Songs of Thalassa

by Brian Tissot

  As she lay shivering in the dark cave, her body was warmed by sunlight breaking through a hole in the roof and the blinding light brought her out of her dream. Opening her eyes, she felt palpably lighter, refreshed, and the numbness had faded. The memories of her tutu’s life had given her newfound strength. She stumbled to her feet, then slowly shuffled outside into the bright sunlight. It was a sunny day with no clouds in sight. The air smelled fresh, cleansed by the rain, and a strong wind greeted her with the smell of the Thalassian sea. Exhausted from her ordeal, she collapsed on the empty beach and fell back to sleep in the warm sand.

  The violent dream returned. But the path was clear, and with no indecision, Sage ran through the maze onto the dark, stormy sea. Instead of waiting for a wave to pull her under, she dove beneath the surface and swam into the darkness, seeking out the light. It was time to face her fear. And although dread gripped her heart as she approached the light, she felt the strength and spirit of her tutu pushing her on. Now she would face the darkness within herself. She wouldn’t turn back. She was determined to find the source of the deepest fear in her life; she was ready to confront the one fear she had not faced, the one she had not conquered. She was more deeply afraid now than she’d ever felt at the terror of riding the biggest wave in the ocean. What folly, she thought, to live conquering the boundless power of the ocean when the fear was within me!

  As she peered through the blinding light, an image emerged and became clear, shocking her in its power and simplicity. She saw herself! But it wasn’t a mirror. The Sage in the light radiated spirit, strength, and love. Oh my god, what mana, what powerful aloha! The Sage in the light knew what she wanted and would do anything to achieve her goals; she would use her intellect, her wisdom, her love—indeed, her very life. The source of her greatest fear was becoming the Sage in the light. Now, the question that remained was if she dared to do it. Can I pass through the fear of becoming that Sage? What does the woman in the light want? Who is Hōkūlani e ho‘āla i ka moana?

  Chapter 18.

  Home Island

  Lying on the beach with her eyes closed, she felt her body lightly touching the sand. A cool, crisp wind blew across her face and through her hair, the smell strong with the scent of the sea and mixed with something else, something familiar that she couldn’t quite identify, like the smells of a pasture filled with fish. Waves crashed on the beach, their gentle rhythm soothing her mind. But she could also hear breathing, in fact, a chorus of breathing. She opened her eyes and looked up into a dawn sky, dark with a tinge of blue on the horizon. As she watched, a meteorite flew across her field of vision. Then another. The area erupted in squeals and whistles, and she bolted upright.

  Six Nesoi were surrounding her, their heads like spokes in a wheel. Closest to her was Maka. On the other side, a larger one, which she recognized from her distinct markings and the familiar brown spots on her face and chin as Maka’s close companion. “Hi, Mother,” she said, and the Nesoi turned her head to look at her as if acknowledging her words.

  Sage’s face was wet, her throat felt raw, and her body weak. Next to her was a pile of fresh pika, deposited in a small heap. She grabbed a few and pushed them into her mouth, ravenous after not having eaten for two days. Enjoying the feeling of contentment and safety within the protective circle of the Nesoi, she lay back down and closed her eyes, savoring the moment as questions flashed through her head. What are they doing? Comforting me? Is that possible? How would they even know? Then, remembering the meteorites, she sat up. Time to get going!

  The Nesoi were all heading back into the water except for the mother and Maka. Although her arms and upper torso were still weak from her encounter with the jellies, Sage felt solid, intact, whole. She could barely feel the old surfing injuries in her arms and back, and the absence of pain was liberating. Despite a lingering fear of the unknown, she felt joyful. Then she jumped up and threw out her arms and screamed to the ocean. “What a gorgeous day!”

  She realized she felt happy for the first time in many months, years perhaps. Despite her precarious position, and being alone, most of her daily worries had evaporated; no more competition, no Milo, no pressure to surf a bigger wave. Here she could just be, and her dreams were giving her strength and guidance toward something else. It became clear that when her father died, she was driven to prove her worth to the world—or maybe to him. But as she pushed the envelope, the ocean pushed back. “No, you will go no further!” Kanaloa was saying. “You cannot beat me. It’s time to follow your life’s path.”

