.5 Feasts ................................ ................................ ................................ ............... 80 3.5.1 Diachronic Perspective on Feasting as a Social Strategy ....................... 85 3.5.2 A Career of Produce Exchange ................................ ............................... 90 3.6 A Feast of Salt ................................ ................................ ................................ .. 94 3.7 Salt Fish, the ................................ ................................ ................ 97 3.8 Conclusion ................................ ................................ ................................ ........ 99 4 THE SOCIALITY OF PRODUCTION ................................ ................................ .... 101 4.1 Salt and Private Land ................................ ................................ ...................... 103


9 4.2 Places of Salt Production ................................ ................................ ................ 106 4.3 Inalienable Salt ................................ ................................ ............................... 110 4.4 Salt, Gender and Mobility ................................ ................................ ................ 113 4.5 Seasonality of Salt ................................ ................................ .......................... 119 4.6 Conclusion ................................ ................................ ................................ ...... 121 5 THE IDEOLOGY OF SALT ................................ ................................ ................... 123 5.1 Material Worlds and Objects ................................ ................................ ........... 129 5.2 Durability an d Continuity of Salt ................................ ................................ ...... 133 5.3 Fertility and Sexuality of Salt ................................ ................................ ........... 137 5.4 Salt Magic ................................ ................................ ................................ ....... 141 5.5 Conclusion ................................ ................................ ................................ ...... 143 6 THE PREHISTORY OF THE CARIBBEAN ................................ ........................... 145 6.1 Caribbean Culture History ................................ ................................ ............... 145 6.2 The Bahamian Archipelago ................................ ................................ ............. 151 6.2.1 Three Dog Site, San Salvador ................................ ............................... 153 6.2.2 Cor alie Site, Grand Turk ................................ ................................ ........ 155 6.2.3 A Second Wave of Colonists ................................ ................................ 159 6.2.4 Colonization of the Bahamian Archipelago ................................ ............ 172 6.3 Culture History in Caribbean Archaeology ................................ ...................... 178 6.4 A Practice oriented Relationist Approach ................................ ....................... 189 6.5 Conclusion ................................ ................................ ................................ ...... 196 7 THE TEMPORALITY OF A CARIBBEAN TASKSCAPE ................................ ....... 199 7.1 An Economy of Substances ................................ ................................ ............ 200 7.2 The Temporality of the Taskscape ................................ ................................ .. 205 7.3 A Day at MC 6 ................................ ................................ ................................ 209 7.4 Salt, Fish and Cotton ................................ ................................ ...................... 212 7.5 Salt ................................ ................................ ................................ .................. 214 ................................ ................. 218 ................................ ................................ ......................... 2 29 ................................ ................................ ........ 233 7.5.4 MC 6 and Salt ................................ ................................ ....................... 237 7.5.5 Salt and Beyond ................................ ................................ .................... 246 7.6 Fishing ................................ ................................ ................................ ............ 249 7.7 Cotton ................................ ................................ ................................ ............. 255 7.8 Material Conditions of MC 6 ................................ ................................ ........... 264 7.9 Seasonality ................................ ................................ ................................ ..... 268 7.10 Temporality ................................ ................................ ................................ ... 271 7.11 A Caribbean Economy of Substances ................................ .......................... 274 7.12 The Temporality of a Caribbean Taskscape ................................ ................. 277 7.13 The Distinction Between Wet and Dry ................................ .......................... 282 7.14 Conclusion ................................ ................................ ................................ .... 283


10 8 MC 6 AND THE CIRCUM CARIBBEAN REGION ................................ ................ 285 8.1 Salt ................................ ................................ ................................ .................. 287 8.2 Fish ................................ ................................ ................................ ................. 296 8.3 Cotton ................................ ................................ ................................ ............. 300 8.4 Taskscapes Across the Region ................................ ................................ ...... 302 8.5 The Middle Caicos Hispaniola Connection ................................ ..................... 311 alt? ................................ ................................ ........................ 313 8.7 MC 6 ................................ ................................ ................................ ............... 318 8.8 Conclusion ................................ ................................ ................................ ...... 328 9 CONCLUSION: THE POWER OF SALT ................................ .............................. 332 9.1 MC 6 ................................ ................................ ................................ ............... 338 9.2 Practice oriented Relationist Approach ................................ ........................... 341 9.3 New Avenues of Research ................................ ................................ ............. 344 APPENDIXES A CALIBRATION REPORT C 14 DATES ................................ ................................ 350 B CHLORIDE SOIL SAMPLE TESTING RESULTS ................................ ................. 356 C XRD SAMPLE RESULTS ................................ ................................ ..................... 357 D MAP OF MC 6 ................................ ................................ ................................ ...... 380 E SEA SURFACE TEMP ERATURES OF THE CIRCUM CARIBBEAN REGION BY MONTH ................................ ................................ ................................ ........... 381 F RECOMBINED MAP OF TEMPERATURE AND PRECIPITATION IN CIRCUM CARIBBEAN REGION ................................ ................................ .......................... 382 G POTTERY ................................ ................................ ................................ ............. 383 H CORAL ................................ ................................ ................................ ................. 398 I SHELL ................................ ................................ ................................ .................. 400 J ZOOARCHAEOLOGICAL ANALYSIS ................................ ................................ .. 412 LIST OF REFERENCES ................................ ................................ ............................. 441 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH ................................ ................................ .......................... 471


11 LIST OF TABLES Table page 6 1 Radioc ar bon dates from GT 3 and GT 4 ................................ .......................... 163 6 2 Approximate land area, open air and c ave sites in the Caicos Islands ............. 164 7 1 C 14 dates from MC 6 ................................ ................................ ...................... 233 8 1 Vessel lots with open orifices per excavation location ................................ ...... 321 8 2 Phosphorus concentration from inside structures and midden area of MC 6. .. 324 8 3 Count of vessel lots per excavated location ................................ ..................... 325


12 LIST OF FIGURES Figure page 5 1 The relation between doxic and heterodoxic structures, agency, individuals and structure ................................ ................................ ................................ ..... 128 6 1 Circum Caribbean region ................................ ................................ ................. 146 6 2 B ahamian Archipelago ................................ ................................ ..................... 152 6 3 Palmetto Ware rims ................................ ................................ ......................... 155 6 4 Turks & Caicos Islands and surrounding region ................................ ............... 156 6 5 Middle Caicos with contemporary vil lages and important archaeological sites 166 6 6 Satellite, DEM and Tasseled Cap Greenness (TCG) maps for southeast Middle Caicos ................................ ................................ ................................ ... 168 7 1 Location of MC 6 and Armstrong Pond. ................................ ........................... 213 7 2 Northe rn edge of Armstr ong Pond ................................ ................................ .... 215 7 3 Location of cores from Armstro ng Pond from the south to north ...................... 219 7 4 Core 10 with associated C 14 dates ................................ ................................ 229 7 5 Map of central part of MC 6 with excavation units in red ................................ .. 231 7 6 North profile of N7E7 with C 14 dates ................................ .............................. 232 7 7 Stone alignments at Armstrong Pond ................................ ............................... 235 7 8 Lo cat ion of chloride soil samples ................................ ................................ ...... 241 7 9 Locations of XRD samples ................................ ................................ ............... 243 7 10 C shape artifacts, possibly used as net weights ................................ ............... 251 7 11 Pieces of Pteria colymbus and Pinctada radiata possible used for the manufacture of fish lures ................................ ................................ .................. 251 7 12 B asketry impressed Palmetto ware ................................ ................................ .. 252 7 13 Needles made of conch ................................ ................................ .................... 253 7 14 Green stone axe ................................ ................................ ............................... 257


13 7 15 Compl ete or broken hoes ................................ ................................ ................. 257 7 16 Cotton growing on the edge of the pond ................................ ........................... 262 7 17 A calendar of yearly routines, celestial cycles in relation to the months ........... 281 8 1 Drawings of the fish/frog and bat sherd ................................ ............................ 326 8 2 M etal object found in structure IV ................................ ................................ ..... 327


14 Abstract of D issertation Presented to the Graduate School of t he University of Florida in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy THE POWER OF SALT: A HOLISTIC APPROACH TO SALT IN THE PREHISTORIC CIRCUM CARIBBEAN REGION By Joost Morsink May 2012 Chair: William F. Keegan Major: Anthropology This study examines the importance of salt, or sodium chloride, from an anthropological perspective. Arguments explaining the relation between power and salt in independent social contexts often solely rely on the material q ualities of this resource. human relationships. This study focuses on how people utilize salt to engage in social relationships. Salt and salted goods are edibles. Cons umption is the final act involved in this practices, as exchange of salt and salted goods often precedes consumption. The exchange of goods as gifts creates and imbalance of power between the donor and receiver through acts of indebting. The donor establishes a superior position vis vis the receiver. Salt preserves and allows food to be stored. As a result, food can be accumulated beyond local needs, exported and exchanged. Salt facilitates exchange of edibles. Edibles that are primarily produced for exchange are conceptually divided from edibles produced from consumption. Where food is harvested to overcome nutritional needs, produce is employed in social relations and prov ides for a social requirement.


15 The case study of MC 6, Middle Caicos, Turks & Caicos Islands, indicates that salt was a powerful resource in the prehistoric Caribbean. Salt was harvested from the nearby Armstrong Pond, which produces vast quantities of t unique structural layout and artifact assemblage are the result of an emphasis of practices at this location, due to the presence of salt. From a practice oriented approach it is obvious that salt, in and of itself, is not the only reason for MC 6 harbors different qualities important for its local economy, namely the fertile marine Caicos Bank and a hot and dry environment perfect for cotton production. Salt, fish and cotton form an economic triangle of mutual compatible practices. The extraordinary qualities of the material world surrounding MC 6 provided the perfect basis for the exploitation of these three resources. MC environment and how these qualities were transformed into social power and status.


16 CHAPTER 1 INTRODUCTION This study examines the importance of salt in prehistoric communities. The power of salt, or sodium chloride, emerges out of the way salt is used a nd how it changes social relationships between people. Gift exchange of edible goods transforms allows for accumulation of resources and display of material wealth, ult imately facilitating exchange practices. Gift giving establishes a debt between donor and receiver and creates social inequality inducing an imbalance of power between the two social agents involved. It is this specific creation of social inequality throug h gift exchange of edible goods that makes salt so powerful. Salt alters social relationships through its use. Identities and values of people and salt are both defined through interaction. Archaeological evidence from MC 6, Middle Caicos, Turks & Caicos I slands indicates that salt was of considerable importance in the Caribbean past. This site is unique and incomparable to other sites in the region. Architectural alignments, stone importance in the past. Salt, exploited at the nearby Armstrong Pond, was the economic incentive to settle this location on Middle Caicos. As soon as the pond changes to a salt producing pond, people move into the area and establish the village. MC nique qualities must be attributed to exclusive access of salt from Armstrong Pond. People at MC 6 focused their economy on two other resources, namely fish and cotton. The Caicos Bank, a fertile marine bank to the south of MC 6, provided the fish that cou ld be salted and exported. Cotton, on the other hand, grows extremely well in


17 the Caicos climate and was exchanged throughout the Caribbean region in pre colonial and colonial times. Furthermore, cotton was an essential component for the nets used for fish ing. In addition, labor investments in these three industries are seasonal specific and do not overlap in time, making it an ideal combination of yearly routines. The regional significance of MC emerged from t Middle Caicos. Utilizing salt as a preservative for fish, people at MC 6 transformed a perishable food into a non perishable. Salted fish was exchanged with people from Hispaniola and pro vided proteins and salt, both dietary needs for people living in inland locations on the larger islands. These exchanges also provided the people at MC 6 with the perfect social context to convey and negotiate their social status in a public environment th rough gift giving practices, including cotton, inducing a relation between power and salt. The intrinsic connection between salt and power has been widely recognized throughout the world. For example, ancient China built the Great Wall through taxes on sal t, the Roman Empire paid their soldiers with salt and salt production along the north coast of Yucatan, Mexico, received full attention in pre Hispanic Maya economies. These distinct and unrelated societies all recognized that salt was a medium through whi ch power could be exercised. Control over salt provided the means to dominate and people in power employed this resource to maintain and/or increase their social status. The universality of this relationship between salt and power suggests that certain ma terial qualities are the source of that power. Salt has three important qualities, namely taste, dietary need and the ability to preserve foods. Salt is one of the four


18 tastes of the human palate and salted foods are considered to taste better than unsalte d dishes. Second, salt is a dietary need and plays a vital role in many important bodily functions. A lack of salt in a daily diet will lead to severe health issues and even death. The fact that people enjoy the taste of salt is often interpreted as an evo lutionary adaptation to secure consumption in relation to this dietary need. Finally, salt extracts liquids and produces an environment inhospitable for bacteria. Salt cures and prevents edibles from decay. The dietary need for salt and its capacity to pre serve foods are often used to explain the power of salt. This argument focuses on the nutritional requirement non owners. In the never ending quest for salt, non owners find themselves at the mercy and rule of owners. The argument linking power and salt to its capacity to preserve edibles emphasizes the need to maintain sufficient nutrients for a population, which can be difficult in the absence of refrigeration. In most environments, edible goods do not last indefinitely and producers are limited by the rate of decay. Seasonal differentiation in food supplies poses an incredible problem to communities lacking a preservative. Overproduction has no function unless surplus i s actually employed and edibles facilitates the distribution of edibles to people over a longer period of time. ctly to its material qualities. Salt is a static product that has certain characteristics and these characteristics produce the social values of the resource. There is a strict directionality in this argument, namely from the natural condition of the salt, i.e. its material quality, to the social values and


19 concepts of power. Power inherently resides in these material qualities. Salt is power and the qualities universally display social inequality independent of social context. The use of salt is always ass umed, but never problematized. Consumption is a given, an unquestioned action that has no impact on its material qualities and relation to power. However, there are many uses of salt that do not generate power or inequality. For example, one can observe ho w salt changes characteristics during humid and dry days, alternating between brine and rock (Kurlansky 2003) Salt is often placed on the kitchen table for people to use while eating dinner. In winter, salt is used as a deicer in times of frost and snow. It is unlikely that any of these practices produce power relations. Hence, the use of salt is essential for understanding its relation to power and, therefore, must be problematized first. Salt is not power, it becomes power through the way it is used. The material qualities of salt only have meaning in relation to how salt is employed and how people interact with this resource. The actions involved in salt create its power. 1.1 Relationism This study follows a relationist ontology. This ontology assumes th at everything, interaction (Barrett 1994; Bourdieu 1977; Giddens 1984; Ingold 2000; Munn 1986; Robb 2010; Thomas 1996) In other words, nothing is self contained or exists a priori to the creation of any relationship. To make sense of the world, people need to engage with it. And through this engagement, people also create themselves in relat ionship to this world. Being in the world is a necessity for both the world and people to exist. Qualities, values and meaning are dependent on their contexts and situations in which they are formed. As these forms are context dependent, they are relationa l. Relations create


20 things, because things are not in and of themselves laden with meaning and symbolism, ready to be understood by the passive observer. As these relations are constantly created anew, the emphasis of this relationist ontology lies in the creation of the relation and not in the relation as such. The process of establishing a certain relationship is the unit of analysis, rather than the form or definition of the relation per se. Human action is foregrounded as the fundaments of meanings and values of people, things and their environment. Movement is a necessary component for the creation of these relationships (Ingold 1995, 2000) The lived world is simultaneously the stage for action, but also a construct of the action that takes place in it (Munn 1986:8) This exact process, the production of social life through practices, is (1977, 1990) (1984) structuration theory. Although these relations are constantly created anew, a relat ionist ontology is not subjectivist. In the process of creating relationships, certain options are ruled out, as the past structures present interactions in similar ways. Relationships are always based on previous acts of creation. These past interactions establish a basis or structure, which restricts certain possibilities. As practices in the present automatically become part of that past, their performance immediately alters the structure. Even if the structure is continued and seems unaltered, the addit ional layer of past practices that conform to the structure lead to an affirmation and objectification of this structure. In sum, relationships are part of historical trajectories that are constantly emerging and adapting in the present (Barrett 1994; Bour dieu 1977; Giddens 1984; Ingold 2000; Munn 1986; Robb 2010; Thomas 1996)


21 This continuity of structures is based in the material world. Although the world is constantly created through relationships, its material qualities are rather stable and produce rel atively constant references. The material world, therefore, is an active agent in the formation of these repetitive structures. Gell (1998) was one of the first scholars to point out the role of objects and their material qualities as important agents in o ur daily lives. The material qualities of objects moderate which inferences are logical and which ones are not, limiting the possibilities of relations and interpretations. Latour (2005) and others (Gosden 2005; Ingold 2007; Miller 2005b) have built upon t his idea of the relative stability and durability of objects and the world. Relationships are, however, not bounded to the present and the past. To the contrary; people are future oriented. Actions in the present change the relations and knowledgeable agents, aware of its structure, will try to manipulate and negotiate their actions to increase their success in the future. People are mostly invested in these future situat ions and less so in the present. This part of practice is conscious and intentional, aimed at gaining respect and status through actively shaping existing structures for the future (Giddens 1984; Ingold 2000; Munn 1986; Robb 2004) Practices in the present have relations with the past and the future, but their true focus is future oriented. 1.2 Value and Power Two concepts central in this thesis, namely value and power, are relational too. Value and power are both defined in their specific context. Value is not something abstract or absolute, but a product of the potential that something has in the future (Graeber 2001; Munn 1986) People constantly evaluate value by the outcomes of past


22 practices and project that value into the future in relation to expecte d results. Value is, therefore, not quantifiable, because it is continuously contested and (re)affirmed. Yet, value is neither hyper fluctuating nor constantly changing, because it is simultaneously bounded by social structures. Based on past negotiation, general structures or regimes of value (Appadurai 1986; Gosden 2004) restrict the manipulation of value at a larger scale. Value is an outcome of the investment of time and labor dedicated to obtain desires and objects of importance. The relative distribu dedicate energy, intelligence and concern to these desires is what produces value (Graeber 2001:45) Power is relational, just like value, and refers to the ability to influence actions of others. Power is context specific an d totally founded upon the capacity to change social relations in the future. Existing structures or frameworks of reference guide negotiation and manipulations of power relations. Furthermore, power is produced through action and defined by investments of time and energy of people to change social relations with others (Mann 1986) Power is not possessed by people, but it creates people. People (Robb 2010:498 499) Without this enactment, power cannot be communicated to others and might as well be absent. This relational aspect of power implies that it is a culturally specific entity, totally structured upon past practices. Power is a relationship that emerges out of its performance (Robb 2010:499) A reocc urring theme here is the continuous interaction between microscales and macroscales. People practice on the microscale, in the present at a very particular place and time. Yet, these practices always refer to other times and places that are not


23 present. Pe ople determine the value, power, meaning and quality of any practice always in relation to other past practices and future objectives. Hence, the status of these concepts is codependent on its context and cannot exist in a social vacuum outside of these re lations (Robb 2010) Microscales and macroscales constantly interact and are both incorporated in practices. 1.3 A Practice Oriented Relationist Approach to Salt The approach followed throughout this study focuses on the actions that create, maintain, mani pulate or negotiate social relationships. Consequently, questions constantly recreated in practice. Any status or form is in a continuous state of becoming, never finalized or concluded. Attention is therefore directed to the ways people use salt and how value and power are created through effects of its use. The value and power of foregr ounded as they produce social life and are the source of meaning. A significant improvement of a practice oriented approach over other approaches is that the people enacting these practices, the native population in our archaeological record, are placed ov er contemporary categories and classifications. To arrive at a possible approximation of indigenous belief systems and concepts of value and power, past practices are an essential starting point to avoid the projection of present frameworks of reference on to the past. Classification of archaeological artifacts is not a goal in this perspective, as results categorize what these artifacts are outside of the relations in which these objects were used. To emphasize, the archaeological record and its objects ha ve a very specific role in this perspective. Rather than being the unit of analysis, the ultimate product of


24 research, a practice oriented approach uses the material record to understand how artifacts are used in the past in the creation of social relation s. Hence, these social relations are the unit of analysis and the artifacts are the unit of observation. In this perspective, objects transform from passive reflections of social identity to active agents within a social network of relations. Artifacts are consciously employed by past peoples to communicate certain future intentions. This means that objects in the archaeological record signify what people wanted to be, but not what they were. Previous approaches have often amalgamated the unit of observatio n and unit of analysis into one category, namely artifacts, but this perspective clearly separates these two and centers practices as the unit of analysis. This theoretical perspective is a guideline for interpretive models. Other theories and methodologic (1977, 1986) related practices (1996, 1999) (1993) task scape clarify how different practices form relational networks among each other. These three theories serve as methodological tools and apply a practice oriented approach more specifically in this research. Equally as important, these three theories are al l compatible with each other, as they are all based on a relationist ontology. 1.4 The Power of Salt The present study is subdivided into two sections. First, a general discussion of salt provides a basis for this inquiry. Chapter 2 discusses the material qualities of salt and describes its economy. Salt has very specific qualities that produce a material foundation for practices involved in its exploitation and production. Furthermore, salt is


25 not a homogeneous category and many different salts exist, dep ending on conditions in which they are produced and how they are extracted. The two main explanations for considered in detail. As argued above, these material condit importance in prehistoric societies and attention must be directed to its uses. Salt is ultimately consumed by people. Chapter 3 explains the sociality of consumption, which shows that the ability to preserve edibles c hanges conditions in which people can negotiate their social status. This is the practiced foundation of the importance of salt. The accumulation of edibles facilitates feasting practices as larger supplies of edibles can be used to give larger feasts. Als o, edibles can be distributed and exchanged over vast distances, incorporating more people into a network of exchange. In sum, the importance of salt emanates from all practices that occur before salt is consumed. Exchange practices transform the value of salt and determine the power of this resource. Through exchange, debts and obligations between exchange partners are created, establishing imbalances of power (Munn 1977, 1986) Salt modifies the social context of interaction and influences the mechanics of how social relations are created. Exchange results in an imbalance of power. Salt facilitates exchange of edibles and emanates from this transformational process where materia l qualities are negotiated and manipulated to alter social relations between people. An important conceptual distinction between food and produce must be made to understand the importance of exchange. Often times, anthropologists simply assume


26 that edibles are food, a material produced for consumption. However, edibles that are salted and accumulated may also be produced for exchange. Producers of these edibles are not interested in acts of consumption, but purposefully acquire edibles to give away and crea te debts. That consumption is part of later practices is only of secondary importance. These edibles are labeled here as produce goods that are consumable but are intended for exchange and the creation of social relations. This term produce is not only ap plicable to salted foods, but any type of edible that is primarily produced for exchange purposes. Within a social arena where people are conscious and aware of this possibility to increase social status through salt, people re orient themselves toward the limited places of production of this resource. The sociality of consumption informs the sociality of production. Control over salt production sites becomes a desired good and protection of its wealth might lead to the formation of land ownership. Private land requires labor, as non owning groups might pursue access as well. This, then, restricts the mobility of people and poses physical boundaries to other practices that people can and cannot do. The repercussions of orienting practices to salt production and ownership are vast. Chapter 4 evaluates these consequences. Once established and integrated into an economy, salt determines social life on many levels. Chapter 5 discusses how these practices on a microscale produce structures on the macroscale. Ideol ogical connotations to salt are widespread and the association of this resource with power did not go unnoticed in many different societies. However, these ideologies are a product of the microscale, of repetitive practices that bring durable macroscale st ructures into existence. Subsequently, these macroscalar


27 structures reinform practices on the microscale. The power of salt is a result of macroscalar structures and microscalar practices reinforcing each other through social interaction. The second sectio n of the study zooms in on MC 6, Middle Caicos, Turks & Caicos Islands, as a case study concerning how these social relations are brought into being at a microscale. Extensive previous research, including my fieldwork in 2010, at MC 6 identified salt as th e main economic product at this archaeological site (Keegan 2007; Sullivan 1981) Chapter 6 has two functions. It introduces the general Caribbean prehistory and establishes a context in which MC 6 is situated. In addition, it also provides an example of h ow a culture history framework provides a very specific theoretical basis for how the archaeological record is explained. This perspective is incompatible with a practice oriented approach. Therefore, it will also serve as a comparison of how a practice or iented approach, as applied in the subsequent chapters, is different from culture history and how the proposed framework provides a better explanation of MC Chapter 7 starts from the microscale, emphasizing the importance of practices at MC 6. Th is site is extraordinary and the material culture left behind has no equal in the entire Caribbean region. The first section of the chapter illustrates how different practices involved in the exploitation of salt, fishing and the production of cotton, toge ther form one relational network of interdependent practices. This network, or (Ingold 1993) forms the theoretical backbone for interpretation of its material remains. A six week, NSF supported excavation of MC 6 investigated two objectives in relation to local practices in this prehistoric taskscape. First, the history of the salt pond


28 was reconstructed to establish that salt production was actually possible when people were living at the site. Second, excavations at MC 6 were partially focused on the reconstruction of the habitation history of people and to determine when people started to live at the site. The evidence suggests that, as soon as conditions became favorable for the production of salt, people moved to MC 6 and established a villa ge. This confirms the importance of salt for this local economy. Excavation at the site served other objectives as well. Other practices, including storing and transporting salt, production of cotton and cotton artifacts and more mundane activities such as the production of pottery and basketry making and food production, are expected to be part of MC different from the culture history perspective. Theoretical assumptions about practices and their relationships with each other are prioritized and positioned first. Although placing practices before archeological evidence is a central premise of conducting a practice oriented relationist approach, it has the added advantage of explicitly recognizing theoretical assumpt ions as part of the interpretation. Too often, underlying Chapter 8 relates these practices on the microscale to the structures that are in place throughout the Caribbean region. MC practices at the site, but its power and significance only exist in relation to other places places lacking these qualities MC 6 does not exist in isolation, i.e. in a social vacuum. Rather, practices on the microscale were informed by structures on the macroscale.


29 The macroscale, therefore, is as important in regard to the meaning, value and power of MC 6 as local practices performed at the site. This study approaches an economic product, in this case salt, from a holistic perspective in which the practices involved with this product are placed central to its discussion. Although the material qualities provide an underlying b asis for discussion, the meaning and significance of any economic material relies exclusively on how people shows how day to day practices form durable and pervasive struct ures that organized social life. It redirects attention to the microscale and how individuals engaged with their lived world. The way people use artifacts indicates what future intentions people have. For archaeologists, these future intentions are part of our past. Yet, people engaging in these practices faced an uncertain future and they consciously tried to alter conditions in their favor. Considering artifacts for what they are obscures how these artifacts were used in the negotiation of social life. Ar tifacts were intentionally employed to change conditions in the future. Every person is limited through the structure of society, but these restrictions can always be negotiated. People consciously engage with existing structures and manipulate and negotia te their social position. This intentional behavior of people is the main subject of this study.


30 CHAPTER 2 AN ECONOMY OF SALT This chapter discusses the economic aspects of salt, including different production techniques, specific environmental condition consumption. Salt has very specific material qualities that determine how this resource can be used. For a practice oriented approach, practices need to be centrally placed. It seems counterintuitive to place mate rial conditions first. Yet, these material conditions structure practices in many ways. The y restrict when and where people can extract the resource, but also enable preservation of edibles. These restrictions and possibilities, founded on the material qua lities of salt, are the basis for this entire study and the subject of this chapter. The material qualities of salt demonstrate that salt is a highly sought after commodity with relatively restricted availability. This dynamic interplay between high demand modern situations. Modern standards of cheap and widely available salt cannot be transposed into the past. Throughout the chapter, different geographical and temporal case studies emphasize its cross cultural importance. This discussion underlines the universal significance of salt and indicates why archaeology, in general, should pay more attention to this resource. Extraction and production practices are explicated and the two main uses of sal t, namely for consumption and preservation of edibles, are discussed in detail. The social consequences of all these practices are left unconsidered for the moment. Although a holistic and practice oriented perspective does not perceive these social factor s to be independent of the economic parameters and material qualities, this artificial divide is


31 the main reason why salt has not always received the attention it deserves. To illustrate this point, the artificial distinction is maintained for now and deco nstructed in later chapters. For now, the discussion will concentrate on how salt determines how, when and where people can extract, produce and utilize this resource. 2.1 Salt Extraction Salt can be extracted in three different ways: mining, boiling and collection after solar evaporation (Andrews 1983; Kurlansky 2003:3; McKillop 2002; Parsons 2001) These three categories serve as holistic points of departure in relation to the production of salt, but there are many subtle and delicate variations on these themes. The principal factor that determines how salt is extracted is the quality of the source. All salt originates from the sea, but it can be found as both a solid and in solution. The different natural occurrences of salt require different extraction practices and determine processes of production. The differences between these three categories of production illuminate potential factors that regulate practices. Mining involves the collection of salt from natural layers. These layers are dried ancient s eabeds. Rock salt, the evaporative deposit that is left behind, is also known as halite. Rock salt can occur on the surface, for example the saltflats in Bolivia, as well as underground, for instance near the village of Hallstatt in Austria. In the Tarma r egion of eastern Peru, Tibesar (1950) describes a formerly covered salt vein that surfaced after a possible landslide. In all cases, the rock salt is extremely hard and needs to be disintegrated before harvest. Himalayan pink salt is an example of mined sa lts that are sometimes sold in complete bricks. The pinkish color of this salt is caused by small amounts of iron in the salt (Bitterman 2010) Most cheap industrial salts are mined.


32 Besides traditional mining techniques, which use wooden shafts with stone bronze or copper axes (Bromehead 1940; Grabner et al. 2007; Joosten et al. 2006; Kurlansky 2003) large scale mining is mostly mechanical. Large scale mining is the main reason why salt is so cheap these days (Kurlansky 2003) Sometimes halite deposits a re extracted by adding water. The halite is dissolved and salt is brought into solution again. Subsequently, the salty water (brine) is pumped out of the ground and heated over fires (Kurlansky 2003) In these cases, the mining of halite deposits is combin ed with the second category of production, i.e. boiling. Boiling increases the rate of evaporation from the brine, resulting in higher levels of salinity. In the past, people placed seawater or brine in pottery vessels and placed them above a fire. After p rolonged boiling, the salt crystalizes on the inside of the vessels. The pottery vessels that are specifically made for salt production are called briquetage and are often destroyed after their use (Flad 2005, 2007; Flad and Hruby 2007; Kurlansky 2003; McK illop 1995, 2002; McKillop and Sabloff 2005; Parsons 2001) The salt attaches so strongly to the pottery that the vessel has to be broken to make extraction possible (McKillop 2002) Briquetage is a good archaeological indicator of large scale salt product ion and is recognized in multiple distinct areas, for example the Sichuan Basin, China (Flad 2005, 2007; Flad and Hruby 2007) southern Belize (McKillop 1995, 2002; McKillop and Sabloff 2005) France (Olivier and Kovacik 2006) Mississippi area (Muller 198 4, 1987) and Mexico (Charlton 1969; Hewitt et al. 1987; Williams 1999) Brine is found in several forms. For example, brine can be found in salty marshes, either in close proximity to the sea or inland. Inland salt marshes form when halite


33 deposits are mi xed with rainwater. Other examples are brine wells, which are naturally occurring springs that contain a lot of salt. These brine springs develop when a natural spring passes an underground halite deposit before it reaches the surface, increasing the salin ity of the water in the process. Brine can also be made artificially. Saltmakers in the Valley of Mexico collect soils with high salt contents and construct conical funnel like structures. The soil is placed in these structures and clean water is added at the top. Through filtration, the water absorbs salts and the brine is collected at the bottom of the cone (Parsons 2001) Boiling of brine is not as straightforward as extraction from a mine. Although mining your way through a halite deposit is intensive a nd physically demanding, the production of salt through boiling demands more labor and resources for two reasons. First, the brine needs to be prepared to increase salinity. The saltmakers in the Valley of Mexico deliberately collect soils with high salt c ontents (Parsons 2001) McKillop (2002) mentions that seawater from the nearby lagoon in Belize has higher salinity content than the sea, i.e. >35g L 1 She also mentions the possibility of pouring high salinity seawater into old seafaring canoes to increa se the salinity of the brine. The salinity of the brine would increase by adding the salt that infiltrated the wood while the canoe was used for seafaring (McKillop 2002) Saltmakers in Japan construct bamboo towers with several levels, letting the brine f ilter from top to bottom. The tower increase s the total surface area and facilitates wind passage, boosting evaporation of water without additional fuel costs (Bitterman 2010) The second factor that increases costs of boiling is fuel. The brine needs to b e boiled for an extensive period of time to allow all the water to evaporate. Especially in


34 cases where salt is produced on a large scale, fuel resource depletion is a potential hazard for this economic practice. In drier areas, where large trees are absen t, this can pose significant costs to the production process. For example, local saltmakers in the Valley of Mexico utilized plant and animal fuel prior to 1970, but recently switched to rubber from tires and shoes to reduce costs. In the dry valley, trees are scarce and too expensive for fuel. Despite the health risks involved in the large scale burning of rubber, this fuel is less expensive and a reduction in cost was needed to compete with large industrial salt producers in the region (Parsons 2001) The refore, both the preparation of the brine and the process of cooking are time, labor and resource intensive. Salt can also be obtained through burning water hyacinths, as practiced in the Xingu region in Brasil (Heckenberger 2005) In this region, some gro ups also eat dirt to obtain the essential amount of salt (Michael Heckenberger personal communication 2010). Furthermore, the burning of specific palms produces ash that contains salt, which can be utilized as a source (MacKinnon and Kepecs 1989; McKillop 2002) Peat was burned in the Netherlands and Belgium for the same purpose (Kurlansky 2003:133) These practices produce a lower quality salt, because many impurities are present in the ash. Also, burning of water hyacinths produces a high amount of potass ium carbonate (K 2 CO 3 ), a white salt. Despite its salty taste, this potassium carbonate does not substitute for NaCl and suffice for human bodily functions, which will be discussed later. The final category of salt production is the most straightforward pro cedure. In certain places, environmental conditions are such that saline water evaporates so fast that salt crystalizes. This technique is called solar evaporation, because solar energy is


35 a key factor in the evaporation process. In these specific places, salt can be harvested on the ground or at the edges of a body of water. In other places, such as Brittany, France, environmental conditions are favorable for the production of salt, but human intervention, through an elaborate system of different ponds and selective use of seawater, increases salt production (Bitterman 2010; Kurlansky 2003) Salt extraction and production is relatively easy in situations where salt occurs naturally without intervention. The only procedure that is sometimes required is brea king or grinding of salt as it becomes a relatively hard conglomeration when evaporation continues for a long time (Augusto Oyuela Caycedo, personal communication). On the other hand, large blocks of hard salt were used in Colombia for long distance trades because small granular salt did not last in the humidity of the tropical rainforest for a long time (Cardale 1981: in Parsons 2001) In situations where the granular salt is higher valued, managing the brine or salt in early stages of the process prevents the formation of larger and harder blocks of salt. Despite these idiosyncratic preferences, the exploitation of salt is relatively straightforward. When people do intervene, labor requirements increase for two reasons. First, salt pans are constructed and maintained before the salt can be extracted. Second, practices of raking the salt are physically demanding and often take place during the heat of the day, when solar evaporation is highest. Costs also increase, because tools need to be acquired and facil ities are necessary to store the harvest. Although human intervention increases production, it also increases the cost of the whole operation. Human intervention can also change and direct the quality of the salt. In Gurande, Brittany, France for example, two different types of salt are produced,


36 namely sel gris (gray salt) and fleur de sel (salt flowers). Both types are produced in the same salt ponds, but sel gri s is produced after a longer process of solar evaporation and collected through raking, while fleur de sel is collected by carefully removing thin crystals of salt that are formed on the surface of the pond (Bitterman 2010) The production of fleur de sel only happens on days when a strong warm wind blows over the salt ponds, whereas sel gris can be collected at the end of the day. F leur de sel needs to be collected when the warm wind blows over the water and only occurs during the day. Fleur de sel is one of the most favored salts and used in many top quality restaurants (Bitterman 2010) 2.2 Evap oration In the example of fleur de sel it becomes apparent that d ifferent techniques and times of collecting the salt affect its quality, suggesting that practices involved in the collection are meaningful and intentional. To understand the choices and th e decision making processes of people involved in the production of salt, the factors that determine this process require more attention. The rate of water evaporation in salt ponds is related to multiple factors, namely surface area of the water, depth of the water, original salinity of the water, wind energy, solar energy and precipitation. Although water always evaporates from bodies of water, salt crystals only form when the brine concentration reaches sodium chloride content of more than 25% per volume and it works as a strong limiting factor in the process (The Salt Institute 2011) For example, rain water decreases salinity levels and prohibits crystallization. In other dry situations, highly saline waters can be absent, preventing the crystallization of salt. A delicate balance of all factors is essential for the solar evaporation of salt and therefore salt only occurs


37 naturally in specific locations across the world. Solar evaporated salt is relatively scarce and highly dependent on local conditions. All factors deserve more attention. First, solar energy is the most important factor. Evaporation must exceed water influx to increase salinity levels and allow crystallization. Rates of evaporation depend mostly on the temperature of the water and solar energy that heats it; more solar energy, more evaporation. Warmer water molecules have higher kinetic energy and evaporate quicker. Solar energy is not simply equal to hours of sun, but also depends on the height of the sun in comparison to the horizon. Th e higher the sun is above the horizon, the higher the solar energy is per unit surface area. Even long sunny days at higher latitudes do not provide enough energy to produce salt from seawater, as the solar energy per unit surface area is low and does not provide the necessary amount to increase the temperature of water. Second, larger surface areas provide a better environment for wind to blow over the pond. If vegetation around salt ponds hinders evaporation, larger ponds allow wind to touch the water and carry water molecules away from the pond. Third, the depth of the pond is important, because it is directly related to the total volume of water. Shallower bodies of water hold less water and have a higher surface area:volume ratios than deep lakes. Fur thermore, the temperature of smaller volumes of water increases faster, which increases evaporation. Both the surface area:volume ratio and the decreased energy requirements are both factors that are related to the depth of the pond or lake. Fourth, origin al salinity of the water determines if salt crystals are able to actually form. Even if rainfall is absent and sun and wind are available, salt will not crystalize in


38 sufficient quantities if the original salinity is low. In these circumstances, salt exist s in quantities too low to make its exploitation economically viable, especially on a large scale. Solar evaporation is only possible with salty water from the sea or thick brines from brine wells. These sources have high concentrations of sodium chloride and form salt crystals after evaporation. To keep production going, a constant or periodic influx of water occurs in most bodies of water. Salt ponds near the sea, for example, are fed through either infiltration through saline ground water or periodically filled at high or spring tides. In all situations, influx of highly saline water is necessary to produce salt through evaporation. Wind is another factor in the process of evaporation. Wind energy transports water molecules away from the salt pond and pre vents water molecules from being re absorbed into the pond. Wind also decreases the air pressure above the pond, allowing more water molecules to escape from the water. A constant wind over a salt pond does facilitate the process of evaporation quite subst antially. Formation of fleur de sel in Brittany, France, is an example of how wind energy can affect the rates of evaporation. In these circumstances, the wind increases evaporation to such a degree that crystals form on the water surface. Finally, rainfal l is an important factor in evaporation. Rainfall dilutes salty water and can only be present in low amounts to allow formation of salt crystals. Salinity levels of rain water are low and can completely outcompete rates of evaporation. Furthermore, rain wa ter decreases the temperature of already heated bodies of water, impeding evaporation rates. Not only occasional showers, but also more intensive episodes, such as tropical storms and hurricanes can significantly dilute and cool down saline waters. In


39 addi tion, precipitation can destroy (freshly) harvested salt and bring it back into solution. Rainfall is not only a limiting factor in the actual production of salt, but is also a severe threat that can ruin a harvest. Rain is a crucial and often limiting fac tor for natural production of salt. The limiting environmental conditions significantly constrain the time of year when salt can be produced. Very few places that rely on either boiling or solar evaporation are able to maintain production year round. Produ ction of sea salt through evaporation is highest in May in Mexico, just before the start of the rainy season (Ewald 1985; Parsons 2001) Saltmakers in the Valley of Mexico gather the saline soils in that same period, because the drought exposes the salinit y in the soils, facilitating collection of the most saline deposits. Bermudians moved to Grand Turk and Salt Cay during the summer months throughout the 17 th and 19 th century and stayed on Bermuda during the winter. In the montaa in the Tarma region of Pe ru, salt is mostly collected in July, August and September (Tibesar 1950) Although the salt is collected as a solid and present year round, the driest months are still preferred. July, August and September are also the driest and hottest months in Brittan y, France, and the production of sel gris is mostly restricted to these months. The fleur de sel only occurs on these summer days when conditions are favorable (Bitterman 2010) This underlines how important environmental conditions are in the production of salt. For solar evaporation, seasonal shifts restrict the availability of fresh salt in most circumstances. The precise balance among multiple factors that is needed is so fragile that it only occurs during specific months of the year. As a result, salt production is seasonally bounded and people who engage in these practices have other jobs during


40 the remaining months of the year. It also causes a lot of stress in the months of production, as all tools and other features such as salt pans need to be com pletely in place and working when the conditions are favorable. People were aware of these environmental factors in the past and tried to manage these variables, as is demonstrated by salt pans. Salt pans have several characteristics. First, salt pans are located near water with high salinity, often the sea. Second, salt pans are often shallow, with low volume and high surface area. The surface area allows more water molecules to escape, while at the same time it increases the surface that can be heated by the sun. The low total volume supports a rapid increase in temperature, which also increases evaporation. Third, salt pans are often a combination of different enclosed areas and water with different salinities is moved from one pan to the other. The step s are necessary to increase the salinity of the brine, before it goes into the final evaporation pond. It also allows sediments and other impurities to settle, omitting them from the final product. In most situations, impurities and sediments hurt the qual ity of the final product. Hawaiian salts are an exception, where clays are added to the salt. These sediments change the flavor and are thought to have medicinal qualities (Bitterman 2010) Fourth, already crystalized salt is raked and extracted from the p ans. This constant process of raking and extraction of salt opens up volume for new brine to be added to the pond, while at the same time the remaining water in the freshly raked salt can evaporate outside the pan. 1 Finally, construction and maintenance of salt pans is planned and executed in the seasons when salt is not produced. The seasonality of salt production is anticipated and a future oriented 1 Bitterman (2010) provide s a detailed description of the practices of salt raking. Although his description is focused on the salt works in Gurande, Brittany, France, similar procedures are followed in other areas of the world.


41 perspective is required to maximize the results in the months when production is high. The year round pract ices all revolve around the production months, indicating that people are fully aware of the changes and fluctuations. However, this does not explain why people wanted salt so muc h. To fully understand and appreciate the reasons why salt was of such signif icance in past economies, the role of salt for humans must be explored. 2.3 Uses of Salt Evidence for past salt production and extraction shows that people used this resource. Yet, the functions of salt are diverse and manifold. The Salt Institute (2011) c ounts 14,000 uses for salt, including consumption, pharmaceuticals, softening hard water and industrial uses of salt. The largest use of salt in the United States today is for industrial and road safety account for the largest part of annual salt consumption are relatively new uses for salt. There are also many medicinal uses of salt (Astrup et al. 1993; Ewald 1985; Kurlansky 2003; McKillop 2002; Parsons 2001) Most medicinal uses are related to the electrolyte balance of sodium and chloride ions. Furthermore, specific sources produce consume these salts to overcome certain deficiencies. Some spr ings are considered to have medicinal qualities, without direct evidence for what factors are of medicinal purpose, such as the salt springs near Ixtapa in Chiapas, Mexico (Ewald 1985:9,43) or the Dead Sea in the Levant. A combination of honey and salt is used in Yucatan to recover from child birth, without direct evidence of its medicinal benefits (Ewald 1985:9)


42 A post colonial use of salt in the New World was silver mining (Ewald 1985; Parsons 2001) Salt and mercury were both ingredients for refining si lver ores in the patio process, where salt was mixed in with water and crushed silver ores (Ewald 1985:12) This specific use of salt was the main reason why salt production came into colonial hands, because the Spaniards needed to secure the quantity, qua lity and price of this essential product for silver production. High prices as a result of low salt supply would ruin profits. It is important to take this post colonial practice into account when reading historical documents, as the silver industry produc ed an enormous increase in the demand for salt that was not evident in a pre colonial setting. Parsons (2001:241 248) discusses another use of salt that might also have been practiced in pre colonial times. In many parts of the world, salt is used as a mor dant by traditional cloth dyers. The solution of salt (and lime) fixes colors in cloth and ensures that the colors will last longer. This association between salt makers and cloth dyers is particularly apparent in West Africa, where processes of leaching s alt out of the soil are associated with practices of producing dyes and dying cloth (Parsons 2001:241) In Mexico, tequesquite a salty crust that forms when salt marshes or springs dry up after the rainy season, was of particular interest for this use as it is not only composed of sodium chloride, but also sodium carbonate, sodium sulfate, sodium nitrate, potassium chloride and potassium sulfate. All these constituents help the color attach to the fabric (Parsons 2001) Although Parsons does not mention an y specific documents that describe these practices in pre colonial times, it is very likely that people were aware of this quality of salt.


43 The industrialization of salt production resulted in a lower price for this resource, simultaneously opening other v enues for its use. The lower price enabled people to employ salt in situations where it previously would have been too costly. Most of the uses described above are more recent uses for salt. In pre modern situations, salt served two primary uses; consumpti on and preservation. Salt was eaten and added to dishes to enhance its taste. Further, salt was added to perishable edibles to preserve them. As a preservative, salt is ultimately consumed as well. These two uses are the most important for social contexts in the past and a holistic anthropological perspective of this resource. Therefore, these two uses are described separately. 2.4 Consumption of Salt The consumption of salt has been a contested topic in the last couple of years in the United States and oth er regions in the Western world. Currently, the average intake of sodium per capita exceeds the recommended daily values. The Center for Disease Control and the US Department of Health and Human Services recommend 1,500 mg/day for middle aged and older adu lts and blacks and 2,300 mg/day for others (CDC 2010) Today, the average intake of sodium is double that and research suggests that high sodium diets increase blood pressure and chances for heart failure and strokes. Most salts are consumed through proces sed or restaurant foods, about 77%, compared to only 10% from table salt and cooking (CDC 2010) The high amounts of salt and other substances, such as fats and sugars, in processed and restaurant foods contribute to obesity and type 2 diabetes. Both are h uge health issues and people are becoming more aware of the risks. Other research, however, has shown that healthy kidneys are perfectly capable of extracting excess salt from the human body. People who are physically fit are capable


44 of balancing the righ t amount of salt in their bodies and do not experience any negative effects from consumption of salt above recommended values (Bitterman 2010; The Salt Institute 2011) Bitterman (2010) states that healthy kidneys can process three pounds of salt a day whe n sufficient water is consumed. A long term study on the effects of salt on hypertension demonstrated a correlation, albeit harmless, between salt intake and hypertension. The same study indicated that low salt diets are harmful and increase cardiovascular mortality. High sodium intake is not necessarily good for the human body, but a reduction of salt intake is less desirable and increases mortality rates (Stolarz Skrzypek et al. 2011) This shows that salt is vital for human health. As with anything in li fe, moderation seems to be the key. Salt is a dietary need for humans and a lack of salt will lead to health issues and eventually death (Andrews 1983; Astrup et al. 1993; Denton 1982; Kurlansky 2003; McKillop 2002; Sullivan 1981) For example, a water onl y diet will lead to death from lack of salt, rather than food starvation. The human body is incapable of producing salt, and the daily loss through urine, faeces, sweat, tears and other excretions demand daily replenishing. In extreme conditions, such as d esert like conditions or illness, the body loses not only water, through excessive sweating or diarrhea, but also large amounts of salt (Denton 1982:45) Soldiers in World War II were found to lose 24 liters of sweat during a day in the North African deser t, resulting in a loss of between 70 and 100 grams of salt (Denton 1982:85) Hydration is not the only issue that one needs to be concerned with in these circumstances. Salt is a dietary requirement for very specific reasons. Pure salt is made out of sodiu m, the cation Na + and chloride, the anion Cl It is peculiar that both Natrium, the


45 metal form of sodium (Na) and chlorine, the gas (Cl 2 ), are poisonous to the human body. Natrium reacts very powerfully with water, producing a liquid (NaOH), a gas (H 2 ) a nd heat. 2 The gas expands, a process that is further amplified by increased temperature creating an explosion. Because the human body is mostly made of water, the metal Natrium is very dangerous. For Chlorine other health risks are involved. Chlorine in hi gh concentrations in the air can cause severe irritation to body tissues, including lungs and nose, producing breathing difficulties and chemical pneumonitis, the accumulation of fluids in the lungs. A reaction with water produces hydrochloric acid, a powe rful acid that burns the skin (Bitterman 2010:36) 3 Fortunately, both Natrium and Chlorine are very reactive and do not occur in their elementary form without human interference. The functions of sodium in the body are incredibly diverse. Sodium is the ma in cation in our body and the regulation of sodium concentrations within the body is vital for some elementary bodily functions (Denton 1982:4) Sodium is dissolved in blood plasma, extracellular fluid and lymphatic fluid and its balance is regulated by wa ter intake. The differences in concentrations determine the exchange of fluids and other elements between cells, blood and other bodily fluids. Hence, there is a strict relation between sodium concentrations and water in the human body (Andrews 1983; Astru p et al. 1993; Bitterman 2010; Denton 1982; McKillop 2002) Furthermore, sodium is a positively charged ion that is essential for the function of the nervous system and muscle contractions (Astrup et al. 1993; Denton 1982; McKillop 2002) 2 The complete reaction of Natrium with water is: 2N a(s) + 2H 2 2 (g) 3 The complete reaction of Chlorine with water is: 2Cl 2 (g) + 2H 2 O 4HCl (aq) + O 2 (g)


46 Early symptoms o f sodium deficiency, or hyponatremia, are headaches and nausea, but these symptoms can quickly lead to more severe problems such as muscle spasms, seizures and heart rhythm problems. Eventually, this will lead to coma or death. A decline in sodium concentr ation also facilitates the growth of viruses, bacteria, yeasts and molds in the body, causing secondary health issues (Astrup et al. 1993; Bitterman 2010; Denton 1982) Sodium deficiency is quite common, especially among herbivores. Plants have little sodi um content and a diet primarily based on plants is not sufficient to overcome the daily loss. Additional sources are necessary to maintain appropriate sodium balance and multiple animals have been observed eating soils or gathering at salt licks to add sod ium to their system. Omnivores and carnivores sustain a healthy sodium balance from the meat that they consume, containing sufficient sodium to overcome their daily loss (Denton 1982) Hypernatremia, the opposite of hyponatremia, is very uncommon and gener ally caused not by consuming too much sodium, but rather through depletion of water through excessive sweating or other ways of losing fluids. Any increase in the sodium concentration immediately induces thirst, thereby helping balance the sodium concentr ation, and people naturally respond to these situations. This strong natural response reduces the number of people who suffer from hyponatremia and it only occurs in situations where water intake is restricted (Bitterman 2010; Denton 1982) Although Denton (1982) salt, chloride also has essential roles in bodily functions. Chloride serves as an electrolyte in the nervous system (Andrews 1983; Astrup et al. 1993; Bitterman 2010; McKillop 2002) facilitate s protein digestion as it triggers the enzyme pepsin in the


47 stomach and it is part of important neurotransmitters in the brain (Bitterman 2010) Furthermore, hydrochloric acid in the stomach kills bacteria and viruses, protecting the body. A lack of chlori de significantly affects these functions and jeopardizes health. tastes (Astrup et al. 1993; Denton 1982) Salty products are often considered pleasant and enjoyable. The reas on for this quality ensures that people consume salt in sufficient amounts. Our hunger for salt is a result of evolution and salt deficiencies were avoided by an increased longing for it. This longing for salt prohibited a lack of sodium and chloride ions in our system and the possible shut down of some vital organs and functions in the human body. As shown, both sodium and chloride are essential for survival, yet numerous areas in the world lack salt, especially inland areas far removed from the saline wat ers of the sea. Such areas are completely dependent on local encrustations, rocks or brine wells. This is the exact reason why so many herbivores gather at salt licks, because access to salt is crucial for survival, but restricted at the same time. These l ocations form excellent places for omnivores and carnivores to find prey, because the aggregation of animals is expected and locally concentrated. Dietary need for salt has often been the main focus of archaeological analysis of its significance. Especial ly with large population, the need for salt becomes very prominent. Recommended values for salt intake vary between 0.5 and 5 grams a day in normal circumstances (Andrews 1983:9; see also Sullivan 1981) to 30 grams per day in tropical environments where lo ss increases as a consequence of high rates of perspiration. In the case of the World War II soldiers in the African desert, 70 100 grams


48 would have even been required. Andrews (1983:9) argues that 8 to 10 grams/day were required in the Maya lowlands. For a region with 1 million inhabitants, a daily requirement of 8 grams a day means 8,000 kg a day or 2.92 million kg per year. What emerges is a structural need for salt in tropical regions where sources of salt were relatively rare, difficult to exploit or c ompletely absent. When meat is consumed fairly regularly, this dietary need is not a problem. Animal meat contains salt and consumption of meat, therefore, satisfies the dietary requirement. However, with the advent of agriculture, diets changed drasticall y and meat was consumed less. This change in diet led immediately to a higher demand for salt. This correlation between a high requirement for salt and agricultural economies is often emphasized, also because a more sedentary way of living decreases the op portunities to collect salt when a source is absent. An increased economic focus on plants eventually results in an increased economic focus on salt (Andrews 1983; Andrews and Mock 2002; Bitterman 2010; Bloch 1976; Carlson et al. 2009; Ewald 1985; Flad 200 7; Hewitt et al. 1987; Kepecs 2004; Kurlansky 2003; MacKinnon and Kepecs 1989; McKillop 1995, 2002; Muller 1987; Tibesar 1950; Williams 2002, 2010) Especially in hot and humid environments where sources of meat are limited, such as the Maya lowlands and t he tropical lowlands of South America, salt and salt trade were essential. 2.5 Preservative Quality of Salt Besides the dietary need, salt has another valuable quality for economic purposes. Salt preserves. Adding salt to meat and vegetables changes their chemical composition and prevents decay. This chemical process has two functions that allow edibles to last. First, sodium and chloride concentrations are beyond the levels in which bacteria and other microbes can live. Second, salt extracts water and proh ibits bacteria from


49 absorbing water for their growth. Salt is an extremely powerful resource that can transform the properties of a perishable into a product that can be stored and oes by adding salt to them (Kurlansky 2003) Many products that are still widely available, such as soy sauce, hard salami and prosciutto, salted fish, are the result of salting practices that were used to preserve products for longer periods of time. Cool ing or smoking are two other practices that preserve meats and vegetables and are common in many places around the world. In the Western world, some smoked food items, like smoked eel, are even considered delicacies. These other ways of preserving edibles, however, have obvious disadvantages. Ice does not occur everywhere or last year round. Refrigerators and electri city are means to lower temperature and overcome the lack of ice but th is technology is very recent, invented in 1876 by Carl Paul Gottfried v on Linde in Germany. Only after World War II did refrigerators become commonly used, as prices dropped and electricity was more available. The process of smoking has two disadvantages. First and foremost, smoking is very fuel intensive. Just as for boiling brine to extract salt, large amounts of wood are necessary for smoking. Moreover, not all wood is desirable for burning and hardwoods are preferred. 4 On a small scale, this might not present too many difficulties, but on larger scales the supply of hardw ood can become problematic. With respect to this point, a large amount of energy needs to be invested in the cutting of trees and procurement of wood. 4 Smoking with pine is not recommended. The resin in pine turns the taste of the meat bitter.


50 In situations where salt is produced by boiling, the resource requirements for salting and smoking would be similar and there would be advantage to using one procedure versus the other. Both salting and smoking require a significant amount of wood to preserve meats and vegetables. However, a second disadvantage of smoking is timing. When a fire is started fo r smoking, all meats and/or fish must be available. When the fire is ou t and fresh meats and/or fish are caught, the process needs to start all over again. Because smoking is fuel intensive, it is unlikely that there is a constant fire to which meats can c onstantly be added when these practices happen on relatively small scales. This problem of timing is absent for salting, because salt can be added continuously and is not restricted to certain specific times. As long as there is a supply of salt, freshly c aught meats and fish can be immediately cured by putting them into a container with salt. This can be done on a day to day basis and is incredibly flexible. Finally, the consumption of salt cured food items can simultaneously provide additional salt for di etary purposes. So, besides the preservative qualities of salt, salted meats, fish and/or vegetables are used as sources of dietary salt. Food preservation before the invention of the refrigerator was a serious issue. Investing energy in resources that ev entually would not last was a major concern and ways to preserve items were crucial in most economies. Especially in times of need, such as droughts, severe storms or other phenomena that can destroy harvests, preserved foods were important for survival. I n regions where ice is unavailable year round, preservation practices are limited to salting and smoking.


51 Although the uses of salt argue for a prominent place of salt as an important resource in the past, it is easy f rom a contemporary perspective to underestimate its importance Salt is cheap and available everywhere. This, as we have seen stands in sharp contrast with past conditions (Andrews 1983; Kurlansky 2003; McKillop 2002) Partially, this is a result of industria lization where mining and solar evaporation facilities are much larger and reduce relative costs. In addition, the process of globalization increased mobility of goods and people, reducing the prices of transportation. Although salt can only be mined, boil ed or harvested in very specific locations, the effort expended for transport has been reduced compared to the past. Modern exploitation of salt drives an expansion of scale that lowers price, whereas nd scarcity. The locations where salt production occurs have not changed much, but the scale and intensity have. The scale of exploitation of salt has grown dramatically and global annual production approximates 250 million metric tons. During the Civil Wa r, 3,000 workers produced approximately 225,000 tons of salt in the United States. Nowadays, 4,000 workers produce 22,500,000 tons of salt (The Salt Institute 2011) Salt was highly valued, even in the recent past. In 1782, a bushel of salt 5 in the Ohio V alley was worth $3 (Jakle 1969) When these three dollars are compared to the wages of unskilled labor at that time and unskilled labor nowadays, the total value of a (MeasuringWorth 2011) The price of one 5 1 bushel is 9.3 gallons or 35.2 L. Bushel is a measure of volume, not weight.


52 ago. 6 The high price of salt in 1782 also underlines that salt was a highly valued and scarce commodity. (Kurlansky 2 003; McKillop 2002) Control over salt was fairly easy to establish, because of the restricted number of locations and relatively low quantity of salt. These factors in combination with the high demand for salt, facilitated taxation of this resource. The construction of the Great Wall in China was largely funded by taxes on salt (Kurlansky 2003:31) Roman soldiers were paid in salt, which is the origin of the word salary Rome sometimes subsidized the price of salt, a sort of tax cut, but also raised it to increase tax income during the Punic Wars with Carthage (Kurlansky 2003:63) In France, the gabelle was a poll tax instigated by the Crown and one of the most hated laws in French history (Bitterman 2010; Kurlansky 2003) All salt was taxed equally, enfor taxed the same amount. However, nobility, religious leaders and other people of high stature received provisions. An almost constant state of war existed between the gabelous the collectors of the gabelle and t he faux sauniers, smugglers of salt. One of the first actions of the new Assembly after the French revolution was repealing the gabelle (Kurlansky 2003:234) underlining how much the salt tax was a symbol of the power of the established elite. Examples of salt producing economies are vast and illustrate its importance. In 1603 and 1605, salt production in Yucatan, Mexico, exceeded 17,000 metric tons (Andrews 1983:135 137) Andrews (1983:135) states that these number s are conservative and only represented a few large salinas in the region, while other 6 This is calculated assuming one bushel is approximately 50 lbs, and 1 lb of salt costs $0.61. A 26 oz. pack of Morton Salt sells for $0.99.


53 numbers relating to the maximum potential of these salt flats are much higher. Although a demand for salt significantly increased by the early 1600s because of the silver mines, this was partially met by increas ed production on the mainland and the pacific coast of Mexico (see Ewald 1985) On Puerto Rico, the chief ( cacique ) of San German, Agueybana, traded 729 fanegas of salt with the Spanish between 1516 and 1520. Following Andrews (1983:135) a conservative est imate would lead to a total of almost 84,000 kg of salt from one location within four years. This is a yearly production of over 20,000 kg, which must have been a significant part of the economy in southwestern Puerto Rico. This is significant, especially because this island is not particularly known for its salt production. The Dutch, lacking a climate conducive to solar evaporation in Europe, targeted specific islands in the Caribbean region to produce salt, such as Aruba, Curacao, Bonaire, St. Eustatius and St. Maarten, but also le de la Tortue and Tobago Bermudians traveled over 1,300 km by sea twice a year to Grand Turk and Salt Cay for salt. During six months, Bermudians raked and harvested salt, while in the winter they would sell the salt to Europe an ships that were travelling to the United States. There, the salt was mainly used for salting cod. Rumors still persist on Salt Cay that George Washington personally ordered Turks & Caicos salt for his army. If this rumor is true or not remains to be see n, but his revolutionary army did acquire Turks & Caicos salt, despite the fact that these islands were still part of the British crown. Furthermore, during the Civil War in the United States, the northern troops sailed around Florida to attack the salt wo rks in the Gulf of Mexico, in order to deprive the Confederacy of a source of salt, which was needed to preserve foods for the army (Kurlansky 2003) The Muisca of Colombia produced salt from brine wells and exported


54 salt bricks beyond their territory (Kur ella 1998; Pea 2008) The presence of coal mines for fuel decreased the costs for boiling, thereby increasing profits from salt. All these cases show that salt was of major importance throughout the circum Caribbean region and that local economies were he avily focused upon its exploitation. 2.7 Archaeology and Salt The limited availability and high price of salt in the past provided a strong motivation for production of this resource in places where environmental conditions were favorable. When investigat ions concern regions where natural production is possible, this must to be taken into account. Salt might be absent in the archaeological record, making its existence invisible, but practices involved in the exploitation do leave traces. Regardless of the extraction process, the exploitation of salt is often managed and/or manipulated by humans to increase production by speeding up the process of evaporation. Boiling and construction of salt pans are expected in locations that favor salt production. Even wi thout detailed information on the exact uses of salt in prehistoric communities, material evidence demonstrates that people were invested in its Belize (McKillop 1995, 200 2, 2010; McKillop and Sabloff 2005) and the solar evaporation works on the northern coast of Yucatan (Andrews 1983; Andrews and Mock 2002) materialize the value of salt in Mayan economies. Although each region produces a different salt, Yucatecan salt is s olar evaporated and Belizean salt, known as sal cocida is boiled, the fact that both regions were primarily concerned with its exploitation demonstrates that salt was an important commodity in the Maya region. It also shows


55 that places where salt can be p rocured are fully exploited, implying that salt was utilized in large quantities in the region. Most archaeological research focuses on the production part of the process, rather than on the uses of salt. Partially, this can be ascribed to the invisibility of salt, which disappears when consumption takes place. On the other hand, archaeological case studies center on artifacts rather than actual practices, privileging the materials used during the production process rather than the product and its functions It is often assumed that people used it for consumption, either as an additive for taste or as a byproduct of preservation. Other uses of salt are only sporadically mentioned and differentiation between byproduct or taste enhancer is rarely explicated. T his tendency in archaeology can be ascribed to an artifact centered approach. Discussions mainly address the objects involved in the production process, but shy away from possible uses. This artifact oriented approach is often guided by the underlying assu mption that archaeology should be restricted to studies of material related practices. Implicitly, archaeological studies of salt restrict themselves to the production processes for which there are artifact s and overlook the actual distribution and consumption. Although people obviously engage in production practices to ultimately use salt, the important reasons why people produce this resource are mostly neglected. Issues of consumption and preservation are neglected, because of a lack of archaeological visibility. Explanations of the importance of salt are therefore restricted to these material qualities. 2.8 Conclusion Th is chapter argued for the importance and value of salt in the (rece nt) past. Salt was clearly a sought after commodity with a high price, sometimes artificial ly raised


56 though taxes Our contemporary bias obscures its significance in past societies, but these examples show the enormous possibilities for an archaeological focus on salt Acro ss time and space beyond the recent past, salt was of value. Especially in regions where environmental conditions are favorable for the production of salt, this resource se examples from the past emphasize that this resource had a profound impact on (pre)historic economies. The importance of the required quantities of salt needed in tropical environments and prices of salt in the late 18 th century demonstrate that people r eally needed salt and were willing to pay a high price for it. The potential for profit was high, especially when a salt resource could be controlled. Furthermore, the required quantities of the Maya lowland, estimated at 8,000 kg per day underline that t hese demands are not easily met without some large scale economic exploitation. The quantities required for the dietary needs of humans to maintain appropriate sodium and chloride concentration in the body necessitates an elaborate network of supply, trans portation and distribution. Given the above amounts required, it is very unlikely that every family would traverse large distances to independently provide enough salt for their needs. However, a relationist practice oriented approach must incorporate pra ctices of consumption and distribution. This study cannot restrict itself to production processes to achieve a holistic perspective on salt. The archaeological focus on artifacts has to be abandoned and attention must to be directed to questions of why peo ple actually produce this resource. Indeed, people require salt and salt can also overcome issues of preservation, but this does not explain why salt is so valuable and often related to


57 power. A holistic perspective must involve the investigation of practi ces how people utilized this resource after production.


58 CHAPTER 3 THE SOCIALITY OF SAL T This chapter explains how salt facilitates the transformation of material wealth and food production into social status and power differentiation. The previous chapte r provided a material basis for a discussion on the nutritional importance of salt in the past. H owever, a holistic perspective must move beyond these material facts and integrate how salt is used within a social context. The sociality of salt focuses on t he especially when food is preserved; perishable foods suddenly become durable edibles. The power of salt is strongly related to this change in the material world and it s social consequences. Produce exchange and the creation of debts are central processes in this argument. This chapte r argues that qualities to produce social inequality. Ethnographic and archaeological examples show a close relationship between salt, power, social complexity and inequality (Andrews 1983; Andrews and Mock 2002; Brown 1999; Ewald 1985; Flad 2005; Flad and Hruby 2007; Godelier 1971; Kennedy 2007; Kepecs 2004; Kurlansky 2003; McKillop 1995, 2002, 201 0; McKillop and Sabloff 2005; Muller 1984, 1987; Parsons 2001; Williams 2002) This resource is a gateway to power in many disconnected societies. Elites often controlled salt and it was consciously perceived as a source of social wealth. The consistency o f this relation between salt and social inequality across different cultures suggests that basic material qualities of salt induce differentiation of power. Most arguments, therefore, simply to preserve food items with foundations of social inequality.


59 The nutritional argument corresponds with other anthropological literature on social inequality and complexity, which recognizes food surplus production as the primary basic requirement. Social complexity increases the percentage of non producers in a society, requiring an intensification of food production. The loss of labor to non producing institutions is corrected by intensification and overproduction by producing institutions. Mass produced staples provide a surplus and provide the financial basis for complex forms of social organization (D'Altroy and Earle 1985) In short, overproduction of certain scarce resources is needed to nourish elites that do not produce food themselves. Both salt a nd surplus production fit this scenario, i.e. that control over salt or surplus production functions as a vehicle to control people and gain social status. However, there is a fundamental difference between salt and surplus production that cannot explain w hy these goods establish social inequality on nutritional grounds alone. Whereas the importance of salt is based on its limited availability, surplus production, by definition, implies abundance. Where a lack and structural nutritional need for salt induce s power, surplus production establishes inequality through excessive amounts of available nutrients. In this argument, both scarcity and abundance are perceived as essential qualities, but it fails to demonstrate how these differences in quantities correla te with power. This difference in quantities between salt and surplus suggests that another common quality is important in the transformation from material to social wealth. Salt and surplus are both edibles and the use of these resources always involve s ome acts of consumption. Recognizing the importance of consumption practices is the


60 first step to move away from material qualities that induce power to a practice oriented approach that emphasizes the ways people use material wealth as a structural elemen t in this transformational process. Consumption is needed to meet nutritional requirements, but the way people meet these requirements is an inherently social practice. People with different backgrounds and cultures eat differently. Although a nutritional argument underlines the importance of day to day production and consumption and how food drives higher forms of complexity which are aspects that are underlined by a practice oriented approach, social aspects of food consumption are neglected and summariz ed as a mere biological process to absorb nutrients. But food is so much more than nutritional values alone and it creates forms of social identity and relations among people. Still, the importance of the sociality of consumption leaves the mechanism of h ow nutrients translate into power totally unexplained. At some point, nutritional values are transformed into social status. Consumption, in isolation of other practices, does not (1977, 1986) concept o f value transformation guides the discussion. Although her case study specifically focuses on Gawa, an island in the Massim region, Munn (1977, 1986) explains how processes of exchange are social mechanisms to transform and alter values of products into so cial relations. As part of the kula ring, exchange of valuables is obviously important, but she also emphasizes the importance of food within this process. Food exchange forms the ultimate foundation on which kula exchanges are built. This idea of the cent ral role of food exchange in the transformation of material to social values is transposable into other contexts and not restricted to the island of Gawa alone.


