Te Awa o te Atua

Leaving Hawaiki

'Where is he?' I wondered. The sea felt cold without Ngatoro-i-rangi. My master and best friend would come down every night to talk to me. I glanced up at the dancing light from the torches, but there was none of the usual laughter. What was taking him so long? I swam closer to shore and squinted at the shoreside hut where Ngatoro-i-rangi stayed. Strangely enough, I didn't notice the silent, human figure sneaking towards me.

"Horomatangi!" a strong voice called from my right. I jumped and created a mini tsunami, covering half the beach. "Ack!" the voice sounded strangely familiar "Horomatangi, I'm soaking now!"

"Sorry," I mumbled as I surfaced. "I didn't know it was you." I ducked my head and let the saltwater flow over my snout. Swinging my tail around to keep me afloat, I glanced sheepishly at Ngatoro-i-rangi. "Where were you?" I asked lifting my face out of the glistening water.

"I was in a meeting with my people," Ngatoro-i-rangi announced. "We have decided to leave Hawaiki."

"But this island has been our home since I hatched!" I cried. "We can't just leave!" The man who raised me to love Hawaiki was now convincing me to leave.

"Horomatangi," my master said gently. "Stories tell of a land filled with treasures of safety and food. We must find this place, our tribe is starving." He looked so hopeful, I didn't want to say no.

"Te Arawa will carry us to our new home," Ngatoro-i-rangi called to his people. "We will find this land and live our lives to the fullest." My friend's voice was muffled as my head was underwater; I watched the colourful, tropical fish dance through the bright coral. Doubtful, I sighed. This land might not even exist but Ngatoro-i-rangi was so excited and no one could say no. He looked like a child who had been handed his first mango when he talked about this land.

"Let's go!" I heard Ngatoro-i-rangi's loud voice call and suddenly the waka above me sunk about three inches deeper. I kicked up towards the surface, waiting to push the boat to its destination.

"Horomatangi!" Ngatoro-i-rangi yelled expectantly. I winced at how loudly he yelled but played my part and pushed the waka away from my home to find this land that my friend was convinced was real. The tropical fish disappeared into their coral homes as I used my tail as a powerful propeller. I watched the sea floor slide down into deep, blue darkness. With only one glance back, I swam away from the only home I knew.