Ka Wai Ola - Office of Hawaiian Affairs, Volume 10, Number 11, 1 November 1999 — Navigating with mana [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Navigating with mana

By Jayson Harper SOME 1,500 years ago, King Hoto Matua boarded a doublehulled eanoe and set sail over the wann waters of the South Pacific. Guided by the stars, the migration patterns of land-based birds and oeean swells, King Matua navigated toward a thin volcanic island whose steep slopes must have stood like a beacon to this weary group of Polynesian seafarers. According to legend, they landed on the north shore, at Anakena, and began the occupation of the island the king and his crew would eventually eall Rapa Nui. Last summer, the Hawaiian voyaging eanoe Hōkūle'a left Mangareva, French Polynesia, on a 1,450-mile journey retracing that earher voyage of King Matua. Over the course of 18 days, the 12-person crew, led by master navigator Nainoa Thompson, braved cold winds, rough seas and uncertainty to find Rapa Nui. "This journey recognizes the powers of dreams," said Thompson who was in Rapa Nui last year studying wind cycles. "When Polynesian people arrived on the island, they stayed long enough to go through many weather cycles," said Sergio Rapu, an archaeologist and former governor of Rapa Nui. According to Rapu, "There were 30 different types of winds. The people of Rapa Nui knew how they blew, how they affected the sea, agriculture and fishing." The Hōkūle'a, completed in 1975, represents the first full-scale effort in eontemporary times to recreate a traditional Polynesian voyaging eanoe. Using plywood, fiberglass and resin, the architects of the eanoe made every attempt to create an accurate replica in both size and capability. Thompson's most recent voyage on the Hōkūle'a completes a series of Polynesian passages that began 25 years ago within the triangle bounded by Hawai'i to the north, Aotaroa to the south and Rapa Nui to the east. For some, the journey proved to be an experience that reached deep into their souls. "It is mana that finds favorable winds to fill her sails. Mana that attracts people to believe in the power of exploration and discovery. And a mana that's created by the many communities of sup-

porters who keep her sailing," said navigator Chad Baybayan. Working on deck, crewmembers clad in yellow weatherproof suits braved

stinging rain and cold winds to navigate the Hōkūle'a. Sometimes the cloud cover would be so heavy it was almost impossible to see the stars that they navigated

by. At other times the winds would piek up, pushing the Hōkūle'a through the water. On Oct. 6, the Hōkūle'a sailed into an area called "the box," a rectangular stretch of oeean that extends 300 miles west, 60 miles north and 60 miles south of Rapa Nūi. This stage of the voyage requires navigation and steering be absolutely precise. Thompson, Baybayan and navigator Bruce Blakenfield had to constantly remember speed, time and direction to adjust their mental ealeulation of Hōkūle'a's position with respect to Rapa Nui, a job made more difficult by poor weather, including clouds that obscured the horizon. However, two days later Rapa Nui revealed itself. On a cold Fnday morning while most of the crew still sleeping, crewmember Max Yarawamai called to Thompson and Blankenfeld who were at the bow of the eanoe. Arms outstretched, Yarawamai motioned to a thin black line barely visible on the awakening horizon. For a eouple of minutes the other crew members dismissed the possibility this might be Rapa Nui, thinking the island would be visible instead fiom the stern of the eanoe. But as the sunlight slowly illuminated the steep black slopes of Rapa Nui, the travelers begin to beam with excitement. For Yarawamai this was an extraordinary moment. He is the nephew of Mau Piailug, the Satawalese navigator who trained Thompson and other disciples, including Clay Bertlemann, creator of the Makali'i, to navigate traditionally, using the stars. moon, sun, wind and waves. Formed by a series of massive volcanic eruptions, Rapa Nui's coastline is rough. Lined with sea caves and pounding waves, it offers few possibihties to sailing vessles for safe anchorage. But as the crew steered the Hōkūle'a into Hanga Pieo fishing harbor, a Hawaiian chanter and a hālau hula greeted them. Sailing along the jagged coastline, many on board reflected on the experiences of the past two weeks. "This is a time for all Polynesian people to eelebrate," said Baybayan. ■ Editors Note: This article contains quotesfrom the diary excerpts ofChad Baybayan from the Honolulu Advertiser.

Wiih ihe sia*s axid oeean swells eanoe Hōkūle'a reached Rapa Nnl, drawing upon the mana and skills of aneienl Polynesians.

"This is a time for all Polynesian people to celebrate." — Chad Baybayan

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