61 This chapter discusses the transformational process in four steps. First, the physicality of sa ways than consumption alone. The social consequences of these material qualities of salt are important for the transformational processes. Second, attention is directed to food as an in herently social phenomenon. As salt is a consumable and a food, the material qualities. Third, exchange is discussed and how these practices transform material wealth in to social status. Finally, discussion of food and exchange is reverted back to the materiality of salt and how this resource facilitates the transformation of value. This original practice oriented approach to salt explains how strong correlations between salt and power emerge in so many different spatially and temporally disconnected situations. 3.1 Salt from food to positions of social inequality. Nutritional requirements for salt force an economic focus on this resource, while the preservative qualities affect the materiality of food. The social significance of salt emerges out of the physical qualities and how this product is concomitantly utilized. Salt related practice s are as meaningful as the qualities specific to this product. The consequences of the material characteristics and how salt is employed both require explanation to understand how this resource affects local economies. Eight consequences of salt are discus sed now. First, a nutritional need for salt induces a social need. In locations where sources of salt are lacking, such as tropical lowlands and other locations far removed from the sea, the exchange of salt requires a vast network of transportation and di stribution. In


62 situations where one million people in a tropical environment have no access to salt, as mentioned in the previous chapter, 8,000 kg of salt have to be imported on a yearly basis. There is a structural need for exchange in these circumstance s, but these structural needs have simultaneously a social component. In the presence of a market economy, taxes on salt, such as the French Gabelle and the Chinese example of the Great Wall (Kurlansky 2003) are social statements of donor receiver contrac ts and impact spheres of social relations beyond mere economic terms. In the absence of a market economy, the exploiter and distributer of salt will establish personal relationships with the receiver. The nutritional requirement for salt transforms into a social requirement of exchange and interaction and mandates a network of social relations. The impression that salt leaves on an economy creeps into social spheres and its exchange is neither wholly economic nor social, but both. Second, the preservative q ualities of salt strongly influence the methods and pattern of exchange. Salt increases the potential to exchange food resources over long distances. Without preservation, specifically in hot and humid environments, long distance exchange of food resources is difficult. Food items that are preserved can be transported for longer periods of time without loss of value, allowing for an increased distance between place of origin and place of exchange and consumption. Spatial scales of exchange are expanded and salt provides the opportunity to enlarge an existing exchange network. Third, risks involved in the exchange of perishable foods are significantly reduced. The ability to modify food and preserve it for longer periods prevents foods from being lost. Salt m oderates these risks and guarantees that food resources can be used before


63 decay sets in. Products that have high potential to decay are unlikely to be exchanged because of the risk involved, but salt mediates these risks and opens up possibilities for exc hange. The role of food items in larger spheres of exchange and value transformation increases significantly through salt. Fourth, the risk of long distance voyages decreases as well. Preserved foods can be utilized for nutritional purposes during voyages that they last multiple days. When new resources are absent or difficult to exploit during these voyages, preserved foods are a solution. Additionally, food procurement strategies may delay the trip and lower its efficiency. Access to salted foods stimulat es the exchange over large distances and results in decreased social distances. The physical distance remains the same, but the availability of preserved foods diminishes the risks and raises the efficiency of these exchange voyages, lowering perceived bou ndaries that inhibit contact. Fifth, salt facilitates accumulation of food products. In the case of perishable materials, decay prevents accumulation and foods vanish before they can be used. Salted foods can be preserved and overproduction can be stored. Without a preservative, the process of decay dictates subsequent distribution and consumption practices. Freshly caught or harvested foods need to be immediately moved to their final destination to ensure consumption before the item is lost. Accumulation i s not ability to preserve food also allows foods to be stored and accumulated for times of need. Sixth, seasonal shifts can be negotiated by salt, as periods that impos e a shortage on populations are potentially balanced by over exploitation of resources at other times.


64 Without a preservative, year round settlements cannot be maintained in places with seasonal shortages, even when other seasons are characterized by incre dible surpluses of certain foods. Seasonal shortages necessitate the mobility of people and because of this need, increase the costs of the exploitation when seasonal surpluses do occur. The ability of salt to preserve food makes it possible to store surpl us that can be used later during seasonal shortages and, consequently, reduces the costs of seasonal exploitation. Seventh, the availability of salt increases efficiency in production. In situations where production is limited by decay rather than availabl e labor, foods are left unexploited. Overproduced food items are lost because people are unable to consume them before the food decays. The rotting process dictates rates of production. With salt, labor can be fully exploited and overproduced foods are pre served and employed at later times. In the Caribbean region, for example, there is no incentive to capture more than a seven day fish supply in any one trip without access to a preservative, because all of the extra labor invested in fishing is lost as soo n as the fish becomes inedible. With access to salt, the cost benefit ratio increases and more production is possible in shorter periods of time and with less input of labor. Finally, salt allows an economy to shift its focus from food procurement to othe r practices. Accumulated salted foods can be consumed on days, weeks or even months that people are not working to get their meal together. In a situation lacking a preservative, this sort of specialization beyond food production is difficult to maintain. Having to work constantly for sufficient amounts of food restricts available labor and time. Efficiency is increased, because more resources can be exploited in a shorter


65 period of time and still be used. Previously, the extra time of exploitation would be lost as soon as the food would perish and labor was needed again to overcome this loss. These eight consequences of material qualities of salt and salted foods indicate that this resource completely changes the way people can do things. Previously impossi ble practices enter the realm of possibility. The physicality of salt has important social consequences. In order to explore these social consequences in more detail, as discussed above, the social context of food and exchange both need to be explored furt her. 3.2 Food Food is not food until it is eaten. Preferences for certain foods, situations where food is expected and/or required, the way food is eaten and with whom food is shared are all facets of food consumption that are incredibly important for the social significance of food (DeBoer 2001; Eves 1996; Hamilakis 1999; Holtzman 2006; Mintz and Du Bois 2002) Through consumption, food is experienced. These experiential qualities of food are specifically important for salt, as salt is one of the four basi c tastes that our palate can differentiate. Salt adds flavor to food and simultaneously serves people experience salt through their senses. Biological and material factor s play a role, but the consumption of salt or salted foods is a very specific social experience. Culturally specific food preferences depend more on social needs than mere nutritional requirements. Smith (2006:480) argues that staple crops for example, a re selected in relation to their ease of harvest, ease of preparation, taste and value. Domesticated food crops show signs of changed morphology and include decreased bitterness and the removal of toxins in root crops, vegetables and fruits, underlining th e


66 social dimension of food crop decisions (Fuller 2002 in Smith 2006:481) People deci de among a variety of alternatives for staples, which implies that these crops have important social aspects that are often disregarded. Because staples are incredibly va ried and widely available in our contemporary diet (rice, potatoes, wheat etc.), societies that pr oduce and consume only one staple may seem restrictive. Restrictions in food choice might lead to the assumption that people are struggling to make a living a nd emphasis is placed on nutritional aspects of food However, these people do not decide to base their economy on a restrictive number of staples to maintain sufficient nutrients Rather, the se choices are based on options in production, preparation and c onsumption of these specific cultigens (Smith 2006:480) Food also serves as a basis for social relations (Hamilakis 1999; Holtzman 2006; Mintz and Du Bois 2002) Food establishes and strengthens social bonds between individuals and/or groups and sharing m eals is a universal way to establish friendships and relationships of trust (DeBoer 2001; Eves 1996; Hamilakis 1999; Holtzman 2006; Mans 2011; Mintz and Du Bois 2002) Individuals seldom produce all the food they consume, necessitating some form of exchang e and sharing. Furthermore, a division of labor in the production and preparation of foods induces a need to share within households (multiple contributions in Collier and Yanagisako 1987) Food exchange is fundamental to social relations in all human soc ieties. One of the reasons why food has such a prominent role in societies is its repetitive character, as food is consumed on a daily basis. Production, preparation and consumption create daily routines that inform many activities that take place on a reg ular basis. Theoretical frameworks followed in this study, such as practice theory


67 (Bourdieu 1977, 1990) and structuration theory (Giddens 1984) emphasize the importance of daily activities for social structure. Repetitive practices form and structure soc ial perceptions and attitudes, operating as guidelines for social interaction. Daily routines involved in the production, preparation and consumption of food are incredibly powerful practices that can generate these cultural dispositions that structure soc ial life. The repetitive character of food consumption is a potential medium through which social relations can be manipulated or strengthened, especially because the repetitive character of food consumption can become unquestioned and routinized. Through a process of repetition of daily routines, certain social relations become (Connerton 1989; Morsink in press b; Van Dyke and Alcock 2003) Once ingrained, social memory is constantly evoked through the consumption of foo d and concomitant activation of the senses (Eves 1996; Hamilakis 1999; Holtzman 2006) Holtzman (2006) stresses the structured character of food preparation, distribution and consumption that recall memories of similar past activities, including ideas of g ender differences and divisions of labor. Especially at large communal gatherings, feasts and rituals, food consumption is a powerful tool to strengthen or manipulate social relations (Eves 1996; Hamilakis 1999; Holtzman 2006) Food oriented practices ulti mately result in consumption, a sensuous bodily practice, and provide an excellent avenue to negotiate social structures. Through the senses, including vision and smell, food is experienced and this sensuousness of food evokes reactions (Eves 1996; Hamilak is 1999; Holtzman 2006) Hamilakis (1999) states that the repetitive, sensuous and bodily qualities of food consumption serve extremely well for the generation, maintenance, legitimation and deconstruction of authority and


68 power. People recall and stimulat e values and meanings of food on a daily basis, which concomitantly inform and strengthen future perceptions. Strong repetitive bodily experiences induce a prominent and pervasive social significance to food. Food, therefore, serves as an excellent vehicle of social identity. Consumption of similar foods creates a social bond of relatedness. Furthermore, food structures practices beyond immediate consumption and choices in staples generates similar agricultural cycles, including garden preparation, planting and harvest seasons across large regions. Identical yearly patterns of consumption and production practices embody shared social identity and foods create social cohesion (Holtzman 2006) For example, differentiation between elite and non elite diets with in one social context is another way to structure social identities through food. Certain foods are only accessible to elites and cannot be afforded or procured by non elites, making the act of consumption itself a dentity (Deagan 2004; deFrance in press) Indeed, what you eat is who you are. As one of the four basic tastes in the human palate, salt is extremely suited for structuring practices and social memory. The consumption of salt, especially in a situation whe re salt is scarce, invokes a strong sensuous experience. People recognize when salt is added to their food and become aware of its presence. Its unique and pleasant taste communicates social connotations through consumption. Salt not only enhances the tast e of food, it enhances strategies to form and manipulate social relationships. It works as a social enzyme, as its specific material qualities catalyze the transformation from nutrition to social relations. Social facets of food consumption, therefore, cor respond to aspects of salt consumption.


69 3.3 Physicality of Food and Future oriented Practices As discussed above, foodways fulfill both nutritional and social needs. Choices that are made in consumption practices are critical to questions of power, identit y and status. Consequently, archaeological research concerning food should focus on the social consequences of how food is used, rather than restrictive perspectives on what is consumed. The meaning food has in a specific cultural context depends on people intentions and how food satisfies certain needs. Despite the fact that archaeologists often acknowledge the social realm of food, the perceived lack of material correlates of social intentions is often presented as the reason why detailed investigations into these questions for past peoples are limited. However, the material evidence is not lacking, it just needs to be recognized. The physicality of food items is the material correlate and evidence for the intentions of past peoples. Different foods hav e different material qualities and which foods are consumed reflect which qualities people chose and preferred. Taste, size, production processes and durability are all factors that differentiate foods. From a whole gamut of possibilities, horticultural an d agricultural societies choose and grow very specific products. Reoccurring choices for certain qualities are likely intentional and conscious, providing a point of entry into underlying cultural preferences. A reduction in food diversity is a deliberate result from selective processes that are aimed to satisfy nutritional and social needs. Ethnic foods are the result of prolonged practices of explicit decisions from a wide variety of options and these foods materialize immaterial social considerations. Ma terial qualities of certain foods are the material evidence that archaeologists need to recognize.


70 A direct consequence of this perspective is that food production is based on the ways the producer intends to employ the food. The production processes are d irectly related to the practices people employ and certain foods are specifically selected to satisfy these future needs. This will dictate which food is appropriate and its production processes. Although practices of production and consumption are disconn ected in time, and often considered separately in archaeological analysis, they are strongly related by their shared underlying motives. Practices of production and consumption have linked temporalities and are synchronized to each other. Decisions are not made in isolation of other practices and it is crucial to understand the connection between production and consumption to comprehend how food is utilized to suffice social needs. This relational network of different practices, or taskscape (Ingold 1993) emphasizes a future oriented perspective of people. Engaging in activities, individuals always consider how their actions will affect the future. Practices in the present are based on the past, but oriented towards the future. Decisions based on immediate circumstances have (un)anticipated long term consequences and agents consciously engage in practices to improve their social position in respect to these prospective circumstances. Different temporal spheres are connected and people consciously try to mani pulate social relations in the present in anticipation of the future. People live intellectually more in the future than the physical present. This also entails that present activities only make sense in reference to future circumstances of social interact ion. This future oriented perspective of people is specifically visible in food related practices. Food is a negotiator of social bonds and status, and practices involved in its production are focused on the future employment of food to manipulate existing social


71 bonds. Certain edibles are consciously selected because they facilitate the negotiation of existing social relations. Selected foods are materializations of intentions and time and labor are allocated toward the production of very specific resource s. Unselected resources will have qualities that are perceived as having less or no relevance toward certain future objectives. A consideration of which resources are selected and which are disregarded illuminates the qualities that pertain to future inten tions and the social needs that people aim to meet. Yam in Melanesia is an excellent example of how material qualities are important for future oriented practices. Yam is the staple root crop in a large part of Papua New Guinea and Melanesia. From a nutrit ional perspective, yams are excellent staples because of their high caloric values and a lack of proteins can be easily compensated for by adding meat to the diet. On caloric values alone, yam is a good choice. However, other crops that could also be used for calories, such as taro, are much less abundant. Weiner (1976) explicitly states that people of the Massim region choose yams because they can be stored for a maximum of six months. Taro can only be preserved for a couple of weeks after harvest and is t herefore produced in significantly lower quantities. Preservation, as a material quality and a biological process, is the material quality selected for in this case study. People actively manipulate material qualities of crops to extend preservation. Peopl e intentionally garden, plant, harvest and store foods at very specific times of the year to maximize preservation. Crops are planted in a specific season and gardens are maintained to ensure the quality of the product. Factors that can ruin crops, such as excessive rainfall or pests, decide times of harvest. People tend to control ripening


72 processes of fruits to protect them from hazards and decay and in the case of Melanesia, yam storage facilities are relatively dry and cool to prolong preservation. Gard ens are constantly monitored and require a significant amount of labor investment to maximize their production (Malinowski 1935) Preservation is a social process, a material quality that is produced through interaction with people. People have to actively engage with food products to prevent products from decay. In the case of Melanesia, the choice for yams is based on future oriented display of yams in yam storage houses. Melanesian yam storage houses are elaborate structures and are built throughout the region to expose and display wealth. A full storage house is a material manifestation of the success of its owners, as it physically communicates and references the productivity and fertility of the owning group. A full yam house is a symbol of social stat us and identity. As such, the choice of yams is not established on nutritional qualities. The ability to store and display yams for long periods of time enables Massim people to convey and communicate their power in more successful ways. The nutritional an d economic values of yams are not unimportant, but the material quality that yams preserve can function as an index of wealth and success, which dominates as the crucial factor for the decision making process regarding which crop to grow. Moreover, there i s a differentiation in uses between different sorts of yams and not all are employed in one homogeneous social arena. Large yams are exclusively shared and exchanged with outsiders, while smaller or partially damaged ones are consumed within the group (Mal inowski 1922, 1935; Munn 1977, 1986, 1990; Strathern 1988; Weiner 1976, 1992) Despite the fact that l arger yams are often more fibrous, less


73 sweet and require more processing, the use of these yams is not focused on consumption. But l arger yams are diffic ult to grow and their production requires a lot of labor. Smaller or damaged yams are much easier to grow. These larger yams, therefore, are materializations of labor, attention, dedication, fertility and productivity. The physical properties of the yam re flect and symbolize the social values of its owner. These processes and decisions in production and exchange are not part of some explicitly follow these structures of f ood related practices. These practices are discursive and openly negotiated, underlining how deliberately people use food to communicate their social position. All major anthropological works from the region describe how much effort, time and labor are dir ected to gardening (Malinowski 1935; Munn 1986; Strathern 1988; Weiner 1976) These efforts have little to do with maintaining sufficient caloric intake to survive, but are totally focused on how food can be employed in the future to establish new social r elations and promote social identities of the producers of these goods. An economic emphasis on foods that preserve over long periods of time primarily depends on social factors. The objective of Massim people is the production of large yams that can be us ed for display and exchange, rather than just quantity in general for household use (Munn 1986; Weiner 1992) The giver of a gift uses the material object to communicate a certain quality to the receiver. The product yam is better at conveying a message of fertility and productivity than yam as a food and, for these reasons, carefully selected by the giver. Before food is gifted, time and effort are often directed in the quality and presentation of the food, visualizing and materializing the diligence and


74 e fforts. People actively select specific objects for exchange and are very conscious of what they give, to whom they give it and how they give it. This example underscores that the physicality of food demands anthropological consideration. The material qual ities of food are important in respect to their ability to negotiate social relations. Durability, as a material characteristic of certain foods facilitates exchange and gift giving practices for two reasons. First, accumulation is not possible when food items immediately perish. Communal display is impossible and most foods decay before use. Second, food that is an index of success and wealth displays this message as long as it is present. The longer it last s the longer the message is communicated. These advantages for exchange practices of food items that preserve are applicable in situations outside the Massim region. Food exchange functions as a social cohesive throughout the world and in many social contexts preservation of food is an issue. Also outs ide the Massim region, f uture oriented practice s of food production are focused on exchange of food. Production of food is better appreciated within a framework where exchange and social relations are foregrounded, rather than in a mere economic and calori c paradigm void of these social imperatives. Food re sources that are consciously selected for their ability to preserve must be considered through a paradigm of social relations and gift giving. 3.4 The Gift of Food In a situation of exchange, food is a g ift rather than a consumption item. Food is given away as an object and its production is never intended to meet nutritional needs. The production of food for local needs is a by product that is easily met Certain crops, such as the yams in Melanesia, are purposefully grown to be given away. From an


75 exchange perspective, all efforts that are directed toward the production of larger yams become clear. Massim people invest incredible amounts of energy in the production process of large yams, while larger yam s are less sweet and processing takes more time (Malinowski 1935) But nutritional aspects are, for the Massim, totally irrelevant and yams are intended for exchange. Yams symbolically communicate the values of the producer. However, Malinowski (1922, 1935 ) Weiner (1976, 1992) and Munn (1977, 1986) all assume that the production of edible products implies that these products are eaten. Although the items might have indeed been consumed at a later stage, their production process was not intended with this i n mind. Although these scholars recognize that these items are gifted, they do not establish a distinction between foods produced for exchange those produced for consumption. A practice oriented approach specifically emphasizes the uses of products and int entions of people. If exchange and consumption are two different intentions, then these need to be divided. Therefore, a conceptual separation must be made between food and produce. Produce denotes the raw material, while food is processed and ready for co nsumption. This division between food and produce is crucial in understanding the Melanesian gift of yams, as yams are exchanged as produce and not as food. The size of the raw product communicates values of fertility and productivity in the yam storage ho uses and exchange, but processed yams that are cooked and served as food lose their physical appearance. The loss of physical appearance coincides with a loss of ability to communicate a message of fertility and productivity. Without the physicality of the raw


76 receiver cannot know whether the donor is a good farmer or produced small damaged yams and processed these into the food. In order to physically display fertility a nd productivity, the raw material is indispensable. Surplus is, in this situation, an incorrect term. Surplus means that it is essentially overproduced and considered something extra, without immediate requirements. However, if edibles are grown and harves ted as produce, these items are not extra nor are they overproduced. These objects are consciously and intentionally grown for display and exchange, not for consumption. Although these objects are eventually consumed by their receivers, their primary purpo se is to exchange and communicate messages about their donors. Because people can always engage in more exchange relations, produce is never in surplus. Fulfillment of nutritional requirements is a welcome byproduct of the original intention of producing g ifts. Why so much attention is given to gift giving depends on the social significance of exchange. Exchange follows a very strict pattern, as described by Marcel Mauss (1990) in his seminal essay. An object is given to a partner and the receiver is oblige d to accept the gift and reciprocate in the future. The obligation to give and receive emanates from the social relation an exchange establishes or (re )signifies. To refuse to give is to deny the social relationship between the giver and receiver. The obl igation to establish or maintain a social relation and immediately increase tensions between giver and intended receiver. After the gift is accepted, another item needs to be reciprocated. In comparison to the future oriented approach to the production of food, the exchange of objects is future oriented in relation to the return gift.


77 Gift exchange causes debts between donor and recipient, creating an imbalanced relatio n of power (Peebles 2010; Schwartz 1967) Return gifts, especially in delayed reciprocity, are reciprocated with interest (Mauss 1990:18) These return gifts are anticipated and the original gift is given with the expectation of this interest. The original giver not only engages in the gift to establish a social bond between him/her and the receiver, but also expects interest that subsequently can be employed in other situations. Through the gift, the donor establishes a moral obligation with the receiver t hat can only be compensated through a gift with interest. Through giving, the donor indebts the receiver who is impelled to overcome the established imbalance (Komter and Vollebergh 1997; Peebles 2010) The creation of a contractual debt is the underlying basis for gift giving (Boas 1966:77 in Hayden 1995:52; Mauss 1990; Schwartz 1967) Tension and negotiation are inextricably connected to practices of gift giving (Godelier 1999; Komter and Vollebergh 1997; Komter 1996; Lvi Strauss 1969; Mauss 1990; Mol 20 07, 2010; Schwartz 1967; Strathern 1988; Weiner 1992) Participants in an exchange are aware of these contractual debts and both agents constantly negotiate their social position. The donor must make a decision as to which available products are gifted and to whom. Donors want to engage in as many exchange relations as possible, maintaining large social networks and gaining access to many resources. interest to the rece iver and the quality of the gift determines the social relation between the two. A donor has a difficult job, as (s)he must determine how small the gift can be that can still convey a message of respect to the receiver.


78 Although gift giving seems to have a n altruistic basis, the tension and negotiation that is often observed during these practices cross culturally are almost characteristic of barter. Prices and exchanged products are the subject of continuous negotiations between donor and receiver and all but mindlessly gifted. Because gift exchange is such a powerful tool to acknowledge and form social relationships, a failure to conclude an exchange directly implies a failure to create a social bond. If gift giving can avoid tension and aggression by esta blishing social obligations, an inadequate gift or inability to repay interest induces social distress and physical violence (MacIntyre 1983; Malinowski 1935; Mauss 1990; Mol 2007) Peace and conflict are social opposites and are both determined through ex change. 1 An imbalance of gift exchange is favored, because the presence of debt means peace. This is one of the reasons why return gifts are often overcompensation. A return gift that equals the original gift potentially terminates the exchange relation an d disrupts the need for a subsequent return gift. Absence of debt discontinues the exchange relation and permits hostile sentiments to arise. Furthermore, the moment of the return gift is an appropriate venue for the original receiver to establish a debt w ith his exchange partner and reverse the relationship. The original receiver was indebted 1 Among the islanders of Tubetube, in the Massim region, the relationship bet ween war and exchange was, in the 19 th century, structurally present and kune or kula exchange went together with war (MacIntyre 1983 : 11) Tub etube is small and has no fertile lands which cannot explain Tubetube central place in the kula exchange network A high peak on the island provides a wide vista that includes all surrounding islands, which allows islanders to spot possible visitors from afar. Other islands lack this defensive advantage and Tubetube islanders often initiate war from small uninhabit e d islands near other villages. Tubetube islanders gained their position within the kula or kune exchange through force. Without war and aggressive activities toward other communities, Tubetube lacked the economic basis for surplus production and access was established through force. But the nature and practices involved in these two different types of contact are, for Tubetube Islanders, very similar. During trade or war, the goal is to obtain valuable s, either as objects or person Long distance voyages we re prepared for both warfare and exchange, as intended exchange relations could potentially change to war and war raiding voyages could change to exchange relations. The presence or absence of debt determines the exact relationship of war or exchange (MacI ntyre:22 32)


79 before the return gift, but through overcompensation the original receiver establishes a position of superiority over the original donor. The original receiver is now in a superior position in relation to the donor. Gift giving is future oriented and focused on the anticipated return gift that, through debt and interest, has a higher value than the original gift. These social dynamics of gift giving extend over many so cial fields. The sharing of produce/food and providing small amounts of labor by helping another person are daily exchanges. These exchanges reinforce or establish social bonds and are reciprocated in other situations. In contrast, formal gift exchanges oc cur at specific times and locations in a public setting. The underlying structure and dynamics of gift giving in large ceremonies is similar to quotidian exchange practices, but their dimension and magnitude is amplified. Higher valued gifts create larger debts. A public display of the exchange contributes to the debt, as other participants acknowledge and observe its creation (Dietler 2001; Dietler and Hayden 2001; Godelier 1999; Hayden 2001; Rosman and Rubel 1971; Weiner 1992) When gift giving practices are amplified, special circumstances are required to increase their potential success. The process of transformation from produce to social wealth is exchange. Exchange establishes contractual debts and creates and maintains positions of power between the donor and receiver. Sharing of produce and food are both a universal basis for many social relationships and form the foundation of many inequalities of power by indebting receivers. Through exchanges, produce and food establishes debts and positions of po wer and transforms social status. Situations where exchanges are


80 socially amplified, such as feasts, become incredibly potent events in which debts can be created and social inequality is established. 3.5 Feasts Feasts provide an appropriate context for la rge displays of contractual debts and are ideal circumstances for establishing positions of power. To understand the dynamics of future oriented practices of produce production and exchange, feasting practices have to be considered in detail. Feasts are sp ecial situations in which many items are exchanged in a public setting. Feasts occur at very specific moments and always involve the consumption and sharing of edibles (Dietler 2001; Hamilakis 1999; Hayden 2001; Rosman and Rubel 1971; Rubel and Rosman 1978 ) These highly ritualized gatherings are often held in situations when social identities and positions are changed, such as initiation rites, weddings, succession of offices and burials (Dietler and Hayden 2001:9; Rosman and Rubel 1971) Two social dimen sions are amplified during feasts, namely gift giving and positions of power. Exchange practices include the sharing and consumption of food and produce and the gift exchange of commodities and valuables. Power is negotiated as social relations between giv ers, receivers, hosts, guests and other participants of the ceremonies. Feasts are spatial and temporal concentrations of these two aspects of social relations. Power is negotiated and a large amount of attention is paid to the exchanges that occur. The ac t of accepting the gift includes the act of accepting a position of humility and obligations toward the gift giver. At future feasts, this relation is either compensated or reversed through overcompensation. The social importance of feasts has been widely recognized (Blitz 1993; Carlson 1999; DeBoer 2001; Dietler 1996, 2001; Dietler and Hayden 2001; Eves 1996;


81 Friedman and Rowlands 1978; Hayden 1995, 1996, 2001; Hendon 2003; Joyce and Henderson 2007; Pauketat et al. 2002; Rosman and Rubel 1971; Rubel and R osman 1978) Feasts are amplified events of exchange where power is created, maintained, negotiated or lost. Although the discussion here focuses on relatively short timescales, where positions of power are negotiated through exchange, from a larger diachr onic perspective feasts have the potential to objectify and structurally define differences in status. Or, as Dietler (1996:89) states: As public ritual events, in contrast to daily activity, feasts provide an arena for the highly condensed symbolic repres entation of social relations. Like all rituals, they express idealized concepts, that is the way people believe relations exist or should exist rather than how they are necessarily manifested in daily activity. However, in addition to this idealized repres entation of the social order, they also offer the potential for manipulation by individuals or groups attempting to alter or make statements about their relative position within the social order as it is perceived and presented. As such, feasts are subject to manipulation for both ideological and more immediately personal goals. (1995) argument, as he argues that specific successive feasts provide the public and communal sett ing to establish social stratification and institutionalized inequality. Adopting an evolutionary approach, Hayden (1995) asserts that certain strong interest. By working h ard in the fields and producing more than their immediate consumption, these individuals compete with each other and finance the costs of feasts. These aggrandizers employ the produced surpluses in strategic ways during these feasts to maximize profit and establish positions of power. Anticipated return gifts with interest improve the social status of the original giver. The enormous expenses that are needed for a feast provide the individual with the practical benefit of increased social status,


82 which ulti mately leads to access to women and more reproductive success (Hayden 1995, 2001) social relationships. Hayden uses an evolutionary paradigm, asserting that feasts provide b enefits for reproductive success. Feasts are episodes where display of reproductive fitness is communicated and natural selection, in the form of marriages, occurs. A number of assumptions originate from this paradigm. First and foremost, aggrandizers are disconnected from social networks and behave purely out of self benefit. This inevitably leads to the position where direct family and other related people Obviously, people ar e never isolated from social relations and this argument does not rationality and self definitions of pr acticality (Dietler and Hayden 2001:16) The underlying paradigm of evolution is also recognized in the successive stages of social inequality. For Hayden, these stages are set and societies of low social complexity and inequality will go through specific predetermined sets of intermediate phases. All societies finally arrive at a complex state with large differences in social status between individuals. This notion se lf interest, stages of social organization are universal. History is neglected and stages are predetermined and always trend toward more social complexity (see Morsink 2010 for a discussion on chiefdoms in the prehistoric Caribbean and the problematic unde rlying paradigm of social evolution) Finally, Hayden (1995:23) equates surplus to


83 power and despite his emphasis on feasting, he pays little attention to the relationship between surplus, exchange and positions of power and focuses on the valuables that a re exchanged rather than food. feasts as potential situations of social interaction and negotiatio n of power is warranted. Feasts always involve larger social gatherings and are ideal social contexts for the manipulation of social positions and identities. Feasts are held for very specific reasons and hosts want to communicate a new social relation to the attendants. Among Northwest coast societies, Rosman and Rubel (1971) found that burials of chiefs were only appropriate times of feasts when succession was possibly contested and not predetermined by kinship practices. When kinship practices unequivoca lly appointed certain successors, no open and communal communication of the new positions was necessary and feasting would not accompany the burial of the deceased chief. Yet, when kinship practices left room for negotiation, the successor needed a feast t o establish his right to the position of power. To make clear that the position of chief is not succession to the position of power. The success of the feast depends on the realization and public acceptance of the new person of power. The size of the feast is, therefore, crucial and determines its success. A host amasses as many people as possible to witness the new position of power. More eyes observing the host in t his new social position results in more mouths that communicate this new order. Attendants are vital components of a feast. Guests are invited and


84 persuaded by gifts, but in return for these gifts they accept and conform to the message that the host is try ing to communicate. For example, among the Tsimshian of the Northwest coast, guests are invited and paid during potlatch ceremonies that mark the is accepted as a legitima te heir for the position of status (Rosman and Rubel 1971) Another reason why guests are important is to ensure that gifts are eventually returned. A public display of gift exchange openly communicates the debt that is established. A receiver of a valuab le might be tempted to deny the original gift when this is not communicated in a public setting. Denying the existence of the gift only leads to loss of social status vis vis the original donor, but not to a wider public. The benefit of not returning the gift might be considered larger than reciprocating and maintaining a positive relationship with the donor. In a situation where a valuable is openly gifted, social status is not only lost with the donor but also with all the people who witnessed the event The increased risk of losing status in a larger social network works as a security deposit for the return gift, because the potential benefits of denial are significantly reduced (Godelier 1999; Mauss 1990; Munn 1986; Strathern 1988; Weiner 1976, 1992) Valuables are often described as the source from which the power of a feast emanates. The potlatch on the Northwest coast (Boas 1966; Rosman and Rubel 1971) and the kula ring (Malinowski 1922; Munn 1986; Strathern 1988; Weiner 1976, 1992) are renown ethnog raphic examples of highly elaborative feasts that involve the exchange of high prestige valuables. Although the focus of these events is indeed on the exchange of valuables, the underlying foundation of exchange relations is based


85 upon produce and food exc hange. Hayden (1995) equates surplus production and power, but his focus on the feast and concomitant exchange of valuables leads him away from his original statement that it all starts with produce. The highly elaborative structure of feasts forms a faad e and obscures the importance of produce as the foundation of power differentiation. 3.5.1 Diachronic Perspective on Feasting as a Social Strategy The emphasis on exchange of valuables as the basis of power and social inequality in societies originates fr om a synchronic perspective on specific feasting events in the ethnographic literature. The descriptions of these events, such as the famous kula or potlatch ceremonies, focus on the main ceremony in these multi day rituals which involve the exchange of va luables. For all people present, native or anthropologist, there is no doubt that all other events are only of secondary importance. Because feasting ceremonies are recognized as important social events in the negotiation and manipulation of power and prim ary attention is given to the exchange of valuables during these events, power is equated with valuables. Feasts are simultaneously characterized by exchange practices of valuables and negotiations of social inequality, inevitably leading to the assumption that inequality originates from valuables. This short term perspective fails to recognize the full extent and social significance of preparations and strategies that are involved before the exchange of valuables takes place. Two different levels of analys is must be differentiated, (1) practices involved with a particular feast and (2) practices that potentially result in a role of importance during a feast. Practices involved with a particular feast are the accumulation of food resources, sending out invit ations, building of special structures, etc. Although this level often


86 receives attention, the significance of these preparations is less explored. The immediate and explicit nature of these strategies for actual feasts is undeniable, but how these strateg ies play vital roles in the communication of power is often neglected. Without preparations, the negotiation of social inequality and the exchange of valuables will lose much of their impact and power is less efficiently communicated. In relation to food, Feasts comprise a vast array of practices that all contribute to its significance and, as a result, all these events deserve equal attention. Although this level of analysis i ncludes a larger temporal scale and incorporates a wider perspective on feasting practices, it still neglects long term practices that enable a person to be in the position of holding a feast. Not everybody can organize a feast and especially large feastin g ceremonies require years and years of preparation. The difficulty for hosts lies within access to all resources at once. Food, labor, payments and valuables are necessities that are difficult to acquire, but even more difficult to accumulate all at one p articular event. Hence, in order to understand what feasting practices entail, all practices that have the intention of gaining access to crucial resources must be considered. The temporal and spatial scales of a feasting taskscape are massive. Certain ind ividuals that want to ultimately gain a role of importance during large scale feasting events will engage in multiple practices that extend over a long period of time. To overcome problems of timing and planning for feasting events, potential hosts rely on help from others beyond the immediate kin group. The host must establish a relation with other people in which (s)he can demand favors to successfully accumulate


87 all resources at one particular time. Gift giving is the social mechanism that secures help f rom individuals outside the immediate kin group. A potential host uses gifts to indebt others who are required to return a favor at some point. By indebting a large group of people, a person establishes a position that can rely on favors from others. The bigger the favor that is needed, the larger the gift that is gifted. Through gift exchange, hosts actively change social relations with outsiders that are c apable of providing labor and resources in the future. Planning and managing of feasts, therefore, c omprise previous gift exchange in which potential hosts establish foundations for feasts. This clarifies why younger people are often incapable of functioning as hosts for large ceremonies, as they lack the time, life experience and resources to establish social networks that are needed to successfully support a big feast. A long history of relatively small scale exchanges is essential before someone can participate in or host large feasting events. The exchange of valuables is restricted to persons of high er status, who are often older, but people of lower standing intentionally maneuver themselves within a social arena to gain access to valuables. People who lack access to valuables still engage in exchanges and deliberately dedicate their resources to tra nscend the current situation. Exchange practices are similar to a career and to convince people who you are a committed exchange partner that deserves a valuable, individuals build a resume of non valuable exchange. This point, the building of a resume of non valuable exchange, brings us back to the importance of produce exchange. Sharing edibles is the foundation of many social relations and forms the backbone of any exchange of valuables. Structural long term


88 commitment to produce exchange builds social n etworks that, at a later time, can be called upon when needed. This point also emphasizes that produce is, in these circumstances, a commodity. It is exchanged for its value as an exchange item, not for its nutritional values. Produce rather than food, is utilized as a medium through which people without direct access to large exchange networks and valuables create avenues where these objects and resources might become part of their network in the future. It is the repetitive exchange of produce of relativ ely low value over extended periods that constructs the social foundations that are required in future events. Hence, time is a crucial factor in the dynamics of exchange that transform ional process is explained by Munn (1977, 1986) in detail. She describes how edibles are used and employed at different times and how this eventually results in access to kula valuables. In the first stage of exchange, produce is either used to hold a feas t to construct a canoe and pay for the labor (Munn 1986) or given to people who own a canoe to compensate for its use (Munn 1977, 1986) 2 Access to a canoe is only part of a long distance exchange. During the second stage, produce is employed to pay for la bor to man the boat and engage in a voyage. In the third stage, produce is needed to establish and/or maintain an exchange relationship with an overseas partner. Finally, after the successive employment of produce at different times and places, established long distance exchange partners provide access to kula valuables (Munn 1977) These 2 mentions that these exchanges mostly involve yams. For consistency within this Chapter, produce is used here.


89 different stages, obviously, happen with great intervals and this process describes years and years of exchange relations. Munn (1977, 1986) points to three important aspe cts of exchange in her example. First, produce is the basis for all exchanges and a requirement to transcend one exchange sphere into the other. The exchange of produce, canoes, valuables and marriage partners is ultimately connected through produce, and t hroughout the successive stages the value of produce is transformed into more desirable goods. Second, different situations of exchange, such as produce exchange between two families, are consciously manipulated to gain access to desired goods, such as can oes. The choices that are made as to who will receive which gifts are future oriented with the gifts that are reciprocated in mind. If access to a canoe is desired at some point, gifts are allocated to families that either have one or can help build one, b ut not to other families that cannot help with this effort. Finally, from a life time perspective, these different spheres of exchange are temporally connected. Access to valuables requires a long period of antecedent exchanges. The temporal connection bet ween these exchanges is part of the preparation to ultimately gain access to valuables and women. In her discussion, Munn (1977) specifically focuses on the canoe, as this is an distance travel and kula valuab les in the Massim region. But the general trend from produce to commodities to valuables can be projected beyond this ethnographic case study. It is exactly this transformational quality, through successive stages of exchange, that underlines and argues fo r the economic basis for social inequality. During a life time, members of a society will actively and consciously negotiate their position within a social network. Produce is strategically


90 employed to gain access to other commodities and valuables. Throug h time, members prioritize different exchanges and, step by step, move closer and closer to their final goal. The different temporalities and spatialities of these exchanges are all interconnected and are part of one planned program, a career that aims at hosting large feasts. 3.5.2 A Career of Produce Exchange The conceptual division between produce and food in combination with a diachronic life perspective on exchange explains how economic production translates to social inequality. Hayden (1995, 2001) D (1985) and others totally overlook these two points in discussions concerning the ways in which economic production both finances and forms the foundation of social inequality. First, food and produce are identical and edibles are just co nsidered as containers of nutrients that feed people. The exchange value of produce is completely neglected. Second, time depth of repetitive cycles of produce exchange is not acknowledged. The link between economic production and inequality is conceived a s surplus production that feeds people who are not producing food themselves. Yet, the essence of the process of transformation from economic production to (1977, 1986) argument, involves the production of produc e an exchange object that is simultaneously an edible. Continuous production of produce allows the owner to engage with more exchange partners and establish larger debts. People dedicate significant amounts of labor and time in the production of produce. Especially young adolescents are particularly interested in these


91 agents in the exchang e network that they owe you something valuable back. This approach emphasizes the importance of yearly repetition of these exchanges approach, a life time diachronic perspe ctive explains how economic production of produce eventually results in social status and inequality. During their life, members of any society go through different stages and these stages develop into each other. Synchronized with these developments, exch anges constantly and progressively provide access to higher spheres of exchange. Even in situations where social inequality is institutionalized, the position of status of an elder is based on a life time of accomplishments and exchanges. At the beginning, a person only has means to preserve food, but through strategic uses of produce, individuals open up new avenues to other materials. The ability to transform the value of edibles into more durable items, such as valuables, determines the success of an ind ividual. The reason why social status is desired is related to the benefits that emanate from it. Increased social status gives individuals privileges that others do not have. Marriage partners, as a final sphere of exchange, provide access to previously i naccessible resources. The exchange of women, as described in most anthropological work, establishes a direct link and alliance between two families and both families gain (Ensor 2011; Fox 1967; Lvi Strauss 1969; Malinowsk i 1929; Munn 1986; Murdock 1949; Rosman and Rubel 1971) Access to these resources is the privilege that people of social status have over others. Women, however, are not objects that are exchanged by males. Rather, marriages are heavily


92 negotiated and man ipulated to gain as much social status as possible for both families and by both sexes. Females have active roles in these decisions and cannot be perceived as objects void of agency that pass through the male hands that control them. Yet, there are object s and immaterial goods exchanged during these ceremonies. The alliance between two families brings along long term rights and mutual obligations. A focus on women or other objects that are exchanged limits itself to short term impacts of the wedding ceremo ny, directing attention away from the long term consequences and importance of the social bond that is forged between two families. Marriages are necessary ceremonies to establish enduring links that provide possibilities for both families to make use of e term events where objects and women are exchanged. Both families are more occupied with the consequential exchanges than the exchanges that actually occur during the event. A marriage institutes a strong basis for s hared interests, mutual concerns and (Fox 1967; Malinowski 1929; Munn 1986; Murdock 1949; Rosman and Rubel 1971) Relatives by marriage, or affines, are an important social cat egory. Helms (1998:56) exogamy. Affinal relations are bonded through marriage, but simultaneously disconnected through the rule of exogamy. Affines are the closest relatives ou tside the original kin group. Strong reciprocal relations exist between affinal groups and exchange continues after marriage, including adoption, grants of land, hospitality, aid in payments and reciprocal labor (Brown 1964:355) Helms (1998) and Rosman an d Rubel (1971) both discuss how affines play central roles in certain ceremonies, such as burials


93 and transitions of chiefly positions. Affines are, therefore, specifically chosen and the important roles affine play underline that marriages are strategies to gain access to certain resources. Affines are an important social category. The leading role of affines in certain rituals, e.g. while direct kin is mourning or labor is that someone else, outside your own kin group, needs to communicate how important your kin group is. Affines are distanced enough to play the role of outsider, while simultaneously being close enough to feel committed to the cause of the original kin group. Especially when the original kin group is of status, affines might be actually invested in their efforts as it projects back on them as well. However, this strong reciprocal relation includes strong antagonistic feelings, as affines are primary sources of labor and wealth and to maximize profit, negotiations need to take place at the cutting edge (Brown 1964; Helms 1998; Rosman and Rubel 1971) With the ultimate goal of gaining access to affinal resources, previous exchanges of produce, labor and valuables will engage and target exchange partners that help achieve this goal. People who are incapable of providing produce and gifts are unlikely perceived as potential exchange partners, because people lacking resources are probably not invested in sh aring resources. Individuals strategically employ their resources by using their produce in exchanges with specific people who, like them, produce significant quantities of quality goods. Cooperation between the two would mutually benefit both families. Fa milies are constantly in competition with each other to produce a high quality and quantity of produce to publicly display their status and ability


94 to produce, but also to negotiate which other family would be a good candidate for a marriage exchange. If q uality and quantity of produce are symbols, then labor must be the value that is communicated. Marriages and kinship relations form a structure to organize labor and create a stable foundation for cooperation. Families acquire labor through marriages. Conc omitantly, in certain situations specific marriage rules apply and families need to negotiate within certain social limits. Not every family can be considered and other social values, besides the acquisition of labor, are important as well. Hence, exchange practices are influenced by kinship practices and vice versa. Within the possibilities set within the general framework of kinship relations, people exchange with other people who they perceive as potential benefactors to their social unit. 3.6 A Feast of Salt The consequences of the material properties of salt, as described in the beginning of this chapter, clearly influence these practices of exchange, feasting and the transformation of economic wealth to social inequality. Salt transforms food into prod uce, from a consumption item to an object of material wealth. The ability to preserve edibles for longer periods of time strongly affect how people can employ this resource in a social landscape and totally changes the social context of exchange. Perishabl e and non perishable items have both different connotations and exchange, and therefore communicate different values. Salted produce conveys messages of social power more efficiently than perishable items. Items that decay must be eaten within a certain pe riod, undeniably linking the product to consumption and its nutritional values. Without consumption, the total exchange value is lost. The physical characteristics of perishable foods irrefutably


95 connect the gift with its nutritional values and consumption Harvest of perishable items is focused on consumption. Absence of consumption will either delay harvest or harvest will not take place. If items cannot be eaten, then energy investment in production and harvest are futile. In other words, a lack of consu mption leads to under exploitation of resources. However, salted foods last and resemble objects. The durable quality of salted food disconnects these edibles from consumption practices. Salt makes overproduction possible, as items are not lost and energy perishable nature of the edible. Harvest and consumption are consciously and temporally disconnected practices that have little effect on each other. Exploitation of available resources can be maximized and preser ved. The separation of exploitation or production practices from consumption changes the status from food to produce and concomitantly changes the context of exchange. Because harvest and consumption are temporally disconnected, exchange practices are not dependent upon the perishable nature of food. Exchange is not dictated by decay anymore. Furthermore, the possibility of accumulation has strong repercussions for feasting practices. Access to accumulated produce means that feasts can employ larger amounts of food and thus include more people. Stored produce can all be utilized at specific ceremonies. For an economy lacking a preservative, the display and sharing of food and produce during feasts is limited to the quantities that can be caught and/or harves ted in the period before these items start to decay. In the Caribbean, fish must be used within seven days of capture, unless there is some method of preservation (Caribbean Commission 1952) Salted goods last for years and the possibilities to


96 communicate and display wealth increase significantly. Without a preservative, methods of display are considerably limited. In addition, the taste of salt improves its communication skills, as it triggers the senses when consumed. Eves (1996) argues that memories of feasts are produced through continuous stimulation of the senses. In the case of New Ireland, Papua New Guinea, an overconsumption of food during specific feasts induces diarrhea, a heavy sensuous experience. According to Eves (1996) these strong experien ces are favored by the host, because future instances of diarrhea evoke memories of his feasts, increasing its success and effectiveness of the messages that are communicated. The taste of salt evokes memories in similar ways, especially in situations when salt is scarce. The increased flavor of the food and the taste of salt remind the consumer of the presence of salt, inducing a reminder of how the salt ended up in the food. Outside the realm of feasting, the sharing and exchange of edibles is facilitated as well. First, accumulated foods can be used in unexpected/unanticipated situations, such as sudden visits or a change in the availability of resources. Storage maintains a steady basis for these kinds of exchanges and short term shortages are less likel y to happen. Second, the increased efficiency of resource procurement strategies decreases the relative costs for persons who have access to salt, making an exchange less expensive. People and groups with access to salt have the capacity to preserve, maint ain and exchange a produce with much less difficulty than people who only have access to food resources. Access to salt, therefore, is a crucial element to negotiate and maintain positions of status within large social networks. A third possibility is that preserved foods are potentially more desirable gifts as opposed to perishable items. The non perishable


97 nature of the gift expands the possibilities for the receiver, as (s)he can continue to trade these items, store them for future occasions or consume t hem immediately. Perishable items can only be consumed immediately. This point, of course, is easily contested when projected into the past, but preserved food items also affect the decision making processes of the receivers, not only the donors. Finally, the object like nature of salted foods conveys a physical representation of the labor of the owning group. Quantities of accumulated produce are an undeniable materialization of efforts and success in production, symbolizing the labor and fertility of its owners. Display and exchange of these items communicate these values. Preserved items, as materialization of production, symbolize the efforts and energy investments of producers. Salted produce behaves in even more efficient ways than the Melanesian yams, because these edibles last much longer than six months. Salt creates objects that, through gift exchange, communicate messages of power and establish positions of social inequality. Salted fish, considered a delicacy in Ja maica and Trinidad, was originally a slave food. Cod was fished in the North Atlantic Ocean and transported into the Caribbean to feed the slaves. Salted cod was also transported back to Europe as food for the masses (Kurlansky 2003) Salt acted here as th e mediator of distance and time and the North Atlantic Ocean could never be exploited for its resources to sustain and maintain populations in Europe and the Caribbean without the preservative qualities of salt. Yet, the importance of salt extends beyond t he ability to exploit distant resources for local consumption.


98 Salted fish is simultaneously a source of protein and salt, which are both vital nutritional elements. In certain regions, proteins might not be of much importance, as meat and fish are widely available and relatively easy to preserve. Locations near the sea provide access to marine resources, while in other areas terrestrial and /or avian fauna are abundant. In other regions, such as the New Guinea highlands, large domesticated animals provide access to proteins (Rappaport 1968; Rubel and Rosman 1978) Yet, regions lacking a source of protein demand influx and exchange to overcome this problem. For example, large terrestrial fauna are absent in the Caribbean archipelago and proteins are scarc e in the interior regions of islands. Besides the possible adoption of a corn based horticultural economy (Keegan 1986) marine resources are the only available source for protein in the Caribbean region. For small islands, this does not present a large pr oblem, as marine resources are easily accessible and exploited. Yet, human populations on larger islands have a problem with respect to protein procurement, because lack of proteins in the diet poses significant health issues and exchange and distribution structures are needed to maintain an appropriate influx of fish. At the same time, regular exploitation of the sea is incredibly costly due to the large distance. Additionally, the restricted preservation of fish significantly reduces the possibilities of exchange and a constant day to day exchange is required to maintain sufficient protein levels of interior diets. The costs of such an exchange and distribution structure are incredibly high. Salted fish obviously decreases costs and facilitates the transpo rt of these materials to the interior. Salted fish can be transported in larger amounts, as items can


99 be accumulated. Also, distribution networks are easier to maintain because social distances are reduced. But the main advantage of this structure lies in of salted fish, as it transports two important nutrients for daily consumption at the same time. Especially in regions lacking both, this combination induces a powerful exchange network in which the original owner can establish many debts with potential receivers. Salt and fish both have values, but within a context where both proteins and salt are scarce, the value of salted fish is greater than the sum of its parts. The nutritional requirements create an undeniable demand and provide a solid basis for exchange. Furthermore, salted fish is a non perishable and functions more like an object symbolizing the fertility and power of its producers in exchange. An economic unification of salt and fish provides simultaneous opportunities to excha nge food resources over wider regions and communicate social status and power. Although nutritional requirements generate exchange, social needs cause an explosion of the exchanges that exaggerate these requirements. More production creates more power and people maximize their efforts for exploitation to further their position within a social network. 3.8 Conclusion In summary, gift exchange of food is better comprehended as an exchange of objects (produce) rather than edibles for consumption (food). Gift g iving is a social display and exchange of produce are primary means to establish exchange relations. More produce production leads to more exchange relations and more acts of indebting, subsequently creating social inequalities of power. Produce, as an exchange object and symbol of labor, is the primary way to negotiate social positions within a community. Produce production and exchange are fundamental for understanding th e

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100 transformational process from economic products to social wealth. Feasts are important temporal and spatial concentrations of these practices. Although exchange also takes place in more mundane, day to day settings, feasts are transformational events bro adening the social arena in which manipulation of social power occurs. The importance of salt is not directly related to the material qualities of this resource. The power of salt, recognized by many societies, emerges from the ways this resource is used b y people rather than what its physical characteristics are. Yet, material qualities of salt have very specific results, including the ability to preserve edibles and accumulate these resources. These two outcomes are socially mitigated and people have to a ctively engage with salt and other resources to ensure these consequences. However, these practices facilitate exchange and feasting practices and provide an unique opportunity to owners to negotiate their social status through acts of indebting. Owners of salt and salted fish are more successful in displaying their material wealth and establishing debts with receivers, ultimately resulting in power and social inequality. This chapter discusses how material qualities of salt affect consumption practices. Pe ople adapt their practices and employ the material qualities in very specific ways that allow them to communicate their position of power and status more efficiently. This is only half of the story. The material qualities of salt have also very specific re percussions on the processes of production. This is the subject of the next chapter.

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101 CHAPTER 4 THE SOCIALITY OF PRODUCT ION Because of qualities of salt described in the previous chapter, a ccess and control over salt is a source of potential power. A holis tic appr oach to salt, therefore, must incorporate t he sociality of production. Material qualities impose certain restrictions on the production practices and form the basis of the argument. However, production is a social phenomenon that is guided, but not determined, by these material qualities. The ability to establish exclusive access to salt sources implies ownership and social tension between owners and non owners. The need to maintain control also forces a gender specific change in the organization of labor. Additionally, the seasonal quality of salt forces a focus on extraction practices when salt is available, but also requires a change of pra ctices in parts of the year when salt is unavailable. Although these aspects of production are difficult to e stablish in an archaeological setting, these points demand attention in order to explore the full gamut of practic es involved with this resource. Bodies of power have consciously tried to control access to and production of salt. The Roman Empire deliberat e ly expanded their empire in certain directions to include more salt works, such as Ostia and Parma, but also Celtic, Greek, North African and Black Sea salt works (Kurlansky 2003:63 64) at deconstructing the exclu sive rights of the British reign to salt works. In the Yucatan, Maya people built cities like Xcambo in the middle of a salt marsh, establishing a seat of power in a less than optimal setting for a settlement. During the U.S. Civil War, the Confederacy was salt works along the Georgia and Florida coast s and diminish their supply (Kurlansky 2003:274 275)

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102 These examples show that people in different contexts were very aware that access to salt was crucial organized societies is that salt was needed to accumulate food resources to feed an army away from home. Furthermore, their absence meant a lack of male labor at home, possibly causing a deficit in produ ction while the war continued. To keep supplies at the levels required to sustain a large population, overproduction and storage were absolute necessities. Salt, especially in relation to meats for proteins, was essential for storage. Attacking an opponent production gives the attacker an incredible advantage. In non state societies, political pow er originates from salt through its ability to transform overproduction into storable produce, which subsequently can be gifted in exchanges. In either case, salt is a highly valued resource. Access to salt production sites equals access to power. Yet, mat erial qualities of salt resources structure production practices in comparable manners that material qualities direct consumption practices, as discussed in Chapter 3. Three material qualities are important for production practices. First, salt only occurs in very restricted geographic locations. Access is, therefore, restricted. Second, qualities of salts are location specific and not all salts are alike. Color, moisture content and grain size are important physical characteristics that differ across produ ction sites, and have important consequences for their intended use. Finally, salt is often seasonally bounded and only available year round in mines. Salt flats and boiling practices depend heavily on local

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103 climate conditions that are only favorable for p roduction during specific times of the year. From a relationist approach, salt production practices are intrinsically connected to exchange, feasting and consumption practices. Because salt has such a pervasive impact on exchange and feasting practices, pr oduction has to be affected too. The potential to aggrandize power leads people to focus economically on this resource and dedicate labor to its exploitation. However, choices have to be made and social organization has to be adapted to these circumstances Material qualities of salt have social consequences in the production process. This chapter will illustrate how these material qualities affect social relations. 4.1 Salt and Private Land The geographic restrictions of naturally available salt allow grou ps to control production and exchange and establish ownership. Owners maximize profits through exclusive rights and access to salt and exploitation by competing groups is either prohibited or allowed on the basis of payments. This places the owners in a su perior position in contrast to non owners, as owners have something that non owners want and need. The advantages of salt ownership are also obvious to other groups that lack direct access to production locations. N on owning members of a society are aware of the potential power of salt as they observe that access to salt enables owners to store larger food resources, maintain larger regional exchange networks, hold larger feasts and accumulate and aggrandize social status more successfully. Identification of these consequences of successful exploitation and utilization by non owning groups may result in an increased interest in these locations and lead to conflicts over ownership.

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104 Ownership needs to be established and continuously secured to maintain access and control. Non owning groups might start a feud or wage war to gain access. Restricted occurrences of salt production sites facilitate control and access, but concomitantly increase social tension and possibilities of physical violence. Ethnographic stu dies, however, also discuss communal ownership of salt resources. In Salinas de Mira, Ecuador, salt specialist s from other highland regions are allowed to use local brine springs and access to salt is not restricted to local villagers only (Pomeroy 1988:1 40) Communal use of salt rich soils is also observed by Parsons (2001:20) near Mexico City and no individual or group claims ownership over these resources. However, this was a very recent development and, until the 1950s, salt makers had to make a paymen t to either individuals or villagers who had rights to these locations. Regional developments of industrialization in salt production and the import of cheap salt decreased costs so much that people stopped considering salt as a highly valued exchange item (Parsons 2001) These case studies indicate that ownership over salt resources cannot be assumed and taken for granted. Yet, the shift from privately owned to communal use in the Mexican example provides a case in which situational salt sources are expect ed to be private possessions. The introduction of cheap industrial salt led to a devaluation of local salts. The price dropped significantly and salt was widely available. While demand for salt remained the same in this region, supply went up and costs wen t down. The status of salt changed from a valuable that is difficult to obtain to a commodity that is inexpensive and easy to procure. Private ownership of salt diminished after it lost its value. The devaluation of salt led to a depreciation of the salt s ources and local salt makers could

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105 not afford to compete with industrial salt when the compensation was added to the price. However, in a context where salt is scarce and valuable, ownership is established over production sites and compensation is needed f or its use. Examples of ownership over salt production are ample, underlining its value in most contexts. Maya coastal s alinas, for one were property of lord s or villages (Ewald 1985:17) In early colonial times the Spanish reported many feuds between lo cal lords and villagers over rights and access to salt works across Mexico supporting the claim that salt works were considered private possessions (Ewald 1985:18) Early historical documents from Puerto Rico indicate that local chiefs and villages privat ely owned salinas as well. These documents mention Salinas de Agueybana, Salinas de Abey and Salinas de Gunica, relating these salinas with people and villages (Tanodi 2009:83, 86) Agueybana and Abey were chiefs, the first lived in the southwest near San German and the latter in the province that is today called Salinas. Gunica is a village that is located between San German and Salinas along the south coast. Finally, examples of Chinese, Roman and French taxes on salt are further evidence for ownership and restrictions to access in these particular regions (Kurlansky 2003) Archaeological case studies are scarce. Dever (2007) however, discusses a diachronic perspective on the organization of salt production in the village of Chengue in Tairona National Park on the north coast of Colombia. Dever (2007) distinguishes His scenarios contrast with one another. In the top down situation elites from other villages initiat ed a community near the salt producing lagoon to establish and maintain rights to access, where in the bottom up situation social differentiation emerged out of

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106 local practices and involved local villagers. The gradual development of intra village differen tiation of wealth leads Dever (2007) to suggest that these processes are instigated by local people maneuvering in a local setting rather than outsiders establishing a structure that includes social stratification in the first place. In either case, differ entiation in wealth and social status in the village of Chengue signifies that certain members have more privileges and access to the main economic product, namely salt, than others. In order to maximize profits, access and control are essential. Ownership over these resources is secured and other groups are denied. Ownership, however, has serious social consequences. Land becomes a valuable and can be privately possessed. In regions where resources are heterogeneously distributed and available to everyone, or when resources are abundant, land is not a value that needs to be secured. The strong relation between a social group and the land they own has important consequences. 4.2 Places of Salt Production The spatial concentration of salt resources, in conjun ction with the natural variation between different salts establishes a strong relation between the salt and the location of origin Most salts, nowadays, are a commodity and devoid of social qualities and references of particular places. But exceptions, suc h as Himalayan Pink salt (which is not collected in the Himalaya, but rather just south in Kewra, Pakistan), Hawaiian salts and fleur de sel from France, have specific characteristics and uses and are clearly related to their place of production. Even more so, these gourmet salts are specifically But most kitchen salts, produced by major companies like Morton, Cargill, North

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107 American Salt Company and Akzo Nobel, lack reference to places of origin. Differentiation is made between salt, kosher salt and sea salt, but these nominations only reference production processes. All these salts are processed, including Kosher salts, to increase purity and standardize the ch emical composition. Techniques to refine salt produce high purity content of natrium and sodium. These processes are industry oriented and have little to do with consumption. The contemporaneous homogeneity in salts is a byproduct of industrial demands for pure salts. As a result, all salts are alike and it is difficult to recognize variations in color and taste (see Bitterman 2010) The industrialization of salt production standardized salt and disconnected it from its social value, which references place of production. Procedures to refine and grind the salt make it uniform and all salts are white and have small grains. The natural diversity in color, grain size and form is completely lost, disassociating the salt from its natural diversity. Material qual ities of all these processed salts are alike and impossible to differentiate. Looking at, tasting or feeling the salt grains does not link these grains to specific locations in the landscape. Homogenization of salts also deleted the social connotations ass ociated with their places of production. In pre industrial settings, however, salts were not homogeneous. For example, impurities differentiated salts. Impurities were either added, for example with the grey salt during raking, or present in solution when the water evaporated, such as the iron in Himalayan pink salt. Besides adding colors, impurities change taste as well. Naturally occurring impurities, such as magnesium, potassium and calcium, are elements that occur in sea water and change the flavor of s alt. These elements and their flavor are

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108 lost through purification. The loss includes elements that are essential for human nutrition. In the absence of processes to refine salts, every location of salt production produces slightly different salts. Impuri ties in the salt occur in different qualities and quantities, but different production processes cause variation in color, texture, taste and potential uses (see Bitterman 2010 for a complete discussion on different salts, their tastes and uses) These var iations in material qualities also affect its potential use and fleur de sel has a high moisture content and is not suited for curing or preserving meats and fish. Yet, the moisture and irregular crysta ls of fleur de sel make it an excellent finishing salt. The high moisture content retards the salt from going into solution when it is sprinkled on top of food and different sizes and shapes of crystals continuously release a salty taste when consumed, rat her than all at once with regular shaped crystals (Bitterman 2010) Salt is not just salt; every production site produces a different salt with specific characteristics and potential uses. A normative approach denies variation in salts, but a relationist perspective exposes how past peoples observed, experienced and maybe even purposefully created these differences in site specific qualities of particular salts. These site specific characteristics must be taken into account in studies that deal with salt p roduction and distribution. Different salts might have been exchanged in different networks and used for different purposes. Neglecting the variation in salts leads to a homogeneous perspective of salt exchange and related networks of social relations. For instance, multiple salt production strategies were used in the Maya region. In Yucatan, salt is produced by solar evaporation (Andrews 1983; Ewald 1985) At coastal

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109 lagunas in Belize, McKillop (1995, 2002, 2010) found ample evidence for boiling practices in the past. Solar evaporated salts are of higher purity and whiter color than traditionally boiled salts. Especially when brines are processed to increase salinity by pouring them into old seafaring canoes, as suggested by McKillop, more impurities infilt rate the water. In earlier writings, McKillop (1995) argued for a differentiation of these two salts and their exchange networks. Solar evaporated salts were exchanged over vast regions between elites, where Belizean salt production was for local consumpti on. This idea was later abandoned, because Belizean salt also was exported and not restricted to local consumption (McKillop 2002; McKillop and Sabloff 2005) Yet, the physical differences between the two salts are great and evidence that both were produce d for distant markets is not evidence for one sphere of exchange. Solar evaporated salts could still be more expensive and only available to elites or people of standing, while Belizean salts were cheaper and for commoners. These two trade networks could b oth be controlled by elites, but just made for different markets. Both salts were distributed in large regions to fulfill inland demands, but these demands were based on different needs. People inland all required salt, but choices of different quality sal ts allowed people to make decisions and communicate certain social relations with the salt they bought. If price was an issue, then the cheaper variety was purchased, but more expensive salt communicates ideas of social and economic wealth and therefore se rves other needs. Similarity in production methods for non local markets cannot be used as evidence for similarities of exchange networks and social meanings of different salts.

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110 The strong relation between physical qualities of salt and place of origin is strengthened when physical qualities of salt from specific locations render it extremely suited for specific functions. The qualities of fleur de sel as finishing salt are discussed above, but other salts are utilized for different purposes. For example, L iverpool and Turks Islands salt are extremely suited to cure meats and fish. These salts are dry and have very few impurities that spoil or bitter the taste (Shields 2007) During the American Revolution, rumor has it that George Washington personally orde red Turks & Caicos salt for his troops. In the army and navy logs of 1838, it states that pork had to be salted with Turks Island salt (Homans 1838:32, 96, 112, 128, 160, 192, 208) During this war, well preserved food items inevitably referenced the Turks Islands, as other available salts were not as capable of properly preserving meat. Through consumption and experience, relations between the food and the Turks Islands were developed. Material aspects of salt communicate their places of origin through the way they affect practices and how they are used and experienced. 4.3 Inalienable Salt The undeniable bond between a specific salt and its place of production is constantly transmitted in exchanges. If people are knowledgeable of site specific qualities of particular salts, then physical qualities communicate references to these places. A pinkish colored salt at the grocery stores reminds people of the Himalayas, and fleur de sel evokes an idea of France and Hawaiian salts reference these pacific islands. R eferences and connotations to certain places of production reach far beyond a name or a region, but include all other meanings and values people connect with these places. Himalayan pink salt unmistakably evokes images of snowed capped mountains, while fle ur de sel references all the good things French cuisine has to offer, including

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111 wines and a Burgundian life style. Hawaiian salts will always be connected with an image of a volcanic tropical island. Unique qualities of different salts associate these salt s with references to their place of origin. However, as discussed before, these places are also connected to people who own these production locations. Hence, the distribution and exchange of salt concomitantly distributes social meanings of places and peo ple. When places and ownership are linked, the relation between salt and its original owner are as well. A triangulation of meanings and values of salt, place and ownership are inextricably bonded and communicated as a package. Private ownership over speci fic land establishes a social connection between a location specific product and owners. For example, the Salinas de Agueybana are not just naturally occurring locations where salt can be collected, but the location and the salt are both representations of wealth and power. This connection between salt, place of production and owners of salt works contributes to the power of salt. Salt is a medium of communication that, through its material and social characteristics, diffuses notions of identi ty and power of places and people. Physical consumption of salt is concomitantly a social consumption of meanings and values of owners and places of origin. Even far away from the location of production and in the absence of owners, salt displays and broad casts social values and meanings. Receivers and consumers of exchanged salts are, through the undeniable link between the salt, the site of production and its owner, continuously reminded of the power of the donor. Owners are always socially connected to t he product that they oversee.

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112 Hence, salt is an inalienable possession (Mauss 1990; Weiner 1992) in a pre social relations to producers and places of production are pres erved. The physical form of salt is exchanged, but the social meanings and values never alter. Receivers are reminded, through the physicality of salt, who controls and exchanges it. As long as the physical qualities are unique and the salt is not consumed the material qualities will act as mnemonic devices. Its presence recalls all the connected meanings to the observer. To discontinue the communication of social values and meanings, salt has to be consumed or physically removed from the social arena. Mau ss (1990) even posited that inalienable gifts are actually not gifted at all, as owners keep some sort of possession. He argues that these items are better understood as loans, because original owners maintain rights of ownership over exchange valuables. H owever, his examples only concern valuables and do not include more mundane exchange items, such as salt. Salt is truly exchanged, because of the expected and intended consumption of this gift. After salt is consumed, it is physically removed from the mate rial world and cannot be gifted back in its original form. However, salt is not a commodity that is exchanged without social implications. Commodities are void of social meaning and are completely disconnected from their original giver. Responsibilities a nd rights of commodities end after the final exchange and givers and receivers have no obligations to one another. Yet, salt is a gift that has particular values that cannot be altered. Connotations to places of production prohibit a complete change of act ual ownership. Owners maintain some sort of social ownership over their product and even though the product is consumed and receiver has all the

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113 rights to do with the salt whatever he likes, some aspects are never truly transferred. Salt falls within Weine while the original owner/producer is never disconnected from the gifted item and maintains some sort of historical connection (Weiner 1992) Salt finds itself between a commodity and a valuable. Inalienable possessions are perfect gifts, because these gifts are never totally given and, therefore, have increased values. The inalienability of salt increases its demand as an exchange resource, as salt transforms into a medium of communication of soci al wealth and power. Salt is a display of power and corresponds, besides places of production, to social groups that have the capacity to control these resources. References to social groups and their power are even communicated in their physical absence a nd broadcast over a wide region. Salt is exchanged over larger regions than owners can visit, and a distribution of salt is a non personal statement of their capacity and power. 4.4 Salt, Gender and Mobility Rights and ownership over salt production sites entails that investments of labor are needed to maintain and secure this possession. Labor is organized to establish jurisdiction and control access to immobile wealth, such as land and salt ponds. At a minimum, people need to be present during times of p roduction and ensure that only individuals with controlled entry collect and procure salt. The immobility of the source of wealth immobilizes people, as stationary wealth gives the opportunity to rivals to access these resources when owners abandon the lan d. So, people adapt their way of living to accommodate the need to protect wealth. A diachronic development in which salt ponds

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114 become objects of value incorporates a change in the organization of labor and restricts The organization of labor is directly related to the division of labor (Collier and Yanagisako 1987) People cross culturally organize labor along two axes of male and female domains. Males and females are appointed different jobs, but together they form an economic unit of p roduction. Both genders cooperate and are dependent upon one another. Boundaries between the two are established through enactment of these gender specific jobs, which entails that they are interpretable, unfixed and esoteric. Although practices will alway s be differentiated through gender, the specific division is culturally specific and is not grounded in some biological, predetermined way. Despite the fact that a gender division of labor is culturally specific, some structures do reappear in different co ntexts. These reoccurring structures are a product of human reproduction and the labor that is required to rear a child. Women are restricted in their capacities to move and perform demanding physical labor during pregnancy, resulting in a necessary shift in these practices to a male realm. Furthermore, after pregnancy, women are confined though practices of breast feeding and child rearing, restricting their mobility. This division of labor emerges out of the restrictions posed by biology, but is not a bio logical fact predetermined at birth. Different biological functions of male and female anatomy in cycles of reproduction enforce a distinction in what women and men are physically capable of doing. These distinctions are cultural interpretations of what it means to be masculine or feminine, which is gender. 1 1 The gendered division of labor st retches between masculine and feminine ideals. Deviations are, of course, present but these anomalies have little effect on general social structures and ideas.

