Witi Ihimaera - The Whale Rider

Koro Apirana took a few thoughtful steps back and forward.

‘But then,’ he continued, ‘man assumed a cloak of arrogance and set himself up above the Gods. He even tried to defeat Death, but failed. As he grew in his arrogance he started to drive a wedge through the original oneness of the world. In the passing of Time he divided the world into that half he could believe in and that half he could not believe in. The real and the unreal. The natural and supernatural. The present and the past. The scientific and the fantastic. He put a barrier between both worlds and everything on his side was called rational and everything on the other side was called irrational. Belief in our Maori Gods,’ he emphasised, ‘has often been considered irrational.’

Koro Apirana paused again. He had us in the palms of his hands and was considerate about our ignorance, but I was wondering what he was driving at. Suddenly he gestured to the sea.

‘You have all seen the whale,’ he said. ‘You have all seen the sacred sign tattooed on its head. Is the tattoo there by accident or by design? Why did a whale of its appearance strand itself here and not at Wainui? Does it belong in the real world or the unreal world?’

‘The real,’ someone called.

‘Is it natural or supernatural?’

‘It is supernatural,’ a second voice said.

Koro Apirana put up his hands to stop the debate. ‘No,’ he said, ‘it is both . It is a reminder of the oneness which the world once had. It is the birth cord joining past and present, reality and fantasy. It is both. It is both ,’ he thundered, ‘and if we have forgotten the communion then we have ceased to be Maori.’

The wind whistled through his words. ‘The whale is a sign,’ he began again. ‘It has stranded itself here. If we are able to return it to the sea, then that will be proof that the oneness is still with us. If we are not able to return it, then this is because we have become weak. If it lives, we live. If it dies, we die. Not only its salvation but ours is waiting out there.’

Koro Apirana closed his eyes. His voice drifted in the air and hovered, waiting for a decision.

‘Shall we live? Or shall we die?’

Our answer was an acclamation of pride in our tribe.

Koro Apirana opened his eyes. ‘Okay then, boys. Let’s go down there and get on with it.’

Porourangi gave the orders. He told the men that they were to drive every available truck, car, motorbike or tractor down to the bluff overlooking the sea and flood the beach with their headlights. Some of the boys had spotlights which they used when hunting opossums; these, also, were brought to the bluff and trained on the stranded whale. In the light, the whale’s tattoo flared like a silver scroll.

Watching from the dining room, Nanny Flowers saw Koro Apirana walking around in the rain and got her wild up. She yelled out to one of the boys, ‘ Hoi , you take his raincoat to that old paka. Thinks he’s Super Maori, ne.’

‘What are they doing, Nanny?’ Kahu asked.

‘They’re taking all the lights down to the beach,’ Nanny Flowers answered. ‘The whale must be returned to the sea.’

Kahu saw the beams from the headlights of two tractors cutting through the dark. Then she saw her father, Porourangi, and some of the boys running down to the whale with ropes in their hands.

‘That’s it, boys,’ Koro Apirana yelled. ‘Now who are the brave ones to go out in the water and tie the ropes around the tail of our ancestor? We have to pull him around so that he’s facing the sea. Well?’

I saw my mate, Billy, and volunteered on his behalf.

‘Gee thanks, pal,’ Billy said.

‘I’ll take the other rope,’ Porourangi offered.

‘No,’ Koro Apirana said. ‘I need you here. Give the rope to your brother, Rawiri.’

Porourangi laughed and threw the rope to me. ‘Hey, I’m not your brother,’ I said.

He pushed me and Billy out into the sea. The waves were bitingly cold and I was greatly afraid because the whale was so gigantic. As Billy and I struggled to get to the tail all I could think of was that if it rolled I would be squashed just like a nana. The waves lifted us up and down, up and down, up into the dazzle of the lights on the beach and down into the dark sea. Billy must have been as frightened of the whale as I was because he would say, ‘Excuse me, koro,’ whenever a wave smashed him into the side of the whale, or, ‘Oops, sorry koro.’

‘Hurry up! Hurry up!’ Koro Apirana yelled from the beach, ‘We haven’t much time. Stop mucking around.’

Billy and I finally managed to get to the tail of the whale. The flukes of the whale were enormous, like huge wings.

‘One of us will have to dive underneath,’ I suggested to Billy, ‘to get the ropes around.’

‘Be my guest,’ Billy said. He was hanging on for dear life.

There was nothing for it but to do the job myself. I took three deep breaths and dived. The water was churning with sand and small pebbles and I panicked when the whale moved. Just my luck if it did a bundle, I thought. I sought the surface quickly.

‘You’re still alive,’ Billy shouted in triumph. I passed the two ropes to him. He knotted them firmly and we fought our way back to the beach. The boys gave a big cheer. I heard Billy boasting about how he had done all the hard work.

‘Now what?’ Porourangi asked Koro Apirana.

‘We wait,’ said Koro Apirana, ‘for the incoming tide. The tide will help to float our ancestor and, when he does we’ll use the tractors to pull him around. We will only have the one chance. Then once he’s facing the sea we’ll all have to get in the water and try to push him out.’

‘We could pull him out by boat,’ I suggested.

‘No, too dangerous,’ Koro replied. ‘The sea is running too high. The other whales are in the way. No, we wait. And we pray.’

Koro Apirana told Billy and me to get out of our wet clothes. We hopped on my motorbike and went up to the homestead to change. Naturally, Nanny Flowers with her hawk eyes saw us and came ambling over to ask what was happening down on the beach.

‘We’re waiting for the tide,’ I said.

I thought that Nanny Flowers would start to growl and protest about not being involved. Instead she simply hugged me and said, ‘Tell the old paka to keep warm. I want him to come back to me in one piece.’

Then Kahu was there, flinging herself into my arms. ‘Paka? Is Paka all right?’

‘Yes, Kahu,’ I said.

‘There, there,’ Kahu said to Nanny Flowers. ‘They’ll be all right.’

Suddenly the horns of the cars down on the beach began to sound. The tide was turning. Billy and I rushed to the motorbike and roared back.

By the time we got back to Koro Apirana the boys were already in action. ‘The sea came up so sudden,’ Porourangi yelled above the waves. ‘Look.’

The whale was already half submerged, spouting in its distress. Three elderly females had managed to come beside him and were trying to nudge him upright before he drowned.

‘ Now ,’ Porourangi cried. The two tractors coughed into life. The rope took up between them and the whale, and quickly became taut.

With a sudden heave and suck of sand the whale gained its equilibrium. Its eyes opened, and Koro Apirana saw the strength and the wisdom of the ages shining like a sacred flame. The tattoo of the whale too seemed alive with unholy fire.

Do you wish to live ?

‘Sacred whale,’ Koro Apirana said. ‘Yes, we wish to live. Return to the sea. Return to your kingdom of Tangaroa.’

The tractors began to pull the whale round. By degrees it was lying parallel to the beach. The boys and I put our shoulders to its gigantic bulk and tried to ease it further seaward.