  As she thought of her father, it brought back memories of her childhood, and the feelings evoked his song from her 13th birthday, just before he left for Thalassa. She began to sing as tears came to her eyes. But they were tears of joy, tears of thankfulness for having been loved by him.

  You know, life is what you do

  I know, love is strong with you

  The sea is, deep and strong

  You know, you belong

  As her beautiful voice pierced the air, it grew in intensity from a tremulous whisper to a rich crescendo. She smiled, enjoying the lyrics and music from her father, while the Nesoi on the beach turned their heads, captivated by the sounds. Other Nesoi were popping up in the surf to listen. A few at first but dozens by the end of the song.

  So when I’m far away

  It’s just another day

  And if you’re missing me

  Hear my music in the trees

  No matter where you are

  Look up and see our star

  And in your dark nights

  I’ll be your shining light—

  But she couldn’t finish the rest of the song bottled up inside her. Even so, after singing part of it, she felt a release. She hadn’t been able to sing the song for years, although it was her favorite. The emotion around the loss of her father, and her childhood, always welled up within her, choking off her voice. It felt good to finally say some of the words, to express his love and support, and to remember those joyful times in her life.

  She stood up, turned around to face the warm morning sun and raised her arms into the sky. “Good morning, Thalassa!”

  Feeling joyous, she dashed into the sea and swam out past the surf, porpoising up and down in the water while enjoying the freedom of swimming with a newfound lightness in her heart. Maka joined her, swimming opposite and up and down as if playing a game of hide-and-seek. Soon, their movements became a dance with a series of long, graceful arcs, the Nesoi arching her long snout, back, and tail to match Sage’s movements.

  As they swam, Maka began to add sounds—a repetition of deep moans pierced by wails of various pitches—then she repeated her notes, a bit differently each time. Over time, the dissonant tune began to sound more melodic. Initially, Sage was confused as all the Nesoi songs were so harmonious. But as the sounds coalesced into a beautiful ballad, the Nesoi’s methods became clear. Maka’s improvising! She’s composing a musical backdrop to our dance. How amazing!

  Sage was surprised by the Nesoi’s musical skills and their easy synchronicity. But the notes in the water were more than sound. She felt them moving through her, coalescing to form waves of emotion. While they swam, warmth spread to her arms and legs, and her hands tingled. It’s like finding a long-lost friend, and it feels eerily familiar. But she eventually got tired, returned to the beach, and began exploring the new island. Got to keep moving!

  The Nesoi followed her in the surf, fascinated by her movements. The new island was a larger version of the previous one, complete with a rocky, volcanic top and sandy beaches on both sides. As she headed along the beach, the center of the island rose high to a sharp jutting ridge. An hour’s walk later, the ridge peaked into a flat plateau, forming the highest point on the island—she estimated about 300 feet high. She scrambled up the steep rocky slope, being careful to avoid falling into the numerous caves and skylights that dotted the ridge, and pull
ed herself onto the natural lookout.

  Looking back, she observed the long, narrow beach she had traversed tapering down to the channel and beyond to the island to the south where she had lived for the last few weeks. Offshore she could see a drop-off into deep water, with a few brown heads diving and surfacing on the edge. Probably Nesois feeding on pika or small mantis squid, she thought.

  Looking north, she saw the beach continued for a few miles until it encountered another channel with a larger island on the other side. Beyond that one, she could barely make out a much larger island in the background that blocked her view to the north. Walking to the other side of the plateau, she saw a string of volcanoes on the horizon, their tops covered in dark clouds. The inland sea was wide, several miles at least, and dotted with small sand islands and the ever-present white jellies. She could now see the mainland, which was all cliffs and beaches. Then she noticed that the inland sea narrowed to the bigger island, the second one up in the chain. That’s it. If I can get to that island, maybe I can cross to the mainland. I’ll be safe there until I’m rescued.

  After climbing carefully back down to the beach, she walked for another hour before reaching the northern end of the island. She frowned at the rushing torrent of water separating her from the next island. Sitting down, she watched the channel for the rest of the day, waiting for changes with the tide and silently cursing at the large white jellies flying by in the current as she thought about her dilemma. “Back home,” she said to herself, “I’d just jump in and swim across; the hell with the jellies. But here, all alone, and after my last crossing experience, I’m too chicken to do it.” Damn, I’m trapped.

