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| ISBN-13: | 9781775587941 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Auckland University Press |
| Publication date: | 03/16/2015 |
| Sold by: | INDEPENDENT PUB GROUP - EPUB - EBKS |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 100 |
| File size: | 1 MB |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
Whale Years
By Gregory O'Brien
Auckland University Press
Copyright © 2015 Gregory O'BrienAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-77558-794-1
CHAPTER 1
FROM VARIOUS ISLANDS
The length of the voyage
As measured by buckets of salt water
As measured by the shadow of a pohutukawa, variations thereof
As measured by the pollen remaining in the seams of a jacket
As measured by the number of flying fish landed on the deck
As measured by the names of seamounts laid in an unstraight line
As measured by everything in the rope room that is not rope
As was once measured by crayfish
As measured by rocks brought from a far island, a sign of respect
As measured by every previous voyage and every subsequent voyage from now
until the end of time.
Raoul Island
By frigate and bird
we came ashore
fresh-footed on the swaying
headland, by balloon boat
and a piece of
yellow twine. Here we were
set down, buffered in
moss and lichen, riding
the undulations of the seaward lawn – and this
was our unrest. We walked
the edible path, an orchard of oranges
underfoot, mushrooms
like satellite dishes tilted
at the sky. We followed
the flight paths of petrel and red-tailed
tropic bird, of grey ternlet
and masked booby – and theirs was
the song the island sang.
Emotional life of Thomas Bell, Raoul Island
The lake in the poem
depends upon
who stands
before it – Hettie or Bess
or, most likely,
Mary.
It might have been
the Blue or
the Green –
or maybe lakes
had no names
back then?
The hills moved
instinctively
north
or, less often, south
and the transient
Wolverine Rock
which kept reappearing
offshore, but only
upon the birth
of a daughter, was neither
here nor there.
The weather takes
the edges off most things.
The island tethered
or set adrift
depending on which
daughter dives
into which
lake. But it is their eyes
I remember most
not as they
looked, but as they
looked
at me
or at someone who stood
where I stand
as if to lose
what I have lost.
Whale Survey, Raoul Island, with Rosemary Dobson
Two poets on a headland, mid-survey
might pause suddenly and say
will this be your whale, or mine?
Moving, accordingly, from one observation area
to the next, a whale is 'handed over'.
Please take it. No, you first.
Early morning spent 'getting the eye in'
velocity of clouds, sea conditions noted.
Breaching, logging, travelling, the Pacific
divided between Coral Bay and Tropic Bird Face,
Bomb Shed, Hutchies Bluff and Blindspot. Later
Rosemary observed to a friend
from the sharpest point of her triangulation:
If I stand still enough, I can see Wolverine Rock,
a water spout and, westerly, one cow and calf.
The captain of the Rena on Astrolabe Reef
He might have been sharpening up on the sea, as the sea was
sharpening its points. A Number Two, he was told.
The crew was looking sharp, to a point.
From point to point of a chart – and all points north of
the Point of Saying Goodbye. A man goes out on a rib – a point
of departure. A point upon which
they disagreed or agreed to differ. A spike in the weather
another barbed or pointed front approaching. This time
a Number Four Sea. There were other points
of interest, distraction or contention. A compass or protractor
with its pointed readiness, a line following
the point of a pencil from this to that
point. Not to put too fine a point on the matter, the point being
a pointed hull run aground on a pointed reef,
if you get my drift, what is the point in that?
Oneraki
With beaches I am often
in agreement
their slow
shuffle, organisational
skills
oblivious to
whatever traffic
or freight is consigned
them. A beach is never
anybody's opinion
of a beach –
as much wave
as sandy gradient
where the ocean
leaves its coloured pencils, left-
footed jandals ...
Like a beach, I take
what I am given. As
a believer, I too am inhabited by
a fish
or as a wave is
laid gently to
one side – such is
the character of waves, the way
they are
always hurrying
back
to themselves.
White Island (Whakaari)
Her highness and
lowness, her whiteness
and wilderness
untrammelled and
well-travelled, sister
ship, satiated
and sailed upon,
whiteness of her eyes
a pale flock, her
gullness.
