WhaleSong

*A note from the Author:

This is the first of what I hope will be many more short stories chronicling the adventures and experiances of my two newest friends and characters Kalani and Toukka, a young woman and her dog who travel a world quite similar to ours in the past. This is my first attempt to look into their world, but is by no means the first of their adventures so these stories are not written in chronoligical order. In this story, Kalani and Toukka have returned to the island that is home to the vaguely polynesian Ahn'na tribe, whom they have visited at least three times before. This is an account of the sacred yearly ritual held by the Ahn'na to honor the past and protect the future. If you want to know more, read on!

-WHALESONG-

Waves lapped gently at the side of the barge. Kalani held tight as the great swells of the ocean made the vessel rise and fall powerfully again and again. She edged closer to the fire, nestling near her large dog, Toukka, smiling as his sides expanded and contracted with his deep, regular breeding. Toukka was tired from all that travel, and it felt good to sit still again, even if it was on a barge the size of a small village that swayed crazily beneath the starry sky.
Kalani looked around, astonished once again by the construction of the Ocean Village. It was built on a base of massive tree trunks, each one felled with much ceremony and commemorated with a ten-day replanting ritual. There were twenty-five in all. The surface of the craft was a smooth floor of clay built atop the trees, and a waist-high guard rail ringed the whole structure. Beneath the barge were complex mechanisms that Kalani was never able to truly understand. Once while giving Kalani a tour of her own small craft, her navigator friend, Ossu, had explained that they helped to traverse the currents and steer the barge to the right part of the ocean, though Kalani could never quite understand how. An enormous hut, a replica of the Land Village’s Ceremonial House, was built on the far end of the barge, with a large open space in the center for ritual and celebration. On the opposite end, a strange sort of steering device was attached to the “Current Tamer” beneath the barge, and two dozen oar stations lined either side. Between them, the rhythm drummer’s station stood on a high podium, overseeing each rower. A steady-dripping water basin kept the time until the next group of men and women would take up the oars.

But at the moment, the steering section lay abandoned. Twenty large stones attached by long ropes to the sides of the barge were holding it in place over a moonlit expanse of water, allowing no more than ten paces of movement in any direction. The water basin was empty, and no one but a few giggling children and playful otters occupied that end of the Ocean Village. Everyone else was sitting around the fire and swapping stories, or socializing in the Hut. The steady sound of drums and peals of laughter drifted from the massive group house, and Kalani could smell smoked swordfish and roasting eel, and her mouth began to water. -Nehuko and his friends are working tirelessly on the night’s feast… and flirting with the village’s sailing women.- Kalani though with a smile.

Toukka let out a deep WUMPH, and lifted his shaggy head, ears and eyes focused on the ocean beyond the end of the barge. Kalani sat up straight, a smile already playing at her lips. A few of the villagers noticed Toukka and Kalani’s behavior and fell silent. The sounds of merriment still floated out of the Hut, but they seemed distant, like a vague memory. Nothing could compare with what was to come.

Ponnak, the village Father materialized out of the darkness from the lookout tower beside the Hut on the arm of Hanasuka, the village mother. Hanasuka reached up one thick, deep brown arm to a set of chimes beside the door and pulled the rope there. The deep, rich tones of the chimes reverberated through the Ocean Village, and the chatter in the Hut ceased.

Slowly, the people in the Ceremonial House began to trickle out into the open night air. Nehuko led them, his arms wrapped tightly around an enormous earthen bowl filled with bite-sized pieces of fish cooked with extreme care. These were the -kannaki-, the ritual food shared by the tribe during important ceremonies.

Hanasuka and Ponnak stood side by side in front of the fire, their backs to the guard rail. They clasped hands solemnly, their free hands rose high above their heads, extended to the moon. The stood motionless in that position until all of the village, from the oldest fisherman to the youngest child clasping her pet otter in apprehension, was settled in a circle around the great fire basin, all eyes were on them. The barge was stone silent, and Kalani felt a surge of excitement rise in her chest. Toukka’s tongue lolled out of his mouth and he panted eagerly, his eyes flickering from the bowl of -kannaki- to the shimmering ocean waves.

In silence, the -kannaki- bowl was passed around the circle. Each person took one -kannaki- before passing it along. Many children took two, offering the second piece to their otter companions. When it came to Kalani’s turn, she smiled at the eager expression on Toukka’s mottled face and picked out two random bites before passing the bowl on to the next in line, a plump, middle aged woman with a face heavily creased from decades of laughter. The two women had to suppress a giggle as Toukka eagerly nudged Kalani’s hand, but didn’t whimper. Kalani ruffled the fur on Toukka’s head and kissed his nose affectionately before tossing his piece of fish to him. He caught it effortlessly and chomped contentedly on it as the -kannaki- bowl finished it’s journey around the fire.

When all of the tribe had eaten the ceremonial fish, Ponnak and Hanasuka lowered their arms until they were level with the clay floor of the barge. Each speaking in turn, and occasionally in unison, the village mother and father recited the -Hana’oru-, the Call to the Sacred Spirits. It was, more than anything else, a song that was spoken rather than sung. The -Hana’oru- was recited in a language far older than any member of the tribe could recall, and the archaic words floated like a whispered melody on the cool sea air.

The chant rose in volume and intensity, Ponnak and Hanasuka’s voices mingling and winging their way through the ocean air. Suddenly, Toukka stood up straight, his tongue rolling out of his mouth, and panted loudly, his eyes shining. Toukka had been present with Kalani for the annual ritual three times before, he knew what was to come.

Several people noticed Toukka’s behavior, and large grins spread across their faces. An air of heady anticipation began to ripple through the circle, and the village mother and father, as though sensing the impending arrival, brought their chant to a powerful close.