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115 The organization of labor, therefore, must be perceived from a gender perspective. The gendered division of labor affects how people organize themselves. The desire to protect salt production sites fro m others and the concomitant immobilization of people is not homogeneously distributed across the two genders. Furthermore, practices that involve the exploitation of resources, including exchange and feasting practices, are gendered as well. Understanding processes of adaptation to a salt oriented economy has to start from the assumption that male and female practices are differentiated and both genders are unequally affected by these changes. Males and females might both modify their practices, but in dis similar ways. In addition, a change in practices is only required for people who own salt production sites. Specialization in salt production induces an economic differentiation between groups of people. Although the main focus of economic production of sa lt owning groups is directed to the maximization of this resource, other economic practices will be abandoned or receive less attention. Yet, other people in that region continue or even redirect more labor to economic practices that are now abandoned by s alt owning groups. Economies are plural and multiple groups engage in different practices (Ensor 2000) Only people who are invested in the protection, control and exploitation of salt have to alter their way of living. Salt affects mobility in two ways. F irst, protection of salt production sites leads to an immobilization of people. To maintain control, protection demands that people are present at the site. Second, salt facilitates long distance voyages and increases mobility, as stated in the previous ch apter. Exchange in large social networks requires an increase in mobility. Salt simultaneously restricts and demands mobility. Salt

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116 concentrates human resources to maintain possession of the production site, while it disperses people at times of exchange. People negotiate between the demands of protection and exchange, and mobility is adjusted according to these demands. Protection of salt ponds means that intergroup conflict occurs and others are willing to take control by force. Cross culturally, wars, fe uds and raids are in the hands of men rather than women, irrespective of other kinship practices such as residency and inheritance (Divale and Harris 1976) Even in societies with a strong matrilineal focus, men tend to be in positions of power and control (Schneider and Gough 1961) Divale and Harris (1976) label this structural aspiration to be in control of wealth directing males into this social arena of interaction The desire of authority results in a gender division in warfare practices. Warfare practices are gendered and, therefore, structure the mobility of males only. However, the format of warfare determines if mobility is high or low. Divale (1974) argues th at the mobility of males is determined by the difference between internal and external warfare. According to Divale (1974) external and internal warfare have precise structures. Internal warfare is very common in societies without centralized governments and, as a result, destabilizes social cohesion and weakens a society vis vis outsiders. Competition occurs between peers within a society. External warfare is an adaptive strategy to a situation where alien communities are considered a larger threat than peers and all efforts are concentrated toward these outsiders. Local and

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117 External warfare directs attention to foreign lands and wealth, where internal warfare focuse s on the wealth and land of direct neighbors. External warfare necessitates high mobility of males, because males need to move beyond the boundaries of their social network to engage in war. A context in which external warfare may arise is migration of pe ople into already populated regions. Internal warfare restricts the mobility of males, because immediate neighboring enemies necessitate local protection. An economic focus on salt increases the significance of salt production sites within a region and in the absence of a clear government or external enemy, internal warfare is likely to arise as the dominant form of competition. Access to power through the economic exploitation of salt results in antagonistic feelings between owners and non owners. Non owne rs will try to gain access, while owners will try to protect and secure their rights. In this situation, where power is related to immobile wealth, i.e. case land in the form of salt production sites, it is expected that kin related males spatially concen trate in this specific location to communally protect the interest of the kin group. Immobility and scarcity of salt production sites demands a certain organization of labor and affects residency patterns. Gender roles in relation to mobility and warfare a re flexible and adapt and change to new circumstances. Salt, therefore, affects mobility in a gender specific way. An adaptation to a salt centered economy demands males become less mobile and protect the production locations. However, salt also requires a n increase in mobility during times of exchange. Perishable items are preserved and can now be transported to regions further away and exchange takes place in a larger social network. Larger distances need to be crossed

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118 and people are away from home longer to serve these larger networks. Labor is allocated to exchange voyages to accommodate and maximize profits of salt and salted foods. A significant problem arises in relation to the mobility patterns of people, because people need to stay at one location t o protect the resource, but at the same time they need to move to exchange the resource and fully exploit its potential. In addition to this problem of mobility, long distance exchange voyages are cross culturally part of a male realm as well. Child rearin move around and be far from home for longer stretches of time. Also, long distance voyages over land and sea are hazardous endeavors and children are too valuable to be lost during these episodes of exchange. Finally exchanges are quintessential episodes to negotiate relations of power and long distance voyages always involve exchanges with overseas or distant exchange partners. The male desire to establish and maintain a position of power also applies to exchange pr actices and it is likely that males want to engage in these overseas exchanges. Male mobility is heavily influenced by salt. Production sites must be protected against invaders and long distance exchange networks need to be maintained. Salt restricts male mobility in relation to protection, but is simultaneously required for exchange. A conundrum arises in respect to how to allocate male labor in salt centered economies. This situation can either be manipulated by allocating a certain group of males to prot ection and another group to exchange practices or by allocating all males to protection and, at a different time, all males to exchange. In the first case, both protection and exchange are year round, but are continuously less then optimal. Production site s can be better protected and more goods can be exchanged, but the

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119 restrictions in male labor moderate the possibilities. In the second case, protection and exchange are not year round practices, but when they occur, they are maximized. The choice between these two scenarios is facilitated by another material quality of salt. 4.5 Seasonality of Salt Salt production is often seasonal. Year round changes in weather determine evaporation rates and a lack of sufficient solar energy or an abundance of rain total ly retard or destroy production. Throughout the year, especially in situations where salt production is dependent on solar energy, only a few months are adequate for production. Even in situations where salt is extracted from brine through boiling and does not depend on solar energy, salt extraction is often dependent on beneficial circumstances. Brine wells sometimes only produce sufficient amounts of brine after the rainy season (Ewald 1985; Parsons 2001) and soils that contain salt can only be observed a t the end of the dry season (Parsons 2001) The collection of the brine or soils, in these cases, is not dependent on solar energy, but on other climate related factors. Production on intra annual time scales is regionally specific. In mainland Mexico and Yucatan, production is highest just before the rainy season starts in June (Ewald 1985; Parsons 2001) The collection of salty soils in the Valley of Mexico also happens just before the rainy season starts, as the salt colors the soil white and the best so ils are easy to identify. In the Turks & Caicos Islands, two dry seasons occur, one in April and May and a second one in July and August (Sears and Sullivan 1978) For salt production, July is the peak season (Sullivan 1981) In France, the warmest months, August and September, also produce the most salt. Especially for the production of fleur de sel hot summer winds are necessary (Bitterman 2010)

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120 Because of its potential power, it is safe to assume that maximum salt production occurs during months when salt is available. As a consequence, other production or exchange practices are limited during times when salt production is high. Priority is given to salt production over the production of other, less powerful, items. The future oriented perspective, es pecially in relation to a taskscape (Ingold 1993) is reflected here again. Multiple, seemingly unrelated practices are organized on one economy that, in the case of salt, emerges out of the need for labor at very specific times during the year. The proble matic division in male labor between protection and exchange practices is possibly negotiated through the seasonality of salt Salt related practices do not require the spatial concentration of kin related males year round and male mobility is exclusively restricted at times when salt is available. During the off season, male mobility is manageable. Although possession of the salt production site is lost when production is not possible, males can retake position and control the resource when conditions impr ove. The necessity to control access disappears when salt is absent and males are free to move without detrimental consequences of losing a valuable resource. Although salt significantly restricts male mobility in certain months of the year, it enables and promotes mobility in others because year round control is not essential. Bermudians followed this exact pattern during the 17 th and 18 th century. For six months of the year Bermudians moved to Salt Cay and produced salt, while after the salt season they r eturned to Bermuda and sold it to passing ships. The influence of salt on an economy surpasses the seasonal mobility of males and affects economic practices during non production seasons as well. Practices of

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121 exchange, planting crops, fishing, net making a nd transportation are all, at least partially, dependent on salt. People plan and manage their resources so that at crucial times of the year, production is maximized. Salt becomes a binding factor that establishes a foundation upon which other practices a re built. As salt is the main economic item in certain social networks, other economic activities are indirectly focused on salt. The consequences of the material qualities of salt extend way beyond the immediate practices involved in exploitation and cons umption. 4.6 Conclusion A gamut of practices surfaces through a detailed discussion of small scale phenomena in a salt centered economy. The increased potential to display wealth and exchange goods through salt provides the social context for its exploitat ion. Salt forms a central point of attention within a web of multiple related practices that are all affected by this resource. Although the social context in which salt was used is not explicitly ties structure people and practices in very specific ways. These material qualities provide a sufficient foundation to approximate parameters on which people in the past based their decisions. Both Chapter 3 and 4 have focused on these social consequences of material qualities. An economic focus on the exploitation of this resource is directly related to people using salt to preserve food and utilize salted produce to negotiate and manipulate social relations through exchange. These spatially and temporally disconnected practices inform each other and are intrinsically related. The power of salt emanates from both its material quality to preserve and accumulate produce that can be used in exchange, as it is based on the restricted and localized access that f acilitate control and location

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122 specific qualities that communicate ideas of places and people. All these practices are part of one sociality of salt. Finally, people adapt to salt. Salt changes practices and social relations between people, granting it po wer and agency (for non human agency, see Gosden 2001, 2005; Ingold 2007; Latour 2005; Miller 2005a; Robb 2004) In order to fully exploit this resource, people are committed to seasonal exploitation and are restricted from other production activities. Als o, increased exploitation of salt will eventually result in differences in social status as well, changing the way different groups relate to one another. Without salt, economic practices and networks of social relations look vastly different. Salt is a pa rticipant and interacts as a powerful object within social relations.

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123 CHAPTER 5 THE IDEOLOGY OF SALT The physicality of salt guides ideology. A holistic, practice oriented approach departs from the notion that ideology emerges from practices. From this an thropological perspective, ideology is not perceived as a structure distanced or disconnected from that constantly interacts with people and the material world. Physi cal properties of salt guide practices in very distinct ways, as described in Chapter 3 and 4. Salt structures practices of economic production, seasonal activities, gendered mobility and communal gatherings and ultimately transforms positions of power and control. Salt penetrates many realms of daily activities and influences how people see the world they inhabit. Consequently, ideological values, meanings and symbolic references of salt are remarkably consistent throughout different social contexts. In sp atially and temporally disconnected societies, salt has been an important symbol of fertility, sexuality, continuity and durability. Ideology, or worldview, is an abstract thought of how the world is structured. As objectified knowledge, ideology is an in terpretation of how things are supposed to be (Barrett 1994:71) It is an ideal and shared representation of how the world and people are organized. As a superstructure, ideology is a generalized framework of reference and predispositions that affect how p eople act and think. These cognitive structures or systems of meaning are immaterial and intangible, but have very strong repercussions on how people engage and live their world. The immaterial aspect of ideology is difficult to interpret for archaeologist s working with only material remains of the past. Knowledge is a mental construct and the

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124 underlying structures (Barrett 1994:71) This perception often leads to the c onclusion (Binford 1965) The immaterial nature of ideology forms a boundary for archaeologists just working with tangible and material products of ideological structures. A completely idealistic representation of ideology, however, excludes any material foundation for these generalized perceptions of the world, disregarding physical and tangible structures that shape knowledge and ideas. Grounded in the work of Marx, anthropological emphasis has shifted to the crucial importance of modes of production as everyday practices that inform people of ideological structures. Bourdieu (1977) and Foucault (1977) both focus on the material world and how it dire cts and constructs general ideology of discipline (Foucault 1977) The physical and tangible w orld affects ideologies and how people construct mental images of it. Marxist perspectives perceive ideology as a religious and political system that is instituted by the elites to control the masses. Through dominant ideologies, elites maintain power and justify their position. Grounded in economic practices, religious and political systems are objectified and the general population accepts these structures as given and unchangeable. Ideology is a tool to appropriate and maintain positions of power over th masking the true nature of power relations (Barrett 1994:77)

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125 A practice oriented relationist approach to ideology, however, deviates from tion of the rich to rule the poor, which leaves no room for neutral or positive aspects of ideology for the larger population. But other symbolic dimensions, like art and religion, are integral parts of all social actions and life, rather than disconnected and separate immaterial dimensions that only express social hierarchies (Geertz 2003) Ideology and other symbolic realms give meaning and value to daily life and are much more than unconscious blueprints of power relations. To be clear, power relations a re still part of these symbolic realms, but not all expressions are focused on the power differentiation between groups of people. From a practice oriented approach, ideology is a structure. It is an objectified construction of how things are. Yet, this st ructure is dynamic and in a constant state of becoming. People engage with these structures and manipulate and negotiate their action within its boundaries. Ideology is a constant back and forth between its performance and the objectified knowledge. Hence, performance is simultaneously a product and the producer of the objectified knowledge. This dynamic definition of ideology, where every practice that embodies the structure is concomitantly an expression and a foundation of it, redirects attention to the bodily and material aspects of ideology. Therefore, the physicality of practices and the world play a vital role in the formation of certain ideas and symbolic structures. Without bodily expressions and material correlates, symbolic and intangible realms do not exist. And if these realms have no repercussions on how people behave, they require no attention. Practices on the microscale provide the basis for ideology on a macroscale, which subsequently

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126 reinforms the microscale about how practices are suppos ed to be enacted. Ideology is not an immaterial cognitive tool unaffected by the material world, but a product of history and repetition. Historical sequences of practices follow different paths and alter, strengthen, maintain, justify, objectify, natural ize and institutionalize certain relationships. People engaging in practices are able to intentionally change the underlying structure through their participation. Individuals are aware of frameworks of reference that structure practices and can consciousl y manifest their intentions, within the boundaries of the framework, to communicate new ideas or objectify existing relationships. Certain individuals will find it in their best interest to maintain current social relations while others will contest presen t structures and communicate new notions. The direction of historical sequences is not predetermined and their routes are constantly challenged, depending on how people act upon underlying structures and how successful their endeavors are. Agency, in this perspective, is located at the interval between individuals and frameworks of reference in which they live. The ability to negotiate their social position within the boundaries of these frameworks grants power to both structure and individuals. Agency is relational and determined by the interaction between an individual or a coherent social group and the social structure in which they are enmeshed (Barrett 2000; Brumfiel 2000; Dobres 2000; Ritzer 2001; Ritzer and Gindoff 1994) The individual cannot act ou tside the rules and limits set by the structure, but within the possibilities, people can actively and consciously present themselves in certain ways that might alter their options in the future. The structure cannot exist without people who

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127 practice these structures, while people require this structure to know how they are and structure. The dynamic interplay between microscales and macroscales is not always balanced and in some situations, certain scales are more important than others. In the case of ideological macroscales, certain structures are maintained and strengthen over such long time scal es that they become very resista nt to change. Repeated statements of their people unconsciously accept them. These structures move from a realm where they are discursive and negotiated to another level where contestation or manipulation is almost imp ossible. In these circumstances, the macroscale has more power than the microscale and practices are strictly structured and engrained. Bourdieu (1977:159 171) labels these unquestionable structures as doxa : Subjective arbitrary structures that are accepte d as objective and natural through prolonged repetition of practices of validation. Doxa how things are; a constructed reality that is generally accepted. These doxic structures lives that they are completely unfamiliar with their existence. The processes of objectification are so successful that the subjective basis is completely forgotten. Heterodoxy or orthodoxy 1 are its opposite and includes frameworks of reference for which subjectivity is acknowledged and, therefore, constantly contested. 1 Heterodoxy differs from orthodoxy, but both are opposites of doxa Heterodoxy refers to the that remains questionable and discursive.

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12 8 In relation to doxa, agency seems to be dislocated from the individuals and totally resides in social structure. A relational aspect between the individual and structure is abandoned as str ucture is unquestionable, implicit and unconscious, removing any form of agency from individuals who are enmeshed in these structures. The structures dictate become contested ag ain. The resistance to change and unquestionable nature is not necessarily ever lasting. On a continuum between individual agency and structure, microscale and macroscale, doxa is located as close to structure as possible, while heterodoxy remains close to Figure 5 1 The relation between doxic and heterodoxic structures, agency, individuals and structure Ideology is doxic, an unquestionable and accepted statement of what reality is and how the world is structured. Id eology is relatively static, resistant to change and forms an ideal long term basis for people to understand their environment. Its fixed character limits the flexibility in individual interpretations and stabilizes social relationships. Without deeply roo ted underlying structures, social life would be too fluid and nothing would make sense. Perceptions lack structure and the communication of communal ideas would be severely restricted. Yet, practices are necessary to confirm and perpetuate these structures Without repetition, unconscious underlying structures are forgotten and disappear. Furthermore, the emphasis on continuity and perpetuity leaves

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129 ideology is never comp letely devoid of manipulation and negotiation of its foundations. Ideology is abstract, as it structures how people behave and act, while at the same time it needs these practices to confirm its status as unchallenged. 5.1 Material Worlds and Objects Where as lives of people are ephemeral and relatively short, these ideological structures are stable and last. Individuals and their ever changing lives are unlikely a basis for lasting structures that outlive them. The durability and continuity of ideological c onstructs must be grounded in something besides practices, something that is a physical representation of perpetuity. The material aspects of people and their bodies are not specifically suited to convey messages of continuity and durability. The stability in practices and social structures emanates from agents other than humans. Objects are stable indexes of continuity (Gell 1998; Gosden 2005; Ingold 2007; Latour 2005; Miller 2005b) The material world, full of objects, provides a relatively fixed backgrou nd for yearly practices. The repetitiveness of seasons and material qualities of objects induce a repetition in practices, providing a performance based structure for ideological concepts. The material world is predictive and the stability of climates and features in the landscape establish boundaries to the possibilities of human practices. These material qualities of the world and objects do not determine practices per se but they restrict certain possibilities and open up others. People have to adhere t o objects and the material world during their daily routines. Practice oriented approaches to past landscapes utilize material manifestations of ideology and mainly focus on architectural features. Monumental structures are such material manifestations tha t provide structure to practices and these monuments reflect and concomitantly change and shape perceptions of the world (Barrett 1994, 1999;

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130 Barrett and Ko 2009; Bradley 1998, 2002; Richardson 1982; Thomas 1996, 1999, 2001; Tilley 1993, 1994, 2004) Espec ially in the British Isles, archaeologists became aware how these built structures were transforming the way past peoples understood the landscape. The monuments were fixed and stable material objects that informed people how the world was structured. Rat her than understanding these structures as final representations, researchers started to become aware of the changing nature of these large monuments and the successive stages and building sequences. The monuments are not static structures that had a perpe tual static meaning, but form part of the material world that structures and is simultaneously structured by people who live in that landscape. People engaging with these material boundaries negotiated the set boundaries of this material world and implemen ted structural and material alterations to the monuments. Yet, the material how subsequent additions or alterations were implemented (Barrett 1999) Jones (1998:301 302) st resses that these landscape approaches to monumental architecture in archaeological literature preference buildings and other human objects that enculture the landscape, leaving little to no room for other, non human agents. Although most scholars depart f rom the notion that people inhabit the natural world, the preconditions play no part in the process of enculturation. The structures that guide human practices are built and are, in these approaches, not grounded in the natural landscape. In his attempt to move away from exclusively human aspects of the landscape, Jones (1998) turned his attention to another part of material culture, namely animals.

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131 Animals are then constitutive of the experience of place. Experiences are linked through memory a nd may be e voked through the use of objects, such as animals, which embody the memory of a particular place. Animals are, then, a medium by which places may be linked through social and symbolic practice. Given this, it is possible to perceive animal species not as u niform entities, but as qualitatively different according to a series of different cultural priorities such as their relationship and proximity to humans; spatially, temporally and morphologically. Animals may be simultaneously classified by the places whi ch they inhabit, while also serving as a means of classifying the landscape. Cultural landscapes are therefore never uniform, but are made up of a series of places which, according to a myriad of cultural perceptions, are graded differently. This differen tial grading of the landscape allows us to consider ways in which access to, and knowledge of, various places may be controlled through dominatory social relations (Tilley, 1996). Furthermore, the products of these places such as raw materials and animal r esources may be s imilarly controlled. The procurement, use and deposition of specific species, within certain contexts, may be socially prescribed and may occur according to appropriate temporal and spatial rules, and be undertaken by specific members of t he social group (Crocker, 1985). (Jones 1998:303) Barrett (1994, 1999) Bradley (1998) and Thomas (1996, 1999) agree landscape archaeology starts before monuments and b uildings are constructed and (1994) discussion on Avebury, for example, focuses on a diachronic development of different phases of monumental construction and associated practices within this specific landscape and explains how these phases (un)intentionally influenced each other. Human induced physical alterations of the material world are foregrounded, while non human participants within this process are neglected. Non human agency is restricted to man made inanima te objects, but other natural features of the landscape are left out. Besides buildings and animals, other non human agents in an environment include more permanent features of the landscape, such as mountain tops, shores, wetlands

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132 and rivers (Bradley 2000 ) move in a landscape, shaping perceptions of the environment. The location of raw materials, especially when they are exploited for specific uses, structure practices as well (Thomas 1996, 1999) Tho mas (1996, 1999) describes how the Neolithic exploitation of flint in Sussex mines mimicked and referenced the deposition of human remains. Human burials were excavated and disarticulated remains were deposited at different sites. Similar practices involve flint mining and deposition, as flint came from underground sources in Sussex, and through exchange, flint axes were discarded in different regions. Flint from Sussex became intrinsically related to human remains through the intrinsic relation between bot h practices. These practices are not reflections of the social meaning and value, but they structure and articulate these meanings through their performance. Salt is an object that structures practices and, therefore, affects ideologies as well. Furthermo re, physical aspects of salt structure practices in a very specific way. In salt centered economies, practices involved in the construction and maintenance of social networks of power are particularly focused on the production and consumption of salt. The preservative, nutritional and sensuous qualities of salt increase potential to signify power during communal gatherings and feasts, whereas limited availability and restricted locations of production influence ideas of ownership and gendered mobility. communicate and display positions and ideas of power in more effective ways. When ideology is a construction of how people relate to one another and the world, and s alt alters power relations between people, salt cannot be neglected. The

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133 significance of salt in ideological realms is not a product of salt in and of itself, nor is it a product of human cognition irrespective of the material world. People engage with the of power, producing a context in which power and salt are intrinsically linked. The very specific way salt structures practices, as discussed in Chapter 3 and 4, enforces similar connotations to this resource in different social contexts. Irrespective of social context, people have to adapt to these basic material boundaries of salt. Salt induces relatively stable practices, creating the foundation for widespread a nd similar ideological connotations to this particular resource. 5.2 Durability and Continuity of Salt Salt preserves and changes a perishable into a non perishable. Salt creates durable items that last and remain, from foods that decay and vanish. Althoug h this the preservation of edibles. People are very aware of the role salt plays in this process. Practices of salting primarily intend to transform inherent qualit ies of food from perishable to lasting and enduring products for consumption, but these practices require salt. Salt and salting practices cooperate to make edibles last. The contrast in characteristics of unprepared and salted food is of such a scale, tha t the material qualities of this contrast communicate this change. Unprepared foods are always impermanent and disappear if left alone, whereas salted foods preserve and can be kept for years without refrigeration. The temporary nature of food stands in su ch

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134 such a pervasive way it demands attention. Salt alters food in such a significant w ay that the material becomes an index of its durability and continuity. Salt is also eternal. Salt never disappears, even when it visually escapes. Put in solution, salt becomes invisible and intangible. Yet, the taste of the liquid is salty, a reminder of its inexplicit presence. After evaporation of the salty liquid, salt crystals reappear and form the same amount of salt that went into solution. With contemporary knowledge of atoms and ions in solution, this process is easy to explain, but this transitio fascinates Kurlansky (2003) to such a degree that he dedicates the first pages of his book by describing how a rock salt from Spain went through successive stages of salt to brine and back to salt in his house. The perseverance of salt bestows it an even larger value of continuity and perpetuity. In concordance with these ideas of continuity and perpetuity, Plato states that salt is dear to gods (Kurlansky 2003) and in the Iliad, Homer mentions that salt is sacred and divine. Homer ascribes these qualities to salt, because it preserves incorrupt items and prevents them from dissolution (Homer 1767:236) The effect salt has on perishable items is transposed to other non edibl es. The ability to preserve food in an edible state is compared to the divine ability to maintain a pristine state of being. Unscrupulous behavior deteriorates the body and moves it further away from a moral life, but by maintaining and abiding morals, ind ividuals approximate divine behavior. Unchanging, pure and immaculate behavior of gods is equated with salt and its durability and ability to prevent decay. Plutarch parallels the spread of salt through our body after consumption to the spread of the soul, the most divine part within our body, and both

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135 act cohesively to keep our body from falling apart (Plutarch 2006:184) Gods and souls are omnipresent and never change, holding the same qualities as salt. Concepts of perpetuity in relation to salt are refe renced in the Bible as well (Trumbull 1899:19) agreement between god and another party that is perpetual and unalterable. When Aaron and his sons are seeded in priesthood, a covenant of covenant of salt with god, as his reign is perpetual and unchangeable. Lastly, Moses orders people to make sacrifices of salt after meals that stren gthen their continuous Sharing of salt also references the perpetual character of social relations and covenants. As salt was often controlled by bodies of power, such as go vernments or elites, the exchange of salt references the permanent social obligation of the receiver to the institution of power. The institution provides salt to the people as a vital nutrient, requesting in return loyalty and devotion. The physical consu mption of salt equals the social consumption of the reign of its controller. Trumbull (1899:19) states: In many lands, and in different ages, salt has been considered the possession of the government, or of the sovereign of the realm, to be controlled by t he ruler, as a source of life, or as one of its necessaries, for palace has been deemed a fresh obligation of fidelity on the part of its subjects. This is indicated in the Bible pass age with reference to the rebuilding of Zerubbabel of the Temple at Jeruzalem, under the edict of against the work as a seditious act. In giving their reason for this course they said to the king by the covenant of salt], and it is not meet for us to see the

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136 Because salt preserves, it also sustains life. Accordi ng to Trumball (1899:51 71) the nutritional need for salt induces a relation between salt and life. Salt deficiency was often recognized as the source of sickness and other health issues. Blood, as a source of life, is salty and Trumbull mentions multiple examples in which salt and blood substitute for one another in certain rituals (Trumbull 1899:35 50) Salt protects from harm and preserves good health. In medieval times, European farmers soaked grains in a brine to prevent a deadly fungal infestation, l abeled ergot. In Japanese and Haitian culture, salt was also used to suppress evil spirits and protect people from harm (Kurlansky 2003) The intimate relation between salt and life is especially visualized through the process of mummification, in which pr epared bodies were salted. The salting of human flesh was a vital step to preserve the human body in order to continue life in the afterlife. The desert environment of Egypt causes perspiration and the loss of salt, raising the need for additional salt in a diet. In Egypt, salt was a daily requirement As a source of life, the sun is another symbol that relates to salt. In many religions, the sun plays an important role, either as a main god or as a source of light. Sunlight, in contrast to the darkness of the night, enables plants to grow and fields to prosper. The resemblance between the words sun and salt is not just present in the English language. In Greek, hals and helios, in Welsch hal and haul, in Irish sal and sul all signify that there is some etymological connection between these words (Trumbull 1899:74) Finally the eternal cycle of sunrise and sunset represent continuity. There is a symbolic relation between gold and the sun as both are shiny, yellow of color and both remain unaltered. Old folklores often prescribe exposure to sunlight in

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137 cases of disease or health related discomfort. The light and the warmth that the sun emits, allows life to prosper. There is also a metaph orical connection between salt and materials is often explained in mere economic terms, departing from the notion that both salt and gold are scarce and have high values (A ndrews 1983; Kepecs 2004; Kurlansky 2003; McKillop 2002) But this expression of white gold for salt refers also to the quality of durability and continuity, as both salt and gold are unchangeable. Gold is one of the few metals that is resistant to corrosi on. The lack of oxidization causes the color to maintain its brightness. Gold and salt are both durable, shiny and valuable. Another connection between gold and salt exists. Oliver (2000) mentions that guanin or tumbaga a sacred copper gold alloy in the p rehistoric Caribbean and South American mainland, tasted salty. The example of guanin by Oliver (2000) also symbolically represents the sun and the light it emits. With evaporated salt, the sun is a producer or salt. While people need the sun and salt to l ive, salt needs the sun to form. Furthermore, salt crystals act as prisms in the sun and produce the appearance of a rainbow. A triangle of salt, gold and the sun arises as a symbol of perpetuity. 5.3 Fertility and Sexuality of Salt According to many cultu ral beliefs, salt is an aphrodisiac and intensifies sexual desires (Kurlansky 2003) Although the relation between the physicality of salt and symbols of durability and continuity are relatively straightforward, the connection between salt and fertility an d sexuality is less evident. Material qualities of salt do not necessarily increase sexual desires or fertility. The connotations to these concepts of sexuality and fertility are indirectly established through practices and observations that concern salt, salt making and salt consumption. These references to sexuality and

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138 fertility seem less apparent and unambiguous as the connotations to durability and continuity, but this discussion of its reoccurring nature will show how material qualities of salt functi on as an index of these two concepts. A possible connection between salt and sexual desire might stem from the bodily reaction to its consumption after undernourishment. A lack of salt causes multiple health problems which obviously decrease sexual desires Where and when salt was scarce and difficult to obtain, a lack of salt would numb a population and decrease their sexual appetite. Consumption of salt would revitalize people and sexual desires would return. In this context, salt works in similar ways as oysters did in medieval times. Oysters, a well known aphrodisiac, are high in vitamin C and travelers from Europe with scurvy and vitamin C deficiencies would instantly feel better after the consumption of these bivalve mollusks. The lack of vitamin C on the ships that travelled the Atlantic Ocean caused severe health issues and indirectly affected sexual desire, but consumption of revive his/her sexual desire. Kurlansky (2003) notes that many cultures relate the fertility of the sea directly to the saltiness of its water. The abundance of marine resources stems from the water, and the particular salty taste of the water increases its fertility. In addition, fish in parti cular have far more offspring than land based animals. The massive amounts of turtles lay an incredible number of eggs per nest and a minimum of approximately 50 eggs is ofte n met. Hawksbill turtles, though, can lay up to 200 eggs per nest and most sea turtle species lay more than one clutch a season. Finally, most sea animals, especially

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139 whales, are larger than land animals, indicating that the sea is far a better environment for animals to grow. A third and final source that relates sexuality and fertility to salt is the salty taste of bodily fluids. The human body contains up to 250 grams of salt (Adshead 1992) and all human bodily fluids taste salty (Adshead 1992; Astrup e t al. 1993; Bitterman 2010; Ewald 1985; Kurlansky 2003; McKillop 2002) Sweat and tears are less directly related to fertility and sexuality, but bodily fluids like urine and especially blood and semen have obvious connotations to sexuality and fertility. The relation between reproductive organs and female and male fertility is linked with the discharge and exchange of these fluids. The link between salt and fertility is based on the presence of salt in these fluids that are central to human reproduction. E xamples of cultural references of to salt and sexuality or fertility are infinite. Women in the 12 th century in France salted their men to make them virile. Salting would fspring (Kurlansky 2003:4) The Latin word for a man in love is salax the root for the English word salacious (Trumbull 1899:94) Latin provides another possible explanation for the relation between salt and sexuality. According to Pliny (1856) salt is n aturally igneous and the verbs saltus Latin verb salis (Trumbul l 1899:96) Love and a state of being in love are often symbolically referred to as sparkles of fire. As salt is related to sexual desire and fertility, the opposite of these concepts, abstinence, occurs with taboos on salt. Plutarch (2006:184) states that Egyptian priests,

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140 for example, did not consume salt to repress sexual thoughts and desires. To abstain from salt was to abstain from sex. Dayak from Borneo, Indonesia, abstain from sex and salt after head hunting raids (Kurlansky 2003:3) Headhunting, as an act of life taking, is a social opposite of sex, sexuality and fertility which are symbols of life giving. Both life giving and life taking practices are central aspects of fertility for many New Guinean societies (Lemonnier 2006:229) In the Dayak cas e, fertility rites are immediately followed by a taboo on sex and salt. Another example comes from the Chibcha in Colombia who live near the modern capital Bogot. Their economy concentrated around naturally occurring brine wells and the production of salt Twice a year, Chibchan salt lords refrained from sex and salt to honor their gods (Kurlansky 2003:3, 205) Caribs inhabiting the Lesser Antilles in early historic times also observed a taboo on the consumption of salt (Boomert 2000) Fray Ramn Pan (199 9) left an account of the indigenous population of Hispaniola during the early years of colonization. One of the stories he recorded hints at the existence of a relation between salt, fish and fertility within these communities. The story involves Yaya th e supreme god who has no name, his son Yayael and his mother at first. Yayael was killed by his father, after second attempt to kill his father. His bones were placed in a gourd and hang in the house. One day, Yaya wanted to see his son and togeth er with his wife he took the gourd down. bones were transformed into fish. Later, a group of four brothers intrudes the house and accidently drop the gourd. From the gourd, fish and seawater emerged and created the sea (Pan 1999:13 14)

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141 Multiple aspects of the story reference fertility. The gourd is a symbol of the womb and just like the four brothers who come from the womb of their mother, the fish come from the womb and bones of Yayael Fertility is related to females and their womb, childbirth and social reproduction. Furthermore, the fish in the gourd are used as food and supply the brothers with nutrition. The fertility of the fish is used to nourish people. Finally, the breaking of the gourd that initiates the pouring o f water and creation of the sea is a symbolic representation of the breaking of the water in childbirth. In this story, social reproduction and food production are both symbolized by a gourd, fish and the sea. The sea resembles the fluid in the amniotic sac that is released duri ng childbirth. Just like seawater, the fluid in the amniotic sac is salty. The saltiness of the sea enables and increases the fertility of the fish, but the fluid in the amniotic sac increases the fertility of the mother and her child(ren). 5.4 Salt Magic Salt is a magical substance. Because of the precarious environmental conditions that are needed for salt production, saltmakers and saltrakers are intensively invested in this process. Especially in situations where salt production is not a given and a lot of attention to this process. Bitterman (2010) describes how paludiers, saltrakers in France, are incredibly invested in observing all phenomena that allow salt to emerge from the brine. Season, wind, sun, temperature, color of the brine and specific salt bed characteristics are factors that are all considered. The production of special salts, like fleur de sel who rely on very specific conditions demand even more experien ce from the saltmaker. In France, the making of salt involves a lot of superstition and rituals (Bitterman 2010)

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142 Saltmaking, therefore, involves knowledge. The process of evaporation is dependent on so many factors and good saltmakers needs to be very kno wledgeable about these factors to make salt. Someone who is unfamiliar with the dynamics of production will have a really hard time producing salt. Furthermore, even when someone manages to make salt, the quality will most likely be lower than that of an e xperienced raker. Saltraking is done by specialists, people who have experience and know how salt behaves. The knowledge that is required elevates the social position of the people involved in the production process. This even holds true for contemporary l arge scale production sites. The biology of the brine is extremely important for the successful production of salt and the introduction of certain bacteria can reduce production by more than 70% (Dr. Joseph Davis, personal communication 2010). Dr. Joseph D avis, emeritus professor at the University of Florida, works all over the world and is contracted by big salt companies to consult on the biology of the brine. Although he states that his work is relatively simple and straightforward, these big companies a re unable to overcome their problems without his help and his knowledge is highly valued. few people within a society, which imbues these knowledge keepers with something spec ial and increases their social status. In this respect, saltrakers and saltmakers can be compared to, for example, Melanesian farmers who are constantly involved in magic to increase the production of their fields (Malinowski 1935) or iron smelters in Afr ica (Merwe and Avery 1987) These highly specialized routines also involve many factors that influence production, and uncertainty about its outcome is negotiated by increased

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143 symbolic behavior. Schmidt (1997) discusses in detail the importance of gender r elations and sexuality for iron smelters in Africa and argues that many technical difficulties are attributed to superstition and ideology, such as women breaking menstruation taboos or men engaging in sexual activities during important episodes of iron sm elting. 5.5 Conclusion This chapter argued that material qualities of objects, in this case salt, structure persistence of certain symbolic connotations with salt is t he foundation of the widespread distribution of specific symbolic references to salt. This discussion shows how the transformation from material qualities to mental concepts of the world are created and maintained through practices. Because salt structures practices in a very particular way, ideological connotations are relatively similar in different contexts. The examples provided here emphasize how practices involved in salt produce the foundation for certain ideological structures. The argument here has mainly focused on how practices on a microscale, restricted and confined by the material qualities of salt, inform structures on the macroscale. As discussed, material qualities of salt structure practices in such pervasive ways that in many different soc ieties relations between salt, continuity, durability, fertility and sexuality emerged as important symbols. These macroscalar idioms and symbolic references, once in place, reflect back onto practices on the microscale. Ideas of continuity, durability, fe rtility and sexuality now informed behavior and how practices were performed. The potential power of salt through salt was simultaneously informed and guided by ideas of social reproduction, fertility and

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144 continuity. The material qualities inform idealist qualities, reinvesting these physical aspects with social references. Chapters 3, 4 and 5 all discuss how the material qualities of salt inform multiple because of the benefits salt has for the negotiation of power and social status. The remaining chapters in this study focus on a case study and inform on how these qualities of salt are culturally engrained in a specific context. So far, the argument is very general and explains how important salt is, but now its application will focus on MC 6, an archaeological site on Middle Caicos, Turks & Caicos Islands. This case study illustrates how these general socialities are enmeshed within a prehistoric Caribbean context.

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145 CHAPTER 6 THE PREHISTORY OF TH E CARIBBEAN This chapter describes the general cultural background of the Caribbean region and introduces the context of the archaeological site MC 6, the subject of the next two chapters. First, a short description of preh istoric migrations into the Caribbean archipelago illuminates processes of initial colonization. Second, migrations and pottery styles are discussed in more detail for the Bahamian archipelago to provide a solid context into which MC 6 is placed. Furthermo re, this description provides a typical example of how a culture historical paradigm is applied to the region. This approach is incompatible with the practice oriented relationist approach that is followed in the subsequent chapters. Finally, the shortcomi ngs of the culture historical approach are evaluated and a new perspective is set forth. A practice oriented relationist approach overcomes the shortcomings of a culture historical perspective and explains the archaeological record in a detailed manner tha t places people first. This chapter illustrates, in comparison to the subsequent chapters, how different these approaches are. 6.1 Caribbean Culture History The first migration into the Caribbean archipelago began around 5000 B.C.E. This was relatively lat e, considering that people inhabited the surrounding region thousands of years before. Most likely, navigation from the mainland into the Caribbean region was a physical barrier. These first migrants did not leave a vast quantity of material culture behind and sites have only been recognized on Cuba, Hispaniola and Puerto Rico (Rodrguez Ramos et al. 2010; Rouse 1992) Artifacts are chert blades, resembling contemporaneous Belizean stone tool assemblages, suggesting a possible migration

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146 from the Yucatan pen insula into the Caribbean islands (Wilson 2007) Rouse (1992) refers to these people as Casimiroid and has assigned multiple subgroups, depending on small differences between artifact assemblages. This period is called the lithic age. Figure 6 1 C ircum C aribbean region The next period, starting around 3000 B.C.E., with a new ground stone technology in the archaeological record, is called the archaic age. According to Rouse (1992) the introduction of a new technique equals the introduction of new people. He proposes Trinidad as a likely place of origin, because this technology was locally in use around 6000 B.C.E. Keegan (2013) rightfully points out that this difference of 3000 years in association with the uncritical assumption that a new technology repre sents a new

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147 migration is an argument that undermine this line of reasoning. Yet, these changes occur and the archaeological record shows a time of relative stability afterwards. 1 The relative stability changes considerably around 500 B.C.E., when a new mig ration of people reaches the islands. This new migration is characterized by a pottery style called Saladoid. This highly elaborate pottery is of high quality, thin and easily recognized by white on red, white on black and zone incised crosshatching design s (Keegan 2000; Rouse 1992) Artifacts with similar designs and production techniques are found along the Orinoco River pointing to the South American mainland as the most likely candidate for its origins. The earliest dates in the Caribbean region that a re associated with these Saladoid deposits come from the Northern Lesser Antilles and Puerto Rico, indicating other islands along the chain were bypassed during early voyages (Haviser 1997) Saladoid pottery shows relative homogeneity across the whole reg ion, which is interpreted as a lingua franca and a veneer reflecting close cultural connections between distanced communities (Keegan 2000) Differences were subsumed over similarities and people emphasized social cohesion between groups (Keegan 2000, 200 9; Morsink 2010, 2011) In a situation of new migration from South America, continued contact with the place of origin is crucial when conditions suddenly change and endanger the continuity of the group. Strong social relations with villages in a less prec arious setting provide insurance for people exploring new environments and establishing new villages (Keegan 2000; Kirch 2002; Morsink 2011) This sudden expansion from South America is associated with the Arawak diaspora (Heckenberger 2002, 2005) Beside s the movement of people, the Arawak 1 For a current discussion on migrations into the Caribbean region, see Keegan (2013).

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148 (Heckenberger 2002:111) including (1) settled village life, (2) institutionalized social hierarchy, and (3) a tendency to form vast regional societies labeled as regionality (Heckenberger 2002; Santos Granero 2002) This Arawak diaspora is, therefore, more than just the migration of new people into a new area, introducing a language and pottery style, but a cultural process that includes vastly differe nt practices that are previously unrecorded in the Caribbean region. Keegan (2013, n.d.) argues that the rapid migration of people into the Caribbean follows a process of Arawakization. The introduction of Saladoid pottery is normally perceived as a sudden migration of multiple groups of people settling the islands, but Keegan proposes that migrating men from the South American mainland infiltrated previous archaic villages and populations. This process, described by Max Schmidt (1917) from ethnographic exa mples in Arawak villages, follows a very specific pattern. Arawak men migrate into an already existing non Arawak village and introduce new technology, including pottery and agriculture. A shift towards agriculture creates a relation of dependency, as agri cultural practices and knowledge are held by the infiltrator. Rapidly, local people adapt the new way of living and the infiltrator establishes a position of power. Keegan (n.d.) proposes similar processes in early Caribbean villages. Although this process of Arawak enculturation of local people is a plausible explanation of the rapid dispersion of these cultural features across the region, it does not explain why this migration never enters eastern Hispaniola. Although Saladoid pottery has been recorded fr om eastern Hispaniola, Hofman (personal communication

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149 2009) suggests that these samples are actually from Puerto Rico. Hofman did not find any Saladoid pottery from secure deposits and all artifacts seem to come from private collections with unknown proven ience. The halt in migration has been attributed to antagonism between Saladoid people and Archaic populations on Hispaniola. Differences between these two groups are perceived to delay the introduction of pottery and other cultural features (Rouse 1992) It is not until approximately 600 C.E. that subsequent changes occur and a material separation is noticed between the Lesser and the Greater Antilles. In the Lesser Antilles, Troumassoid pottery appears, which develops into Suazoid after 1000 C.E. The qua lity of these pottery styles is significantly less than Saladoid materials and ceramic vessels are thicker, less decorated and painted designs vanish almost completely. Suazoid pottery in particular is of notable low quality. Both Troumassoid and Suazoid s tyles do not show any homogeneity across different regions and more local relations are emphasized. In general, other material correlates of social identity, such as houses, heirlooms and burials, become more important and pottery withdraws from the social arena as an important symbol (Morsink 2011) The traditional perspective of cultural developments in the Greater Antilles perceives Ostionoid pottery as a development from Saladoid in Puerto Rico (Rouse 1992) but Keegan (2006) argues that developments on Hispaniola have a distinct origin and emerge out of local practices by archaic people already on the island. Ostionoid is not a linear progression from Saladoid, but a separate style with a different culture background. In either case the quality of the p ottery decreases and overall designs reduce to red paint. Also, vessel shapes change from bell shaped pots in Saladoid

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150 times to boat shaped vessels and straight sided bowls (Keegan 2000; Rouse 1992) The style that developed out of Saladoid is called Ostio nan Ostionoid. Besides changes in pottery styles, settlement patterns seem to diverge in multiple smaller settlements (Curet 2005; Torres 2011) and other communal spaces, such as plazas, start to arise in the landscape (Curet and Stringer 2010; Curet and T orres 2010; Oliver 1998; Torres 2010, 2011) In conjunction with cultural developments in the Lesser Antilles, Ostionoid pottery also shows many regional characteristics and dissimilarities. A number of regional variations received other names, as these c learly demarcate different groupings of artifacts. First, Elenan Ostionoid is produced in eastern Puerto Rico, Virgin Islands and Northern Lesser Antilles and is contemporaneous with Ostionan Ostionoid of western (R ouse 1992:32) these two groups are separated by space. Elenan Ostionoid is further differentiated in an early Cuevas style and a later Santa Elena style and continue up until contact. Further to the west, Meillacan Ostionoid is found on western Hispaniol a (often associated with contemporary Haiti), Jamaica and Cuba. Meillacan pottery is modeled and incised, thin and of a high quality. Although Meillac pottery found in north east Haiti, around the contemporary village of Meillac, after which this style is named, is red, this style is mainly characterized by its dark black color. The color difference is a result of reduced firing conditions, where red is produced in oxygen rich and black in reduced firing conditions. This style emerges around 1000 C.E. and i s produced until contact, but has antecedents as early as 350 B.C.E.

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151 Around 1200 C.E., Chican Ostionoid pottery appears in the archaeological record, mainly in Hispaniola. This pottery style is characterized by elaborate vessel forms, incised, modeled and punctate designs, very few red painted wares and white slipped bottles. This pottery style is associated with the Classic Tano, the people Columbus encountered on Hispaniola. Ethnohistoric sources describe chiefs, or caciques in the region, indicating so cial stratification and institutionalized hierarchical relations. It is assumed that complex social organization emerged at the same time as this pottery style. Although Hispaniola was the heartland for the Tano and their Chican pottery, Chican designs on pottery and shell are found on Cuba, Puerto Rico, The Bahamas and the Lesser Antilles. This regional distribution indicates the power that these caciques had within the region and were able to disperse their control far from the villages where they lived. 6.2 The Bahamian Archipelago The earliest dates for human occupation in the Bahamian archipelago are 700 C.E. (Berman and Gnivecki 1995; Keegan 1992, 1997, 2007) Seafaring obviously did not provide any difficulties for the people inhabiting the Greater A ntilles, but no evidence of people in the region is found until this relatively late date. Throughout the Antilles people moved and settled islands, but the Bahamian archipelago was left alone. However, at the time of contact multiple settlements on most i slands and cays show clear evidence of human occupation. The short period of time in this archaeological record of approximately 800 years is very dynamic. This section describes the context in which MC 6 was founded and became an important settlement in t he region.

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152 Figure 6 2 Bahamian Archipelago The earliest evidence of people in the Bahamas comes from two sites in the region, namely the Three Dog site on San Salvador in the central Bahamas and the Coralie site (GT 3) on Grand Turk in the Turks & Caicos Islands. Radiocarbon dates from both villages indicate that people were occupying these regions around the same time, namely 700 C.E. Both sites are situated in close proximity to the sea and excavations yielded a substantial amount of archaeological mate rial. Settlement location suggests that exploitation of marine resources was the primary objective of these voyages. Despite the similarity in dates and current political or geographical backgrounds, the two sites differ vastly and past identities do not o verlap with contemporary borders.

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153 The materials recovered from both locations demarcate independent processes of colonization. Both sites are in the Bahamian archipelago, but the people and cultural affiliation that these people exhibit strongly suggest th at these people and processes of colonization had little to do with one another. It might be the case that these groups of people, who took long all. These sites are discussed independently. 6.2 .1 Three Dog Site, San Salvador The Three Dogs site is situated on the southwestern edge of San Salvador, directly above Loaf Bay. The site is partially destroyed by storm activity, prohibiting a (Berman and Gn ivecki 1991) Although storm activity did partially destroy the site, it also exposed archaeological remains, including bone, pottery and shell. Fresh water might have been locally available and a historic well is located close to the prehistoric settlemen t. Although the site shows evidence for prolonged activity at this location, it is unclear if this was year round or only seasonal (Berman and Gnivecki 1991, 1995) A number of prehistoric activities are recognized from archaeological remains. First, the s ite yielded evidence for specialized activities such as bead making and wood working. Second, griddle sherds, graters and a hoe suggest that manioc or other crops were locally produced and harvested, showing that people stayed at least a period of time. F inally, untempered clay discs and coils also indicate that pottery was made locally and support the idea that materials from this site represent long term visits (Berman and Gnivecki 1991) Materials associated with bead making might lead to the conclusion that this location was targeted for a specific purpose, but other data point to a more mundane use of the site.

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154 Of special interest is the pottery assemblage at this site. Of the 718 sherds larger than 1 cm 2 555 are locally classified as Palmetto Ware (o r Palmettan Ostionoid). This pottery style is made from local clay deposits of aeolian African dusts carried across the Atlantic Ocean. Burned shell, often Strombus gigas, is used as temper in absence of volcanic deposits prominent in Hispaniolan and Cuban samples. Furthermore, the shell temper is large and even shell pieces larger than 1 cm occur. The pottery is relatively thick and crude. Griddles sometimes show impressions of basketry on the bottom, a characteristic that is not found in any other style i n the Caribbean region (Berman and Hutcheson 2000; Hutcheson 1999, in press) The quality of the pottery is very poor, caused by low firing temperatures. Granberry and Winter (1993) differentiate three substyles Abaco Redware, Crooked Island Ware, and Pa lmetto Ware but the distinctions are rarely followed. The term Palmetto Ware will be used here as a generic term for the shell tempered redware common at these sites. The contrast between this local Bahamas pottery and imports from Hispaniola and Cuba is vast. But the early date of Three Dogs also indicates that people on San Salvador relatively quickly focused their attention to locally available resources after initial colonization. If the production of this distinct style was a conscious break with the ir place of origin or an unconscious and unintended consequences because some resources are absent in the Bahamas is unknown. In any case, people produced a local Bahamian arc hipelago at contact. The Three Dog site is the earliest evidence of Palmetto Ware in the region and has been dated to approximately 700 C.E. Berman and Gnivecki (1995) link the pottery found at Three Dog site to Cuba. Reduced firing

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155 conditions characterist ic of the pottery is similar to firing techniques recognized at the Arroyo de Palo on Cuba. This argues that the production technique of Palmetto Ware is similar to wares from Mayari in north eastern Cuba. Despite the differences in clays and tempers, the techniques of making and firing pots are so close that Cuba is a likely place of origin of its producers (Berman and Gnivecki 1991, 1995) Figure 6 3 Palmetto Ware rims. The red color is best seen at a fresh break, as the bottom right sample shows. Also notice the shell temper in this specimen. 6.2.2 Coralie Site, Grand Turk The Coralie site is 450 km south east of San Salvador, on the northern part of Grand Turk. This part of the island is dissected by an inlet and lagoon called North Creek, dividing a w estern and eastern part. The east is a limestone ridge approximately 10 m high, while the western part is formed by a sand dune. The Coralie site is located on the sand dune, just south of where the lagoon connects to the Atlantic Ocean. This settlement pr ovided easy access to both the lagoon and the ocean and was in close

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156 proximity to a seasonal well that has contained potable water for at least the last 300 years (Carlson 1999; Keegan 1997) Figure 6 4 Turks & Caicos Islands and surrounding region The l agoon is an excellent microenvironment for the exploitation of resources. First, the constant influx of water from the ocean prohibits the lagoon from drying out or salt concentrations getting too high for fish, turtles and mollusks. Second, the lagoon is protected and relatively calm compared to the ocean. Third, these natural inlets sometimes function as natural traps for certain animals. Animals that enter the lagoon through the small entrance sometimes cannot find the exit and are trapped. Archaeologica l excavations at Spanish Water, Curaao, revealed earbones or periotica of at least 41 dolphins, which were likely trapped within the lagoon and caught and butchered on the banks (Hoogland and Hofman 2011)

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157 First signs of human presence at this site are da ted to cal 705 C.E. and continue until approximately 1100 C.E. (Carlson 1999; Keegan 1997) All pottery, more than 1800 sherds, is classified as Ostionan Ostionoid and contains mineral and sand temper unavailable on limestone islands like Grand Turk. Local production is absent and products must have been imported from adjacent Hispaniola or Cuba. In addition, most sherds lack a dark core, whereas sherds on Hispaniola often do show this feature. The d cracks and breaks are more likely to occur. A possible explanation is that these pots were over used and placed over fires for longer times than in Hispaniola. The cost of transportation forced people to keep using these pots over and over until they cra cked or broke after their integrity was reduced (Keegan 1997:21) Although crude wares are present, a number of vessels are of high quality and display elaborate designs. Boat from Hispaniola as well as red painted sherds that were recovered. One effigy bowl represents a turtle that also corresponds to Ostionan Ostionoid style. The presence of griddles is indicative of at least simple preparation of food. Both stylistic properties and the presence of mineral and sand temper point to Hispaniola, only 120 km to the south, as the place of origin for these first settlers (Keegan 1997:21 22) The faunal material from the site is even more impressive than the pottery. A large amount of turtles, mainly green turtle ( Chelonia mydas ), iguanas ( Cyclura carinata ) and fish were targeted by people at Coralie. Also, a native tortoise ( Geochelone sp.) that was previously unknown to the island and is similar in appearance to the Galapagos tortoise, was exploited. Most fish were large, between 5 and 20 kg. Invertebrates are

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158 scarce, except for conch ( Strombus gigas ). The carapace of a green sea turtle was locally used to prepare meals and found overlaying multiple hearths in the deposits at Coralie (Carlson 1999; Keegan 1 997, 2007) This faunal assemblage is indicative of the devastating effects on local fauna by overexploitation during initial human colonization. The native tortoise is extinct and was unknown before these archaeological finds. Furthermore, iguana bones ar e giant in earlier deposits but significantly decrease in size in later periods. Finally, large fish were targeted in earlier phases too, but even those seem to get smaller as time progresses. Initial colonists obviously targeted the large species and cons umed them locally (Carlson and Keegan 2004) Export is difficult to assess, but some products must have Depositional processes at Coralie also indicate that habitation was most likely seasonal and shor t term (Carlson 1999) Artifacts are distributed over a wide area, approximately 200 x 50 m, in relatively shallow deposits only 50 centimeter thick. This is contrary to what one might expect from a formal 400 year old village that is occupied year round a nd has designated refuse or midden areas. However, the excavation yielded at least one permanent structure of some sort. In one area, postholes are encountered in a semi structured fashion, leading Keegan (1997:24) to suggest that a structure at least 15 m long was erected at Coralie. Although the exact relation between these postholes and an actual structure remain unclear, these postholes do represent some (semi ) permanent investment in the local setting by people visiting the site. The archaeological m aterial from Coralie shows that people were continuously visiting this site over an extended period of time, but never established a true colony of

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159 year round inhabitants. The primary goal of these people was extracting the rich resources available on Gran d Turk and transporting these riches to Hispaniola (Carlson 1999; Keegan 1997) Locally, people also feasted or at least consumed part of the ped visiting the site. Early Ostionan pottery not only disappears from Grand Turk, but in the region as a whole including Hispaniola, and these groups adopted other styles of pottery. 6.2.3 A Second Wave of Colonists Around 1000 or 1100 C.E., significant c hanges occur in the archaeological record. While local Palmetto Ware spread throughout the archipelago, Meillac making people occasionally visited the region. Although the Coralie site was abandoned by Ostionan Ostionoid people around 1100 C.E., another si te on Grand Turk, Governor Beach (GT 2), was established. All but one sherd from this site was of the Meillacan style, showing a clear change in the cultural affiliation of people who utilized resources at this site. The one non Meillacan sherd was Ostiona n, which could be interpreted as some interaction with the final occupants of Coralie. Governor Beach is located next to the only other potable water source on Grand Turk. Access to water must have been important, but this pattern suggests that people acti (Keegan 2007) This break with the past is also recognized by archaeological materials other than pottery. Governors Beach was a bead workshop and specialized craft production was the main activity. Es pecially the Thorny Jewelbox shell ( Chama sarda ) was procured and shaped into disc shaped beads. These shells are known for the brilliant red color

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160 which they maintain for many centuries after they die. Conch, for example, loses its pink shine in a decade, but the Thorny Jewelbox shells that were recovered from Grand Turk were bright red, even after at least 500 years of burial. In total, approximately 1,500 complete beads and 4,400 partially finished or broken beads were found during archaeological fieldwo rk. Other shells show evidence of use as manufacturing tools for these beads, such as knappers and anvils made of conch ( Strombus gigas ) (Carlson 1993; Keegan 2007:88) Governor Beach is also classified as a seasonal camp rather than a year round village. Codakia orbicularis for example, were all collected during the dry season, which is a relatively quiet time of the year in agricultural societies (Keegan 2007:89) Furthermore, just like Coralie, the pottery assemblage is of very high quality and relative ly few sherds are classified as purely use objects. Elaborate designs and at least two effigy bowls echo similar high prestige items from Coralie, but the pottery style and designs are completely different. At Governor Beach, one effigy bowl resembles a po rcupine fish, which is known for its toxicity and is used as a hallucinogenic (Keegan 2007:89) A possible reason why Meillacan people visited these islands, besides bead production, is the exploitation of marine resources. The archaeological record from le significantly smaller marine resources than the ones discovered on Grand Turk around 1000 C.E. The samples from Coralie point to 5 20 kg per fish, while samples from le Rat range from 1 2 kg per fish. Overfishing of local resources might have been the result of increasing demands of larger population sizes on the mainland of Hispaniola,

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161 but the significant difference between the two samples indicate that environment al stress was already present at 1000 C.E. Carlson (1993) found a large amount of cranial elements of grunts in the sample from Governors Beach and interpreted this as evidence for preparation practices for transport to Hispaniola. The spawning season for Margate grunt, the most commonly identified fish, is from September to April. This would increase fishing yields, but grunts can be caught year round and this is not a specific indication of seasonality, although it does overlap with the Codakia orbiculari s data on seasonality. Meillacan and Ostionan people obviously differed in their reasons for visiting Grand Turk. While earlier camps exploited the abundance of marine and terrestrial resources on Grand Turk, extinction of certain species and the decrease in abundance of others, mainly large animals, directed attention to other available resources, such as the Thorny Jewelbox shell. Ostionan people focused on food, while Meillacan people emphasized bead production. Besides the fact that pottery is imported on both the Coralie and Governor Beach site and that the pottery vessels that are found are generally of high quality and elaborate, these two sites are evidence for a change through time in the use of resources on Grand Turk (Carlson and Keegan 2004) One final observation of Governor Beach is needed. The site shows signs of sudden disruption and abandonment. Approximately 400 complete beads were thrown into a fire and the elaborate effigy bowls seems to have been purposefully destroyed and scattered. Piec es of one bat pot were found in three different places. Also, a Charonia variegata ) was intensively used and worn to such a degree that it is possible to see how this instrument was originally used. The raised surfaces

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162 were worn flat wher e the individual fingers touched the shell. This wear occurred only in those places and by putting your fingers on the worn spots you could produce a sound by blowing the trumpet. These are all extremely valuable objects and would not have been left behind without a reason. Keegan (2007:90) argues there was a battle and that these people were driven away from the island back to Hispaniola. The group responsibl e for this episode of panic was according to Keegan (2007) Lucayans from nearby islands. Recent r esearch has identified another Meillacan bead making workshop on the north side of the island. The site is located on the other side of the peninsula from Coralie. One of the test pits yielded a tiny sherd that might be classified as Palmetto ware. Faunal remains are predominantly grunt and parrotfish, likely a product of local consumption practices. Six whole beads, 18 broken beads and 44 pieces of bead making debitage were recovered. Chama sarda is the predominant shell that was used for these beads, but other shells, including conch ( Strombus gigas ) were present as well. Two radiocarbon samples, one charcoal and one conch shell, were dated and place the site in the 14 th century (Carlson 2010) The archaeological evidence on Grand Turk suggests a distinct break between Ostionan Ostionoid and Meillacan Ostionoid times. The two pottery styles are not only distinct in appearance, but occur in different times, and people visited the island for different reasons. This distinct break between Ostionan and Meillaca n traditions is also recognized in Jamaica where Ostionan sites also predate Meillacan finds and there is little evidence for interaction (Allsworth Jones 2008; Keegan and Atkinson 2006)

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163 Table 6 1 Radiocarbon dates from GT 3 and GT 4 (Carlson 2010:13; Ca rlson and Keegan 2004) Site Beta # Material Conventional C14 Age (BP) Calibrated 2 Sigma (AD) 95% probability GT 3 80911 Charcoal/Wild Lime 1280 +/ 60 650 885 GT 3 93912 Shell 1170 +/ 60 665 905 GT 3 98698 Charcoal 1230 +/ 60 670 970 GT 3 80910 Charc oal Palm 1160 +/ 60 720 1105 GT 3 61151 Charcoal 1120 +/ 120 650 1160 GT 3 114924 Charcoal 1120+/ 50 800 1015 GT 3 98697 Charcoal 1010 +/ 50 970 1165 GT 3 93913 Shell 930 +/ 60 895 1145 GT 3 96700 Wood cf. Bullwood 940 +/ 60 995 1125 GT 3 98699 Char coal 900 +/ 50 1040 1215 GT 3 1l2311 Wood Andira Modem GT 4 276523 charcoal 680+/ 40 1270 1320 AND 1350 130 GT 4 276524 Conch shell 1120+/ 50 280 1490 Grand Turk never harbored year round inhabitants. The lack of available potable water throughout th e year might have been a constraining element. The settlement locations of all archaeological sites seem to have targeted the two seasonal wells that are present on the island. Potable water was a factor in making settlement location choices. Although the lack of a continuous source of water is a plausible cause for the absence of year round villages, this completely fails to explain why imported pottery is predominant in these settlements. So far, only one Palmetto Ware sherd has been recovered, while plen ty of high quality Ostionan and Meillacan pottery is found. Transportation should not have been an issue, because Lucayan villages that are dominated by Palmetto Ware are found in close proximity to the island. Furthermore, Palmetto Ware is found on Middle Caicos by 1000 C.E., which means that there is an overlap of 200 300 years with Meillacan sites on Grand Turk. It is unclear why this pattern of ceramic traditions is structured in such a way that local pottery from the Bahamian archipelago is absent on G rand Turk.

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164 This also directs attention to neighboring islands. Across the Turks Islands Passage, 35 km to the west, the Caicos bank harbors a number of larger islands and keys. From east to west, the larger islands include South Caicos, East Caicos, Middle Caicos, North Caicos, Pine Cay, Providenciales and West Caicos. The archaeological evidence from these islands shows, again, a very distinct pattern. Surveys by Shaun Sullivan in the 1970s yielded no sites on South and East Caicos, only one site on Pine C ay and two sites on Providenciales. However, Sullivan found seven sites on Middle Caicos (Sears and Sullivan 1978) This led Sullivan to reevaluate Middle Caicos and a more intensive survey increased this number to 35 sites for this island (Sullivan 1981) Subsequent research provided more evidence for archaeological sites on other islands, but Middle Caicos still stands out and must have been the most important island in the region (Keegan 1997:33) Table 6 2 Approximate l and area, open air and cave sites in the Caicos Islands. List compiled by G.A. Aarons, Bahamas Department of Archives, and Brian Riggs, Turks & Caicos National museum. Adopted from Keegan (1997:33) Island Approximate Land Area (km 2 ) Open air site Cave site South Caicos 8 7 0 East Caicos 37 2 4 Middle Caicos 50 36 8 North Caicos 36 9 4 Providenciales 15 9 2 West Caicos 8 3 2 Other Caicos 5 10 2 However, not all sites can be compared, as some, like MC 3, only yielded one large undecorated imported sherd in an 8 cm deep fire pit (Sul livan 1981:130) whereas other sites are large settlements. Furthermore, large settlements can also be the product of long term practices of revisiting the same location, moving horizontally through the landscape. Short term visits of a small group of peop le throughout many

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165 years results in a palimpsest, which at first sight, seems to be one large village. This is, for example, the case for the Clifton site on New Providence, the Bahamas (Vernon 2007) and sites on Grand Turk. Five large sites, MC 6, MC 8/10 MC 12, MC 32 and MC 36 have been identified on Middle Caicos through intensive survey and excavation. Either Palmetto Ware or Meillacan pottery is predominant and all postdate 1000 C.E. Hence, it took multiple centuries after the initial arrival of peopl e in the region before larger villages were established. In addition, attention was redirected to Middle Caicos rather than Grand Turk, where the first people went. These sites were part of changing dynamics within the region and set the stage for MC 6 to become the dominant settlement in the Turks & Caicos Islands. Little work has been done at MC 36 and its size and potential importance are solely based on the surface scatter, located near the contemporary village of Conch Bar, but MC 8/10, MC 12 and MC 32 are discussed in further detail here. MC 6 will be discussed in the next chapters. MC 8/10. MC 8 and 10 were first recognized by Sullivan in his extensive survey of Middle Caicos. Located in the southwest of the island, the sites border the salina. The salina is a vast flat plain of wet land between the permanent dry land of Middle Caicos and the Caicos Bank. Occasionally, the salina floods completely when storms come in from the south or tide is higher than normal. From the edge of permanent dry land to the edge of the water is approximately 6 km, but there is less than 25 cm difference in elevation (Keegan 2007:142) The lack of direct access to the Caicos Bank is unexpected for people who heavily rely on canoe transportation.

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166 Figure 6 5 Middle Caico s with contemporary villages and important archaeological sites Valds (1994, cited in Keegan 2007:142), however, argues that average sea This suggests that the salina was completely inundated and the sea reached the permanent dry land. Furthermore, major storms and hurricanes are capable of moving large amounts of sediments into new locations and removing them elsewhere. Nowadays, fishermen in the islands comment on the imp act of these storms and how they affect navigation (Sinelli 2010:41) The salina could have been the result of one or more major storms that deposited large amounts of sediment against the south coast of the island. Finally, if sea levels are raised to the edge of dry land in a Digital Elevation Model (DEM) of the island, then suddenly all sites in the southern part of Middle Caicos are located on the shore, even sites that are today located inland. It is, therefore, safe to Salina

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167 assume that both MC 8 and MC 10 were directly approachable by boat from the Caicos Bank and analysis of Armstrong Pond, presented in Chapter 7, supports this conclusion. Both sites are located in close proximity of one another and are separated by only 70 m. Site dimensions, as recorded by Sullivan (1981) based on surface scatters are, 110x160 m for MC 8 and 160x80m for MC 10. Over 2,500 sherds were collected and well over 90% were Meillacan and of Hispaniolan origin. Petrographic analysis points more specifically to the Fort Liberte are a on the north coast of Haiti (Cordell 1998) Sullivan (1981) first recognized a stone alignment at MC 8, but subsequent research resulted in its rejection. At MC 10, Sullivan recognized a square pattern in the vegetation that was different from surroundin g areas and bordered by a square arrangement of rocks. The square area was interpreted as a plaza and the stone alignment as the foundation of a structure. These data, according to Sullivan (1981) suggest long term habitation. However, subsequent research indicated that deposits on both sites are relatively shallow, rejecting the idea that these are long term villages. The deepest stratum yielded charcoal, which dates to cal 1130 50 C.E. Furthermore, both sites are only separated by a former tidal inlet that was recognized in the field (Sinelli 2001) Aster DEM underlines the existence of this inlet, as does Landsat 7 imagery that isolates infrared as an indication of soil hydration and vegetation. Sinelli, therefore, concluded that MC 8 and MC 10 are jus t two components of the same site that are situated across from each other, with a tidal inlet in between.

