Kahutia Te Rangi / Paikea Character Analysis

Karanga mai, karanga mai, karanga mai.

So the whale rider uttered a prayer over the wooden spear, saying, “Let this spear be planted in the years to come, for there are sufficient spear [sic] already implanted. Let this be the one to flower when the people are troubled and it is most needed.”

And the spear then leaped from his hands with gladness and soared through the sky. It flew across a thousand years. When it hit the earth, it did not change but waited for another hundred and fifty years to pass until it was needed. The flukes of the whale stroked majestically at the sky.

Hui e, haumi e, taiki e.

Let it be done.

The human had heard the young whale’s distress and had come into the sea, playing a flute. The sound was plangent and sad as he tried to communicate his oneness with the young whale’s mourning. Quite without the musician knowing it, the melodic patterns of the flute’s phrases imitated the whale song of comfort. The young whale drew nearer to the human, who cradled him and pressed noses with the orphan in greeting. When the herd traveled onward, the young whale remained and grew under the tutelage of his master.

I could understand, however, why the old man was so against the idea. Not only was Kahutia Te Rangi a man’s name, but it was also the name of the ancestor of our village. Koro Apirana felt that naming a girl-child after the founder of our tribe was belittling Kahutia Te Rangi’s prestige. From that time onward, whenever Koro Apirana went past the meetinghouse, he would look up at the figure of Kahutia Te Rangi on the whale and shake his head sorrowfully. Then he would say to Nanny Flowers, “You stepped out of line, dear. You shouldn’t have done it.” To give credit to her, Nanny Flowers did appear penitent.

The heartache of that separation had never left the whale, nor had the remembrance of that touch of brow to brow in the last hongi.

“[The whale] is a reminder of the oneness that the world once had. It is the birth cord joining past and present, reality and fantasy. It is both [real and unreal, natural and supernatural]. It is both, […] and if we have forgotten the communion then we have ceased to be Maori!”

[…] “The whale is a sign. […] 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.”

Without really thinking about it, Kahu began to stroke the whale just behind the fin. It is my lord, the whale rider. She felt a tremor in the whale and a rippling under the skin. Suddenly she saw that indentations like footholds and handholds were appearing before her. She tested the footholds and they were firm. Although the wind was blowing fiercely, she stepped away from the sheltering fin and began to climb. As she did so, she caught a sudden glimpse of her Koro Apirana and Nanny Flowers clustered with the others on the faraway beach.

She was the whale rider. Astride the whale, she felt the sting of the surf and rain upon her face. On either side, the younger whales were escorting their leader through the surf. They broke through into deeper water.

Karanga mai, karanga mai, karanga mai.

So the whale rider uttered a prayer over the wooden spear, saying, “Let this spear be planted in the years to come, for there are sufficient spear [sic] already implanted. Let this be the one to flower when the people are troubled and it is most needed.”

And the spear then leaped from his hands with gladness and soared through the sky. It flew across a thousand years. When it hit the earth, it did not change but waited for another hundred and fifty years to pass until it was needed. The flukes of the whale stroked majestically at the sky.

Hui e, haumi e, taiki e.

Let it be done.

The human had heard the young whale’s distress and had come into the sea, playing a flute. The sound was plangent and sad as he tried to communicate his oneness with the young whale’s mourning. Quite without the musician knowing it, the melodic patterns of the flute’s phrases imitated the whale song of comfort. The young whale drew nearer to the human, who cradled him and pressed noses with the orphan in greeting. When the herd traveled onward, the young whale remained and grew under the tutelage of his master.

I could understand, however, why the old man was so against the idea. Not only was Kahutia Te Rangi a man’s name, but it was also the name of the ancestor of our village. Koro Apirana felt that naming a girl-child after the founder of our tribe was belittling Kahutia Te Rangi’s prestige. From that time onward, whenever Koro Apirana went past the meetinghouse, he would look up at the figure of Kahutia Te Rangi on the whale and shake his head sorrowfully. Then he would say to Nanny Flowers, “You stepped out of line, dear. You shouldn’t have done it.” To give credit to her, Nanny Flowers did appear penitent.

The heartache of that separation had never left the whale, nor had the remembrance of that touch of brow to brow in the last hongi.

“[The whale] is a reminder of the oneness that the world once had. It is the birth cord joining past and present, reality and fantasy. It is both [real and unreal, natural and supernatural]. It is both, […] and if we have forgotten the communion then we have ceased to be Maori!”

[…] “The whale is a sign. […] 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.”

Without really thinking about it, Kahu began to stroke the whale just behind the fin. It is my lord, the whale rider. She felt a tremor in the whale and a rippling under the skin. Suddenly she saw that indentations like footholds and handholds were appearing before her. She tested the footholds and they were firm. Although the wind was blowing fiercely, she stepped away from the sheltering fin and began to climb. As she did so, she caught a sudden glimpse of her Koro Apirana and Nanny Flowers clustered with the others on the faraway beach.

She was the whale rider. Astride the whale, she felt the sting of the surf and rain upon her face. On either side, the younger whales were escorting their leader through the surf. They broke through into deeper water.