The salted vapor runs in my blood. Pangayaw (Sea raids) resonate in my memory. I am of the sea.
But this… thing is beyond me.
Of course tales were told, but to a time lost to memory.
Not here, not now.
The raid today went without incident, we pillaged a nearby Chinese settlement, sharing the bounty between us in the karakoa (ship).
The pillaged chased us with their own ships as we disengaged.
We prepared for battle.
But there was none to be found.
The serpent knifed through the calm sea and with its jaws agape, swallowed the boat whole, seafarers included.
Fear consumed me and I shouted at the navigator to make haste.
The creature disappeared from sight, I assumed it was full from its grisly meal.
We docked our boats and I had never been so happy to see land.
That night we summoned a council. The datu and the spirit talker as well as elders from our community were all in attendance.
The chanter knew what it was.
In our legends it was called the Mameleu.
The great sea serpent.
This new danger sent a shock to the collected.
“Do we suspend our raids?”
“Was it a one time occurance, will it show up again?”
There were those that downplayed the situation.
“The serpent will not harm us.”
“We will be ready for the next time.”
But silent fear gripped the council.
The next day was another raid in a settlement about two hours away.
The situation the night prior still resonated in the hearts of the mangayaw (sea raiders).
Everyone was on edge as we approached our quarry.
I gasped as I saw it.
Ships were beached, broken and damaged. Blood painted their hulls.
The current seemed different and the ship changed course. We did not want to be its next meal.
As if reading my mind the serpent breached the waves. I do not know if it was intelligent but we locked eyes and I swear there was something behind those glistening orbs.
We had no choice but to engage it in battle.
We had two ships and we circled around the great beast.
I timed my strike to when it would jump over our ship.
Its head was as big as a carabao.
My attack was feeble. Its scales were as large as plates and I could not penetrate them.
I saw that its underbelly did not have those scales and I shouted to my fellow mangayaw to attack.
They dove into the water and swam with their blades.
The serpent readied another blow to the other ship and as much as they tried to strike at its vulnerability, they did not succeed.
The ship snapped in two.
If this is where I die, Kaptan willing, I will go fighting in the sea.
I closed my eyes and waited for the beast to consume me.
I waited for a small eternity. The shouts of my raiders alerted me to the new situation.
There was another.
It seemed that the first Mameleu was territorial.
The second serpent bit its neck.
The sounds of the two behemoths rang through the midday sun.
I only thought of survival.
It was alright for me to perish on my own, but I was with my crew.
And if there was a chance for them to survive I would take it.
The two serpents were still locked in combat, black ichor spilling forth.
The karakoa turned away and soon picked up speed.
We lost a lot of good men that day, brothers, fathers, friends.
As we approached our kadatuan I wept. So much unnecessary blood was spilled.
That night another council was held.
No one knew what to do. The raids were how we sustained our culture.
The spirit talker convened with her abyan (spirit guide)and said that there was a weapon.
A weapon that would be our salvation.
It was a blade blessed by the kataw to fight the beasts of the sea. It was stolen by a raider thought to have been captured by the queendom of the waves.
The abyan journeyed to the skyworld’s horizon to ask where it could be found.
The spirit talker walked towards me and put her hand on my forehead.
“It is you,” she said.
I can’t explain what happened, only that my soul was separated from my body.
It was night and I waded through the stars.
The familiar constellations that I used to navigate in the night were cold comfort.
The abyan was a creature filled with eyes, but it felt like none of them looked directly at me.
Our souls were taken to an island relatively near to the kadatuhan.
I didn’t know what I expected. Maybe it resting on a pedestal as deserved by such a weapon, but it was buried, shallow, on the beach.
The blade had a story to tell, but I will leave it in the past.
My people, my crew, needed me.
The shock of returning to my body paralyzed me for a moment. The abyan disappeared into the aether.
It was decided by the council that I would go and claim the great weapon.
The next day the winds were fortuitous, but the water was red. The bodies of dolphins and whale sharks were floating half-eaten by the Mameleu.
I was wary of the giant but I should have been watching the shallow waters.
I heard a sounds underneath my both and as I investigated my interest was piqued.
A kataw.
This wasn’t the first creature of the queendom of the deep that I had met. There was something odd about this one. It looked to be wounded with a gash at its side.
It spoke with a raspy voice.
“You seek the blade as well, human?”
I nodded.
“You need not bother,” it said “The beasts will leave soon enough.”
I asked it what it meant.
“Every century the Memeleu’s kind go to the surface to breed. After a few moons they will return to the depths.”
The kataw seemed sincere, but I was ready for duplicity.
My instincts were rewarded, as soon as I leaned forwards to the kataw it grabbed me and tried to drag me into the depths.
I am as much a creature of water as the kataw.
Deftly taking out my kris (blade) I stabbed it through its heart.
I kicked the kataw’s body to the waves.
Approaching the beach I thanked Kaptan that no others of the deep accosted me.
There were know grand battles, no guardians to fight.
The blade lay there, not even fully buried in the sand.
I am the champion of my people.
Let the seas tremble at my power.
Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Inspired by the Mameleu entry in Creatures of Philippine Lower Mythology. Ramos. 1971
Illustration by Gladys Domalaon used with permission from Rob Martin of Pine Box Entertainment and Secret Garden Games
