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247. Yesterday evening, happening on another TV-program, I saw a Hawaiian woman who chuckled when interviewed about what memories remained after Captain Cook's visit to the island 240 years earlier. Let's remind ourselves:

... Cook's first visit, to Kaua'i Island in January 1778, fell within the traditional months of the New Year rite (Makahiki). He returned to the Islands late in the same year, very near the recommencement of the Makahiki ceremonies. Arriving now off northern Maui, Cook proceeded to make a grand circumnavigation of Hawai'i Island in the prescribed clockwise direction of Lono's yearly procession, to land at the temple in Kealakekua Bay where Lono begins and ends his own circuit. The British captain took his leave in early February 1779, almost precisely on the day the Makahiki ceremonies closed. But on his way out to Kahiki, the Resolution sprung a mast, and Cook committed the ritual fault of returning unexpectedly and unintelligibly. The Great Navigator was now hors catégorie, a dangerous condition as Leach and Douglas have taught us, and within a few days he was really dead - though certain priests of Lono did afterward ask when he would come back ...

... Nevertheless, by virtue of a series of spectacular coincidences, Cook made a near-perfect ritual exit on the night of 3 February. The timing itself was nearly perfect, since the Makahiki rituals would end 1 February (±1 day), being the 14th day of the second Hawaiian month [Kau-lua]. This helps explain Mr. King's entry for 2 February in the published Voyage: 'Terreoboo [Kalaniopu'u] and his Chiefs, had, for some days past, been very inquisitive abouth the time of our departure' - to which his private journal adds, '& seem'd well pleas'd that it was soon'. Captain Cook, responding to Hawaiian importunities to leave behind his 'son', Mr. King [sic!], had even assured Kalaniopu'u and the high priest that he would come back again the following year. Long after they had killed him, the Hawaiians continued to believe this would happen. 

With the high priest's permission, the British just before leaving removed the fence and certain images of Hikiau temple for firewood. Debate raged in the nineteenth century about the role of this purported 'sacriledge' in Cook's death, without notice, however, that following Lono's sojourn the temple is normally cleared and rebuilt - indeed, the night the British left one of the temple houses was set on fire. Among the other ritual coincidences, perhaps the most remarkable was the death of poor old Willie Watman, seaman A. B., on the morning of 1 February. Watman was the first person among Cook's people to die at Kealakekua: on the ceremonial day, so far as can be calculated, that the King's living god Kahoali'i would swallow the eye of the first human sacrifice of the New Year. And it was the Hawaiian chief - or by one account, the King himself - who specifically requested that old Watman be buried at Hikiau temple.

Messrs. Cook and King read the burial service, thus introducing Christianity to the Sandwich Islands, with the assistance however of the high priest Ka'oo'oo and the Lono 'brethren', who when the English had finished proceeded to make sacrifices and perform ceremonies at the grave for three days and nights. So in the early hours of 4 February, Cook sailed out of Kealakekua Bay, still alive and well. The King, too, had survived Lono's visit and incorporated its tangible benefits, such as iron adzes and daggers. In principle, the King would now make sacrifices to Kuu and reopen the agricultural shrines of Lono. The normal cosmic course would be resumed.

Hence the ultimate ritual coincidence, which was meteorological: one of the fertilizing storms of winter, associated with the advent of Lono, wreaked havoc with the foremast of the Resolution, and the British were forced to return to Kealakekua for repairs on 11 February 1779 ... Mr. King remarks that there were not as many hundreds of people at their return to Kealakekua as there had been thousands when they first came in. A tabu was in effect, which was ascribed to the king's absence. By the best evidence, the British had interrupted the annual bonito-fishing rite, the transition from the Makahiki season to normal temple ceremonies. Cook was now hors cadre. And things fell apart ...

... Early on Sunday morning, 14 February 1779, Captain Cook went ashore with a party of marines to take the Hawaiian king, Kalaniopu'u, hostage against the return of the Discovery's cutter, stolen the night before in a bold maneuver - of which, however, the amiable old ruler was innocent. At the decisive moment, Cook and Kalaniopu'u, the God and the King, will confront each other as cosmic adversaries. Permit me thus an anthropological reading of the historical texts. For in all the confused Tolstoian narratives of the affray - among which the judicious Beaglehole refuses to choose - the one recurrent certainty is a dramatic structure with the properties of a ritual transformation. During the passage inland to find the king, thence seaward with his royal hostage, Cook is metamorphosed from a being of veneration to an object of hostility. When he came ashore, the common people as usual dispersed before him and prostrated face to earth; but in the end he was himself precipitated face down in the water by a chief's weapon, an iron trade dagger, to be rushed upon by a mob exulting over him, and seeming to add to their own honors by the part they could claim in his death: 'snatching the daggers from each other', reads Mr. Burney's account, 'out of eagerness to have their share in killing him'. In the final ritual inversion, Cook's body would be offered in sacrifice by the Hawaiian King ...