  She watched several Nesoi swimming in the surf, gracefully riding along the length of the wave as it keeled over on the beach. It looked more like surfing than swimming, although they occasionally slashed the surface with their long snouts and sharp teeth, emitting whistles and high-frequency shrieks into the air. She thought they were communicating with their whistles, as their sounds elicited changes in the behavior of nearby animals. In one instance, she saw two Nesoi ripping through the surf, apparently driving a school of pika through the fronds before them and into the waiting mouths of two others. Later, the group switched roles. They were hunting cooperatively, as she had seen them do before, but they also appeared to be whistling signals to each other to coordinate their movements. So smart.

  In the afternoon, the tide dropped, and the channel narrowed significantly, but the jelly-filled torrent remained over 100 feet wide. She thought about the phases of Lona, but after her previous experiences, she decided to watch and wait a few days before trying to cross to the next island.

  While searching for a new source of drinking water, she found a large cave that led off into the darkness. Saving her light for emergencies, she waited in the dark for her eyes to adjust to the glow of the bioluminescent cave walls. Sure enough, the outline of a deep cave emerged through the darkness. As she walked slowly, the faint light guided her deeper into the cave while she looked for signs of a spring. The echoed sound of water surging through a cave below caught her attention. Dropping down into the cave, she emerged into a large chamber with a hole in the floor. Water, apparently connected to the ocean, was moving up and down the hole through a dimly lit vertical shaft. She smiled as she saw fresh water dripping down the rock wall.

  As she drank from the spring and filled her small water bottle, she was startled by a loud splash when a large Nesoi popped up in the vertical shaft next to her. Surfacing, she let out a familiar whistle and looked directly at Sage as if asking a question.

  “Well, hello there, ah…Mom!” Sage responded, recognizing the familiar Nesoi that saved her. Her voice prompted the animal to turn her head. “Huh, ‘Mom’ won’t do. Let’s call you…” She thought back to her mythology class. “Ah, yes, Melia, the Oceanid, yes! Melia was the daughter of Oceanus and Tethys, divine beings. You look pretty divine to me. You’re probably the head of your family. The matriarch, I bet.” As Sage spoke to the Nesoi—now Melia—she alternately looked at Sage then down into the water below her.

  “You want me to come with you underwater? Gee, I’m not ready for that. I have my breather but, well, maybe another time.” As Sage shook her head, Melia turned and quickly dove below the surface. Sage sat staring at the water-filled hole for a minute, stunned by the encounter but also by how natural their interaction felt. It was like they were new friends speaking different languages, but learning to understand each other. But how did she find me in these caves?

  As she turned to leave, vertical lines on the glowing phosphoric walls caught her attention. They appeared to be deliberate scratches created in the living matrix of the wall, and they weren’t random. Some were a mixture of several marks, while others simply varied in the direction and style of the lines. As she spun around, she noticed markings covering the entire cavern. Fascinated but unable to ascertain their significance, she shrugged and climbed out of the cave.

  Minutes later as she emerged into the warm sunlight, she saw a large group of Nesoi splashing in the water in front of her. As she watched, their jerky movements were unusual, and they were diving down and surfacing every few seconds. She could hear their whistles, which sounded unnaturally high. What are they stressed about? she wondered. Melia’s head popped up in the surf, and she came waddling up to her on the beach. Again, she heard a familiar whistle, a “tweet peep peep wheeet,” which she interpreted as “Sage,” followed by a glance at the water.

  “You want me to follow you? All right, I’m coming.” They ran down the beach together and swam over to the milling group of animals. Sage grabbed a breath and dove underwater to witness a stunning sight. Amid sounds of rapid clicks and creaks, she saw a pile of yellow rope, weighed down by a metal piece of the lander, with a large Nesoi entangled in its chaotic coils. The rope was coiled tight around its arms and legs and it was thrashing around with its tail, struggling to get loose. Sage saw flared nostrils and eyes bulging with fear. The other Nesoi were biting the rope and trying to pull it to the surface, but they didn’t have the dexterity or knowledge to untangle her. Although Sage was excited to see a remnant of the Da Bull’s ladder, she was concerned for the well-being of the trapped Nesoi.

