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Once upon a time there was a fisherman called Kahurangi. He made his living outside the shore of Waikouaiti. He called himself the Fisher King. As he could not read or write a simple sketch of a crown was his mark.
This was just another Monday. He prepared himself for a long day at sea. He had, among other small things in his pocket, a water-proof canister with some money in it. Actually there was no money left this time. Only a piece of paper with his mark on it.
The sea was calm that early morning, though he spotted some darker clouds further away, he could not anticipate the intensity of the heavy weather that was approacing. By noon there was a full-blown storm. His small fishing canoe stood no chance and was torn to pieces. He grabbed on to what small part was left and drifted away for days, weeks maybe.
He had no idea how long he had been laying there in the water when he felt something tapping his shoulder. A gigantic octopus with long arms appeared from the ocean.
"I can help you. Come with me!", the creature whispered and pointed down into the sea. Kahurangi first hesitated but figured he had nothing to loose, so he dived along deep down to the bottom. "Dig!", the octopus said and quickly swam away.
Kahurangi dug deeper and deeper. It was very dark but he carried on. Suddenly he could see some light. His head soon emerged from the ground and he crawled up.
"Vannifrån kombe ty?", "Vii ha dy gräfta såtee?", some folks passing by said.
"What a nice place and friendly people", he said to himself. He stayed and became a very important person in the history of the village.
And that is how the place on the other side of the world got it's name. This is of cause a true story. Very true.
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