The Hawaiian woman who was interviewed chuckled because the assassination of Captain Cook coincided with the day we have named All Hearts' Day - when in February 14 (2-14) the war-god Kuu returned to power. The assassination of Julius Caesar came a month (29 days) later (and 365 - 29 = 336 = 14 * 24 = 12 * 28):

... The brutes of spring caused the downfall of both Captain Cook and Julius Caesar. We are close to the key myth of mankind, that which explains the regeneration of sun and of growth. Once at least some people kept the tradition living. I became interested in what really happened at March 15 and reopened Henrikson to find out: Caesar had been forewarned of the threat by the prophet Spurinna, who told him that a great threat was coming at Idus Martiae or just before [i.e. at 3-14]. The day arrived and Caesar was still living, walking to his meeting with the Senate when he happened to encounter Spurinna and told him jokingly that he was still alive. Spurinna calmely answered that the day had yet not ended. The Romans divided their months in two parts and the dividing point was Idus, which in some way was connected with full moon. March 15 was the midpoint of March, which is close to spring equinox. The old agricultural year defined the beginning of the year to the time when sun returned, and it was connected with Mars ...

The old year ended at February 1 - when poor old Willie Watman died - when the king's living god Kahoali'i swallowed the eye of the first human sacrifice of the New Year.

... in the ceremonial course of the coming year, the king is symbolically transposed toward the Lono pole of Hawaiian divinity ... It need only be noticed that the renewal of kingship at the climax of the Makahiki coincides with the rebirth of nature. For in the ideal ritual calendar, the kali'i battle follows the autumnal appearance of the Pleiades, by thirty-three days - thus precisely, in the late eighteenth century, 21 December, the winter solstice. The king returns to power with the sun. Whereas, over the next two days, Lono plays the part of the sacrifice. The Makahiki effigy is dismantled and hidden away in a rite watched over by the king's 'living god', Kahoali'i or 'The-Companion-of-the-King', the one who is also known as 'Death-is-Near' (Koke-na-make). Close kinsman of the king as his ceremonial double, Kahoali'i swallows the eye of the victim in ceremonies of human sacrifice ...

... In the morning of the world, there was nothing but water. The Loon was calling, and the old man who at that time bore the Raven's name, Nangkilstlas, asked her why. 'The gods are homeless', the Loon replied. 'I'll see to it', said the old man, without moving from the fire in his house on the floor of the sea. Then as the old man continued to lie by his fire, the Raven flew over the sea. The clouds broke. He flew upward, drove his beak into the sky and scrambled over the rim to the upper world. There he discovered a town, and in one of the houses a woman had just given birth. The Raven stole the skin and form of the newborn child. Then he began to cry for solid food, but he was offered only mother's milk. That night, he passed through the town stealing an eye from each inhabitant. Back in his foster parents' house, he roasted the eyes in the coals and ate them, laughing. Then he returned to his cradle, full and warm. He had not seen the old woman watching him from the corner - the one who never slept and who never moved because she was stone from the waist down. Next morning, amid the wailing that engulfed the town, she told what she had seen. The one-eyed people of the sky dressed in their dancing clothes, paddled the child out to mid-heaven in their canoe and pitched him over the side ...

Next date came 10 days later, in the midst of the annual bonito-fishing rite:

... the British were forced to return to Kealakekua for repairs on 11 February 1779 ... Mr. King remarks that there were not as many hundreds of people at their return to Kealakekua as there had been thousands when they first came in. A tabu was in effect, which was ascribed to the king's absence. By the best evidence, the British had interrupted the annual bonito-fishing rite, the transition from the Makahiki season to normal temple ceremonies. Cook was now hors cadre. And things fell apart ...

... I'a is the general name for fishes,' Pratt notes in his Samoan dictionary, 'except the bonito and shellfish (mollusca and crustacea).'

