28. Whale Dreaming & Ocean Songlines

“It’s like Pele, the volcanic goddess. That lava that sits underneath the surface, waiting quietly to be seen or to be heard. And then, as soon as she lets it fly, it’s like this explosion of magnificence—and it births new worlds, and creates new lands, and gives new life.”

- WHAIA

SYNOPSIS:

In this episode, we journey into the vibrational worlds of sound, ancestry, and deep listening with Whaia, a Ngāti Kahungunu woman of Māori descent and First Nations sonic weaver and multi-instrumentalist.

Raised between the salt of the Pacific and the red dust of the Australian desert, Whaia’s voice carries ancient songlines, blending traditional Māori instruments, crystalline singing bowls, and her original mother tongue, the language of Te Rā, the Sun. We explore her work singing with whales, reclaiming cultural instruments once left silent in museums, and remembering the sacred oceanic highways navigated by her Polynesian ancestors, guided by the stars and whale ancestors. 

This is a conversation about song as medicine, the voice as ceremony, and reclaiming lineage through sound. We ask: what might the whales be singing to us now? What frequencies are we called to remember in order to heal ourselves and our waters?

Stay on after the episode wraps to hear a special feature from Whaia’s debut album WHAIA & WATER — the first of a twelve-part series known as her Sacred Sonic Sessions.

LISTEN:

LISTEN ON SPOTIFY

LISTEN ON APPLE PODCASTS

WATCH ON YOUTUBE

Audio Block

Double-click here to upload or link to a .mp3. Learn more

GUEST BIO:

Whaia Sonic Weaver is a transcendent vocalist, alchemical performer, and First Nations multi-instrumentalist of Ngāti Kahungunu, Māori descent. Raised from the age of six on Yindjibarndi country in the Pilbara desert of northwestern Australia, the arid, red earth and the presence of her Aboriginal grandmother shaped her early path — grounding her in the deep listening and elemental kinship that now defines her work. She is a singer, designer, cultural producer, and facilitator, whose haunting vocals are drawn from her original mother tongue — the language of Te Rā, the Sun. Walking with Taonga Pūoro (traditional Māori instruments) and crystal singing bowls, Whaia blends vocals with melodies made of wood, bone, clay and stone, weaving the voices of mother nature.

In 2011, she carved out a four-year Australian tour with the band WHALEDREAMERS, featuring Mirning elder and Senior Lore Man Bunna Lawrie, singing the ancient Aboriginal whale songlines at festivals across the continent. As an artist, activist, and elemental voice for the waters, Whaia is also an ambassador for the ocean. She serves on the board of Oceanic Global, the Kia’i Moana Foundation in Hawai’i, and is a member of the Wisdom Keeper Delegation, a global collective walking ancestral wisdom into policy spaces, including within the United Nations.

(Photo of Whaia: Chanel Baran Photo)

QUOTES:

• Our canoe followed the whale migration to land in beautiful sanctuaries all throughout Polynesia. They really are our guides in the Moana, what we call the Pacific Ocean.

• We would sing our way through the days and the nights, taking stories from one place, taking our journey on the way, and creating these new songs: What do we see along the way? Where do we stop for water? Where do we stop for the good coconuts? Who do we come across? Who was in the Waka?

• (If the ocean and whales spoke to us right now, they would say:) It’s really noisy. You guys are really loud. I can’t find my children. I can’t find my way to my home. I’m so dizzy and disoriented by shipping, boating, EMF noise, satellites, underwater seismic blasting…

• We’ve birthed these instruments, and actually, they used to be in museums a long, long time ago. And we started to reclaim them back and go and play them to people—and people couldn’t remember what they were or where they came from.

• We’re whale people. We have language coming from the stars and from the beautiful sun, a star in this galaxy.

• If you can talk, you can sing, right? And even if you can’t speak, you could still sing with your body. But most of us can make sound.

• I think the fear is that what you feel inside, that ball of energy… we’re afraid that it’s so powerful. We’re afraid to let it out, because we don’t know what it’s going to do.

• It’s like Pele, you know? She’s just laying dormant. I’m talking about the volcanic goddess. That lava that sits underneath the surface, just waiting quietly to be seen or to be heard. And then, as soon as she lets it fly, it’s like this explosion of magnificence—and it births new worlds, and creates new lands, and gives new life.

• What does it actually feel like to run this sound through the caverns of my vessel? It can take over an entire body at first.

• Our mothers gave us our first sound, I believe, when she was howling down those hallways— your ancient song. That’s your first songline. Your mother making bellowing, guttural sounds when you were arriving and taking your first breath. And maybe that’s a primordial memory that we all have.

• I say, let your spirit, let your voice fly to the winds. Go to the ocean—bellow it out into the abyss. Go to the forest and let it express yourself to those magnificent trees who are listening.

• Your voice isn’t just for you. It’s for everyone. We can all teach ourselves something, and we all have a different tone, a different timbre. And every one is sweet and beautiful, like every flower, like every tree.

LINKS:

• Whaia website

• Instagram

• Whaia Water Album Download

• Wisdom Keepers Delegation

• Oceanic Global

• Australian Songlines

• The Pleiades

• Masaru Emoto: Messages in Water

YOU MAY ALSO LIKE