As Faturaki feared, when they finally set-off for Kafiki Island later that afternoon, the skies were overcast while a strong southeasterly was blowing. In open waters and without visibility to guiding stars, he'd have to navigate using swells alone, but even the best wayfinders could lose their bearings without heavens navigation points. He said a prayer to Takaroa, asked for guidance should they lose their way before calling for the sail to be set.

  "Strong winds will bring strong currents," he yelled out to the crew in-between chants, forewarning them. We'll need to adjust course for the drift, he thought. And what else? Will Namaka plague me again with taniwha?

  "Just don't steer these boys into another reef full of Taniwha old man!" Howaru laughed to the skies.

  Toru turned and looked back at Faturaki, the colour drained from his face. Faturaki shook his head at Toru, and called back to Howaru, "And what if I did? It'll be good practise for you to kill a Taniwha. Ten years on that island will have left you dull." He nodded at the fish-spear, stowed beside him. "You need to be sharp, like that obsidian spear."

  "I'm always sharp." Howaru grabbed it and dived over the side of the waka into bluish-green waters.

  "Be careful. That spear is a treasure!" Faturaki shouted, feigning anger. Good, he thought, your arrogance is returning. It is what you'll have to rely on until you're fit again. He decided to change course slightly, to force Howaru into swimming back to the waka once he'd tired himself out.

  His body was beginning to take on weight already. A bit of muscle had returned, like a layer of palm fronds over a skeletal house frame. His organs will need work as well, the heart and lungs, to get back to the required level for a champion warrior. But it was Howaru's mind he was most concerned with. It was more important than any other part of him. I can feed his ego and build up his confidence, but if he doesn't honestly believe it, he will fail.

  When you bed arrogance with skill, you breed confident champions. Faturaki witnessed it over many generations, among ariki and ordinary people alike. Arrogance protects the mind from one's weaknesses. It allows a child to overlook any individual flaw, even those his friends and family would forever remind them of.

  KER-SPLUNK! Howaru dumped a giant mahimahi into the waka. "See that old man!"

  Howaru spat, treading water with the spear held aloft. "It was the first one I saw down there."

  "Looks a bit under," said Faturaki.

  "That's not small old man," he replied, before heaving himself back into the waka.

  "Toru caught one twice as big the other day. Aye Toru?"

  "Aye?"

  Faturaki quickly raised his brow at the warrior, while Howaru was shaking the water out of his hair.

  "Oh, yeah Tohunga, it was a monster." Toru answered, playing along.

  "Stop talking shit Faturaki," Howaru said, before adding, "Where was the leftovers when you picked me up then? I don't remember seeing any Mahimahi, just some old snapper that tasted like Chief _______'s wife."

  Everyone laughed at the insult to Chief ________. His wife ______, from Ahukai tribe, was made infamous when it was discovered she had been taking lovers behind his back, all famous tohunga from across the islands. Everyman knew the legend of her welcoming holes.

  "You must have been last because when I knew her she tasted like Puga. Had the same effect too!"

  "Be quiet Faturaki. You haven't bedded a woman in over fifty years."

  "True. But the last one I had wasn't already fifty. Why you even chased that old trophy is beyond understanding. ______ was grandmother to twenty by the time you had her!"

  "Eh! Howaru went for it as well!" Galiaga, Tufukia, and Toru burst into laughter again, slapping each other on the back, pleading for more of the tale.

  "Howaru will compete for everything. Even women are a challenge to him. He had to have her so that people would know she favoured warriors as much as tohunga. Isn't that right son?"

  "Shut up! All of you!" Howaru shouted, angered by the laughter, "You sound like dogs barking. I'm tired of this talk. Let's go, hoe!" he demanded.

  "I'm the wayfinder on this waka-ama," Faturaki called out from his position in the stern.

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  "Then shut up and find the way!"

  Faturaki let the air cool around them, knowing his son was still adjusting. His mind is still too weak and fearful. Always the anger, bubbling below the surface, always keeping people on edge, wondering if the next thing they say might be their last words. He was disappointed by his son's loss of tempter—a familiar source of destruction and chaos on an otherwise negotiable course.

  He searched the horizon for a break in the clouds and after finding nothing, reverted to swells to measure their course. Takaroa must have been listening to his prayers as a pod of dolphins erupted from the water, bearing south. Faturaki took this as a sign his prayers were answered, changing course to match, while his adopted son sulked for the rest of the day.

  "There it is Faturaki!" Galiaga called out from his position at the front of the waka.

  When the smudge of land became visible on the horizon, just before daybreak of the third day, all five men ceased paddling to admire the view.

  Howaru sat in the rear position before the steersman, Faturaki, who had moved to the centre of the waka-ama adjust the sail to _______, turning the ______ inwards before moving back to the steering paddle to bear east.