A schematic analysis of the first and only book of the explorer Raoul H. Rangitahua (page numbers in brackets)
In the ocean, he encounters a rock that can speak (15), a plume of smoke that could be a cloud (or, surely, a cloud that might be a plume of smoke?) and an assortment of volcanic stones on a headland, scattered or thrown randomly (24). He meets a nymph (25), who leads him through a grove of uprooted trees (27). In the ruins of what appears to be an ancient civilisation, he encounters green parrots (31) and a great many seabirds nested beneath the ground upon which he walks (33). He watches a balloon go up and feels he is observing the passing of a world (38). Because there is no livestock on the island, the shepherds oversee empty fields (41); some inadvertently become experts at the identification of sea turtles or whales in the far distance (42). He is ceremoniously joined to his new home through encounters with the last rat on the island, a mechanical replica, kept as a cautionary presence (43); two iron bed-frames left on a clifftop, possibly to memorialise the tragedy of two lovers (44); a dog kennel with the name 'Tui' above the entrance (45). To his dismay, he realises that the mules he was expecting to transport him, and his not inconsiderable luggage, around the rim of the volcano are, in fact, vehicles with four wheels and internal combustion engines (46). He heads off into the bush to regain some equilibrium (49) and encounters a crater containing a green lake and a blue lake (49). Everywhere he walks, he encounters graves (62). A well-mown lawn memorialises a cherished precursor (66). He ponders the sacrifices and triumphs of earlier inhabitants (67). With his companions, he struggles to erect a tent – a reprise of an engagement, on an earlier voyage, with a giant, mythological bird (80). After a crisis, he finds solace in the sunrise, a redness he likens to the complexion of an embarrassed deity (86). He is eventually led by a nymph back down to the edge of a strong, running sea (139). On Cupid's boat he is taken out beyond the breakers (142). The singing nymphs can be heard above the crashing waves (143). The winged boat is particularly at home amidst the flying fishes. His narrative ends with a grey vessel on a grey sea (148). He is enfolded in sleep (151), the dream preceding the sleep, the sleep preceding the dream.
A summer of inflatable gifts, Pitt Island
Gone the way of all air-
filled things, the first whale
never reached the water, was left
a moment too long on the
compressor. Wary, our children
accompanied the remaining pod
to Flower Pot Bay. Later, head-high
in scurvy grass, a game of hide-
and-seek claimed them, the untended
flotilla disappearing south. Also among
the departures, a sea-horse, butterfly and
coiled serpent. Evening, it dawned
on the teary young, their
knee-deep valediction, while
at the southern end of Flower Pot-
Glory Road, the black sand went about
its daily work, releasing the bones
of Moriori, centuries buried,
trussed and seated, as was custom,
facing the ocean. Each skull
an amphitheatre or occasional vase
of spear-grass and sow thistle, eased
seawards now by wind and hoof.
Westerly swell of nocturnal
sand, torchlight of human bones, and
this last outcrop the vanished whales
go around, the red admirals.
Weather balloon, Raoul Island
We sent him up, never to come
back down:
the god of this island
is a hot air balloon
pale, inscrutable, rising above
green lake and cloud forest.
We let him go
on the seaward lawn
trailing his coral-white laboratory
from whence
to transmit back to us
immensities, unimaginable
altitudes, the intelligence
of ages. Mid-morning, the god
of each new day
is raised
like bread on a baker's table
and set adrift
continuing upwards until
his ever-increasing god-head
explodes and he rejoins
the older gods – frigate bird,
reef shark and flying fish –
in the aloneness
of the crowded sea.
Loneliness of the Raoul Island weather balloon
weather balloon
whether balloon
whenever balloon
whether we goest and from
whence we come balloon
whither balloon
with-her balloon
without-her balloon
wither balloon
The return of Christ to Futuna Chapel
The combined height of three plain-clothed
policemen, or the length, unfurled, of an orange
shawl – how else to measure
the returning bird-man, the weight of him
free-standing or afloat, lifted
from a white unmarked van.
Flesh of the wooden sea-swallow, sap
of his veins, unwound from a rain-drenched blanket
and restored in grey wall-space, partitioned light.
So it must be, in good time, the tree god is
reclaimed by the ordinary forest, the storm
petrel returned to the storm.
Whale years
for Phil Dadson
South-west Pacific
Ocean-sound, what is it
you listen for?
L'Esperance
Anchorstone, sea urchin
waterlogged instrument, tunes
a shrimp whistles.
Rekohu/Chatham Island
If there is
a moon
it is carved into
a dark tree. If
there is
a tree. But
there is always
an ocean.
Orange supply, Raoul Island
Bird rattle of
a cyclone-tossed greenness
ever-decreasing orchard.
Tongatapu
Your eyes were canoes, your brows
outriggers, your hair a wind-tossed
palm, and your bones
an ocean-polished whiteness.
Orongo, Rapa Nui
Easy on the oar
Steady the sail
Hold the thought
Let go the hand
Easter Fracture Zone
In the book of the ocean each wave
is recorded, but the lives of men are left
where they lie.
Plumeria rubra, Tongatapu
aFter
spRing
cAme
aN
anGular
musIc
Piano
Accordianist
fiNgering
everythIng
Quintay, Chile
Everything I heard or
did not hear: the ocean
peeled back, wave by
wave, sigh of a once
whale-laden ocean.
Tongatapu
An ocean never dropped
a fish. The day's first lesson –
'A Quality Education for Now
& Eternity' – at the Ocean of Light
School, Nuku'alofa.
* * *
Just beyond a billboard advertising
Rising Sun Beer
uncertainly, dawn flickers.
Hanga Roa, Rapa Nui
It is written. The chickens
of this island
laid only blue and green
eggs. It is written
a large wave came for them.
It is written.
Kermadec
Vast continent of
every tilted or rolling
thing – eyes and teeth
of implausible fish, stars
and planets on their
undersea orbits.
Southern Pacific Ocean
Arms and legs of
the plundered sea, for whom is it
you dance?
