Late one afternoon a young boy was swimming with his friends. He had gone too far out into the sea and the water was rough with rising winds. The older boys tried to warn him, but he only laughed. Then suddenly he disappeared beneath the pounding surf. When he came up he was not longer laughing and appeared to be caught in something. As they light began to fade the other boys started to loose sight of him. The boys ran off to tell his father. “He’s drowning” they shouted and all ran back to take the father to the spot. By then it was dark and the waters had gone eerily still and there was no sign of the boy. devastated the father plunged into the water. Deeper and deeper he swam as he searched.
At the very bottom he saw a shadowy form resting among the seagress amd mounds of shells. He drifted closer and saw what appeared to be a strange house covered with mysterious carvings and no windows. It was a long low dwelling that could have held several families. The father circled around the house and finally found the door, attached to the door was the body of his drowned child. Shaken by the sight he went inside the house. It was empty but for a very old and frail woman who sat just within the doorway. “Show me the people who stole my son!” he demanded.
The old woman decided to help him. She said “This is the home of the Ponaturi. Do as I tell you if you want to avenge your son’s death. First cover all the cracks in the house and hide yourself well.”
So he did as he was told. When near dawn the Ponaturi returned, he began to leave his hiding place to go after them, but the woman held her hand out. “Wait” she whispered “The Ponaturi do not know the cracks of thier house are covered and when the new day is at its brightest they will be tricked into thinking it is night. The light of the sun will kill them.”
Soon the Panaturi would be fast asleep and after a few hours the father made a loud noise. The chief was the first to awaken and he asked if it was still day. The old woman replied “No, you have slept long and it is nearly night” The chief said “I will sleep a few more hours because I am still tired.”
When the sun was high in the sky, the old woman awakened the Ponaturis in the darkened house. The chief asked “What time is it now?” And the old woman answered “It is time for you to go to work” When all the terrible fairies had gathered to leave the father of the boy crept out of his hiding place and opened the door very wide. The Ponaturi burst through the doorway and shot upward to the surface of the water. Powerful rays of sunlight flooded the house and instantly they all died, swallowed by the light of the new day.
The father said good bye to the old woman. He tore the terrible door to the house off its hinge and took it with him. When he returned to the shore the villagers looked at the door in wonder. It held a wooden carving so like his drawned child that it moved them to tears.
It is said from this tragic drowning and the fathers brave descent to the dwelling place of the dreadful faeries the art of carving was transmitted to the Maori people.