by Graeme Lay
‘I will.’
‘Very well. I’ll get Samwell to examine my men too and issue the same order to any who show similar symptoms.’ Clerke stood up, and immediately the hacking cough started again. He recovered, then said huskily, ‘I must return to my ship.’ He stared into his kerchief. ‘Let’s hope we find a suitable anchorage, and soon.’
It was just before midnight on Christmas Eve when they witnessed a startling phenomenon. They were two leagues off O-why-hee’s south coast and there was a crescent moon. In the coast’s pitch blackness they saw an orange glow and a gigantic column of the same colour bursting from the island. The glowing pillar rose and rose, then exploded, shooting fiery traces through the blackness, lighting up the sky like a giant firework.
‘A detonating volcano,’ King said in awe, standing alongside James.
‘Yes. And so close to the sea.’ He put his scope to his eye. ‘The lava is actually flowing into it.’
Others came up from below to see the sight and exclaimed at the volcano’s radiance and power. Millions of sparks flew from its plume, and the stark contrast between the sky’s velvet blackness and the incandescence of the lava was hypnotic. Where the lava river met the water it was exploding, sending detonations across the sea to the ships. ‘Molten rock and seawater: a volatile combination,’ King mused.
As James and King stared at the extraordinary sight, Gore joined them on the quarterdeck, a mug of brandy in his hand. Eyes fixed on the fiery orange river, he raised his glass to the volcano. ‘Merry Christmas, gentlemen.’
After arduously doubling the cape at the southern end of O-why-hee, then tacking for 10 more days, the sloops were worked slowly along the island’s west coast. On the first day of January they celebrated the New Year, 1779, with a luncheon of roast pork, sweet potatoes and sauerkraut.
Over glasses of port wine, James proposed a toast. ‘Gentlemen, to our sovereign King George, and to next year in Hudson Bay!’
The others raised their glasses and drank. Their thoughts were identically sombre: But first, through the freezing Arctic Ocean and its menacing ice mountains.
At dawn on 16 January they espied a wide bay to starboard. About a mile across, it had low headlands at its northern and southern ends, both covered in coconut palms. As the helmsmen guided the ship towards the more sheltered northern headland, those at the rail could see that it was a black shelf of lava. Waves slopped against it and shot fountains of spray into the air. There were clusters of huts among the palms, and outrigger canoes drawn up on the shores of the bay.
A huge cliff face of coarse, purplish rock, pocked with cave openings, soared from the sea near the northern end of the bay. Within the bay itself waves lapped at a rocky shoreline, while above the foreshore the land swelled steeply upwards then vanished into a blanket of grey cloud. They could see a patchwork of crops and more palms growing across the steep slope before it reached the cloud cover.
James and Gore stood side-by-side on the mainmast platform, observing the bay and the terrain above it through their scopes. ‘A likely anchorage,’ James said.
Gore nodded. ‘Sheltered, certainly.’
‘Yes. Tell Bligh to hoist the launch and take soundings.’
Both men descended to the deck. While Gore and Bligh supervised the launching of the boat, King joined James on the quarterdeck. Putting his scope to his eye, he focused on the precipitous cliff and the land rising above the bay. He said quietly, ‘The caves in that cliff resemble the eye sockets of skulls. They give this place a sinister appearance.’
James grunted. ‘That statement resembles sailorly superstition to me, King.’
The officer made no reply, but kept staring towards the huge cliff, his frown deepening.
Bligh and Discovery’s master, Edgar, were sent out in the launch and sounded a sandy bottom at 14 fathoms. Good holding ground, Bligh reported. Eminently suitable, James decided, and he ordered Resolution hove to at the northern end of the bay and her anchors lowered. After Discovery was signalled, Clerke gave the same order and the sister vessel anchored only 200 yards away. The air was still and sultry, the water of the bay so clear they could see manta rays gliding through it, waving their great wings as they went.
Yet the sloops’ anchors had barely settled when they witnessed a spectacle the like of which none of them had ever seen before.
