A few weeks ago, I finally took a break from my typical weekend schedule of work, reading, writing, and more reading. When I used to be out in West O‘ahu and needed mental relief, I would head out at high speed on Farrington Highway to Keawa‘ula—commonly known as Yokohama—at the end of the road. There, in relative isolation and peace and quiet, I could watch the setting of the sun in the mythic landscape once walked by Kāne and Hi‘iakaikapoliopele. On a few lucky occasions, I was greeted by koholā, the whales, right at the time of sunset.

Now that I’m right in the middle of Honolulu, it’s a bit harder to find that kind of quiet escape. Luckily, on the day I went out to take a break, I arrived on a mellow day at Kaimana Beach, by the old natatorium and Kapi‘olani Park. The tradewinds, the Moa‘e, were blowing, rustling the leaves of the niu, the coconut trees. As sunset approached, the sky turned to a series of soft pinks and purples. The experience was simply transcendent.

As the sun sank down into the vast ocean, I thought of Kāne and Kanaloa, our two akua, or deities, who had journeyed through the islands of Hawai‘i, opening springs of fresh water and enjoying ‘awa (kava). Interestingly enough, the sun itself is a kinolau (manifestation) of Kāne, known as ka ‘ōnohi o ka lā, “the eyeball of the sun”. And here with the setting of the sun of Kāne into the vast ocean of Kanaloa, the deity of the seas, I witnessed the ephemeral meeting of these two divine companions, a kind of communion that takes place at the end of every day.

After I returned home, I felt the need to find the old name for Kaimana Beach, also known as Sans Souci. According to Place Names of Hawai‘i, the former name of the area in the vicinity was Kapua – “The Flower”. Once a famous surfing spot in times past, it was filled in to make what is now Kapi‘olani Park. While Kapua may not be the precise name, it was a relief to find a name of the past blossom within my mind.

Going through the snapshots that I had taken that afternoon, I was particularly taken aback by the natural gradients of light of the sky at dusk at Kapua. The figurative expression for dusk in Hawaiian, I learned, is ‘ehu ahiahi – “the dust of the evening”, also signifying twilight and old age.

I’ve been hooked to Māori spin doctor Tiki Taane since I first caught a glimpse of his mindblowing video clip “Tangaroa”, off his debut album album Past, Present, Future. For those unfamiliar with Polynesian mythology, Tangaroa is the Māori god of the sea, corresponding to the Hawaiian akua Kanaloa. The track is a shock to the system, combing traditional Māori chant with a raging dancehall-style beat.

Tiki composed “Tangaroa” in response to the 2004 tsunami and humanity’s lack respect for Tangaroa and his ocean realm. In their first collaboration as father son, Uekaha Taane Tinorau, Tiki’s father, composed the following haka, or chant, for Tangaroa, channeling the spirit of Tangaroa as a force for change. (You can read Tiki and Uekaha’s full commentary on “Tangaroa” here on the Tikidub Productions website.)

Ko Papatuanuku me Ranginui nga matua o te ao
I puta mai nga tamariki nga Atua o te ao
He Atua o te moana
Ko Tangaroa he Atua o te moana
Tu mai te ihi
Tu mai te wehiwehi
Tu mai te wanawana e
Hi ha aue

From the divine heartbeat of Mother Earth and the ever-elusive constant of Sky Father
all descend and all ascend the natural world
The timeless current of tranquil stillness
the harmonic music of ones infinite ocean
Resilient are the vital influences of the universe
Stand liberated by the inner radiance
Be still be silent and all shall be revealed

Na Uekaha nga kupu Maori, na Tamiaho te whakapakehatia

Te Moananui aa Kiwa (The Great Ocean of Kiwa), Kanaloa Series by Māori artist Rua Pick

As someone who’s felt a close kinship to the moana, or the ocean, and to Kanaloa, I felt something deep and familiar when I saw “Tangaroa” for the first time. When it seemed so few remembered to honor our god of the sea, here was an homage to the God of the Sea appropriate for our time but based on the past, modern yet grounded in antiquity. In the video, Tiki looks out in the ocean only to see an ancestor appear to him on the shore. How times have I sat facing the sea or going into waves and felt something great, vast, and powerful, beyond the limits of my rational, Western education, knowing that generations past were with me in the waters.

I know that Kanaloa, our manifestation of the ocean deity in Hawai‘i, is alive. I’m always reminded of him when I see the expanse of blue ocean, hear the roar of the surf, or see his kinolau, or body form, such as the mai‘a (banana), the he‘e (squid or octopus), the koholā (whale) and other forms of ocean life.

FOR MORE INORMATION ON KANALOA/TANGAROA

Learn more about Kanaloa/Tangaroa on Blue Coast’s Kanaloa page or in Martha Beckwiths’s Hawaiian Mythology. For more on Tangaroa, Te Ara Encylopedia of New Zealand has developed a beautiful web page, Tangaroa – The Sea.

FOR MORE ON TIKI TAANE

“Tangaroa” was the first single off of Tiki’s debut Past, Present, Future, which you can purchase at the Tikidub shop as a digital download or CD, shipped directly from Aotearoa/New Zealand to you.