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168 Figure 6 6 Satellite, DEM and Tasseled Cap Greenness (TCG) maps for southeast Middle Caicos. DEM shows light inlet in between green ridges to the s outh of Armstrong Pond. TCG shows health of vegetation as a representation of underlying vegetation. This shows different vegetation where inlet of MC 8/10 would have been situated. Activities at the site copy Meillacan sites at Grand Turk and bead making is the dominant occupation. People at MC 8/10 collected Thorny Jewelbox shell ( Chama sarda ) and processed them into disc shaped beads, resembling GT 2 and GT 4. The

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169 rich Caicos Bank was exploited for its marine resources as well and fishing must have been part of the attraction of this location (Keegan 2007; Sinelli 2001) Another possible activity, the collecting of salt from the nearby Armstrong Pond, is rejected by Keegan (2007) This site, just like Governor Beach and GT 4 on Grand Turk, was a seasonal camp for bead production and exploitation of marine resources. Keegan (2007) rejects the idea of seasonal salt exploitation for a number of reasons. First, settlement location is not at the closest location from the pond and, for example, the location for MC 6 would have been more optimal. Second, if Meillacan people at MC 8/10 copied practices of the people on Grand Turk and visited during the same time of the year, namely spring, salt would not have been available. Although salt could be collected in May, the connection between the salina and the pond would significantly dilute the salinity levels and prevent salt production. MC 12 Recent development on Middle Caicos has destroyed MC 12 completely, but Sullivan (1981) surveyed the area and excavated a l arge part of the settlement. Sullivan (1981) recognized the site by contemporary vegetation. As with so many other sites on the island, archaeological deposits were often associated with guinea grass (vegetation changed significantly on the island since Su association cannot be transferred into a present day context). The pattern of the guinea grass is a large elongated oval of 115x50 m. The site is located near Bambarra, a small village near the center of the island. Situated on the south end of the archaeological site, a small fresh water pond might have provided the villagers with potable water. The materials recovered from MC 12 are different from those at MC 8/10. Although surface collection resulted in an artifact assemblage in w hich 29% of the

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170 vessels were imported, a test excavation yielded 201 sherds and less than 5% were of non local origin. This lower percentage was found during excavations conducted in 1982, but unfortunately the field notes from these excavations were lost (Keegan 2007) The vast majority of the pottery was Palmetto Ware, the locally produced pottery from the Bahamian archipelago. Both Chican and Meillacan designs are among the imported sherds, which means that Chican pottery from Hispaniola is now imported as well. One date was recovered, cal 1142 excavations in 1991 prior to the construction of a new road, but these were on the southern margins of the site and yielded few artifacts. The faunal material is m ainly reef fish. Parrotfish are most abundant and were the major target, but jack, porcupine fish, bonefish, grunt and grouper were caught as well. Three iguanas were identified and one dog. A dog is a non native species and must have been brought by the p eople living at MC 12. Mollusks include conch, West Indian top shells, tellins, tiger lucines, etc. These faunal remains are typical of Lucayan settlements which predominantly exploited reef fish and mollusks throughout the Bahamian islands (Keegan 2007:13 9 140) During subsequent research at MC 12, before bulldozers destroyed the site, Sullivan found a structure. Although the results have never been published, Keegan (2007:140) a participant in the 1982 excavations, states that in a 10x10 m excavation fiv e post stains were found. These post stains were regularly spaced at 3 m interval in a circle and most likely represented the outer ring of a house. The inner space within the postholes was hard compacted sand and felt like cement; a stamped house floor. B oth the developer and locals from Bambarra reported that they found greenstone axes at

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171 the site, but all were found after the site was destroyed. Although destroyed, it was concluded that MC 12 was a large (semi )permanent Lucayan village on Middle Caicos that was established around 1000 C.E. MC 32 MC 32 is located to the east of MC 12, approximately 1 km east of the present Bambarra landing. The site measures approximately 150x100 m and surface collection yielded 286 sherds, of which 67 (23%) were import s. As with MC 12, the ratio of import local went down significantly from subsurface test excavation. Of the 180 sherds from a 1x1 m, only 8% (n=14) were imported. Style for these imported wares is not described by Sullivan (1981) because they lacked decor ation and archaeology at that time did not have specific criteria for distinguishing these styles in absence of decorative elements. Faunal remains are again typical of a Lucayan settlement. Parrotfish are the dominant fish and mollusks are present as well Sullivan (1981) did find a large number of conch shells close to the site, probably shell debris as the result of meat extraction from the conch. Another local resource that was exploited was salt, as the ridge on which MC 32 is located separates the sea from a salt pond. People in Bambarra were still collecting salt here when Sullivan was doing his research. It is possible that this pond was also used as a pen in times that salinity levels were lower and fish and conch could survive in this environment ( Keegan 2007; Sullivan 1981) Throughout the 1990s and in 2000, Keegan and colleagues tested the site in further detail. Soil analysis limited the site area to 70x40m (Roth 2002) In the middle of the site, dense midden deposits yielded large sherds and int act deposits of a number of individual fishes, meaning that the site is minimally disturbed. During the 1993 transect,

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172 1,957 sherds were collected (13% import) and the 2000 excavations yielded another 320 sherds (64 imports). Both Meillacan and Chican moti fs were encountered. Furthermore, Keegan (2007:167) mentions that a large percentage of the Palmetto Ware pottery from MC 32 is decorated, quite unusual for this pottery style. Most of Palmetto Ware pottery is plain (Sears and Sullivan 1978) but the sampl e from MC 32 shows incision, punctuation and matt impressed designs on the bottom of griddles and bowls. Charcoal from the center of the site yielded a date of cal 129050 C.E., which suggests it was a village contemporaneous with MC 12. The status of this site as a settlement, however, is questioned by materials recovered in the excavations. The large amount of decorated and large pieces of pottery, the high incidence of imported wares compared to other Lucayan sites and the large amount of iguana and sea turtle finds that are commonly perceived as high status foods suggests that this site is a special activity area, for example for feasts, rather than a (semi ) permanent village (Keegan 2007:168) Finally, the finds of Old World rats ( Rattus rattus ), indic ate that this site was still in use after Europeans arrived in the New World. 6.2.4 Colonization of the Bahamian Archipelago The colonization of the Bahamian archipelago has been perceived as a progressively outward movement of people from Hispaniola into the region. This movement of people is completely reconstructed on the basis of pottery styles and how these styles diachronically relate to one another. Sears and Sullivan (1978) Keegan and colleagues (Keegan 1992; Keegan and Diamond 1987; Keegan and Mac lachlan 1989) and Winter et al. (1985) all state that the Turks & Caicos Islands or Great Inagua are the most likely places for early settlements. Ostionan Ostionoid and later Meillacan

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173 Ostionoid pottery found on Grand Turk and the Caicos Islands support t his view. Hence, people from the south moved into the region and transported pottery styles from the homeland, but after a number of consecutive decades/centuries in the region, people distanced themselves socially and started making a new pottery style, n amely Palmetto Ware. Granberry (1991) uses toponyms of islands in the region to reconstruct routes of migration. Grand Turk, or Abawana Aniyana Caico s Yucanacan Inagua means small Eastern Island (for a full list of Bahamian toponyms, see Granberry 1991; Granberry and Vescelius 2004) The toponym of Great Inagua indicates that people settling the island west of Great Inagua is Cuba. Granberry (1991) concludes that the is land must have been settled from Cuba. If the migration into the Turks & Caicos Islands took place from Great Inagua, then one would expect different toponyms. Especially Grand Turk, ecause it is the island that is farthest away from Great Inagua. Based on the toponyms, Granberry (1991) argues for colonization of the Turks & Caicos Islands from Hispaniola, whereas the rest of the Bahamian archipelago is settled from Cuba. Toponyms reco rded after 1492, however, are less than reliable sources for initial waves of migration. Earliest dates of occupation in the region point to 700 C.E., which is 800 years before the arrival of Europeans. In 800 years, names of islands can change

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174 and have li ttle or nothing to do with voyages and colonization of the first people in the Bahamian archipelago. Of course, these toponyms have value and do show certain relationships between different islands, but these relations could have changed significantly duri ng this time. Both Berman and Gnivecki (1995) and Keegan (2007) therefore, propose that these toponyms and geographic relations between islands represent trading networks or other long distance sets of relations, including kinship, around 1500 C.E. rather than 800 years before. Despite the difference in time between episodes of colonization and the recording of the toponyms, the directionality that some toponyms imply might indicate certain preferable navigational routes between Cuba and the central and no rth Bahamas rather than the Turks & Caicos Islands. This connection between Cuba and the Bahamas is further strengthened by the pottery from the Three Dog site. Berman and Gnivecki (1991, 1995) have consistently argued for this route as the primary episode that led to the Palmetto Ware making Lucayan people in the Bahamian archipelago. The archaeological data underlines their argument. The most conclusive evidence is pottery. The Palmetto Ware from the Three Dogs site resembles the Arroyo de Palo pottery fr om Cuba. People on San Salvador made pottery from local resources, but utilized similar technology and decoration techniques to make this local ware. This is not a radical break, but a smooth transition in which new local and unknown clay resources are use d to fabricate pottery on San Salvador. Second, the early date of 700 C.E. predates any context with Palmetto Ware in the Turks & Caicos by at least 300 years. Despite the intensive research on all these islands, radiocarbon dates consistently postdate 110 0 C.E. for Lucayan sites.

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175 Another point that argues for Cuba as the point of origin is physical distance. The distance between the part of Cuba where Arroyo de Palo pottery is found and San Salvador is 335 km, but Ragged Island, the first island between t he two on a direct route lies only 110 km off the coast of Cuba. The remaining journey could have followed shallow banks and islands, including Long Island and Rum Cay. The shortest distance from Cuba to an island in the Bahamian archipelago is 90 km north east from the far eastern tip to Great Inagua. It is, therefore, conceivable that people crossed the distance to Ragged Island and Jumentos Cays on the way to the larger islands of the Bahamas. Archaeological materials from Islas de la Reina, north of Cuba also indicate that people on Cuba were already exploiting marine resources along the north coast and smaller islands (Cooper 2007) Furthermore, Hispaniola is located significantly further away, approximately 450 km, a route that crosses multiple island s that would have been better candidates for settlement location in early episodes of colonization. Finally, microliths from San Salvador are inconclusive in relation to questions of colonization, despite the fact that lithics had to be imported and a loca l source is absent. Both the material and bipolar technique are not specific enough to differentiate between points of origin in Cuba or Hispaniola. The colonization of the central Bahamas from Cuba rather than Hispaniola is supported by recent research on computer simulated voyages in the region. Callaghan (1990, 2001, 2010, 2011) has used computer simulations for a number of issues regarding the colonization of the Caribbean, but has mainly focused on early migration from the South American mainland into the Lesser Antilles. Altes (2011b) uses SARMAP (Search And Rescue MAP) software to reconstruct possible navigation routes

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176 between the Bahamas, Cuba and Florida. This software specializes in predictive modeling of drifts of objects and missing persons at se a, but can also be used to understand the directionality of certain sea currents, winds and other dominant patterns that affect voyaging. Altes (personal communication, 2011) used the software for the Turks & Caicos Islands, the Bahamas, Cuba and Hispaniol a as well. The results show very distinct patterns. Random drifts from the Fort Libert area on Hispaniola move to the Turks & Caicos Islands. Voyages departing from more eastern locations on slands and are likely to drift to the east. Voyages from Cuba and the northwestern tip of Hispaniola mostly reach Great Inagua and very few drift to the Turks & Caicos Islands. Although this program does not consider any sort of directional voyaging, which obviously alters routes, it does support the idea that natural conditions promote different routes of navigation from Cuba and Hispaniola to the Bahamian archipelago. Both the Coralie site on Grand Turk and the Three Dog site on San Salvador yield evidenc e of the earliest wave of occupation in the Bahamian archipelago. However, the archaeological materials are so distinct, that these waves of migration must have been the product of two independent processes. People from Hispaniola periodically visited Gran d Turk to extract the rich resources that are locally available, while people from Cuba migrated to San Salvador to establish a long term village, introducing agriculture and crops into the region. While people on Grand Turk maintained strong cultural affi liation with Hispaniola and only used imported Ostionan Ostionoid pottery, people in San Salvador created an independent culture with possibly minimal influences from their place of origin, namely Cuba.

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177 A possible explanation for the relative late occupat ion of these islands comes from paleoecological data. Kjellmark (1996) analyzed a 2 Blue Hole on Andros Island and found that Andros was covered with shrubs that thrive in open dry areas. Kjellmark (1996) states that the envir onment got progressively wetter, starting around 500 C.E., and these dry shrubs were replaced by other vegetation that requires more water. This rise in precipitation might have allowed fresh water to accrue in certain lower areas for the first time in cen turies, providing the necessary potable water source for people to survive in the islands. Yet the first inhabitants of San Salvador did not migrate into the region in large numbers. The core from Andros does not show a rapid incline in charcoal until appr oximately 1350 C.E., indicating that impacts of people before that time had relatively little impact on the local environment on Andros. Around 1000 1100 C.E., local development of Palmetto Ware and Lucayan culture had gained so much precedence in the regi on, that people started to settle other areas as well. One of their major foci was Middle Caicos and multiple settlements were erected. Lucayan people and Palmetto pottery originate from the central Bahamas and then spread throughout the region (Berman and Gnivecki 1995; also Sinelli 2010) .While Ostionan Ostionoid peoples were driven away from Grand Turk by Meillacan people, Lucayan people with their Palmetto Ware took over the islands. Meillacan people were pushed back to Hispaniola and their hegemony in t he region was broken. Lucayans maintained their own culture, but interacted on a regular basis with adjacent islands. The result was that people living in the Bahamian archipelago were culturally distinct from the people the Greater Antilles when Columbus arrived in the region.

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178 This perspective breaks with Keegan (1992, 1997) and Sullivan (1981) who both argued for the Turks & Caicos Islands as the place of origin for Palmetto Ware. ch Palmetto Ware had to be a local development from Meillacan pottery, which developed from Ostionoid pottery. Because sites that exclusively contain Meillacan and Ostionoid pottery are absent in the central Bahamas, they concluded that Palmetto Ware must have originated from the Turks & Caicos Islands. Their perspective foregrounded provides a new perspective on regional developments. 6.3 Culture History in Caribbean Archa eology This discussion gives an overview of cultures and pottery styles in the Caribbean past, with an emphasis on the Bahamian archipelago. This kind of approach to the archaeological record follows a culture historical framework and traces peoples and st yles through space and time. Basically, this history of the Caribbean is minimized to a simple table where space and time are differentiated and different cultures are inserted. Culture history aims at a classification model in which artifacts and people a re categorized in distinct groupings (e.g. McKern 1939) The underlying goal is to produce an understanding of the distribution of artifacts and people through space and time. This culture historical framework is still a dominant paradigm in Caribbean arch aeology. Rouse (1965) was one of the first scholars to argue that people must be placed first in archaeological research. His solution to this problem was to emphasize ethnic complexes and people, rather than the materials these people produced. However, R ouse maintained the space time systematics as a central research objective. Rouse is the grandfather of Caribbean archaeology and his development as a scholar is

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179 intrinsically connected to his work in this region. The questions Rouse struggled with and tri ed to answer are as important as the theoretical framework he tried to promote. Caribbean archaeology, culture history and Rouse are inextricably connected and, therefore, demand consideration. Keegan (2010) provided a detailed description of these dynamic s and developments, but some comments deserve special attention here. Caribbean chiefdoms that were the result of a migration from the Andean highlands into the Caribbean basin ( Steward 1948; Steward and Faron 1959) Rouse (1953) objected to the notion that the Caribbean people moved from the Andes into the archipelago and rejected the assumption that Caribbean chiefdoms are t he result of diffusion from the Andes rather than a local development. These goals set out in his research determined his fieldwork and his theoretical framework. location where Saladoid pottery emerged, predating the Caribbean samples. As mentioned, the Saladoid migration is linked to the Arawak diaspora (Heckenberger 2002; Santos Granero 2002) and it is commonly agreed upon that these groups entered the Caribbean from the South American lowlands rather than the Andes. Although recent dates collected from the Orinoco valley might be different from the dates used by Rouse (Barse 2009) he succeeded in redirecting attention to the Tropical Lowlands for places of origins for Ca ribbean people. The perceived lack of continuous interaction between the Antilles and other

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180 chiefdoms were the outcome of local processes of social evolution and development, con tact between Caribbean and non Caribbean peoples was denied. Contact, for Rouse, was stopped after initial settlement in the region, because continued contact could result in the diffusion of chiefdoms from the Andes mountains into the lowlands and ultimat ely the Caribbean islands. Hence, Rouse only acknowledged three migrations into the region, Lithic people, Archaic people and the Ceramic people, who made Saladoid pottery. Rouse also completely ignored the Bahamas and viewed these islands as peripheral to the Caribbean. Ostionoid pottery, according to this hypothesis, must have been the outcome of local developments and could not have been introduced by another migration. Although with certain ceramic traditions this did not pose too much of a problem for Rouse, other pottery styles are significantly different from Saladoid and suggest processes other than mere local developments. Huecoid pottery from Vieques and Puerto Rico, for example, is cotemporaneous with and significantly different from Saladoid (Cha nlatte Baik and Narganes Storde 2005) but in order to maintain the hypothesis of one ceramic migration this was deemed a local development after initial introduction. Later, Rouse (1992:86 87) acknowledged that this pottery represented another migration. Other pottery styles, however, including Meillacan and Chican Ostionoid, show little similarity to Saladoid and the later Ostionoid pottery, but are always classified as subseries to the larger Ostionoid series. If Chican pottery is used to classify Tano people, and Tano chiefdoms were local developments, then, for Rouse, Chican pottery must have been a development from Saladoid peoples. To designate Meillacoid or Chicoid as a separate series would entail two more migrations of people into the region.

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181 Bec ause this argues against the original position taken by Rouse, these styles were presented as subseries and derivatives of Ostionoid pottery. His position, in opposition similarities and chronological developments. well. First, despite the incorporation of other lines of argument, pottery remains the primary indicator of separate cultures. Second, within any c culture, based primarily on the distribution of pottery through time and space, variation is almost absent. Saladoid people live in a certain way and produce certain artifacts, while Ostionoid people do things differently. Yet, all Saladoid or Ostionoid people do the same thing and basically share everything. Within one category, characteristics are similar through time and space and idiosyncrasies are unimportant for describing general trends. Third, development from one culture to the other i s linear and sequential and new traditions are immediately accepted and incorporated throughout the region. In summary, local variation and developments are neglected. started to question these assumptions. For example, contact between the Isthmo Caribb ean people came from the South American lowlands denied any relation to this region and little effort was directed to investigate communication. However, multiple studies in the last decade have shown strong similarities between the Isthmo Columbian region and certain artifacts from the Caribbean (Geurds and Broekhoven

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182 2010; Hofman and Hoogland 2011; Rodrguez Ramos and Pagn 2006, 2007) Caribbean people were not unidirectionally focused on the Orinoco valley, but maintained contact throughout the circum C aribbean basin. Another point of contention that is raised is the origins of Meillacan and Chican motifs in late prehistory. Keegan (2000, 2006) and Rodrguez Ramos et al. (2008) argue against the original hypothesis that Meillacan wares are a product of changes in pottery decoration amongst Ostionan Ostionoid peoples and cultures. They perceive the vast differences between Meillacan and Ostionan Ostionoid pottery as evidence of another local development. Rather than a product of Ostionoid people, they cla im that Meillacan pottery is produced by people with Archaic roots. In short, Ostionan Ostionoid pottery is a development from Saladoid peoples, while Meillacan wares are produced by people who inhabited Hispaniola before Saladoid people entered the archip elago. Archaic people adopted a new pottery style with their own cultural markings, which had little to do with the migration and culture of people from the Orinoco basin around 500 B.C.E. Although these critiques are warranted, it is too easy to attack Ro use and his model on questions that he never set out to answer. Without his ground breaking fieldwork and publication record, Caribbean archaeology would not be in the position it is now. His model was originally designed to trace population movements and historical developments within the Caribbean region and provide the evidence that was needed to Caribbean chiefdoms. For Rouse, test pits were sufficient to identify certain pottery styles (or people) per site or even on complete islands, and analysis was limited to a 1x1 unit. His methods were adapted to his

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183 research objective, like any other good researcher does. Although recent research from the Isthmo Columbian region and on the origins of Meillacan pottery has ind icated that more specifically with scholars who uncritically and/or unconsciously follow these assumptions and the theoretical paradigm set forth in the model. In the en d, studies that focus on grand changes on scales of analysis that encompass large regions and time scales cannot escape from making generalizations between sites that share certain traits, such as pottery style. These categories necessarily involve scales regions that occur over a time frame of 200 years, a resolution that would make many archaeologists happy, are developments that are never completely observed by change. Because no person lives 200 years, time is an obvious issue, but the spatial scale of analysis is problematic as well. Individuals have different social relations across the landscape and do not perceive the region in a normative manner. In the Ca ribbean, for example, the changes between Saladoid and Ostionoid are difficult to understand without standardizing Saladoid and Ostionoid people at some methodological indiv at particular time periods. These normalized portraits of supposedly typical individuals are both the product of g eneralizing data, and the representation of generalizations. In this approach, early sites on Antigua are comparable to late sites in Martinique, despite

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184 spatial and temporal distance between these entities. The same process of generalization is applied to Ostionoid sites. Although all sites within one of these categories are comparable, Saladoid and Ostionoid sites that overlap in time and are located in close proximity to each other are not. r existed and archaeologists, therefore, compare statistical illusions rather than actual individuals who lived in the past. In an effort to make the excavation data representative of a certain category, decreasing the input of individual idiosyncratic cha racteristics, the product finally ends up not representing anything. Why aim our research at discovering a person who is a modern cognitive product that had no impact on people living in the past when in the past? If archaeological research wants to be close to people, rather than artifacts, then another approach is needed. The foundation for this line of argument is the assumption that in order to understand parts of a culture, the whole is a necessar y first step. Categories of pottery, for example, are the first step in analysis, rather than investigating the practices in which these particular sherds were used. The parts of any culture (individual practices) make no sense unless there is a clear pict ure of the general framework (the categories) in which the individual plays a (small) role. As a result, archaeologists start with regional studies and later focus on the detailed excavation of one site. Today, this is done as ice in Caribbean archaeology and few people question why regional studies are the first step in archaeological research.

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185 This assumption that small parts of a society can only be understood when the whole is known is a fundamental flaw in archaeological re asoning. Typically, spread throughout a large region, multiple sites are tested. These test excavations are all small scale and a number of intellectual steps are taken to interpret these finds. First, the test excavation is taken as a representative sampl e of the whole site, irrespective of its location within the site. Second, the site is taken as a representative sample of the whole region or time, irrespective of its position within the region and time of occupation. Third, data from different sites are compared and categories based on time and space are defined by artifact categories. Hence, a small test excavation is finally deemed representative of large regional structures, while the actual data only reflect very specific processes that happened in o ne particular location within a site. In these approaches, the scale of data recovery does not reflect the scale of interpretation. The archaeological data from a 1x1 m excavation is immediately extrapolated to the site and the region, while the data reall y only describe the 1x1m and nothing else. In addition, the processes that produced that 1x1 m involve individual people, while these larger scales normalize behavior and do not reflect individual practices. Every step made in the analysis draws the interp retation away from the actual data, removing the conclusion from its foundation and reducing the input of actual people. Whereas the data that archaeologists study are produced at a microscale in the past, archaeologists ignore this and state that the macr oscale is the only scale that can be measured. However, archaeologists can understand the parts in detail as the data are produced at this exact scale. The whole, therefore, should not be the main goal.

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186 It has to be concluded that archaeologists tend to fo cus on material categories. Two factors might explain how these problems arose in Caribbean archaeology. First, pottery is almost the only non perishable artifact that preserves after deposition and it is sense to focus on pottery when interpreting the Caribbean archaeological record. In addition, the differences between the pottery styles throughout the Caribbean archipelago are extensive. All different styles of pottery dis cussed in this chapter are easy to recognize and classify and very few pieces leave doubt as to which group they belong. These differences are so vast that it is impossible to deny their importance, styles are not just facts fabricated by archaeologists studying the area, but must have had some indigenous meaning. The material disparity between Saladoid and Meillacan pottery strongly suggests dissimilar cultural roots of the people using these styles Hence, it is easy to equate these pottery styles with people. Although almost every contemporary scholar in the Caribbean understands that you cannot simply equate a pottery style with a group of people, it is exactly what many do. Categories of artifact s, especially pottery series in the Caribbean region, are only considered with respect to what they represent and how they are associated with other assemblages. Certain sherds are immediately assigned to these larger categories, while little attention is given to local variations. This underlines the implicit notion that these artifact assemblages, which encompass large scales of time and space, are valid categories to understand social relationships between people. Furthermore, archaeological analysis is restricted to the decorative elements of pottery and how they

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187 are representations of certain identities. As a result, social identities only exist in the larger spatial and temporal scales, similar to the categories of pottery styles. In this regard these archaeologically constructed identities are not structural or relational. They adopt the notion that common practices, in this case pottery decoration, reflect normative practices that can be used to identify groups of 'peoples and cultures.' While simi larities and differences in pottery decorations may highlight shared or different practices, the meanings of these practices are left unconsidered Geography is the second point that has unconsciously guided research in the Caribbean. The Caribbean archipe lago is made of multiple islands in two long, often intervisible, arcs stretching from north eastern South America to Florida in the north and Yucatan in the west. The specific structured setting of these islands has guided archaeologists in their interpre tation of colonization processes. Without detailed excavation data and radiocarbon dates, scholars assumed that the region was Trinidad and Tobago to Grenada, colonized the isl and, moved north through the Grenadines and settled St. Vincent, colonized the island and so forth. The layout of the islands, rather than archaeological data, directed research. However, it is clear now that the southern Lesser Antilles were bypassed in e arlier episodes and the northern Lesser Antilles and Puerto Rico were first targeted by groups from the mainland (Haviser 1997) Diversity between different islands is another geographic aspect that has directed research in certain ways (Hofman and Hooglan d 2011) Every island is distinct and has certain characteristics that it does not share with other islands in the region, such as

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188 clay and chert resources, isotope signatures and micro climates. Volcanic temper in pottery on limestone islands, such as in the Bahamian archipelago or Anguilla must have been introduced from elsewhere. The diversity in resources, pottery styles and isotope signatures are archaeologically traceable and provide information on the dynamic relations between people and islands. The diversity in islands has resulted in a large literature on mobility and exchange between different islands (Altes 2011a; Berman and Gnivecki 1995; Bright 2011; Callaghan 2010; Carlson 1999; Cordell 1998; de Waal 2006; Fitzpatrick and Ross 2010; Hofman et al. 2007; Hofman et al. 2008; Hofman et al. 2010; Hofman et al. 2011; Hoogland et al. 2010; Keegan 2006; Keegan and Diamond 1987; Knippenberg 2001, 2004, 2006; Laffoon and de Vos 2011; Laffoon and Hoogland in press; Laffoon et al. 2010; Lalueza Fox et al. 2003; Martnez Cruzado 2010; Mol 2007, 2010; Rouse 1992) These studies have significantly increased our understanding of the Caribbean past. How, where and when people moved through the archipelago are important questions. However, it must be acknowledged that contemporary geographical and political divisions have guided research on these islands, despite the fact that these boundaries might have had little meaning in the past (Boomert and Bright 2007) We have to question if these research questions would have been of similar importance were these regions all connected by land and not divided by water. The problem of scale remains. How do excavated data represent the interpretations that are drawn from them? Although the tides are changing, the culture his torical framework is still evident in Caribbean archaeological practice. Archaeological interpretations mostly involve large scales at spatial and temporal axes and excavation

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189 data is placed within existing frameworks. Even though new questions and researc h models have developed, the underlying space time systematics, including all of their problematic assumptions, remain the same. 6.4 A Practice oriented Relationist Approach The perspective advocated here, a practice oriented relationist approach, has many advantages over a culture historical paradigm. 2 A number of points have already been made in the introduction, but for the argument, some will be discussed in more detail. First and foremost, people are truly the main subject of study. Second, this perspe ctive is historical. Third, the initial scale of analysis is reduced to the microscale. Fourth, macroscale phenomena are not excluded from interpretative models, as relations at this scale affect relations on the microscale as well. Fifth, the scale of ana lysis actually represents scales that are intelligible to people in the past, rather than products of archaeological models only. Sixth, this model allows for agency on the level of individuals and materials. Seventh, day to day activities form the basis o f social life. Eighth, multiple coexisting interpretations are possible and there is no one right way of doing archaeology, without falling into the subjectivist, post modern trap where everything is possible. Finally, archaeological investigations become dynamic descriptions of how past people experienced their world, rather than a mere descriptive monologue of how things were. The difference in ontologies between a practice oriented relationist approach and culture history produces these differences. Cult ure historical analysis has a realist ontology and assumes that, considering sufficient research, the truth about the past will 2 Although this document focuses its argument against a culture historical paradigm, other paradigms are certainly included.

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190 be revealed. More excavations will result in more detailed understanding of the space time dynamics of particular artifact assem blages, ultimately providing the background that is needed to explain socio political structures, ideology and other factors of social life. People have no active role in the production of this reality, as it is located outside their day to day life and in teraction with others. Therefore, only one explanation for the archaeological record is valid (Keegan 2010) Multiple, equally valid, interpretations are impossible. The true nature of the past is out there and observable. The argument here follows a relat ionist ontology. The world, including its objects and subjects, are all relational. These relationships are created through performance and interaction. However, the materiality of the world does pose certain boundaries to these performances and relationsh ips, causing certain arguments to be false and untrue. Performance is the main subject of study in a relationist approach, because performances are confined and the physi cality of people and objects induces certain causal inferences (Gell 1998) while other relations are denied by the material boundaries. Multiple coexisting interpretations are possible and there is no one right way of doing archaeology. The eight points a re now discussed to explain these differences in more detail. First, people are placed central in this analysis. In a practice oriented relationist approach, the focus lies on the active construction of relations between agents and their environment (Barre tt 1994; Bourdieu 1977; Giddens 1984; Ingold 2000; Munn 1986; Ritzer and Gindoff 1994; Thomas 1996) Placing emphasis on the interaction between individuals, objects and the world directs attention to the processes of how relations are

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191 established (Gell 19 98; Gosden 2005; Latour 2005; Munn 1977) Furthermore, the active construction of these relationships is continuous and never ends. Social life does not stop and relations are constantly contested, negotiated, manipulated or reaffirmed (Bourdieu 1977; Gidd ens 1984; Heidegger 1977) Because past people play a vital role in the creation of these past relationships, the importance of these agents must be acknowledged and emphasized. A practice oriented relationist perspective cannot work without considering re al people who lived the past. The unit of analysis is, therefore, the construction of the relation, rather than its (Heidegger 1977) and relationships are continuously (re )produced, i t is futile to focus on one specific state and describe it. The process of construction is constant and never ends, lived. Instead of aiming effort at understanding what to understand how people consciously engaged in certain practices to alter social relationships with themselves and others (i.e. History is an essential part of this process. In culture historical approaches, categories, for example Salado id or Ostionoid people, are ahistorical and change only happens at the beginning and the end of these units determined by space and time. Despite large temporal differences within these categories, people are considered similar and historical sequences are unimportant. However, as mentioned, the construction of relationships is constant. This process happens in the present, but is dependent on past structures (Bourdieu 1977; Giddens 1984) And the status of these past structures is altered through the perfo rmance of these practices, as their

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192 performance either denies, affirms or reifies their existence. Hence, these structures are structures do not seem to change, the continuou s reproduction of these structures increases their objectification and modifies through time (Bourdieu 1977) Hence, history is vital in this process. The initial scale of analysis must involve the microscale, because this is the scale in which these relat ions are constructed. Scales of analysis must zoom in on the particulars of everyday life, of real people creating social relationships and bonds (Bourdieu 1977; Foucault 1977; Giddens 1984) The large space time boundaries of culture history totally excee d the dynamic creation of relationships in quotidian focuses in on these smaller scales of analysis. Furthermore, the importance of history and historical change or co ntinuity also requires that temporal and spatial axes are reduced in a practice oriented relationist approach. There is a strong and persistent misperception among archaeologists that this microscale of analysis is incomprehensible from the archaeological record The fact that archaeologists cannot work with records that exactly describe minute to minute practices does not lead to the conclusion that these records are fabricated in large time sequences. Sites are not constructed by a Saladoid or Ostionoid a gent that decided how the archaeological record should be formed over a timeframe of 1000 years, but real people constructed structures, disposed meals, made tools and engaged with other people in daily activities. Artifacts and the accumulation of archaeo logical materials are deposited by individual agents. It is, therefore, not only possible to approximate these

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193 scales, but it is the only way to start an analysis. The archaeological record is the product of small processes of deposition. Extrapolating sma ll excavation units to generalizations of the site, islands and other large scale phenomena creates an artificial distance between the archaeological record and its analysis. Hence, this shift to a microscale of analysis actually helps archaeological analy sis, as the scale of analysis resembles the scale of data collection. Yet, the macroscale is still important and must be integrated in analysis. As mentioned, history and historical sequences structure future practices and function as a frame of reference on which activities are based (Barrett 1994, 1999; Bourdieu 1977; Van Dyke and Alcock 2003) This means that microscale phenomena reference the past, introducing a larger temporal scale, and other places where previous practices took place, introducing a l arger spatial scale. Although the relations are created in the present, these same relations constantly reference other times and places (Barrett 1994; Ingold 2000; Jones 2005; Morphy 1995; Munn 1986; Thomas 1996) History provides a structure that is used in the present, but through practices, this history is and and forth between the pre sent, the past and the future (Helms 1998; Hirsch 1995) Interpretive models, therefore, resemble scales that are understandable and significant for people in the past. By placing such a strong focus on human interaction, archaeological models approximate aspects of social life that are significant for the people who produced that past. Categories that are a product of modern scholarly work that are incomprehensible for people in the past are neglected, because this approach

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194 stays so close to the scale in which people create relations in the past. Categories that encompass both large spatial and temporal dimensions, such as a 1000 year pottery style distributed across multiple islands, would have never had any reality in the perception of a single person wh o lived anytime during that period. Changing the scope of research to these smaller scales of the people living in the past, while not neglecting the importance of the larger scales, overcomes this problematic distance of past Furtherm ore, past people are active components in this process of history and have agency. Again, in large categories of a culture historical approach, agents have no existence and change only happens when new styles/categories emerge, what has processes of negotiation, manipulation and affirmation of past structures entails that people are consciously engaging with these structures and practices to inform themselves and increase their position within a social arena. People do not adopt a certain way of life because that life reflects what they are; they actively make decisions from the possibilities that are available to them. They adopt practices that communicate what they want to be! This means that agents are knowledgeable about their environment and act upon it for their benefit in the future (Giddens 1984; Ingold 2000) Practice theory (Bourdieu 1977, 1990) and structuration theory (Giddens 1984) also argue for the importance of da ily life. The repetitive quality of practices that occur on a day to day basis, such as food production, procurement, preparation and consumption, child rearing and interaction with other people produces the basis for the structures that organize social li fe. Within this day to day life, material objects, such as

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195 the house (Bourdieu 2009) structure these practices as well. This is another advantage for archaeologists. Quotidian practices produce by far the most archaeological materials, providing a large a mount of data with which to work. Although special occasions, such as feasts and funeral, are still relevant occurrences, mundane activities are more important to understand social life and this information is more accessible in the archaeological record. When this perspective is adopted, dynamic interpretive models are generated in which objects and subjects are in constant movement and interaction (Barrett 1994; Jones 2005; Thomas 1996) Rather than a static description of how artifacts look and how they fit in with space time systematics, their role within a process is determined. Artifacts are part of the practices of negotiation and manipulation, giving these objects an active role in this process. This also gives these objects agency (Gell 1998; Gosden 2005; Latour 2005; Miller 2005b) as they have the capacity to change social relations and influence the course of history. Furthermore, this paradigm allows for multiple interpretative models to coexist and different approaches and datasets can all be co mbined within this research approach. In conclusion, a practice oriented relationist approach clearly separates the unit of observation and the unit of analysis. In contrast, other archaeological research models equate these two phenomena. Pottery or any o ther artifact remains the unit of observation in the approach advocated here, but these objects are utilized to understand how practices create certain social identities. The unit of analysis is not the pottery as such, but the practices that involve potte ry. Pottery is not a passive reflection

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196 necessarily what objects people used in the past, but how and why they used these objects. In this perspective, objects are points of entry to understand networks of social relations in which these artifacts were consciously employed to accomplish desired ends, rather than mere distribution patterns of certain artifact types. 6.5 Conclusion This chapter introduced Caribbean pre history. A general overview of the patterns that are recognized through time mainly concentrate on the migration of people throughout the Caribbean archipelago and the pottery styles that are associated with these movements of people, with an emphasis on t he prehistory of the Bahamas. This chapter partially provided the cultural and regional background for the case study in the next chapter. Besides providing a general introduction to the region, this discussion also illustrates how certain archaeological studies have flaws and assumptions that must be avoided. Especially the lack of people in a culture history approach is difficult to embrace when this is supposedly the main subject of study. Many scholars have noticed these problems and have tried to adop t new perspectives and/or approaches, but find it extremely difficult to move away from these space time systematics and problems that are posited by a culture historic al model, its ontological (and epistemological) foundations need to be abandoned. One of the main problems that prohibits the adoption of a new paradigm is the lack of new research questions or the reformulation of old ones. Principal research objectives s eldom involve the local practices on which social life is based, but start from large scale phenomena. A new set of questions significantly facilitates this required paradigm shift.

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197 A practice oriented relationist approach provides the tool to establish t hat shift. Even if pottery seems to correspond to some ethnic group or social identity, the questions change. Previously, certain styles were used to determine to which group the people living at the site belonged. However, this new perspective understands these objects from a completely different point of view. Any object that communicates a certain ethnic or socio political affiliation is totally unnecessary when these relations are commonly accepted and taken for granted. If everyone knows who you are, t here is no reason to communally display that identity. Hence, the fact that these pottery styles seem to convey some sort of identity implies that these identities are questioned. People using these pottery styles are aware of the messages they communicate by adopting certain wares. They use pottery to establish new relations in anticipation of the future and how other people will recognize them as social personae. The questions that are asked from the archaeological record, therefore, change. In a culture historical paradigm, pottery analysis is mostly restricted to style (decoration) and possibly vessel form. A practice oriented approach tries to understand how these pots were used in a social context. As a result, questions arise concerning how different vessels are related to each other and other artifacts. Who is making these vessels and for what purpose? Are there other possibilities available that can satisfy the needs for which these vessels are used? What is the use context of these vessels and how d o they communicate certain values and meanings? Can we recognize local patterns of faunal, shell or coral remains that show a correlation between local uses of pottery? methodolog ical tool to overcome these problems. The first step is to abandon the

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198 macroscale and refocus on the scale from which archaeological data are recovered. Second, it is moving away from artifacts to practices as the unit of analysis. Now, categories of artif act groups are left aside and are not the final product of archaeological investigation, but these objects are used as units of observation to comprehend how people acted and interacted. Following this theoretical approach, the first research step involves the microscale only. From there, steps to larger scales can be made. This is the structure followed in the next two chapters.

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199 CHAPTER 7 THE TEMPORALITY OF A CARIBBEAN TASKSCAPE Practices structure social life. In order to understand the sociality of MC 6 Middle Caicos, Turks & Caicos Islands daily practices must be foregrounded. This chapter is, in content and structure, a direct response to the problems posed in Chapter 6 and places people first. From a practice oriented approach, economic practices ar e related through materials, places and times. Two concepts, namely an economy of substances (Thomas 1996, 1999) and taskscape (Ingold 1993) are used here as methodological tools to demonstrate how a practice oriented approach can be applied to this specif ic case study. These methodological tools both illustrate how practices in daily life structure how people perceive the environment. People living at MC 6 prioritized certain practices, making them more important than others. For MC 6, the exploitation of salt, fish and possibly cotton were the three main economies. The choices of locally exploited resources are consciously selected and compatible with each other, comprising a system of activities that are codependent. Finally, a relational perspective on these different economies informs how people locally constructed relationships and made sense of their world. Attention, for now, is restricted to MC 6 and its microscale. Although previous research at MC 6 and other sites in the immediate region show a st rong relation to other islands in the Caribbean archipelago, especially with Hispaniola (Keegan 2007; Sullivan 1981) these relationships are considered in Chapter 8. Social relationships are formed and performed on a microscale and establish the structure s through which the world is perceived. The focus on the microscale is needed when people are foregrounded and

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200 practices are placed central in the analysis. This Chapter discusses how day to day This argument here inten tionally starts with a discussion on the two theoretical concepts that are used for analysis, namely an economy of substances (Thomas 1996, 1999) and taskscape (Ingold 1993) Theoretical assumptions guide research questions and define sampling strategies i n the field. Underlying theoretical principles determine what questions are asked of the archaeological record and how these questions can be addressed by excavations and other techniques. The collection of data is a subjective practice that is informed by the assumptions and expectations of the researcher. In other words, theories are first in academic practices, rather than added perspectives mere additions after field work is concluded, but directly structure decisions in the field. That is exactly why these theories start this chapter. 7.1 An Economy of Substances Thomas (1996) introduced the concept of economy of substances, while working in Neolithic Britain. He coll ected his data following certain established artifacts (pottery, artifacts made from specific animals, axes made from specific raw materials) and provenience classes (burials, henges, pits), but this did not meet his expectations of certain structural rela tions between the two and clear cultural horizons of distinct sets of artifacts were completely absent and categories of artifacts overlapped with each other. In his attempt to identify relations between certain objects, like marine shell, stone axes or bo ar tusks, Thomas (1996, 1999) realized that this methodology was not appropriate Neolithic Britain (Thomas 1996:166)

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201 Despite the lack of clear groupings of certain artifac ts, Thomas (1996) did find that combinations of artifacts in specific contexts occur. These combinations were a product of exclusion, where artifact groups were categorically excluded from certain spaces. For ur in henges, but were found in association in burials and pits with Groove Ware pottery. The significance of artifacts, according to Thomas (1996, 1999) lies much more in their absence in certain places rather than where they are found. Hence, the relati on was not just between artifacts, but between the location and the artifact. Furthermore, these artifacts were all found in caches or hoards, which were intentional depositions of objects. The burials of these artifacts were conscious acts and these obje cts were not randomly discarded. Instead of using artifacts in a specific context and reusing them in another context at a later time, these acts of burial fixed and defined certain identities and meanings of these artifacts (Thomas 1996:164) The act of d eposition materialized a constant relation between the artifact and the place. And if the objects defined identities at deposition, then the meaning of the place was dependent upon the object. The place made the objects at the same time that the objects de fined the place. These Neolithic depositions were linked through the act of burying artifacts, but different artifacts simultaneously created different locations. All hoards were similar and distinct at the same time (Thomas 1996) Although this pattern re peated consistently across time and space, it was also too complex, according to Thomas (1996:167 168) to be kept as a formalized list. It is unlikely that people kept a specific account of all the possibilities and where certain artifacts could or could not be deposited. The spatial and temporal distance between

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202 these hoards, burials and pits prevented these acts of burial from being observed by all people at all times. A simplified structure of certain principles from which people can constantly draw is much more likely and easier to communicate. Knowledgeable agents used these principles to associate certain artifacts, because they were similar in a sense, while other relations were consciously deconstructed as they conflicted with one another. The artif acts as such, therefore, were not important, but their meaning and use emanated from these principles and the embedded values that they received from them. The circulation and use of objects and materials in the process of constructing meanings and identit ies of place is what Thomas (1996, 1999) calls an economy of substances. This approach is clearly relational, as it is not about what objects mean in and of themselves and in isolation from one another, but how social identities are constructed through con scious practices that draw from generalized principles and create and establish new combinations of objects and identities. This idea of an economy of substances emphasizes how objects, through their use, change social relationships and establish, negotiat e or manipulate current structures. In the case of Neolithic depositions, objects are integral parts of creating spaces and objectifying their status as places where objects can be deposited. The place is as much part of the object as the object is part of the place (Thomas 1996, 1999) The material qualities of objects inhibit agency, which is identified and evaluated (1998:13) notion of abduction of agency Objects have certain material qualities that are undeniable and enforce certain sets of relations while rejecting others. These material qualities, or

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203 to say that these relations are always and everywhere the same, but that the process of making these inferences is limited to very specific outcomes. In sum, the material world matters and, therefore, the material qualities of the objects that inhabit that world matter too (Gell 1998; Gosden 2005; Latour 2005; Miller 2005b) In addition, the relative simplicity of underlying principles for an economy of substances requires knowledge of these principles. Knowledge is gained through experience and personal histories of individuals. Especially in the c ase of isolated places and depositions, the framework of reference on which meanings are based is not available to everyone. The restricted context of certain practices, such as deposition and creation of hoards, involves a degree of secrecy in which not o nly certain objects are excluded, but individuals too. Knowledge about which objects are appropriate for which context is a major form of social power, as groups of people are excluded from this esoteric information (Thomas 1996) Nevertheless, these ident ities are socially acknowledged in communal settings and are enacted in larger social spheres as well. Following this line of reasoning, it has to be accepted that these actions of creating artifacts and places simultaneously creates individuals and person al identities. Through the performance of these actions within an economy of substances, individuals are separated and recognized independently. Within this process of creating individual personalities and identities, objects and places play a crucial role Thomas (1996:180) formulates this relation between people and objects in the following way: There is a sense, then, in which we might suggest that in the later Neolithic persons were created by artefacts, rather than vice versa. For while people always h ave the ability to act, their action is always constrained by their

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204 own social circumstances. While people construct their own identities, they do so on the basis of a set of resources which is made available to them. His case study of flint axes and chal k objects explains this interaction between objects, places and people (Thomas 1999) Thomas (1999) states that pottery, chalk objects and flint axes all share a similarity in the way they are produced, namely extracting resources from the ground and openi ng up the earth. The construction of monumental architecture, such as henges, long barrows or megalithic chambered tombs involved similar practices of extraction and deposition. Furthermore, the deposition of hoards is the inverse practice of quarrying, an d instead of revealing objects to the world, deposition hides them and places them back into the earth. At crucial times in their use history, objects and monuments go through cycles that concern the opening and closing of the earth (Thomas 1999:74) A wes tern perspective might differentiate these categories of artifacts, architecture and practices in distinct classes, but these artifacts and monuments all involve practices of extraction from and deposition into the earth. Thomas (1999) argues that a focus on these objects hinders archaeologists in the present from making adequate interpretations of what these significant objects meant for people in the past. Focusing on past practices involved in the life cycles of these artifacts provides a point of entry into past perceptions of the world. For Neolithic Britain, practices show a strong emphasis on the opening and closing of the earth, which indisputably structured how the environment was appreciated. Two critiques, however, emanate from this discussion. F irst, Thomas (1996, 1999) reasons from the archaeological record to practices and his analysis departs from archaeological materials. Practices are indeed incorporated, but only after the objects

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205 and their context are described. Although this critique is m ainly focused on how his argument is structured, it unconsciously places objects and places before people, rather than vice versa. A practice oriented approach must depart from practices and involve objects and places, foregrounding the agency people have in adopting certain objects to create social identities. This critique is subtle, as Thomas (1996, 1999) explicitly recognizes how practices produce context and processes of interaction create identities. Yet, objects are placed central in the discussion. The second critique is that the objects Thomas (1996, 1999) uses for his analysis are extraordinary, like gifts and status items, whereas a practice oriented approach focuses on the mundane and more daily activities. Bourdieu (1977, 1990) Giddens (1984) and Foucault (1977) all strongly insist that basic quotidian routines, the minutiae of social life, are the foundation of larger structures. Hence, structures of extraordinary exchanges and interaction, like the ones discussed by Thomas (1996, 1999) are b ased upon more simple and everyday practices. The archaeological focus on objects drives Thomas (1996, 1999) away from the underlying ordinary economies and generates an argument based on structures that are only a product of more daily routines. 7.2 The T emporality of the Taskscape Ingold (1993) specifically focuses on the performance of daily tasks and how these tasks structure perceptions. According to Ingold (1993) time and landscape, as central themes in anthropology, can only be appreciated in respec t to these tasks. All subfields in anthropology, including cultural and biological anthropology and archaeology, deal with people and how they live. So, these central themes need to be understood to make the connections between these different fields and b uild bridges for scholarly

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206 interaction. Defining these two concepts of time and landscape, therefore, is a necessary first step. For both concepts, Ingold tries to move away from static descriptions that classify both landscape and time as fixed entities. The landscape, according to Ingold (1993) is not a set of predisposed structures that is ready to be acknowledged by people, but a set of relations that emerges out of the interaction of people within that environment. Knowledge about a place is not inscr ibed or omnipresent, but a product of people doing things within these landscapes. Accordingly, the construction of characteristics of certain places is not an act of understanding the qualities attached to a place, but an act of gather ing as these qualit ies develop through living (Ingold 1993:155) Ingold (1993) uses the concept of dwelling, borrowed from Heidegger (1977) for these acts of creating and understanding the environment through living in a place. This in the s and perceptions and ideas are consistently reevaluated and negotiated. Dwelling involves the creation and manipulation of relations through which people make sense of the world. Hence, dwelling is a historical act and changes through time, just like the ideas and understandings attached to places change. The landscape, then, is the world as it is known to the people who live therein and dwell in it (Ingold 1993) This relational perspective on landscape also applies to time. Time is not a chronological se quence of objective periods, such as seconds or years, but an experienced phenomenon that is based on our acts of dwelling. For example, directly related to the experien ce of time, but also that other acts of dwelling that are not

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207 the landscape determines what time is. In fact, our system of recording time in years, months and days all re sult from living in a world where certain natural phenomena reoccur. The categories are not pre existing in the brain, but are formed through the objectification of certain observations, all dependent upon the revolution of the world around the sun and the rotation of the earth on its axis, subsequently engrained in existing social structures. Yet, time undeniably progresses and historical sequences must be accepted to a certain point by everyone. Even cyclical time changes, as meaning and ideas of every cy cle depend on past cycles. Every new cycle has the added value of the past cycle, which that past cycle did not have when it started. The acts of dwelling and how we live in the world determine our appreciation of it only to a certain degree, as people are still dependent on some form of forward movement through time. Acts of dwelling are responses to the past, as past structures form a basis for interaction, while at the same time these acts immediately inform the future and change the structure upon which these acts respond. Another layer of experience is continuously added to the existing structure. This progressive but experienced time is what Ingold (1993:157) calls temporality. Ingold (1993:158) nd fundamental acts of dwelling. As notions of time and space develop through interaction, temporalities and landscapes are based upon these tasks. Tasks are not haphazard or isolated, but performed by people who are aware of the underlying structures and

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208 dependent upon other tasks. Furthermore, tasks are future oriented and certain activities are performed in anticipation of expected situations, producing a network of relations between different tasks. Relations between an ensemble of tasks form a taskscape. The temporality of the taskscape, then, is the relational properties between different tasks through time. Because tasks are always future oriented, the meaning of these tas ks strongly relies upon these future performances. For example, the meaning of tilling and fertilizing a garden is heavily dependent upon harvesting and use of the final product. Through their performance and repetition over time, tasks build structures fo r social life and direct perceptions. People attend to one another and evaluate other (Ingold 1993:160) Tasks, therefore, are the foundation for social life. (1993) argument on the temporality of the taskscape resonates in many (1996, 1999) economy of substances. Both emphasize how relations are created through performance and how people incorporate these performances in reference to th e future. People are active constituents and actions. However, while Ingold (1993) emphasizes the importance of tasks and practices, his argument is overly theoretical. Ingold insists upon the importance of the material world, but never illuminates how certain aspects of the material world induce specific practices. Objects and other material phenomena are left unconsidered. This position, most likely a remnant of his phenomenol ogical approach informed by Heidegger, leaves the material world almost outside the perception of people.

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209 A combination between the taskscape and an economy of substances, therefore, overcomes the disadvantages of both. Thomas (1996, 1999) emphasizes the r oles of the material world and objects, while Ingold (1993) focuses on the mundane activities and the role they play in structuring social life. In the approach advocated here, it is an temporality of practices first, the term taskscape is adopted here. Taskscapes are the foundations for social life and restricted by material qualities of the lived i n environment. To approach an understanding of social life in the Caribbean past, the material conditions that restricted certain practices need to be explored. 7.3 A Day at MC 6 Both concepts described above are more practical applications of practice the ory, but still lack the specificity of cultural practices at a microscale. Economies of substances, temporalities and taskscapes are all dependent upon their context within certain social settings. These concepts, therefore, do not provide specific informa tion on what people actually did at MC 6. Furthermore, people prioritize their efforts and intentionally focus on certain practices and resources, while others receive less attention. Many products are seasonal, such as crops, salt, fishes, fruits and othe r useful plants, restricting the time of their potential exploitation. Not every resource can be exploited fully, because of the lack of labor and time, so choices have to be made. These decisions are conscious reflections of future oriented people who eng age with the local environment and utilize products to express themselves socially. Archaeological evidence from MC 6 suggests that the exploitation of salt and fishing are the two main activities (Keegan 2007; Sullivan 1981) Decisions on a daily

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210 basis w ould have prioritized these practices over others. Other practices, involving other local or non local resources were performed as well, but received less attention and devotion on particular days. The following discussion describes how decisions were made on a daily basis at MC 6, providing a narrative of how people engaged with their environment. This narrative explains what important factors were pertinent to people living at this location. One spectrum of the taskscape, however, must be considered first Every taskscape is dependent on the division of labor. Men and women are not alike and most societies have a very strict distinction between masculine and feminine practices (Collier and Yanagisako 1987) Ethnographic data suggest that women in general t end to work close to the village and garden, take care of children, while men focus on physical labor and practices outside the village boundaries. Decisions are not made solely on the basis of what needs to be done, but also on who is socially allowed to perform these tasks. First and foremost, decisions are based on immediate nutritional needs. Every day, procurement of food and water are primary objectives in daily practices. Confined to the immediate surroundings of the habitation site, these important needs are often gardens, harvest crops, process and cook food. These practices often occur in a communal setting in cooperation with cognates and affines to the exclusion of men. These activities are coordinated in socially constructed taskscapes in which individual

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211 When these daily requirements are fulfilled, labor can be allocated to other practices that are less pertinent. For example, women can collect materials for crafting (e.g., baskets, pots, weaving, etc.), produce these crafts and manufacture tools. These practices involve much longer time scales, as these products might facilitate certain practices in the (near) future. Baskets are needed to transport salt between Armstrong Pond and MC 6 when the salt season begins and fishing nets must be ready before the fishing season starts. To ensure that these tools are present, women plan and manage their time in relation to these anticipa ted needs. Before the fishing season, attention is devoted to tasks that involve fishing tools, while the period before salt harvesting is primarily assigned to basket making. For men, a division of labor between immediate and anticipated needs also determ ines which practices are performed. Furthermore, kin related males often collaborate and cooperate in similar ways as women do, submerging these individual tasks into a socially constructed taskscape as well. Immediate decisions that require attention are the clearing and burning of fields, which are season specific. Furthermore, hunting and fishing provided groups with the necessary proteins in their diet. These practices involve a number of different techniques, such as line fishing, net fishing and captu ring marine resources in weirs. Which technique is used each day depends on local conditions. Net fishing is extremely efficient when men cooperate in larger groups and drive fish, especially mobile species such as bonefish, into the direction of the nets by disturbing the water. Keegan observed this practice on the north coast of Haiti. However, there are times when net fishing is not an efficient strategy. Placing and harvesting of traps does not require communal efforts and is more likely an

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212 responsibility and property. Also, after rainstorms and other weather patterns, the composition of the water changes and fishermen are hesitant to make trips to the open water. Their labor would be relocated to, for example, fishing weirs near tidal inlet s. These practices involved larger groups and were also communally coordinated. The use of weirs, constructed by men, could have been monitored and the Datura sp.) could further increa se yields. Men can also dive for conch and other invertebrates, an activity that was facilitated by, and supplemental to, fishing. Conch is often captured near small cays where the meat is extracted and the shell left behind. There are huge modern and preh istoric piles of conch shells around the Caicos Bank (Sinelli 2010) These are just a few examples of factors that guided decision making processes at MC 6. Every day, people decided from a whole gamut of possibilities which activities they were going to p erform that day. Immediate and future needs were constantly taken into consideration and people made decisions in relation to these needs and other factors, such as weather patterns and seasonal abundances. The narrative above t of course other resources were exploited too. Although important, these resources were always of secondary importance to people at MC 6. The subsequent discussion focuses on the three most important resources, salt, fish and cotton and how their material aspects structured decision making processes. 7.4 Salt, Fish and Cotton People who settled the site of MC 6 must have done so for a reason. In search of a good place of habitation, multiple variables are evaluated and a decision is made. The complete lack of fertile soils, quarries of valuable stones and chert and good clay sources is, for example, compensated for by direct access to the Caicos Bank and

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213 Armstrong Pond. This settlement location reflects a cultural motivation and preference to simultaneously exploit fish and conch from the bank and salt from Armstrong Pond. Although other practices are certainly not denied, the major activities are expected to involve these specific resources that are special to MC 6. These major practices, in combination wit h the possible production of cotton, are the focus of the remainder of this chapter. The local abundance of both salt and fish and the ideal climatic conditions for cotton production suggest that these economic activities are the major foci of people livi ng at MC 6. These practices are restricted by the material conditions of these three resources and induce a very specialized economy. These material conditions are undeniable and people have to adhere to these restrictions. Salt, fish and cotton demand spe cific taskscapes of interrelated activities at certain times within the production process. Figure 7 1 Location of MC 6 and Armstrong Pond.

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214 To understand the sociality of salt and MC 6, my fieldwork was specifically focused on recognizing practices relat ed to salt at MC 6 and Armstrong Pond. Coring at Armstrong Pond was done to establish if salt was available when people lived at MC 6. Excavations at MC 6 were meant to determine local salt centered practices at the site. However, the sociality of MC 6 is not restricted to this resource alone and excavations also provided information on other activities, related to fish, cotton and other resources, at the site. Evidence for these practices is presented in relation to these activities. 7.5 Salt Solar evapor ated salt crystalizes at the edges of Armstrong Pond. Salt production practices were therefore undoubtedly spatially concentrated at the pond. After solar evaporation, salt was collected After evaporation, salt is hard as a rock and di fficult to break. To avoid the hard work of breaking the salt into smaller pieces, salt can be collected as a thick brine and left in a pile for further drying. Thi s technique, for example, is practiced by French saltmakers in Brittany In the case of MC 6 brine could have been placed in baskets to allow excess water to drain. Armstrong Pond was the location where people extracted salt. A description of the pond is warranted. Armstrong Pond is a 1.5 km long and 200 m wide saltwater pond that stretches rou ghly along a north south axis in the southeastern part of Middle Caicos. A small peninsula on the western bank divides the pond into a northern and southern half The pond is relatively shallow and water is never deeper ~1 m in a couple of locations. Howev er, water levels fluctuate. During the 2010 field season, a wide shore along the western part of pond was dry, but in previous years the water reached the edge of the hardwood forest (Keegan 2010, personal communication). Yet, the whole area surrounding th e pond is relatively flat and little differentiation in elevation is

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215 present. Even if water was high, a person could stand anywhere in the pond. Also, cracks o n the bottom surface as a result of drought, are observed in even the de epest parts of the pond, supporting the idea that levels fluctuate significantly Limestone bedrock borders most of the pond, the typical substrate of all islands in the Bahamian archipelago, except for a sandy area in the far south western part. Figure 7 2 Northern edge of Arm strong Pond. Isaac Shearn walks into the pond to take a core sample. This pond has all the characteristics for large scale salt production. First, the pond is large and shallow, increasing the surface to volume ratio. The large exposure to solar energy lea ds to a pronounced cline in water temperature and the edges of the pond often g e t uncomfortably warm during the day Second, water infiltrates the pond through

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216 the sediment, most likely from the southeast corner where an old gully was likely situated. This is the same gully that might have connected Armstrong Pond to MC 8/10. Hence, the salty water that reaches the pond comes from the Caicos Bank and has a higher salinity than the surrounding Atlantic Ocean. The surface to volume ratio on the Caicos Bank is also high, resulting in an increase in evaporation and salinity levels before the water reaches Armstrong Pond. Third, i mpurities in the water slowly settle in the calm waters of the bank, leading to higher purity levels of the salt produced from this wat er. Finally, water temperatures in the Caicos Bank are higher than the surrounding ocean and increase evaporation rates at Armstrong Pond In addition to these local conditions of the pond, the climate on Middle Caicos is favorable for salt production as w ell. Sears and Sullivan (1978) subdivided the B ahamas in three climate zones and classified Middle Caicos as This category has the least amounts of precipitation across the vast Bahamian archipelago (400mm in dry to 800mm in wet years), wit h two extensive dry periods in winter and summer. Middle Caicos is not the driest of these island s and averages 750 mm per year but Sullivan (1981) states that rainfall on Middle Caicos is in perfect balance, because drier islands lack a stable source of fresh water while wetter islands receive too much fresh water which retards or prohibits salt production. The lack of rainfall in this micro climate has multiple causes. First, limestone islands lack mountainous areas, lik e the Greater Antilles or most i s lands in the Lesser Antilles, which generate clouds and rainfall. Second, the Turks & Caicos Islands are on the northern range of southeasterly trade winds and major hurricanes seem to have little impact on this region (Sullivan 1981) Yet, the Turks & Cai cos Islands have been hit

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217 multiple times in recent years and hurricanes caused major damage, including the destruction of a 6 month old causeway between North and Middle Caicos by hurricanes Hanna and Ike in 2008. Although rainfall is high during these tim es, hurricanes only disrupt normal patterns for brief amounts of time and the normal pattern is resumed shortly after the hurricane passes. Furthermore, hurricanes tend to hit the Turks & Caicos Islands later in the season, because of their northern locati on. These islands have higher chances of getting hit after the salt season is over. over the islands. In summer, the landmass is significantly warmer than the water, producing a very local ch ange in air pressure and directin g clouds and rain away from land. Wind is the last climatic factor that significantly impacts the rate of salt production. Besides days whe n nearby tropical systems disrupt normal conditions, trade winds constantly hit Midd le Caicos. Winds are strong and constant, coming from the Atlantic Ocean in the southeast In colonial times, Bermudians made use of these trade winds for salt production and removed all the trees on Salt Cay and Grand Turk to increase the evaporation rate above the ponds, proving how important a stable source of wind is for the production process. Despite vegetation on Middle Caicos, the constant breeze flows over Armstrong Pond. The rate of evaporation is evidenced by the specific gravity of the water fro m the pond. Two samples were taken at the same location, along the western part of the pond in a shallow beach area in the south, only one week apart. On June 11 th 2010, right after big rain showers the sample indicated a specific gravity of 1.018 or 24 p pt. This is lower than sea water. On the 18 th of that same month, water from the same location

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218 yielded a specific gravity of 1.021 or 29 ppt. This is still below the salinity of sea water, but in only seven days, evaporation of the pond raised the salinity by 5 ppt. Especially at the end of June, days were extremely warm and dry. The process of evaporation must have been even higher during these days, further increasing salinity levels. Relatively little climatic change occurred in the last couple of centur ies (Curtis et al. 2001; Higuera Gundy et al. 1999; Hodell et al. 1991; Kjellmark 1996) which suggest s that these favorable conditions were present for people at MC 6 as well. Low rainfall, high temperatures, dry seasons in the winter and summer and the c onstant trade winds from the southeast were factors that favored salt production on Middle Caicos. Yet, Armstrong Pond has a dynamic history. For example, as mentioned in Chapter 6, a now dried gully might have connected MC 8/10 to the pond, suggesting at necessary to establish if salt production was even possible when people lived at MC 6. M y NSF funded research specifically tried to reconstruct the diachronic development of the pond T wo strategies were used. First, along a north south axis, a total of 50 cores were placed in the middle of the pond, each 30 m apart. 1 Halfway down the length of the pond, the peninsula crossed this a xis and six cores were placed 150 m provided a n overview of the pond which was used for the second stage of investigations at the pond. In the southern part of the pond, a single core was extracted, sealed and transported to the Florida Museum of Natural History for more detailed analysis. 1 Three additional cores were collected. Two c ores (core #1 and 2) in the northern section were placed to test the corer and one core (core #60) was placed in the northwest side above the peninsula to determine the rate of sedimentation in that area.

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219 Figure 7 3 Location of cores from Armstrong Pond from the south to north. Cores 1,2 and 60 are separate as they were not extracted on t he main axis.

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220 Cores we re extracted by a special piston corer designed for coring in wet conditions. This piston corer wa s developed at the University of Florida (Fisher et al. 1992) and specific qualities make it extremely suited for this research. First, the piston corer has a vacuum breaker and prevents sediment disturbance when the piston is removed. Second, the 3'' 4 ft Lexan polycarbonate tube is transparent and allows a quick assessment of the potential of the sample. Third, samples can be easily ext racted and sampled from the core in the field, increasing the quantity of cores that can be extracted per unit time (Fisher et al. 1992). Certain patterns we re observed from the coring data. First, all cores we re heterogeneous and different layers of sedi men t had different textures. Second, colors we re relatively similar, all in the grey range, typical of sediments extracted from anaerobic conditions. Third bedrock forms the foun dation throughout the pond and wa s never deeper than 1 meter from the bottom of the pond. Four th, different parts of the pond ha d different rates of sedimentation. The differences in text ures between layers are significant. The top layer throughout the pond had a clayey silty texture, partially formed by decomposing organic mat eri als, such as leaves from surrounding trees Other layers, composed of sand and coarse sand, denote a complete ly different depositional environment. Clay, silt and sand are always deposited in different settings and a vertical differentiation between differ ent layers is the result of different sequential depositional environments. The environmental dynamics of Armstrong Pond, therefore, were dissimilar from what can be observed in the present. The cores were used to reconstruct the context of deposition in t he past.

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221 The different amounts of clay, silt and sand particles can be used to infer in which sort of water environment these sediments settle d in Basically, small particles only settle in completely stagnant or slow moving water, wh ereas larger particle s can settle when water is flowing. Pebbles, for example, reflect fast moving bodies of water wh ereas sand is deposited in slower flowing environments and clays only settle when water is calm for a long period of time (Waters 1992) The differenc es in sedi mentation reflect different episodes of water movement in the pond and the presence of sand and coarse sand sediments indicates that Armstrong Pond has not always been as quiet as it is today Despite the relative short interva l of 30 m between cores, it w a s difficult to link strata in adjacent core samples in the northern part of the pond. Certain textures, colors or inclusions, such as shell or roots, in one core we re not observed in similar layers at similar depths in adjacent cores Some repetition betw een cores d id occur, but only for a limited number of cores and never throughout a large area. This horizontal heterogeneity is the result of very localized sedimentation patterns. 2 For example, four cores (#34 37) just north of the peninsula all yielded a layer of coarse sand between a minimum depth of 9 cm and a maximum of 19. Three of the four samples also contained small amounts of shell within this layer. This consistent pattern over 120 m is not present in the next core ( # 38). 3 However, both core s 38 and 39 have layers of sand at approximately the same depth as the coarse sand, with the layer in core 39 also 2 Although the depth of the sediments in comparison with the water table was not recorded, partially because the water table was constantly fluctuating due to rainstorms during the fieldwork, it does not seem to affect the interpretation. The heterogeneity between cores cannot be explained by relative water depth. 3 Core 38 contained coarse sand, but only at a depth of 33 cm. This is too deep in comparison to the other four cores and it probably reflects another depositional process.

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222 containing shell. In core 40 and 41, sand is absent but layers of silty sands and sandy silts occur, again containing shell. A horizontal continu ity is absent throughout this 240 m long transect Th e s e localized pattern s of sedimentation were also observed in the area east of the peninsula. The cores from this axis were placed 150 m east of the main axis and yield ed no coarse sands Layers we re pre dominantly silts, especially in the deeper parts. The eastern border of the pond has a high ridge of limestone, prohibiting large scale influx of new sediments from that direction. Therefore, sediments in this area must have entered the pond from the west, depositing the coarser materials before reaching this part of the pond. The lack of coarser materials provides evidence that water and sediment influx to the pond must have come from the west rather than the east. The south area of the pond show ed more ho rizont al homogeneity and more layers could be linked to each other. Yet, the integrity extends as in the north, across o nly a couple of cores. Core s 21 to 26 all ha d a coarse sand layer between 10 and 18 cm. Except for core 21, these coarse sand layers co ntain ed shell and superimpose fine sands or sandy silts. Core s 10 to 16 all ha d a coarse sand layer in the bottom. Core s 5 to 12, a 210 m distance along the north south axis, all yield ed a silty layer between 9 and 21 cm. Between core s 6 an d 12, a sandy la yer with shell wa s consistently present between 14 and 30 cm. Th ese localized pattern s of deposition are the result of small scale processes of sedimentation that only affect parts of the pond in a very particul ar manner. How these processes u nfold throug hout t he pond is best described by an example from the northern part of the pond. Th e pattern described above indicates a gradual transition

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223 from coarser to finer sediments in a northern direction This suggests that sediments from the northwestern side of the peninsula entered Armstrong Pond at a relative high velocity, depositing coarse sand, and slowed down further into the pond, depositing sands and silts. The further away from the point of entry, the lower the velocity of the water and the smaller the particles that are deposited. As a result, the cores throughout the pond show very inconsistent ho rizontal integrity, due to the deposition of different types of sediments during one depositional event. This hypothesis is underlined by two observations. F irst, sandy beaches along the pond only occur for a small part north of the peninsula and in the southwest part of the pond. Sandy beaches are the result of sedimentation processes and can only occur in these locations when bedrock is shallow relative to o ther locations around the pond. Hence, these beaches are surface layers of sedimentation when water tables were higher and sediments were flowing toward Armstrong Pond. Second, along the west part of the pond, multiple shallow depressions are situated and d uring the first couple of days of the field season, rainstorms filled the small depressions with fresh water. After the rains, water flow s from the small depressions into Armstrong Pond, especially just north and south of the peninsula and in the southwes t part along the pond. These are exactly the locations of the sandy beaches. The data from thi s first stage of coring provides a general overview of the variation in Armstrong Pond. The data also show that at two very specific points, the center west and s outhwest of the pond, water flows into the pond. Core 10 was selected for more detailed analysis. This location wa s determined for a number of reasons. First, core 10 yielded clear stratigraphic differentiation. Second, the pattern of core 10 wa s consisten t

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224 with cores 11 and 12, suggesting relative stability and similarity in this part of the pond Third, core 10 wa s the deepest core in this southern part. Finally, spatial proximity to the site suggest s that the southern part of the pond was used by the peo ple at MC 6. Every centimeter of sediment wa s described separately. Sediments were sieved through 1 mm, 600 m and 250 m, collected and bagged. During the first stage of coring, no charcoal was recognized anywhere in the sample. Sieving the sa mple through small meshes would collect charcoal if present, but no charcoal was retrieved Nine shell samples distrib uted over the complete column were radiocarbon dated Clay and silt predominate in the uppermost 5 cm of this core, which is consistent with all cores throughout the pond. This layer is partially formed by decomposing material that c ollect s in the pond. Between 5 and 11 cm, a layer of silt with l ittle shell wa s recorded. The layer between 11 and 14 cm is similar to the previous layer, only a few small s and particles are detected throughout Between 14 and 15 cm wa s a transition to fine sand, and fine sand predominates until 17 cm. Underneath the fine sand is a 4 cm lay er of sand that is significant ly coarser than the previous layer This layer also conta ined a large amount of shell. At 21 cm, the sediment transitions aga in to fine sands and silts and shell was only observed sporadically Between 27 and 29 cm, coarse sand and small rocks form a layer that also contains small amounts of shell. Below 29 cm, a layer of silt contains small stones for 3 cm, which disappear and the layer is completely void of any material larger than 250 m between 33 and 37 cm. A 3 cm thick layer of fine sand follows and contains some shell. Between 40 and 44 cm a l ayer of sand with few shells wa s detected. After 2 cm of fi ne sand and silt with shell, a final layer of coarse sand with rocks and shell concludes this core at 51 cm.

