The Chief Mourner (artist: Tupaia; British Library Add MS 15508)
Tupaia, a gifted linguist, a brilliant orator, and a most devious politician, could aptly be called the Machiavelli of Tahiti. Born in Ra'iatea, the most sacred island in the Pacific, and the cradle of Polynesian civilization, about 1760 he had been forced to flee to Tahiti after a disastrous war with neighboring Borabora. Within a handful of years he had risen from the humble status of a refugee to become one of the most powerful men in the land. The political advisor of Amo, one of the highest chiefs, he was also the lover and advisor of Amo's wife, Purea, a high chief in her own right. Tupaia completed the conversion of the whole island to the worship of Oro, the god of war, and designed and supervised the construction of Mahaiatea, which was one of the most massive marae (temple-compounds) in Polynesia. Then, when European ships arrived, Purea, whom he advised, became Tahiti's most important diplomat.
An extremely intelligent man, Tupaia was intrigued with European science, technology, and military might. On 18 April 1769, after the Endeavour dropped anchor in Matavai Bay, Tupaia agreed to join the ship's list of supernumeraries, and was signed onto the muster roll by Captain Cook. Over the intervening weeks he struggled with the decision of whether to join the scientific contingent for the ongoing voyage. The answer was yes. In July, when the ship sailed, he sailed with them.
Captain Cook was extraordinarily lucky. Not only was Tupaia highly skilled in astronomy, navigation, and meteorology, but he was an expert in the geography of the Pacific, able to name directional stars and predict landfalls and weather. At any stage in the convoluted course of the voyage, including in the East Indies, he was able without hesitation to point unerringly to the position of distant Tahiti. He even drew a chart of the Pacific, which encompassed every major group in Polynesia and extended more than 2,500 miles from the Marquesas to Rotuma and Fiji. In normal times such privileged knowledge of currents, weather patterns, geography, and astronomy would never have been revealed to anyone outside Tupaia's select group. But, as an exile . . . and a man who had boarded the British ship to evade capture and sacrifice by his enemies . . . the navigator-priest was willing to share this secret lore.
Tupaia was also the ship's translator, able to communicate with all the Polynesian people they met, including New Zealand Maori. As a noble member of the arioi sect, which was going through its greatest flowering at the time, and was famous for its gifted orators, artists, actors, dancers, and lovers, Tupaia commanded awe and respect wherever he went.
Unhappily, Tupaia died before the ship arrived home, and since then has been almost forgotten, his name familiar only to a handful of Pacific historians, geographers, and anthropologists. And so, to set the record straight, I am currently researching and writing the story of this remarkable man, who was aptly called "an extraordinary genius."
