♀
Since the current and sails were now doing the majority of the work rigorous paddling was not strictly needed, however it became a test of strength and stamina to keep at it, and so everyone continued. No one considered stopping, and the longer they paddled the more determined they all became to outlast everyone onboard. To be the victor would be a great honor and worthy of many stories.
Ke’alohi was growing tired though he’d never admit it. The steady ache that started in his right shoulder was now a stabbing pain, though it was still early in the afternoon. Despite the discomfort he paddled on doggedly, determined to match his more seasoned brothers that sailed with him. His greatest fear was to disappoint them.
Being new to the open ocean, Ke’alohi was unaware that everyone was now in excruciating pain. He was under the impression that he was suffering alone. His crewmates kept their faces carefully passive, not wanting to admit their own weakness, nor bear the shame of having Ke’alohi outlast them on his very first voyage.
Ke’pena however, knew his crew was tired, and understood the seasoned sailor’s need to beat Ke’alohi. If the Prince was not aboard, he would have let them continue, just to see if Ke’alohi was as strong as everyone suspected. But Prince Io’lana, who was sitting directly in front of the captain, was beginning to lag and it would be ill luck to shame him on his marriage voyage. It would open them all up to misfortune.
“Halt!” Ke’pena ordered loudly, and everyone aboard acted as if they had been cheated of victory. A good-natured argument ensued over who would truly have paddled the longest. Finally, Me’lei laughed and clapped Ke’alohi on the back, the young man was strong indeed.
“Time to eat,” Ke’pena announced and gratefully lowered his own paddle into the bottom of the canoe.
Every man on the boat immediately obeyed, happy to be done with the tedious work of paddling for at least a little while. Even though they were no longer propelling the craft forward with their muscles, the current and the wind still drove them westward at a good clip. Most of the veteran sailors climbed from their places in the wa’a and stretched on the deck, but those less experienced remained seated in the canoes eating smoked fish, bananas and fried breadfruit. Li’liha and Eli’kapika happily jumped up on deck where they hauled in the long trolling lines they’d cast behind the boat. They were hoping for fresh fish, and to their good fortune they snagged two yellow fins and a large albacore. It was a good early sign that the gods blessed their voyage.
Blessed or not, Ke’alohi was very happy Ke’pena had called for a rest. He was spent, and was almost to the point of giving up. He took a handful of breadfruit from Me’lei and ate it where he sat. He loved the feel of the canoe around him. The bench he occupied was polished smooth, and even dimpled from the hundreds of behinds that had sat there before him. The wa’a wa’a was large and old, very old, but it was still seaworthy and carried with it the reputation of unwavering luck, and that was all that mattered.
Ke’alohi ate his fruit and smoked fish quietly, while the men on the deck gutted and cleaned the albacore. All the men were laughing and chatting animatedly, happy to be away from the duties of land for a time.
“So Io’lana,” Pei’pono began. He was the second youngest man on the voyage, just a year older than Ke’alohi, but he was a strong paddler and already considered a decent sailor. “They say the Princess Ma’hine is very beautiful. You’ve seen her, is the talk true?”
Io’lana smiled. “I’ve not seen her for several years, and she was young then…just a girl, but she stood tall and straight with long brown legs. She was thin but her hips were already starting to spread. She will be big and healthy and give me many sons,” Io’lana replied confidently.
The men ate and rested for nearly an hour then, without a command, Li’liha threw the trolling lines back out behind the wa’a wa’a, and the rest made their way to their positions. Ma’lo and Kai’lani remained on deck, lounging in the sun. Most of the men refrained from paddling, their arms still rubbery from their earlier exertions, but a few of the younger sailors took up their paddles, having recovered quickly. But before any of them began to stroke, Mo’nana broke into song and soon all the men were singing lustily along, a few paddling in rhythm with the tune.