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225 Contemporary conditions are ideal for salt pr oduction at Armstrong Pond, as wa s observed by Sullivan (1981) The cores underline this. In order to produce the salt crystals, evaporation needs to significantly exceed water input. Input of new water is therefore undesired and, for salt production, the body of water needs to be calm. As the particle size of sediments is directly related to the dynamics of the water in which it settles, smaller particles designat e calmer waters than larger particles It might be exp ected that salt production took place du ring times that silts or clays we re deposited in the po nd. The top layer, representing current conditions, consists of clay and silt and follows this line of reasoning. Two layers of silt in core 10 were also tested by x ray diffraction to understand their chemical signature. Both silt layers are 100% calcite There are two possible sour ces for the calcite. First, calcite could be the silt fraction of weathered limestone that enters the water. Secon d, calcite is formed during evaporati on. Calcium carbonate is far less soluble than other salt, like halite. One o f the major products that forms before sodium chloride solidifies is calcite and calcite deposits are often found in association with salt and evaporative ponds (Euliss et al. 1989; Sanz et al. 1995; Tanji et al. 1992) This association between salt ponds and calcite deposits is also present at Ro Lagartos, Yucatan, Mexico. This large lagoon and nature park on the north coast of the Yucatan peninsula harbors an excellent environment for solar evaporation and salt production from sea water. Near the salt po nds at Las Coloradas, tourists can take ba calcite deposits that form during prolonged evaporation of sea water. The XRD analysis possibly supports that salt was formed during the episodes when these silty calcite layers were deposited in Armstrong Pond. A third

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226 process might explain the presence of calcium carbonate. As algae photosynthesize, the pH is raised and calcium carbonate is precipitated from the water column. The strong correlation between both these calcite deposit s and salt production and particle size and water conditions in the pond also suggests that more sandy layers represent episodes in t he past where salt production was unlikely. As sand designates a significant influx of fresh water, these conditions are de finitely less optimal than episodes when silt s are deposited and conditions are more stable. As for core 10, both sandy and silty layers are observed. Starting from the bottom, coarser deposits gradually transition into a silty layer between 37 and 29 cm. This calm period is abruptly disrupted by a subsequent period of high influx of water, designated by a coarser sand which follows the same trend and slowly transitions into another silty layer between 11 and 5 cm. Silty layers, therefore, represent period s of time whe n salt production might have been possible, wh ereas deposits of sand and coarser sand designate periods whe n conditions for salt production we re less optimal. The nine radiocarbon dates retrieved from the core can be used to assign calendar d ates to these episodes. These dates were obtained from shell material in the column. The earliest date, from the bottom of the sample, shows that the first deposition in Armstrong Pond occurred around 2500 B.C.E. Conditions for salt prod uction are not favo rable until 800 B.C.E. at the earliest, which is the earliest date from the deepest silty layer. Conditions remain favorable for a long time, as another date fro m the top of this layer yields 800 C.E. Things abruptly change shortly after 1100 C.E., as evid enced by a coarse sand layer that reflects a much more open environment. After 13 00 C.E. the

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227 po nd slowly transitions to a salt producing pond again, starting with sandy deposits in the beginning of the 14 th century and more favorable silty deposits in the 15 th century. The top 30 cm, therefore, describe the natural history of the pond when people are moving through the landscape and o bserving the phenomena that occurr ed at Armstrong Pond. Shortly after people move into the area, a major episode changes the salt pond significantly, completely disrupting possible salt production. This episode of change is reflected in the core by a layer of coarse sand, reflecting a period whe n high energy water was flowing into the pond. The subsequent layer, consisting of sa nd and silt, denotes a quieter period that might have been conducive for small scale salt production. The date from this l ayer is cal AD 1077 1085 (0.008 probability) and cal AD 1098 1292 (0.992 probability). 4 The next date is from the sand layer that is slightly coarser than the layers above and below it, designating a period of increased water activity. This dat 1418 (1.000 probability). Note that the extremes of these two dates are only 5 years apart and it is possible that these shifts occured rather rapidly. The next date comes from a layer with silt and some fine sand, which represents a period of relative stability and stagnant are cal AD 1424 1534 (0.942 probability), 1558 1563 (0.006 probability), 1573 1583 (0.011 probability) and 1592 1619 (0.041 probability). Conditions are even better cal AD 1314 1450 (1.000 probability). 4 All dates are corrected for the marine reserv oir effect, taking the average data from Bahamas, Jamaica and Puerto Rico. The marine reservoir effect is dependent on currents rather than geology of the islands and an average between the three regions gives the most accurate result. Taking the Bahamas s ample only would result in less accurate results with a larger standard deviation.

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228 The date at the top superimposes the second to last date, meaning that t he top date is relatively younger than the date below it. The calibrated years seem to be rever sed However, the relative age determines the top layer a s the youngest. This means that the actual date of the silt and fine sand layer is probably more to the lower end of the range that the radiocarbon date yields, probably between 1424 (the lowest on the 2 In summary, conditions for salt production start ed to improve during the 14 th ce ntury, as this is the time whe n the sand layer that is slightly coarser is deposited. From there onwards, conditions only get better and around the beginning of the 15 th century the pond is calm and influx of water and sediments is closed. To understand th e changes in environment, it is imperative to look at where the influx of water is coming from. As mentioned earlier, a gully might have connected Armstrong Pond with the salina. This gully was flanked by MC 8/10 on the edge of the salina. Because MC 8 and MC 10 are on both ends of this now dried up gully, these site s were likely present when the gully was open and full of water. One date from the lowest levels at MC 10 yielded 1240. This is consistent with th e data from the pond, a s sand was deposited in the pond during this period. This gully, through time, became shallower, turning into a tidal gully before finally completely filling up and disconnecting the pond from the salina. This process ends around the beginning of the 15 th century. The gradual se dimentation of the gully created ideal conditions for the exploitation of salt at Armstrong Pond.

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229 Figure 7 4 Core 10 with associated C 14 dates. The colored bar on the right shows when conditions are favorable for salt production. 6. During my fieldwork in 2010, a total of 5 m 2 test units were strategically placed throughout the site; inside three structures (II, IV, and VI), as recognized by Sullivan (1981) and one i n the midden area between structure IV and the central plaza. Initial excavations started at structure II, which was first recognized in the field. As initially intended, the excavation covered the

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230 whole structure in separate 1 m 2 Many difficulties arose quickly. First, the long trail between our house and the site took at least 1.5 hours one way, diminishing our work time by 3 hours every day. Second, the soil is full of rocks, significantly increasing the time it took to excavate the units. Third, being close to the salina led us to believe that we would catch a fresh breeze, cooling us down during the heat of the day. Yet, the vegetation changed drastically since Keegan last excavated in 2000 and the whole site least, mosquitoes hatched while we were there and literally covered the site. It took them less than 30 seconds to overcome the 30% deet that I poured over my arm. These islands are known for their mosquito pl agues after the first rains in the wet season, but even 80 year old locals had never seen it as bad as during the few weeks we were there. These circumstances changed the excavation strategy. Attention was redirected to one specific 1 m 2 at structure II on ly. The goal was to excavate inside a structure and within 1 m 2 we found spatial relations between multiple stones on the outside, suggesting this unit is definitely inside a structure. Unfortunately, the consistency between stones in structure II is a re cent development as, at 50 cmbd, a parachute was encountered. Sullivan placed parachutes at the bottom of his test units, meaning that we had re excavated one of his units and all soils above were disturbed. 5 Another parachute was found underneath a rock i n the center of structure III, exactly the reason why structure III is not part of this study. At structure IV, the most promising structure 5 However, Sullivan did not continue to the bedrock. Two more levels were excavated in situ All artifacts above the parachute are still incorporated into the analysis, bec ause these are still artifacts from this site and likely from its general vicinity. Stratigraphic differences, however, will not reflect past conditions and are therefore neglected.

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231 due to its integrity and clear stone construction, two 1 m 2 were placed next to each other, completely covering a n orth south axis on the bottom of the pit. At the last structure, number VI, another 1 m 2 was placed in the middle, edging the raised midden structure to its west. Finally, a 1 m 2 was placed in between structure IV and the central plaza to understand the re lation between the structure, the plaza and the historical stages of the site. Figure 7 5 Map of central part of MC 6 with excavation units in red. This map including the plaza and its alignments, structures I, II, III, IV, VI and VI and was made by Sha un Sullivan. The ten radiocarbon dates from archaeological site MC 6 show a very distinct pattern of when people live d at MC 6. The test unit between structure IV and the central plaza provides a clear stratigraphy of the midden area. Six different levels of 10 cm are

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232 independently analyzed and five different charcoal samples are dated. The charcoal samples are all retrieved from different layers and only level 3 did not yield charcoal. The lowest stratum, level 6 representing the earliest occupation at th range cal AD 1308 1361 and 1386 1419. All three dates from the levels above, except for level 1, have similar ranges from the beginning of the 14 th century until the beginning of the 15 th century. Respectively, level 5 yields cal AD 1 317 1354 and 1389 1430, level 4 yields cal AD 1293 1333 and 1336 1398, level 2 yields cal AD 1308 1361 and 1386 1492 1525 and 1557 1603 and 1611 1631. These dates sugge st that the midden was built up in a relatively short period of time and people maintained that layout until they abandoned the site almost 300 years later. Figure 7 6 North profile of N7E7 with C 14 dates (Midden area south of structure IV). Earliest d ates from structure IV are in agreement with these dates from the midden area, cal AD 1297 1374 and 1376 1401. However, the dates from structure VI and II are later. The date from structure IV, level 2 (out of 4 total levels) yielded cal AD 1415 1451 at a 1451 at the 2

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233 that these locations were later additions. The layout of the midden surrounding structure IV was established first; not too long after other parts were added to the general layout of the site. Table 7 1 C 14 dates from MC 6. Last date is uncalibrated and courtesy of the Caribbean Research Foundation (Keegan 2007:142). Two dates from bone Site # Material Conventional C14 Age (BP) Calibrated 2 Sigma (AD) 95% probability MC 6 UGAM 8772 Charcoal 470 +/ 25 1415 1451 MC 6 UGAM 8773 Charcoal 580 +/ 25 1304 1364 and 13 84 1414 MC 6 UGAM 8774 Charcoal 550 +/ 25 1317 1354 and 1389 1430 MC 6 UGAM 8775 Charcoal 610 +/ 25 1297 1374 and 1376 1401 MC 6 UGAM 8776 Charcoal 470 +/ 25 1415 1451 MC 6 UGAM 8777 Charcoal 340 +/ 25 1473 1636 MC 6 UGAM 8778 Charcoal 570 +/ 25 1308 1361 and 1386 1419 MC 6 UGAM 8779 Charcoal 620 +/ 25 1293 1333 and 1336 1398 MC 6 UGAM 8780 Charcoal 550 +/ 25 1317 1354 and 1389 1430 MC 6 UGAM 8781 Charcoal 570 +/ 25 1308 1361 and 1386 1419 MC 6 Beta 155 021 Bone 270 +/ 40 1430 1530 and 1560 1630 MC 6 Beta 155 020 Bone 130 +/ 40 1460 1660 MC 6 1367 1507 The general pattern indicates that people s tarted moving into the area just before 1400 C.E. and dates from lower levels at the site do not go further back in tim e. In combination with the history of Armstrong Pond and the gradual sedimentation of the gully, it was concluded that initial habitation of MC 6 start ed at the moment that Armstrong Pond wa s disconnected from the salina. Furthermore, this episode change d the conditi on at Armstrong Pond and salt became naturally available at the edges of the pond. In short, as soon as Armstron g Pond is producing salt, MC 6 wa s founded. The exploitation of salt was therefore, the likely incentive for people to establish a s ite at

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234 MC 6. It is necessary to return to the salt exploitation practices at the pond, as described at the beginning of this section. Salt flats are often managed to increase the production of th is resource. Salt producers enha nce the environmental conditi ons that facilitate salt production, while factors that detract from salt production are prevented or negotiated. Salt flats and basins are obvious examples of these practices. At MC 6, an elaborate network of evaporation and production ponds is absent, bu t one detrimental factor was negotiated. Along the sandy beaches of Armstrong Pond, numerous stones form particular alignments. T he se stones are significantly larger than the surrounding sand of the beach In combination with t he spatial cohesion that thes e alignments exhibit, it is assumed that these stones were aligned by humans. The location of all alignments is very speci fic and a large concentration was observed in the northwestern part of the peninsula, some along the southwestern shore of the pond a nd another large concentration in the far south. Eighteen alignments we re recorded by GPS. 6 Most alignments are V shaped or C shaped, with the open end away from the pond. After the heavy rains during our field season, small depressions could not contain a ll the surplus fresh water and it overflowed into Armstrong Pond. The little streams from these de pressions into the pond occurred at two main locations, namely the places where the alignments are concentrated. These alignments we re still directing the wat er to flow in very specific directions along these inlets of fresh water. T hese structures were constructed to manage the input of fresh water into the pond. 6 The GPS that was used was a handheld Garmin and accuracy was often limit ed to more than 4m. The alignments are mapped, but the lack of accuracy clearly shows in some of the odd forms. The photos show how clear these alignments were in the field.

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235 Fresh water dilutes the brine and can significantly retard the crystallization process. The constr uction of these alignments indicates management of the pond and its resources. Figure 7 7 Stone alignments at Armstrong Pond. After the rains, the alignment on the right was submerged in the water. Another function for these structures, suggested by Sull ivan (1981) was as collection basins of the freshly harvested brine and/or salt. A bundant water would drain back in to the pond and salt was collected at central locations If used for this purpose, h owever, one would expect these alignments to be placed a t multiple locations along the pond an d not just specifically in two locations Furthermore, some of the alignments are far from the edges of the pond. This function proposed by Sullivan (1981) is, therefore, unlikely. T hese alignments are possibly also hi storical constructions A historic cotton plantation wa s located north of Armstrong Pond and colonists might have also extracted salt he re. Yet, no historic artifacts we re found near the pond and the cotton plantation might not have exploited this resource at a large economic level. Commercial salt production was concentrated on Grand Turk and Salt Cay, and economic exploitation on Middle Caicos is not expected.

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236 These alignments we re c onstructed for management purposes P eople living at MC 6 were well aware of the factors that influence the crystallization process of salt and constructed these alignments to increase production By consciously diverting fresh water i n certain directions, dilution was reduced and salt production maximi zed. Furthermore, a reduc tion in production wa s avoi ded and the impact of rains minimized. Although people might not have been able to restrict fresh water from going into the pond, they understood that directing the flow of fresh water in certain directions benefited production. Besides these alignments, little material evidence wa s retrieved from the area that suggests human presence. No artifacts were collected in the cores and no pottery was found on the banks of the pond. One artifact, a Strombus gigas shell, was found on the northwestern side. This shell was extremely worn and must have been transported to this location, but any context for when this occurred is lacking. It might have been used as a hammer for breaking hard halite deposits. Other data c onnecting people and the pond are absent. To conclude, the exploitation of salt was the main economic reason to establish MC 6. As soon as the pond changed into a salt producing pond, people started to live at this location. Stone alignments along the pond were constructed to man age the occasional fresh water input, reflecting that people were conscious about the processes and factors of solar evaporation. Salt was collected along the banks of Armstrong Pond. Other practices might have occurred at Armstrong Pond, but no material e vidence has been retrieved as of yet. The practices at Armstrong Pond, therefore, seem to be limited to just the production and collection of salt.

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237 7. 5.4 MC 6 and Salt In order to follow the path of salt, attention must be directed to MC 6. People carried salt from Armstrong Pond to the site. Possibly, woven baskets or cotton sacks were used, as these materials are light and flexible Placed in bags or baskets, the freshly harvested salt was transported Carts or any other form s of terrestrial transportatio n are unknown for the Caribbean at this time so people likely walked The distance to MC 6 is only 600 m and, therefore, not too labo r intensive. There is evidence where this movement took place. Between the salt pond and the archaeological site, Sullivan (1981:170 174) recognized a road. This road is between 7 and 9 m w ide and flanked by two rows of stone. Stones are very common in this the road of all the debris rathe r than a conscious construction of a wall. Clearing this space of stones, which are often sharp and can cause severe damage to feet 7 facilitated the transport of the salt. Carrying heavy loads of salt would have increased the probability of injuries and t he construction of a sandy road would have eased the process. The road connects the sandy beach of the pond to the sandy beach of the salina. The clear structure of this road and the invested effort in its construction clearly determine how salt was moved from the pond to the salina. In other words, t he road is a materialization of people moving between the pond and the site. Halfway between the pond and the site, on the west side of the road, Sullivan (1981:174) ch ambered s tructure constructed of stone 7 During fieldwork and daily treks to the site, our shoes suffered severely from the sharp edges of the limestone rocks.

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238 sherd of imported pottery and charcoal, leaving its function unclear. The scarcity of archaeological evidence echoes the finds at the pond From this point few manufactured and non perishable materials were brought to the pond. The road enters MC 6 from the north. The overall structure of the site is formed by northern and southern raised middens surrounding a plaza The road interrupts th e northern ridge and goes between two elevated midden areas, leading directly on to the plaza. Hence, the structure of the road indicates that salt was introduced to the site in the central plaza rather than to individual houses and/or other structures pres ent at the edge of the salina. Approaching the site with salt, people would have walked straight into the plaza. The elevation of the ridges on either side of the road must have been experienced as physical demarcations of the site boundary. Passing these ridges meant that you entered the site and its plaza. Once at the plaza, the salt mu st have been stored. Because salt is not available year round and production peaks especially in a four week period in July and August, it is thought that most efforts was expended during harvest season of th e resource. Some structure contained the freshly harvested salt for future purposes. Sullivan (1981) extensively mapped MC 6 using a transit during his fieldwork and recognized multiple features in this area (see Append ix D) Besides the two raised middens surrounding the central plaza, Sullivan describes multiple structures on top of these middens. These structures are conical depression s within the ridges, sometimes surrounded by stone rows. At the top, these structure s are approximately 5 m wide, but the low interior is often not wider than 2 m. In a way, they look like volcanoes with a

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239 crater inside. While mapping, Sullivan worked in clear environment after removing guinea grass and hardwood Structures, raised midden s and other features were relatively easy to recognize after this considerable energy investment The conditions were different in 2010 the hardwood forest covered MC 6, hindering observations during my fieldwork. Yet, some of these structures that Sulliv an recognized are very distinct from their surroundings, especially structure s I and IV. Both structures are deep depressions in high points of the midden, surrounded by stones on the interior. These structures leave little to the imagination and are clear ly intentional. The structures, as depressions in the midden, could have potentially served as storage facilities. The salt entered the site in the middle of the plaza and then was purposefully distributed and stored among the different structures until i t was used. Although Sullivan (1981) identified these structures as houses, as he claims to have found a posthole in one of the test units within a structure 8 Keegan (2007) always doubted this interpretation. Stone foundations of round house structures are unknown from the prehistoric Caribbean and, therefore, seem to be specific for the practices of salt production. In search of other locations for houses, Keegan (2007) excavated multiple areas but no evidence was found. In the end, Keegan (2007) adopted used as storage facilities. The movement of salt from Armstrong Pond to these possible storage facilities was tested through chloride and x ray diffraction (XRD) soi l tests. Chloride is a component of salt and, when stored in a specific location, is expected in the soil at MC 6 for three reasons. First, the site has not been disturbed in recent or historic times. 8 No maps, drawings or photographs have been reproduced on this posthole.

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240 Second, the salt collected at Armstrong Pond has very d urable qualities, and Sullivan (1981) observed that a pile of salt made by him and his crew lasted through the wet season, despite the many rains. Third, the stone pit fe atures and depressions create protected area s which contribute to the preservation of chloride in the soil. In total, 49 samples we re collected for chloride testing 9 At the bottom of excavation units inside structure II, IV and VI as identified by Sullivan (1981) fifteen samples were collected The average per structure is used for comp arison. 10 Four sa mples we re collected at the bottom of the test unit in between structure IV and the central plaza. 11 Within the boundaries of the site, eighteen samples we re taken outside the structures and twelve samples we re collected from a larger area s urrounding MC 6, including the salina, Armstrong Pond and along the trail between the road and the pond. All chloride samples we re analyzed by the Analytical Research Laboratory of the Inst itute of Food and Agricultural S ciences at the University of Florid a, following EPA Method 325.2. The analysis aims at the identification of different values per specific area. These sample locations provide data on how concentrations of chloride in the soil are unequally distributed throughout the region. Also, it makes comparison possible between certain categories of areas, such as inside and outside MC 6 or inside and outside of structures. High concentrations of chloride are expected inside, rat her than outside the structures if these structures were used as salt sto rage facilities. 9 See Appendix B for all data from Chloride soil samples. 10 Chloride concentrations for structures are averag ed. Structure II = 572.0 mg/kg ((6 37.8+568.3+530.0+540.7)/5)), structure IV = 508.9 mg/kg ((641.3+542.0+545.1+534.3+598.5+192.3)/6) and Structure VI = 1092.2 mg/kg ((1086+1357+833.7)/3) 11 These fou r samples are also averaged for comparison. N7E7 2996.5 mg/kg ((3713+2479+2876+2918)/4).

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241 Figure 7 8 Location of chloride soil samples. Lower figure is zoomed in on MC 6. Note the correlation between high chloride concentrations (red dots) and location close to the salina or Armstrong Pond. A significant disadvantage of chlor ide is its high mobility in soils and chloride tends to disappear over time. Unfortunately, this characteristic affected the samples of this study S ampl es with high chloride content are restricted to the salina and Armstrong Pond. Two excavation units yie lded high concentrations too, structure VI and the unit in the midden area between structure IV and the central plaza. However, structure VI is not as clear as other structures at MC (1981) interpretation is uncertain. The two clear struct ures that we re tested, structure II and IV, did not yield different data from the surrounding environment. Hence, the chloride data does not argue for these

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242 structures as being salt storage facilities. E ither the se structures were used as storage facilitie s and salt disappeared over time, or these structures were used for something other than for the storage of salt Another possibility, however, is that salt was traded in baskets of specific sizes, as a certain measure of weight and value. These baskets mi ght have limited leaching and prevented large quantities of salt from disappearing into the soil underneath these storage units. A second soil test, XRD, approaches the question of the function of these structures from a different angle. 12 The s oils in the Turks and Caicos Islands derive from a carbonate substrate i.e. ancient coral reefs and the accumulation of oolitic limestone precipitates from shallow marine environments (Sealey 2006) P ockets in the environments however, are different. Trade winds tra nsport dust over the Atlantic Ocean from Africa Rainwater deposits the small particles of African dust and transport s these soils into small pools, where they accumulate over time (Shattuck 1905) These localized po ckets of African clays are red in color and stand out from the normal white soils that predominate in the environment. Important for the XRD analysis, these particles of African origin are chemically very distinct from the carbonate substrate. Clay particles, silicates, and mainly quartz are not found in the substrate, but are significant components in the African dust (Muhs et al. 2007; Prospero and Lamb 2003) Along the trail to MC 6, multiple pockets of this red clay are pr esent. These African dusts also could have accumulate d in the sediment of Armstrong Pond. Dust particles in the pond are possibly present as impurities in the salt for two reasons. First, particles in suspension become impurities in the salt during crystallization. Second scraping the 12 See appendix C for all data from XRD analysis

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243 salt from the surface inevitably add s s ome African soils and dust particles to the salt 13 In sum, African dust particles are expected to be pre sent as impurities in the salt. Figure 7 9 Locations of XRD samples. Location in the pond is core 10, the location northeast of the pond is the locati on of the African red soil. H igher concentrations of clay silicates and quartz are expected within these structures compared to the surrounding environment if sal t was transported from the pond to the stone pit features fo r storage Because the s alt, incl uding the impurities, wa s stored for an extensive period of time, particles leach ed out were left behind at the bases of the structures. Samples from Armstrong Pond, other red clay pockets in the area and soils from the bottom of these structures can be co mpared T his comparison can be used to differentiate the origins of the clays in the structures, from for example Armstrong Pond or other clay sources in the area. 13 The French sel gris or grey salt results from scraping parts of the grey substrate of the salt ponds with the salt during the production process. The addition of the soil gives the salt a different color and taste and is desired by the producer and consumers of the salt.

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244 Twelve samples we re tested using x ray diffraction ( XRD ) Two samples we re from core 10, the same location where the core for detailed analysis was taken. Two distinct silt layers are present in this core and both we re tested. The clay particles are unlikely to settle in the layers of bigger fractions of deposits, as the turbulent water will keep the clay in suspension. S tructure s II, IV, VI and the test unit outside structure IV we re also tested. One red clay source on the trail was sampled, to compare different local signatures of clays. One sample wa s taken outside the boundaries of the midden area, just east of the MC 6 and close to the salina. 14 Four samples were collected from within the boundaries of the site. These last five samples from inside and outside the site determine d the general geochemical composition of this particular region. Sam ples we re analyzed at the Department of Geolog ical Sciences at the University of Florida. This preliminary test of the utility of x ray diffraction for s alt studies specifically targeted quartz and clay particles (Hillier 1999, Lanson 1997, Srodon et al. 2 001, Till and Spears 1969). Before analysis, a 5 g soil sample wa s powdered and sieved through to exclude most of the carbonate substrate that will taint the results (Hillier 1999, Lanson 1997). Because analysis was directed at the dust particles of African origin, the tested sample include d all fractions from coarse silt to clay. A Rigaku Ultima IV for general x ray diffraction wa s used for analysis. 15 Definite patterns are lacking in the results and the movement of s alt from the salt pond to MC 6 wa s not specifically identified This is a consequence of the absence of African dusts in the samples from the pond. A nalysis shows that both silty layers are 100% calcite (Ca,Mg)CO 3 and no quartz or other clays are present in these layers. The 14 This area was designated by Sullivan as Plaza II and will be discussed later in the chapter. 15 See Appendix C for complete report

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245 intent of th ese tests was thwarted by the a bsence of the clays and quartz, which were expected in the sample. C alcite is the no rmal limestone background and no comparison is, therefore, possible between the samples from the structures and the pond. However, this resul t cannot be used to reject the hypothesis that salt was moved from the saltpond to MC 6, but the lack of any signature of clay and quartz prevents any inference. In other samples, quartz wa s found. The sample from the red clay deposit, as expected, yield ed a total of 63.2% SiO 2 This particular sample has by far the largest percentage of quartz, underlining its non local origin. Most of the quartz particles are very small, as these are transported by wind and the soils have a clayey texture. Hematite the i ron oxide that colors these soils red is another large component in this sample 36.8%. Clays, such as kaolinite, halloysite, dickite and gibbsite are also present, but only in very small quantities. This red clay soil represents a natural formation a nd i t is unaffected by humans and occurs throughout the environment. Locations outside the excavation units in the structures of MC 6 yielded significant differences in the concentrations of quartz. The salina is composed of mostly calcite and aragonite, but in addition yields 24% halite. 16 The halite is solidified salt, which is the result of the high sea water table in this area. Quartz is detected, but only in minor quantities. Within the site, in the western part of the central plaza, quartz is 1.5% of the total and the remaining 98.5% is calcite and aragonite. The same pattern shows for the middle of the plaza, with no quartz, 1% carbon, and 99% calcite and aragonite. The 16 Aragonite has chemically the same signature as calcite (C aCO 3 ), but has a different crystalline structure. Most samples also yield trace elements. However, the current analysis is not appropriate to determine these trace elements and is, therefore, omitted here. Finally, this is the same location of plaza II as discussed in footnote 12, Chapter 7.

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246 sample from the bottom of structure II yielded only 3.4% quartz, with 96.6% calcite an d aragonite. Quartz is similar in quantities from structure VI, namely 3% with the remaining 97% calcite and aragonite. In the test unit north of structure IV, the pattern again reflects the dominance of calcite and aragonite (96.5%) and low quantities of quartz (1.9%). In general, the natural signature of most soils inside and outside MC 6 show the pattern of limestone (calcite and aragonite) with minimal traces of quartz (between 1.5 and 3.4%) T hree samples are different, namely the samples taken east o f the central plaza of MC 6, between structure s IV and V from just behind the midden deposits and from the bottom of structure IV which yielded higher quartz percentages Given our capacity to measure the movement of salt from the pond to MC 6 this pract ice is only materially manifested by the road. People were aware of the pond and the significance of its salt and experience d previous difficulties in moving the salt from the pond to the salina. To facilitate this ongoing process of transportation, the ro ad wa s constructed and used. T he road is not an artifact that made people move, but a product of repetitive movements from the pond to the salina. The road did not cause people to exploit Armstrong Pond and salt, but resulted from its exploitation. Althoug h soil analysis does not provide additional evidence, the spatial relation between the pond and the site, exemplified by the road, provides clear evidence of people utilizing salt and tran sporting it to MC 6 and beyond. 7.5.5 Salt and Beyond The data, so f ar, have only considered the practices that involve salt. The strong connection between Armstrong Pond and MC 6 supports the view that salt is of major importance for the people living there. Following the practice oriented approach, the practices that eng age this resource need to be discussed in detail. These practices are

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247 an important part of daily practices and govern local interaction and structure perceptions. The next step involves the uses of the stored salt. Salt is a food and consumption is part of its economy. But how salt is consumed is part of its sociality. Salt can be added to food as a taste enhancer, to overcome a dietary lack or as a preservative. Sullivan (1981) suggested that the importance of MC 6 and its relation to salt stemmed from the dietary need for salt. Especially in a hot and humid environment, people lose substantial quantities of salt through perspiration. Keegan (2007) in and its ability to store food items. The Caribbean climate is again important, but for other reasons. The hot and humid environment of the Caribbean prohibits preservation of fish and other sources of meat for extended periods, as these items will start to decay after a week (Caribbean Commission 1952) The importance of salt and its impact on socio political relations is extensively discussed in Chapter 3. As argued in that chapter, salted foods are better suited to negotiate social power and status than the raw resource The next step in the process is transport. Salted goods are capable of communicating social power and status, but when consumed locally, these messages are less effective (see Chapter 3). Two lines of evidence support the transport of salted fish. First, sixteen people collected 120 gallons of salt in only fifteen minutes. Sullivan (1981:174) projected that half of the production rate could be maintained over a six hour workday a nd estimated the season high in salt production at four weeks in July and August.

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248 Calculated from a total group of 50 people involved in this activity, over 13,500 bushels of salt could have been collected. This is more than 330,000 kg of salt! 17 Even with a daily intake of 30 g, this would support a total of 11 million people in one day or more than 30,000 people for an entire year. Annual discrepancies and the fact that salt is a finite resource at the site and collection methods can outcompete the solar e vaporation and rates of production, these numbers still show that salt production is beyond local needs. A required addition of 30 g a day is high as well, but would still support more than 30,000 people for a year, while the size of MC 6 (less than 200 m long and 70 m wide, as measured by Sullivan (1981) does not suggest a population of this size. Local production, therefore, exceeds local dietary needs. other parts of the b ody (Keegan 2007) a pattern that Carlson (1993) also recognized in the samples from Governors Beach on Grand Turk. Keegan (2007) argues that this pattern is the result of preparation of fish before transport. The local consumption of a complete fish resul ts in an equal distribution of parts of the body in fish bones. The relative abundance of cranial elements suggests that heads were removed before the rest of the fish was moved elsewhere. Salting and transport benefit if only the most edible part of the f ish is used. The zooarchaeological pattern could be the result of salting practices and transport of salted fish to other regions. To utilize salt, people at MC 6 had to look for a reliable supply of food. This directs attention to other natural resource a vailable to people living at MC 6, namely those from 17 1 bushel is 9.3 gallons. 1 Bushel of salt weighs between 50 lbs (fine salt) and 70 lbs (coarse salt). A low average of 25 kg per bushel is used in this calculation.

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249 the Caicos Bank. Although the salina separates the site from the bank, it is unlikely that the salina was present when people lived at the site (see Chapter 6, as discussed with MC 8/10). Furthermore, th e Caicos Bank is a shallow sea with sandy and sea grass bottom, which is the ideal environment for many animals, especially bonefish and conch. Besides Armstrong Pond and salt, MC 6 has direct access to resources from the Caicos Bank that could be salted. 7.6 Fishing Fishing, therefore, was a large part of MC throughout the Caribbean were diverse, including net fishing, line fishing, traps and poison (deFrance in press; Keegan 2007; LeFebvre et al. 2006; Newsom and Wing 2004; Wing and Wing 2001) Fishermen tend to have certain routines and preferences while fishing, for example the time of day they fish or the bait they use. Other factors that have to be taken into account are the availability of certain species during the yea r. Small seasonal changes occur on the basis of water temperatures, spawning seasons and migration routes. Fishing involves a close interaction between the fisher and the material world. Tools are essential for fishing practices. Fish weirs are constructed to catch or collect fish. Traps and nets are woven from fibers and cotton and net weights and hooks are manufactured from shell or other materials. The weaving of traps is still practiced on many of the Caribbean islands and a wide variety of fibers are u sed. Net weights can be of stone, but Keegan et al. (2009) argue that shell also was used in the Caribbean (primarily Codakia orbicularis and Lucina pectinata ) A wetland site in Florida, Key Marco, preserved organic material and excavations yielded shells with netting still attached. These artifacts are similar in shape and usewear as Caribbean samples,

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250 suggesting similar functions for these tools in the Caribbean past. At MC 6, nine C shaped shell artifacts are possibly net weights. These artifacts are ma de from the dense and durable part of the Queen Conch, the central column, and are only 1 5 cm long. These relatively small artifacts are relatively heavy and could have been hung at the bottom of the nets. Other possible evidence for fishing is shell hook s. Only one hook, made of Queen Conch, however, was found in the materials and four other semicircular tools have dubious functions. Line fishing was practiced, but does not seem to have been the preferred method. Fish lures might have been manufactured a t MC 6 as well. Two shell species, namely Pteria colymbus and Pinctada radiata were locally procured and manufactured into artifacts Pteria colymbus has an Number of Individual Specimens (NISP) of 16, total weight of 12 gr, averaging 0.75 g per specimen, while Pinctada radiata has an NISP of 52, total weight of 34 gr, averaging 0.65 g per specimen. For specimens identified to the species levels, these two have, by far, the lowest average weight. Both are oysters and are characterized by their iridescent l ining on the inside. Furthermore, Pteria colymbus occasionally holds pearls. Pinctada radiata is edible and is caught for consumption, but Pteria colymbus is unpalatable. The high NISP and the low average weight of all shell combined are evidence that thes e species were specifically targeted for their shiny pearl insides. These shiny pearl insides reflect the sunlight in shallow waters and attract the attention of fishes, and thus make excellent fish lures.

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251 Figure 7 10 C shape artifacts, possibly used as net weights. Figure 7 11 Pieces of Pteria colymbus and Pinctada radiata possible used for the manufacture of fish lures. The shiny pearl on the shell is noticeable.

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252 Obtaining resources for fishing nets, net weights and traps is not too difficult on Midd le Caicos. Shells are abundant in this marine environment and can be gathered in MC O'Day (2002) states that the resources are beyond the boundaries of a 5 km radius, she assumes that the salina was dry at the time the site was occupied. Fibers for fish traps were likely growing on the island. Although direct evidence for the presence of fibers on the island is absent, the locally produced pottery indicates that people at MC 6 were well aware of woven fibers and tools. This excavations yield a total of 128 local sherds with clear impressions of basketry. This technique is most commonly used on griddles, used for cooking purposes, and very specific to the Bahamian archipelago (Berman and Hutcheson 2000; Hutcheson 199 9, in press) The technology and materials for weaving basketry, therefore, were available to the people at MC 6. In addition, Middle Caicos supports one of the most active local basket production centers, using all local materials, anywhere in the Caribbe an. Figure 7 12 Basketry impressed Palmetto ware. All three sherds are pieces of griddles

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253 Shell remains provide another line of evidence for basketry weaving or trap construction. Twenty three shell tools, labeled needles, were excavated during the fiel d season. These tools are relatively thin pieces of Queen Conch shell and elongated with one flat and one pointy end. Two more very similar artifacts are present, but these have two flat ends and no point. The exact function of these tools is unclear, but it is possible that these were used as needles for weaving baskets. Fish bones, such as ribs and spines were possibly used as tools for these practices too. The two artifacts without pointy ends could have been used as spacers to maintain a consistent patt ern across the artifact. Despite their unclear function, the high quantity of this specific type of artifact indicates that it was used for a common practice at the site. Figure 7 13 Needles made of conch. Some specimens have two flat sides and might hav e been used as spacers People went out on the Caicos Bank and targeted bonefish, which comprise the most common bones in the samples from MC 6, but other fish were also caught. Other

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254 resources, such as turtles and conch, were caught as well (Keegan 2007; S inelli 2010; Sullivan 1981) Conch is still a local specialty of the Caicos Islands and is one of the major export products. The zooarchaeological analysis underlines how important fish and other marine resource were in past diets. Although other animals a re present as well, such as birds and iguana, fish were the main source of protein. People at MC 6 regularly fished the Caicos Bank to procure these resources. Canoes are, necessarily, a part of fishing. Besides the fact that people could not have colonize d the Caribbean region without seafaring technology, these fishing trips must have relied on canoes. The ethnohistoric sources describe the canoes that the ability to mane uver them on the waters. The English word canoe comes from the indigenous name of this vessel; kanoa Yet canoes or other related artifacts are rarely found and very little material evidence is present for canoes. One of the few artifacts that has been re trieved, is a paddle from Grand Turk (Carlson 1999) The paddle is dated to the 11 th century, clearly placing it in a prehistoric context. Canoes would have been essential for people living at MC 6. The canoes used at MC 6 are likely non local. Columbus (D unn and Kelley 1989) and Fernndez de Oviedo y Valds (1851) both commented on the immense size of canoes that were cut from one complete tree. The Ceiba or Silk Cotton tree was used to build canoes, the largest native tree in the region. The climate, howe ver, on the Caicos Islands is not conducive for the growth of these giant trees and canoes had to be imported into the region. For Middle Caicos, Hispaniola is the closest place from which canoes could have been imported. Without the introduction of canoes people at MC 6

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255 would have been very isolated and their export would have come to a halt. A stable contact for canoes was necessary to maintain production. The importance of trade in canoes and the creation of intersubjective exchange relations is also em phasized by Munn (1977, 1986) in her Melanesian context. 7.7 Cotton Pre Columbian availability of cotton at MC 6 is less certain than salt and fish. Cotton is a cultigen. To grow cotton, fields must be cleared by chopping down trees and bushes, stones nee d to be removed, soil has to be tilled, seeds must be planted and the cotton balls must be harvested. The harvested cotton balls are either transported as raw materials or spun and woven into cotton products, such as hammocks, cloths and fishing nets. Most of the artifacts involved in these practices are not particular to the growing and processing of cotton. However, there are suggestions that cotton was a major product at MC 6. Even if the evidence for cotton production is weak, gardening must have been a significant part of the local economy. Tools involved in gardening practices are not necessarily restricted to cotton and other agricultural products must have been produced as well. The garden was probably located in the area that Sullivan (1981) designa ted a second plaza. Because Keegan (2007) did not find any archaeological remains in this area, he interpreted it as a gardening area. Yet, the energy that was invested in this part of the landscape, as the location is completely empty of stones and seems surrounding the site were also used, such as north of the central plaza, but this was less formal and small heaps of stones are spread everywhere. Stones are present everywhere on Midd le Caicos, so these heaps are probably the result of clearing an

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256 area for gardening purposes (Sullivan 1981) To free up space for cultigens, stones were placed together, forming small piles while the remaining area was used to plant crops. If the people a t MC 6 practiced slash and burn for their farming, however, then larger trees and other obstacles would still be present in the garden. The formation of small stone piles or completely emptying the area of rocks would have been severely hindered by these o bstacles. This suggests that this garden was cleared of all vegetation. Special attention was directed toward the construction of this garden, which is probably the r esult of more formal gardening practices involving a high status, valuable crop. The first stage of gardening involves clearing fields with axes. One small greenstone axe was found during excavations in 2010, but this axe was too small for cutting down tre es. Sullivan (1981:372) recovered four broken axes and Brian Riggs collected another greenstone axe near the pond (Keegan personal communication 2012). After the field is cleared, the vegetation is left to dry and then burned. After that, the field is prep ared for planting. Shell artifacts for gardening purposes were found. In total, six hoes, ten fragments of hoes and two possible preforms were found in the 2010 excavation units. These hoes could have been used to mix the burned vegetation into the soil, t ill the soil, build small mounds to increase production and harvest root crops. Wooden digging sticks could have been used for these practices as well. Shell hoes are basically the lip of the Queen Conch shell, rounded at the bottom and either used by

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257 hand or placed on a stick. Most of the artifacts show significant wear on the rounded edge of the shell, which is evidence for prolonged and heavy use. Figure 7 14 Green stone axe. Although the item is broken, the edge is still smooth and in relation to its small size for an axe, the artifact does not seem to have been manufactured for only utilitarian purposes. Figure 7 15 Complete or broken hoes. All are made of the lip of the conch shell.

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258 A wide variety of cultigens was likely grown in these gardens, in cluding bitter manioc, corn, squash, beans, peppers, peanuts, pineapple, palm nuts and Zamia roots (Rouse 1992) Nowadays, one mango tree grows in Bambarra, but a local who grew up in St. Vincent commented on how barren Middle Caicos is and especially desp ised its lack of fruits. Agricultural potential on Middle Caicos is low. Most soils have a calcium carbonate base, which lacks nutrients for plants, and clays to retain water. In the dry environment serve water for drier periods is a significant disadvantage for agricultural practices. In contrast to most soils in these islands, the pockets of red clays do hold nutrients and water. These characteristics make these red clay soils highly desired as the agricultural potential of these soils is far better than those of surrounding soils. That people were well aware of these soil qualities of local grounds is attested by f the northern ridge between structure IV and V and inside structure IV. XRD analysis of samples from these locations, as mentioned, indicates a pattern different from the surrounding soils or the red clay pocket. Quartz percentages of these samples are 4. 8%, 10.9% and 29.5% respectively These numbers are much larger than the percentages from the other locations within and outside the site, but significantly lower (63.2%) discussed previously. Furthermore, hematite or iron oxide, so characteristic of these red clays, is totally absent. In conclusion, t hese samples are between the two extremes that occur in the natural environment, namely

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259 predominantly calcite with very little (<3%) quartz and red clays that consist of q uartz hematite and some clays. This difference between the availability of quartz suggests that soils were moved around. Quartz is non local and only found in the red clays. Furthermore, particle size is small, as it is trans ported by air to these islands. The small size of the quartz particles makes it impossible to select these particles from the matrix of the red clays. T hese red clays locally known as pineapple soils, are rich in nutrients and specific plants grown extrem ely well here. In the past, people collected these nutrient rich soils and distributed them in the garden s Hence, the presence of quartz in these three locations is the result of enrichment of local soils with red clay. People actively moved richer soils to the east and north side of the site to increase the quality of the gardens. Furthermore, the small quartz particles retain water and prevent immediate leaching of water and nutrients during rain (John Jaeger, personal communication 2012). Water attache s to the small particles of quartz in a similar way as it does clay In a hot and dry environment like MC 6, a dding small quartz particles to the soils might have made a valuable difference in times of a drought Besides the nutrients, the capacity of thes e red soils to retain water after rain increases the success of harvest. The absence of hematite is another line of evidence that these soils were added for agricultural purposes. Hematite is an iron oxide (Fe 2 O 3 ) and comprises 36.8% of the total sample of red clay and causes the red color of this soil. Hematite does not leach from the soil and the red color remains over time. However, when organic materials are mixed with these hematite rich soils, a chemical reaction from Fe 3+ to Fe 2+ is initiated. In

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260 con trast to Fe 3+ Fe 2+ does leach from the soil and disappears over time (Jonathan MC 6 is caused by people trying to enrich these soils with organic materials, changing i ts chemical composition and ultimately causing iron to leach from the soil. A final line of evidence that these soil relocation practices are meaningful and purposeful is that quartz is restricted to certain areas of the site. A possible explanation for t his localized occurrence is that the tested locations are local deposits of the red these local pockets of red clay accumulate in depressions in the environment. Furthe rmore, quartz percentages from inside structure IV and from the location in between structure IV and V are very high, whereas the sample from the midden area just north of structure IV yields only 1.9% of quartz. This sample is located in closer proximity to structure IV (5 m) than the sample between IV and V (34 m). 18 The difference could be the result of a depression in the pre MC 6 environment that cannot be observed nowadays, as the bedrock inside structure IV is 60 cm lower than the bedrock beneath the midden area, but these samples are from the northern part of the site which Sullivan (1981) interpreted as garden areas. Hence, the difference in hematite content between the natural red clay samples with high quartz content within the site, basically rest ricted to areas designated as garden areas, is evidence that people consciously moved and altered soils to increase production and overcome the challenges that are posed by natural soils surrounding the area. Although the movement of soil might seem an ext reme practice, Roth (2002) showed that the central 18 This distance is measured from GPS points taken i n the field. The GPS used in the field often had an error margin of approximately 4 m, although the points of structure IV and the midden area were taken over longer periods of time to reduce that margin and, therefore, are more reliable.

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261 plaza was made of soil from the salina and people living at MC 6 did transport and deposit soils elsewhere at MC 6. Besides the possible lack of sufficient fresh water, crops grown near the salina must hav e been salt tolerant. The constant trade wind still blows salt onto the site and crops that cannot stand saline conditions will not last. Certain species, such as peanuts, cassava, corn and peppers are all sensitive to salt according to the Food and Agricu lture Organization of the United Nations (FAO 2012) Although corn was grown along the road from Bambarra to Lorimers on Middle Caicos, indicating that salt does not completely restrict this crop from growing here, conditions are not ideal. Despite the la ck of good soils, agricultur al production is still possible. C onditions on Middle Caicos are far from ideal to produce vast quantities of agricultural products but local needs can be met Making a living from agricultural products is possible, but substan tial time and labor are necessary Yields from local gardens, therefore, we re likely for local consumption only and we re not produced for export to larger population centers. Production for export requires too much energy investment to make it worthwhile. Cotton, on the other hand, is very tolerant of salt and grows extremely well in saline conditions. Furthermore, cotton does not require nutrient rich soils and only needs minimal amounts of water. Actually, in the period after germination, particularly dur ing the time that the cotton bolls are exposed, rain has a detrimental effect on the quality of cotton. The dry climate of Middle Caicos is extremely well suited for the

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262 production of cotton, whereas people have severe difficulties in growing other crops i n these regions. 19 Besides preferential natural conditions, other evidence suggests that cotton was grown. Nowadays, wild cotton still grows just east of the site near the edge of the salina. The location of these plants is important. The seeds for these pl ants could have been blown over from adjacent historic plantations, but cotton plants would then also be expected at the edge of Armstrong Pond and other more open environments for example. Except for this location, no cotton was observed during my fieldwo rk. Furthermore, the location where the plants grow is exactly the garden area identified by Keegan (2007) who reports that these plants have been observed in this location in the past 30 years with no evidence of human cultivation. This seems hardly a co incidence. Figure 7 16 Cotton growing on the edge of the pond. Multiple plants were scattered in the area to the east of the central plaza at MC 6. 19 See Appendix F for contemporary climatic data that combines temperature and precipitation. The Turks & Caicos Islands stand out as hot and dry environments, even in relation to other Caribbean regions.

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263 Columbus was gifted enormous quantities of cotton when he entered the Bahamian archipelago (Dunn and Kelle y 1989) Although spindle whorls are good archaeological indicators of cotton production, these artifacts are rarely encountered in archaeological sites in the region. Except of a study on eastern Puerto Rico, where Torres and Carlson (2011) found a large quantity of spindle whorls from pre colonial archaeological sites, few archaeological indicators of a fiber industry are found. The contradiction between ethnohistorical documents mentioning the importance of cotton and the absence of archaeological indica tors at MC 6 could be a product of the use of different, perishable materials or a completely different set of artifacts. Another possible explanation is that these practices were restricted to certain areas within the site that have not been excavated. Ot her artifacts used in the processing of cotton are needles, for weaving purposes. The needles discussed above in relation to basketry could also have been used for cotton. The same holds true for fish bones as tools for these practices. Finally, the c shap ed net weights could also be used as spacers for weaving and basketry, as they lack sharp edges and would not cut the fiber. 20 Despite the lack of direct evidence, the formal layout of the garden, the significant investment of energy in clearing the area o f stones and adding soils from elsewhere, material evidence of formalized tools for gardening purposes, beneficial environmental circumstances and current cotton plants at the site, all argue that gardening practices did not involve a mundane crop at MC 6. Rather, the special qualities of the site and the gardens suggest that an important crop was grown in large quantities at the site. This crop was, most likely, cotton. 20 These artifacts are found at other sites in the region, but their f unction is unclear. Another possibility is products of tool production and are not tools in and of themselves.

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264 7.8 Material Conditions of MC 6 Practices involved in the exploitation and production o f salt, fish and cotton are restricted by very specific material boundaries. While other practices can be performed on almost a daily basis throughout the year, the practices in these major economies at MC 6 cannot. The taskscapes of these individual resou rces have material restrictions Salt production is relatively straightforward. Available salt is scraped from the surface of the salt pond, collected in larger piles and transported to the site. A taskscape of salt production is small as few practices are incorporated into this process. However, the production process is restricted by one material condition, namely the availability of salt. People can manage Armstrong Pond to a certain degree, and they did by placing alignments that direct the influx of fresh water, but they are still dependent upon the presence of favorable conditions for solar evaporation and natural salt production. Although relatively simple, the taskscape of salt production is bounded by salt itself. Hence, practices within the production process are dependent on the availability of salt at the edges of Armstrong Pond. Most factors that determine the rate of production remain relative constants, such as the salinity of source wa ter, depth of the pond, surface area, and wind. Two factors, however, are variable; solar energy and precipitation. Throughout the year, solar energy and precipitation differ and strictly control the availability of salt. In order for salt to crystalize at Armstrong Pond, solar energy needs to be high and precipitation needs to be low. These two factors form the material boundary for a taskscape of salt.

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265 Two times during the year, these conditions occur (Sears and Sullivan 1978) At the end of the dry seaso n, in the months April and May, lack of rainfall and increased solar energy after winter are conducive to the formation of salt crystals. Rains dilute the salinity levels in the pond, but also decrease the temperature of the water and cloud cover reduces s olar energy, terminating salt production. In June, the rains disappear and Middle Caicos is dry again. Solar energy is highest in this period and, at Middle Caicos, capable of compensating for the loss of salinity due to dilution by rain water. In addition solar energy is highest during the day and crystals are mostly produced during midday. Sullivan (1981) observed a second period of salt production, namely four weeks in July and August. Afterward, solar energy decreases again and rainstorms occur in asso ciation with hurricanes. According to Sullivan (1981) the four week period in July and August is the high season for salt production. Fish is available year round on Middle Caicos. The Caicos Bank is an incredible marine resource that constantly harbors m any resources. However, species do vary through time and shifts in availability do occur. Not all species occupy the flats throughout the year. Other species are available year round, but have peaks in certain months. These periodic changes in fish are mat erial boundaries that restrict fishing practices for certain species and are dependent on spawning seasons and water temperature. At MC 6, zooarchaeological data from my 2010 excavations suggests that people fished very specifically. The data from the midd en area and inside structure IV based on weight, yield ed 28 .0% Albula vulpes and 31 9 % Acintopterygii All other fish were 3.0% or less based on weight. The high percentage of Albula vulpes, commonly known

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266 as bonefish, suggests that many of the specimens identified to the family level are, in fact, bonefish as well. These quantities are consistent with previous analysis at the site by O'Day (2002) Today, bonefishing is very popular in the Bahamas and tourists spend their holidays fishing for this species However, bonefish are not eaten and only caught, because they are difficult to catch and struggle when hooked on a line. Most people do not like the taste of bonefish and it is common practice to release the fish. Even in other prehistoric Caribbean site s, bonefish is not a common food. The people at MC 6 did eat the fish and specifically targeted this species. This might have had two reasons. First, bonefish feed in small schools on invertebrates in shallow waters, which makes capture by net efficient. M lipids are located in the liver (Murchie et al. 2010) After cleaning out the viscera, most exampl e, in salmon, tuna or eel). The lack of oils facilitates salting practices, because lipids are difficult to extract and there is a higher chance of spoilage. This is why cod, Bonef ish are available year round, but local fishing guides point to March, April and May as the high season. The shallow waters of the banks are too warm in June, July and August and the fish migrate to deeper waters. However, bonefish can still be caught duri ng these months, as long as fishing happens early in the morning. The water cools down enough at night for the fish to reenter the flats and feed on these shallow banks. If fishing happens early, then bonefish season stretches from late spring to early sum mer.

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267 Although not as restrictive as the material conditions for salt production, fishing for bonefish is still dependent on periodically shifting circumstances. The archaeological record indicates a high preference for bonefish, which has a high season bet ween March and August. This strongly suggests that fishing practices mainly took place during that same period. Although fishing for bonefish could have occurred in other months as well, the revenues would be significantly lower per invested time. Consider ing salt production, cotton production and fishing, the taskscape for cotton production is the most complex of the three. To produce this crop, multiple steps of preparation and maintenance are necessary. Cotton production forms part of a delayed reciproca l system where investments are made and revenues are collected much later. These practices involve tilling, planting, maintaining and harvesting the crop. Success of cotton production is also restricted by material conditions and certain qualities determin e when these practices take place. Cotton seeds only germinate and grow when soil temperatures are consistently above 60 degrees. After germination, the cotton plant grows for two months before it forms flowers. The flowers last for three weeks then fall, leaving a green pod behind. This pod is the cotton boll, which produces the fibers after maturation. These bolls are open for about six weeks and harvest needs to take place before the quality diminishes or rains color it yellow and knock it to the ground (Cotton Counts 2012; Yafa 2005) On Middle Caicos, temperature of the soil is not a limiting factor and is above the minimum temperature year round. However, fresh water is scarce and a limiting factor for cotton production. Germination requires water and droughts delay the growth cycle. After germination, however, rain showers are unwelcome and potentially ruin harvests.

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268 Rains, therefore, are essential, but only at specific times. Hence, tilling and planting need to occur before the rainy season starts in May (Yafa 2005) Although in most subtropical and tropical climates cotton production is possible year round, MC the availability of water, determine when cotton is grown. Becau se tilling, planting and harvesting are all practices that are dependent upon the growth cycle of cotton, these practices are structured by the availability of water. In order to maximize production, all practices must be performed in relation to the rains in May. Tilling and planting happens just before the rains come, and 3 4 months later harvest takes place. If germination occurs in the middle of May, then tilling and planting occurs in March and April and harvest is done at the end of August, September and October. 7.9 Seasonality Practices involved in the exploitation of salt, fish and cotton are strictly bounded by the changing conditions of the material world according to the seasons. All three resources are not homogenously distributed throughout the year and are more available at certain times than others. MC 6 spatially concentrates access to these three resources, but every resource has its own time of the year. Practices in the taskscape of salt are condensed at the end of the dry season and at th e height of summer; fishing mostly takes place between May and August; practices involved in cotton production are concentrated in February to March and August to October. Seasonality is the decisive material condition that structures human practices in a yearly cycle. that is objective and omnipresent. Seasonality is experienced by people through practices that are time specific. The rhythm of the seasons determines what pe ople can

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269 do and what is possible in the world, guiding actions and performances. If people want to exploit salt at MC 6, then they are bounded to the times when it is available. These periods when salt is available become important, only because people hav e to change their daily activities. However, if salt was not a desired product and demand was low, people would have neglected this material and focused on something else. Seasonality, as a concept of different times of the year, is a direct product of pra ctices that are dependent upon these changes. As long as these changes affect daily life, even in the smallest of ways, people will differentiate and notice these changes. It all depends if these material conditions alter what people do. The standard diff erentiation, however, into four seasons had no repercussions for daily life in the prehistoric Caribbean. The changes between spring, summer, autumn and winter are strongly dependent on weather changes, especially in temperature, in the Western world. In m ost of the northern hemisphere, these changes influence to do with material conditions and cycles in the Caribbean, because these drastic changes in temperature simpl y do not occur. On Middle Caicos, temperatures are relatively constant throughout the year and it is extremely doubtful that the four seasons were as important in the past as they are in the Western world today. Seasonal differentiation in the Caribbean i s not dependent on change in temperatures as much as it is on changes in precipitation. Whereas the temperature remains relatively constant throughout the year, precipitation is distributed disproportionately. Most of the year is dry, but rains start in Ma y and drastically change the weather pattern. In addition, hurricane season lasts from the beginning of June until

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270 October and immediately follows the onset of rains. Even though weather patterns differ between regions and even islands, this general patter n of increased precipitation starting in May and subsequent possibility of tropical depressions and hurricanes is experienced throughout the Caribbean region. The distinction between the wet and dry season is of major importance throughout the circum Carib bean region. Returning to MC seasons must have been part of the local economy. Salt is available during a couple of weeks before the wet season starts and then it takes a couple of months for Armstrong Pond to recuperate from the large influx of fresh water. The taskscape of cotton is completely dependent on the rains and practices are oriented toward the time when the rains start. Tilling and planting occurs in time for the first rain, so the available fresh water can be utilized maximally. Because of this timing in relation to the first rains, harvest is indirectly dependent upon the wet season as well. Practices involved in both economic resources are time sensitive in relation to the sta rt of the wet season. Hence, the wet season affected past practices and structured how people organized their economy. From a practice oriented approach, then, it must be acknowledged that this change was considered important and provided a framework of re ference for future practices. In summary, a change in practices is accompanied by a change in precipitation. The availability of the three major economic resources at MC 6 is highly variable and dependent on seasonal weather conditions. Precipitation bring s a structural material condition that people must adhere to and observe if they want to economically focus on all of these resources. In order to exploit salt and cotton, the start of the rains in May is

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271 a vital moment within both production cycles. The d istinction between the wet and dry season does not emanate out of the presence or absence of specific resources and a engage with these resources. The seasonal difference bet ween wet and dry is an experienced and practiced distinction, a distinction that is grounded in past practices of people living at MC 6. Therefore, the perspective outlined above approaches indigenous categories of seasonal variation, rather than a mere pr ojection of contemporary models into the past. 7.10 Temporality The seasonal differentiation in practices and the repetitive yearly cycles underline their temporal character. People exploiting the salt resources at the end of the dry season are aware of th e second opportunity they will have in the summer and tilling and planting practices of cotton are completely oriented to the harvest later that year. These practices and cycles are known to people because of the experiences in the past. People are knowled geable about these repetitive structures, because of a long history of dwelling at MC 6 and other places where these resources are extracted. Temporalities of these taskscapes are constantly attended to and people are managing and planning when to start ce rtain practices and stop others. Material conditions of the environment dictate when salt, fish and cotton are available. Because people at MC 6 chose to exploit these resources, a yearly cycle of related practices can be reconstructed that is based on the se material conditions of the environment. During the months of February, March and April, people tilled the soil and planted seeds. Everything related to cotton production is prepared in expectation of the coming rains that are needed to produce the plant At first, the garden needs a lot of

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272 work and everything needs to be cleaned, but after the seeds are planted, things are quiet. At the moment that the cotton planting becomes less demanding, larger groups of bonefish start to appear on the flats. Fishing practices are much more successful than in previous months and many more fish are caught per trip. At the same time, salt crystalizes at the edge of the pond and can be harvested. When the rains start in May and June, life is relatively quiet. Fishing rev enues are still high, as bonefish occupy the flats in massive quantities, but gardens need only little maintenance and salt is not produced at the moment. Not coincidentally, this period of respite from terrestrial endeavors, in which the people of MC 6 en gaged primarily in work on the open seas, was when mosquitos rule the island. In July, the weather is drier, except for the occasional hurricane or tropical depression. If fishing happens in the early morning, bonefish are still plentiful. Furthermore, Ar mstrong Pond starts to produce salt again, now in even larger quantities then before. To maximize production, all freshly produced salt needs to be extracted and transported away from the salina. All attention is directed to the production of new salt, rat her than further drying out the already produced salts. Cotton plants are flowering, but do not require attention as of yet. At the end of August, solar energy diminishes and salt production comes to a halt. At this moment, the cotton bolls are open and th e fibers can be collected. The timing of the harvest, of course, is dependent upon how fast the cotton grew over the summer and if tropical depressions or hurricanes are threatening the harvest. The period in which harvest takes place can extend until Octo ber. The bolls are harvested and stored to protect them from rains or other misfortunes that ruin their quality.

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273 Between October and April, no economic practices involved in the production of salt or cotton occurs and bonefish are likely caught only in sma ll quantities. The dry season is perfect for other activities, such as production of pottery, manufacturing and repairing of fishing nets, (re)building alignments that direct fresh water into Armstrong Pond or constructing the road. Pottery production is a lso ideal during this period, because sudden rains can totally destroy all pots and these chances are lowest during the dry season. Other practices, including the production of wooden artifacts and shell tools as described above, take place during this rel atively slow period as well. Finally, the risk of hurricanes or tropical depressions is lowest between the months of October and April. October is often avoided by sailors in the region, because winds are variable, but the lack of wind might not have been a significant factor for people who moved on the ocean by manual power (paddling) instead of than wind energy. MC economy was based upon export of local products to other places. Long distance travels and exchange is preferred during these months. Salt ed fish lasts for at least a year and can still be moved within this time period. Voyages last multiple days and products in the canoe are worth a substantial amount. It is foolish to risk losing all your wealth to weather conditions, when these are predic table and can be avoided. This quiet period of activities at MC 6 coincides with the best period for long duration exchanges and it is likely that people plan these voyages for months in which the water is safe. It is obvious that the decisions for these p articular economic practices, involving the economic exploitation of salt, fish and cotton, are far from haphazard, but form a productive yearly cycle in which designated seasonal activities succeed each other.

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274 Throughout the year, the economy changes and attention is constantly directed to the resources that are available at time specific intervals. The combination of salt, fish and cotton is not only chosen because these products are scarce and in high demand, but also because the exploitation of both res ources happens at different months and taskscapes of these resources are compatible with each other. If both the high season for cotton and salt, for example, overlapped, decisions would have to be made and labor would have to be divided. As it stands, all available labor can be employed fully on one resource at a time and maximize revenue. Furthermore, these three resources leave a void from October to March, which is the perfect time to exchange these products overseas. In summary, the four taskscapes, in cluding salt and cotton production, fishing and long distance exchange, constitute a highly compatible yearly cycle in which people can fully exploit the seasonal heights of valued products and opportunities. 7.11 A Caribbean Economy of Substances So far, two sets of relationships between taskscapes of salt, cotton and fish have been established. First, all these taskscapes are spatially concentrated at MC 6. Specific environmental conditions at the site amalgamate these resources at a central material poin t in the landscape. The second set is temporal, as these taskscapes are compatible with one another. Repetitive yearly cycles emanate from season specific abundances of these resources. Hence, relationships are established between people, their environment and their yearly cycle. However, if this is truly an economy of substances (Thomas 1996, 1999) one last set of relationships must be explored to fully understand how people engage with their lived in world, namely objects.

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275 Salt is an object that is consu med and used as a preservative. Salt is a dietary necessity, especially in the tropical climate of the Caribbean where perspiration and secretion of salt requires compensation. For most places within the archipelago, the sea is an adequate source. However, further inland, especially in the Greater Antilles, salt is scarce. Besides salt, a stable resource of proteins is also lacking in these regions, because large terrestrial fauna are absent. In the Caribbean, fish does not last longer than a week, even if kept in a cool and dry environment (Caribbean Commission 1952) The rapid decay of protein sources and distance between the sea and inland settlements both restrict day to day transport of goods and people, but salted fish can overcome these problems and w ould be a perfect adaptation to these circumstances. Salted fish cures and can be accumulated and shipped in bulk. Furthermore, salted fish overcomes the lack of protein and salt in these inland regions at the same time, maximizing its potential. Yet, beca use fish decays so quickly, salt must be present when fish are caught and processed. The exploitation of fish has no function with re s p ect to the export of fish if salt is absent and the fish is left to decay. In the case of MC 6, fishing for export is use less after all salt is exported and Armstrong Pond is no longer producing. The material qualities of fish demand the presence of salt, if this resource is to be used beyond local consumption. Fishing practices have to be adjusted to the production of salt. The taskscape of fish is directly related to the taskscape of salt. It is, therefore, not surprising to see that fishing practices mainly target a fish (bonefish) that is abundant on the Caicos Bank during the same season as salt production. Other fish ha ve different seasons or live in different environments, such as

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276 reef and pelagic fish. The obvious preference of bonefish in the sample of MC 6 is as much the result of cultural practices and preferences as it is of material conditions posed by the availab between the material world and the intentions of people. Salt and fish, therefore, comprise one taskscape, as both practices are interdependent. The height of the salt season, between July and August, does not coincide with the season of the bonefish, unless fishing happens early in the morning. This is not out of the realm of possibility. Salt raking is labor intensive and physically demanding work and often practiced during the cool of the night (Bitterman 2010; Ewald 1985; Kurlansky 2003; McKillop 2002) Freshly produced salt is extracted every day when the sun goes down and the heat subsides. Whereas salt was raked in the late evening and early night, the few hours before sunrise wo uld have been used to catch bonefish on the flats. This division of labor throughout the day avoids the heat and the afternoons could be used to rest and enjoy the shade and breeze. Cotton also plays an essential role in the network of related practices. F irst, the tilling of the soil and the planting of the seeds cannot take place at the same time when salt is available, i.e. when salt is the main economic focus. To maximize the production of salt, all attention and labor is devoted to this product. Tillin g and planting practices are directly related to salt production and, hence, fishing practices. The same holds true for harvest, which must be after the salt production halts. Both cotton and salt are highly valued products, so to maximize benefits both pr actices need to occur at different times. Although distinct, the practices are adjusted to each other.