  Their destination was Feke Motu, the small island off the coast of Kafiki, the adopted tribe of Howaru. By the time Ra was at the mid-point in the sky, Feke Motu was now clearly visible. It's main beach ______, in the _______ bay, was dotted by Takaroans awaiting their hero's return. Howaru took position at the rear of the boat, steering the waka-ama towards a more northerly course, until they had sailed across the face of the bay as if they were avoiding the beach altogether.

  "Where are we going Howaru?" asked Tufukia.

  Howaru ignored the question, concentrating on keeping the waka-ama pointed towards the Northwestern side of the island.

  "Hoe hard boys."

  The three warriors hacked at the water with their hoes as the westerly pushed them along at a lazy pace. In a moment Howaru called for them to stop. Feke Motu's shores were visible in the distance, with Kafiki beyond that, Takali Foto looming above everything. A small crowd of Takaroan villagers had gathered to welcome their returning hero.

  "Did you bring the Monoi oil Faturaki?" Howaru asked as he stood up from the steering oar.

  Faturaki prepared the coconut oil and Tiare flower, imbuing the mixture with a magical chant before pouring it into a small clay vessel and handing it over to him. Howaru leant his head to the side and poured the Monoi oil into his ear before changing to the other side, repeating the task. The rest of the mixture he rubbed around his nose and mouth, letting it set in the sun, before swallowing the rest.

  Howaru shuffled over to the edge of the waka, dragging the giant anchor stone up to rest in his lap. Nodding to Faturaki, he leaned over the side of the waka before dropping into the water. KER-SPLASH!!!

  Howaru plummeted into the azure depths while cradling the anchor. The waters were beautiful and clear, and his vision extended all the way to the floating island of Feke. For Feke was once the giant Octopus, the Takaroans had made their home on top of, when Kule their tribal hero discovered Kafiki thirty generations ago. Eight massive, trunk-like tentacles, a hundred times larger than the broadest Kauri trees in Autara forest, extended down below the Feke's body, four of which were anchored into the seabed. The other four limbs floated adrift under the surface of the water. These four giant limbs had turned into reefs, supplying the tribe with an abundance of seafood for which they in turn traded to the landlocked tribes of Kafiki.

  Howaru sank steadily into darker water. One of the untethered limbs floated over him, the shadow so large it felt as if day had suddenly turned into night. In this underwater world, Howaru was small. A passing humpback whale, dwarfed by Feke's limb, left Howaru tumbling in it's wake. He carried on diving while sharks twice the length swam by.

  As the seabed approached, he launched himself off the anchor stone swimming freely towards a large coral structure growing up from the ocean floor like a banyan tree. Each limb looking like fingers on a wrinkled hand. A school of Octopi, each the size of Howaru, shot by on their way towards Feke.

  He could see his prize, embedded handle first into the coral. Totokona, his beloved clubaxe, the most famous weapon in all of Kafiki, lay in wait. In one fluid move, Howaru grabbed the handle, before swinging himself over and upright, planting his feet either side of the coral structure. With an immense effort, Howaru pulled his axe free from the coral, fragmenting the shoal sheath.

  Howaru made his way back to the anchor stone. As soon as he gripped the anchor, he spat out the oil and tugged the rope tether. With Totokono in tow, rising towards the sunlit surface, Howaru felt a surge of energy pulsate through his weapon. The bonding awakened by his grip.

  Back on the waka Howaru called for the rowers to resume their path towards Feke's shores. He took a position in the bow while Faturaki continued the lead, beginning a chant as they rode into the bay, escorted by Feke waka filled with warriors and children, cheering their heroes return.

  "The thunder crashes, the lightning flashes,

  Flashes in the heavens, and the earthquake shakes the land."

  Then, waving his whalebone patu, now on one side, now on the

  other, Faturaki chanted:

  "Dip lightly, dip lightly!

  Now a long stroke, a long stroke!

  Plunge deeply your paddles,

  The paddles Manini-tua and Manini-aro

  Tangi-wiwini and Tangi-wawana.

  See, dawn is breaking yonder

  On the peak of Matatera.

  Now, Whaiuru, Whaiuru,

  Now, Whaiato, Whaiato,

  Now a long strong stroke!"

  Here the paddlers paused while the waka-ama swept through the water under the impulse of the last stroke.

  "Now, again, again!

  Again, and again!

  That was not the water from my paddle.

  The water from my paddle.

  Now dig in, cleave it,

  A long, strong stroke!

  Now we're going along,

  How the canoe flies!

  How fine the paddles sound

  All together!

  My grand canoe,

  My treasured canoe,

  A treasure of the waters!"