Thirty
CANOES, EVERYWHERE. NOT DOZENS, NOT HUNDREDS, but over a thousand canoes streaming out from the headlands and the shore, bearing men, women and children. Drums beat out a pulsating refrain, and as the paddles dipped and rose, singing drifted across the water and reached the ships. Certain words were repeated, over and over. ‘Aloha! Aloha!’ ‘He hale kou! He hale kou!’ ‘Lono! Lono! Lono!’ Hundreds more people were lined up on the shore, and along the cliff-top above the bay were still more. It seemed that the whole of O-why-hee had heard of the two great vaka and had turned out to greet them.
In minutes the canoes had surrounded both ships and the natives were scaling the hulls and swarming aboard. Others stayed in the water, ducking and diving like porpoises as they swam around the vessels, hanging from the cables, lunging at the figurehead, climbing over the rudder stock. Those who had reached the decks dropped the baskets of food they carried and thronged the ships. As they roamed they picked up anything they could—boat hooks, buckets, ropes, belaying pins, fishing lines. Some men scrambled up the rat lines and into the rigging.
The crew viewed the chaos with amazement. Then the women, not all of them young, approached the crewmen, stroking their arms, running their hands through their hair, caressing their groins. All resistance vanished, replaced by shameless lust. Within minutes James’s ban on fornication was being blatantly breached. The women took the lead, flinging their arms around the seamen, tugging at their belts, reaching for their cocks. The crew responded with alacrity, hauling off their breeches and embracing the lithe brown bodies. Couples dashed below to do their fucking. Minutes later the women returned, brandishing the currency of copulation—nails, knives, spoons, mirrors, items of clothing.
James and his officers watched the inundation helplessly from the quarterdeck, realising they could do nothing to stem this floodtide. Staring across at Discovery, Gore cried, ‘Good God, look at that!’ So many people were hanging onto the larboard side of her hull that the ship was heeling.
Staring at the tumult below, King shook his head. ‘This is not a welcome,’ he murmured, ‘it’s an invasion.’
For James, this was too much. Infuriated by the way his decree was being so flagrantly violated, and the blatant attempts at stealing, he yelled down to Phillips, standing beside the mainmast, musket at his side. ‘Fire at the thieves! Small shot only.’
Shambolically, those of the marines who were not below fornicating turned their scatterguns on the crowd. The natives who were struck with small shot flinched and cried out, but were otherwise undeterred. The decks and rigging continued to seethe with the O-why-heeans, jostling for material and sexual favours.
Gore gave James a resigned look. ‘It cannot be stopped, Captain. It is out of control.’
James picked up his stick. ‘It must be stopped.’
As he moved towards the steps that led down to the mid-deck, two more male figures climbed the hull steps. They were both tall, one unusually so. One was young and slender, the other much older. Both wore feathered cloaks and the woven headdresses that denoted them as chiefs.
At the sight of the pair, the activities of the people on the decks ceased. Their arms fell to their sides and they stared respectfully at the two latest arrivals. Both men went up to James, who with his tricorn, sword and dress uniform was obviously the ship’s authority figure. The older chief patted his chest and said, ‘Kanina’; the other did the same and announced his name as Palea. James nodded to them, then waved at the crowd of natives on the ship, who were already reverting to unruliness. ‘Tell them to stop!’ he demanded.
At that moment a naked woman ran up from belo
w, her long hair flying. She brandished her trophy for the crowd: a pair of sailor’s cotton drawers. Shouting with delight, she ran straight into Lieutenant Williamson, then collapsed in a heap on the deck.
Palea scowled, dragged her over to the rail by her hair and in one deft movement scooped her up and hurled her overboard. The other O-why-heeans shrieked with delight, then the clamour began to subside again. Gradually, a semblance of order was restored.
With Gibson and King acting as interpreters, and the other natives observing the discussion closely, Kanina and Palea explained something of their island’s authority structure. The older chief pointed towards the island and said that O-why-hee also had an ali’i nui, a paramount chief. ‘He is like our king is to us,’ Gibson added. Palea then told Gibson that he helped the King of O-why-hee.
‘In what way does he help the king?’ asked Gore.
Gibson translated the question. Palea grinned and made vertical stroking movements with his right hand. Puzzled, James asked Gibson, ‘What does he mean?’
