Images of Old Hawaiʻi

by Peter T Young Leave a Comment

The Islands in 1828

Paul-Emile Botta was born to Carlo Botta, an eminent historian and educator, and Antoinette de Vierville of Chambery, in Turin on December 6, 1802. His mother died when he was still a child. In 1815, he became naturalized as a Frenchman.

In 1826, the French prepared for a round-the-world voyage on Le Heros, On board regulations required that there be a surgeon; Botta, though not yet a full-fledged doctor, was appointed to that post. He was also charged with the duties of naturalist aboard, with the mission of collecting examples.

The Heros, a three-masted ship of 362 tons, with 32 men on board, left the port of Le Havre on April 9, 1826, circumnavigated the globe. The following, in Botta’s words, are his observations of the inhabitants of the Sandwich Islands (Hawaiʻi) when he and Le Heros visited the Islands from September 17, 1828 to November 15, 1828. (The quotation marks are dropped.)

The natives of the Sandwich Islands are for the most part large and well built. Among them are often found men who, in figure and proportion, recall the most beautiful statues of antiquity.

They vary a great deal in color. Sometimes it is a very dark brown, almost black, but at other times, to the contrary, it is a rather light brown, almost yellow. Their faces are pleasing, especially because of the expression of goodness and joviality always displayed on them … their hearts are full of goodness and friendliness.

The men are completely naked except for a type of belt of which one portion passes between their thighs, called by them maro. They have … a custom of knotting about the end of the prepuce a piece of reed, when they are not wearing the maro; this is the last bit of clothing that they are accustomed to take off.

The women … ordinarily wear a cloth skirt and a garment made of a fabric of the islands covering their thighs. Yet I saw some of them indoors having as their sole clothing a belt of leaves. This is the attire of the common people; the chiefs, however, as well as their women, at present dress in European fashion, some indeed with a studied affectation.

The Sandwich islanders, at least the common people, eat chiefly vegetables. Their principal food is taro, root of a type of arum which when raw is very bitter and even poisonous, but when cooked has an excellent flavor, superior to that of the potato.

They eat it either cooked in their underground ovens or pounded into a paste, often half fermented, which they call poi, and which is the basis of their meals.

Potatoes, carrots, and fish, which they eat raw most of the time, or else pounded with water and salt, are, after taro, their commonest foods.

Their customary drink is only water … very few islanders are to be seen giving themselves up to drunkenness. They still, however, make use of the infusion of ava to get intoxicated.

They also prepare a type of brandy with the root of a plant very common in the island, which they call lahi. The root is thick, fibrous, though rather tender and of a very sweet and sugary flavor when cooked. The brandy made of it through fermentation is very strong. This root is called ti.

The islanders’ homes are small houses made with a light scaffolding covered over by dry grasses. They are formed with a roof, the sides rising obliquely almost from the ground. They usually have two doors, set in accordance with the direction of the most frequent winds, providing for coolness inside.

The floor is formed by a layer of dry rushes covered over by a rather large number of mats. The floor usually serves as table and as bed, some chiefs’ homes excepted; the latter are sometimes furnished most elegantly in European style.

These very simple houses are cool and inexpensive and islanders as well as some Europeans prefer them to houses built of stone or wood, as some quite pretty ones transported from America are.

The chief occupation of the islanders is the cultivation of taro, which requires much toil and care. This plant grows well only in marshy terrain, and even in mud; therefore, all the upper valleys and terrain at the foot of the mountains are divided into small plots covered with water and separated by narrow embankments, which are the only paths.

Taro is planted in rows or in regular quincunxes in little ponds, into which the natives are often obliged to dive, either to harvest the roots, or to pull out the reeds and other grasses which might hinder their growth.

The water is brought there by means of little irrigation canals, made with great care, and which divide infinitely, passing from one taro field to another, so that a small stream can irrigate a great number of fields placed in terraces one above another on a hill slope. All this cultivation gives an impressive notion of the industriousness of these people.

