Unsolved Mysteries of the Sea
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They were alleged to have had some degree of telepathic communication, limited powers of telekinesis, and advanced knowledge science, mathematics, and astronomy. They were also believed to have possessed significant healing powers and medical and pharmaceutical skills — especially herbalism.
The legends referring to Lemurian powers of levitation, telepathy, and telekinesis are in harmony with much of what is hinted at in Lemurian Scrolls. Their advanced knowledge of maths, science, medicine, and astronomy is also compatible with the information given about Lemurians in those ancient mystical sources.
If Pele was a survivor from the destruction of Mu, and if she was one of the minority of Lemurians, the highly advanced, cultural, and technologic elite, might she have possessed enough telekinetic power to divert one or two lava streams, or to direct some of the dangerous floodwater resulting from the volcanic trauma?
Consider a geological phenomenon in which the continent of Mu is traumatized by earthquakes, volcanoes, or both. Some of the very powerful Mu-onian elite are able to escape, but they can only divert or delay tides of floodwater and blazing lava. Pele and a few others reach the mountaintops and highland areas of what is now the Hawaiian archipelago. Her powers are just about sufficient to play a positive role in saving lives and limiting damage during the chaos.
These interventions are witnessed by other survivors. Their accounts become part of the legend of Pele, goddess and controller of the volcano.
There are numerous other strange unsolved mysteries in Hawaii, a great many of them connected with the sea. Just as bleak inland areas, dark forests, and open wildernesses were the territory of legendary werewolves and vampires, so wild, white, dangerous waters became the habitat of shark-men and shark gods.
One of these legends concerns Kauhuhu, otherwise known to expert folklorists as the Molokai shark god. Sometimes the myth is retold as the story of Aikanaka which means man-eater. Aikanaka is the old name for Pukoo, a small harbour on Molokai.
One story of Kauhuhu begins with Kamalo, a priest whose temple was situated at Kaluaaha, a small village overlooking the narrow waterway separating Molokai and Maui. The mountain known as Eeke towered above Kaluaaha, and the priest’s two brave young sons enjoyed many adventures in the water and on the mountain’s steep, red slopes. Unfortunately, their boldness led them to the sacred enclosure — which was strictly taboo — belonging to a great chieftain and magician named Kupa. Kupa’s greatest magical skills lay in his “talking drums.” While he was away fishing, the two venturesome boys trespassed into his sacred enclosure and played his forbidden drums.
Servants and subjects of Kupa reported the boys to him, and he ordered the servants whose special role it was to provide his temple with sacrifices to kill the boys. They did. Kamalo heard of his sons’ deaths and went out to seek vengeance against Kupa. Kamalo’s problem was that Kupa was far more powerful than he was. Fear of Kupa prevented other priests, wise men and women, magicians, and prophets from helping Kamalo. They sympathized with his cause, but they were afraid to do anything to help him in case news of their involvement reached the deadly and vengeful Kupa. The most they did was to pass him on to the next wise man or woman.
At last, close to despair, Kamalo made his way down the precipitous slopes to the temple of the shark god, Kauhuhu. Here, the story was the same: the priest of the shark god refused to aid Kamalo because he was afraid of Kupa’s retribution — but he did direct Kamalo to a cave called Anaopuhi, the Cave of the Eels.
In Anaopuhi the legendary sea dragons known as Waka and Mo-o guarded the terrifying shark god, Kauhuhu.
The movements of the waves and surf played a significant role in legends of the shark god. In many western traditions, it is the seventh wave that is the largest or most magically important one. In the Hawaiian myths and legends it is the eighth wave that matters most.
According to Vincent Tylor, an expert on Lemuria and on the ancient, mystical art of card reading, the ace of hearts represents Lemuria, but the eight of hearts stands for Mu. Together they equal the nine of hearts, the trinity of trinities, the mystical square of three. This highly significant and symbolic number was also revered by the ancient Pythagoreans. They in turn were recognized by their contemporaries as magicians as well as mathematicians.