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277 importance at MC 6 is directly related to fishing and the abundance of marine resources on the Caicos Bank. These fish were likely caught with nets, which are made of cotton. So, in order to maximize the profits from salt, fishing efficiency must be maximized. To maximize fishing practices, cotton needs to be produced. A cycle of codependence between each of these products emerges. To use salt, people need to fish and to fish, people need to grow cotton. To exploit one, people need all three. This relational property between cotton and the other two resources is another su ggestion that supports the hypothesis that people at MC 6 produced cotton. This relational perspective between all these practices is missed when objects are absent in the argument. The network of codependent practices emanates from the uses of tools made of specific materials. Cotton nets are as important as the fish and the salt in this economy. The movement of salt from the salt pond to the site and beyond might have happened in cotton bags to facilitate transport. Not the practices per se but the cruci al role of objects and how objects structure daily practices truly produces the links between these acts of dwelling. The circulation of salt, fish and cotton creates local identities and histories and forms an economy of substances (Thomas 1996, 1999) 7 .12 The Temporality of a Caribbean Taskscape The temporality of the taskscape of MC 6 involves much more than the independent succession of certain practices per time of year. Although separated by time, these practices are constantly linked through the pe rception of people. The relationships between these different resources and activities involved in the exploitation are founded in one another. The tilling of the soil and the planting of the seeds is done in anticipation of the harvest, which produces cot ton. The cotton is

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278 produced with a very specific goal in mind, namely the export of the raw product, but also the ability to make nets. The nets are made with a future practice in mind as well, namely the fishing of bonefish on the flats. And again, the fi shing is only done in reference to the presence of salt. Practices associated with salt, cotton and fish are dependent upon one another and related through time, space and material conditions. Hence, they comprise one total taskscape in which every practi ce occurs only in reference to another. Isolated practices, happening without any relation to other activities, do not occur. The economy of MC 6 is incredibly focused and adapted to seasonal changes, regional demands and the availability of products that are necessary for the exploitation of its main resources. The temporality of the prehistoric taskscape of MC 6 comprises a yearly cycle of strongly related endeavors that all work together. This taskscape is a concept that is founded on practices, local p erceptions of the environment and how people relate to their world. This practice oriented relational approach approximates indigenous creations of local space and time, because the foundation of these creations is founded in past practices rather than in contemporary perspectives about the past. This perspective also emphasizes how all practices are future oriented and people consciously managed and planned their economic behaviors in respect to time. This future oriented perception of people at MC 6 and i ts taskscape is also materialized in the meticulous and obsessive efforts of local people to track time. The alignments on the central plaza of MC 6 point to celestial bodies that mark very specific moments in time. Sirius, Vega, Altair, Fomalheut, Alpha C rucis, Orion and the summer

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279 solstice are the main bodies to which the alignments point. All these stars and constellations move through the sky and appear and disappear at very regular intervals. These intervals are important. Sirius is the brightest star in the sky and is visible most of the year, except for a ten week hiatus. Between the middle of April and the Summer Solstice, Sirius leaves the sky. Vega is part of the constellation Lyra and the fifth brightest star in the night sky. Because of precessio n of the equinoxes, the term pole star, now referring to Polaris, Vega is known as one of the three stars that form the Summer Triangle. With Deneb and Altair, another sta r that is referenced by the alignments, the summer triangle is situated right above the sky in the northern hemisphere during summer. In spring, the triangle appears in the early morning and in autumn, it is still seen until November. The stars also appear at twilight dusk in middle to late June and at dusk and early evening at the end of summer. Fomalheut is visible low on the horizon during fall and early winter. Alpha Crucis is the brightest star in the constellation commonly known as the Southern Cross. It is visible year round in the southern hemisphere, but only in winter and spring in the northern hemisphere. Procyon, is the eighth brightest star and forms, together with Betelgeuse and Sirius, the Winter Triangle. In March, Procyon is at its highest p oint and in June it sets not long after dark. Late winter through spring, the Winter Triangle is easiest to recognize (Earthsky 2012) Orion is a very well known constellation, commonly known as the Hunter. In native South American cosmologies this formati (Keegan and Carlson 2008:18) Betelgeuse, the star referenced by the alignments,

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280 Rigel and Bellatrix are all three incredibly bright stars, making Orion easy to recognize when it is in the night sky. However, i n March Orion disappears to return in the sky in July. From July onwards, Orion rises into the sky until mid September, when its sits at the center at dawn. In mid December, Orion is in the middle of the sky during the night. These cycles through which Ori vernal equinox (Keegan and Carlson 2008) The temporality of MC celestial bodies. The repetitive cycles of these stars were observed throughout th e years and reference times that were important to people at MC 6. The alignments were not made to observe these important moments, but were a product of these observations. By materializing these points within the landscape with durable materials, people observed the movement of stars in more detail and predict when Orion would disappear from the sky or when Vega appeared. The alignments were the result of these observations and predictions. The structures at the central plaza were constructed to facilitat e the tracking of time through these celestial bodies. Time was a construct of practice, rather than an arbitrary assignment of days, minutes and hours. The meaning that these celestial bodies had at MC 6 have little to do with the four seasons, as discuss ed above, but much more with the distinction between the dry and the wet season and all its related practices. The Winter Triangle is high in the night sky when the conditions at sea are calm and risks are low for long distance travelling. As soon as the S ummer Triangle appears, the gardens need to be tilled and the seeds of cotton must be planted. When Orion slowly moves away and becomes invisible, practices need to focus on the production of salt and catching fish. This moment in

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281 uces the wet season and the start of the rains. When Orion is back and appears in July, the high season for salt production nears again. When Orion is near the center of the sky at dawn, cotton is ready to be harvested. In mid December, at the winter solst ice, there is still time to travel, but when Orion starts to descend again, long distance voyages become less frequent as the soils for cotton harvest need to be tilled again. Figure 7 17 A calendar of yearly routines, celestial cycles in relation to th e months The temporality of this prehistoric Caribbean taskscape incorporates observations of celestial cycles in reference to local practices. The changes in the patterns of celestial bodies coincide with the changes in practices. The local correspondence of these economic and celestial cycles results in an emphasis on its importance and the construction of these alignments. This also means that people attend to the stars when

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282 they perform certain practices, including navigation to Hispaniola and back, and are constantly evaluating their position in reference to earthly practices and concerns. The economic activities are not only interdependent and synchronized they also form a whole of practices that included observations of celestial bodies and physical movement in the landscape. 7.13 The Distinction Between Wet and Dry This network of relations between economic practices, yearly cycles, exchange relations and movements of celestial bodies is too complex to be kept as a list, as Thomas (1996, 1999) rightf ully points out. He argues that these networks are founded on and created through simplified structures from which people draw and gather knowledge while engaging with the world. For MC 6, this simplified structure seems to be based on a categorical distin ction between wet and dry as abstract divisions. Wet and dry became conceptual instruments through which value was negotiat ed by the inhabitants living at MC 6 This distinction, as fundamental as the nature culture dichotomy present in Western thought (Dw yer 1996; Latour 1993) local perception of the environment and practices. Salt emerges from the water through evapo ration and although salt can be tasted in seawater, it is in visible and only becomes apparent after crystallization Su fficient evaporation only takes place in a hot and dry environment and the salt accrues at the edges where water and land meet. Cot ton is extracted on the land and also thrives in dry and hot climates Cotton needs to be planted when the soil is warm and r equires a wet season after planting for germination. However, precipitation would ruin the harvest when the cotton is flow ering and cotton bolls are maturing; t he dryer the season, the better the quality of the cotton. Fish is obviously extracted from the sea, but fishing

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283 requires nets and c anoes. Canoes and nets are both products from the dry land, but are used on the water. The fish are living in salty seawater and cannot survive in the dry environment, from which the tools that catch them are made. Salt and cotton are antagonistic to wet as they are abundant in dry and hot environments To the contrary, fish is antagonistic to dry and die when taken out of the water Local people must have been aware of these relations Local economic practices constan tly negotiate the boundary between wet and dry possibly producing an objectified structure which guides other practices. An example is the construction of the central plaza. The soil in this part of the site is non local and was extracte d from the salina (Roth 2002) People moved into the water, extracted the sand, transported it to the site and deposited it there. Sand, a dry matter, is extracted from the water and placed onto the land. The movement of people and sand changes from wet to dry context s San d could have been extracted from anywhere, but people intentionally chose the salina as the source. Although tenuous, this division of concepts might have emanated from the constant interaction between practices and these two conditions. 7.14 Conclusion Pe ople are constantly confronted with a whole gamut of possibilities during day to day life. Yet, people prioritize certain practices over others and focus attention to specific resources while others are left aside. At MC 6, a multitude of practices is reco gnized in the archaeological record, but the exploitation of salt, fish and possibly cotton received most attention. These three resources have very particular yearly cycles that structure how people engage with these resources and determine when certain p ractices occur. This interaction between people and local resources produces multiple taskscapes surrounding these products.

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284 This discussion also shows how local practices are all interrelated and comprise one comprehensive taskscape. Rather than identifyi ng singular economic activities, the taskscape provides the methodological tool to understand how dissimilar practices form a whole of integrated activities. As people plan and anticipate the future, they act upon it. At MC 6, people combined multiple prac tices that together were both time and resource compatible. The times of exploitation were dissimilar, so that available labor success. Practices are the foundation of soc ial life. (1993) (1996, 1999) economy of substances provides an excellent interpretive tool to move forward from identifying different practices and objects to a structure that guides decision mak ing processes in the past. Ingold (1993) emphasizes the importance of daily routines and the mundane, while Thomas (1996, 1999) argues for the crucial role objects play in this ed by material conditions of the environment and how these restrictions changed the way people lived. People adapted to these physical restrictions and created a new framework of reference that guided their perception of the lived environment.

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285 CHAPTER 8 MC 6 AND THE CIRCUM CARIBBEAN REGION Starting from the microscale, the previous chapter provided th e basis for MC significance. However, p eople living at MC 6 constantly reference d other people, times and places, while long distance exchange partners i n these other places reference d MC 6. The site does not exist in isolation, a social vacuum, disconnect ed from other people and places, but it is enmeshed in a large network of relations. It is essential to place MC 6 within this relational network, at a m acroscale, to understand why local resources at MC 6 are of such importance. Although local practices are the basis for social life, these practices are intrinsically connected to larger structures and social networks. MC 6 h as its own history and develope d over time, different people visited or lived at the site and exchange partners changed This chapter explores how values and meanings associated with MC 6 are constructed beyond the local milieu. A number of characteristics are unique to MC 6; architectu ral alignments to the stars, s tone structures a constructed central plaza and brass artifacts are all uncommon in the prehistoric Caribbean archaeological record. In comparison to the larger region, MC 6 was special. Yet, ideological connotations connecte d to the alignments, stars, plaza and stone structures were part of larger social structures that extended beyond the boundaries of the site. I deological references emerge from people dwelling the landscape (De Certeau 1984; Ingold 1995, 2000; Morphy 1995 ) People at MC 6 created their environment through interaction by engaging locally with the material world. C ertain meanings were not imposed but rather performed practices produ ced these meanings. This entails that h istorical

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286 sequences of local practices constantly re produced a framework of reference and over time certain associations were institutionalized and materialized at the site. MC archaeological record is a product o a materia efforts to make this place into something special. Hence, practices involved in the exploitation of the three resources discussed in C hapter 7 salt, fish and cotton, produce d MC regional importance. It is, therefore, imperative to discuss how these local resources fit into a larger Caribbean economy. As mentioned before, the Caribbean region is diverse and environments differ throughout the region. Not all places are as suited for salt pro duction as Middle Caicos, while agricultural potential is higher in other regions. MC 6 is exceptional because the unique resources at the site demanded very specialized practices in comparison with practices elsewhere in the region. A variety of highly lo cal ized resources will require locating specific practices and ultimately result in different taskscapes and temporalities. One reflection is needed before attention is directed to the macroscale. In this chapter, historical sources are used in the argume nt, in particular sourc es that describe situations immediately after 1492. Although historical documents must always be used with caution and cannot be simply projected into the past (Maclachlan and Keegan 1990) multiple reasons warrant their use here. F irst, radiocarbon dates from the site overlap with historical dates Second early historical documents describe local econ omies that were little affected by European contact. L arge scale resource production d uri ng early historical times is most likely the result of locally institutionalized economies rather than the product of limited interaction with Europeans These documents do not describe the effective European rule in the region, but illustrate a

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287 sophisticated pre colonial economy of products produce d at a large scale meant for export. 8.1 Salt Overall, the circum Caribbean region is ideal for solar evaporation and the large scale production of salt. A constant breeze, hot weather, high solar energy, high temperature of sea water are all factors that create perfect conditions for salt production. However, not all locations produce salt. For example, many volcanic islands have very steep cliffs that descend into the sea and provide little space for the flat bays or lagoons where salt ponds occur. Furth ermore, certain environmental features, such as mountains, attract rain and have micro climates that are detrimental to salt production. Finally, dry and wet seasons are not synchronized across the region and certain places are more often hit by hurricanes and tropical depressions than others. 1 This section will explore the locations of salt production in the region, working from recent times back into the past. Large commercial evaporation ponds are located along the n orth coast of Venezuela and Colo mbia, Mexico and the Bahamas (Great Inagua). The salt production of these facilities is impressive; saltworks in Yucatn produce approximately 500,000 tons a year (ISYSA 2012) tons a year (Sealey 2006) Large evaporation ponds are filled by pumps and mountains of salt are collected by heavy machinery. Scale is the key to these modern industries. Although the expanse of these enterprises cannot be projected into the past, they 1 See Appendix E and F. Appendix E shows differences in sea surface temperature in the circum Caribbean region. Ap pendix F shows differences in precipitation and temperature.

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288 indicate that certain places in the landscape, such as Yucatn and Great Inagua, have ideal conditions for the production of this resource. Smaller scale production also takes place, mostly for local consumption. One of the larger facilities is located on the southwestern tip of Puer to Rico, Cabo Rojo. Other locations, like for example near Fort Libert and between Fort Libert and Cap Haitien 2 Haiti, produce salt as well on a very small scale. On the shores of Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, salt has been a major economic resource for some ti me now (Murphy 1953) 3 These small scale production location s show that salt is still produced throughout the region. The low price of salt these days makes it impossible to generate enough money on only small scale production. However, i n the recent past and historical times, multiple other locations throughout the region produced salt. S alt was industry until the 1980s but disappeared when tourism increased and salt prices dropped Salt ponds and lagoons dominate the island, especially in the south east part. Similarly, St. Maarten, St. Eustatius, Curaao and Aruba were used by the Dutch for salt. The lack of appropriate climatic conditions and sources of salt in the Netherlands led the Dutch to explore this economy in the Caribbean (Kurlan sky 2003) Also, G rand Turk and Salt Cay were important places for salt production in historical times. As mentioned in Chapter 2, Turks salt was praised for its high quality and often specifically requested for curing meats. How important an d valuable thi s resource was between the 17 th and 19 th century is attested to by voyage s of ov er 1,300 km that Bermudians undertook from their home island to Grand Turk to exploit this resource every year S alt 2 Salt is exploited on the coast at the site of La Navidad, Haiti. This location was also the seat of an important chief in the region. This site, excavated by Deagan (2004), is also known as En Bas Saline. 3 These locations are easy recognizable from satellite imagery.

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289 production was only moved from these islands to Great Inagu a, because the sea surrounding th e islands is too shallow for large vessels that shipped the harvested salt. Conditions on Great Inagua are less favorable than on Grand Turk but the former can accommodate ships at a deep water port. Annual production is s till over 1 million tons. It is often assumed that these historical examples are a p roduct of European intervention. Local native peoples in the region were not interested in this resource, but after European contact the colonists realized the potential of the Caribbean climate and established this profitable industry. However, the potential power of salt was recognized at MC 6 in pre colonial times. then it is safe to assume that people living at other locations conducive for salt production might have focused on this resource too T hese historic industries are very likely continuations of prehistoric economies. Rather than emphasizing the importance and knowledge of Europeans to exploit the Caribbean r egion best, the role of the nati ve population should be acknowledged Two examples support this claim that most historical industries are continuations of prehistori c practices; Anguilla and south western Puerto Rico. Anguilla is situated in the northern Lesser Antilles and had a large salt industry until recently. The archaeological record shows a very different pattern on Anguilla than on other islands in its vicinity. First, habitation densities are very high on the island, especially in later periods. Second, 80% of the pottery has volcanic temper, which is non local to this limestone island and these products had to be imported Third, large sites, such as Rendezvous Bay and Sandy Ground, appear to be exclusive production sites of the highly valued cal cirudite zemis, or idols. Yet the source of the calcirudite is located on

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290 St. Maarten just across the water but within sight of the beach on Anguilla (Crock 2000; Crock and Petersen 2004; Knippenberg 2006; Petersen and Crock 2001) Anguilla is barren, has little fertile soil and fresh water is scarce. The one source for fresh water, Fountain Cavern, can be reached through a hole in the ground and a deep descent into the cave P etroglyphs are evidence that people used this source in the past (Crock 2000; Cr ock and Petersen 2004) Only marine resources are abundant with the Anguilla Bank located just to the south. Although these conditions are not advantageous for large scale agricultural production for export, most artifacts found on Anguilla were imported from adjacent islands. The question arises as to how people could afford to import goods without the potential to export and exchange Although the calcirudite zemis were indeed exported, the question of why these had to be made on Anguilla and not near th e source on St. Maarten remains unclear How did this island become importan t, while local resource s seem to be absent? Crock (2000) and Crock and Petersen (2004) argue that Anguil la was a port of trade, a hub between the Lesser and Greater Antilles. The strategic exploitation of this physical location by chiefs was establi shed as an intermediate place between these two interaction spheres. Marine resources on the Anguilla Bank were definitely exploited, but the main reason why these non local products are all spatially concentrated on the island is the re sult of local entrepreneurs who successfully negotiated their physical p osition between two regions and institutionalized their social status as vital intermediates within a large exchange network. Ideolog ical references to these local chiefs and Fountain Cavern attracted non local goods to the island.

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291 Early settlements and larger settlements in later times, however, are all located near saltponds (Crock 2000; Crock and Petersen 2004) The Rendezvous Bay si te, for example, is located on a sand bar that separates a saltpond from the sea. The configuration of the sandbar has probably been reasonably stable, as radiocarbon dates shows occupation from around 500 C.E. onward (Crock and Petersen 2004) The large c oncentration o f later sites, particularly in the southeast, coincides with an abundance of saltponds in that region. Based on settlement location, salt production must have been the main activity on Anguilla. Th e strong connection between this resource and the exact location of multiple sites is undeniable. The second example is even more convincing. The paramount chief on Puerto Rico Agueybana, lived near San Germn. 4 Between 1516 and 1520, Agueybana traded 729 fanegas or 84,000 kg of salt with the Spani sh (Tanodi 2009:83) In other locations along the coast of this part of Puerto Rico, other chiefs also controlled saltworks, producing this resource and trad ing it with the Spanish. Salt clearly was a major industry. These early dates, within 20 years of f irst contact, suggest t hat the extent of this economy wa s not an exclusive result of European influence. During these first years, contact must have been superfluous and the Europeans did not make a strong impact o n local economies. Also, it is doubtful th at a production of more than 20,000 kg for export per year by one chief i.e. enough to satisfy a European demand without a long history of expertise and knowledge of salt production Salt was obviously important in the prehistoric Caribbean region. MC 6 and Anguilla both possess archaeological examples of high quality materials found in close association with salt ponds, wh ereas the example from Puerto Rico indicates how 4 This example is also referenced in Chapters 2 and 4.

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292 extensive this economy really was. This strongly suggests that other location s where conditions are favorable were exploited as well. A number of suggestions have been made where salt production might have been an important economy, including Anegada (Davis and Oldfield 2003) Martinique (Allaire 1991) Barbados (Drewett 2004) and the east ern part of Puerto Rico (Carlson et al. 2009) This economic emphasis on salt also directs attention to sites that were located behind salinas in the past, such as Anse la Gourde on Guadeloupe (Hofman et al. 2001) or Giraudy on St. Lucia (Hofman et al. 2 004) as these settlements might have been involved in the exploitation of this resource too. The example from eastern Puerto Rico deserves more attention. The archaeological sites are not located next to a saltpond, but a mangrove bay where salinity level s were much higher than the surrounding sea. Instead of the normal 35 ppm, measurements from these bays yielded 80 ppm. Excavations yielded only ceramic vessels of very low quality. The most common vessel form is the open plates. This suggests that people collected the water from the bay and left the water to evaporate and produce salt. The lack of other artifacts in these archaeological contexts suggests that these artifacts were used for specific purposes. Finally, this example shows that salt production sites do not always require a salt pond and other techniques were also used in the Caribbean region (Carlson et al. 2009) As discussed in Chapter 4, these source areas do not produce the same salt. Some salt will have fewer impurities than others. Higher moisture levels and differences in grain size and color are also expected. Conditions in certain locations are more favorable than others. Middle Caicos stands out in this respect, as it is one of the few

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293 locations that has a second dry season in July and August (Sears and Sullivan 1978) Even Anguilla has wetter summer months than other times of the year and salt production in Yucatan, Mexico, is also restricted to the end of the dry season in April and May (Andrews 1983; Ewald 1985) But in the Turks & Ca icos Islands, dry weather returns after the rains in May and June, creating ideal conditions for a second period of salt production. At the time that solar energy is highest, most salt works in the circum Caribbean area are subject to the detrimental effec ts of precipitation. Yet, Armstrong Pond has its yearly high in salt production. The timing could have been crucial, as MC 6 could provide salt to other regions when other sites stopped producing. Another benefit is that Armstrong Pond has higher productio n yields, as salt is produced during a longer period of time and provided an advantage over many other salt producing sites in the region. Regarding the inalienability of certain salts, the production process described in Chapter 7 could be of importance. As mentioned, salt may have been placed in baskets to dry. These baskets, then, leave an impression of the weaving on the dried salt. This impression became a symbol of the wealth of the salt and its producer. The different designs, as recognized on gridd les (Berman and Hutcheson 2000; Hutcheson 1999, in press) might represent different families or other social groups that controlled salt resources. The design is an index of its original location of production, the control over salt, the social identity o f its owners and finally the power of this resource. In other words, the material impression on salt functioned as an index of its maker, its place and social wealth. These specific types of weaving became brands and symbolize the different groups, communi cating their identity along with the exchange of salt.

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294 Subsequently, these designs are placed on other malleable products, such as pottery, to reaffirm the status of these symbols in association with certain social groups. The design changes the material w orld and creates an inalienable link between the salt, its maker and the place where it was produced. The evidence above indicates that salt was an important resource in the Caribbean and that people were exploiting this resource throughout the region pri or to the arrival of Europeans. Obviously, salt would only become important if there was a demand for this resource. The demand for salt was created through two processes. First, dietary requirements must be fulfilled, and in a Caribbean climate perspirati on causes high amounts of salt to leave the body. Salt must be digested daily to keep up with this loss. However, dietary requirements can easily be met by adding sea water to the food. Even if sa lt is unavailable as a solid, sea water can always be obtain ed fairly easily on m ost Caribbean islands S ettlement s are often locat ed near the sea and the dietary requirement cannot function as the locations. But e ven in the Caribbean, there are places that do not have acc ess to salt. On the larger islands, inland settlements are located far from the sea and access to either salt or sea water must have been very difficult. At certain places on Hispaniola, the sea is over 100 km away. In addition to the distance, accentuated terrain hinders easy transport. Furthermore, the transport of sea water is unnecessarily heavy and difficult. The demand for salt in these settlements far from the sea must have been high and required the import of this valuable resource. The second deman d emanates from s positions of power through exchange and feasting This social quality of salt attracted

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295 people to this resource and generated a local demand. The consequences of gaining power and status through exch ange and gift giving of salted produce attracted people to this resource and increased their willingness to devote time and labor to its exploitation. People who could meet their dietary demand with salted sea water were possibly still part of large social networks of exchange, because their local access to salt for dietary needs did not restrict gift exchange of salted produce. Yet, with the extra impetus of a dietary need o bviously, salt exchange will be more successful. Coastal people could function as middle men, exchanging the salt from MC 6 with people in the interior. Although they did not need these items, they could trade with inland with people who did require the resource. Outside of the immediate Caribbean region, salt would have been in even hi gher demands. Although many locations along the coast of the Caribbean Sea are conducive for salt productio n, the enormous hinterland often lacks good salt resources, creating a possible market for this product. Brine wells are absent in the Amazon basin a nd scarce i n Mesoamerica though large populations lived in these regions. E xport of Caribbean salts to these regions is difficult, if not impossible, to determine, but the vast market for salt cannot be denied. The surplus of salt in the Caribbean region could have been exported to these mainland regions and traded for goods lacking on the islands. An example is worth considering in this context. The Muisca of the Colombian highlands were known for their salt production through the boiling of brines from l ocal wells, but also imported gold and cotton. The products were subsequently used to make export products again. The cotton was made into woven blankets and locally available copper was added to the gold, producing t umbaga or guann (Kurella 1998; Pea 20 08)

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296 Other objects, such as Queen conch, tobacco, hayo (coca), yopo or cohoba tobacco and exotic feathers were imported, evidence of a large and elaborate network of exchange (Pea 2008) Despite the local availability of boiled and mined salt, sea salt was still imported and mainly used by elites (Oyuela Caycedo personal communication 2009). Hence, products from the Caribbean, namely cotton, cohoba and sea salt, were in local demand, whereas Caribbean demands for guann green stone and feather could be supplied from this region. The Muisca might have been trading for products from the Caribbean islands. One significant difference, however, exists between the mainland regions surrounding th e Caribbean Sea and the Antilles in relation to dietary requireme nts and salt On the mainland, part of this need can be compensated for by the consumption of animal meat. Meat contains salt and adding meats to the diet partially meets this requirement. Large land mammals a re present on the mainland but absent on the A ntilles Monkey, deer, capybara, coati, tapir and jaguar are large game that were caught and partially supplemented salt deficiencies in mainland regions. Although t hese animals were never a substantive part of the diet people in the Caribbean required mo re salt than their mainland counterparts Places like Hispaniola for example, therefore, needed this resource. 8 .2 Fish The lack of large land animals creates another resource demand, nam ely protein. Protein is a dietary requirement that needs to be satisf ied. Fish and other marine resources, su ch as conch and turtle, are common Caribbean source s of protein. The archaeological record unequivocally illustrates that fish form ed a significant part of the diet in many sites in the region (deFrance in press; LeF ebvre et al. 2006; Newsom and

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297 Wing 2004; Wing and Wing 2001) Initially, fish appear to be plent iful and a lack of proteins seems almost unimaginable. Prehistoric peoples in the Caribbean archipelago could easily meet local protein requirements through fi shing practices. This is, however, a complete misconception of fisheries in the Caribbean for multiple reasons. First, most fish have seasons and many species migrate or spawn at specific times Fish is, therefore, not abundant year round. Second, banks, coral reefs and open waters harbor vastly different species and determine which an imals are present and which are not. Species are unevenly distributed across waters. Finally, fishing practices differ. Pelagic fishing on open water is more dangerous than f ishing in a shallow enclosed bay, protected from waves and wind. Catching certain species involve s more effort and risk than others. In sum, fish are heterogeneously distributed, depending on the time of the year and the local conditions of the sea. In res pect to fishing practices, b anks are ideal. The shallow waters are calm and full of fish and other marine species, including conch. Hence, the risk is low and the rate of success is high. Some of the large r banks in the Caribbean are Little and Great Baham a Bank, Silver Bank, Caicos Bank, Sal Cay Bank, Anguilla Bank and Saba Bank. Other regions have shallow waters too, like southwest Cuba, the bank between Barbuda and Antigua, southwest Puerto Rico and the sea surrounding the Virgin Islands. Most of these b anks and shallow seas are easily accessible from an island, but for example Silver Bank is more than 60 km north of the northeastern tip of Hispaniola. So, the supply of proteins in the region is not just a given and people invested significant amounts of labor and time to overcome their need (Keegan et al. 2008) For example, the zo oarchaeological re cord from le Rat (La Amiga) situated in the Baie de

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298 shows signs o f overexploitation of loc al resources. The average size of fishes in the sample is 1 2 kg, while a contemporaneous site on Grand Turk yielded bones of fishes between 5 and 20 kg. People living on Hispaniola were extracting too many resources, depleting the seas of larger fish. Fis hing costs increased over time for similar return rates, making it mor e time consuming and labor intensive (Keegan et al. 2008) This suggests that demands for fish were high and people were forced to exploit less efficient sources, ultimately even engagin g in long distance voyages to Grand Turk (Carlson 1993, 1999) Access to fish, therefore, is challenging According to Columbus (Dunn and Kelley 1989; Keegan 2007) the interior of Hispaniola was the main location of large chiefdoms and population cente rs. There especially, away from the sea and with many mouths to feed, access to fish was restricted In order to satisfy protein requirements in the se interior regions, fish was transported from the coast to the hinterland. A significant amount of labor an d time investment was needed to ensure a constant and stable imp ort of proteins to these large population. Furthermore, transport of fish from the coa st to the interior is hindered by processes of decay. This means that fish needed to be trans ported as soo n as it was caught, reducing the efficiency and rais ing the costs. Without the ability to cure fish b efore transport, possibilities we re severely limited. The export of conch is a relatively easy. The conch industry was massive on the Turks & Caicos Island s and millions of pounds were exported to Haiti up to the late 1970s (Hesse and Hesse 1977) Conch preserves for six months after a relatively easy procedure. The extracted muscle is beaten to break the muscle fibers and left to dry on

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2 99 a rack. Three days i n the sun is sufficient to completely dry the conch and preserve it. Furthermore, the taste of dried conch is stronger than fresh conch. Conch has the advantage that salt is not needed to preserve this source of protein. The exchange of conch, however, als o has a disadvantage. As discussed in is an even better solution for the problems in the interior of Puerto Rico, Jamaica and especially Cuba and Hispaniola. The se inland locations lacked salt and fish, so the de mand for both was high Furthermore, adding salt to the fish increases the efficiency of fishing practices (more fish can be caught without the possibility of losing the goods to decay) and transportation (fish can be accumulated and all transported at onc e in bulk, rather than in constant small transports). The combination of fis h and salt suits these situations Also, the fact that both resources are dietary requirements increases the ability of donors (traders) of salted fish to establish debts with peop le in the interior. Having access to both salt and fish becomes a huge source of power. The supply is completely in the hands of a few, while large populations demand it daily. Unequal distribution of these two resources produces strong imbalance s of power The negotiation position of people in the interior is relatively weak, because they absolutely need these resources, wh ereas the people controlling the salt and salted fish can relatively easily exploit these resources beyond their own nutritional needs The benefits are vast for owners, wh ereas the people in the interior are in a completely dependent situation. Archaeological evidence from Saba underline this connection between large chiefdoms and the need for protein. The island lacks sources of salt, b ut has direct

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300 the late ceramic age, significant amounts of Chicoid pottery were found, relating this village to the Greater Antilles where this style is prominent. Furthe rmore, excavation yielded a number of large hearths, 2x3 m (Hoogland and Hofman 1991; Hoogland 1996; Hoogland and Hofman 1993) Corinne Hofman (personal communication 2011) interprets these large hearths as smoking pits for fish caught on the Saba Bank. Ke functioned as a production site of smoked fish for protein requirements on other islands. The invested labor and resource requirements of smoking over salting, as described in Chapter 3, are negotiated by the increased demand for fish in the region. In this context, it might not come as a surprise that places that grant access to both salt and fish become important locations. Of course, MC 6 is one of them, but other locations d iscussed above show a similar pattern. Sites on Anguilla have dir ect access to the Anguilla Bank and a shallow bank is also located on the southwestern tip of Puerto Rico near Cabo Rojo. Anegada is amidst the bank of all the Virgin Islands and Anse la Go urde on Guadeloupe is located on the eastern part of the island that has rich fishing grounds as well. When salt is naturally available in close proximity to productive marine banks, native populations seem to have fully exploited these places. The demand in the Caribbean region was not just salt, but mostly salted fish. 8 .3 Cotton Cotton suffer s from similar archaeological problems as salt, because the material is perishable and does not last in the material record Evidence for cotton is difficult to obt ain and little information is known about its uses in the past. Despite its archaeological invisibility, c otton was of major importance in the prehistoric Caribbean (Morsink in press a) Columbus remarks on the vast quantities of cotton he encounters

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301 on H ispaniola (Dunn and Kelley 1989) Columbus observe d 6,000 kg of this product in one house alone and he estimate d production yields of 184,000 kg per field. Tributes to the Spanish were paid in cotton products and raw unprocessed balls of cotton were offere d as gifts Hence, native people perceived cotton to be an appropriate gift or tribute, attesting that this product was much more than just a commodity in the region. Furthermore, Anacoana, a powerful female on Hispaniola, oversaw cotton production and pro duced cotton products herself (Tyler 1988) Anacoana was the sister of Columbus ar th e significance of cotton as this resource was under her direct control and command while less important resources were not power was partially displayed by her authority and jurisdiction over cotton. In historic times, cotton production maintained its position as a major economy in the Caribbean. Throughout the region, cotton plantations were erected and the ideal combination of hot and dry conditions w as fully exploited. Caribbean cotton is known for i t s high quality, as this ideal climate produces a strong, white and soft cotton bal l ( Kozy 1983; Yafa 2005) Sea Island Cotton e specially was renowned for its softness and quality and was sometimes even mixed with silk (Yafa 2005) Although cotton was produced in many locations, including the northern coast of Hispaniola as described by C olumbus (Dunn and Kelley 1989) certain islands became known for their cotton production. Barbados (Menard 2006) Anguilla (Mitchell 2009) and the Bahamas and Turks & Caicos Islands (Kozy 1983; Yafa 2005) were the primary locations for the

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302 production of th is resource. These islands are all very dry and have perfect climate conditions for high quality cotton production. Despite the lack of substantive evidence for cotton production in the archaeological record, the ethnohistorical accounts repeatedly refer to cotton as an important resource in this region The extent of cotton plantations in historical times underlines that the region is extremely suited for the production of cotton. These historical industries might have used local knowledge about locations and cotton varieties to increase their yields. As the native population exploited the resource on a large scale, their expertise of where and when to grow this crop must have been vast. At the very minimum, colonists observed the r emnants of prehistoric f ields of wild cotton and realized that these locations were ideal for plantations. 8 .4 Taskscapes A cross the R egion The combined economic exploitation of salt, fish and cotton might not have been exclusive to Middle Caicos. This triangle of resources forms such a mutually beneficia l economy that other locations with similar conditions might be expected to engage in these practices and yearly cycles too For example, t he pattern on Barbados and Anguilla resembles Middle Caicos in many ways. On a barren, dry and rocky island, away from the Tano heartland in the Greater Antilles, historical documents indicate that salt and cotton production were the two main industries. Furthermore, fishing grounds are easy to reach on both islands. Barbados lacks direct acces s to a large bank, but fly fishing is incredibly popular on the island and the archaeological record suggests that this was one of the major activities in the past as well (Drewett 1991, 2004) The taskscapes of people living on these islands might have be en very similar to the one described on Middle Caicos

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303 The analogy between Middle Caicos and Anguilla goes even further. The archaeological record on these two islands yields vast amounts of non local pottery and extraordinary material culture, such as the production of religious idols. Both locations show a strong connection between the local environment that is conducive for salt, fish and cotton exploitation and a material record with high status artifacts. This relationship indicates that people on both Anguilla and Middle Caicos were utilizing and exploiting local resources and, through exchange, gaining social status and power. In the case of Anguilla, this e conomic triangle might have provided the power that was needed to gain exclusive access to St. successful exchange of important local resources on Anguilla, the people spread their control throughout the region. This explains how people on Anguilla could exert power beyond the physical boun daries of the island, as their power emanated from the control over resources specific to the island. However, the limited distribution of salt, fish and cotton is one of the main catalysts in generating importance to these resources. From a macrosale pers pective, the significance of MC 6 can be explained by the local availability of these valuable economic products. T his therefore, must entail that other regions had different qualities that were beneficial for the production of other resources. These othe r resources were important too in a prehistoric economy and have to be integrated in a macroscalar perspective. The role of MC 6 is as much determined by what MC 6 has to offer as by what it is lacking. These other resources were defined by different pract ices, calendars, distribution patterns and demand rates. Hence, o ther people, outside of Middle Caicos and Anguilla, were involved in different taskscapes and yearly routines.

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304 For example, other crops flourish in wetter and richer soils, such as those pres ent on volcanic islands. Ethnohistoric sources emphasize the importance of manioc, but starch residue and isotope analysis consistently indicate that corn was a major part of the prehistoric Caribbean diet (Mickleburgh and Pagn 2011; Pagn 2008, 2011; Sto kes 2005) Corn grows particularly well o n volcanic nutrient rich soils and wetter climates Although seasonal information on planting and harvesting is hardly discussed for the prehistoric Caribbean, more information is available from the Maya area. Corn, the main crop, is planted at the end of the dry season, in this region April and May. Months before planting, the fields are cleared and left to dry. Then, the vegetation is burned and the soil is tilled. Corn grows during the wet season, in June, July an d August. Harvesting takes place at the end of August and September (von Hagen 1957) In addition, a second growing season from December to March/April is possible in Belize (Toledo Maya Cultural Council and Toledo Alcaldes Association 1997) Tobacco, anot her important crop, also prospers in wetter climates Furthermore, preparations for tobacco planting start at the end of winter and early spring, when the gardens are prepared and the seeds are planted. Before the onset of winter, the leaves are collected and dried (Whitty 2000) Manioc is dormant during the dry season, but grows when the rains start. The agricultural cycle resembles in many ways the cycle of corn. The rains are vital for germination and growth W hen the seeds are placed in the ground too e arly the whole crop can be ruined. Both manioc and corn can be preserved, when processed into pulp and baked on griddles The taskscape of these crops incorporate these other processing activ ities and involve a long cycle o f complex routines.

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305 On Hispaniola, people engaged in intensive agriculture. Small raised mounds were built for optimal drainage and water retention on large fields ( conucos ). The building and maintaining of these fields wa s labor intensive, but also increased yields from these fields. If planted at the end of the dry season, these mounds must have been constructed during the dry season. It is apparent that these agricultural cycles, for example on Hispaniola, require a lot of management and planning as well, in very similar ways as the people at MC 6 planned their seasons. The preparation of gardens, burning of vegetation, tillage of soil, planting of seeds, maintaining the gardens and harvesting the crops all occurred at ve ry specific time s in the year. For optimal yields, management and planning were crucial. The similarity between these agricultural cycles on Hispaniola 5 and the one observed on Middle Caicos might suggest that these people had comparable routines. The ga rdens were pr epared at the same time, as the planting of the seeds and the harvest. The distinction between the wet and dry season was a major factor in the planning of these practices and it was necessary to predict the coming of the rains in these econom ies too Different soil types and longer rainy seasons altered the economic focus from salt, fish and cotton to other products, but local practices were still synchronized in relation to the wet and dry season. Certain preparations had to be concluded befo re the rains, while other activi ties took place after the rains disappear again. T he repetition of these practices, cycles and yearly routines produce a temporality in similar ways as on Middle Caicos. However, the taskscape involved different 5 Hispaniola consisted of multiple economies that existed alongside each other. However, for this argument, the internal dyn amics are simplified for the entire island.

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306 relational p roperties and products. Salt, fish and cotton are not comparable to manioc, corn tobacco and other agricultural products. Practices involved in the large scale exploitation of agricultural produce were different in both regions. Although the yearly cycles likely followed a similar calendar, the two regions produced different taskscapes and networks of relations. As much as these cycles can be compared, they also are distinct from each other. Groups on Hispaniola engaged in strict agricultural economies mig ht also have a different distribution of labor. In relation to horticulture, intensive agriculture requires a lot of physical labor in gardening practices. This could have led to a reorientation of male labor to agricultural production instead of fishing/h unting practices (Aberle 1961; Divale and Harris 1976) The intensification of agricultural production of Hispaniola might have led to a complete change in gender practices. This change might have increased social distance between males on Hispaniola and t he Bahamian islands, as these male associated activities in both regions were so vastly different. Th e distinction between these two taskscapes has very important repercussions. Because people are on similar yearly schedule s these two different taskscape s require labor at the same moment These two taskscapes are, therefore, completely incompatible. One of the reasons why salt, fish and cotton are often fo und in association is because these products r equire labor at different times of the year, which is t he reason that people can combine these three into one annual routine A combination of cotton, corn and manioc, however, is far from ideal. Because these products have similar cycles, land and labor both had to be divided. If corn require d labor during th e wet season and cotton during the dry season, one could exploit these two resources by

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307 alternating seasonally But they do not and attention had to be divided and production yields would have been less optimal. Labor requirements also r estrict the mobilit y of people ( Chapter 4). It is physically impossible for one group to grow cotton on Middle Caicos and corn on Hispaniola. As both lo cal agricultural cycles are time specific, these two economies cannot be shared and controlled by the same people. Hence, t he overlap of periodic labor requirements enforces a differentiation in economies and specializations. Certain groups decide to plant and grow corn, in combination with other products that fit that taskscape, while other crops that are in compatible are not grown Although these decisions are, of course, based on cultural preferences and ideas, the materiality of the growing cycles partially determine what decisions can be made. In sum, natural growing cycles of certain plants restrict the possibilities of agricultural practices. With respect to these two different taskscapes, people on Hispaniola and on Middle Caicos must have lived separate li ves for most of the year. Because growing cycles and labor requirements kept them near the ir own fields, interactio n between these two reg ions must have been relatively infrequent during most of the year During o ther, less intensive times, such as winter in Middle Caicos, contact was intensified and most products were exchanged. Furthermore, as daily practices form a backbone of social identities (Bourdieu 1977; Giddens 1984) these separate calendars and routine s p roduced dissimilar identities. The physical distance combined with the different agricultural and production practices created a social distance, indirectly producing different social identities

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308 The colonization of the Bahamian archipelago, as described in Chapter 6, might explain this process better. The early movement of people from Cuba to San Salvador and other islands in the central Bahamas (Berman and Gnivecki 1991, 1995) w as initiated to exploit the salt ponds on these islands (Berman personal communication, 2012). T he mobility of these people was restricted at the end of the dry season and in the middle of summer by the availability of salt. Yet, c ont acts with their place of origin were closely kept during other times of the year. Initial waves of colonization are hazardous endeavors and close kinship relations function as insurance in case something goes wrong (Keegan 2000; Kirch 2002; also Morsink 20 11) However, besides the physical distance, prolonged s tay s of these people away from their homes on Cuba also produced a social distance. Daily lives were not shared anymore and practices diverged. Other difficulties might have also arisen, such as the availability of certain artifacts such as pottery The import of pottery is costly, as pots are heavy and are prone to break during transport or use. People on the islands might have decided, during their stay, to explore local resources and produce potter y on the islands r pottery, the production of local pottery might just have been a response to long er stays on these islands. The similarity in production techniques on Cuba and Sa n Salvador (Berman and Gnivecki 1995) indicates that t was not more than an unintentional consequence of producing pottery from local resources. Yet, as time progressed and lives between these regions diverged, the local pottery became an undeniable index (c.f. Gell 1998) of local identity. Although the

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309 quality of this Palmetto pottery is incredibly poor, the social connotation with local personalities and status became an important marker. The divergence in life st yles resulted in unintentional consequences (c.f. Joyce 2004) of separated material cultures, that over time became embedded in local ideas of identity and social cohesion. At first, Palmetto pottery referenced Cuban pottery, but a historical sequence of p rolo nged habitation and separation let a new context unfold in which this island based pottery style emerged as a marker of a distinct social group. In subsequent episodes of colonization and habitation, this pottery style was adapted to signify alliances and communicate a social connection. The difference in social identities, therefore, is founded upon local practices rather than grounded in the fabrication of different material cultures or the use of distinct symbols. The decision to exploit salt on the Bahamian islands resulted in a physical separation between two formerly connected groups. This decision unintentionally led to a separate material culture and identity, but the basis of this change emerged from distinct local taskscapes that are incompati ble with each other. A life on the islands creates a different relational network between practices and economic product s than on the mainland, creating a new framework of reference between people places and times Ultimately, different social identities emanate from dissimilar daily activities and yearly routine s The creation of social differences through incompatible taskscapes also provides a new way of understanding historical sequences in t he colonization of the Turks & Caicos Islands. Early sites ar e short term camp sites focused on the exploitation of shells and the production of beads, while later sites are long term habitation settlements

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310 that exploi t salt, fish, conch and cotton. Short term sites exclusively yield Ostionan or Meillacan pottery, w hile long term habitation sites are dominated by Palmetto Ware. Short term visits focused on the exploitation of shells and the production of bead s, both practices that were compatible with the taskscapes of the visitors C ontinuous habitation was not an o ption because of obligations on Hispaniola When, for example, Armstrong Pond started to produce salt, people from Hispaniola had difficulties adapting their taskscapes to the requirements on the island if they wanted to exploit this resource. Furthermore they lacked the knowledge that other resources could be produced in combination with salt to make a sustainable living on the poor soils of limestone islands. H owever, people living in the islands north of Middle Caicos were already enmeshed in a Bahamia n island taskscape and could easily move into the region and establish long term settlements. The introduction of Palmetto Ware into the region, as observed in the archaeological record, is the result of groups that have a yearly lifestyle, a taskscape, wh ich is more compatible with labor requirements for the exploitation of local resources in relation to people living on Hispaniola. This transition from people visiting the islands from Hispaniola and people inhabiting the island year round was likely a muc h more tranquil transition than war as suggested by Keegan (1997) People from Hispaniola could enjoy the products of these islands through trade with the locals while maintaining the original cycle of yearly routines A temporal overlap between some Mei llacan and Palmetto sites can also easily be explained, because people from Hispaniola were not interfering with resources that were desired by the locals living on the islands and, therefore, could coexist next to each other.

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311 A symbiosis of two incompati ble, but mutually complementary taskscapes existed side by side in this region of the Caribbean archipelago. Where people on the Caicos Islands fully exploited local environmental conditions and economically focused on salt, fish and cotton, people on Hisp aniola focused on different products. Through exchange, these items were shared and access was granted. These different economic practices created dissimilar taskscapes and ultimately social identity, yet at the same time these people were fully aware that they were mutually benefitting from their regional specialties. Distinct as these two taskscapes were, people remained close to each other through exchange. 8 .5 The Middle Caicos Hispaniola Connection People on Middle Caicos mainly interacted with people on Hispaniola, rather than Cuba, for a number of reasons. First, the earliest occupants ca me from Hispaniola. Petrographic analysis of the pottery assemblage from the Coralie site points to Hispaniolan origins, in particular the Fort Libert region (Cordel l 1998) Second based on spatial relations, the Turks & Caicos Islands are located in closer proximity to Hispaniola than Cuba. Third Altes reconstructed sea faring voyages between Middle Caicos and Hispaniola using SARMAP (see Chapter 6). The Fort Libert area is the only location from which random drifts have a significant chance of ending in the Turks & Caicos Islands. Although these random drifts do not take intentional voyaging into consideration, th ese data show that voyage s between this part of Hisp aniola and Middle Caicos are the easiest to navigate. Fourth historical toponyms of the Turks & Caicos I slands suggest that people approach the islands from the south, rather than from the (north)west in late historic times as explained in Chapter 6 (Gra nberry 1991; Granberry and Vescelius 2004) E xcept for the Turks & Caicos Islands names of islands in the

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312 Bahamian archipelago point to Cuba as their main spatial reference. Fifth Caonab, the most important chief in the Caribbean region at the time of a rrival of Columbus, is identified as a person from the Bahamian archipelago (Keegan 2007) Caonab must have grown up in the Bahamas and moved to Hispaniola to take this position of power. This would not have happened if strong reciprocal contacts were abs ent between these regions. This specific case of Caonab is intriguing, as it is rather unexpected that a person social status and power. For such an important person to come from a Lucayan island, a solid social network based on the exchange of people and goods is an advantage To ascend to such a position, Caonab must have been able to display a long history of kinship relations and wealth to people on Hispaniola. This leads Keegan (2007) to suggest that MC home town, as this settlement shows by far the most elaborate structures and wealth in the Lucayan region. True or not, if the main activity on most of these islands w ere focused on the exploitation of salt, fish and cotton, Keegan (2007) argues that local products in the Bahamas, namely salt and fish, were in high demand on Hispaniola in late prehistoric times. Increased social complexity and larger population sizes required additional sources of fish and salt to provide for the peo ple inland. Caonab, a local who must have had kinship ties with people still close to these resources, was capable of supplying a steady rate of these vital res ources. H e used his social background to import salt and salted fish into the interior of Hispaniola, establishing a solid basis for his position of power.

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313 Locations, such as MC 6, were instrumental in the development of social complexity and increase in population on Hispaniola. Without a steady supply of salt and salted fish, population s could not grow in the interior of the island. To meet the dietary requirement for salt and proteins in the interior of Hispaniola, additional sources ha d to be introduce d. The trade in salt and salted fish from the Turks & Caicos Islands was not an outcome of an existing network, but the main impetus for social cha nge on Hispaniola and central to the institutionalization of certain positions of power, such as the one held by Caonab. The rapid development of social complexity in the Caribbean region could be related to people exploiting vast amounts of salt in the Bahamian archipelago. 8 lt? Keegan (2007) to the story of the there is a story about an immigrant de pos ing the throne and establish ing a new power by marrying the daughter of the former king. Keegan (2007) argues that Caonab is such a stranger king who grew up in Middle matrilineal society. Every male, following such a residency pattern, moves from t he place where he grows up to his maternal uncle where he is brought together with his kin related males (Ember 1974; Keegan 2007; Keegan and Maclachlan 1989) T his specific argument is not further considered but attention is directed to Caonab being a s tranger. One of the qualities of a stranger king is his ahistorical background (Keegan 2007) A person who comes from afar, from a place unfamiliar and maybe even

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314 unknown to the people he rules, has no historical baggage. Stranger kings arrive in the place that they rule as an adult and stories and memories of their childhood or adolescent years are absent Although this seems to counter the idea that kings or chiefs obtain positions of power through kinship and strong objectified notions of their divine an cestry, the lack of historical connotations to a stranger king also allows origin myths and other fictional stories to be more powerfully negotiated. The lack of actual ancestr y and other redeeming qualities that elevate social status. Being a stranger, coming from afar, also means that the place of origin was beyond the horizon. This quality was highly esteemed by Tano people. Just like people, objects from beyond the horizon were also related to m ythical qualities and origins This is one of the reasons why Spanish products were so highly esteemed by the native population of the Caribbean. In particular, shiny objects were considered turey or from the sky or heavenly. Other ex ample s of turey are feathers and gold but also shiny brass objects, mirror s and other products are included in this category (Keegan 2007; Keegan and Carlson 2008; Oliver 2000) Objects from unknown places are magical, their sources and produc tion process es are obscured and their beauty is admired and desired. Middle Caicos was beyond the horizon for the people on Hispaniola. Voyages to these islands involve multiple day trips in which a significant part of the journey involve s a vista completely devoid of land, as Hispaniola and the Caicos Islands were both too far away. It is very likely that objects from the Turks & Caicos Islands were considered turey or heavenly. Early voyages f rom Hispaniola targeted two different categories of

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315 resources on the island : 1) large fish, turtles and tortoises, and 2) shells for making beads. Although some of the animals were consumed locally, most products were likely brought back to Hispaniola (Carlson 1993, 1999; Keegan 2007) The massive size of these non local fishes in combination with their unknown place of origin must have induced some special meaning to the people who were not part of these short term voyages. Furthermore, the production of beads increases this brilliant red color of the beads might have been interpreted as heavenly or turey too One final remark about these early voyages is warranted. As discussed in Chapter 4, long distance voyages and high mobility are often associated with males, rather than females. Furthermore, the beads in these early sites are predominantly made of Chama sarda which is red in color. Red is the Tano color of masculinity (Keegan 2007) Although this is admittedly speculative, these island s might have had connotations of m asculinity and males in general. Even if this interpretation is invalid, the long historical sequence of voyaging, extracti on of large fish and the production of special beads probably gave the Turks & Caicos Islands an elevated status. The products from t hese islands were special and production sequences were unknown. Most people on Hispaniola never visit ed these islands, but the se products communicated how different and beautiful the islands were. When people move into these islands from the central Baham as and establish long term habitation sites, the special status of these islands was already established in Hispaniola. The e xport of s alt, fish and cotton would have only confirmed the special status of these islands. As mentioned in previous chapters, sa lt and cotton from Middle Caicos

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316 had an incredible high quality and Turks & Caicos salt and cotton were both praised for their white color in historical times Furthermore, the color of another export product, namely conch is also white. The shiny salt cry stals and the white color of salt, cotton and conch might have reminded people of shiny bright stars and other turey objects. The se products travelled from over the horizon to Hispaniola and had qualities similar to the sun, moon and stars in the sky. The architectural alignments to the stars at MC 6 further emphasize this strong relation between the site, sky and heaven Beyond the local calendar of practices and activities, the stars are an important part of larger regional structures and Tano worldview s. According to a myth recorded just after initial contact, Anacacuya, a mythical cacique, was drowned by his brother Guayahona. In an attempt to claim all the women for him self Guayahona pushed Anacacuya in the water after Anacacuya bent over the ridge o f a canoe to look at a conch shell in the water. Anacacuya rose from the water into the sky and became a star (Pane 1999) The name Anacacuya is translated (Keegan and Carlson 2008) The alignments to Orion further connect MC 6 to the sky, stars and other bright objects. Another product that has strong connotations to the sky and turey is gold. However, Tano preferred guann a copper silver gold alloy over pure gold. This product was highly esteeme d by the native people and they were eager to trade pure gold with the Spanish for their copper gold alloys. Guann was rel ated to symbols of fertility, the sun and other products, including plants, turtles and the divine humming bird Yertt (Oliver 2000) Although this is not a natural resource on the island, Oliver (2000)

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317 reports that this alloy tastes salty The relation between MC 6, turey and salt is constantly reaffirmed. In addition, the symbol of power related to the sky is the rainbow, which conne cted heaven and earth. In similar ways, the chief negotiated these realms for people living at MC 6 and the double rainbow, a rainbow reflected in the water, was a symbol of the chief and chiefly power. In the Turks & Caicos Islands, the rates of evaporati on are so intense that rainbows occur almost on a daily basis and on the calm waters of the Caicos Bank, the double rainbow might have been observed frequently. Keegan (2007) argues that the lay out of MC 6 and stone alignments reflect this double rainbow. A second connection between rainbows and MC 6 exists. The color of the rainbow is also associated with iridescent shells, like oysters. Pteria colymbus and Pinctada radiata as described in Chapter 7, are interpreted as possible fish lures because of thei r shiny lining. Reflected in the sunlight in shallow waters, these objects attract fish. Yet, their reflection might have also represented a rainbow in the water. Furthermore, two pieces were shaped in a semi circular way, which are either two independent artifacts or two pieces of a broken circle. These artifacts are shell inlays that were attached to wooden artifacts, such as duhos (ceremonial seats) or statues, often with resins from trees in the Pinaceae family, possible Pinus caribaea (Ostapkowicz et a l. 2011) These trees are common on Middle Caicos and surrounding islands, but scarce on Hispaniola. These shells are associated here with high status artifacts that are symbols of chiefly power and status. The products of MC 6 were heavenly. Objects cross ed t he horizon to get to Hispaniola and originated from the islands with a long history of producing extraordinary

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318 products In addition, these products are associated with the color white and the shininess of the crystals reminded people of the stars and rainbows S alt and other ut a history or clear idea of the past. Production processes and locations of origin could easily be mystified, establishing specific qualities to these products. People on Hisp aniola might have even of the highest quality Th is might have reinforced the status of these islands as p laces of extraordinary and 8 .7 MC 6 The argument here has emphasiz ed how practices at the microscale influence the macroscale. However, this is a dialectic process and larger regional structures also affect the microscale. Ideological connotations, diversifications of resources and kinship ties, for example, all are para meters that exist on larger regional scales. All of these factors were important to social life at MC 6. As mentioned, the site never existed in a social vacuum and the people who lived at MC 6 were always strongly connected to these larger regional networ ks of exchange. In these larger regional networks, exchange was not limited to the movement of ideas, goods and people, but also the movement and creation of identity and reality. Exchange establishes and generates social relationships, defining the status of people and their world. Attention, therefore, is redirected to MC 6 and how local ideas and identities were created in reference to these larger structures. As much as MC 6 was foreign and across the horizon for people on Hispaniola, the same is true in the opposite direction Products that traveled the opposite way, such as canoes, guann or gold objects and tobacco, were valuable to people on MC 6.

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319 Stories about important chiefs, large population centers, mountains and rivers must have accompanied th ese obje cts and impressed the inhabitants of the Turks & Caicos Islands who never visited Hispaniola. If MC 6 was considered special by people on Hispaniola, then Hispaniola was considered special by people at MC 6. P eople involved in these long distance v oyages were important sources of knowledge about the two islands so dis tant from each other. Only a few people move d between them and held knowledge of how these islands stood in relation to one an other People who stayed on either end would never know wh at the other island was like and totally relied on these travelers for information This also means that knowledge about the other place was kept by a relatively small group of people, wh o could use this knowledge for their own benefit. The fact that certa in people could tell stories about the splendors of either island must have at least attracted attention from curious people who were interested in unknown faraway islands and resources. The directionality of these long distance voyages was mostly from His paniola to MC 6 and back, than from MC 6 to Hispaniola and back to Middle Caicos. The ceramic assemblage shows that most pottery was Palmetto Ware, but MC features, such as the formalized stone alignments, central plaza, gardens, stone struc tures and road, are completely unknown in the Bahamian archipelago. However, stone alignments and formalized settlements are known on Hispaniola (Keegan 2007) MC 6 is not a typical Hispaniolan or Lucayan village, but a place with unique qualities. These s tructures were made to impress visitors and, therefore, unnecessary when people living at MC 6 traded their wares on Hispaniola. The unique combination of features created an image of equality, if not superiority to its visitors. Visiting MC 6 was

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320 a sensuo us experience and its splendor was a materialization of its power. In addition, hosting people and feasts enabled the people living at MC 6 to engage with a wide variety of exchange partners, instead of a single trade partner, from multiple locations and i ncreasing the effectiveness of their gifts. MC 6 was a place where people and identities gathered, which created something exclusive and incomparable in the whole region. People, and not regions, create these relations. Even though these interactions took place at a large scale and people on Hispaniola and Middle Caicos must have had we re formed and negotiated by very few people who make the se trips. Furthermore, exchange is a social contract that est ablishes a very specific connection between two agents never between two islands or larger regions. Although the regions where these exchange partners live are important in respect to the social identities involved, Hispaniola and Middle Caicos never exch anged, but people from these islands did (Morsink in press a) Hence, objects moved between very specific people and referenced these intersubjective relationships rather than connections between islands. Feasts are events that are specifically suited for the creation and negotiation of these intersubjective relations through gift giving (Dietler 2001; Dietler and Hayden 2001; Helms 1998; Munn 1986; Rosman and Rubel 1971) Arrivals of people from afar were special occasions that were likely accompanied by feasts. Other phenomena, like changes in seasons or social events like deaths, births and even successions of power are all part of life. Many of these phenomena are not left unnoticed and specific rituals, including food and drinks, are held. In sum, cert ain episodes are socially important

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321 MC 6 is no exception. Multiple lines of evidence from the material record indicate feasting practices at MC 6. First, eight pottery vess els have convex out rims, five have outflaring rims and seven are plates, all displaying an open orifice. These vessels were likely used for serving foods in a communal setting, because they openly display the food (DeBoer 2001) People within this communa l setting can reach for food and these actions are observed by the other participants. In addition, the most common food in the prehistoric Caribbean is the pepper pot, which is a liquid and cannot be contained in these vessels. That these plates could not dishes were used for special foods. The seven plates, of which six are from structure IV, do not hold liquids and suggest that at least some aspect of food consumption was communal. This is consistent (2004) conclusion that prehistoric Caribbean feasts were communal events. Table 8 1 Vessel lots with open orifices per excavation location. Location Convex out Outflaring Plate Midden 1 1 Structure II 5 1 Structure IV 2 2 6 Structure V I Total 8 3 7 Second, zooarchaeological data provide some information. One non native species is recognized, namely a species in the family Emydidae, a fresh water turtle. Fresh water turtles do not live on the islands, although it is possible that t his is similar to the extinct tortoise that is found at the Coralie site, Grand Turk (Carlson, personal communication). A large bone from structure II is another hint for feasting. It was first

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322 thought that this was a complete plastron of a turtle and the porous bone underneath supported this identification. However, the bone is incredible thick, over 10 cm, and looks mammalian. Although the bone has not been identified, it is probably a whale vertebra. The flat side, previously interpreted as the outside o f the plastron, is the part that contacts the next vertebra. Humpback whales seasonally migrate from the warm water of the Dominican Republic to Newfoundland and further north. In their migration, they often swim through the Turks Island passage between th e Turks Islands and the Caicos bank between January and March. A large part of this massive animal is missing, but one whale would have provided a large amount of meat. Whales and dolphins are known to beach themselves in these islands. The recovery of a b eached whale would probably have initiated a feast. The archaeological remains from inside structure IV are potentially the product of feasting practices. First, six of the seven plates are from this specific location. Furthermore, the deposits inside of t his structure yielded large amounts of pottery (total weight of 2600 g from both test units), bone (43 NISP from one of the test units), shell (50 g from both test units) and coral (16 g from both units) and these items were purposefully deposited here. On e imported rim sherd was decorated with a fish or frog motif. Finally, four related pieces of brass, a non native artifact and probably obtained through interaction with the Europeans are deposited here. These deposits are not random and a mere product of haphazard practices. Brass was unknown in the pre colonial Caribbean region and this artifact references interaction with the European invaders. Sullivan (1981) found another brass ornament across the plaza in structure I. This small ornament had a cresce nt shape and is

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323 interpreted as caracoli a metal object highly valued by the Caribs in the Lesser Antilles (Sullivan 1981:145) A straight line connects structure IV to the center stone on the middle of the plaza to structure I. That two brass ornaments we re found in these two structures is unlikely a coincidence. The difference in bone assemblages between structure IV and the adjacent midden is not significant, except for the presence of 8 NISP of snakes ( Colubridae ) inside the structure and none in the mi dden. However, and most importantly, the phosphorus soil tests are significantly differ ent, namely an average of 1448 m g/kg inside the structure and 7385 m g/kg in the (Roth 2002) The total phosphorus concentration should have been much higher if food remains on bones or in vessels were discarded inside the structure. Therefore, fish and meats were prepared and eat en outside this structure and only deposited, after consumption. This practice of dumping finished food remains must have been the product of specific eating practices as seen between the structure and the plaza. Finally, p ottery found at MC 6 shows a specific pattern as well. Most rims, used for vessel lot analysis, were unique and could not be associated with other sherds. Almost every rim was designated a separate vesse l lot, even though most did not comprise more than 5% of the total diameter. For most pots, therefore, at least 95% of the rim was missing. In structure IV, for example, 26 vessel lots are identified from all individual rim sherds. The 269 imported sherds that were found came from 45 unique vessels. With low average weights per sherd, the pottery from the site seems to be deliberately

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324 broken. The pattern here describes a high amount of vessels, but small numbers of sherds per vessel and these sherds are all relatively small. This is the opposite of what w ould be expected in a location where pots were broken and left, namely few vessels and sherds, but high average weight per sherd In addition, t h e difference between local and non local pottery was also reco gnized by native people. Thin and black pottery with volcanic temper is quite different from the red and thick pottery with shell temper. The pottery is an index of place. These different pots reference different places and people. The se archaeological dep osits ar e therefore, not typical of what w ould be expected for a midden deposit reflecting mundane practices Table 8 2 Phosphorus concentration from inside structures and midden area of MC 6. N7E7 is the midden area and shows significantly higher concent rations than inside structures ID# Location TotaP (m g/kg) 1 center structure II 1801 2 center structure IV 1979 3 NW structure IV 1671 4 NE structure IV 1304 5 W boundary N3E2, N4E2 4601 6 E boundary N3E2, N4E2 1986 7 SW structure IV 4031 8 SE str ucture IV 2138 9 Center structure VI 1407 10 NW structure VI 1366 11 NE structure VI 1570 12 SE N1E1 1497 13 NE N1E1 1420 14 NW N1E1 1882 15 SW N1E1 2237 16 NW N7E7 7361 17 NE N7E7 9344 18 SE N7E7 5341 19 SW N7E7 7494

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325 Table 8 3 Count of ves sel lots per excavated location Location Count Of Vessel Lots Midden 28 Structure II 84 Structure IV 26 Structure VI 13 The unusual assemblage of pottery suggests that people established intersubjective relations through pottery. The deliberate acts of breaking pots and depositing only a certain part of the vessel are both conscious acts that reference other people, times and places. The material aspects of imported pottery reminded people of their non local origin and extra local social relations, in cluding trade partners, affines and other people from afar Furthermore, observing these sherds in ways similar to an archaeologist, they realized that many parts of the total vessel we re missing. The advantage that they might have had in interpreting this pattern though, is that they were knowledgeable about where the other pieces went! The physical presence of clearly different vessels form non local origins reminded the observer of links to places where these pots came from, who imported them, from whom these vessels were obtained and where the reminder of the se pot s w ere This process of creating links through deliberate acts of breaking artifacts and moving pieces to different context s is a practice that Chapman (2000) also recognizes in the Balkan Neo lithic. He describes this process as acts of fragmentation. He emphasizes that these acts of fragmentation are done in a context with two agents, in which both decide to break the objects and both take a piece. The broken piece is a physical index and remi nder of the social relatio n between these two and the object acts as a mnemonic device for the social contract that was established. In later situations, people might break these pieces even further, creating multiple and complex

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326 relationships. Ye t, the br oken piece remind s t he owner that a part is missing and simultaneously establishes a relation to other places and people who own the other pieces. This connection and creation of a relational network is what he calls enchainment (Chapman 2000:6) Figure 8 1 Drawings of the fish/frog and bat sherd. Drawings by Kristina Ballard. Two pieces of pottery found at MC 6 might have been used in practices of enchainment and fragmentation ; the frog/fish and the bat sherd. The frog/fish rim found inside structure I V, is part of a handle and the pot most likely had another decorated handle when it was complete. No other matching sherds were found in its vicinity and this decorated piece was the only sherd from that vessel. This type o f decoration is normally found i n the Greate r Antilles and, therefore, references these locations. In

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327 relation to the sherd with the bat motif, retrieved from structure II, no other sherds m atching this vessel were found. This decoration is typical of a bottle and the style is associated Both sherds are fragments of larger vessels and the remaining parts were deposited in other locations. Physical properties of these sherds reminded the observer of the people who shared this vessel, the locations on Hispaniola and the other locations where the other parts of the vessel were. A complex relational network between these fragments, people involved in the exchange and fragmentation and locations where these sherds came from and were deposited was created. People at MC 6 were constantly reminded by the se mnemonic device s of their contacts on Hispaniola. People at MC 6 were always engrained in a web of social relations that included people and places on Hispaniola. Figure 8 2 Metal object foun d in structure IV. The original objects could have been a knife The two brass objects, discussed previously, were of a similar nature. These materials were unknown before contact. The material qualities of brass immediately reminded the observers of the p resence of Europeans in the region and suggest some

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328 sort of beneficial interaction with these groups. Likely, both items were exchanged and the Europeans must have received something of value in return. These two brass objects linked MC 6 to Europeans and their emerging power in the New World. 8 .8 Conclusion The significance of MC 6 was as much created at MC 6 as it was on Hispaniola and other location s in the Caribbean region. The importance of salt, fish and cotton only make sense in a circum Caribbean p erspective considering that these resources are scarce elsewhere. Demand for these products needed to be high for MC 6 to become important. People at MC 6 might have created this demand by supplying their goods to Hispaniola and establish debts. As a possi ble consequence, the import of salt and protein facilitated population growth and the institutionalization of social complexity, and Hispaniola subsequently became dependent upon a steady supply from MC 6 and other salt producing places. This also directs attention to historical developments and the interaction between MC 6 and other regions. Salt only established its regional importance in relation to larger populations and increased social complexity on Hispaniola and other islands. MC 6 was completely en meshed in a large regional network of exchanges through which values were created and the site gathered its status. To understand MC 6, it must be appreciated outside of its isolation on Middle Caicos. Although the final discussion of this Chapter mainly f ocused on Hispaniola, salt, fish and cotton were important exchange products throughout the Caribbean region, even with mainland South America and Mesoamerica. Caribbean archaeology is often considered in isolation of the wider region, although more recent publications have tried to incorporate this circum Caribbean perspective (Geurds and Broekhoven 2010;

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329 Hofman et al. 2010; Hofman et al. 2011; Rodrguez Ramos 2010, 2011; Rodrguez Ramos and Pagn 2006; Torres and Rodrguez Ramos 2008) Emphasis, however, is placed on how these mainland regions influenced people in the Caribbean after initial colonization, with this interaction often portrayed unidirectionally. Although material evidence of Caribbean goods might be absent in South America or Mesoamerica, so mething must have been returned. The lack of material evidence suggests that return gifts were perishable goods. Salt, salted fish and cotton are top candidates for high quality products coming from the Caribbean that were in demand elsewhere. Other goods, such as peppers and tobacco, should also be considered. Furthermore, the use of early historical documents can illuminate these exchange networks and which products were important in prehistoric communities. The invasion by Europeans is often thought of a s a radical change with the past. New people arrive with new ideas. The rapid decline of local populations resulted in a total loss of indigenous cultural knowledge. Yet, this discussion shows that at least some of the major colonial industries were in som e way continuations of prehistoric practices. Cotton ion because of a large demand for these resources in the home countries of the colonists They were important components of native eco nomies that endured through time The image of entrepreneurship that these people had. These people were well aware of the benefits that the Caribbean had to offer and they fully e ngaged in the exploitation of these resources.

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330 The landscape, as an experience of dwelling, constantly changes. When Europeans arrived, the demand for salt was shifted from local populations to Europe. Although salt remained an important export product fo r the Caribbean, its meaning shifted from local values and connotations to associations with a European power. In similar ways, meanings and values of the Turks & Caicos Islands must have changed when people from the central Bahamas migrated into the area and established permanent settlements. The character of periodic visits from Hispaniola shifted and people stopped visiting the islands to extract resources personally. During the exchange of materials, two different identities were created at both ends of the spectrum. In relation to social change, this discussion shows how practices of economic exploitation create different identities. The concept of taskscape explained how these different identities were created. Starting from the microscale, the tasksca pes involved in products on Hispaniola and the Turks & Caicos Islands were incompatible with each other. It is physically impossible for one person to grow corn, tobacco, manioc and other products on Hispaniola while raking salt, fishing and growing cotton on Middle Caicos. The demand for labor at specific times of the year completely overlap and at least two groups of people are necessary to exploit both sets of resources. The decisions they made in their economic practices restricted mobility and interact ion became less frequent, because all these practices were labor intensive and localized. Building from the microscale, taskscapes explain how local identities were established and maintained and how unintentional consequences of prolonged habitation provi ded the seeds for local expressions of personhood.

