Turtle and Canoe

Turtle and Canoe

(A Tale from Palau)

“I shall prove it now.” Eledui grabbed his hunting spear and pulled it from the rafters. “I shall be the best!”

Branches of coconut palms clattered in the night wind. No moon or stars pierced the blackness that wrapped around the island like a warm blindfold. Without hesitation, Eledui hurried toward the beach. His feet could see as well as his eyes, sometimes better. Tonight they raced down the stone path to the shore where his outrigger was prepared for the hunt.

The sand was wet. The tide had slipped out, leaving behind wave-rows of shells and coral pieces. Piles of tangled seaweed smelled of yesterday’s fish.

Eledui laughed at the ghost crabs that scurried into their dark holes. “Don't worry. Children chase you, not great hunters like me. Tonight I will capture the Great Turtle, the Old One." He thrust his spear and boasted. “For it is I, Eledui from Ngerdemai. who hunts with more courage than anyone!"

Quickly Eledui dragged his canoe into the water, leaped aboard, and grabbed the paddle. He glanced back at his village. “The old men waste time waiting for an omen. I say, begin the hunt now!"

His fingers gripped the oar's slender throat. “They will see who knows best. The Old One will soon be mine!

He paddled quickly, forgetting to study the horizon for storm swells or look for strong currents. But when a fairy tern (a small seabird) swooped overhead, shrieking and scolding, he stopped his paddling.

The white bird circled and then dove so close that Eledui could see its black eyes staring at him. He started to laugh but only shuddered. The bird had disappeared. Or had he only imagined a bird? Now he remembered. In his hurry, he had forgotten to greet the land spirits, the providers of safety. He had even forgotten to give offerings to the sea spirits. Their powers could protect and assure his safe return or shatter his slender outrigger with a sudden storm. These spirits often changed into birds when travelling to earth with messages or warnings.

Bowing his head, he prayed. “Be pleased, not angered at my boldness. I give thanks for the courage in my bones and the strength in this canoe.” He scooped up a handful of salt water and threw it onto the outrigger's bow. “Forgive my haste, for my head is filled with thoughts of the hunt." Eledui raised his head and shouted out his prayer. “If the Spirits consent, I am ready."

Now he turned and faced the eastern horizon. Already a blood-red line split sea and sky. "I must hurry or I will lose the advantage of the morning sun. Its brightness will blind the turtle’s eyes. With the sun behind me, the Old One will see nothing. I can drift closer and closer . . . " Eledui smiled, "and drive my spear through his back!”

With great speed, Eledui paddled directly to the outer reef. There he drifted above the sea caves, the Old One's resting place.

The turtle's eyes were dark but clear. He was ancient and preferred the shadowy recesses of the coral caves. He rested a long time before the need for air forced him to surface. He needed air now.

A few strokes and the turtle glided upward like a bird winging across the sky. Shafts of morning light beamed through the turquoise water. As soon as his hawk-beak broke the surface, his nostrils flared open. The morning light blinded him. The old one floated with eyes half-closed and breathed in the salty air.

Eledui had been scanning the sea when he saw the messy domed back of the hawksbill. His heart began pounding. Yes, there he is! It must be the Old One. Only one turtle on the reef had a back so big, so wide. Yes, the Old One, and he shall be mine!

Before fear could cloud his determination, he pulled his paddle deeply through the water, let the outrigger drift closer and closer until he could see the pattern of squares on the turtle's back. Eledui drew back his spear, aimed, and threw. Blood spurted high into the air. Slowly a circle of red stained the water.

The Old One slid beneath the surface, but the spear’s shaft stuck out like a death mark. Eledui dove in and grabbed for the turtle. He must keep the turtle from diving deep below the surface. He must hold onto the shell, kicking to keep the turtle from diving deep into the sea but careful to stay away from his sharp fins. When the Old One grew weak from bleeding and struggling, then he could lash it to his outrigger, paddle back, and strut triumphantly through his village, holding his trophy high above his head. The children would crowd around pointing and shouting. Young women would stare from a distance. Stories would be told about his great strength and courage and the speed of his paddling.

His paddling . . . where had he dropped his paddle? Eledui glanced around him. Where was his boat? In his haste to spear the turtle, Eledui had forgotten to anchor his boat.

He strained to see some sign of his canoe. Now he was the one blinded by the sun's strong light. But yes, he could see its small silhouette already drifting away, caught in the current that ran like a river away from the reef toward the ocean. If he had any hope of catching his boat, he must swim to it now. The ocean was not a place to survive without canoe or paddle.

“Aigh!” The turtle was now quiet, almost as if dead. Eledui shifted his grip. Suddenly the hawksbill twisted and turned, struggling to break free, to dive down, down, down to the safety of a cave.

I will use the strength of this turtle. I will use his clawing to pull us both toward my boat." Eledui clenched his fists more tightly. His outrigger was his prize possession, but this turtle was his future. He must have both!

The Old One twisted his head, his gaping jaw reaching and snapping. But Eledui was quick. The turtle slapped the water with his front fins, trying to tear at Eledui’s hands. But the claws could not reach. The turtle rolled onto his back, trying to drown this hunter who had pierced his shell with pain that was burning like fire in every bone, muscle, and even his brain.

Eledui glanced again as his outrigger shrank smaller and smaller, drifting faster and faster away from the reef.

The Old Turtle's fins clawed across Eledui's chest, leaving bloody lines and ripped skin.

“No! I won't give up. I won‘t let go and return empty-handed. Never!" He swam harder, pushing the Old One in front of him away from the reef, toward the sea and drifting canoe. Waves splashed, choking him with water and salt. His eyes burned. The strength in his arms was nearly gone. No longer were his muscles powerful and strong. The weight of the Old One felt heavier and heavier. When he stared at the horizon, sometimes he saw the tiny silhouette of his outrigger but sometimes all he saw was the black tip of a distant wave.

The turtle lifted his head and sucked in a long breath of air. And then the Old One dipped his head under the surface and pushed hard with front fins and back. He would dive to the deepest cave even if he must take this hunter with him.

Eledui now saw the sadness in the turtle’s eyes and felt a shudder of death and sorrow. Around both hunter and turtle, the sea foamed red with blood. Eledui felt the shell's sharp edge slide from his fists. He lunged for the turtle but the Old One slipped beneath the sea.

“No! No!” he screamed. But the only ones to hear his cries were the waves and the empty horizon.

Source:

Pacific Island Legends: Tales from Micronesia, Melanesia, Polynesia and Australia.

Nancy Bo Flood, Beret E. Strong, William Flood

1991

Pages: 39-44