Not even an hour had passed before they received their second favorable portent. A large pod of Nai’a, or dolphins, suddenly appeared, playfully racing next to the wa’a wa’a. The men hollered greetings as their visitors vied with one another for position, at times jumping clear out of the water in their exuberance. The men sang louder to cheer them on, for the Nai’a were very important to the people of the islands. It was said that man and the Nai’a shared a common ancestor in the distant past, before the father of the Nai’a wisely decided to find his freedom in the sea, rather than living captive on the rocky islands. It was a freedom many of the men in the wa’a wa’a envied.
Without truly deciding to, the men of the boat, including Ke’alohi, began to paddle faster, bent on racing their sea going cousins, and soon all the men were back in position and taking up the cause. Of course the Nai’a were much faster, and had no trouble keeping up with the large boat.
Ke’alohi was fascinated with the visitors. From time to time, Nai’a would swim into the protected lagoon, and some even told stories of the ocean men approaching close enough to touch, but Ke’alohi had never been so lucky. In the past, he’d caught sight of them in the distance as they swam by, but he’d never had the good fortune to be this close. He wanted desperately to touch one, for it was considered very good luck, but every time he tried, the nearby Nai’a would dart away. Still, he was happy to get a good look, and was truly awed by their power and grace. He was even a little jealous and wondered what it would be like to be a child of the sea.
The pod played and jumped with the wa’a wa’a for over an hour before disappearing into the depths of the sea without warning. The men shouted goodbyes to their watery friends. They laughed and spoke of their personal experiences during the recent visit. Pei’pono was fortunate enough to touch one, as was Io’lana, and this too was seen as a favorable sign for his upcoming marriage. Throughout the rest of the afternoon they paddled and spoke of the Nai’a, Kai’lani retelling the tale of their creation. They rested once more in the evening before paddling on until nightfall.
With the coming dark the men put aside their paddles and climbed aboard the decking. They sprawled out on their backs and watched the stars slowly come alive in the night sky. Kai’lani and Ka’pena pointed out the guide stars, for they were the best navigators on the island, while the rest were lulled to sleep by the gentle rocking of the boat.
Excited to be on his first real voyage, Ke’alohi stayed awake late into the night and so was fortunate enough to see the lovely Mahine rise above the eastern horizon. Her face was nearly full and very bright, and she spread her silvery blanket over the swelling waves, as if protecting them all. The ocean, like a loving mother, rocked the wa’a wa’a into the night, gradually lulling the entire crew to sleep, everyone content to rest in her gently swaying arms.
♀
Ke’alohi woke the next morning just before sunrise as the sky in the east was slowly changing from purple to dark blue. Eli’kapika was snoring loudly next to him, slowly rocking from side to side with the movements of the wa’a wa’a. Ka’pena was the only other man awake. He was sitting quietly at his place in the rear of the canoe, eyes closed and his hands dangling limply in the water.
Ke’alohi gingerly stood. The sea was up and the boat was rising and falling with the growing swell. He glanced at Ka’pena and then studied the brightening sky overhead. It was cloudless all the way east to the rising sun. In the west however, countless stars were hidden from view.
“It will be a hard day,” Ka’pena said softly and Ke’alohi shifted his attention to the captain of the boat.
“Will there be a storm?” Ke’alohi asked, only slightly worried.
Ka’pena shrugged and held up his wet ha
nds. “Moana will not say, but the stream of her blood has brought us far, too far to return home safely if the ‘ino reaches us.”
Before Ke’alohi could reply Pei’pono stood and began pissing off the front of the deck, his stream loud and strong. The urge to join him filled Ke’alohi, so he rapidly crossed the moving deck to stand by his side. Soon every man in the boat was up and relieving himself gratefully into vast ocean of water.
Ke’alohi continued well after everyone was finished, only stopping when Li’liha slapped him hard on the back. The sound of urination abruptly stopped and everyone laughed.
“Not everything’s a competition Ke’alohi,” Me’lei scolded though he could not entirely hide the envy he felt for the strapping young man. In his youth Me’lei could pee farther and longer than any from the village, but with age his stream had grown steadily weaker and inconsistent. ‘It will not be long before it just drips from my ule while I stand and curse like the old men of the island.’ He thought, but then shrugged. It was the way of things.