Rekohu
HIGH SEA LOW
LAND LOW SEA
HIGH LAND LOW
Raoul
Ghost shark, anvil,
kite
starboard, wind-
ward, my childhood
on Raoul Island
sustain me.
Pest eradication programme, Tuhua
With the last rats and mice
and the drinkers offloaded
at South East Bay
the Cruising Club buried, conveniently,
in a landslip –
all we now count on:
the numbered days of the numberless
wasps of Mayor Island.
In advance of an oil slick, Bay of Plenty
Light and colour are
we are told
collisions. How then
in the absence of both,
mid-night, mid-ocean
the MV Rena on course
for Astrolabe Reef?
Oneraki Beach, Raoul Island
Unbreaking rocks
Broken sea
Unbroken sea
Breaking rocks
Waiheke Island Water Supply
On lancewood and five finger
twiggy coprosma
and lemonwood, rain
and the memory of
rain and the persistence
of all that is not rain
but upon which
rain falls.
Sunrise, Mayor Island
Obsidian fish
glittering
in its red bucket.
Isla Negra, Chile
Telescope tree
what do you see?
Hummingbird
what have you heard?
Obsidian Headland, South East Bay
When the tin hull strikes
the glass headland
the island rings
like a bell. And the boat, also
perfectly pitched.
Westerly over Te Whanga Lagoon, Rekohu
Great tongue, speak
now or forever
enfold us
in ribbonwood and matapo
indigenous flower
forget me not
forsake me now.
Off Mayor Island
A school of kahawai
the educated eye's
encyclopediae.
Kermadec Trench
Were there words
to inscribe
in this blueness
lines for the placation
of a storm god
delirious mathematics
of the deep, every
living thing with which
the ocean is awash.
Quintay, Chile
Mariners can read the ocean
as you would a book, each wave
the upturned corner of a page.
Pitch
In the fallen nikau forest, a tui
in two halves, two halves
of a song, sung.
Tuhua
wave-sharpened
headland, headland-
sharpened wave
Te Whanga Lagoon
STILL
ECHOING
ECHOING STILL
STILL
ECHOING
ECHOING STILL
STILL
ECHOING
ECHOING STILL
STILL
ECHOING
ECHOING STILL
STILL
ECHOING
ECHOING STILL
STILL
ECHOING
ECHOING STILL
Star of Bengal Bank
Everything overheard
or lost from
hearing: song of
coral palm and
one-eyed urchin, chapter
and verse of
the Isaiah-fish, bird-
burrowed sea
in which we dive down
and are retrieved. That
which light enters so
as never to leave.
Oneraki Beach, Raoul Island
I was raised by rocks, but not
as one of them. Upended
by storms, I was raised
by nikau palms, but I was never
one of them. I was raised by waves –
the waves talking, always talking
to themselves, always listening –
and raised as one of them.
South-east Pacific
Ocean-sound, what is it
you listen for?
A burning tyre, Nuku'alofa
With guavas and Pablo Neruda, we came
to the greenness
of this land, but our attempts
to meet the king
came to nothing. Confined to the blackness
of my shell, I was a crab
tied in red string, well-positioned
at the royal feast, but not
as I would have wished.
That I might speak
briefly with his highness
of such things
as weigh upon me. To the foreshore
I fled, while in the distance
his crab-shaped crown shook
its pincers at the sun.
Unfathomable morning,
these things heavy
upon my heart, I sought counsel
amidst the graves
of his ancestors – four corners of the sky
held in place
by volcanic boulders – and beneath
the unmoving clock faces
of his kingdom. Minute hands, hour hands ...
I waved my pincers
in bafflement. Together, you and I
sought instead
the company of shellfish – those lowliest
citizens of this island –
in the mudflats where immigrant families
competed with pigs
for mussels. Later, you were a weather balloon
that you might gain
his attention, but as the day wore on
you were caught in an updraft
above the Cathedral of
the Burning Tyre – and it was not a done thing
to be higher than
his kingliness.
Nightfall, we were both
brass instruments
of the Royal Army Band – that we might
phrase our questions
in a language he understood. But,
for the sound of ourselves,
we could not hear
a word of his reply. Not for
the sirens of a sinking ferry, brakes
and stammering exhaust of the royal carriage –
a London cab crossing
the potholed kingdom.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Whale Years by Gregory O'Brien. Copyright © 2015 Gregory O'Brien. Excerpted by permission of Auckland University Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Table of Contents
Contents
One From various islands,The length of the voyage,
Raoul Island,
Emotional life of Thomas Bell, Raoul Island,
Whale Survey, Raoul Island, with Rosemary Dobson,
The captain of the Rena on Astrolabe Reef,
Oneraki,
White Island (Whakaari),
A schematic analysis ...,
A summer of inflatable gifts, Pitt Island,
Weather balloon, Raoul Island,
Loneliness of the Raoul Island weather balloon,
The return of Christ to Futuna Chapel,
Whale years,
A burning tyre, Nuku'alofa,
Luminosity,
Two Book of numbered days,
I South-west Pacific: Nuku'alofa, Tonga, May 2012,
II South-east Pacific: Rapa Nui/Easter Island, July 2012,
Three Memory of a fish,
Acknowledgements,