Rata's Canoe

 Rata's Canoe

(A Tale from the Cook Islands)

There was once a chief named Rata who lived long ago in the spirit-land of Kupolu. He longed to explore distant lands, and so he decided to build a great double canoe. Shouldering his ax, he set off to a valley where the tallest trees grew. On his way he passed a stream. Here, by a pandanus tree, he came upon a fight between a beautiful white heron and a spotted sea snake, and he paused to watch the deadly combat.

The heron had been fishing by the sea and, growing weary, had perched on a rock to rest. This annoyed the sea snake, who lived in a hole under the rock, and he resolved to catch the heron. He put his head out of the water to see in which direction it flew, and then he pursued it with all haste. Swimming to the mouth of the stream, he followed its course until he came to the pandanus tree where the heron was asleep. Since the tree had many roots growing from the base of the trunk and stretching down into the water, the snake was able to climb up. Holding on by twining his tail around a root, he attacked the bird and began to bite it. It was at this moment that Rata passed by, and the heron called out to him for help.

“O Rata, put an end to this fight,” the bird cried.

But the deceitful snake said, “Nay, Rata, leave use alone. It is but a trial of strength. Leave us to fight it out.”

Since Rata was in a hurry to fell timber for his canoe, he went on, but as he turned away he heard the heron say reproachfully, “Your canoe will not be finished without my aid.” And again it asked for help.

But Rata walked on until he found the timber he sought. After cutting down enough for his boat, he returned home at sunset. Early the next morning he set off, intending to hollow out the trees he had cut. But, strange to say, he could not find his logs. Not a lopped branch, or chips, or fallen leaves, could be seen. Neither could he see any stumps, for the trees had been mysteriously restored to their upright position. Nothing daunted, he felled them a second time and then went home.

On the third morning as he went to the forest, he passed the heron and the snake, who were still fighting. For two days and nights they had not ceased their battle. When Rata reached his trees he found that again they were standing boldly in their original positions. Now he remembered the words spoken sorrowfully by the heron: “Your canoe will not be finished without my aid.”

He ran back quickly to the scene of the fight, and he found that the beautiful bird was almost exhausted and that the sea snake was about to deliver the final blow.

Rata gripped his ax, and swinging it with all his might, he chopped the cruel snake into many pieces, setting the heron free. Then he went off to cut down his trees for the third time.

When the heron revived, it came and perched on the branch of a tree and watched Rata’s labors. At sunset, as Rata returned home, the grateful bird flew off to collect all the other birds of Kupolu, and throughout the night they worked hard, pecking away at the logs to hollow them. Then the sea birds who had the longest bills bored the holes, and the land birds secured the bindings with their strong claws. It was almost dawn before they completed their task. Finally the heron called them all to lift the canoe and carry it to the beach by Rata’s dwelling. Then every bird, large and small, settled on one side of the canoe or the other, each putting one wing underneath to raise the craft, while using the other wing for flying.

As the birds flew to the beach they sang this song:

Make way for the canoe,

Clear a path for the boat,

Take it through trees,

Bear it through flowers.

The birds of Kupolu

Honor Rata our chief.

Awakened by the unusual singing of so many birds, Rata collected his tools and was about to return to his trees when he caught sight of the canoe lying outside his house. He was amazed by the beauty of the work and guessed that it had been done by the birds, although not one could he see, for they had disappeared into the forest.

He then made a mast and a sail, and he named his canoe “Taraipo,” which means “built in a night.” Then he collected food and water, and he called his friends to accompany him.

When all was ready, a crafty magician appeared and asked if he might sail with them, but Rata refused to let him come on board. Then secretly the magician seized a large coconut, and knocking a hole in it, he squeezed himself inside and floated off in the sea, following the canoe. By and by Rata’s men saw the nut bobbing before them, and one man stooped down and picked it up out of the water. He found it very heavy, and peering into the hole, he was astonished to discover a small man inside it.