In ancient Egypt, the Brotherhood of the Knotted Rope were said to have been in great demand because they had access to the secret of creating a perfect right angle, which was essential for building vast temples, statues, and pyramids. They simply took three — the key to their secret — then added four and five to create a Pythagorean right-angled triangle. The square of three (the symbolic nine) added to the square of four (sixteen) gave the square of five (twenty-five). Nine plus sixteen equalled twenty-five and proved the Pythagorean theorem that the areas of the two small squares of a right-angled triangle equalled the area of the large square, the one constructed on the hypotenuse. It had not escaped these early mathematical explorers that the side of four units added to the side of five units also brought them back to their mysterious nine. Neither did it escape them that the digits two and five (making the twenty-five square units of the largest square) also added to make the mystical, magical seven that was a vital aspect of Pythagorean precepts.
So Vincent Tylor’s expert analysis of card symbolism is echoed by the old Pythagorean knowledge.
Co-author Lionel also teaches mathematics and discovered what is published as “Fanthorpe’s third constant.” This is highly relevant to the importance of three and the square of three.
Finding the length of the diagonal of a cube is normally a two-stage process. The diagonal of a face is found first using traditional Pythagorean geometry. The cube is then turned so that this diagonal of the face (XZ) becomes the base of another right-angled triangle (XYZ), the hypotenuse of which is the diagonal of the whole cube (XY). Fanthorpe’s third constant is the square root of three, an irrational number like the Greek π. When the side of the cube is multiplied by this square root of three, the answer is the diagonal of the cube — found by one swift simple calculation using Fanthorpe’s third constant.
Diagram of cube diagonal.
Back now from Pythagorean mathematics to the significance of the eighth wave in the legend of Kauhuhu, the awesome shark god. The eighth wave was so huge and so high that it broke right inside Anaopuhi, the Eelcave. From the deluge of its foaming crest strode Kauhuhu in his human form. Despite his terrifying power and raging anger, Kauhuhu was merciful to Kamalo and promised to help him avenge the deaths of his sons.
Once again, curious old number magic enters into this unsolved mystery of the Hawaiian sea. The shark god promised Kamalo that he, the great and terrible Kauhuhu, would be his kahu, or guardian, and ensure that Kupa was duly punished for killing Kamalo’s sons. Kauhuhu ordered Kamalo to collect four hundred black pigs, four hundred white chickens, and four hundred red fish. If the first four numbers most significant to numerologists are taken as one, three, seven, and nine, these numbers together add to twenty, and twenty squared is four hundred. To a numerologist it would also be significant that there were three groups of four hundred each and the creatures in groups represented air (the birds), water (the fish), and earth (the pigs). When the groups were complete, there were twelve hundred creatures altogether. Numerological technique adds the digits one, two, and the zeros to reach the magical three once more. The more closely this sea mystery of the shark god is analyzed, the more intriguing its numerology becomes.
Numerology is one of the more culturally advanced techniques of prediction and divination. It requires an above average level of number skills. It also requires a sophisticated capacity for abstract thought. The intricate numerology woven throughout the legend of Kamalo and Kauhuhu the shark god suggests that it originated in an advanced culture: Lemuria or Mu?
The shark god kept his promise to Kamalo by appearing one day as a small white cloud of a type Kamalo recognized as supernaturally strange. This white cloud grew alarmingly and hu
ge black clouds soon followed it, like some vast and terrifying army of the sky. Lightning flashed from the black cloud-warriors. The white cloud that was Kauhuhu, the shark god, led his destroyers to the head of the valley where Kupa ruled. From the enormous black clouds rain fell in torrents. Its power was irresistible. The sides of Kupa’s valley were devastated and washed down towards him and his doomed people. His sacred place, or heiau, was smashed to pieces by the flood, and Kupa and all his people were swept away into the sea by that thundering avalanche of mud and water.
But Kauhuhu had not yet finished with Kupa. The shark god had called all his shark-people to enjoy a memorable feast: they were waiting in the ocean where the avalanche plunged into the Pacific. Kupa, his family, and his disciples were eagerly devoured by Kauhuhu’s shark-people.
