Koro was massaging my back, sometimes giving it short hits with his open palms. Even though I no longer required it, he couldn’t get out of the habit. And I was too blissed out to tell him.
‘I think James Cook’s attitude was more personal,’ Koro said. ‘He was probably affronted by Tupaea’s mana and didn’t wish to acknowledge that a Maohi was equal to him. Apparently our ancestor’s proud and austere attitude did not make him popular with the Endeavour’s crew.’
I hated the thought of Tupaea being isolated on the English ship. ‘He did have f riends on the voyage, didn’t he?’
‘Banks, despite his attitude, yes,’ Koro conceded. ‘The artist Parkinson perhaps, as well as the astronomer Green and Banks’ two black servants. Who knows? Tupaea and Taiata may have taught them how to coax Maohi rhythms from the conches and deep-toned drums they’d brought on board, eh?’
On that chuckling thought, I finally succumbed to tiredness.
‘But how can I find Tupaea?’ I murmured sleepily. ‘Tell me, Koro, where should I seek him?’
‘Yes, Little Tu, we have to acknowledge that the Endeavour’s story belonged to Cook and Banks and, therefore, why should our ancestor have a place in the documents? Nevertheless, Tupaea is there. You must look not at but through the documents, moko.
‘Beloved grandson, look also past the written to the unwritten. Put yourself into the spaces between the words on the page. Go past the spoken to the unspoken. Seek the priest in our own language, not the language of the coloniser.
‘Mokopuna, be your own navigator.
‘Your ancestor is waiting.’
CHAPTER TEN
THE ARRIVAL OF THE ARIOI
‘Through various karakia and chants the Arioi priest was able to recognise the ancient star clusters — there they were as of old! — and by the position of the sun on the horizon, plot the way ahead. When Tupaea noticed the myriad passages of birds in the sky, he knew that land was nigh.
‘There came a sunset when the young watch, Nicholas Young, sighted a promontory. Cook called the land New Zealand but your ancestor Tupaea knew otherwise: this was the fabled land of Aotearoa. And Tupaea realised ’Oro — or destiny — had a different purpose for him: to reinstate the connection that had long ago been severed.
‘He saw tall mountains, white cliffs, fertile land and then a village, with smoke coiling from many cooking fires. For the first time, he glimpsed the people, descendants of the Maohi voyagers.
‘He knew he would be the first priestly visitor for over three hundred years. But would the people remember?
‘He said to Taiata, “Bring me my robes.”’
Hello, Little Tu, are you receiving, over?
This is what I saw.
The sky was a strange colour that day, with the sun a fiery glowing ball, sending sunbursts from its surface.
The Maori, watching from the shore, were struck with wonder at what they saw. What was that moving across the blazing eye of Rangi? It was a strange magnificent waka, bucking amid the solar flares, its timbers smouldering within the raging solar sea.
‘Make haste, o waka, go quickly,’ they cried. With a roar of relief and acclamation they saw the canoe negotiate the transit and sail through to the cool universe beyond. Then it tipped and plunged headlong from the highest heavens like a fiery comet. Through the atmosphere the waka flamed, into the foaming sea.
What wonder was this? The canoe emerged newly born from the waves. It was like a huge island, with wide bluff bows, a raised poop and a square stern. The large sails made the island look like it was carrying its own clouds above it.
A brilliant rainbow arched from the highest heaven, and birds shrieked and flew from one end of the earth to the other. ‘O iwi, bow down,’ the birds commanded. ‘The Arikirangi is coming.’
And Tupaea slid down the rainbow, landing on the strange island.
The people gasped, for he was a man without physical flaw.
On his head was a circular cap, like a woven helmet, and from it sprouted a tall headdress made of beautiful red, yellow and black feathers. His body glistened with oil, and around his midriff and thighs he wore a girdle of red feathers. A shoulder cape reached down to the waist and was tipped with a fringe, this time of yellow feathers.
He had not come alone. A small boy child alighted alongside him, draped in pearls; they stood on the floating island, shining in the rainbow’s holy light.
Once Tupaea was satisfied that all the people had gathered, he began to chant:
A hee mai te tua, e ia papama ’ehe
No te tai a tau te po …
The sea rolled, the tides mounting
For a period of nights …
As he chanted the small child took up a great conch-shell trumpet, a putaiiteaeha, which brayed from horizon to horizon. Then he beat out intoxicating rhythms on some drums, and the whole universe swayed as Tupaea began to dance:
E po fanaura’a atua, o te po Mua Tai’aroa;
It was the God’s birth night, the night of Mua Taia’aroa
O ’Orotaua atua i fanau mai i te reira po …
’Oro taua was the God born that night …
Dipping and swaying, Tupaea lifted his arms to the sun, lowered them to the earth. When he twirled and gestured, the feathers he was wearing gleamed like a cloak of many colours.
’Oro atua o te Reva e te whenua nei;
’Oro, god of the Air and Earth;
’Oro haia; ’Oro atua o te Arioi
’Oro manslayer; god of the Arioi.
Then Tupaea revealed the beings which had come with him: goblins of ghastly white, in red skins, tricksters and devious. The people marvelled when Tupaea bade the goblins bring him to shore on smaller waka, for as they rowed they had their backs to the land, which meant that their eyes were at the backs of their heads.
There, on the sand, the small child brought forward a cylinder.
Tupaea unveiled the ironwood that had been stored within a sacred canopy covered with feathers, and offered it to the Maori people. ‘Do you remember?’ he cried.
With tears of gladness, they nodded their heads. Oh, it had been such a long time since ’Oro had been among them!
‘Then bow down before the great God, bow down!’
From that moment onward, all the people honoured the priest: ‘Arikirangi! Tupaea! Haere mai! Greetings, captain of the Endeavour!’
CHAPTER ELEVEN —
TUPAEA IN AOTEAROA
E mokopuna, you may wonder why Maohi of Aotearoa thought Tupaea was the captain of the Endeavour. Well, his arrival had been foretold long before by Toiroa, a tohunga from Mahia. ‘Arikirangi, high chief, he is coming,’ the tohunga said. ‘He comes with red and white strangers.’