“Take me with you, O Rata,” said the magician, still inside the coconut.

“Whither away?” inquired Rata.

“To the land of Moonlight, to seek my parents.”

“Well, what will you do for me in return?” asked the chief.

“I will look after your mat-sail.”

“I have enough men to attend to the sail,” said Rata. “I do not want your help.”

After a while, still crouched inside the coconut, the magician again asked to be allowed to remain on board in order to sail to the land of Moonlight.

“What else can you do for me if I take you with us?” Rata inquired.

“I can bail out the water from the bottom of your canoe,” he replied.

Again Rata said, “I do not want your help. I have plenty of men to bail out water.”

Yet a third time the magician pleaded, offering to paddle the canoe whenever the wind dropped, but Rata still refused to take him.

At last the tiny man said that he would destroy all the monsters of the ocean that might trouble them.

Rata now became interested, for he had forgotten to provide against any such emergency, and wisely he permitted the magician to remain on board. Growing suddenly to his normal size, the man took his place at the forepart of the canoe, and he kept a sharp lookout for monsters.

At first they sailed swiftly over the water, with a fair wind filling the sail, seeking new lands. Then one day the magician called out, “O Rata, beware, here is a fearful enemy.”

It was a giant clam. So great was the size of the shell that as  it opened one half of it lay ahead of the canoe and the other half lay astern, threatening the vessel with the danger of being crushed when it closed. But the magician seized his long spear and drove it deep into the clam's flesh, so that, instead of crushing them all in its shell, the creature sank slowly to the bottom of the sea.

Continuing their journey, the men soon let down their guard, but the sharp eyes of the magician spied another foe.

“O Rata,” he shouted, “yonder comes a terrible octopus.”

The monster had already encircled the canoe with its huge arms and threatened to pull it under the water, but again the magic spear was thrust forward and it pierced the evil-looking head. At once the arms relaxed their grip and the octopus drifted away, mortally wounded.

One more peril lay in wait for the voyagers. This time a great whale came toward them with its jaws wide open, and the men thought their last moments had come.

The resourceful magician now broke his long spear in half, and just as the whale was about to swallow them, he thrust the two stakes upright inside its mouth, so that it was impossible for the jaws to close. Then he jumped down into the great mouth and looked right into the whale’s stomach. There he saw his long-lost father and mother, who had been swallowed alive when out fishing one day.

His parents, who were busily plaiting a rope, were overjoyed at seeing their son, and he promised to rescue them immediately. Jumping into the whale’s open mouth, he quickly removed one of the stakes propping it open and broke the stake in two. Then, by rubbing the pieces together briskly, he made a spark that set fire to the blubber in the whale. Writhing in agony, the monster swam swiftly toward the nearest land, and when it reached a sandy beach, the three passengers walked out of its open mouth and escaped.

All this time Rata and his men had followed them, and they landed on the same beach. They all lived peacefully on that pleasant land for a year. At length they decided to return home, and after repairing the canoe and collecting food and water, they set off once more.

This time the voyage was completed without any perils or terrors, and sailing toward the setting sun they reached their homeland in safety.

Source:

Tales from the South Pacific Islands

Anne Gittins

1977

Pages: 66-71

Trees with Flat Tops

Trees with Flat Tops 

 (A Legend from Hawaii)

Most of the trees on Hawaii are fiat on top. An old Hawaiian story explains why. The story says that long ago when the First People lived in Hawaii, the sky was very close to the earth. It was so near to the ground that people could not straighten up. When they wanted to go from one place to another, they had to crawl on their hands and knees. And the days and nights were very hot, for there was no room under the sky for the winds to blow. 

All this made Mau-i (that Great One) very unhappy. He did not like to creep about on his hands and knees, and he did not like to be so hot all the time. He said to himself, "If the sky did not lie so close to the earth, men would not have to crawl about like lizards on the lava rocks. Besides that, the sea winds could blow over the land and cool it. If only I were strong enough, I would lift the sky, so that it would be high up above the earth!” 