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331 This Chapter provided another methodological tool that demonstrates how a practice oriented perspective can approach these concepts. Starting from the bottom, i.e. what people do on a day to day basis, it is possible to address issues that emerge at a larger scale. At the same time, these issues on a larger scale influenced practices on the microscale. This constant feedback between people and larger social structures and frameworks of reference made MC 6 i nto what it was.

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332 CHAPTER 9 CONCLUSION: THE POWE R OF SALT Salt is a powerful resource that has not received the attention it deserves. The connection between power and salt is often recognized, but the mechanisms that translate material qualities of salt into social status and power are not often considered. This study argues that salt transforms food into produce, which subsequently can be employed in exchange relations. Through exchange, different positions of power between donor and giver are establishe d. In combination with resource specific qualities of different salts, produce is an inalienable gift that symbolizes the power of the group that controls production. This process is spatially concentrated and materialized at MC 6. Approaching this site fr om a practice oriented perspective illustrates how people engaged with salt and established a local economy based on the exchange of salted produce. MC were successfully negotiated an d people maximized the potential of the spatial concentration of resources at the site. This strong structural, almost universal relation between salt and power has been recognized by many scholars (i.e. Adshead 1992; Andrews 1983; Andrews and Mock 2002; A strup et al. 1993; Bloch 1976; Brown 1999; Denton 1982; Ewald 1985; Flad 2005, 2007; Godelier 1971; Hewitt et al. 1987; Jakle 1969; Jones 1964; Kepecs 2004; Kroeber 1976; Kurlansky 2003; MacKinnon and Kepecs 1989; McKillop 1995, 2002; McKillop and Sabloff 2005; Muller 1984, 1987; Nenquin 1961; Parsons 2001; Pomeroy 1988; Tibesar 1950; Trumbull 1899; Williams 2002) quantity stand in sharp contrast to the past. Salt, the white gold, was a symbol of wealth. Explanations of ho w this economic resource transforms its inherent value into

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333 the dietary need for this product or its ability to preserve. Few mechanisms are offered regarding how th is process takes place and what happens between the exploitation of this resource and consumption. A holistic anthropological perspective is lacking. This study fills this void. Reasoned from a practice oriented relationist approach, this discussion change s the emphasis of research from the material qualities of salt, i.e. the dietary need and the ability to preserve, to how these material qualities influenced how people used this resource. Hence, the focus of this research is on the processes involved in t he exploitation and uses of salt, rather than its form and static Therefore, people have to be placed first. This study argues for a conceptual division between food a nd produce. These two concepts relate to different ways that food is used by people. Edible goods produced for consumption only are foods. Most studies just assume that the production of edibles is for consumption. Edibles produced with the intention of co nsumption are labeled food. Because most foods are ultimately consumed, this category seems applicable to all edible goods. In the end, edibles are consumed, so all practices that take place before that point are all aimed at this final conclusive event. C onsumption is the reason why food is harvested. Produce, however, is focused on the exchange of edible goods. Although consumption indeed follows the exchange, these products are grown for exchange and not for consumption. People grow produce to give these items away to engage in social relationships and establish exchange networks. Eating is only a byproduct that occurs

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334 after the edible fulfills its main function, namely creating a debt between donor and receiver. Produce is, therefore, better appreciated in an exchange paradigm. Production is optimized to gather more resources that, subsequently, can be employed in exchange relations. This practice of produce exchange is firmly grounded in ethnographic examples and sharing of food is a universal way to est ablish social relations. Munn (1977) argues very specifically that edible goods, in her study yams, are the basis for every exchange relation. Even in kula, a highly competitive exchange circle of valuables, the paths between exchange partners are founded upon the exchange of produce. Because of its a bility to preserve food, salt changes the processes of exchange Whereas d ecay forces people to use edibles in a short period after harvest, salted goods can be preserved and kept for future situations People can use edibles in the way they choose and are not limited by the time the item lasts. Immediate consumption is unnecessary and food is stored for times of need. People are, with salt, able to accumulate large amounts of produce that were previously impos sible to gather at a large scale. Although some edibles preserve naturally, such as yams and manioc, other edibles do not and it is especially the status of these products that is completely altered through salt. Salt transforms edible goods previously ass ociated with food into produce. Highly sought goods, such as meat and fish, are suddenly capable of becoming produce from loss. Seasonal abundances, for example, can now b e fully exploited beyond local needs. Accumulation of previously perishable items is possible and can be used as

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335 gifts. Salt opens up new avenues to exchange certain objects. Salt enables people to use edibles differently, especially in exchanges. Exchange creates a debt between the giver and receiver, causing an imbalance of power in which the giver is superior to the receiver. The receiver owes the giver and the of at least equal value. However, interest is often expected, especially after a delay between the original and the return gift. Hence, through exchange, the giver establishes a power position that is nullified or reversed after he/she receives more than the original gift. By giving valuables away, the giver expects to increase his wealth through anticipated return gifts. In the case of salt, this means that more produce means more debts and, subsequently, more power and wealth. More produce basically allows the owner to give more away to more people. Because edibles can now be produced beyond local needs without the consequence of losing this overproduction to decay, accumulated goods through salting practices can now be employed in more successful ways to n egotiate social status and power. This mechanism of produce exchange describes how economic production of edible goods generates structures and positions of power. People who grow and harvest more produce are better at creating and establishing positions o f power with respect to others with whom they exchange. Often, economic surplus is equated with social status, but the mechanism of exchange is crucial to understand how this economic wealth is transformed into social wealth. The importance of this mechani sm is

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336 often neglected in anthropological studies. However, economic wealth only becomes social wealth through exchange; it is not social wealth in and of itself. The exploitation of salt is future oriented. The ultimate goal in this process is establishing debts, positions of power and access to previously unavailable resources through exchange partners. All practices that precede these exchanges have these ambitions in mind. The positions of power and access to resources are the constant focus of people pr oducing salt, establishing debts and engaging with long distance exchange partners. Salt becomes an object that is used for future gains and immediate nutritional requirements are of less concern. Salt is harvested to overcome social, rather than nutrition al needs. People are drawn to locations of salt production, because of the potential of this resource. Places where salt occurs are limited and very spatially concentrated. An overall scarcity of this resource is balanced with very local abundance. Places of abundance become places of attention and people gather at these locations to exploit salt. People adapt their daily practices to produce this resource and fulfill its demand. Certain places in the environment are considered more important than others (B asso 1996) potential. One last characteristic of salt is important to understand the mechanisms of exchange, namely its inalienability. Salts from different sources and different production methods have very specific qualities that establish relationships between the salt and its source. Common salt, nowadays, is a commodity, stripped of its social values because of uniform color, grain size and purity. Yet, gourmet salts still sho w that salt is not just

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337 salt. Himalayan pink salt is intrinsically connected to the Himalayas and all its connotations. Sel gris and fleur de sel are both produced in the same salt evaporation ponds, but the way salt is evaporated and collected produce two salts that differ in quality, color, purity and, not unimportantly, price. The production processes and places of these salts are intrinsically connected to their material qualities. So, people in control of these places and production processes become re lated to these qualities as well. Their power over production will eventuate in their control over exchange in salt and salted goods. Gift giving creates a bond between the donor and receiver, the object that is transferred is a material reminder of the ex change. Successful practices of gift giving of very particular salt results in a direct relation between the salt and its original owner. The material quality of the salt becomes an index of the power and control of the person or social group. Social ident ities of people in power are directly linked to the specific attributes of the salt they control. Salt illuminates the significance of exchange within this transformation of economic production to social power. The relation between overproduction of stapl es and power differentiation is often associated with the ability to feed people who are not working in food production. Because people can now be fulltime specialists, as food is not a limiting factor, social stratification is established. However, it is through processes of exchange and gift giving that the social context is created, a context in which producers accept and tolerate this division of labor. Through continuous exchanges, certain power relations are objectified through time. The differentiati on of power is the result of overproduction by groups that are now non producers who, in preceding situations, successfully employed overproduced materials to objectify their social status.

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338 After objectifying these social positions, the division of labor i s changed. Social inequality is a product of economic production and the exchange of produce This focus on the ways people use salt explains why this resource is so often related to power and regarded of such high value. Salt transforms foods into produce that establish debts and power differences. Salt is an inalienable gift that is intrinsically connected to its place of origins, its producer and its symbolic references to pow er. The power of salt emanates from the ways people apply this resource in the social world and how they employ it to manipulate social relations. Through salt, more and larger debts are established, placing the original donor in a superior position vis vis other groups and people in their social environment. 9.1 MC 6 MC 6, Middle Caicos, the Turks & Caicos Islands, the case study of this study, materializes the importance of salt in a prehistoric Caribbean economy. The site is Ethnohistoric sources point to Hispaniola and Cuba as the main centers of the Caribbean economy at the end of the 15 th and beginning of the 16 th centuries. Material culture, population numbers, c of this Tano high culture and important sites are therefore not expected here. Yet, MC 6 has a very formal s tructural layout, stone structures, a clear central plaza and stone alignments that point to crucial positions of celestial bodies. The importance of MC 6 has previously been linked to the presence of salt (Keegan 2007; Sullivan 1981) MC 6 is located nex t to the largest salt producing pond in

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339 the whole region, namely Armstrong Pond. The Turks & Caicos Islands are well known for their salt products of high purity and quality. During two periods of the year, namely in April and May before the rainy season a nd in July and August in the middle of summer, conditions at Armstrong Pond are conducive for the natural production of salt. At these times, Armstrong Pond produces vast quantities of salt and little effort is needed to exploit this valuable resource. How ever, as mentioned earlier, the mere presence of salt provides no explanation for the importance of MC 6. This immediately exposes the main problem of a culture historical approach, as the main intention of this paradigm is to classify and categorize what sites are and how they fit into the large picture. This is best explained by an example. Sullivan (1981) working within a culture historical framework, identified MC 6 as a late prehistoric site by the presence of Chicoid pottery. The site is interpreted as a (Sullivan 1981:430) The presence of two plazas, elaborate stone structures and prestige objects are evidence for the presence of elites at the site. This elite structure of social organization was n ot a product of local historical sequences, but considered by Sullivan as an outcome of diffusion from Hispaniola into the region. Besides the introduction of a stratified society, religion was transposed as well, in the form of a zemi cult. In an attempt to classify the site, Sullivan (1981:425 430) labeled MC 6 as a gateway community. MC 6 was an intermediary between the location of resources, in this case salt from Armstrong Pond, and its long distance exchange relation with Hispaniola, as evidenced by the non local pottery that appears at the site. Gateway communities are characterized by commodity exchange from either sparsely populated

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340 areas or increased demands in trade. Furthermore, these types of settlement are Sullivan 1981:427). The site was established around 950 C.E., simultaneous with Chicoid expansion of Tano culture bearers. People on Hispaniola decided that the resources needed to be exploited on Middle C aicos and established a production center that would provide the necessary resources. Before that time, societies on Hispaniola had not evolved into chiefdoms that could have organized these sorts of endeavors. The Turks & Caicos Islands were colonized fro m the south and people kept contact with their places of origin on Hispaniola. However, this interpretation is completely guided by a culture historical framework. The l arge scale categories are imposed on MC 6 and Sullivan (1981) tries to fit the (1981) interpretation aims at the classification of this site within an existing framework rather than understanding how these people r elated to these larger scales. In fact, people are absent and social identities are normalized. For Sullivan (1981) MC 6 is an expression of Tano culture on Middle Caicos. For example, evidence for elites at MC 6 is absent, but assumed from the social stratification that exists among Tano groups. Radiocarbon dates are not used to place the site in its own temporality, but to affirm that it was part of the larger development of Tano expansion. The migration from Hispaniola is postulated because of the presence of pottery styles that appear to originate from that island and material culture is

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341 understood as a representation of identities. Conclusions are drawn from the general framework and data from MC 6 are normalized, fitted to be part of the larger structure and only appreciated from the macroscale. 9.2 Practice oriented Relationist Approach The perspective followed throughout this document totally distances itself from themes in culture history. An interpretation of MC 6 departs from a theoretical perspective and aims at understanding social relations from a microscale. The taskscape of MC 6 is proposed as a basic foundation of social life and the material record is appreciated in relation to that pe rspective. The emphasis is placed on practices and how people engage with their world, rather than what the material culture macroscales of analysis. To appreciate the social life of people at MC 6, local practices must be placed first. Interpretations must be solidly grounded in the local context, rather than how this site fits into the larger picture. An analysis of MC resources that were locally exploited. Salt seems to be the most important resource, as people start inhabiting the site as soon as Armstrong Pond changes and environmental conditions are optimal for the production of salt. However, people also fished the riches on the Caicos Bank, mostly bonefish and conch. Cotton is another possible resource that was exploited. Although these three might have been the main focus of the people living at MC 6, other practices definitely took place. Pottery was produced, gar dens were maintained, crops were grown, tools were made, and valuables were produced.

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342 In contrast with other regions in the Caribbean, the local climate on Middle Caicos, with two dry seasons, is ideal for both salt and cotton production. This climate, in combination with Armstrong Pond and the Caicos Bank, made MC 6 special and a spatial concentration with access to important and highly valued resources. One of the advantages of MC relativel y close proximity. This local environment is a perfect combination. At a microscale, people decided to exploit these resources and their local practices shaped social life. A relational network of interdependent practices, a taskscape, emerges from the exp loitation of salt, fish and cotton. Seasonal changes and time specific abundances were integrated into the economy and people tried to plan their efforts and practices in correspondence to these changes. The taskscape of MC 6 had a temporal scale of yearly routines adapted to the yearly cycles of these resources. Seasonal shifts in precipitation resonated with shift in practices, and people, adapted their daily activities in anticipation of these changes on longer time scales. Furthermore, cotton, fish and salt are one economy, as the exploitation of one influences the other. Salt has more value, in the prehistoric Caribbean, when it is combined with proteins rather than just the raw product. To maximize salt, fish must be maximized as well. Fishing revenues increase with net fishing, which enables catching large amounts of fish at once. Nets, made of cotton, are vital tools in this effort. To maximize fishing, cotton production had to be maximized. The production of cotton, fish and salt all comprised one co mplete economy of interdependent resources.

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343 This also implies that this whole economy was ultimately focused on the production of salted fish and cotton as important export products. Production of salted fish and cotton beyond local needs has very little effect if these products were only used at MC 6. A demand for these products outside MC 6 is needed to make exploitation profitable at such a distant location. The resources at MC 6 are only of importance because this combination of environmental factors i s unique in the region. A salt pond, a fertile marine bank and a hot and dry environment with two dry seasons in the year are exclusive characteristics of MC 6. The importance of MC 6 is founded on the local availability of certain resources that are in d emand in places that could be reached through exchange. Export to regions afar, most likely the island of Hispaniola, extended the spatial scale of reference. The social value and meaning of MC 6 and its products only make sense on a broader temporal and s patial scale. MC framework. Salt has power as it structures people. This takes place in two different ways. First, it enables people to overcome dietary needs, to enhance the taste of food and to preser ve edible goods. It facilitates accumulation of produce and subsequent exchange practices, creating debts and establishing positions of power. Second, it restricts when and where people can be. Seasonal availability limits the times of exploitation, meanin g people have to adapt their yearly routines to its presence. Salt also occurs in very specific places, impeding the mobility of people. Once established as a resource of value, salt production sites require protection.

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344 The material qualities of salt enabl agency and changes social relations and practices. Whereas the benefits of salt lure possibilities and decision making processes. Pe ople are drawn to salt for many reasons, exceeds its restrictions. Controlling salt conferred huge benefits in social networks of exchange and facilitated the creation of power differences. 9.3 New Avenues of Research A number of ques tions that arise from this study deserve more attention in future research. First, and foremost, this anthropological perspective emphasizes the role of salt in prehistoric communities. Al though this study is restricted to the Caribbean region, the mechanisms through which salt gains its importance are not. The first part of the study provides a tool to understand how salt might have been used to acquire power in si tuations outside the geog raphic boundaries of Caribbean region. The processes of how salt influences value transformation from economic production to social status and wealth remain the same. Other archaeological case studies involved in the production and exchange of salt are bet ter appreciated within the perspective discussed here. In places and times where and when salt was a structural problem and sources were uncommon or non existent, people must have adapted a system to overcome the dietary need. Certain locations, such as th e Amazon basin and the inland Maya lowlands, lacked direct access to salt resources. However, many other regions in the world are distant from salt resources and must have adapted to these needs. This study emphasizes the potential of salt in these social contexts.

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345 The heterogeneous distribution of salt sources also implies some sort of diversification and specialization, especially in sedentary social groups. This research on salt indicates that other regions in the Caribbean might have focused on other e conomic resources and had their own sort of specialization. Often, prehistoric economies are conceived of as if all villages were doing the same thing. However, salt emphasizes that certain local conditions are specifically suited for the exploitation of p articular resources, whereas other resources are either unavailable or are really time intensive to be productive. The differential distribution of resources induces disparate economies and dissimilar quotidian practices. This also means that other groups have different practices and societies and/or economies often categorized under one concept actually consist of multiple coexisting economies (Ensor 2000) This heterogeneity within an economy produces different social identities as well. The materiality a social identity becomes associated with his/her specialization. Blacksmiths, carpenters and glassblowers are specializations, but simultaneously social identities with their own yearly r outines, esoteric knowledge and temporalities. The foundation of social life lies within these quotidian practices and taskscapes. Reasoning from an economy of substances and a taskscape it is possible to understand the connection between the variation in resources and variation in social identities. Because social identities are founded upon daily practices that are directed to the exploitation of local resources, the social identity is to a significant degree dependent upon the local resources that are ex ploited. Practices relate the place where people live with their daily life and the social person they are becoming. The variation in the late prehistoric Caribbean region that is

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346 observed in the material record might have been the result of regional speci alizations that created different and incompatible temporalities of taskscapes. For late prehistoric groups, early historical documents might inform on these different taskscapes and resources that are exploited. Examples used in this study indicate that early historical documents can be used to reconstruct past economies. In situations where the impact of the Spanish was still minimal, large quantities of certain resources are likely a product of indigenous practices and economies. Furthermore, the Spanis h documents also indicate from whom the products were received and where these resources were exploited. This historical information can provide new insights into how different economies were distributed throughout the islands. This historical research mig ht be crucial for understanding the role of cotton in the region. The evidence for cotton is minimal, but Spanish documents are informative about its massive economic impact in the Caribbean region. New research could focus on pollen data of cotton in salt ponds, located in close proximity to possible prehistoric cotton fields. If the economy of cotton was indeed as important as the chronicles suggest, understanding the distribution and exploitation of this resource is of incredible importance. Cotton, like salt, probably was a major economic focus for prehistoric Caribbean people. Salt and cotton are both products that could have been transported beyond the geographic boundaries of the region. Current research provides more and more evidence of continued in teraction with other regions surrounding the Caribbean Sea. Unfortunately, the perception of this interaction is often unidirectionally and emphasizes how circum Caribbean regions continued to influence people on the islands. Cotton and

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347 salt of high qualit y and quantity are produced in the Caribbean region and in demand in regions surrounding the islands. Especially in relation with the potential power of salt, attention must be focused on how Caribbean peoples influenced these surrounding regions as well. Local differentiation within the site was left unexplored here. Settlements are not normalized entities without internal differences and the identities created per stone circle/structure could have been different. Future research should focus on the differ ences within the site, between the different structures and parts of the site. In relation to this internal differentiation, gender and the division of labor have not been fully explored. Men and women were most likely engaged in different practices, estab lishing and manipulating social identities between these groups. This is only one step towards the microscale, but the social variation within the site has to be assumed and acknowledged. Finally, the distinction between food and produce has the potential to explain the circumstances and this conceptual division is applicable to non salted edibles as well. The choice for durable edibles is often explained as an economic solutio n for anticipated shortages, but it might have been much more of a social than an economic decision. Durable edibles, like salted foods, might function more as produce than food. The production of edibles focuses as much on social needs as it does on nutri tional needs. Although food is an absolute need, most prehistoric groups had multiple options to satisfy this need. The questions must not involve what they ate, but how they ate and why.

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348 The production of sufficient foods seems not to have been the bigge st problem for most prehistoric societies, but how to negotiate social relations through food was. Understanding the material aspects, including seasonality and durability of certain crops, provides a better understanding of how people created social ident ities through interaction and exchange. An exchange paradigm for produce completely changes how food is perceived from an anthropological perspective and provides the methodological tool and mechanism that transforms economic wealth into social status. The future oriented perspective on daily practices, and in this case, food and produce provisioning, also points to other considerations for archaeologists. Material products in the archaeological record provide information regarding how people were engaging in relations and manifested themselves in social arenas where identities are constantly contested. The static material record is not a representation of how relationships are, but how they were formed and negotiated. Objects, including salt, are essential components that fabricate people and relationships. Anthropological analysis should not be focused on the material, but the relations that were created through the material. This study shows how material qualities of economic products enable and restrict p boundaries of the world and engage with physicality of objects and their environment. Furthermore, this study shows how people utilize certain material aspects of salt, such as the nutritional qualities and ability to preserve perishables, to satisfy social, rather than biological needs. Values and meanings are created in the process of interaction h acts of

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349 indebting imbues this resource with power. Finally, this study, starting from the microscale, i.e. how people actually engage with their material world, provides a methodological tool to understand and perceive the social world from a perspective that is grounded in native practices.

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350 APPENDIX A CALIBRATION REPORT C 14 DATES RADIOCARBON CALIBRATION PROGRAM* CALIB REV6.0.0 Copyright 1986 2010 M Stuiver and PJ Reimer *To be used in c onjunction with: Stuiver, M., and Reimer, P.J., 1993, Radiocarbon, 35, 215 230. Annotated results (text) Export file c14res.csv Core 1 UGAMS 8763 shell Radiocarbon Age BP 840 +/ 25 De lta R = 35.0 +/ 56.0 Calibration data set: Marine/INTCAL09 # Reimer et al. 2009 % area enclosed cal AD age ranges relative area under probability distribution 68.3 (1 sigma) cal AD 1333 1360 0.273 1386 1438 0.727 95.4 (2 sigma) cal AD 13 14 1450 1.000 Core 2 UGAMS 8764 shell Radiocarbon Age BP 620 +/ 25 Delta R = 35.0 +/ 56.0 Calibration data set: Marine/INTCAL09 # R eimer et al. 2009 % area enclosed cal AD age ranges relative area under probability distribution 68.3 (1 sigma) cal AD 1443 1498 1.000 95.4 (2 sigma) cal AD 1424 1534 0.942 1558 1563 0.006 1573 1583 0.011 1592 1619 0.041 Core 3 UGAMS 8765 shell Radiocarbon Age BP 830 +/ 25 Delta R = 35.0 +/ 56.0 Calibration data set: Marine/INTCAL09 # Reimer et al. 2009 % area enclosed cal AD age ranges relative area under probability distribution 68.3 (1 sigma) cal AD 1320 1373 0.723 1377 1397 0.277 95.4 (2 sigma) cal AD 1297 1418 1.000 Core 4 UGAMS 8766 shell

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351 Radiocarbon Age BP 1110 +/ 25 Delta R = 35.0 +/ 56.0 Calibration data set: Marine/INTCAL09 # Reimer et al. 2009 % area enclosed cal AD age ranges relative area under probability distribution 68.3 (1 sigma) cal AD 1177 1267 1.000 95.4 (2 sigma) cal AD 1077 1085 0.008 1098 1292 0.992 Core 5 UGAMS 8767 shell Radiocarbon Age BP 1400 +/ 25 Delta R = 35.0 +/ 56.0 Calibration data set: M arine/INTCAL09 # Reimer et al. 2009 % area enclosed cal AD age ranges relative area under probability distribution 68.3 (1 sigma) cal AD 784 794 0.071 796 896 0.929 95.4 (2 sigma) cal AD 729 746 0.020 765 973 0.980 Core 6 UGAMS 8768 shell Radiocarbon Age BP 2840 +/ 30 Delta R = 35.0 +/ 56.0 Calibration data set: Marine/INTCAL09 # Reimer et al. 2009 % area enclosed cal AD age ranges relative area under probability distribution 68.3 (1 sigma) cal BC 812 733 1.000 95 .4 (2 sigma) cal BC 845 581 1.000 Core 7 UGAMS 8769 shell Radiocarbon Age BP 3000 +/ 25 Delta R = 35.0 +/ 56.0 Calibration data set: Marin e/INTCAL09 # Reimer et al. 2009 % area enclosed cal AD age ranges relative area under probability distribution 68.3 (1 sigma) cal BC 935 823 1.000 95.4 (2 sigma) cal BC 1005 798 1.000 Core 8 UGAMS 8770 shell Radiocarbon Age BP 4360 +/ 30 Delta R = 35.0 +/ 56.0 Calibration data set: Marine/INTCAL09 # Reimer et al. 2009 % area enclosed cal AD age ranges relative area under probability distribution 68.3 (1 sigma) cal BC 2746 2573 1.000

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352 95.4 (2 sigma) cal BC 2849 2544 0.976 2521 2498 0.024 Core 9 UGAMS 8771 shell Radiocarbon Age BP 4190 +/ 30 Delta R = 35.0 +/ 56.0 Calibration data set: Marine/INTCAL09 # Reimer et al. 2009 % area enclosed cal AD age ranges relative area under probability distribution 68.3 (1 sigma) cal BC 2495 2350 1.000 95.4 (2 sigma) cal BC 2566 2300 1.000 FS 18 UGAMS 8772 charcoal Radiocarbon Age BP 470 +/ 25 Calibration data set: intcal09.14c # Reimer et al. 2009 % area enclosed cal AD age ranges relative area under probability distribution 68.3 (1 sigma) cal AD 1427 1444 1.000 95.4 (2 sigma) cal AD 1415 1451 1.000 FS 34 UGAMS 8773 charcoal Radiocarb on Age BP 580 +/ 25 Calibration data set: intcal09.14c # Reimer et al. 2009 % area enclosed cal AD age ranges relative area under probability distribution 68.3 (1 sigma) cal AD 1319 1351 0.691 1390 1406 0.309 95.4 (2 sigma) cal AD 1304 1 364 0.671 1384 1414 0.329 FS 35 UGAMS 8774 charcoal Radiocarbon Age BP 550 +/ 25 Calibration data set: intcal09.14c # Reimer et al. 2009 % area enclosed cal AD age ranges relative area under probability distribution 68.3 (1 sigma) cal AD 1328 1341 0.292 1395 1419 0.708 95.4 (2 sigma) cal AD 1317 1354 0.380 1389 1430 0.620 FS 37 UGAMS 8775 charcoal Radiocarbon A ge BP 610 +/ 25

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353 Calibration data set: intcal09.14c # Reimer et al. 2009 % area enclosed cal AD age ranges relative area under probability distribution 68.3 (1 sigma) cal AD 1303 1327 0.417 1342 1366 0.401 1383 1395 0.182 95.4 (2 sigma) cal AD 1297 1374 0.777 1376 1401 0.223 FS 40 UGAMS 8776 charcoal Radiocarbon Age BP 470 +/ 25 Calibration data set: intcal09.14c # Reimer et al. 2009 % area enclosed cal AD age ranges relative area under probability distribution 68.3 (1 sigma) cal AD 1427 1444 1.000 95.4 (2 sigma) cal AD 1415 1451 1.000 FS 45 UGAM S 8777 charcoal Radiocarbon Age BP 340 +/ 25 Calibration data set: intcal09.14c # Reimer et al. 2009 % area enclosed cal AD age ranges relative area under probability distribution 68.3 (1 sigma) cal AD 14 92 1525 0.332 1557 1603 0.463 1611 1631 0.205 95.4 (2 sigma) cal AD 1473 1636 1.000 FS 48 UGAMS 8778 charcoal Radiocarbon Age BP 570 +/ 25 Calibration data set: intcal09.14c # Reimer et al. 2009 % area enclosed cal AD age ranges relative are a under probability distribution 68.3 (1 sigma) cal AD 1322 1348 0.579 1392 1410 0.421 95.4 (2 sigma) cal AD 1308 1361 0.598 1386 1419 0.402 FS 49 UGAMS 87 79 charcoal Radiocarbon Age BP 620 +/ 25 Calibration data set: intcal09.14c # Reimer et al. 2009 % area enclosed cal AD age ranges relative area under probability distribution 68.3 (1 sigma) cal AD 1299 1323 0.405 1347 1369 0.393 1380 1392 0.202

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354 95.4 (2 sigma) cal AD 1293 1333 0.394 1336 1398 0.606 FS 51 UGAMS 8780 charcoal Radiocarbon Age BP 550 +/ 25 Calibration data set: intcal09.14c # Reimer et al. 2009 % area enclosed cal AD age ranges relative area under probability distribution 68.3 (1 sigma) cal AD 1328 1341 0.292 1395 1419 0.708 95.4 (2 sigma) cal AD 1317 1354 0.380 1389 1430 0.620 FS 52 UGAMS 8781 charcoal Radiocarbon Age BP 570 +/ 25 Calibration data set: intcal09.14c # Reimer et al. 2009 % area enclosed cal AD age ranges relative area under probability distribution 68.3 (1 sigma) cal AD 1322 1348 0.579 1392 1410 0.421 95.4 (2 sigma) cal AD 1308 1361 0.598 1386 1419 0.402 References for calibration datasets: PJ Reimer, MGL Baillie, E Bard, A Bayliss, JW Beck, C Bertran d, PG Blackwell, CE Buck, G Burr, KB Cutler, PE Damon, RL Edwards, RG Fairbanks, M Friedrich, TP Guilderson, KA Hughen, B Kromer, FG McCormac, S Manning, C Bronk Ramsey, RW Reimer, S Remmele, JR Southon, M Stuiver, S Talamo, FW Taylor, J van der Plicht, and CE Weyhenmeyer (2009), Radiocarbon 51:xxx yyy. KA Hughen, MGL Baillie, E Bard, A Bayliss, JW Beck, C Bertrand, PG Blackwell, CE Buck, G Burr, KB Cutler, PE Damon, RL Edwards, RG Fairbanks, M Friedrich, TP G uilderson, B Kromer, FG McCormac, S Manning, C Bronk Ramsey, PJ Reimer, RW Reimer, S Remmele, JR Southon, M Stuiver, S Talamo, FW Taylor, J van der Plicht, and CE Weyhenmeyer (2009), Radiocarbon 46:1059 1086. Comments: This standard deviation (error) includes a lab error multiplier. ** 1 sigma = square root of (sample std. dev.^2 + curve std. dev.^2) ** 2 sigma = 2 x square root of (sample std. dev.^2 + curve std. dev.^2) where ^2 = quantity squared. [ ] = calibrated range impinges on end of calibration data set 0* represents a "negative" age BP 1955* or 1960* denote influence of nuclear testing C 14

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355 NOTE: Cal ages and ranges are rounded to the nearest year which may be too precise in many instances. Users are advised to round results to the nearest 10 yr for samples with standard deviation in the radiocarbon age greater than 50 yr.

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356 APPENDIX B CHLORIDE SOIL SAMPLE TESTING RESULTS ID# Location Cl(mg/kg) 1 structure II 637.8 2 structure IV 716.4 3 NW structure IV 641.3 4 NE structure IV 542.0 5 W boundary N3E2,N4E2 545.1 6 E boundary N3E2,N4E2 534.3 7 SW structure IV 598.5 8 SE structure IV 192.3 9 Center N6E6 1086 10 NW N6E6 1357 11 NE N6E6 833 .7 12 SE N1E1 568.3 13 NE N1E1 530.0 14 NW N1E1 540.7 15 SW N1E1 583.3 16 NW N7E7 3713 17 NE N7E7 2479 18 SE N7E7 2876 19 SW N7E7 2918 20 ssl1 587.0 21 ssl 3 130.1 22 ssl 3.1 35.99 23 ssl 4 60.74 24 ssl 5 41.01 25 ssl 6 65.23 26 ssl 7 174.0 27 ssl 8 83.73 28 ssl 9 56.54 29 ssl 10 181.1 30 ssl 11 11320 31 ssl 12 98.81 32 ssl 13 297.9 33 ssl 14 42.80 34 ssl 15 31.08 35 ssl 16 194.5 36 ssl 17 96.79 37 ssl 18 189.8 38 ssl 19 61.16 39 ssl 20 15343 40 ssl 21 1181 41 ssl 22 254.5 42 ssl 23 92.90 43 ssl 24 590.8 44 ssl 25 2127 45 ssl 26 101.0 46 ssl 27 6444 47 ssl 28 12240 48 ssl 29 3664 49 ssl 30 78.19

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380 APPENDIX D MAP OF MC 6 Map made by Sullivan, using a transit. Map was not published in his study

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383 APPENDIX G POTTERY Attribute Table courtesy of Dr. Josh Torres and SEARCH Inc. ATTRIBUTE CODE LIST 1 Regular Body Sherd 2 Shoulder In > 18 Handle/Anthropomorphic 3 Shoulder Out > 19 Handle Biomorphic 4 Base Flat 20 Handle Lug or cylindrical 5 Base Concave 21 Handle Loop (wide) 6 Base Convex 22 Body sherd with button 7 Base Annular/Pedestal 23 Ridge 8 Handle/strap below ri m 24 Buren (cassava griddle) 9 Handle/strap above rim 25 Worked Sherd 10 Handle/strap with Button 26 Effigy Fragment (Describe) 11 Handle/strap Indeterminate 27 Topias 12 Hand Lug Residual (vestigial) 28 Incense Burner 13 Handle/ Residual w/inc 29 Jar/Neck 14 Handle/Tubular 30 Other (Describe) 15 Handle/Tabular (describe in comments) 31 RIM 16 Handle/Applique (describe in comments) 32 Spindle Whorl 17 Handle/Zoomorphic 33 Lip 99 Indeterminate THICKNES (THK) : Use caliper to measure thickness most representative of the sherd (mm). WEIGHT (WGHT): Weight of the vessel in grams (0.0). RIM 1 Parallel 9 Flat In Platformed 2 Thickened In/Ext 10 Rounded Out Platformed 3 Thickened In Round 11 Rounded In Platformed 4 Thickened In Angular 12 Flat Double Platformed 5 Thickened Ext. Round 13 Out folded 6 Thickened Ext. Angular 14 In folded 7 Thinned 29 Not Applicable 8 Flat Out Platformed 99 Indeterminate ORIENTATION 1 Straight Ve rtical 8 Outflaring 2 Composite 9 Plate 3 Straight Out 10 Buren (Cass. Griddle) 5 Convex Vertical 11 Jar

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38 4 6 Convex In 12 Misc. 7 Convex Out 99 Indeterminate ORIFICE DIAMETER (DIAM): If RIM -Use polar graph paper measuring chart to attain ORIFICE DIAMETER in cm. VESSEL PERCENTAGE: If RIM use polar graph paper to measure percentage of the orifice represented. If under 5% put 4%. LIP: If RIM document lip form. 1 Tapered 6 Rounded Out Beveled 2 Flat Beveled In 7 Fla t 3 Flat Beveled Out 8 Rounded 4 Double Beveled 29 Not Applicable 5 Roounded In Beveled 99 Indeterminate PASTE TEXTURE (PST_TXT) 0 Non tempered 3 Medium/Coarse 0.5 1.0 mm 1 Fine ~0.25 mm 4 Coarse >0.5 mm 2 Medium 0.25 0.5 mm (Note: Use Sand Grain Sizing Folder; use most abundant grain size). PASTE TYPE (PST_TYPE): Composition of paste after Cordell (2008:261 272). 1 Volcanic 5 Mixed Felsic 2 Quartz 6 Vitrified 3 Limestone 7 Maphic/Micaceous 4 Felsic 39 Not Measured 99 Indeterminate Add 1 to the beginning of the number to denote paste containing grog temper. Add 2 to the beginning of the number to denote paste containing shell temper (not limestone). EXTERIOR, INTERIOR SURFACE PASTE COLOR AND CORE COLOR (S RF_CLR/INT_CLR/CORE_CLR): 1 Brown 8 Other (Specify in comments) 2 Buff/Cream 9 Indeterminate 3 Orange 10 Reddish Brown 4 Red 11 Orangish Brown 5 Black (not smudging) 1 2 Dark Brown 6 Smudging Black (Is not paint) 13 Pale Brown 7 White/Gray 14 Orangish Red 29 Not Measured

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385 1 Smoothed 4 Burnished 7 Painted 2 Smoothed/Floated 5 Slipped 8 Indeterminate 3 Smudged 6 Erroded/Bat tered 9 NONE PAINT/SLIP (PNT_SLP): Paint or slip observed on sherd 1 Red Slip 7 Black on Buff 12 Black on Red 17 Pale Brown Slip 2 Orange Slip 8 White on Buff 13 White on Red 18 Red Paint 4 White Slip 9 Red on Buff 1 4 Polychrome 99 Indeterminate 5 Pink Slip 10 Negative Design 15 Other 6 Orange on Buff 11 White on Orange 16 Brown Slip (Note: Describe design in comments. For Polychromes list colors in comments. If black, make sure is not smudging.) PAINT/SLIP LOCATION (PNTSLP_LOC): 1 Int. Wall 7 Lip 13 Shoulder 2 Ext. Wall 8 Int. Rim/Ext. Wall 3 Both Walls 9 Ext. Rim/Int. Wall 15 Other 4 Int. Rim 10 Handle 5 Ext. Rim 11 Multiple Locations 6 Both Rims 12 Interior Wall Lip 99 Indeterminate PLASTIC TECHNIQUE (PLAS_TECH): 1 Incision 6 Punctated 11 Other 2 Appliqu 7 Finger Nail Incised 3 Modeling 8 Finger Nail Impressed 4 Excision 9 Text/Basket Impressed 5 Perforation 10 Combination (descr ibe in comments) PLASTIC TECHNIQUE LOCATION (PLAS_LOC): 1 Int. Wall 7 Lip 13 Shoulder 2 Ext. Wall 8 Int. Rim/Ext. Wall 14 3 Both Walls 9 Ext. Rim/Int. Wall 15 Other 4 Int. Rim 10 Handle 5 Ext. Rim 11 Multiple Locations 6 B oth Rims 12 Interior Wall Lip 99 Indeterminate INCISIONS (INSION): 1 Vertical Line 9 Cross Hatched 2 Horizontal Line 10 Cross Hatched, Zoned 3 Parallel, Vertical Lines 11 OTHER 4 Parallel, Vert. Lines w/added feature (describe in comments) 5 Curvilinear 12 Multiple

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386 6 Circle 29 None 7 Semicircles 8 Punctation 99 Indeterminate (Note: List all numbers that apply in ascending order. Describe the design(s) in comments and sketch if poss.) USE WARE EXTERIOR AND INTERIOR (USE_EXT, USE_INT) 1 Sooting 7 2 Scraping 8 3 Post production oxidation 9 None Observed 4 Staining/Residue Absorption 5 Pitting 6 Heavy Pitting SERIES/STYLE : 1 Hacienda Grande 11 Boca Chica 2 La Hueca 12 Esperanza 3 Cuevas 13 Saladoid 4 Cuevas/Monserrate 14 Elenan Ostionoid 5 Monseratte 15 Ostionan Ostionoid 6 Santa Elena 16 Chican Ostionoid 7 Cuevas/Ostiones Puro 17 UID Saladoid 8 Ostiones Puro 18 UID Ostionoid 9 Ostiones Modificado 19 Meillaca n Ostionoid 10 Capa 20 PalmettoWare 99 Indeterminate

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387 Vessel Lot # FS Location Level Thickness Width Length Diameter Vessel % Style Sherd Form Orientation Rim Lip Form Incisions Paint/Slip 1 43 Midden 1 9 39 54 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 01 01 07 29 99 2 43 Midden 1 12 47 38 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 01 07 02 29 99 3 43 Midden 1 0 0 0 18 6 Palmetto Ware 31 01 01 07 29 99 4 43 Midden 1 8 42 43 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 99 07 06 29 99 5 43 Midden 1 0 16 19 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 01 05 03 29 99 6 43 Midden 1 7 64 50 34 5 Palmetto Ware 31 05 03 02 29 99 7 43 Midden 1 10 55 46 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 01 01 03 29 99 8 43 Midden 1 11 69 40 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 02 01 07 29 99 9 43 Midden 1 11 41 30 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 08 01 08 29 99 10 43 Midden 1 34 0 10 0 4 Palmetto W are 31 01 08 07 29 99 11 43 Midden 1 0 25 0 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 01 01 07 29 99 12 43 Midden 1 0 0 25 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 01 13 03 29 99 13 43 Midden 1 0 0 34 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 01 07 03 29 99 14 43 Midden 1 0 0 32 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 06 03 05 29 9 9 15 43 Midden 1 0 23 0 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 01 04 02 29 99 16 46 Midden 2 9 45 28 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 01 01 05 29 99 17 46 Midden 2 10 79 62 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 01 01 07 29 99 18 46 Midden 2 12 51 32 32 5 Palmetto Ware 31 02 01 07 29 99 19 46 Midde n 2 18 72 27 60 5 Palmetto Ware 24 10 01 06 29 99 20 47 Midden 3 9 50 54 30 5 Meillacan 31 05 03 06 29 99 21 47 Midden 3 7 61 33 0 10 Meillacan 01 29 99 22 47 Midden 3 6 22 18 0 0 Meillacan 01 29 99 23 43 Midden 1 4 53 36 0 0 Meillacan 06 01 9 9 24 53 Midden 4 7 51 36 0 4 Meillacan 31 02 03 05 29 99 25 53 Midden 4 4 27 25 0 0 Meillacan 01 08 26 54 Midden 5 6 32 28 0 4 Meillacan 31 07 08 07 29 99 27 54 Midden 4 6 19 16 0 0 Meillacan 01 29 01 28 56 Midden 0 18 58 23 0 4 Palmetto Ware 2 4 29 99 29 38 Structure VI 1 0 59 26 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 05 04 01 29 99 30 38 Structure VI 1 0 32 20 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 01 04 07 29 99 31 38 Structure VI 1 0 28 24 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 06 06 08 29 99 32 39 Structure VI 2 6 79 39 26 8 Meillacan 31 05 01 08 29 99 33 39 Structure VI 2 0 39 16 22 6 Meillacan 31 01 01 07 29 99 34 38 Structure VI 1 4 28 8 0 0 Meillacan 01 29 99 35 39 Structure VI 1 6 49 41 0 0 Meillacan 01

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388 Vessel Lot # FS Location Level Thickness Width Length Diameter Vessel % Style Sherd Form Orientation Rim Lip Form Incisions Paint/Slip 36 38 Structure VI 1 0 18 22 0 0 Meillacan 31 01 07 05 01 99 37 39 Structure VI 2 13 50 4 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 05 09 07 29 99 38 39 Structure VI 2 0 28 28 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 01 01 08 29 99 39 39 Structure VI 2 0 33 19 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 01 08 07 29 99 40 39 Structure VI 2 0 21 12 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 01 01 07 29 99 41 39 Structure VI 2 7 20 15 0 0 Palmetto Ware 01 01 42 24 Structure IV 1 0 19 20 0 4 Meillacan 31 08 02 07 29 99 43 24 Structure IV 1 0 31 20 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 01 01 07 29 99 44 24 Structure IV 1 0 26 17 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 01 01 08 29 99 45 24 Structure IV 1 5 26 27 0 0 Meillacan 01 29 99 46 25 Structure IV 2 0 21 28 0 4 Meillacan 31 09 13 07 99 99 47 25 Structure IV 2 0 22 22 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 09 08 07 29 99 48 25 Structure IV 2 0 40 23 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 05 05 07 29 99 49 25 Structure IV 2 7 36 19 0 0 Meillacan 01 29 99 50 26 Structure IV 3 0 26 18 16 5 Meillacan 01 09 07 08 29 99 51 26 Stru cture IV 3 0 19 12 0 4 Meillacan 31 09 01 07 02 99 52 26 Structure IV 3 7 38 44 0 4 Meillacan 17 08 05 99 53 26 Structure IV 3 0 25 26 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 07 02 07 29 99 54 27 Structure IV 4 0 33 23 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 09 02 08 29 99 55 29 Structur e IV 1 0 21 15 0 4 Meillacan 31 03 01 07 29 99 56 29 Structure IV 1 0 26 23 0 4 Meillacan 31 07 08 57 29 Structure IV 1 0 31 55 0 4 Meillacan 01 58 29 Structure IV 1 0 49 46 0 4 Meillacan 01 59 29 Structure IV 1 17 59 39 0 4 Palmetto Ware 24 10 03 08 29 99 60 29 Structure IV 1 15 62 36 0 4 Palmetto Ware 24 10 03 08 29 99 61 30 Structure IV 2 11 44 39 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 05 01 07 29 99 62 29 Structure IV 1 12 24 32 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 05 07 07 29 99 63 30 Structure IV 2 13 53 34 0 4 Pa lmetto Ware 31 09 01 06 08 99 64 30 Structure IV 2 0 22 23 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 03 06 08 29 99 65 31 Structure IV 3 5 69 50 15 15 Meillacan 31 07 03 07 29 99 66 31 Structure IV 3 0 51 22 16 10 Meillacan 31 06 07 07 29 99 67 29 Structure IV 3 0 33 17 14 5 Meillacan 31 11 01 08 29 99 68 12 Structure II 5 10 44 60 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 05 14 08 29 99 69 9 Structure II 4 0 22 26 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 01 01 05 29 99 70 9 Structure II 1 0 23 19 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 03 01 07 29 99

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389 Vessel Lot # FS Location Le vel Thickness Width Length Diameter Vessel % Style Sherd Form Orientation Rim Lip Form Incisions Paint/Slip 71 9 Structure II 1 0 38 22 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 01 01 07 29 99 72 9 Structure II 1 0 16 22 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 01 01 08 29 99 73 9 Structure II 1 0 38 22 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 01 01 03 29 99 74 9 Structure II 1 14 41 36 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 01 03 07 29 99 75 9 Structure II 1 0 26 21 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 01 01 05 29 99 76 9 Structure II 1 0 7 19 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 01 08 07 29 99 77 9 Structur e II 1 9 27 35 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 01 01 02 29 99 78 9 Structure II 1 0 31 20 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 01 03 01 29 99 79 9 Structure II 1 0 31 25 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 03 06 07 29 99 80 9 Structure II 1 0 29 26 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 06 14 08 29 99 81 9 Stru cture II 1 0 26 24 0 4 Palmetto Ware 31 03 05 07 29 99 82 10 Structure II 4 0 50 18 26 5 Palmetto Ware 31 03 04 05 29 99 83 10 Structure II 4 0 38 26 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 05 04 07 29 99 84 10 Structure II 4 0 7 15 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 01 03 05 29 99 85 10 Structure II 4 8 54 49 34 5 Palmetto Ware 31 01 03 08 29 99 86 10 Structure II 4 0 31 20 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 01 01 05 29 99 87 10 Structure II 4 0 53 14 34 5 Palmetto Ware 31 06 14 07 29 99 88 10 Structure II 4 0 20 30 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 03 04 01 29 99 89 10 Structure II 4 0 29 26 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 03 02 05 29 99 90 10 Structure II 4 0 31 27 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 01 03 01 29 99 91 12 Structure II 5 0 26 26 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 05 14 07 29 99 92 12 Structure II 5 0 52 17 28 6 Palmetto Ware 31 07 14 02 29 99 93 12 Structure II 5 0 10 0 0 0 06 94 12 Structure II 5 0 37 21 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 06 01 07 29 99 95 12 Structure II 5 0 70 20 44 5 Palmetto Ware 31 07 01 08 29 99 96 12 Structure II 5 0 28 22 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 07 01 07 29 99 97 12 Structure II 5 0 37 29 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 07 05 08 29 99 98 12 Structure II 5 0 35 25 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 07 03 05 29 99 99 19 Structure II 7 6 42 14 0 0 Meillacan 31 09 07 29 99 100 12 Structure II 12 0 27 21 0 0 01 101 10 Structure II 4 0 24 22 0 0 Meillacan 31 11 07 01 01 99 102 10 Structure II 4 0 33 29 0 0 Meillacan 31 07 01 05 29 99 103 12 Structure II 5 0 26 15 0 0 Meillacan 01 02 104 12 Structure II 5 5 67 39 0 0 Carrier/Chicoid 01 11 99 105 2 Structure II 1 6 37 36 22 5 Meillacan 31 05 13 01 29 99

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390 Vessel Lot # FS Location Level Thickness Width Length Diameter Vessel % Style Sherd Form Orientation Rim Lip Form Incisions Paint/Slip 106 2 Structure II 1 5 35 34 4 25 Meillacan 31 06 01 08 29 99 107 2 Structure II 1 10 43 51 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 01 06 06 29 99 108 2 Structure II 1 11 37 37 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 02 06 07 29 99 109 2 Structure II 1 0 26 19 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 01 07 06 29 99 110 2 Structure II 1 0 16 12 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 02 08 07 29 99 111 7 Structu re II 2 0 31 27 0 0 Meillacan 31 01 05 01 29 99 112 7 Structure II 2 0 38 19 0 0 Meillacan 31 02 07 08 29 99 113 7 Structure II 2 0 22 25 0 0 Meillacan 31 01 01 08 29 99 114 7 Structure II 2 11 33 31 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 02 01 07 29 99 115 7 Structure II 2 10 32 35 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 03 06 07 29 99 116 7 Structure II 2 0 26 21 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 01 01 07 29 99 117 7 Structure II 2 0 27 24 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 02 01 07 29 99 118 7 Structure II 2 0 25 20 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 01 01 07 29 99 119 7 S tructure II 2 0 29 21 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 01 01 08 29 99 120 7 Structure II 2 0 25 19 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 01 06 06 29 99 121 7 Structure II 2 0 22 14 5 14 Palmetto Ware 31 06 01 07 29 99 122 7 Structure II 2 18 60 38 0 0 Palmetto Ware 24 123 1 S tructure II 1 0 25 14 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 01 29 07 99 99 124 1 Structure II 1 0 30 20 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 01 13 08 29 99 125 1 Structure II 1 0 21 27 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 01 01 07 29 99 126 1 Structure II 1 10 28 39 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 07 04 06 29 99 127 1 Structure II 1 0 37 23 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 07 01 07 29 99 128 1 Structure II 1 0 39 22 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 06 01 07 29 99 129 1 Structure II 1 0 21 21 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 07 01 07 29 99 130 1 Structure II 1 0 18 25 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 01 13 07 29 99 131 1 Structure II 1 0 31 29 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 08 14 01 29 99 132 1 Structure II 1 0 24 18 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 07 05 08 29 99 133 1 Structure II 1 0 37 17 0 0 Meillacan 31 07 03 06 29 99 134 1 Structure II 1 0 28 22 0 0 Meillacan 31 03 01 06 29 99 135 6 Structure II 1 0 33 24 0 0 Meillacan 31 01 04 08 29 99 136 6 Structure II 1 0 20 17 0 0 Meillacan 31 07 01 07 29 99 137 6 Structure II 1 0 25 25 0 0 Meillacan 31 08 01 08 29 99 138 6 Structure II 1 0 31 21 0 0 Meillacan 01 128 139 6 Structure II 1 0 25 12 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 01 13 08 29 99 140 6 Structure II 1 0 46 27 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 06 01 08 29 99

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391 Vessel Lot # FS Location Level Thickness Width Length Diameter Vessel % Style Sherd Form Orientation Rim Lip Form Incisions Paint /Slip 141 6 Structure II 1 0 44 20 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 06 04 07 29 99 142 3 Structure II 1 5 25 31 0 0 Meillacan 31 11 01 08 08 99 143 3 Structure II 1 0 26 13 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 01 01 08 99 99 144 11 Structure II 1 6 58 38 0 0 Meillacan 01 29 99 145 11 Structure II 1 4 31 29 0 0 Meillacan 01 29 99 146 11 Structure II 1 0 25 14 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 01 14 08 01 99 147 11 Structure II 1 0 17 20 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 03 01 07 29 99 148 11 Structure II 1 0 26 15 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 03 01 07 29 99 149 11 Structure II 1 0 23 14 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 01 01 08 29 99 150 11 Structure II 1 0 28 15 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 01 01 07 29 99 151 11 Structure II 1 0 20 12 0 0 Palmetto Ware 31 01 01 06 29 99

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392 Vessel lot # Firing Comments 1 Reduced core wit h post firing oxidation soot outside 2 Completely oxidized >23 cm diameter, boat vessel unlikely 3 Reduced core with post firing oxidation lip form is irregular, part is slightly lt beveled out. 5 pieces total are mostly as described. One herd is heavily sooted on outside 4 Reduced core, reduced inside rim heavily worn, unable to determine orientation or vessel diameter 5 Completely oxidized two small fragments of rim 6 Reduced core with post firing oxidation outside heavily worn, seems that layer has fallen off 7 Reduced core with post firing oxidation boat vessel, most likely 8 Completely oxidized rim very irregular, possible boat vessel. Slight inclining angle 1 cm below rim, hinting at holding for liquid 9 completely reduced possible boat vessel. Interior is worn, while exterior is not. Processing of materials inside without fire? 10 Completely oxidized heavily oxidized, flat platform as rim 11 Reduced core with post firing oxidation 12 Reduced core with post firing oxidation outfolded rim is attached to vessel 13 Reduced core with post firing oxidation an angle in orientation might start at 21 mm below rim 14 Reduced core, reduced inside wear on inside, more than outside. Form is extraordinary 15 completely reduced thickening on inside is r eal small. Inside is worn, while outside does not show any wear. Stripes on outside show evidence of 'brushing'. Two smaller sherd are in this vessellot because they looked most like it, and couldn't be lot by themselves 16 Reduced core with post firing o xidation thickness at lowest part. Boat vessel 17 Reduced core with post firing oxidation boat vessel 18 Completely oxidized two pieces, one piece has ridge on inside at 12 mm under rim. However, cannot determine two different lots. 19 Completely oxidiz ed diameter > 50cm, description of lipform as top part is 'inside' of pot. Bottom shows grass impression, top smooth 20 Completely oxidized slight oxidation on outside 21 Reduced core with post firing oxidation outer diameter (not orifice) would be 14 cm max. small serving bowl 22 Reduced core with post firing oxidation outside is yellow white in color. Resembles waterjar seen in jamaican sample 23 Reduced core with post firing oxidation round form, could be base of vessel 24 Completely oxidized diamet er approximately 28 cm. soot outside. Almost completely oxidized, inside slightly reduced 25 Reduced core with post firing oxidation vessel lot is determined by firing characteristics, but mainly on ((mending?) hole. Also, the inside shows brushing in a r adiating fashion, which might hint at boatvessel. 26 completely reduced serving plate, more than 20 cm in size 27 Reduced core with oxidized exterior vessel lot determined by presence of slip, outside shows signs of brushing

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393 Vessel lot # Firing Comments (rapid cooling) 28 Completel y oxidized wallclean @ close, diameter is large (over 50 cm), basketry impressions on bottom, top smooth 29 Completely oxidized Diameter >30 cm 30 Completely oxidized fillet rim like meillacan wares 31 Reduced core with post firing oxidation boatvessel 32 completely reduced overall black color, but some lighter (oxidized spotts), little thicker where vessel bends from convex out to convex vertical. Burnished outside 33 Completely oxidized oxidation is light, still has a darker color to it 34 vessel l ot based on paste and thickness. Light colored, thin and light of weigt. Waterbottle or alcohol container? 35 Reduced core with post firing oxidation vessellot based on paste, thickness and color 36 Reduced core with post firing oxidation two parallel li nes to rim, made when vessel was wet (typical meillacan) 37 Reduced core with post firing oxidation boatvessel is likely, rim is not really regular, rim form is mix between flat in platformed and folded. The inside seems to be folded, but the lip is very flat 38 Completely oxidized 39 Completely oxidized flatt in or out difficult to determine. Definitely different vessel based on paste, thickness and color 40 Reduced core with post firing oxidation small, but rim good defined. Smaller(thinner) than ves sel lot 39 41 Completely oxidized vessel lot determined on presence of slip on one side of sherd. Not precise ib out or inside. Small fragment 42 completely reduced plate (serving) 43 Completely oxidized 44 Completely oxidized 45 Completely oxidize d vessel lot defined on paste, whiter color, coarser (up to 1.5 mm), possible water one side (outside?) seems to be rougher. 46 completely reduced fillet rim typical of meillacan small though 47 Completely oxidized plate 48 Reduced core with oxidized ex terior (rapid cooling) rim is very irregular and shapes are difficult to define. Not a plate though 49 Reduced core with oxidized exterior (rapid cooling) outside crme colored (very light) and only thin layer is oxidized. Paste has a lot of quartz in it. Vessel lot determined by paste and color 50 completely reduced very flat/shallow, no extra elevation to hold food on platter 51 Reduced core with oxidized exterior (rapid cooling) deeper plate and two horizontal incision on outside just underneath the r im 52 Completely oxidized fish/frog motive. Lines are made when clay is wet. Looks like lug/handle on outside of vessel, but piece too small

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394 Vessel lot # Firing Comments 53 Completely oxidized wear on inside, open vessel 54 Reduced core with oxidized exterior (rapid cooling) plate with little lip standing up, buttowards bottom thick 55 completely reduced one body sherd, possibly part of this vessel lot, had reed punctuation on outside 56 ORIENTATION UNKNOWN. Rim seems to be thinned. Real small part of rim is present, but there is decoration. Two pieces of clay applique in a v shape with incisions in the middle is located just below the rim with point upwards. 57 Reduced core with oxidized exterior (rapid cooling) surface is red from oxidation. Vessel lot determined based on this characteristic. 58 Completely oxidized outside of vessel is crme colored, inside is grey. Core is oxidized. Three pieces have this characteristic. Vessel lot is determined on this characteristic 59 Completely oxidized large diameter. Smooth top, rough b ottom. 4 body pieces of a griddle in this level have basketry impression and likely belong to same vessel. 60 Completely oxidized large diameter. Is different vessel lot than VL#59 because of thickness and top of vessel is smoother than previous lot. Also temper is denser in this sample. Light indications of basketry on bottom 61 Completely oxidized this is either a boat vessel or it is larger than 50 cm in diameter 62 Completely oxidized orientation difficult to determine, small part of rim. Also, insi de in completely flat and does touch table completely when place outside up. The thickining and uneven surface outside does not suggest that this is a plate though. 63 Completely oxidized three reed punctuations in rim, plate is very large (definitely mor e than 30 cm in diameter 64 Completely oxidized light ridge just below rim on outside (not present in ny other sherd in this unit). Also much flatter on top than other sherds. 65 completely reduced soot on outside! Still reduced. Outside and inside burni shed. 66 Reduced core with oxidized exterior (rapid cooling) slight convex in, almost straight. Light brown color after oxidation of the outside 67 Reduced core with post firing oxidation jar with relative large diameter. Completely burnished outside and inside, excellent to hold liquids. Outside is brown in color, while inside is reddisher. On edge one really smooth spot, black in color. 68 Completely oxidized fillet rim 69 Completely oxidized 70 Completely oxidized 71 Reduced core with oxidized ex terior (rapid cooling) 72 Completely oxidized 73 Completely oxidized

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395 Vessel lot # Firing Comments 74 Reduced core with oxidized exterior (rapid cooling) 75 Completely oxidized 76 Reduced core with oxidized exterior (rapid cooling) 77 Reduced core with oxidized exterior (ra pid cooling) 78 Reduced core with oxidized exterior (rapid cooling) 79 Reduced core with post firing oxidation 80 Completely oxidized 81 Completely oxidized 82 Reduced core with oxidized exterior (rapid cooling) 83 Reduced core with oxidized ex terior (rapid cooling) boat vessel. Rim looks in orientation, lip form and rim like one vessel lot from previous level, but that sherd is heavily eroded while this sherd is in much better shape. 84 Completely oxidized 85 Reduced core with post firing ox idation fillet rim, like meillacan vessels 86 Completely oxidized 87 Completely oxidized same as vessel lot 85, but infolded rim is different 88 Reduced core with post firing oxidation complex form of rim. From bottom, sherd is convex vertical and top 1 cm is straight out. At point of angle, sherd is a little thicker. 89 Reduced core with oxidized exterior (rapid cooling) 90 Completely oxidized 91 Completely oxidized 92 Completely oxidized 93 water or beer jar 94 Reduced core, reduced outside 95 Reduced core with post firing oxidation 96 Reduced core with post firing oxidation could also be plate, piece too small to see vessel form 97 Completely oxidized 98 Reduced core with oxidized exterior (rapid cooling) 99 completely reduced plat e with a rim that stands up for approximately 1 cm. the angle is approximately 85 degrees. There are non rim pieces of meillac with multiple lines incised and punctuation, and these could

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396 Vessel lot # Firing Comments be part of one vessel. 100 water jar, 101 Completely oxidized red with grey core. Sherd is well oxidized and this depends on the oxigen available 102 smothered outside, rough inside. 103 white paint, vessel lot determined by presence of white paint 104 Completely oxidized water jar 105 Completely oxidized fillet r im, boat vessel, reddish of color, maybe from meillac/ fort liberte region 106 Completely oxidized jar/spout. Lots of curvature, paste looks grey, no obvious signs of pitting. Two large body piece of a water jar were also found in this layer. 107 Reduced core with oxidized exterior (rapid cooling) 108 Reduced core with oxidized exterior (rapid cooling) almost looks like buren (thickness, edge) but the paste is not oxidized what you would expect with buren 109 completely reduced some surface indications of oxidization, but none in core 110 Completely oxidized small but good quality piece for palmettoware 111 Reduced core, reduced outside slight oxidization. Angular thickening like filletrim, but smoothened so you cannot see the actual fold anymore. 11 2 Reduced core with oxidized exterior (rapid cooling) 113 Reduced core with oxidized exterior (rapid cooling) thin oxidized layer on outside 114 Completely oxidized 115 Reduced core with post firing oxidation 116 Completely oxidized really fine palm etto ware, no large shell inclusion, smooth outside 117 Reduced core with oxidized exterior (rapid cooling) 118 Reduced core with oxidized exterior (rapid cooling) very similar to 117, but different paste 119 Reduced core with oxidized exterior (rapid cooling) 120 Completely oxidized 121 Completely oxidized small container, oxidized so maybe liquids? Palmetto 122 griddle 123 Reduced core with oxidized exterior (rapid cooling) 124 Completely oxidized

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397 Vessel lot # Firing Comments 125 Reduced core with post firing oxidation 126 Completely oxidized 127 Completely oxidized 128 Reduced core with oxidized exterior (rapid cooling) boat vessel? 129 Completely oxidized 130 Completely oxidized 131 Completely oxidized fillet rim 132 Completely oxidized 133 completely re duced 134 completely reduced 135 completely reduced 136 completely reduced 137 Reduced core, reduced inside OUTSIDE OXIDIZED 138 completely reduced BASED ON THICKNESS (7MM) AND INCISIONS 139 Completely oxidized 140 Completely oxidized 141 Red uced core with oxidized exterior (rapid cooling) 142 completely reduced top is convex out, but to 16 mm under rim it is convex in. Not jar, but this 143 Completely oxidized 144 completely reduced vessel lot based on paste 145 Reduced core with oxidiz ed exterior (rapid cooling) 146 Completely oxidized 147 Reduced core, reduced inside 148 Completely oxidized different from vs# 147 based on paste 149 Completely oxidized 150 Completely oxidized 151 Completely oxidized

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398 APPENDIX H CORAL ID FS# Species Count Weight Tool Remarks 1 1 Elk Coral 1 20 No obvious wear, only broken fragments 2 1 Star Coral 22 173 6 6 obvious tools, rest are too small fragments. Some angled wear 3 1 Brain Coral 11 54 1 Rasp or abraider, 1 burned 4 1 UID 3 27 very worn 5 2 Brain Coral 5 350 1 1 obvious tool, one large piece with variable wear 6 2 Star Coral 5 60 3 3 tools, some angled wear 7 2 Staghorn Coral 1 22 1 Abraider/Rasp 8 3 Star Coral 11 36 2 2 tools, all small fragments 9 3 Staghorn Coral 1 14 1 1 too l, abraider/rasp 10 6 Star Coral 22 639 1 1 large 577 gr rasp, rest fragments 11 6 Brain Coral 7 35 1 1 obvious tool 12 6 Staghorn Coral 1 7 1 abraider/rasp 13 7 Staghorn Coral 1 62 worn 14 7 Star Coral 35 175 15 7 Brain Coral 12 35 1 1 tool, res t fragments 16 11 Brain Coral 4 27 1 1 obvious tool 17 11 Star Coral 11 36 2 2 tools 18 10 Star Coral 21 106 19 10 UID 2 14 20 12 Staghorn Coral 1 4 1 1 tool, abraider/rasp 21 12 Star Coral 6 61 1 22 4 Star Coral 19 80 3 3 tools 23 4 Brain C oral 16 58 2 2 tools 24 41 Star Coral 2 8 fragments 25 9 Star Coral 10 268 5 5 tools 26 9 Brain Coral 5 17 1 1 tool 27 38 Star Coral 13 32 3 3 tools, fragments, all are debitage 28 43 Star Coral 37 279 8 8+ tools, but basically all could be 29 43 Br ain Coral 3 60 0 tools 30 43 Staghorn Coral 2 89 2 2, 1 very worn 31 13 Brain Coral 1 10 32 13 Star Coral 5 52 33 47 Brain Coral 4 31 34 19 Brain Coral 4 6 35 16 Star Coral 1 1

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399 ID FS# Species Count Weight Tool Remarks 36 29 Star Cor al 39 72 1 1 large piece, rest fragments 37 29 Brain Coral 13 77 38 29 Staghorn Coral 2 50 39 32 Star Coral 1 1 small fragment 40 53 UID 1 0 41 56 Star Coral 1 1 42 55 Star Coral 2 12 1 1 tool 43 39 Brain Coral 2 8 44 39 Star Coral 15 62 1 1 45 46 Staghorn Coral 2 6 2 small pieces 46 46 Star Coral 5 80 1 1, pieces mend into one tool 47 25 Star Coral 10 28 48 25 Brain Coral 5 35 2 2 tools, both may mend into one 49 30 Star Coral 5 24 50 30 Brain Coral 9 29 1 1 51 31 Stag horn Coral 1 16 not much wear 52 31 Brain Coral 2 2 53 41 Star Coral 4 57 1 large piece 54 22 Brain Coral 1 23 no visual wear 55 24 Brain Coral 18 12 small fragments 56 24 Star Coral 14 19 57 20 Brain Coral 1 1 fragments 58 27 Brain Coral 4 10 all fragments 59 27 Star Coral 3 57 2 2 are flat, so tools 60 26 Brain Coral 9 33 fragments 61 26 Star Coral 7 16 62 14 Star Coral 1 7 fragment

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400 APPENDIX I SHELL I D F S Unit Location Level Species MNI NISP Tool Comments 1 41 N6E6 Structur e VI 3 Strombus gigas 0 9 debitage, one specimen is long and thin. 5 burned, same piece probably strombus sp 2 41 N6E6 Structure VI 3 Transenella sp 0 1 Maybe transenella stimpson, which has a more colorful variation in the bahamas. Maybe used for decorat ive units. Maybe found while hunting for strombus one right 3 41 N6E6 Structure VI 3 Codakia orbicularis 0 3 2 fragments, one edge of the shell almost to the hinge, end edge is possible flaked off 4 41 N6E6 Structure VI 3 UID 0 3 fragments debitage 5 4 1 N6E6 Structure VI 3 0 1 debitage fragments 6 39 N6E6 Structure VI 2 Strombus gigas 1 42 6 needles, two are from column (sturdier), four from outside with 2 sharp point at end. 7 base of column pieces, one is of outer whorl. Maybe woodworking? 5 burned. 4 nodules little compared to sample). 7 39 N6E6 Structure VI 2 Codakia orbicularis 0 11 4 edges, no formal tools though. End edge seems to be in tact. no hinges 8 39 N6E6 Structure VI 3 Oliva reticularis 1 1 bead most likely caribaeensis, chris is sure 9 39 N6E6 Structure VI 2 Cittarium pica 0 2 receptacle, scoop/shapers receptacle stands straigt on table, cuts are parallel 10 39 N6E6 Structure VI 2 UID 0 1 no formal tool inflated, robust, no hinge, some interior sculpting, other worn (chama looking) I t is not one of the ID's from O'day 2002. 11 39 N6E6 Structure VI 2 Diplodonta spp 0 4 small fragments, no formal tools shinny on inside 12 39 N6E6 Structure VI 2 Tellin sp. 0 1 no formal tool 13 39 N6E6 Structure VI 2 Tellina listeri 0 2 no formal too l 14 39 N6E6 Structure VI 2 UID 0 3 shiny oysters probably oysters, 2 are more 'pearly' of color, two small pieces are white and shiny 15 39 N6E6 Structure VI 2 UID 0 56 debitage 24 probably conch (14 g)