This event, or something very similar on which it was closely based, almost certainly took place in the area in the remote past. The small harbour near Kupa’s region is named Aikanaka, meaning the place of the man-eaters. The unsolved mystery of the sea associated with Aikanaka is how and why so many sharks gathered in the same place at the same time. Did they contact one another as whales and dolphins do? Did something external call them, or cause them to congregate there in Aikanaka? If so, was that something the same mysterious force the ancient Hawaiian legends call Kauhuhu, the shark god?
In addition to the legends and myths surrounding the shark god himself, other unsolved sea mysteries of the Pacific focus on lesser beings, the were-sharks. One of the most dangerous of these was known as Nanaue. In addition to Kauhuhu, there was another prominent shark leader known as Kamohoalii. Like Kauhuhu, Kamohoalii was able to appear in human form when it suited him. According to the legend of the birth of Nanaue, the were-shark, Kamohoalii saw a beautiful girl, Kalei, bathing in the surf as he swam below her in his shark shape.
That night, he assumed his human form and went in search of Kalei. He was tall, graceful, and powerful in this human form and soon won Kalei’s love. Soon after their wedding, she became pregnant with Kamohoalii’s son. Sadly he told her that he must go on a very long journey and would never be able to see her again. Then he gave the tearful young expectant mother strict instructions about the care of their son who was soon to be born. He never once let Kalei know that he was really Kamohoalii, King of the Sharks. His main instructions to Kalei were that the boy’s body would be unusual in some way and must be kept hidden. He also said that their son should never be allowed to eat meat.
When Nanaue was born, Kalei was anxious about an aperture in her son’s back, but she said nothing about it to anyone and kept it carefully covered with a kapa cloak. As he grew older, this aperture widened and deepened. Rows of sharp, predatory teeth grew inside it. It came to resemble the mouth of a shark, and Kalei became increasingly worried when Nanaue began to consume small birds, animals, and fish through this gruesome miniature shark’s mouth set into his back. His own feelings about his strange abnormality are not recorded in the mythology. It does, however, note that when young Nanaue went into the water, he assumed his full shark form and ate voraciously. Although she watched in horror, Kalei still had natural maternal feelings for her were-shark son.
Mysterious Wailua Falls on Kauai — the island of the were-shark legends.
Things took a fateful turn for the worse when Nanaue reached the age when he was regarded as an adult male. His grandfather, Kalei’s father, according to custom, took Nanaue to eat with the other men. Kalei could no longer control his diet, and Nanaue began to gorge himself on the meat dishes available in the men’s eating house. He was insatiable. There was no limit to his appetite for meat, and the more meat he devoured, the more he resembled his carnivorous aquatic father.
The first climax came when his kapa cape was torn from his back during seasonal work on the taro areas where food was grown by the residents of Waipio. Cries of horror and alarm echoed from the crowd of villagers. Nanaue fought them on all sides, severing a limb here, crushing a skull there. Dealing out mayhem all around him, he fought his way towards the sea. Despite his strength and razor sharp teeth, the villagers trapped him, but he escaped. He was later recaptured and killed.
David Richarde, the bishop of Hawaii for the Interdenominational Templar Church, has a very deep, expert knowledge of cetaceans, and of dolphin intelligence and communication in particular. The authors had the pleasure and privilege of meeting Bishop David and his family when we were carrying out research for this volume and filming in Kauai in January 2004. Dolphins are one of the sea’s greatest unsolved mysteries. Just how intelligent are they? And how can their intelligence be measured?
Brain size is positively correlated with intelligence, but size is not the only factor. Dolphins have very large brains — bigger than human brains, in fact. The number of convolutions of the outer cortex of the brain — the structure that gives it its walnut-like appearance — is also positively correlated with intelligence, and dolphins have highly convoluted cerebral cortices.