‘Palea says he is one of the king’s lovers.’ Gibson shuffled his boots in embarrassment. ‘He services the king. After the manner of Onan.’
Palea seemed not the slightest bit embarrassed at his disclosure. Tapping his chest proudly, he said, ‘’Aikane.’
Gibson and King understood. Male lover. Blushing, King said to James, ‘It seems that here it is a great privilege to … frig the king.’
It was James’s turn to feel disgust. In no way did he approve of this custom. Why did their king not practise the time-honoured method of release, fornication exclusively with a woman? They had observed other men of that type in the South Sea islands, especially in the Society group. King had included the various names for them in his lexicon, such as ‘raerae’ (Otaheite) and ‘fakaleiti’ (the Friendly Isles). No shame or embarrassment seemed to attach to these sexually versatile persons.
At that moment another figure climbed aboard, inducing more quietness in the natives. Introduced to James by Kanina as Koa, he was unprepossessing in appearance. A diminutive, hunched figure, he had the scaly skin and pink eyes of a hardened kava drinker. Koa was a kahuna, Kanina explained.
‘That means he is a priest,’ Gibson said. ‘So he is also a very important person on this island.’
Koa walked up to James, chanting a greeting. He draped a red cloak around James’s shoulders and presented him with three piglets, some coconuts, fruit and sweet potatoes. After James accepted the gifts gratefully, the three leaders were invited below to dine with the officers in the Great Cabin.
Over the midday meal, Gibson’s linguistic skills again proved valuable. James and his officers learned that the bay in which they had anchored was called Kealakekua and that this name meant ‘Pathway of the Gods’. The great cliff that rose above the bay was called Pali Kapu O Keoua, which meant ‘The Forbidden Cliff of Keoua’. Koa explained that Keoua had been a great chief of O-why-hee, and that his bones were kept in one of the caves in the cliff, which was why it was sacred to the people here. Most people who lived around the bay were maka’ainana—commoners—and their role was to tend the land and provide food for the chiefs and priests like themselves, Kanina explained. King took down these names and their meanings diligently in his notebook.
The talk continued, haltingly and with much gesticulating on the part of Kanina, Palea and Koa. They said that the volcano overlooking the coast was called Mauna Loa, which meant ‘Long Mountain’. It erupted regularly, Koa said, miming explosive movements with his peeling hands. The exploding volcano they had seen from the ships three weeks ago was called Killa-way-ah; within its crater dwelt Pele, the O-why-heean goddess of fire. This time of the year was known as Makahiki, Kanina said. It was a time when the season of fertility was celebrated, and coincided with the appearance of the Pleiades star cluster on the horizon. At Kanina’s mention of the word Makahiki, Koa closed his eyes and intoned something that sounded like a prayer.
Throughout the talking and translating, James became acutely aware that the three men were staring at him in a very strange way. They seemed unable to take their eyes off him, and their stares began to unnerve him. Again Koa mentioned the word ‘Makahiki’, then uttered some sort of prayer, which included repetitions of the word ‘Lono’. As he did so, Kanina and Palea bent their heads reverently. Raising his hands, Koa made another speech while inclining his head towards James at the head of the table.
‘What’s he saying now?’ James asked. Gibson related what the priest had said, speaking slowly and shifting uncomfortably on his chair as he did so. The others listened attentively, their eyes widening in amazement at what they heard.
19 JANUARY 1779
My dearest Elizabeth,
Three days ago we anchored off an island called O-why-hee. Here, as for you, it is mid-winter, but as we are well to the south of the Tropic of Cancer, the climate is winterless. Temperatures are constantly over 90 degrees and there are frequent squalls and downpours of warm rain, especially in the afternoons.
Three O-why-heean leaders who came aboard Resolution told us that this time of the year is called by them Makahiki. It is a traditional annual wet-season festival, a celebration of the time of fertility. The natives believe that Makahiki coincides with a time when their ancestor god and sacred leader, Lono, will reappear.
By a most remarkable coincidence, our arrival in this bay coincided with the Makahiki festivities. So, like the Kow-ay-eeans whom we visited a year ago, the people here believe that I am the god, Lono, come back in another guise. The conviction that I am Lono reincarnate explains the tumultuous welcome we received upon arrival.