We may forgive the inaccuracy of the biology in our gratitude for the former note. The bonito is not a fish, the bonito is a gentleman, and not for worlds would Samoa offend against his state. The Samoan in his 'upu fa'aaloalo has his own Basakrama, the language of courtesy to be used to them of high degree, to chiefs and bonitos.

One does not say that he goes to the towns which are favorably situated for the bonito fishery; he says rather that (funa'i) he goes into seclusion, he withdraws himself. He finds that the fleet which is to chase the bonito has an honourable name for this use, that the chief fisher has a name that he never uses ashore. He will not in so many words say that he is going to fish for bonito, he says that he is going out paddling in the courtesy language (alo); he even avoids all chance of offending this gentleman of his seas by saying, instead of the blunt vulgarity of the word fishing, rather that he is headed in some other direction (fa'asanga'ese). He does not paddle with the common word but with that (pale) which he uses in compliment to his chief's canoe. He will not so much as speak the word which means canoe; he calls it by another word (tafānga), which may mean the turning away to one side.

In this unmentioned canoe he may not carry water by its common name, he must call it (mālū) the cool stuff. He will not mention his eyes in the canoe; he calls his visor (taulauifi) the shield for his chestnut leaves.

Even the word for large becomes something else (sumalie) in this great game. The hook must be tied with ritual care; it is called (pa) out of the common name for hook; no bonito will take a hook which has not been properly tied; the fastening is veiled under the name (fanua) for the land. There are many rules to observe; their disregard is called (sopoliu) the stepping over the bilges, from the most unfortunate thing that the fisher can do. He may hail the bonito by his name (atu), or he may call him affectionately or coaxingly (pa'umasunu) old singed-skin.

If he has the fortune to hook his bonito he must raise the shout of triumph, Tu! Tu! Tu e!, not his whole name but one of its syllables; he triumphs as over a foe honorably slain in combat, but he avoids hurting the feelings of the other gentlemen of the sea.

The first bonito caught in a new canoe he calls (ola) life; the first bonito caught in any season bears a special name (ngatongiā), of uncertain signification, and he presents it to his chief. His catch he reckons by a special notation; to his numerals he adds the word (tino) body; he counts them as one-body, two-body, three-body.

Parts of the gentleman have specific names of their own; his fins (asa) and his entrails (fe'afe'a) are called in terms nowhere else employed; the tidbit of the belly part, which the fisher must give to his chief, is called (ma'alo) by the honorific title of the chief's abdomen.

And if the rites were not duly observed, if the hook was not rightly tied, if the fisher was so incautious as to mention his eyes, if one of a hundred faults was committed and the fishing was in vain, then the fisher acknowledged his ill success abjectly by saying that (maloā) he was conquered. Such is the language Samoans use to the gentleman of the seas, and he is not i'a ...

After 13 days counted from the beginning of the new year (i.e. 3 days after 11 February) came the transformation to the war-god Kuu.

... In many Polynesian cultures the bodies of gods were conceived of as covered with feathers and they were frequently associated with birds: in Tahiti and the Society Islands, bird calls on the marae signaled the presence of the gods. Hawaiian feathered god figures generally depict only the head and neck of the god ...

Day 45 (= 31 + 14) counted from January 1 was February 14 (2-14), and 354 + 45 = 399 (or counting also day zero: 400).

... Taw, Tav or Taf is the twenty-second and last letter in many Semitic abjads ... In gematria Tav represents the number 400, the largest single number that can be represented without using the Sophit forms ...

... Lau, s. Haw., to feel for, spread out, expand, be broad, numerous; s. leaf of a tree or plant, expanse, place where people dwell, the end, point; sc. extension of a thing; the number four hundred ...

... Murzim [β Canis Majoris], generally but less correctly Mirzam, and occasionally Mirza, is from Al Murzim, the Announcer², often combined by the Arabs with β Canis Minoris in the plural Al Mirzamāni, or as Al Mirzamā al Shi'rayain, the two Sirian Announcers; Ideler's idea of the applicability of this title being that this star announced the immediate rising of the still brighter Sirius. ² Literally the Roarer, and so another of the many words in the Arabic tongue for the lion, of which that people boasted of having four hundred ...