Fishing is, next to taro, the principal resource of the Sandwich islanders; they now use European hooks. In order to catch great sea fish such as the bonitos or the dorados, however, they join them to bits of polished mother-of-pearl with bristles at one end, which, in the water, gives the appearance of a small fish, with sufficient exactness for the big fish to be deceived by them.

Their nets are very well made and they have some, I have been told, that are large and are the common property of several villages.

The dug-out canoes used by the islanders have the bottom made from a hollowed out tree, pointed at the two ends; it is raised by two boards joined to the two ends tapering; they are provided with a balance, formed by a piece of wood parallel to the dug-out canoe and sustained by two cross-bars. The paddles have rounded blades. When they desire, they add a mast and a trapezoidal sail to the canoes.

The recreation of the islanders consists only of lascivious dances, and I have always seen them performed by women and never by men. … The tunes have, properly speaking, no melody, for they are made of only one or two notes. To hear them sung, one would believe that they are rather being chanted. I have not seen any musical instrument except a small drum made out of coconut.

But their favorite pleasure is swimming. Men, women, and children all know how to swim and they are all constantly in the water.

Nothing is more interesting than to see them devoting themselves to the exercise they call henalou, that is, mounting the waves. In the places where the coral reef surrounding the island and stretching far out causes the water to have a depth of only between seven and eight feet, the sea rolls its waves in a frightening manner, sometimes for a distance of over a mile, until they come to break at the shore.

In these places the Sandwich islanders place themselves on their stomachs on a board oval in shape, elongated, somewhat convex on each side. They then swim with their hands and feet, passing over or under the waves constantly rolling over the reef, going out to sea where they wait for a wave which they think will inevitably reach the shore.

Then they place themselves in front of it, letting themselves be carried thus with incredible speed, without losing their balance, continually pushed forward by the wave the summit of which, towering above, seems destined to engulf them. This exercise which has always seemed terrifying to me is just a game for them.

The language of the Sandwich islanders is sweet and harmonious, because of the great number of vowels and few consonants found in it. …. The vowels are a, e, i, o, and u. The consonants are f, h, k, 1, m, n, p, r, t, and v. But the number of consonants should be reduced, for the inhabitants use some of them indifferently for others; thus r and l, k and t, p and f, are letters which seem for them to have the same sound.

Such are the observations which a stay of two months on Wahou has permitted me to make. They are most incomplete, and I greatly desire to be one day in a position to make a better study of these people, rendered so likeable by their goodness and sweetness …. (This summary is based on a translation and summary from Knowlton.)

The image shows the town of Honolulu as it looked when Botta arrived in the Islands. (Beechey)

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by Peter T Young Leave a Comment

Martin Luther King at the Hawai‘i Legislature

On Thursday, September 17, 1959, in the Hawaii House of Representatives, 1959 First Special Session, Dr. Martin Luther King addressed the members of the House as Follows:

“Mr. Speaker, distinguished members of the House of Representatives of this great new state in our Union, ladies and gentlemen:

It is certainly a delightful privilege and pleasure for me to have this great opportunity and, I shall say, it is a great honor to come before you today and to have the privilege of saying just a few words to you about some of the pressing problems confronting our nation and our world.

I come to you with a great deal of appreciation and great feeling of appreciation, I should say, for what has been accomplished in this beautiful setting and in this beautiful state of our Union.

As I think of the struggle that we are engaged in in the South land, we look to you for inspiration and as a noble example, where you have already accomplished in the area of racial harmony and racial justice, what we are struggling to accomplish in other sections of the country …

… and you can never know what it means to those of us caught for the moment in the tragic and often dark midnight of man’s inhumanity to man, to come to a place where we see the glowing daybreak of freedom and dignity and racial justice.

People ask me from time to time as I travel across the country and over the world whether there has been any real progress in the area of race relations, and I always answer it by saying that there are three basic attitudes that one can take toward the question of progress in the area of race relations.

One can take the attitude of extreme optimism. The extreme optimist would contend that we have come a long, long way in the area of race relations, and he would point proudly to the strides that have been made in the area of civil rights in the last few decades.

And, from this, he would conclude that the problem is just about solved now and that we can sit down comfortably by the wayside and wait on the coming of the inevitable.

And then there is the extreme, the attitude of extreme pessimism, that we often find. The extreme pessimist would contend that we have made only minor strides in the area of human relations.

He would contend that we have created many more problems than we have solved. He would look around and see the tensions in certain sections of the country; he would listen to the rhythmic beat of the deep rumblings of discontent; he would point to the presence of Federal troops in Little Rock, Arkansas …

… he would point to schools being closed in some states of the Union and from all of this, he would conclude that we have retrogressed instead of progressed.  And then he would go on later and contend that a monster human nature cannot be changed.

Sometimes he will turn to the realm of theology and talk about the tragic taint of original sin hovering over every individual, or he might turn to psychology and talk about the inflexibility of certain habit structures once they have been molded and from all of this …

… he would conclude that there can be no progress in the area of human relations because human beings cannot be changed once they have started on a certain road.

Now, it is interesting to notice that the extreme optimist and the extreme pessimist have at least one thing in common. They both agree that we must sit down and do nothing in the area of race relations. The extreme optimist says do nothing because integration is inevitable.

The extreme pessimist says do nothing because integration is impossible.

But I think there is a third position, a third attitude that can be taken, namely the realistic position. The realistic attitude seeks to reconcile the truths of two opposites while avoiding the extremes of both.

So the realist in the area of race relations would agree with the optimist that we have come a long, long way, but he would balance that by agreeing with the pessimist that we have a long, long way to go.

And so this is my answer to the questions of whether there has been any progress in the area of race relations. I seek to be realistic and say we have a long, long way to go.

Now, it is easy for us to see that we have come a long, long way.

Twenty-five years ago, fifty years ago, a year hardly passed that numerous Negroes were not brutally lynched in our nation by vicious mobs. Lynchings have about ceased today.

We think about the fact that just twenty-five years ago, most of the Southern states had a system known as a poll tax to prevent Negroes from becoming registered voters. The poll tax has been eliminated in all but four states.

We think about the fact that the Negro is voting now more than he has ever voted before. At the turn of the century, there were very few Negro registered voters in the South. By 1948 that number had reached to 750,000, and, today, it stands at about 1,300,000.

And even in the area of economic justice, we have seen a good deal of progress. The average Negro wage earner in the South today and over the nation makes four times more than the average Negro wage earner of ten years ago and the national income of the Negro is now $17 billion a year.

That is more than all of the exports of the United States and more than the national income of Canada. So, we’ve come a long, long way.

Then we’ve come a long, long way in seeing the walls of segregation gradually crumble.

When the Supreme Court rendered its decision in 1954, seventeen states and the District of Columbia practiced segregation in the public schools …

…but, today, most of these states have complied with the decision and just five states are left that have not made any move in the area of compliance and two of these states are now under orders to integrate – Atlanta, Georgia and New Orleans, Louisiana.

So after next September, that will only leave Mississippi, Alabama and South Carolina as the states that have not complied with the Supreme Court’s decision.

So, you can see that we have come a long, long way. But before stopping –it would be wonderful if I could stop here – but I must move on for two or three more minutes and say that there is another sign.

You see, it would be a fact for me to say we have come a long, long way, but it wouldn’t be telling the truth. A fact is the absence of contradiction, but truth is the presence of coherence.

Truth is the relatedness of facts.

Now, it is a fact that we have come a long, long way, but in order to tell the truth, it is necessary to move on and say we have a long, long way to go. If we stop here, we would be the victims of a dangerous optimism. We would be victims of an illusion wrapped in superficiality. So, in order to tell the truth, it’s necessary to move on and say we have a long, long way to go.

Now, it is not difficult to see that. We know that the forces of resistance are rising at times to ominous proportions in the South. The legislative halls of many of our states ring loud with such words as ‘interposition’ and ‘nullification.’

While lynchings have ceased to a great extent, other things are happening. Churches are being bombed, homes are being bombed, schools are being bombed, synagogues are being bombed by forces that are determined to stand against the law of the land.

And although the Negro is voting more than ever before, we know that there are still conniving forces being used to keep the Negro from being a registered voter. Out of the potential 5,000,000 Negro registered voters in the South, we only have 1,300,000.

This means that we have a long, long way to go in order to make justice a reality there in the registration of voting. And although we have come a long, long way in the economic realm, we have a long, long way to there in order to make economic justice a reality.

And then segregation is still with us.

Although we have seen the walls gradually crumble, it is still with us. I imply that figuratively speaking, that Old Man Segregation is on his death bed, but you know history has proven that social systems have a great last-minute breathing power, and the guardians of the status quo are always on hand with their oxygen tents to keep the old order alive, and this is exactly what we see today.

So segregation is still with us.

We are confronted in the South in its glaring and conspicuous forms, and we are confronted in almost every other section of the nation in its hidden and subtle forms.

But if democracy is to live, segregation must die.

Segregation is a cancer in the body politic which must be removed before our democratic health can be realized. In a real sense, the shape of the world today does not permit us the luxury of an anemic democracy. If we are to survive, if we are to stand as a force in the world, if we are to maintain our prestige, we must solve this problem because people are looking over to America.

Just two years ago I traveled all over Africa and talked with leaders from that great continent. One of the things they said to me was this: No amount of extensive handouts and beautiful words would be substitutes for treating our brothers in the United States as first-class citizens and human beings. This came to me from mouth of Prime Minister Nkrumah of Ghana.

Just four months ago, I traveled throughout India and the Middle East and talked with many of the people and leaders of that great country and other people in the Middle East, and these are the things they talked about: That we must solve this problem if we are to stand and to maintain our prestige.

And I can remember very vividly meeting people all over Europe and in the Middle East and in the Far East, and even though many of them could not speak English, they knew how to say ‘Little Rock.’

And these are the things that we must be concerned about – we must be concerned about because we love America and we are out to free not only the Negro.

This is not our struggle today to free 17,000,000 Negroes. It’s bigger than that.

We are seeking to free the soul of America.

Segregation debilitates the white man as well as the Negro. We are to free all men, all races and all groups. This is our responsibility and this is our challenge, and we look to this great new state in our Union as the example and as the inspiration.

As we move on in this realm, let us move on with the faith that this problem can be solved, and that it will be solved, believing firmly that all reality hinges on moral foundations, and we are struggling for what is right, and we are destined to win.

We have come a long, long way. We have a long, long way to go. I close, if you will permit me, by quoting the words of an old Negro slave preacher.

He didn’t quite have his grammar right, but he uttered some words in the form of a prayer with great symbolic profundity and these are the works he said: ‘Lord, we ain’t what we want to be; we ain’t what we ought to be; we ain’t what we gonna be, but thank God, we ain’t what we was.’ Thank you.”

At the conclusion of his address, there was much applause.

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by Peter T Young Leave a Comment

Universal Remedy

“For ka poʻe kahiko (the people of old) the sea was the remedy upon which all relied, from Hawaiʻi to Kauai.”

“When people took sick with stomach upsets (ʻinoʻino ma ka ʻopu), griping stomach aches (nahu), fever (wela), grayish pallor (hailepo), squeamishness (nanue na ʻopu), nausea (polouea), or dizziness (niua,) …”

“… the usual ailments caused by a change of regular diet from sweet potatoes to taro – or from taro to sweet potatoes – a drink of sea water was the universal remedy employed.”

“Those who live on lands that grow sweet potatoes have foul stools (ua ʻeka ko lakou lepo) when they change to taro lands, and are subject to worms (ua ulu ka ilo maloko.)”

“It is the same with those from lands where taro is grown when they go to lands where sweet potatoes are grown. Their custom therefore was to drink sea water.”

“In the early morning they lighted an imu for sweet potatoes and put them in to bake with a chicken and a dried fish.”