Now among the black cinder cones of the volcano called Ha-le-a-ka-la, on the Island of Mau-i, there lived an old woman who had a calabash (a kind of jug) in which she kept a magic drink. Mau-i knew that if he could find her and have a drink from her calabash, he would become strong enough to lift the sky up off the Earth. 

But before Mau-i began to hunt for the Old One, he placed a magic tattoo, or mark, on his arm so that she would not be frightened when she saw him. He knew that if she were frightened, she would take her calabash and run away. 

Then Mau-i went to Ha-le-a-ka-la and crawled all around the big, bowl-shaped crater of the volcano, searching for the Old One. At last he found her sitting in the shadow of a cinder cone. She was holding the calabash in her lap. 

When the Old One saw Mau-i, she started to scurry away like a little animal. But Mau-i stretched out his arm to stop her, and she saw the magic tattoo. Then she knew that he was no ordinary human being. 

  

“What do you want?” she asked fearfully. 

“Do not be afraid,” said Mau-i. “I just want a drink from your magic calabash.” 

The Old One hugged the jug close to her. “Why do you want it, young man?” she asked. 

“Old One,” said Mau-i, “the sky is too close to the earth. I want to become so strong that I can lift it high up above the world. Then men can stand straight and tall—and you will not have to hop about like a toad in this crater. Only your magic can help me. Please let me drink from your calabash!”   

The Old One liked what Mau-i said. With trembling hands she held out the calabash. Mau-i lifted it to his lips and drank. At once the wonderful magic went racing through his body. He felt his chest grow big. He felt his arms and hands and legs and back become strong as steel. 

Mau-i thanked the Old One and gave her back the calabash. Then, with the heavy sky still pressing on him, he crawled quickly away toward Pu-na. 

Now in the valley of Pu-na there is a hill called Kau-i-ki. Mau-i crawled to the top of Kau-i-ki. With his arms he brushed away the white clouds that clung to its summit. Then, resting on his hands and knees, he arched his back up in a strong curve. Pressing up with all his might, he began the job of pushing the sky away from the earth with his back. He pushed and pushed against the low-lying heavens. 

The strong magic in the Old One’s calabash helped him. Bit by bit the sky began to give way. Suddenly it billowed up overhead like the top of a great bubble. The wind came rushing into the space that was left and felt fresh and cool against Mau-i’s face. Then, for the first time in his life, Mau-i stood up on his feet. He stretched his arms above his head. He had pushed the sky so high he could not touch it! 

  

Only the edges of the sky still hung unevenly down over the sea. Mau-i lifted them and tucked them down beyond the ocean over the rim of the world. 

Today the sky over the Island of Mau-i is bluer than the sea. Only in the early morning do the dark storm clouds press down upon the crater of Ha-le-a-ka-la. Even then, they do not stay long. They are afraid that Mau-i will see them and hurl them off the earth. And in Pu-na, on the top of the hill called Kau-i-ki, there are only soft, white, cottony clouds. No dark storm clouds dare to gather there. In Pu-na the sky is very tall and blue. 

Along the Ko-na coast, beyond the coral reefs, the sea is no longer smooth and flat. The waves have room to pile high. They break over the reefs and rush onto the sand or crash against the lava rocks on the shore. The air that blows in from the sea is moist and cool and pleasant. 

But before the time when Mau-i pushed the sky high overhead, many of the trees had grown used to stretching their branches out sideways. Low and wide and green, they gave shelter from the sun and the rain to man and bird and beast. So when the sky no longer pressed down on them, they did not change their habits and grow tall and slim, like the pines and the fir trees. They stayed flat on top. And that’s the way they are today—all because once upon a time the sky was too close to the earth. 

 

 

Source: 

Hawaiian tales 

Helen Lamar Berkey 

1968 

Pages: 61-65