In order to analyze brain function and intelligence in any depth, it’s useful to describe its topography. Mammalian brains — like ours — have a paleocortex as a foundation. This is very similar to the brain of a fish, a reptile, or an amphibian. It’s pretty basic, and is usually referred to as the rhinic lobe, because it was once thought to relate primarily to the sense of smell. The Greek word rhinos means nose. This is more or less encapsulated, or overlaid, by the limbic lobe, named from the Latin word limbus, meaning an edge, fence, or border. Above these two is the supralimbic lobe, and surrounding all three is the neocortex — an immensely complicated net, or canopy, of intertwined brain cells. According to current neurological science, our thoughts, problem-solving intelligence, and emotional feelings are all generated somewhere in here. A few more centuries of research may lead to different conclusions.
Arthur Koestler (1905–1983), the brilliant Hungarian-born writer and philosopher, deservedly captured a hugely enthusiastic readership with Darkness at Noon (1940), The Ghost in the Machine (1967), and The Roots of Coincidence (1972). Koestler was fascinated by unsolved mysteries — especially mysteries of the mind and brain. On one occasion he argued that when a psychiatrist invites a client to lie down on the couch, he is inviting him to lie down beside a horse and a crocodile. There could be no better way to sum up the functions of the three-fold human brain.
When brains and intelligence are being compared among different species, there are researchers who believe that it is possible to observe and measure the relative levels of primary sensory processing — how much of the brain is concerned with what is seen, heard, tasted, smelled, and touched — and associative ability — how much of the brain is used for associative skills, cognition, and problem solving, otherwise known as general intelligence. According to some researchers in this field, a rat uses nine-tenths of its brain for sensory processing, and only one-tenth for problem solving. A cat uses approximately one-half for each. The higher anthropoid apes use about one-quarter sensory to three-quarters problem solving. Human beings in these researches averaged one-tenth sensory, which leaves us with nine-tenths for problem solving — an approximate reversal of the rat’s ratio. In this set of comparisons, human beings seem well ahead of our mammalian rivals, but the picture is significantly changed when we compete brain-for-brain with cetaceans such as dolphins. Their cetacean brains have an extra cortical lobe that we just haven’t got!
No IQ tests have yet been devised that would enable the researcher to compare human intelligence with, say, whale or dolphin intelligence, but the incredible fact remains that if we base our assumptions of species intelligence on the relative proportions of how much brain is used for sensory functions and how much is left spare for thinking and problem solving, the cetaceans look as if they might score ten or twenty times our human score! This apparent anomaly has to be balanced by considering the factors we describe as manipulation, technology, and tool-making. Human beings are manipulators. Cetaceans are not.
Yet anoth
er factor that suggests high intelligence in association with the brain structure of dolphins is that they have something that appears to be a sense of humour. Dolphins are undeniably playful, and are frequently observed to behave in ways that suggest they possess a well-developed and sophisticated sense of humour. Dr. Sterling Bunnell has been quoted as suggesting that playfulness and humour are indicators of high intelligence.
It was a pleasure and privilege for us to be able to interview Bishop David Richarde on Kauai recently, and we are very grateful to him for his kind permission to include a number of his exciting ideas about the mystery of the cetaceans in this chapter. In addition to his specialized knowledge of cetacean intelligence, Bishop David is an expert on the mysteries associated with the Graal, the enigma of the Arcadian treasure, and what he refers to in one of his deeply moving philosophical poems as “Arcadian Memory.” The influence of his communication with the cetaceans he so loves and admires comes through powerfully in his poems:
… something more than Life’s presence takes over.
Breathless sigh … faint to the threshold …
Child of the Universe, no more, no less.
You are returned before all illusion of pain existed,
All illusion of separation, all illusion of time and space.
Referring to the awesome tones of the cetaceans he has studied and admired for so long, David also writes in “Adonaisai: for and by Cerulean Cetacean”:
By this Tone the Touch of Reception
May return to All,
And that Love reside in the Sharing
Of the Blue Paradise Triune.
When we interviewed Bishop David about his encounters with cetaceans, he said: