(1) Introduction

The Tetea attribute emotions to the heart

intelligence to the brain  existence of the mind and soul

is under dispute  For us  love is stored

in the Va between your heart and lungs

the agaga is wombed in your moa

In Olfact near the atua-less Equator

the Olfactor with the keenest nose is kingpin:

‘Best smeller is best leader’  ‘Trust only what you

can smell’  ‘Follow your nostrils’  are only

a few of their ruling proverbs

(Smell-less is their word for dead)

Sensitivity of olfaction is measure of ability

and even art  so in their terms  we’re

primitives not far removed

from the odourless beast

Although their language is Polynesian like ours

theirs is an inexhaustible vocabulary

for smell:  all nuances  subtleties  shades

moods  seasons  species  ranks and attitudes

Over 100 words for BO alone

They use piss-smell to diagnose illness  pregnancy

state and identity of pisser  age  gender  diet

and life expectancy:  a medical science

developed to the nth degree  (They smelled

mine and diagnosed duodenal ulcers that bled)

I observed their famous detective Manogimoenofo

trace haughty murderer who’d pissed on

his victim after strangling him:  one sniff

of the killer’s piss  then out into the breeze through

the palmtrees to the surprised murderer’s hut

At his trial the accused denied it but when

the elders sniffed his piss and the piss on the victim

he was exiled to Manogitevolo where no Olfact can survive

the evil stink of sulphur programmed into their

psyche at birth as undeniable death

(2) Education

‘Smell your way to wisdom’ is the basis of

their philosophy  For instance their education

from birth is the training of the nose

and taste buds to think  see  create

the world in all its varied fragrances

A pregnancy is followed by midwives through

smell of urine and vulva  to tell baby’s gender

possible flaws and strengths  (If there’s no

odour the baby is aborted)  As soon as

the baby is out of the womb the midwife

pinches its nose and declares it

orator or priest or tufuga or fisherman

or whatever talent the nose shape augurs

The aiga’s elder then breathes into its nostrils

unblocking it of aitu who might have hitched

Each elder and parent then sniffs the baby’s armpits

feet  arse and mouth and agree on a name

All Olfactors are named after smells and aromas

A common girl’s name is Manogiti (Ti-plant-smell)

A boy’s name is Manusami (Sea-smell)

Some pretentious parents coin fancy names:

Manogimaifititongamalelagituaiva (Scent-from-

Fiji-Tonga-and-the-Ninth-Heaven)  Manulosamaihawaii

(Scent-of-Rose-from-Hawaii)  Manogitagaloaalagi

(Scent-of-Tagaloaalagi) –this is sacrilege!

To Olfactors  a tagata’s essence is smell and scent

so the child is introduced first not to words

but to sniffs and scents of parents  relatives  home

pets  family property  encouraged to improve

nose power to identify family and their essences

To them the soul/agaga is the fusion of

smells that makes you unique  and when

that departs from the body you’re dead

Intelligence/atamai is that which allows

you to learn the wisdom of scent essences

Atamai is presumed innate  unequally spread

and is measured by what they call SQ

(Scent Quotient) Tests  Your SQ score is used

to guide society’s choice of career  rank

class you can best fit into

Nevertheless an objective observer should record facts

so I have to agree with the dissenters’ view

that  though the Smellocracy’s noses were

extralarge  many Olfactors with modest ones

could outsmell them at every turn

(3) Selecting Leaders

The priests allowed me to observe that sacred process

Manogisili  the Boss Priest  declared the time

was near and sent his priests throughout Olfact

to sample the odours of everything  From

their reports he decided the leader’s hour of birth

Priests were stationed in every village

and children born at that hour were brought

to Manogisili who  before Olfact’s Council  pronounced

them Smellocrats to be trained by his staff

in the smell arts  sciences and crafts

For three months  the babies remained unseen

They emerged from the Temple for public scrutiny

with noses (miraculously) cloned after Manogisili’s

flared proboscis  (I suspected surgery

and careful molding of pliant nose  bone and flesh)

Their education continued with the priests

while the other children  at ten  were divided

according to their smell bent and lived in

communal fale under tuition of masters in each craft

(Unlike us they didn’t segregate the sexes and work)

(4) Fishing as Art

Fishing is my favourite art so I observed that

training programme first:  fifty apprentices acquiring

the ingenious skills of Tautai Manogisa and

Tautai Lolototai  their most gifted navigator

and fisherman (and better than our mediocre lot)

Our art’s purpose  they said  is blunt:  to harvest

our Sea Atua’s beneficence  bring needed goods

from other lands  survive and explore our

vast Moana’s stretch ruled by atua

who sometimes want you smell-less  so

our programme is aimed solely at

succeeding the Final Test or our pupils drown –

lost at sea to drift to cannibal lands

And the test?  I asked  Wait and see

they said  Even our pupils aren’t told until the end

So imagine a 10-year-old  much loved by

family  arriving to learn/survive the Way

of Manumoana  the Sea Atua  as taught by

severe Masters who expected him to be adult

right from his first step into the scene

To Olfactors  each virtue  vice  quality

has a unique mix of scents partly innate but

can be nurtured or erased through careful

conditioning in a chosen Way  so before

the Masters see their apprentices with their eyes

For six months Manumoana’s Masters gave

all their training at night or with

the fale blinds drawn to minimise use

of ear and eye  (Sometimes ears were

plugged with husk and eyes were bandaged shut)

First you had to identify well known smells

then their ingredients and  deeper still

their chemical components and quantities of mix

Less familiar odours were then introduced

and drilled into nostrils’ memory banks

New smells came next:  in this the weakest

pupils had to learn repeatedly with degrees

of harsh words and the Masters’ whipping sticks

Repeat  repeat  repeat until the knowledge

was woven  like veins  into olfactions

Their study next shifted to the sea –

the element they had to survive on and in:

at first Masters and pupils sat on

the night beach identifying scent of

every tideshift  windmood and swing

Using forefingers dipped into the sea’s

netherend  taste  smell and name the content

of the water underneath  Canoe mounted

they then paddled round the lagoon  tasting

smelling and recording each location’s mix

That stage’s test was for each pupil to navigate

the Masters to a chosen point

and back  to locate certain schools of fish

predict tides and weather and survive

five weeks without food except what they caught

Again you had to score one hundred percent then

the Masters taught each star in heaven’s night map

lying on your patient back  nose and eyes

all night memorising every shift and star mix

Listen  smell  remember  recall  repeat

Then to that map they added names and smells of

reefs  islands  lands you could find

following your educated smellsense and memory

to known Moana’s ends and the tips

of the atua’s familiar scents

I’d come to love the pupils (though they considered

me senile – No smellpower Vela  they joked)

and I told the Masters I was singing

my songs at their graduation feast

What feast?  they asked  There’s yet the Final Test

In all Olfact the Masters had suffered and survived

the longest sea drifts  had discovered new lands

to expand variety of fragrances and the stepping

stones for Manumoana’s children to walk

across the sea’s downsucking depths

I suspected also they disdained loving because it

didn’t measure up to the euphoric scents of danger

and the excrutiating fear of death in Manu-

moana’s demanding breath:  Danger’s smells

are a fantastic trip!  Manogisa once exclaimed

(5) Other Arts

I’ll leave description of the Final Test to

my tale’s end  and describe other Olfactor

practices and arts we can learn much from

As songmaker/poet I was interested in their

unusual (to say the least) music and poetry

Their musicians/poets were selected by the priests

out of those born into the Smellocracy

Selection was based on results of Ability Tests

developed centuries before by their Master

Songmaker  Manogipesemalie the First

after whom every Master Songmaker is called

and numbered successively  Manogipesemalie

the 40th was in charge when I was in Olfact

250 years old  they said  but looked a vigorous 50

and still smelling-into-being a river of songs

Out of that annual selection of Smellocrats

I observed a girl and two boys undergoing

Master Manogipesemalie’s elaborate training

which  as for the fishers  concentrated first

on developing dexterity of the smellsense

That language was usually nostril made

using inhaling and exhaling techniques too

complicated for me  and mouth  throat

chest  belly  head and netherend as

extension or accompanying instruments

No other instruments were used  and lyrics

were secondary to the smellsounds which

out of an accomplished smellsinger were at

least five parts ranging from deepest bass

to sopranos outside my smellhearing range

Olfact music was also accompanied by

all the smells smellcomposed into the song

You may think that a fantastic trip  but

when you know the Olfact order of smellpreferences

you’d probably gag and flee

Apart from sulphur stench  the depths of

evil to them  the other stenches to us

they deem exquisite heights of goodness

and fertility  so in one of their typical

love songs the beloved is described/smelled:

‘My love is like the malodorous scents

of red meat melting in the breeze’

Another:  ‘Smell me  darling  wrap your

fertile BO around me’  Yet another:

‘Darling  we are one in your delicious fish stench’

1 Beloved  I love your skin fragrances

2 The rancid fertility of your softhaired armpits

3 is heady drug for my hungry breath

4 Beloved  I’m high  so high  on the aromas

5 of your seaweed nest and tunnelled stream

1 Sniff-SNIFFF  lowgulletsigh  exhalelongandburp

2 Dizzylovesickinhaling-sopranosoftlongdrawnoutfart

3 Spirallinginsuckingbreath-staccatobellygasps-onearseblast

4 Sniff-SNIFFF-trillingbreathcrescendoingtosopranoinsuckingbreath

5 Lowpanting  one-two-three  then  loudwhoopingfartdribbling

Of his pupils  the Master chose a girl to be

his heir  The all-male Council of Masters

argued against it  so the shrewd Master

set up a public competition for all

musicians who aspired to his post

In every category of musicianship she wiped

the floor with everyone  and then

in the open category of improvisation

and original song  she revolutionised

Olfact music by demonstrating

new possibilities in the aromatic and vocal

versatility of what only women possess

(True genius is to take one’s art

into realms undreamt of before)  She be-

came Manogipesemalie the 41st

they also feel each others testicles and sniff

their greeting hands in long drawn-out

breaths  (Women  however  never do that)

When I sought explanation for this

they said  It’s how it’s always been

But being  as you know  an insatiably

curious student of humanity’s quirks

I observed  pondered and observed

concluding that testicles  being our vital

procreating source should be greeted first

and  as our most distinct scentprint  needs

to be made known and trusted by guests

first  It was also related to Olfactor courtship

and sexual love which was an elaborate

dance of exploring the loved one’s

aromatic print from hairtip to toenail

and erogenous sole of foot and  if com-

patibility was found  merging your essences

as one temporarily or ‘until smell-less

do us part’  as it were

Your partner(s)  could be of any sex –

the crucial tie was aromatic compatibility

You could also love/marry more than one

To end a union all you had to say

was  Our odours no longer agree

(6) Love and Courtship

Like us  Olfactors aren’t supposed to court

openly  lovesmelling is a private activity –

only animals lovesmell publicly  But again

like us  the love dance  if you know its

music and steps  is ever going on around you

In our society  as in many others on

our puritanical ship  it is taboo to discuss

sex openly or in mixed company or within

the hearing of supposedly innocent kids

Every storyteller has to navigate

the delicate line between ‘the clean’

and what is branded corrupting pornography

Not that I’ve ever been scared of our ruling

hypocrites and censorship but too clean

a telling can strangle a tale  and

too selfindulgent ‘the dirt’ can choke it too

So in recalling my initiation into Olfact’s

lovesmelling art  I’ll try to balance the two

and not betray the honesty of my art or

lose the attention of puritans and lovers of porn

I didn’t see/smell it happening at first

but Manogilaumaile later detailed how

she’d accidentally sniffed my essences

and her scentbuds had throbbed and sung

She suppressed it though for weeks

A humble weaver  she’d seen three husbands depart

for younger essences  leaving her five kids

old parents and other relatives to support

One of the ‘silent majority’ whose uncomplaining

slog kept Olfact smellaffluent and strong

she said she’d tried repeatedly to attract

my nose’s attention  but couldn’t because my

smellpower was ‘innocent and weak’ and

being a proper Olfact woman  she wasn’t

going to smellpressure me in public

So  after weeks of agony  she’d decided

to follow her nostrils’ natural instincts

secretly  at night  into my unresisting bed

What a night it was!  I now recall

(And what love that followed)

One by one my pores were sniffed awake

to the inhaling fire and breath of

the intruder’s skin around but not

touching me  and sighing nose

savouring my head hair scents

No!  the whisper stopped my embracing it

so I held aquivering still while

the youth  so I believed  lovesmelled all

of me methodically from head to toes

and back without touching my singing stick

I couldn’t sleep after that:  my body was a taut

drum skin being played endlessly by memories

of my unknown lover’s inhaling  sighing

cooing heat  Ardour had cooled with age

but now I was again a raunchy greed

For days I tried identifying him

For frustrated nights that ended in shameless

selfrelief  he didn’t come to heal my need

which forced me to court other youths

who laughed me away as ‘primitive meat’

  

To be free of this  I decided to leave Olfact

Word must’ve spread because that night

after I’d packed and was trying to sleep

my saving lover returned and kept returning

anonymously for a night lifetime of my rebirth

until I knew to my quick his every odour

breath  sound  heat but not touch or taste

for he never put flesh upon or in me

I became addicted to lovesmelling techniques

and we blew copiously  nightly

Remember that French artist last year

who strangled his mistress  put her in

his fridge and feasted on her bit by bit

And when questioned said  ‘I loved

her so much I had to kill her’

So not satisfied with owning my lover

anonymously in only his fragrant beauty

of heat and breath  I plotted to snare

his identity in the light  (Reality

I then believed  needed eyes’ proving)

We said little and  after each lovesmelling

rested side by side in the darkness

Sometimes he slept but always left

before first light  One time he almost

overslept and I promised to wake him on time

For days I resisted my desire

to see him but after each denial

the yearning grew ravenously and found

my groping hands trying to shape

his body as he lay beside me

Stop!  he whispered  That doesn’t add

to the quality of our lovesmelling:  we’re

our smellessences – that’s what we must

trust and love for they last forever –

the feel and shape of body is temporary

Not raised on the values of their smellculture

I refused the truth of his statement

My hungry truthestablishing eyes had

to discover him  add beauty of sight

and colour to his other loveliness

I watched through slitted eyelids the birth

of his unexpected female geography

and was surprised not to feel my usual revulsion:

the Olfactor Way of choosing lovers

through fragrances was now mine too

Manogilaumaile woke  thought I was asleep

and fled into the startled morning  All day

I savoured her geography  but that night

pretended I didn’t know it  However

I started introducing her to our Way of Loving:

a finger touch here  there  everywhere

The following nights  a lingering caress and fondle

then lick of hot tongue on lips  nipples

navel  belly and you can imagine the limits

(Novelty is the spice of sex  they tell me)

As she learned (and she was a gifted pupil) she returned

the pleasure which I then heightened by

teaching her our erotic word vocabulary

whispering syllables/vowels  groans/moans

phrases/sentences  down her whirling earholes

When she was ready  I finally taught her

the shape  feel and hardness of penis

the hot flow of mouth and the taste

and promise of our style of sex

As lovers we combined lovesmelling and fucking

(7) Justice

I must now discuss justice in Olfact

because that’s where my love for

Manogilaumaile led eventually

As in other societies  Olfact justice is

based on scales of punishment and reform

from capital punishment to banishment

exile  fines and community work

Their re-education programmes try to save

those who confess deviant quirks and

genuinely want to reconform to society’s norms

Their capital punishment is not to exact

the murderer’s life but to erase totally

his olfactory sense and  if he persists

in his evil deeds  he’s exiled to

Motulemanogi  Island-without-smell  to survive alone

Capital punishment can also take the form

of exile to Manutevolo where he’d choke

to death on sulphur stench (which  as

I’ve said  is programmed into every Olfactor

at birth  as fatal reward for evil performed)

Who  incidentally  is chosen by the Smellocracy

out of its ranks  (in similar fashion to

the College of Cardinals choosing the Pope) and

Who rules until death or senility of

olfactory sense or severe smellsense malfunctioning

Manogitupusili is also Supreme Priest

Supreme Master and most feared of all

Fofosili’oagasala  Supreme Healer of Crimes/Sins

He needed no formal network of police or spies

because Olfactors are raised to report all crimes/sins

and become ill (sometimes fatally) from guilt

if they don’t  Individual crime is treated

by the Council as action of a family so

the family Head appears instead of the culprit

and  if guilt is proven  it’s on that family

who then implements the punishment on kin

I saw parents destroy olfactory senses of loved ones

exile others to Manutevolo to die  and

eye for an eye  cut off guilty limbs

or recite endless prayers of repentance

Sentences of re-education are administered by

the Supreme Healer of Sins and his expert cadre

of Olfactorologists  Olfactoriasists  Olfac-

torpractors and other specialists in

the intricate workings of the olfactory and society

From observing their work reforming sinners

I was scared enough not to want to

study how they were trained by their Master

However  they were certainly clinically and

thoroughly expert in their different specialities

deriving immense satisfaction out of what

one described as ‘saving the wayward

the spiritually lost and ideologically incorrect

for our great Atua  ManogiPaiaoPaia  Smell-

of-Holiness-of-Holies  Who into the odourless Void

breathed all essences of Smell-Intelligence which

gave birth to colour  energy  time  matter

and Olfact  Nose of the Universe and Vanimonimo

ManogiPaiaoPaia  Protector of Olfact from

the surrounding Abyss of Smellessness’

My tale is deviating into their Religion

I’d better return to Manogilaumaile

For a while I was willing to let our love

remain a secret – better a nightime Manogilaumaile

than not having her around at all

But  as I’ve said  we want utter possession of

our lovers  and before I knew it  I was

demanding tearfully that we live openly

as a happy couple loyal to Olfact’s morality

Not that there was a law against illicit sex

She resisted and resisted  distracting me

with smellblowing bouts of loving and

promises of persuading her family into

accepting me  a primitive alien  as her

spouse and their loyal servant

she wasn’t coming  but into my waiting

pushed her hypnotic fragrances  then

the shuffle of her footsteps and body

and  into my embrace  shifted the whole

weave of her heat and aromatic essences

The magnificent need to hold her

beyond Smellessness into Tagaloa’s eternity

is as real now in my decrepit old age

as it was then in what I came

to call ‘The Night of Betrayal by Family’

We slept and forgot night has an end

until the blinds were ripped down by

her relatives and our nakedness

was exposed to the morning for all to see

‘Beast!  Beast!’  her father screamed

(8) Sentence

As they bound her with sinnet I jumped

to her defence but they beat me to

unconsciousness to wake a day later

to Master Manogipesemalie  my generous

host  tongueclucking  Now you’re in for it!

What?  I pleaded  She’s to be tried for

a heinous sin  he said  I was nonplussed

so he explained that Manogilaumaile’s family

was defining me a beast and she was

therefore guilty of bestiality

I am Samoan!  I am human!  I protested

at her trial to the Council’s sniggering

and Manogitupusili ordering  Give him

the SQ Tests to see if he is!  I tried

desperately but failed every one  so

he declared me smellectually a beast

with an SQ no better than a mullet’s

Re-education was the sentence for her

For me  the witnessing of her ordeal

and then deportation from their country

(9) Smellwashing

The Supreme Healer of Sins assigned her treatment

to his Senior Olfactorologist  Manogi-

lotoalofa  Smell-of-Loving-Spirit  famous

for his love of children and developing

the science of Smellwashing to save sinners

The Senior Olfactorologist’s home was a lava cave

in the cliffs at Manui’a Point:  spacious

well-lit  well-ventilated  laid with valuable

Tongan mats  no signs of threat – in fact

more comfortable than most Olfact homes

Three women  his wives I assumed  fussed

silently over us when we were introduced

and sat me against the central post  while

Manogilaumaile took the opposite post

No sound of the sea penetrated there

She refused to look at me  Hands clasped

in her lap  shoulders slumped  eyes

gazing at the mats  she was repentance

and vulnerability – the patient pleading

to be cured of whatever illness diagnosed

by the healer using whatever method he chose:

Like millions our planet over  a willing victim

of a system which had determined that

she obey even if it demanded her death

I was too naive then to see that

and too scared to insist on heroic escape

or fight the forces threatening

our love  (heroics are for the insanely

brave and the young who don’t yet

know the pain of risk that fails)

The Olfactorologist eased like trusting

scent into the gap between us  Greeted

us gently  inquired about our health  whether

we needed anything  Lean  lightboned

slowmoving  like the matu’u  gentlest of seabirds

Nothing to fear  he said to her  Smellwashing

merely washes out your illness  (he’d

never refer to it as ‘sin’)  and replaces

it with the scent-truths of our Olfact Way

It’s a purification of nostrils polluted by …

Averting his searching eyes  Manogilaumaile nodded

and nodded to his persuasive song  and

with every nod slipped further away

from me — after all I was only dumb

beast compared to this wisest of Smellocrats

That’s all for today  he ended to my surprise

My assistants will feed you then you’re free

to go anywhere tonight  Thank you

sir  Manogilaumaile said  He smiled

at me and emphasised we were free

Let’s go away  I begged after he’d left

She cringed away  He’ll smell us out!  she cried

He’s everywhere  don’t you know that?

He’s taking you away from me  I said

but she refused to budge from his home

Late that night we crept into each other’s

arms and  in the Olfact Way  lovesmelled

strength into our hearts and promised

the Olfactorologist wouldn’t succeed in

erasing our lovesmell bonds

For a week he just talked to her —

a song which relaxed and won her trust

I too slipped into trusting him  (I now

know that’s what prisoners do — they want

to trust their interrogators)

At night  in embrace  we persuaded ourselves

the Olfactorologist’s work was for our good

And it wasn’t until she withdrew into

inexplicable laughter and brightly burning

eyes  she confessed the air was sweetly drugged

Next morning I confronted him with that

but he dismissed it by asking her if

anything was wrong  The air is beautiful

give me more of it  she murmured in

her euphoric high and craving

He instructed her to dance and as

she floated around the floor  she obeyed

the dance steps he asked of her

She danced and danced to his song

until exhausted she collapsed and slept

Go away!  she pushed at me when later

I woke her so I watched over her till

the Olfactorologist’s morning return  and when

I tried choking admission of drugs out of

him his three amazons bound me to my post

My friend  I’m going to explain smellwashing

to you — who knows  your tiny smell-

intelligence may retain some of it that

may benefit your people on your

return to them  he said gently

He wanted me to observe his every move  so

he told his assistants to bandage my nose

with crushed leaves (a drug?) that

on my inhaling  fired my brain/eyes

to avid observation of his mastery

Into the centre of my head the pungency plunged

and cut out all sense of guilt  fear

shame  and I enjoyed watching myself

watching the skilled spectacle of Manogi-

laumaile being transformed into conforming citizen

I can hear his teaching voice even now

every deadly nuance of it  and action of

his assistants that flowed from it:  First

lie her on her back and into her being

pour all the good scents of her childhood

As she swallowed the fragrances she chortled

with joy  as if being reborn  stretching out

in limb  in confidence  in discovering her

true level of SQ and smellsense  before

the bitter odours of adulthood hemmed her in

At his instructions  she acted out various

smell stages of her growing up  from infant

to nine  to twelve  to being whipped by

her mother  into loud bawling protests

(I marvelled at his cool wizardry)

While in that dive  he placed his mouth over

her nose and blew his breath essences

down in pursuit of her into her genesis

Suddenly she was waves of trembling

and whimpers as he hunted her

Don’t be afraid  he whispered into

her depths  Her choked cry was that

of a fish hooked and wrenched up to

drown in air’s clarity  Once that was all

then her body  now without identity relaxed

into sleep which lasted days/nights of

his assistants feeding her his prescription

of aromas for a new personality

With each scent and mixture  he said

go new memories/associations of a genesis

in the womb  a birth  childhood and

her story up to her waking soon to a person

free of sin  our society will welcome and love

Fascinated  I too watched and awaited

her rebirth  eagerly

Inadvertently  I must’ve fallen asleep and

in my sleep  they undrugged my nostrils

untied me from the post  and I woke

again to fear and concern for her

but there was no one in the room

Her nails were shell knives that ripped

into my face  chest and arms when

she swivelled round and cried  Rape!  Rape!

And her knee crushed upwards into my

balls and the pain blew the light out of my skull

The Olfactorologist must’ve used a drug to

fish me out of the dark and  for a long while

I didn’t recognise the Council applauding

around me like celebrating birds or

why Manogilaumaile wore a laurel of laumaile leaves 

(10) Saved

Our daughter’s been saved from sin!  Manogi-

tupusili proclaimed to all She’s a new

person we can all love  I crawled to

her feet and gazed up into her eyes that said

Who’re you?  Why did you attack me  beast?

Next morning they set me adrift beyond

their reef  (My journey home is a tale

for another day)  As I promised  I’ll end

my Olfact story with the Final Test that

graduated their apprentices into navigators/fishermen

(11) Final Test

Full moon night  the Masters summoned us

to their fale and  in the dancing firelight

smellprayed to their atua  Then they divided apprentices

into pairs of complimentary flaws and strengths

leaving Manogipesemalie the 41st with a special Test

Out of the rafters they took large baskets

and  after assigning each pair their Test

showed them items they had to bring back

For instance  Pair One had to find Aotearoa

to the south  and fetch the feathers

of the flightless kiwi bird and ten karakia

Pair Two had to navigate the perils of

the Black Archipelagoes to the north

and  from Malaita  bring prowheads of war canoes

and the incantations that protected them

Another pair had to bring from Hawaii

a stone altar and the rituals of sacrifice

that altar deserved  From Rapanui

the shape of the Moai and its long inward

gaze which outlives their atua

And further east still  from the southern

land of the Sun atua  the skills of counting

and building pyramids to launch death

From the islands of the Yellow Men  the magic

of unpoisoning the balloonfish and the smell

of frozen water that fell whitely from

grey skies without sun  And so on

until only the 41st was left

Of her they demanded the most difficult

task  to discover the continent suspected

to the northwest but as yet not even smelled

by the Masters in their many quests:  She

wasn’t to return until she’d found it

and recorded its scentmap for future voyaging

(She didn’t question her suicidal Test)

And all must return with total smell-

inventories of their assigned lands

Don’t forget ours is an empire of

fragrances and scents  the Masters exalted them

Each new scent extends our knowledge of reality

All Olfact gathered by the sea to launch

their children on their dangerous quest

There was weeping and prayers and pleas

to their atua to bring them home safely

Manogisili promised them immortality

Masters Tautai Manogisa and Lolototai blessed

them last  and withdrew  In their eyes

I saw the glitter of tears?  regret?  loss?

How long will they take?  I asked

For most  a lifetime  whispered Lolototai

I was deported four years later  and

none had returned  Today I still see

them on their frail crafts piercing the horizon’s

muscled dark and tracing ropes of scent

across the mysterious stretches of Moana Sa

questing for meaning to the Final Test

a few will survive and return to ancient

Masters who’ll feed rapaciously on

the fragrances of their heroic deeds to

gather new strength to live on  smell on  be

  ‘Nightflight’ is my first adventure he applauded

My kids judged it boring but he conned them

into accepting it as ‘Your Dad’s Songs of Deng

Tsiaopeng’s Bourgeois Revolution’