This belief is preposterous, of course. But it is one which I will not strenuously disabuse them of so long as we can benefit from its associated bounties, viz, abundant supplies of fresh food, water and wood. Our coming was accompanied by an outbreak of copulation—part of the fertility celebrations, I assume—which to my chagrin I, like King Canute attempting to halt the incoming tide, was unable to prevent. My men are desperate for women, and those here are only too willing to help them consummate their lust. Although my ban on having the women stay aboard can be enforced, I have given up trying to stop the fornication on land. To attempt to do so is futile, with so many of the men having to go ashore and carry out essential duties. But the spread of venereal distempers as a consequence of their carnality is a lamentable prospect to me.
My health continues to give me cause for concern. The pain in my gut is worse and I find it harder than ever to sleep. I have also been passing blood. My demon self still appears to me, especially in my dreams, to the extent that I feel I am being haunted by him. I continue to have outbursts of temper that I am unable to control. When events turn against me I erupt like the volcano on this island, in spite of the consternation that these tantrums cause.
The leading priest of this area, a man called Koa, invited me to visit his shrine. So two days after we anchored in the bay, I was rowed ashore.
James, Clerke, King and Gore sat in the stern as the launch was pulled towards the southern end of the bay. The water was translucent, the bay’s bottom clearly visible. Manta rays sped away at the launch’s approach, skimming above the sand like dark ghosts, and a pair of spinner dolphins began to accompany the vessel, twisting and turning just ahead of its bow. High above them, red-tailed tropicbirds, trailing long, thin tails, performed displays of aerial courtship, and frigate birds, their bent wings extended, rode the air waves streaming from the lip of the great lava cliff.
Staring landward, Gore remarked, ‘Such a dramatic place. That cliff must be a thousand feet high.’
Breakers crashed against the rubbly base of the cliff, where at some stage there had obviously been a huge rock fall. They could also see, above the bay, plots of cultivated land separated by walls of basalt, while on still higher land—the steep slopes of the volcano—there were more gardens, of sugar cane, plantains and potatoes. The upper slopes and summit of Mauna Loa were hidden by dense c
loud.
As it reached the centre of the bay the launch was joined by several double-hulled canoes which had come out from the southern promontory, each hull bearing five men. As the canoes moved closer, James and his officers saw that the men’s heads were encased in round gourd helmets. Decorated on top with ferns, the gourds had a section cut out at the front, revealing the wearer’s eyes, cheeks and nose. Strips of coloured cloth hung from the bottom of the masks, so that from the neck up the canoeists resembled medieval knights. As they paddled they chanted incantations, suggesting that they too were holy men of some sort.
Closer to the shore, James and the others witnessed another surprising sight. Naked men, women and children lay on their stomachs on planks of thin wood, paddling with their hands in order to overtake the waves which were forming in the bay. When they had caught a wave in this way, it swept them in towards the beach. Some paddlers were even able to stand up on the planks, as if they were riding circus ponies. The landing party watched, fascinated by their skills. Other naked natives were borne along by the waves without planks, their naked brown bodies swept shoreward. ‘They’re like the dolphins,’ observed Clerke admiringly.
This sight was superseded by yet another spectacle. King pointed at the shore. ‘Good grief, look at them all!’ Spread along the stony beach and foreshore were thousands of natives, awaiting the arrival of the visitors from another world. More spectators stood on the sloping ground above the foreshore, and on the crest of the great cliff. These multitudes were waiting in an utter and unnerving silence.
The launch was pulled into the shallows and James stepped out. The people on the shore immediately fell forward, pressed their foreheads to the ground and remained prostrate. ‘Welcome to Kealakekua Bay, Captain Lono,’ said Gore. ‘If this place is the pathway to the gods, then the chief god has followed it.’
James ignored this comment, staring instead at the shore, where Koa was waiting to greet him. The white-caped, helmeted holy man was accompanied by a quartet of attendants, each bearing a long white wand, the top of which was covered with a tuft of dog’s hair.