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401 ID FS Unit Location Level Species MNI NISP Too l Comments 16 38 N6E6 Structure VI 1 Strombus gigas 0 23 debitage 17 38 N6E6 Structure VI 1 Cittarium pica 0 1 part of column 18 38 N6E6 Structure VI 1 Cittarium pica 0 3 cf. Not sure if it was pica 19 38 N6E6 Structure VI 1 Bivalve 0 11 20 38 N6 E6 Structure VI 1 Tellina listeri 0 4 debitage 21 38 N6E6 Structure VI 1 Donax Denticulada 0 1 22 38 N6E6 Structure VI 1 Codakia orbicularis 0 12 no obvious wear. small frags. L lgr frag, but no apparent cultural modifications. 23 38 N6E6 Structure V I 1 strombus sp. 0 1 v. nacreous frag. ID'd by BK 24 38 N6E6 Structure VI 1 Bivalve 0 3 worn frags 25 38 N6E6 Structure VI 1 Coral 0 2 not apparent Two frags of brain coral 26 56 N7E7 Midden 0 Strombus sp. 0 4 no formal tools. 1 nodule, worn (it looks like an eye). 3 jagged whorl pc. 27 56 N7E7 Midden 0 Codakia orbicularis 0 3 no Includes lg frag of edge, no wear 28 56 N7E7 Midden 0 Tellina radiata 0 1 No apparent wear 1r hinge. Exterior almost looks flaked off. 29 56 N7E7 Midden 0 gastropod 0 1 n/a small frag, looks like Astrea. 30 56 N7E7 Midden 0 Bivalve 2 n/a nacreous, golden. 31 55 N7E7 Midden 6 Chione sp. 0 1 n/a 1r hinge. oddly cut. Small. 32 55 N7E7 Midden 6 Strombus sp. 0 3 1 pc. of outer shell, near nodules; 2 frags 33 55 N7E7 Midden 6 Pinctada radiata 0 5 n/a small frags, with concentric lines. Pink ad gold. 34 55 N7E7 Midden 6 Asaphis deflorata 1 n/a Exterior almost completely worn off. 35 5 N7E7 Midden 6 Tellina sp. 0 1 n/a small fragment with thick parrallel lines 36 54 N7E7 Mi dden 5 Cittarium pica 1 4 debitage, removed part outer whorl in a v shaped cut, aperture is intact 37 54 N7E7 Midden 5 Strombus gigas 0 6 debitage one piece exposed to heat

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402 ID FS Unit Location Level Species MNI NISP Tool Comments 38 54 N7E7 Midden 5 Codakia orbicularis 0 2 scraper, very rounded edge 39 54 N7E7 Midden 5 Bivalve 0 4 debitage 40 54 N7E7 Midden 5 gastropod 0 3 debitage 41 53 N7E7 Midden 4 Strombus gigas 45 1 hammer (base), 1 discoid spacer/planer, 4 rounded "hooks" No spires, no sy pthons. At least 2 pc burn. All very fragmentary, except hammer. 42 53 N7E7 Midden 4 Codakia orbicularis 0 10 One with uneven edge break, no wear (expedient tool) 43 53 N7E7 Midden 4 Tellina listeri 0 6 all very fragmentary 44 54 N7E7 Midden 4 Tellini dae 0 2 Small fragments, thing shell, nacreous, slight curve. 45 53 N7E7 Midden 4 Pinctada radiata 0 2 Shiny, pinkish and gold. Fragments. 46 53 N7E7 Midden 4 UID 51 very small frags. 47 48 53 N7E7 Midden 4 Cittarium pica 1 small fragmen t 49 47 N7E7 Midden 3 Chione cancelata 0 1 1R 50 47 N7E7 Midden 3 Slipper shell 1 n/a Small slipper shell 51 47 N7E7 Midden 3 Cittarium pica 6 2 burned, exposed to heat 52 47 N7E7 Midden 3 Strombus gigas 1 33 2 hoes, 1 needle, 1 rounded hook Larger fragments, incl. one apex (v. worn). 5 pcs that look like column removal debitage. 53 47 N7E7 Midden 3 Tellina listeri 0 2 fragements with groove 54 47 N7E7 Midden 3 Codakia orbicularis 1 4 1 pc with some edge wear, but not formal tool 1L, small frag 55 47 N7E7 Midden 3 Tellinidae 0 3 small frags, thin with lines 56 47 N7E7 Midden 3 UID 3 small fragments 57 46 N7E7 Midden 2 Pinctada radiata 0 2 shell inlay, circle for eye

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403 I D F S Unit Location Level Species MNI NISP Tool Comments 58 46 N7E7 Mi dden 2 Pinctada radiata 0 9 small flakes, one big piece. Probably production location (or debris location of manufacture) of radiata ornaments 59 46 N7E7 Midden 2 Strombus gigas 0 13 two nodule, 2 c shaped tools/fragments 60 46 N7E7 Midden 2 Chione sp. 0 1 edible/ by catch for hunting strombus 61 46 N7E7 Midden 2 Chitonidae 0 1 Chiton 62 46 N7E7 Midden 2 Codakia orbicularis 1 9 1 left, serated on lateral side, length is 79 mm, width 84 mm could be used for cutting fiber 63 46 N7E7 Midden 2 Tellina listeri 0 12 fragmentary 64 46 N7E7 Midden 2 UID 0 25 65 46 N7E7 Midden 2 Brachidontes exutus 0 1 shiny, purple yellow when fresh right unit 66 43 N7E7 Midden 1 Anomalocardia brasiliana 0 1 small fragment, Chris is sure but photos in book don't matc h 67 43 N7E7 Midden 1 UID 0 1 cf. great tellin, shiny exterior, large, growth lines only at margin 68 43 N7E7 Midden 1 Tellina listeri 1 15 one left, one right that both fit, so likely was brought to site as complete unit 69 43 N7E7 Midden 1 Brachidon tes exutus 0 1 missing hinge, left 70 43 N7E7 Midden 1 Strombus gigas 0 80 one hoe, three tips one with obvious wear, two needle, one spacer for weaving/netmaking/basketry making?, 5 c shaped tools, 8 obviously fired 71 43 N7E7 Midden 1 Codakia orbicula ris 1 25 three lateral edges (long units broken off from the edge of the cutting edge) one right 72 43 N7E7 Midden 1 Pinctada radiata 0 3 one big pieces, two smaller fragments 73 43 N7E7 Midden 1 Cittarium pica 0 5 fragments. One part would be perfect c ut out for larger tools that we found in N6E6? With V shaped cut 74 43 N7E7 Midden 1 Chitonidae 0 1 75 43 N7E7 Midden 1 Chama sarda 0 2

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404 I D F S Unit Location Level Species MNI NISP Tool Comments 76 43 N7E7 Midden 1 Lucina pectinada 0 1 77 43 N7 E7 Midden 1 Bivalve 0 3 probably luccinae 78 43 N7E7 Midden 1 Tellina sp. 0 5 fragments 79 43 N7E7 Midden 1 UID 0 43 fragments 80 38 N6E6 Structure VI 1 Strombus gigas 0 2 shell inlay, teeth 81 29 N4E2 Structure IV 1 Chama macerophylla 0 1 small fr agment, bead production 82 29 N4E2 Structure IV 1 Crepidula plana 1 1 intertidal (but we don't have nerites in site) 83 29 N4E2 Structure IV 1 Oliva reticularis 1 1 bead 84 29 N4E2 Structure IV 1 Strombus gigas 43 one huge lip; colum extracted. 2 ti ps both with wear, 1 massive c shaped unit, one nodule, one hoe, small and large debitage 85 29 N4E2 Structure IV 1 Codakia orbicularis 1 14 fragmentary, no formal tools/wear one left, one right, do NOT match 86 29 N4E2 Structure IV 1 Tellina listeri 1 9 no formal tools, fragmentary two hinge 87 29 N4E2 Structure IV 1 Pinctada radiata 0 8 fragmentary one piece is larger 88 29 N4E2 Structure IV 1 Cittarium pica 0 8 very small fragments 89 29 N4E2 Structure IV 1 UID 0 35 90 30 N4E2 Structure IV 2 St rombus gigas 1 34 hammer (very worn), one tip, mostly fragments,without specific tools, one maybe hoe 91 30 N4E2 Structure IV 2 Codakia orbicularis 0 20 one edge with pink color, outside is abraded from it; no formal tools 92 30 N4E2 Structure IV 2 Pin ctada radiata 0 7 no tools, debitage 93 30 N4E2 Structure IV 2 Cittarium pica 0 2 fragments 94 30 N4E2 Structure IV 2 Bivalve 0 1 fragment cf lucina 95 30 N4E2 Structure IV 2 Tellina sp. 0 2 fragments 96 30 N4E2 Structure IV 2 UID 0 12 fragments 9 7 31 N4E2 Structure IV 3 Anomalocardia brasiliana 1 1 right

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405 ID FS Unit Location Level Species MNI NISP Tool Comments 98 31 N4E2 Structure IV 3 Strombus gigas 0 12 one nodule 99 31 N4E2 Structure IV 3 Codakia orbicularis 0 5 no formal tools, one has maybe edges on lateral side 100 31 N4E2 Structure IV 3 Tellina listeri 0 1 101 31 N4E2 Structure IV 3 UID 0 18 102 32 N4E2 Structure IV 4 Strombus gigas 0 1 hoe fragment 103 22 N4E2 Structure IV Strombus gigas 0 2 one burned, other is c shaped t ool/debitage wall clean 104 24 N3E2 Structure IV 1 oliva sp. 0 1 bead? one half of the oliva 105 24 N3E2 Structure IV 1 Codakia orbicularis 0 1 no formal tool 106 24 N3E2 Structure IV 1 Strombus gigas 0 13 one needle, one large c shaped, one siphonal c anal which is burned 107 24 N3E2 Structure IV 1 Tellina sp. 0 3 fragments 108 24 N3E2 Structure IV 1 UID 0 13 109 4 N1E1 Structure II 2 Codakia orbicularis 0 6 no formal tool, but one valve almost complete and edge is broken off 110 4 N1E1 Structu re II 2 Tellina listeri 0 6 no formal tools one piece was beach wash with concreted sand inside 111 4 N1E1 Structure II 2 Chiton 0 1 112 4 N1E1 Structure II 2 Nerita sp. 0 2 113 4 N1E1 Structure II 2 Strombus gigas 1 57 six tips of which one is a pi ck, other has a flat surface, one c shaped, one top lightly weathered/used, two big pieces have at least column extracted we got at least 6 canals, so MNI most likely to be much higher 114 2 N2E0 Structure II 1 Codakia orbicularis 0 7 one left hinge 115 2 N2E0 Structure II 1 Tellina listeri 0 2 116 2 N2E0 Structure II 1 Pinctada radiata 0 1 117 2 N2E0 Structure II 1 Anomalocardia brasiliana 0 1 one left 118 2 N2E0 Structure II 1 Cittarium pica 0 2

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406 ID FS Unit Location Level Species MNI NISP T ool Comments 119 2 N2E0 Structure II 1 Strombus gigas 1 25 one lip (hoe), one top, lightly battered, one needle, one vertical piece of the lip that has a little wear on one outside end, not sure of its use 120 2 N2E0 Structure II 1 UID 0 8 fragments 1 21 2 N2E0 Structure II 1 Cardiidae sp 0 1 bycatch 122 2 N2E0 Structure II 1 Veneridae sp 0 1 one right 123 2 N2E0 Structure II 1 Latirus sp 1 1 rocky intertidal (like chiton) 124 2 N2E0 Structure II 1 Tegula sp. 1 1 rocky intertidal 125 26 N3E2 Str ucture IV 3 Fasciolaria tulipa 1 1 no other parts of shell in sample, siphonal canal 126 26 N3E2 Structure IV 3 Charonia variegata 1 1 end tip of siphonal canal 127 26 N3E2 Structure IV 3 Codakia orbicularis 0 3 fragments, no formal tools 128 26 N3E2 Structure IV 3 Strombus gigas 0 37 one pick, 2 needles, one colum used as picks 129 26 N3E2 Structure IV 3 UID 0 13 130 11 N2E1 Structure II 1 Strombus gigas 0 6 one c shape, two colums that night be picks, one needle 131 11 N2E1 Structure II 1 Tel lina listeri 0 2 no formal tool 132 11 N2E1 Structure II 1 Codakia orbicularis 0 1 no formal tool 133 6 N1E2 Structure II 2 chiton sp. 0 1 no formal tool large, 28.45 mm wide 134 6 N1E0 Structure II 2 Strombus gigas 0 47 one hoe, two large c shaped, o ne needle, one remnant of hoe? Two nodules, Rest debitage some were burned 135 6 N1E0 Structure II 2 Codakia orbicularis 1 19 one edge, no tool use clearly visible all incredibly robust, mature big codakias 136 6 N1E0 Structure II 2 Veneridae sp 0 1 bea ch wash, filled with sediment inside and concretion outside 137 6 N1E0 Structure II 2 Nerita versicolor 1 1 food 138 6 N1E0 Structure II 2 Pinctada radiata 0 3 139 6 N1E0 Structure II 2 Cittarium pica 0 3 140 6 N1E0 Structure II 2 Tellina listeri 1 5 very fragmentary

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407 ID FS Unit Location Level Species MNI NISP Tool Comments 141 6 N1E0 Structure II 2 UID 0 26 142 3 N3E0 Structure II 1 Strombus gigas 1 14 one piece prob fire exposed, one pick, one c shaped 143 3 N3E0 Structure II 1 Codakia or bicularis 0 4 one left 144 3 N3E0 Structure II 1 Chione sp. 0 1 one left, broken 145 3 N3E0 Structure II 1 Pinctada radiata 0 1 small fragment 146 25 N3E2 Structure IV 2 Pinctada radiata 0 5 small fragments, very shiny 147 25 N3E2 Structure IV 2 Co dakia orbicularis 1 7 one large shell without edge, exhausted scraper? very large and robust codakia 148 25 N3E2 Structure IV 2 Strombus gigas 0 13 one preform for hoe? Rest debitage 149 25 N3E2 Structure IV 2 Charonia variegata 0 1 ID identified by O' Day's 2002 list, not 100% sure 150 25 N3E2 Structure IV 2 Pinctada radiata 0 5 shiny as radiata, pieces are small though 151 25 N3E2 Structure IV 2 UID 0 13 fragments 152 7 N2E0 Structure II 2 Strombus gigas 0 55 one nodule, one c shaped tool, one hoe two broken hoe 153 7 N2E0 Structure II 2 Codakia orbicularis 1 17 couple of broken edges, very fragmented 154 7 N2E0 Structure II 2 chiton sp 0 1 155 7 N2E0 Structure II 2 Tellina listeri 0 5 one left hinge 156 7 N2E0 Structure II 2 oliva sp. 0 1 broken bead 157 7 N2E0 Structure II 2 Diplodonta sp 0 1 158 7 N2E0 Structure II 2 Chama sarda 0 1 one top 159 7 N2E0 Structure II 2 Pteria colymbus 0 1 very shiny, shell has pearls other 'pinctada radiata' might have been Pteria colymbus 160 7 N2 E0 Structure II 2 UID 0 25 fragments 161 7 N2E0 Structure II 2 Cherithium sp 1 1 concreted soil inside and outside 162 1 N1E0 Structure II 1 Pteria colymbus 0 7 very golden color

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408 ID FS Unit Location Level Species MNI NISP Tool Comments 163 1 N1E0 S tructure II 1 Tellina listeri 0 8 small, fragmentary 164 1 N1E0 Structure II 1 Chama sarda 0 3 one small preform for a bead, round and 9 mm in diameter both pieces fit together and form one complete shell 165 1 N1E0 Structure II 1 Cittarium pica 0 5 sm all fragments 166 1 N1E0 Structure II 1 Chione cancelata 0 1 one left 167 1 N1E0 Structure II 1 Codakia orbicularis 0 17 one serated edge, scraper no hinge, fragments 168 1 N1E0 Structure II 1 Strombus gigas 2 46 one pick, two broken hoes, two needle, one nodule we just realized that none of the shells have extraction holes that we have seen 169 1 N1E0 Structure II 1 UID 0 12 fragments 170 1 N1E0 Structure II 1 Olivella sp 1 1 bead 171 1 N1E0 Structure II 1 Chione sp. 0 1 too robust and thick for chione though 172 1 N1E0 Structure II 1 Cittarium pica 0 3 fragments 173 10 N1E1 Structure II 4 strat A 174 10 N1E1 Structure II 4 Nerita sp. 0 1 175 10 N1E1 Structure II 4 Codakia orbicularis 0 15 two right 176 10 N1E1 Structure II 4 Cittariu m pica 0 2 177 10 N1E1 Structure II 4 Strombus gigas 21 two broken hoes, one needle 178 10 N1E1 Structure II 4 Brachidontes exutus 0 1 one right 179 10 N1E1 Structure II 4 Pteria colymbus 0 2 180 10 N1E1 Structure II 4 Tellina listeri 0 10 frag ments 181 10 N1E1 Structure II 4 UID 0 25 182 28 N3E2 Structure IV 4 Codakia orbicularis 0 1 one whole shell, edge nodged scraper second layer 183 28 N3E2 Structure IV 4 Strombus gigas 0 3 fragments 184 28 N3E2 Structure IV 4 Tellina listeri 0 3 fr agments 185 28 N3E2 Structure IV 4 oliva sp. 0 1 bead? fragment of outer whorl

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409 ID FS Unit Location Level Species MNI NISP Tool Comments 186 28 N3E2 Structure IV 4 Charonia variegata 0 1 very small fragment 187 28 N3E2 Structure IV 4 Cittarium pica 0 1 188 27 N3E2 Structure IV 4 Laevicardium laevigatum 0 1 complete valve, no wear 189 27 N3E2 Structure IV 4 Tellina listeri 0 1 fragment 190 27 N3E2 Structure IV 4 Codakia orbicularis 0 2 fragments 191 27 N3E2 Structure IV 4 Strombus gigas 0 11 n o tools, no colum pieces, all outer frgments, tool production 192 27 N3E2 Structure IV 4 UID 0 10 193 14 N1E1 Structure II 6 Cypraecassis testiculus 1 1 no bead context b 194 14 N1E1 Structure II 6 Strombus gigas 0 5 fragments context b 195 14 N1E1 Structure II 6 Turbinidae sp 0 1 196 14 N1E1 Structure II 6 Pinctada radiata 0 1 197 14 N1E1 Structure II 6 UID 0 3 fragments 198 21 N1E1 Structure II 80 Pteria colymbus 0 1 one large flat piece wallclean @ 80 cmbd 199 21 N1E1 Structure II 80 Coda kia orbicularis 0 3 wallclean @ 80 cmbd 200 21 N1E1 Structure II 80 Strombus gigas 0 1 wallclean @ 80 cmbd 201 21 N1E1 Structure II 80 Tellina listeri 0 1 wallclean @ 80 cmbd 202 19 N1E1 Structure II 7 Tellina listeri 0 1 203 19 N1E1 Structure II 7 UID 0 1 204 20 N1E1 Structure II 7 Strombus gigas 0 1 205 16 N1E1 Structure II 6 Strombus gigas 0 1 edge of hoe, or removed to make hoe feature 206 16 N1E1 Structure II 6 Pteria colymbus 0 1 feature 1 207 16 N1E1 Structure II 6 UID 0 1 fragment 208 10 N1E1 Structure II 4 Spondylus 0 2

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410 ID FS Unit Location Level Species MNI NISP Tool Comments 209 9 N1E1 Structure II 4 Tellina listeri 0 5 one left hinge 210 9 N1E1 Structure II 4 Codakia orbicularis 1 8 211 9 N1E1 Structure II 4 chiton sp 0 1 212 9 N1E1 Structure II 4 Strombus gigas 1 28 one hamer, one hoe, one broken hoe, two c shapes 213 9 N1E1 Structure II 4 Arcopagia faustae 0 1 214 9 N1E1 Structure II 4 Chama sarda 0 1 215 9 N1E1 Structure II 4 UID 0 19 216 9 N1E1 Struc ture II 4 Cypraecassis sp. 0 1 217 12 N1E1 Structure II 5 Codakia orbicularis 0 7 one right hinge 218 12 N1E1 Structure II 5 Cittarium pica 0 4 219 12 N1E1 Structure II 5 Tellina listeri 0 8 no hinge 220 12 N1E1 Structure II 5 chiton sp. 0 1 2 21 12 N1E1 Structure II 5 Strombus gigas 0 25 two broken hoe fragments, two needles two pieces were triangular and had one specific pointy point 222 12 N1E1 Structure II 5 UID 0 25 223 13 N1E1 Structure II 6 Codakia orbicularis 0 7 one piece burned 2 24 13 N1E1 Structure II 6 Tellina listeri 0 2 225 13 N1E1 Structure II 6 Cittarium pica 0 1 burned 226 13 N1E1 Structure II 6 Strombus gigas 0 20 one pick with clearly worn point, one broken hoe, one end of pick clearly not used, three small needles o ne preform for bead, small circle 227 13 N1E1 Structure II 6 UID 0 7 228 12 N1E1 Structure II 5 Brachidontes exutus 0 3 229 12 N1E1 Structure II 5 Pteria colymbus 0 1 230 12 N1E1 Structure II 5 Periglypta listeri 0 1 231 12 N1E1 Structure II 5 Tellina sp. 0 1 possibly angular tellin

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411 ID FS Unit Location Level Species MNI NISP Tool Comments 232 13 N1E1 Structure II 6 Pteria colymbus 0 3 233 13 N1E1 Structure II 6 Chiton 0 1 234 13 N1E1 Structure II 6 Diplodonta spp 0 1 235 13 N1E1 St ructure II 6 Pitar Circinata 0 2

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412 APPENDIX J ZOOARCHAEOLOGICAL AN ALYSIS Taxa Element NISP MNI Wt. (g) Notes FS UNIT LEVEL cmbd Acanthurus sp. vertebra 1 1 0.08 24 N3E2 1 54 80 Acanthurus sp. vertebrae 4 1 0.40 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Acanthurus sp. verteb rae 2 1 0.26 1 is anterior 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Acanthurus sp. vertebra 2 1 0.26 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Acanthurus sp. dorsal spine 1 0.35 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Acanthurus sp. vertebra 1 1 0.10 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Acanthurus sp. vertebrae 3 1 0.24 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Aca nthurus sp. vertebra 1 1 0.21 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Actinopterygii vertebrae 39 2.75 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Actinopterygii spine/rib 4 0.41 24 N3E2 1 54 80 Actinopterygii uid fragments 9 0.45 24 N3E2 1 54 80 Actinopterygii vertebrae 9 0.64 24 N3E2 1 54 80 Actinopterygii vertebrae 3 0.15 24 N3E2 1 54 80 Actinopterygii spine/rib 13 2.00 1 spine w/hyperostosis, likely Jack? 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Actinopterygii uid fragments 33 1.83 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Actinopterygii vertebrae 8 0.53 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Act inopterygii vertebrae 3 0.28 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Actinopterygii cleithrum 1 0.09 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Actinopterygii cleithrum 1 0.04 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Actinopterygii maxilla 1 0.87 large specimen 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Actinopterygii hyomandibular 1 0.56 large specimen 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Actinopterygii vertebrae 99 10.82 1 very large specimen; 2 are likely atli, but top disintegrated, 1 is quite large and both are BG/BB/BW 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Actinopterygii vertebrae 46 2.54 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Actinopterygii uid fra gments 457 30.12 43 N7E7 1 33 60

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413 Taxa Element NISP MNI Wt. (g) Notes FS UNIT LEVEL cmbd Actinopterygii uid elements 9 0.45 bagged separately for possible id in future 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Actinopterygii spine/rib 182 13.90 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Actinopterygi i upper pharyngeal grinder 2 0.36 Grunt? 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Actinopterygii parasphenoid 2 0.19 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Actinopterygii parasphenoid 1 1.43 Snapper? 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Actinopterygii ceratohyal/epihyal 2 0.40 Snapper? 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Actinopterygi i ceratohyal/epihyal 1 0.10 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Actinopterygii upper pharyngeal grinder 1 0.06 Grunt? 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Actinopterygii parasphenoid 1 0.17 Snapper? 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Actinopterygii epihyal 1 0.12 Snapper? 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Actinopterygii pal atine 1 0.09 Snapper? 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Actinopterygii palatine 2 0.19 Snapper? 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Actinopterygii urostyle 1 0.07 Grunt? 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Actinopterygii parasphenoid 1 0.02 Grunt? 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Actinopterygii cleithrum 3 0.17 Snapper? 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Actinopterygii cleithrum 3 0.19 Snapper? 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Actinopterygii suboperculum 1 0.16 Snapper? 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Actinopterygii otolith 1 0.31 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Actinopterygii vertebrae 25 1.93 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Actinopterygii sp ine/rib 154 11.42 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Actinopterygii uid fragments 579 34.64 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Actinopterygii uid fragments 10 1.14 in separate bag incase able to id in future, suboperculums too close between grunt and snapper 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Actinoptery gii upper pharyngeal grinder 3 0.29 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Actinopterygii upper pharyngeal grinder 1 0.04 broke during analysis, 2 bits 46 N7E7 2 60 70

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414 Taxa Element NISP MNI Wt. (g) Notes FS UNIT LEVEL cmbd Actinopterygii parasphenoid 1 0.07 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Actinopterygii cleithrum 3 0.11 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Actinopterygii cleithrum 4 0.37 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Actinopterygii parasphenoid 1 0.10 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Actinopterygii urostyle 3 0.17 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Actinopterygii penultimate 1 0.24 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Actinopterygii dentary 1 0.35 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Actinopterygii maxilla 1 0.02 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Actinopterygii atli 5 0.52 burned atlas is larger than others 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Actinopterygii vertebrae 26 4.20 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Actinopterygii ver tebrae 8 0.39 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Actinopterygii spine/rib 94 5.64 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Actinopterygii uid fragments 205 15.05 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Actinopterygii uid elements 7 0.67 bagged separately for future id 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Actinopterygii parasphenoid 1 0.29 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Actinopterygii upper pharyngeal grinder 2 0.21 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Actinopterygii supracleithrum 1 0.19 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Actinopterygii ceratohyal 1 0.11 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Actinopterygii ceratohyal 1 0.02 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Acti nopterygii cleithrum 1 0.05 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Actinopterygii cleithrum 1 0.05 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Actinopterygii cleithrum 1 0.03 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Actinopterygii cleithrum 1 0.05 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Actinopterygii cleithrum 2 0.09 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Actin opterygii ceratohyal 1 0.04 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Actinopterygii cleithrum 1 0.14 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Actinopterygii cleithrum 1 0.07 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Actinopterygii preoperculum 1 0.02 edges er oded, small sp. 47 N7E7 3 70 80

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415 Taxa Element NISP MNI Wt. (g) Notes FS UNIT LEVEL cmbd Actinopterygii cleithrum 2 0.08 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Actinopterygii atlas 1 0.26 cf. Gerres sp.? cf. Haemulidae? 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Actinopterygii spine/rib 60 4.14 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Actinopterygii uid elements 8 0.87 in separate b ag for future id 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Actinopterygii uid fragments 109 6.02 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Actinopterygii vertebrae 14 0.91 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Actinopterygii supracleithrum 1 0.04 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Actinopterygii upper pharyngeal grinder 2 0.18 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Actinopterygii upper pharyngeal grinder 1 0.11 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Actinopterygii cleithrum 2 0.09 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Actinopterygii cleithrum 1 0.04 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Actinopterygii palatine 1 0.15 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Actinopterygii palatine 1 0 .22 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Actinopterygii parasphenoid 2 0.18 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Actinopterygii atlas 1 0.09 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Actinopterygii pterygoid 1 0.25 try to id further, no pterygoid teeth present 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Actinopterygii spine/rib 28 2.60 5 4 N7E7 5 90 100 Actinopterygii uid fragments 77 5.32 1 cleithrum, 1 articular, 1 hyomandibular, 1 possible dentary 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Actinopterygii vertebrae 22 1.59 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Actinopterygii vertebrae 5 0.50 1 is an atlas fragment 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Actinopterygii preoperculum 1 0.10 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Actinopterygii palatine 1 0.38 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Actinopterygii preoperculum 1 0.12 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Actinopterygii cleithrum 2 0.08 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Actinopterygii epihyal 2 0.16 54 N7 E7 5 90 100 Actinopterygii epihyal 1 0.13 54 N7E7 5 90 100

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416 Taxa Element NISP MNI Wt. (g) Notes FS UNIT LEVEL cmbd Actinopterygii cleithrum 1 0.11 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Actinopterygii spine/rib 15 1.02 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Actinopterygii uid fragments 64 3.95 1 right maxilla fragment 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Actinopterygii vertebrae 6 0.66 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Actinopterygii vertebrae 21 2.21 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Actinopterygii cleithrum 1 0.02 cf. Lutjanidae? 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Actinopterygii cleithrum 1 0. 04 cf. Lutjanidae? 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Actinopterygii cleithrum 1 0.07 cf. Lutjanidae? 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Actinopterygii parasphenoid 2 0.28 Grunt? 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Actinopterygii atlas 1 0.11 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Actinopterygii vertebrae 143 10.78 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Albula vulpes otoliths 2 2 0.85 24 N3E2 1 54 80 Albula vulpes vertebrae 20 2.05 anterior=12, posterior=8 24 N3E2 1 54 80 Albula vulpes grinder plate 3 0.29 24 N3E2 1 54 80 Albula vulpes cf. atlas 1 0.10 anterior 25 N3E2 2 80 90 A lbula vulpes otoliths 3 3 1.16 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Albula vulpes otoliths 1 0.89 larger than all left otoliths, MNI 1 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Albula vulpes premaxilla 1 0.05 not sure of side 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Albula vulpes vertebrae 20 1.88 anterior=12, posterior =8 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Albula vulpes vertebrae 1 0.06 posterior 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Albula vulpes grinder plate 1 0.17 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Albula vulpes upper pharyngeal grinder 1 0.26 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Albula vulpes hyomandibular 1 0.49 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Alb ula vulpes operculum 1 0.24 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Albula vulpes operculum 1 0.16 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Albula vulpes operculum 1 0.08 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Albula vulpes quadrate 1 0.15 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Albula vulpes quadrate 1 0.20 largest specimen 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Albula vulpes quadrate 1 0.11 43 N7E7 1 33 60

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417 Taxa Element NISP MNI Wt. (g) Notes FS UNIT LEVEL cmbd Albula vulpes quadrate 2 0.12 both small size 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Albula vulpes cf. vomer 1 0.08 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Albula vulpes dentary 2 0.23 4 3 N7E7 1 33 60 Albula vulpes dentary 4 0.46 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Albula vulpes otolith 18 18 7.64 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Albula vulpes otolith 5 5 2.08 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Albula vulpes otolith 15 5.45 1 possible portion BB 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Albula vulpes otolith 3 1.09 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Albula vulpes vertebrae 290 31.84 anterior = 147, posterior = 143 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Albula vulpes vertebrae 31 2.42 anterior = 4, posterior = 26 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Albula vulpes basioccipitals 2 0.20 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Albula vulp es upper pharyngeal grinder 2 0.90 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Albula vulpes lower pharyngeal grinder 3 0.89 2 nearly whole 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Albula vulpes grinder plate 22 2.32 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Albula vulpes vertebrae 251 28.19 anterior=106, posterior=145 46 N7 E7 2 60 70 Albula vulpes vertebrae 19 1.47 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Albula vulpes otoliths 12 5.58 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Albula vulpes otoliths 15 15 6.14 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Albula vulpes basioccipital 4 0.74 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Albula vulpes parasphenoid 4 3.26 4 different individuals 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Albula vulpes lower pharyngeal grinder 4 2.93 4 different individuals 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Albula vulpes upper pharyngeal grinder 1 0.59 not sure about side 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Albula vulpes upper pharyngeal grinder 5 1.3 7 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Albula vulpes lower pharyngeal grinder 1 0.29 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Albula vulpes operculum 4 1.39 46 N7E7 2 60 70

PAGE 418

418 Taxa Element NISP MNI Wt. (g) Notes FS UNIT LEVEL cmbd Albula vulpes dentary 3 0.31 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Albula vulpes den tary 4 0.37 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Albula vulpes quadrates 2 0.13 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Albula vulpes quadrates 2 0.12 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Albula vulpes quadrates 1 0.09 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Albula vulpes quadrates 3 0.23 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Albula vulpes operculum 1 0.14 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Albula vulpes operculum 1 0.16 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Albula vulpes maxilla 1 0.04 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Albula vulpes quadrates 2 0.24 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Albula vulpes premaxilla 1 0.03 not sure about side 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Albula vulpe s basioccipital, parasphenoid 1 0.16 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Albula vulpes basioccipital 1 0.25 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Albula vulpes grinder plates 21 2.71 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Albula vulpes hyomandibular 1 0.30 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Albula vulpes dentary 1 0.14 47 N7 E7 3 70 80 Albula vulpes maxilla 1 0.22 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Albula vulpes grinder plates 3 0.75 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Albula vulpes otoliths 5 2.08 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Albula vulpes otoliths 2 0.81 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Albula vulpes otoliths 4 4 0.77 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Albula vulpes otoliths 4 4 1.07 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Albula vulpes atli 2 0.22 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Albula vulpes basioccipital 2 0.70 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Albula vulpes vertebrae 13 0.52 1 is anterior 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Albula vulpes vertebrae 107 11.84 a nterior=52, posterior=55 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Albula vulpes articular 1 0.05 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Albula vulpes epihyal 1 0.09 not sure on side 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Albula vulpes grinder plates 4 0.45 53 N7E7 4 80 90

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419 Taxa Element NISP MNI Wt. (g) Notes FS UNIT L EVEL cmbd Albula vulpes operculum 1 0.08 dorsal 1/4 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Albula vulpes operculum 1 0.09 dorsal 1/4 w/possible burned surface 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Albula vulpes otoliths 4 2.06 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Albula vulpes otoliths 1 0.64 53 N7E7 4 80 90 A lbula vulpes otoliths 6 6 2.21 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Albula vulpes otoliths 1 1 0.42 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Albula vulpes quadrate 2 0.40 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Albula vulpes quadrate 1 0.07 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Albula vulpes vertebrae 10 0.79 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Albula v ulpes vetebrae 70 7.15 anterior=31, posterior=39 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Albula vulpes atlas 1 0.13 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Albula vulpes operculum 1 0.31 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Albula vulpes otolith 1 1 0.50 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Albula vulpes otolith 1 1 0.34 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Albula vulpes otolith 1 0.46 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Albula vulpes otolith 1 0.38 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Albula vulpes parasphenoid 3 0.68 MNI 2 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Albula vulpes vertebrae 48 5.18 anterior=18, posterior=30 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Albula vulpes vomer 1 0.23 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Albula vulpes grinder plate 3 0.23 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Albula vulpes grinding plates 1 0.27 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Albula vulpes operculum 2 2 0.54 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Albula vulpes otoliths 2 0.84 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Albul a vulpes otoliths 1 0.63 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Albula vulpes vertebrae 40 4.30 anterior=13, posterior=27 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Albula vulpes grinding plates 2 0.18 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Ardea sp. quadrate 1 1 0.18 24 N3E2 1 54 80 Athene cunicularia coracoid 1 1 0.08 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Athene cunicularia humerus 1 1 0.20 54 N7E7 5 90 100

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420 Taxa Element NISP MNI Wt. (g) Notes FS UNIT LEVEL cmbd Aves longbone shaft 1 1 0.16 24 N3E2 1 54 80 Aves uid fragment 1 0.15 coracoid frag? 24 N3E2 1 54 80 Aves tibio tarsus 1 0.14 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Aves uid shaft fragments 6 0.33 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Aves cervical vertebra 1 0.07 missing spinous process 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Aves long bone 2 0.33 possible humerus shaft? 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Aves long bone 3 0.64 possible femu r shafts? 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Aves phalange 1 0.05 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Aves longbone 7 1 1.77 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Aves vertebra 1 0.05 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Aves uid shaft fragment 1 0.44 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Aves longbone shaft 2 0.07 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Aves cf. fem ur shaft 1 0.43 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Aves longbone shaft 5 1.25 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Aves cf. 2nd digit 1 0.07 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Aves longbone 2 0.57 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Aves uid fragments 2 0.08 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Aves cervical vertebra 1 1 0.09 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Aves longbone 4 0.88 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Belonidae vertebra 1 1 0.07 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Belonidae quadrate 1 1 0.08 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Belonidae vertebrae 3 0.12 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Belonidae vertebrae 9 1 0.49 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Belonidae vertebra 1 1 0.04 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Brachyura claw 2 0.18 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Brachyura cf. Gecarcinidae claw 2 1 0.24 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Burhinus sp. humerus 1 1 0.92 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Burhinus sp. carpometacarpus 1 1 0.21 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Burhinus sp. femur 2 1 0.2 4 2 bits mend 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Calamus sp. premaxilla 1 1 0.06 43 N7E7 1 33 60

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421 Taxa Element NISP MNI Wt. (g) Notes FS UNIT LEVEL cmbd Calamus sp. articular 1 1 0.91 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Carangidae vertebra 1 0.15 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Carangidae vertebrae 3 0.57 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Carangidae vertebra 4 0.37 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Carangidae quadrate 1 0.15 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Carangidae quadrate 1 0.07 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Carangidae quadrate 1 0.06 missing ventral tip 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Carangidae vertebra 1 0.08 po sterior 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Carangidae vertebra 1 0.06 posterior 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Carangidae quadrates 2 0.13 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Carangidae vertebrae 2 0.26 1 posterior 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Carangidae/Lutjanidae articular 1 0.02 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Caranx c f. latus premaxilla 1 0.04 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Caranx cf. latus premaxilla 1 1 0.13 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Caranx sp. palatine 1 0.04 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Caranx sp. palatine 1 1 0.06 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Caranx sp. quadrate 1 0.05 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Caranx sp. denta ry 1 0.16 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Caranx sp. dentary 1 1 0.13 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Caranx sp. maxilla 1 0.31 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Caranx sp. maxilla 1 1 0.12 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Caranx sp. maxilla 1 0.10 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Caranx sp. cf. latus premaxilla 1 0.11 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Caranx sp. cf. latus premaxilla 1 1 0.09 46 N7E7 2 60 70 cf. Acanthurus sp. vertebra 1 0.09 a bit smooshed 46 N7E7 2 60 70 cf. Acanthurus sp. vertebra 1 0.26 47 N7E7 3 70 80 cf. Albula vulpes hyomandibular 1 0.19 43 N7E7 1 33 6 0 cf. Aves long bone 4 0.59 43 N7E7 1 33 60 cf. Aves longbone 3 0.39 46 N7E7 2 60 70 cf. Aves longbone shaft 4 0.50 53 N7E7 4 80 90

PAGE 422

422 Taxa Element NISP MNI Wt. (g) Notes FS UNIT LEVEL cmbd cf. Brachyura uid fragments 2 1 0.19 25 N3E2 2 80 90 cf. Carangidae/Lutjanidae quadrate 2 0.11 43 N7E7 1 33 60 cf. Carangidae/Lutjanidae quadrate 2 0.31 43 N7E7 1 33 60 cf. Carangidae/Lutjanidae quadrate 1 0.08 43 N7E7 1 33 60 cf. Carangidae/Lutjanidae articular 1 0.53 missing anterior and posterior e nds 43 N7E7 1 33 60 cf. Caranx sp. operculum 1 1 0.05 24 N3E2 1 54 80 cf. Cheloniidae cf. rib 1 0.15 47 N7E7 3 70 80 cf. Cyclura carinata rib 1 0.09 55 N7E7 6 100 110 cf. Gecarcinidae cf. upper claw 1 1.55 pathological? Texture and bumps on poin t, but odd shape 43 N7E7 1 33 60 cf. Haemulidae vertebrae 4 0.12 43 N7E7 1 33 60 cf. Haemulidae vertebra 24 1.11 anterior 46 N7E7 2 60 70 cf. Haemulidae maxilla 1 0.05 46 N7E7 2 60 70 cf. Haemulidae hyomandibular 1 0.05 1 process broken off 46 N7 E7 2 60 70 cf. Haemulidae vertebrae 4 0.21 47 N7E7 3 70 80 cf. Lutjanidae preoperculum 2 0.12 43 N7E7 1 33 60 cf. Lutjanidae operculum 1 0.05 43 N7E7 1 33 60 cf. Lutjanidae operculum 1 0.03 43 N7E7 1 33 60 cf. Lutjanidae hyomandibular 2 0.16 not enough of dorsal 1/2 43 N7E7 1 33 60 cf. Lutjanidae articular 1 0.08 missing ventral 1/2 46 N7E7 2 60 70 cf. Lutjanidae dentary 1 0.10 cf. Apsilus dentatus 46 N7E7 2 60 70 cf. Lutjanidae basioccipital 1 0.05 46 N7E7 2 60 70 cf. Lutjanidae arti cular 1 0.02 small specimen 54 N7E7 5 90 100 cf. Lutjanidae operculum 1 3.00 small specimen 54 N7E7 5 90 100 cf. Lutjanidae operculum 1 0.04 small specimen 55 N7E7 6 100 110 cf. medium/large Mammalia uid fragments 4 1 5.37 3 articulate, MNI=1, possib le diaphysis fragment but with unusual "flare" at one end 53 N7E7 4 80 90

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423 Taxa Element NISP MNI Wt. (g) Notes FS UNIT LEVEL cmbd cf. Pandion haliaetus claw 1 1 0.14 0.14 54 N7E7 5 90 100 cf. Rallus sp. synsacrum 1 1 0.25 43 N7E7 1 33 60 cf. Scaridae q uadrate 1 0.03 sided from comparative specimen 46 N7E7 2 60 70 cf. Serranidae articular 1 1 0.11 25 N3E2 2 80 90 cf. Serranidae dentary 1 0.03 46 N7E7 2 60 70 cf. Serranidae basioccipital 1 0.09 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Cheloniidae carapace/plastron 4 1 0.79 24 N3E2 1 54 80 Cheloniidae uid fragments 13 4.68 2 bits articulate 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Cheloniidae marginals 6 5.80 small individuals 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Cheloniidae cf. coracoid 1 1.50 small individual 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Cheloniidae uid fragments 2 1 .06 1 is possible metacarpal 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Cheloniidae phalange 0 1 0.19 small individual 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Cheloniidae cf. phalange 3 0.33 small individuals 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Cheloniidae plastron 2 4.71 shape, texture like sea turtle, but very small, juvenile/subadult? 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Cheloniidae carapace 1 0.32 with rib fragment attached 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Cheloniidae plastron/carapace 13 7.77 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Cheloniidae plastron 4 1 1.92 size, texture, very small likely a hatchling 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Cheloniidae plaston/carapace 7 3.93 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Cheloniidae plastron 1 1.50 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Cheloniidae uid fragments 21 5.13 texture likely sea turtle 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Cheloniidae xiphiplastron 1 1 3.14 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Cheloniidae plastro n 3 9.70 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Cheloniidae carapace 2 1.88 1 cf. neural? 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Cheloniidae rib 3 0.67 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Cheloniidae vertebrae 1 0.19 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Cheloniidae neural 1 4.27 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Cheloniidae neurals 2 2.88 46 N7E7 2 60 70

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424 Taxa Element NISP MNI Wt. (g) Notes FS UNIT LEVEL cmbd Cheloniidae peripherals/marginals 4 7.31 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Cheloniidae cf. peripherals/marginals 4 2.84 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Cheloniidae cf. plastron 2 6.89 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Cheloniidae metacarpal/metatarsal 1 0.54 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Cheloniidae uid fragments 10 2.20 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Cheloniidae coracoid 1 1 11.41 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Cheloniidae carapace 2 3.39 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Cheloniidae rib 1 0.46 off carapace 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Chel oniidae cf. phalange 1 0.23 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Cheloniidae cf. plastron 1 0.56 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Cheloniidae carapace/plastron 1 0.68 likely sea turtle, but heat treated surface and small size 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Cheloniidae uid fragments 6 1.04 likely se a turtle 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Cheloniidae carapace/plastron 2 1.13 1 possible neural fragment 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Cheloniidae cf. cranial fragment 1 1 1.28 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Cheloniidae cf. phalange 1 0.35 1 possible hack mark 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Cheloniidae metat arsal/metacarpal 2 0.91 smaller than comparatives 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Cheloniidae plastron/carapace 1 0.34 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Cheloniidae cf. phalange 2 0.86 2 bits articulate 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Cheloniidae skull 1 1 0.39 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Cheloniidae cara pace 1 0.95 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Cheloniidae carapace 1 0.13 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Cheloniidae carapace/plastron 4 1.46 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Cheloniidae cf. longbone 1 0.15 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Cheloniidae uid fragments 2 0.22 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Cheloniida e carapace 2 3.55 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Cheloniidae phalange 3 1 1.37 55 N7E7 6 100 110

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425 Taxa Element NISP MNI Wt. (g) Notes FS UNIT LEVEL cmbd Cyclura carinata thoracolumbar vertebra 1 1 0.21 24 N3E2 1 54 80 Cyclura carinata thoracolumbar vertebra 1 0.19 likely Iguanidae 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Cyclura carinata articular 1 1 0.15 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Cyclura carinata dentary 1 0.11 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Cyclura carinata thoracolumbar 1 0.31 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Cyclura carinata caudual vertbrae 1 0.10 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Cyclura carinata articular 1 0.18 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Cyclura carinata pelvic girdle 1 0.70 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Cyclura carinata maxilla 2 2 0.51 w/some teeth 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Cyclura carinata maxilla 1 0.24 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Cyclura carinata dentary 1 0.18 w/some teeth 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Cyclura carinata vertebrae 3 0.79 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Cyclura carinata vertebrae 1 0.06 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Cyclura carinata radius 1 1 0.22 distal tip broken off 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Cyclura carinata cranium 1 0.22 46 N7E 7 2 60 70 Cyclura carinata innominate 1 0.31 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Cyclura carinata pelvis 1 0.19 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Cyclura carinata basioccipital 1 1 0.30 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Cyclura carinata cf. cervical vertebra 1 0.14 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Cyclura carinata t horacolumbar vertebrae 2 0.50 1 missing neural spine 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Cyclura carinata dentary 1 1 0.20 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Cyclura carinata articular 1 0.54 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Cyclura carinata vertebra 1 0.10 possible caudal vertebra 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Cyc lura carinata caudal vertebra 1 0.20 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Cyclura carinata pterygoid 1 1 0.25 no pterygoid teeth present 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Cyclura carinata dentary 1 0.32 54 N7E7 5 90 100

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426 Taxa Element NISP MNI Wt. (g) Notes FS UNIT LEVEL cmbd Cyclura ca rinata thoracolumbar vertebrae 3 0.45 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Cyclura carinata thoracolumbar vertebra 1 0.30 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Cyclura carinata thoracolumbar vertebra 1 0.09 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Cyclura carinata pterygoid 1 1 0.26 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Cyclur a carinata articular 1 0.20 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Decapoda cf. Brachyura uid fragments 3 0.59 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Decapoda cf. Brachyura sp. uid fragments 14 3.67 several are likely claw fragments 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Diodontidae puffer spines 1 1 0.20 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Diodontidae puffer spines 1 0.70 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Epicrates chrysogaster vertebrae 8 1 0.87 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Epinephelus sp. maxilla 1 0.15 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Epinephelus sp. vomer 1 1 0.12 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Epinephelus sp. dentary 1 0.17 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Epinephelus sp. palatine 1 1 0.15 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Exocoetidae vertebrae 2 1 0.07 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Gecarcinidae claw 2 1 0.64 24 N3E2 1 54 80 Gecarcinidae claw 1 1 0.30 based on texture 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Gecarcinidae cf. Cardisoma sp. upper claw 1 2.09 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Gecarcinidae cf. Cardisoma sp. lower claw 3 1 3.31 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Gecarcinidae cf. Cardisoma sp. body fragment 1 0.81 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Gecarcinidae cf. Cardisoma sp. claw 20 6.25 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Gecarcinidae c f. Cardisoma sp. claw 2 1 1.04 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Gecarcinidae cf. Cardisoma sp. cf. lower claw 1 0.29 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Gecarcinidae cf. Cardisoma sp. claw 1 1 0.19 53 N7E7 4 80 90

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427 Taxa Element NISP MNI Wt. (g) Notes FS UNIT LEVEL cmbd Gecarcinidae cf. Gecarcinus sp. claw 1 1 0.24 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Gerreidae post temporal 1 1 0.03 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Gerreidae upper pharyngeal grinder 1 0.16 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Gerreidae vertebra 2 0.17 both anterior 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Gerreidae atlas 1 0.11 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Gerreidae vertebrae 2 0.18 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Gerreidae cf. Gerres cinereus premaxilla 1 1 0.03 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Gerreidae cf. Gerres cinereus quadrate 1 0.08 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Gerreidae cf. Gerres cinereus premaxilla 2 2 0.26 1 lg., 1 sm. 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Gerreidae cf. Gerres cinereus maxilla 1 1 0.20 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Gerridae quadrate 2 2 0.14 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Gerridae quadrate 1 0.07 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Haemulidae vertebrae 8 0.55 all anterior 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Haemulidae maxilla 1 0.03 43 N 7E7 1 33 60 Haemulidae operculum 1 0.07 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Haemulidae operculum 1 0.02 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Haemulidae post temporal 3 0.15 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Haemulidae post temporal 1 0.05 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Haemulidae hyomandibular 1 0.03 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Haemulidae palatine 1 0.07 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Haemulidae premaxilla 1 0.07 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Haemulidae preoperculum 1 0.07 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Haemulidae vertebrae 15 0.96 all anterior, do not use for MNI 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Haemulidae preoperculum 3 0.30 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Haemulidae post temporal 1 0.04 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Haemulidae operculum 2 0.06 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Haemulidae preoperculum 1 0.02 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Haemulidae post temporals 2 0.07 46 N7E7 2 60 70

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428 Taxa Element NISP MNI Wt. (g) Not es FS UNIT LEVEL cmbd Haemulidae vertebrae 4 0.18 anterior vertebrae 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Haemulidae preoperculum 2 0.29 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Haemulidae post temporal 1 0.04 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Haemulidae post temporal 1 0.04 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Haemulidae post temporal 1 0.05 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Haemulidae vertebrae 2 0.28 anterior 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Haemulidae vomer 1 0.05 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Haemulidae post temporal 1 0.04 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Haemulidae preoperculum 1 0.04 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Haemulidae vertebrae 4 0.24 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Haemulon sp. quadrate 1 1 0.06 24 N3E2 1 54 80 Haemulon sp. quadrate 1 0.05 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Haemulon sp. quadrate 1 0.06 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Haemulon sp. premaxilla 1 1 0.07 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Haemulon sp. premaxilla 1 1 0. 05 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Haemulon sp. maxilla 2 0.22 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Haemulon sp. articular 3 0.24 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Haemulon sp. quadrate 1 0.06 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Haemulon sp. otolith 1 0.15 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Haemulon sp. maxilla 1 0.06 46 N7E7 2 60 7 0 Haemulon sp. quadrate 2 0.12 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Haemulon sp. dentary 2 0.06 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Haemulon sp. premaxilla 1 0.17 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Haemulon sp. premaxilla 1 0.10 missing proximal tip 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Haemulon sp. premaxilla 2 2 0.19 46 N 7E7 2 60 70 Haemulon sp. premaxilla 3 3 0.13 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Haemulon sp. premaxilla 2 2 0.14 missing proximal tip 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Haemulon sp. dentary 1 0.20 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Haemulon sp. articular 2 0.12 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Haemulon sp. dentary 1 0 .02 46 N7E7 2 60 70

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429 Taxa Element NISP MNI Wt. (g) Notes FS UNIT LEVEL cmbd Haemulon sp. maxilla 1 0.03 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Haemulon sp. maxilla 1 2.41 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Haemulon sp. articular 1 0.11 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Haemulon sp. atlas 1 0.14 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Haemulon sp. articular 2 2 0.11 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Haemulon sp. dentary 1 1 0.08 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Haemulon sp. premaxilla 1 0.03 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Haemulon sp. quadrate 1 0.07 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Haemulon sp. maxilla 1 0.11 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Haemulon sp. premaxilla 1 0.07 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Haemulon sp. quadrate 1 1 0.04 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Haemulon sp. quadrate 1 1 0.07 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Haemulon sp. articular 1 1 0.11 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Haemulon sp. quadrate 1 0.05 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Hae mulon sp. dentary 1 0.06 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Haemulon sp. hyomandibular 2 0.21 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Haemulon sp. hyomandibular 1 0.08 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Labridae lower pharyngeal grinder 1 1 0.18 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Labridae cf. Bodianus sp. dentary 1 1 0.09 5 4 N7E7 5 90 100 Labridae cf. Halichoeres sp. lower pharyngeal grinder 1 1 1.77 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Lacertilia thoracolumbar vertebra 1 0.53 posterior end is not intact 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Lacertilia vertebra 1 0.10 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Lacertilia vertebra 1 0. 11 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Large Sea Mammalia tooth root 2 1 0.75 two pieces articulate 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Lutjanidae vertebra 1 1 0.31 24 N3E2 1 54 80

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430 Taxa Element NISP MNI Wt. (g) Notes FS UNIT LEVEL cmbd Lutjanidae vertebrae 5 0.63 anterior verts 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Lutjanidae articular 3 0.68 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Lutjanidae articular 1 0.17 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Lutjanidae articular 4 0.33 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Lutjanidae post temporal 2 0.50 1 large specimen 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Lutjanidae post temporal 1 0.04 43 N7E 7 1 33 60 Lutjanidae quadrate 1 0.04 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Lutjanidae vertebra 1 0.33 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Lutjanidae quadrates 2 0.08 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Lutjanidae quadrates 3 0.19 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Lutjanidae preoperculum 5 0.64 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Lutjanida e palatine 1 0.04 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Lutjanidae post temporal 1 0.04 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Lutjanidae post temporal 2 0.09 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Lutjanidae articular 2 0.15 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Lutjanidae articular 1 1.10 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Lutjanidae articular 4 0.30 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Lutjanidae post temporal 1 0.02 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Lutjanidae preoperculum 1 0.05 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Lutjanidae cleithrum 2 0.15 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Lutjanidae cleithrum 1 0.03 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Lutjanidae cleithrum 3 0.23 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Lutjanidae cleithrum 1 0.04 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Lutjanidae cleithrum 4 0.20 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Lutjanidae cleithrum 2 0.10 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Lutjanidae quadrate 1 0.42 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Lutjanidae quadrate 1 0.10 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Lutjanidae ve rtebrae 2 0.25 anterior vertebrae 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Lutjanidae articular 1 0.09 47 N7E7 3 70 80

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431 Taxa Element NISP MNI Wt. (g) Notes FS UNIT LEVEL cmbd Lutjanidae dentary 1 0.03 small surface not clean, likely Lutjanus sp. 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Lutjanidae a rticular 3 3 0.18 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Lutjanidae post temporal 1 0.07 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Lutjanidae quadrate 1 0.20 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Lutjanidae quadrate 1 0.06 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Lutjanidae basioccipital 2 0.50 2 bits articulate 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Lutjanid ae preoperculum 1 0.12 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Lutjanidae vertebrae 2 0.18 anterior vertebrae 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Lutjanidae preoperculum 1 0.10 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Lutjanidae preoperculum 1 0.07 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Lutjanus sp. hyomandibular 1 0.02 43 N7E 7 1 33 60 Lutjanus sp. atli 3 0.50 2 are thicker like L. griseus 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Lutjanus sp. hyomandibular 1 0.17 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Lutjanus sp. dentary 1 1 0.19 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Lutjanus sp. hyomandibular 1 1 0.02 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Lutjanus sp. pre maxilla 1 0.45 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Lutjanus sp. dentary 1 1 0.11 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Lutjanus sp. maxilla 1 0.07 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Lutjanus sp. premaxilla 1 0.10 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Lutjanus sp. vomer 1 0.43 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Lutjanus sp. dentary 3 3 0.22 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Lutjanus sp. dentary 2 0.61 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Lutjanus sp. dentary 1 1 0.06 tooth row not intact 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Lutjanus sp. premaxilla 2 1.31 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Lutjanus sp. premaxilla 1 0.25 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Lutjanus sp. prem axilla 1 0.20 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Lutjanus sp. maxilla 2 0.45 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Lutjanus sp. maxilla 1 0.09 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Lutjanus sp. otolith 1 0.41 46 N7E7 2 60 70

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432 Taxa Element NISP MNI Wt. (g) Notes FS UNIT LEVEL cmbd Lutjanus sp. hyomandibular 5 5 0.45 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Lutjanus sp. maxilla 2 0.17 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Lutjanus sp. maxilla 1 0.04 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Lutjanus sp. premaxilla 1 0.07 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Lutjanus sp. premaxilla 1 0.06 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Lutjanus sp. premaxilla 1 0.09 4 6 N7E7 2 60 70 Lutjanus sp. dentary 1 0.20 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Ostraciidae vertebra 1 1 0.08 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Ostraciidae scale 1 1 0.07 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Ostraciidae scales 3 1 0.19 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Ostraciidae scale 1 0.08 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Ostraci idae vertebrae 2 1 0.43 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Portunidae upper claw 2 1 1.12 cf. Callinectes sp., 2 frags articulate 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Portunidae upper claw 1 1 0.28 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Portunidae upper claw 1 1 0.30 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Sauria cf. dentary 1 0.1 7 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Scaridae vertebrae 2 0.17 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Scaridae hyomandibular 1 0.29 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Scaridae hyomandibular 1 0.14 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Scaridae vertebrae 2 0.33 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Scaridae urostyle 1 0.20 43 N7E7 1 33 60 S caridae hypural plates 3 0.52 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Scaridae hyomandibular 2 0.16 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Scaridae fin/ray 1 0.07 possible metapterygium 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Scaridae hyomandibular 1 0.14 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Scaridae operculum 1 0.10 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Scaridae cf. Sparisoma sp. atlas 1 1 0.07 broken and eroded 24 N3E2 1 54 80 Scarus sp. lower pharyngeal grinder 1 1 0.11 24 N3E2 1 54 80 Scarus sp. maxilla 1 0.13 43 N7E7 1 33 60

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433 Taxa Element NISP MNI Wt. (g) Notes FS UNIT LEVEL cmbd Scarus sp. d entary 1 1 0.05 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Scarus sp. dentary 1 0.36 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Scarus sp. dentary 1 1 0.34 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Scarus sp. upper pharyngeal grinder 1 0.21 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Scarus sp. upper pharyngeal grinder 2 0.26 different individuals 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Scarus sp. dentary 1 1 0.10 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Scarus sp. upper pharyngeal grinder 1 0.61 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Scarus sp. upper pharyngeal grinder 1 0.07 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Scarus sp. operculum 1 0.14 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Scarus sp. dentary 1 0.1 0 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Scarus sp. premaxilla 2 2 0.18 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Scarus sp. premaxilla 1 0.10 missing proximal tip 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Scarus sp. upper pharyngeal grinder 1 1 0.13 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Scarus sp. atlas 1 0.11 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Scarus sp. lo wer pharyngeal grinder 2 2 0.52 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Scarus sp. dentary 1 1 0.11 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Scarus sp. upper pharyngeal grinder 1 0.17 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Scarus sp. premaxilla 1 1 0.07 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Sciaenidae atlas 1 1 0.16 47 N7E7 3 70 80 S combridae vertebrae 1 1 0.33 poterior/caudal 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Serranidae vomer 1 1 0.11 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Serranidae dentary 1 0.17 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Serranidae operculum 1 0.14 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Serranidae vertebra 1 0.10 anterior 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Se rranidae preoperculum 1 0.26 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Serranidae operculum 1 0.39 54 N7E7 5 90 100

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434 Taxa Element NISP MNI Wt. (g) Notes FS UNIT LEVEL cmbd Serranidae palatine 1 0.10 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Serranidae quadrate 1 0.21 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Serranidae cf. Epinephelus sp. premaxilla 1 1 0.47 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Serranidae cf. Epinephelus/Mycteroperca sp. atlas 1 1 0.16 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Serranidae cf. Mycteroperca sp. articular 1 1 0.25 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Serranidae cf. Mycteroperca sp. articular 1 0.18 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Sparidae cf. Calamus sp. premaxilla 1 0.04 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Sparisoma sp. lower pharyngeal grinder 1 1 0.20 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Sparisoma sp. premaxilla 1 1.32 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Sparisoma sp. maxilla 1 0.33 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Sparisoma sp. dentary 1 0.76 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Sparisoma sp. dentary 1 1 0.10 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Sparisoma sp. upper pharyngeal grinder 1 0.79 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Sparisoma sp. upper pharyngeal grinder 1 0.12 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Sparisoma sp. upper pharyngeal grinder 1 0.17 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Sparisoma sp. lower pharyngeal grinder 2 0.50 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Sparisoma sp. dentary 1 1 0.38 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Sparisoma sp. dentary 1 0.17 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Sparisoma sp. premaxilla 1 0.08 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Sparisoma sp. ar ticular 1 0.10 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Sparisoma sp. quadrate 1 0.07 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Sparisoma sp. lower pharyngeal grinder 1 0.16 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Sparisoma sp. lower pharyngeal grinder 1 0.23 46 N7E7 2 60 70

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435 Taxa Element NISP MNI Wt. (g) Notes FS UNIT LEVEL cmbd Sparisoma sp. dentary 1 1 0.13 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Sparisoma sp. dentary 1 1 0.15 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Sparisoma sp. dentary 1 0.12 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Sparisoma sp. articular 1 0.27 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Sparisoma sp. dentary 1 1 0.19 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Sparisoma sp. dentary 1 1 0.13 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Sparisoma sp. upper pharyngeal grinder 1 0.39 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Sphyraena barracuda lacrymal 1 1 0.10 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Sphyraena barracuda premaxilla 1 0.11 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Sphyraena barracuda dentary 1 1 0.11 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Sphyraena barracuda dentary 1 1 0.61 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Sphyraena barracuda premaxilla 1 0.27 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Sphyraena barracuda articular 1 0.37 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Sphyraena barracuda palatine 1 0.07 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Sphyr aena barracuda vertebrae 8 0.62 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Sphyraena barracuda cf. palatine 1 0.06 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Sphyraena barracuda dentary 1 1 0.07 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Sphyraena barracuda premaxilla 1 0.09 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Sphyraena barracuda premaxilla too th 1 0.39 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Sphyraena barracuda palatine 1 0.37 missing anterior tip 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Sphyraena barracuda quadrate 1 1 0.09 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Sphyraena barracuda dentary 1 0.09 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Sphyraena barracuda vertebra 1 0.19 46 N 7E7 2 60 70 Sphyraena barracuda uid fragment w/teeth 1 0.13 part of palatine? 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Sphyraena barracuda palatine 1 1 0.13 smaller individual than one below, MNI=2 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Sphyraena barracuda palatine 1 1 0.90 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Sphyrae na barracuda palatine 1 1 0.05 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Sphyraena barracuda dentary 1 1 0.16 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Sphyraena barracuda maxilla 1 0.19 55 N7E7 6 100 110

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436 Taxa Element NISP MNI Wt. (g) Notes FS UNIT LEVEL cmbd Sphyraena barracuda premaxilla 2 0.19 2 bits articulate 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Sphyraena barracuda vertebrae 2 0.29 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Sphyraena barracuda vertebra 1 1 0.22 posterior 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Vertebrata uid elements 3 0.47 cf. fish? 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Vertebrata uid fragments 2 0.09 25 N3E2 2 80 90 Vertebrata uid fragments 17 5.15 likely mostly fish, turtle, and possible bird 43 N7E7 1 33 60 Vertebrata uid fragments 13 2.11 several likely reptilian and possible bird 46 N7E7 2 60 70 Vertebrata uid fragments 17 1.64 47 N7E7 3 70 8 0 Vertebrata uid fragments 14 1.49 53 N7E7 4 80 90 Vertebrata uid fragments 13 1.77 at least one likely bird 54 N7E7 5 90 100 Vertebrata uid fragments 13 0.98 55 N7E7 6 100 110 Zenaida sp. ulna 1 1 0.20 compares well with Zenaida asiatica 47 N7E7 3 70 80 Analysis done by Michelle LeFebvre

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438 Structure IV

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439 Midden

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440 Structure VI

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441 LIST OF REFERENCES Aberle, D. F. 1961 Matrilineal descent in cross cultural perspective In Matrilineal kinship edi ted by D. M. Schneider and K. Gough, pp. 65 5 727. University of California Press, Berkeley. Adshead, S. A. M. 1992 Salt and civilization St. Martin's Press, New York. Allaire, L. 1991 Understanding Suazey Proceedings of the Proceedings of the Thirte enth International Congress for Caribbean Archaeology :715 728. Willemstad, Curaao. Allsworth Jones, P. 2008 Pre Columbian Jamaica University of Alabama Press, Tuscaloosa. Altes, C. F. 2011a Going with the Flow: Circum Caribbean Currents, Canoes, Tr ade and Colonization Paper presented at the Southeastern Archaeological Conference, Jacksonville, FL. 2011b Spatial Organization in Ancient Puerto Rico: Rank Size Analysis of Saladoid Sites in South Central Puerto Rico and the Island of Vieques, Anthropology, University of Florida, Gainesville. Andrews, A. P. 1983 Maya salt production and trade University of Arizona Press, Tucson. Andrews, A. P. and S. B. Mock 2002 New Perspectives on the Prehispanic Maya Salt Trade In Ancient Maya polit ical economies edited by M. A. Masson and D. A. Freidel., pp. 307. AltaMira Press, Walnut Creek. Appadurai, A. 1986 Introduction: Commodities and Politics of Value In The Social Life of Things: Commodities in Cultural Perspective edited by A. Appa durai, pp. 3 62. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge. Astrup, P., P. Bie, H. C. Engell and J. Lines 1993 Salt and water in culture and medicine Munksgaard, Copenhagen. Barrett, J. C. 1994 Fragments from antiquity : an archaeology of social life i n Britain, 2900 1200 BC Blackwell, Oxford UK & Cambridge USA.

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442 1999 The Mythical Landscapes of the British Iron Age In Archaeologies of Landscape: Contemporary Perspectives edited by W. Ashmore and B. Knapp, pp. 253 265. Blackwell, Oxford. 2000 A Thesis on Agency In Agency in Archaeology edited by M. A. Dobres and J. E. Robb, pp. 61 68. Routledge, London. Barrett, J. C. and I. Ko 2009 A Phenomenology of Landscape: A Crisis in British Landscape Archaeology? Journal of Social Archaeol ogy 9:275 294. Barse, W. P. 2009 The Early Ronquin Paleosol and the Orinocan Ceramic Sequence. Bulletin of the Peabody Museum of Natural History 50(1):85 98. Basso, K. H. 1996 Wisdom Sits in Places: Notes on a Western Apache Landscape In Senses of Place edited by S. Feld and K. H. Basso, pp. 53 90. School of American Research, Santa Fe. Berman, M. J. and P. L. Gnivecki 1991 The Colonization f the Bahamas Archipelago. A view for the Three Dog Site, San Salvador Island Proceedings of the Proc eedings of the Fourthteenth Congress of the International Association for Caribbean Archaeology Barbados. 1995 The colonization of the Bahama archipelago: a reappraisal. World Archaeology 26(3):421 441. Berman, M. J. and C. D. Hutcheson 2000 Im pressions of a lost technology: A Study of Lucayan Tano Basketry. Journal of Field Archaeology 27(4):417 435. Binford, L. R. 1965 Archaeological Systematics and the Study of Culture Process. American Antiquity 31:203 210. Bitterman, M. 2010 Salted A manifesto on the world's most essential mineral, with recipes Ten Speed Press, Berkeley. Blitz, J. 1993 Big Pots for Big Shots: Feasting and Storage in a Mississippian Community. American Antiquity 58:80 96.

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471 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH Joost Mor sink is a social anthropologist who specialize s in archaeology with a regional focus on the Caribbean archipelago. His academic education has been in two d ifferent international programs and he received both Bachelor of Arts (2004) and M aster of Philosophy (2006) in archaeology from Leiden University, the Netherlands and his Ph.D. from the University of Florida (2012) He received multiple scholarships, including a Fulbright, a Prins Bernhard Cultuurfonds, a D issertation Improvement Grant from the National Science Foundation, an Elizab et h Eddy writing scholarship and Charles H. Fairbanks Dissertation award from the Department of Anthropology and the Bullen Award for Student Excellence in Florida/circum Caribbean Anthropology Research from the Florida Museum of Natural History Joost Morsi nk also contributed to peer reviewed journals, such as Caribbean Connections and shared his field research with a wider non academic public through publication in the popular magazine Times of the Islands His current research on the importance of food a n d exchange is the subject of a chapter in The Oxford Handbook of Caribbean Archaeology (in press). Furthermore, Joost has been an invited participant in multiple sessions at professional conferences and ga ined museum experience during his research assistan tship at the Florida Museum of Natural History Joost hold s the position of edit or of book reviews ( JCA ), assistant editor of the Oxfor d Handbook is a member of the Committee of the Americas, Society for American Archaeology and holds an Courtesy Assi stant Cur ator Pos ition at the Florida M us eum of Natural History