... The Sacred Book of the ancient Maya Quiche, the famous Popol Vuh (the Book of Counsel) tells of Zipacna, son of Vucub-Caquix (= Seven Arata). He sees 400 youths dragging a huge log that they want as a ridgepole for their house. Zipacna alone carries the tree without effort to the spot where a hole has been dug for the post to support the ridgepole. The youths, jealous and afraid, try to kill Zipacna by crushing him in the hole, but he escapes and brings down the house on their heads. They are removed to the sky, in a 'group', and the Pleiades are called after them ...

There was a connection between the youths in the Pleiades and a cycle of 400.

... The word lau, in the sense of expanse, and hence 'the sea, ocean', is not now used in the Polynesian dialects. There remain, however, two compound forms to indicate its former use in that sense: lau-make, Haw., lit. the abating or subsiding of water, i.e., drought; rau-mate, Tah., to cease from rain, be fair weather; rau-mate, N. Zeal., id., hence summer.The other word is koo-lau, Haw., kona-rau, N. Zeal., toe-rau, Tah., on the side of the great ocean, the weather side of an island or group; toa-lau, Sam., the north-east trade wind. In Fiji, lau is the name of the windward islands generally. In the Malay and pre-Malay dialects that word in that sense still remains under various forms: laut, lauti, lautan, lauhaha, olat, wolat, medi-laut, all signifying the sea, on the same principle of derivation as the Latin æquor, flat, level, expanse, the sea ...

... In the description of the Babylonian zodiac given in the clay tablets known as the MUL.APIN, the constellation now known as Aries was the final station along the ecliptic. It was known as MULLÚ.UN.GÁ, 'The Agrarian Worker'. The MUL.APIN is held to have been compiled in the 12th or 11th century BCE, but it reflects a tradition which takes the Pleiades as marking vernal equinox, which was the case with some precision at the beginning of the Middle Bronze Age (early 3rd millennium BCE) ...

... One of the youths said to Ira, 'Why do we want heaps of stone?' Ira replied, 'So that we can all ask the stones to do something.' They took (the material) for the stone heaps (pipi horeko) and piled up six heaps of stone at the outer edge of the cave. Then they all said to the stone heaps, 'Whenever he calls, whenever he calls for us, let your voices rush (to him) instead of the six (of us) (i.e., the six stone heaps are supposed to be substitutes for the youths). They all drew back to profit (from the deception) (? ki honui) and listened. A short while later, Kuukuu called. As soon as he had asked, 'Where are you?' the voices of the stone heaps replied, 'Here we are!' All (the youths) said, 'Hey, you! That was well done!' ...

... another Alcyone, daughter of Pleione, 'Queen of Sailing', by the oak-hero Atlas, was the mystical leader of the seven Pleiads. The heliacal rising of the Pleiads in May marked the beginning of the navigational year; their setting marked its end when (as Pliny notices in a passage about the halcyon) a remarkably cold North wind blows ...

... Pliny, who carefully describes the halcyon's alleged nest - apparently the zoöphyte called halcyoneum by Linnaeus - reports that the halcyon is rarely seen and then only at the winter and summer solstices and at the setting of the Pleiades. This proves her to have originally been a manifestation of the Moon-goddess who was worshipped at the two solstices as the Goddess of alternatively Life-in-Death and Death-in-Life - and who early in November, when the Pleiades set, sent the sacred king his summons to death ...

... The Mahabharata insists on six as the number of the Pleiades [at the time of rongorongo the triplet Alcyone, Pleione, and Atlas were rising with the Sun in right ascension day *56 and 6 * 56 = 336 = 365 - 29] as well as of the mothers of Skanda and gives a very broad and wild description of the birth and the installation of Kartikeya 'by the assembled gods ... as their generalissimo', which is shattering, somehow, driving home how little one understands as yet. The least which can be said, assuredly: Mars was 'installed' during a more or less close conjunction of all planets; in Mbh. 9.45 (p. 133) it is stressed that the powerful gods assembled 'all poured water upon Skanda, even as the gods had poured water on the head of Varuna, the lord of waters, for investing him with dominion'. And this 'investiture' took place at the beginning of the Krita Yuga, the Golden Age ...

400 - 214 = 186, although there were evidently 4 special days not to be counted, because 214 + 182 = 396:

Counting the tresses of Pachamama (the World Mother) from right to left:

1

26

78

1

29

90

2

26

2

30

3

26

3

31

4

25

104

4

34

124

5

26

5

31

6

27

6

30

7

26

7

29

Total = 396 = 182 + 214