“You piss much longer and old Maui will consider it a challenge,” he quipped, “you don’t want him to piss on our island until it sinks in the sea like Pu’pulia do you?”
Ke’alohi just smiled and shook his head, though he did take a quick glance about, looking for any sign of Maui, the trickster god. Thankfully the sea around them remained empty as the men once more took up their positions. They were already paddling the craft rapidly to the west when Mahana finally broke the horizon and lit the top of the sea with his warm smiling face.
“Ha! Maui would not be threatened by the feats of men,” Kon’ala argued, his thoughts still on the pissing contest. “Now if we were women, perhaps then he would notice us.”
The men laughed. The god Maui was a well-known hero and trickster, but had a weakness for beautiful women.
“Yes, tell us of Maui and his love of women, Me’lei,” Pei’pono begged. Aside from being a fine singer, Me’lei was also a much-admired storyteller. He spent much of his free time surrounded by children, thirsting for a tale. Soon all the men were extolling Me’lei to tell a story to help pass the time.
Finally Me’lei agreed and called for quiet. The men hastily fell silent until only the splashing of their paddles and the wind in the sails broke the stillness.
“Well, you all know how Maui brought fire to the People by stealing the secret of the wai’mea tree from the mud hens of Lani,” he began and everyone barked out in agreement, for it was a well-known story.
“What you may not have heard is the story of how the hens exacted their revenge,” Me’lei added, his voice dripping with mystery. The men all acted surprised and curious though each had heard the story countless times in their lives; even so everyone had a part to play if the storytelling was to be successful. Me’lei paused for several moments, letting the tension build as the men paddled expectantly across the open ocean.
“The Mother of hens,” he began slowly, “was very angry at Maui and his trickery after he stole the secret of fire, but once it was out she could think of no way to bottle it up again. This was a time when the lands of the moku floated very close together in the vastness of moana, so close that a thousand islands were visible from every beach. Such a thing made sharing the secret of fire very easy for the mortal men of the Papa lands. Soon the tendrils of fire were rising up from every moku.
“The Mother hen despaired. Fire was loose in the world, the smoke of her secret rising up and marring the sky paradise that was Lani. It was a very sad time for the gods, and they all cried out against Maui, who only laughed at their misfortune. But the Mother hen was patient.”
Me’lei paused again giving the men time to image the world where the moku rode the waves of moana close together and not spread to the ends of the vast ocean.
“One night, many makahiki later, the hens were gazing down at the points of light that dotted the moku like stars and spied Maui. The trickster god was dangling a rope made from his mother’s hair into the water. Curious they called to the Mother hen. The Mother quickly realized that Maui was hunting the great fish Leuhu on the sacred night of lono. If he was successful, he would be able to draw the lands of the sea even closer together. The hens despaired, for this would make the smoke from the fires even more unbearable.
‘What should we do?’ they cried.
‘Warn Leuhu,’ the Mother hen answered, but it was too late. Maui, the trickster, had already snagged the big fish on the end of his rope of hair and was pulling the islands together.
“The hens cried out in misery,” Me’lei announced, his voice rising against the swell of the sea. The men sat silent, saying nothing just paddling their wa’a wa’a to the west, completely lost in the story. Me’lei waited...and waited some more.
“What happened next?” Ke’alohi blurted and all the men teased him good-naturedly for being so young and impatient, though in truth they were all engrossed in Me’lei’s story, and wanted to hear the end just as badly.
Me’lei smiled, relishing the telling. “Well, the Mother hen could stomach Maui’s tricks no more, and so she flew from her perch in Lani and glided quickly down from the heavens. She settled on the beach near Maui, but appeared not as the Mother hen; instead she came in the guise of a beautiful woman.”
The men hooted as they paddled and shouted encouragement for Me’lei to go on.