  Surfacing, she grabbed her breather and her knife and dove back down to help. She touched the Neosi and looked into its eyes, giving her a reassuring nod, which visibly calmed the animal. The other Nesoi stopped and watched as she began cutting the rope away. It was slow-going and hard work to undo the tangled mess around the animal. But it had relaxed and watched her while she worked.

  After 10 minutes, the Nesoi was loose from the rope and quickly shot to the surface and took a deep breath. But instead of swimming away she moved toward Sage, rubbing up against her. Sage froze, not sure how to react to the creature touching her. But the gentle rubbing of the soft fur, the emotional look in the newly freed Nesoi’s eyes, and the light caresses of the other Nesoi around her caused her to relax. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes as intense warmth flooded her body. Surrounded and touched by the large, compassionate creatures, Sage began weeping with joy. They were connecting with her, trying to express their gratitude, and she could feel it. All the while they were making their sounds for her, “tweet peep peep wheeet,” over and over.

  In a watershed moment, Sage realized the Nesoi were highly sentient creatures with human-like emotions: empathy, compassion, gratitude, and love. Her scientific beliefs had held her back from those conclusions, but deep in her heart, and with a new openness, she couldn’t help but believe it was true. These were conscious beings! They sang songs, had individual personalities, and formed tight-knit family groups. They hunted cooperatively and understood sadness and grief. Importantly, they had saved her, protected her, showed her compassion and now gratitude. And they were highly intelligent. Yes, and Melia knew where to find Sage in that cave. Just maybe, I shouldn’t judge them on what human emotions the
y show because they may have intelligence beyond my capability to understand. Something simply beyond words.

  She noticed the liberated Nesoi had two spots behind her right eye. “I’ll call you Two-Spot.”

  As she swam back to the beach, her breathing device slipped off her neck and plummeted to the sandy bottom. Before she had a chance to retrieve it, Two-Spot swam down and carried it back in her teeth. Sage laughed and threw it back underwater, and again the Nesoi retrieved it. “She fetches!” she said with a laugh, and they played the game for a while. On the way in, Sage caught a wave. As she slid down the glassy swell, Two-Spot popped in next to her while pumping her tail up and down and shared the ride. As the wave crashed on the shore and both heads emerged from the water next to each other, Sage stared wide-eyed at Two-Spot. “Are you kidding me? You surf too?” She laughed hysterically and swam back out into the surf with Two-Spot close behind to catch a few more waves.

  At sunset, she sat high up on the beach as the tide rushed up toward her. Basking in Procyon’s orange-red light, the unique beauty of Thalassa was sinking in. The white beaches and yellow rocky ridges faded into a low-hanging mist in the distance. The sounds of breaking waves and a chorus of whistles from Nesoi playing in the surf blended with a splash as a school of pika jumped from the water. For the first time, Sage felt the heartbeat of the planet moving through her. Basking in the warmth of Procyon, she felt the flow of energy from the sun, to the wind, to the waves, and through all living creatures. And even though she was alien to this planet, she felt connected; she was at home and at peace with herself. What does that say about the universe? How can I be part of Thalassa when I am also part of Earth?

  Leaning back, she felt a newfound lightness in her body. For the first time in many years, she felt love from being part of an ‘ohana. The Nesoi had adopted her, and now they were family. Looking back at her past life, her struggles to surf giant waves seemed like folly. Her ultimate surfing goal, she realized, was to prove her love for her dad. But she couldn’t get past his death, which had created a wedge with her family. But, oh, as she felt waves of warmth spreading through her body, how she had missed feeling part of a family, of being loved. Still, she missed the warm embrace of her ‘ohana, for their love was what she truly wanted. But the Nesoi loved her unconditionally, even though she had caused an injury to one of them. If they could do that, perhaps so could her ‘ohana. The Nesoi appeared to have a deep sense of aloha, and she was blown away by the strength of their love and generosity. They take care of their own.