As Ponnak continued speaking in the Old Tongue, Hanasuka broke off to speak in the new language, the one that was shared with many peoples.

-“We call to the spirits of our ancestors. Those that were once of our flesh and blood, return to us! Grace the tribe with your favor, and bring us prosperity another year! We implore you, O great ones!”-

Kalani’s breath caught. She could hear them now, the great ancestors of the Ahn’na people. They crashed through the water, as though the sea itself embraced them, beseeching them to stay, to make the water beautiful a little longer.

A few scattered gasps arose from the crowd. Toukka barked in excitement. Kalani’s heart seemed to try to explode from her chest. For They
had arrived.

The first lyrical, lilting peal drifted through the night, and Kalani felt herself stand involuntarily. Her sharp eyes scanned the pitch-black water until…THERE! Shimmering in the moonlight, a long, smooth shape rose from beneath the water. The silver of the moon glinted off of the water clinging to its slick, smooth body. Soon, it was joined by another, and another. Kalani realized with a start that she had been smiling so wide that her cheeks began to hurt.

The whales had arrived.


The ancient pod was now leaping and dancing around the barge, and a great, clamoring cheer rose from the hearts of every villager on the waves. Kalani counted nineteen humpbacks in all, several of them with calves. She and Toukka raced for the guard rail, where they leaned over the waves to watch. Kalani extended her hand just as an adolescent whale swam beneath the barge and turned on its side to extend its pectoral fin to meet her quivering fingers.

All around the barge, young and old were bending over the rails to reach out and touch the Great Ones. Their ancestors. Ahn’na legend told that when a member of the tribe dies, their soul is returned to the great water from whence they came. They were given new bodies, fit to embrace the ocean’s majesty. Once a year, the old souls were given their old memories once again, and once a year they came to meet the Ocean Village and again feel the touch of the ones they left behind. It was always a joyous reunion, full of tears and smiles. Kalani loved to see the great ritual of the Ahn’na, and returned to the little village whenever she could.

Suddenly, an eerie hush descended over the village. Toukka tensed in anticipation, and Kalani absently rested a hand on his head. Slowly, gently, a new sound floated through the night.

The oldest whale began to sing.

The rising and falling call danced through the barge, catching the hearts of everyone present. It fluttered through their souls, and coaxed tears from their eyes. A moment later, Chenhe, the oldest member of the village, raised his voice to mingle with the great whale’s. He sang of his family, of the village’s great past, of the year to come and of the year that had passed. He and the whale sang together, their voices entwining and rising to the heavens.

Slowly, one by one, the other whales joined into the song. And each whale was met by a different member of the village. Families sang together, in unison, as they responded to the whale that held the song of their hearts. Lovers’ voices mingled as their whale blessed their union. Children and calves found their unsteady voices together, growing more confident and strong as the song progressed.

Soon, the night was filled with the mingling songs of old souls and new. Tears sprang to the eyes of those left behind, and the mournful, joyous song swayed and danced through the night. Everyone whose heart beat was singing.

Everyone, that is, except for Kalani and Toukka.

Even as she felt her heart being swept up by the beauty of the music surrounding her, Kalani could not ignore the sharp pain in her heart. It was a familiar pain. Almost a friend to her. It was the pain of loneliness. A soft, nearly inaudible whine from Toukka told her that he felt the pain as well. Though the two shared their lives and hearts more closely than many could ever dream, they knew all too well the emptiness of being alone. Together, they were the only family each other knew. And though both woman and dog were celebrated friends of the Ahn’na, and included in even their most sacred rituals, they had no kin here. None of those whales sang for them.

After what seemed like an eternity held within a second, the song died down. Voice after voice faded from the chorus, until once more it was only Chenhe and the great old one who sang to the stars. Then, hesitantly, as though the silence would break his heart, the elderly man allowed his song to end. His eyes were those of a small boy as he wept freely, his heart reliving old farewells.

Just as slowly, the ancient whale let her voice fade to silence. And with the movements of those in mourning, the ancestral pod swam solemnly into the night. Kalani choked back tears as she heard Chenhe whisper through his sobs, “Good-bye Grandmother.”

And just like that, the whales were gone.
Several minutes passed where families, friends and lovers held each other close for comfort. Ponnak and Hanasuka wept as freely and openly as all the others. Everyone was equal in the -Kona Mahuku-, the Yearly Remembrance.



Suddenly, a loud, sharp BANG sliced through the mourning. The first drum was sounded, followed by a light, carefree trill on a wooden pipe. More drums and pipes followed, and a special mixture of herbs and minerals was thrown into the bonfire, causing it to roar back to life.
The new music picked up, and bit by bit the villagers began to dance and laugh again. Nehuko and his companions brought out bowl after bowl and plate after plate of decadent dishes until a monumental feast was laid out on the barge. The next several hours were filled with dancing, feasting and laughter as the somber tone of mourning slowly dissipated.

Kalani joined in the revelry along with Toukka, who had discovered that otters were far more sporting than he thought, but still could not shake the feeling of being an outsider among close friends.

It was a familiar feeling, and Kalani didn’t mind it so much anymore. She knew by now that she existed in this world to travel and to See. She and Toukka existed for each other, and lived for adventure. It was the life they chose, and the life they loved.

So Kalani danced and laughed, and Toukka chased and barked long into the night. They ate delicious foods and sang to beautiful music until the sun began to paint the sky in lighter hues and the barge made its way swiftly back to the shore.


Kalani and Toukka stood side by side at the head of the Ocean Village, watching the island of the Ahn’na people rush closer and closer toward them. As they had done so many times, they looked to the horizon and then, smiling, to each other. Their eyes communicated the same message that they held as every adventure drew to a close:

-Ever onward old friend, the world awaits us. The journey continues tomorrow.-