“A beautiful woman with breasts as firm and round as the most luscious pomelo, and hips so wide she could bear a thousand sons,” Me’lei added with hardly a smirk.
“Her hair was long and black and floated down her back, all the way to her perfect knees. Her eyes sparkled brighter than any star in the sky. She said not a word as she walked gracefully across the beach, her hips swaying in time with the night breeze. Maui was transfixed and could not take his eyes from her, but still he would not let Leuhu swim free. He continued to pull the islands closer as he gawked at the approaching vision. It was not until the woman dropped her pa’u and revealed her own little slice of the heavens that Maui’s concentration faltered. Entranced, he turned to face the woman and the rope of hair broke, setting Leuhu free. The islands began drifting apart again, but Maui hardly noticed. He moved toward the woman, wanting and needing her, but before he could even feel the touch of her skin she transformed back into the Mother hen.
‘You have failed Maui,’ the Mother hen clucked. ‘Leuhu is free and this time he will push the islands so far apart you will never snare them all again.’
Maui frowned and was very saddened, but not for the loss of the fish, or the islands, instead he mourned for his lost love, the beautiful woman with no name.”
Me’lei fell silent for just a moment as the men paddled on.
“And the islands have been drifting apart ever since, which is why we must travel so far for Io’lana’s bride.” He quipped and immediately the boat erupted in laughter and hoots. A few men cast envious glances toward the fortunate young prince, for it was a very well told story, and now Ma’hine, Io’lana’s bride, would be forever linked in their minds with Maui’s beautiful lost woman.
♀
Much to the delight of the men, the pod of dolphins returned in the late morning, but they didn’t stay long because the sea was choppy and the wa’a wa’a could not maintain the speed of the previous day. Ka’pena was growing concerned by moana’s continued restlessness, but most of the crew hardly noticed, at least not until a dark bank of clouds appeared on the horizon to their south. Li’liha was the first to point out the ‘ino moving their way, but there was little they could do but keep sailing and paddling to the west. They were too far out to return home before the weather hit. They would just have to trust the gods to watch over them.
They continued on for nearly an hour before the wind shifted, blowing strongly from the south. Ka’pena adjusted the square sails, but they were nearly useless when the wind was not at their back. Without a word he studied the approaching storm.
“Doesn’t look too bad,” Eli’kapika sa
id hopefully, but Ka’pena refrained from commenting. The sea was growing steadily rougher, though they were still able to make headway. He hoped the dark cloudbank was just a strong squall that would drench them and then pass by. However, the swells continued to grow through the early afternoon, until finally the winds began to truly howl.
‘This is no squall,’ Ka’pena thought, nagged by his first doubts. He ordered the sails down before the first drops hit them, and not long after that two large baskets filled with rocks were tossed over the side to anchor the wa’a wa’a down. Every man now scrambled into position and began using their paddles to help keep the bow pointed into the wind and waves.
Just before the storm truly hit, the wind suddenly went calm. Some of the younger men took heart at this, but the older, more seasoned sailors realized that they were in for a tough night. The rain hit them suddenly, with large drops falling so hard and fast that it was difficult to breathe at times, and then the wind returned with a fury, bringing lightning and thunder with it.
The wa’a wa’a was a capable ship and had withstood countless gales through the years, but this storm was not a common one. The wind tore at them and the waves grew steadily larger until even Ka’pena could not believe their size. All through the early afternoon the brave crew fought to keep the craft pointed directly into the fury. Up and down they rode the waves, those in front taking the brunt of the punishment as angry water rolled over them. For over an hour the storm raged, and when it showed no sign of slacking, Ka’pena shouted to Kon’ala, who was in the stern of the sister wa’a. It took some time to get his friend’s attention, but when he did he gestured toward the small hut on the deck. Kon’ala nodded, instantly understanding. The two men, scrambled on deck, moving gingerly, neither had a lifeline so any mistake would lead to disaster. Fighting the pitch of the deck and the wind, they dismantled the shelter and quickly tossed it aft into the boiling sea.
One Life Well and Truly Promised Page 12