“Then they fetched a large container full of sea water, a container of fresh water to wash away the salty taste, and a bunch of sugar cane.”

“They would drink two to four cupfuls of sea water, then a cupful of fresh water, and then chew the sugar cane.”

“The sea water loosened the bowels, and it kept on working until the yellowish and greenish discharges came forth (puka pu no ka lena a me ke pakaiea.)”

“Then the imu was opened, and the sweet potatoes and other foods eaten (without resulting discomfort.) The stomach felt fine, and the body of the elderly or the aged was made comfortable.”

“Another good use for sea water was to secure forgiveness (huikala.) When someone in the family broke an oath sworn against another (hoʻohiki ʻino) – a man against his wife, a mother against her children, relatives against relatives, “cousins” against “cousins” (hoahanau), and so on …”

“… then the pikai, or sprinkling with salt water, was the remedy to remove (the repercussions from the breaking of the oath.)”

“This is how it was done. A basin or bowl of real sea water, or of water to which salt had been added, in which were laced ʻawa rootlets (huluhulu ʻawa) and olena, was the water to absolve and cleanse (kalahala e huikala) the family for the defilement (haumia) caused by the one who had broken his oath.”

“Any defilement pertaining to the house, to fishing, tapa printing, tapa beating, farming, or wauke cultivation, from which trouble had resulted, could be cleansed with pikai; it purified and caused an end to defilement. Implements of labor could also be cleansed of their defilement by pikai.”

“Another way to purify the family was this. In the evening, after dark, a ‘canoe procession’ was formed (waʻa huakaʻi, in which the participants lined up in single file, as in a canoe.)”

“The person at the head of the procession had a pig, another had tapa garments and ninikea tapas, and another held in his hands bunches of kohekohe grass.”

“The last person in the line offered the prayers for forgiveness and carried the basin for the ritual procession to cleanse the defilement (ka poʻi kaʻi huikala.)”

“The ritual procession (kaʻi) had to be perfect, with the voices responding in unison in the prayers for forgiveness and purification, and their steps exactly alike as they went in the procession and entered the mua, the ‘family chapel.’”

“They lighted the imu for the pig and continued their praying until the pig was cooked and eaten.”

“The rewards (uku) they received were health, blessings, material prosperity, and other benefits of this kind to them all…” (Kamakau)

Seawater is 96.5% water by weight. The remaining 3.5% is composed of salts; there are small amounts of organic material and microorganisms.

It could be classified as a medicinal mineral water due to its content of mineral ions such as Na+, Cl-, Mg++, Ca++, and K+, which are present as salts and attached to organic molecules.

With current technology a total of 95 elements have been found in seawater, including trace elements such as I, Fe, Cu, and Zn. About a third of these elements have also been detected in the human body; regardless of the amount, most of them are essential elements. (Valencia) (The image is Surfer Magazine’s photo of the year, 2011.)

© 2026 Hoʻokuleana LLC

by Peter T Young 1 Comment

Russell Hubbard

Russell Hubbard was born in Hamden (then part of New Haven,) Connecticut on October 18, 1784, the eldest son of Deacon and General John and Martha Hubbard, of Hamden, Connecticut (and grandson of the Rev. John Hubbard of Meriden.)

He is said to have studied for the ministry after graduation from Yale, but a fondness for travel drove him abroad. (Dexter, Yale)

Hubbard had gone to sea following his graduation in 1806, hoping that a change of air and climate could resolve some unspecific health concerns.

In 1807, Hubbard, aboard the Triumph (Captained by Caleb Brintnall) anchored in Kealakekua Bay. There, ʻŌpūkahaʻia, a Hawaiian who had recently lost his parents in the island war that was waging, was contemplating his future.

“For some time I began to think about leaving that country, to go to some other part of the world. I did not care where I shall go to. I thought to myself that if I should get away, and go to some other country, probably I may find some comfort, more than to live there, without father and mother.”

“About this time there was a ship come from New York; – Captain Brintnall the master of the ship. As soon as it got into the harbour, in the very place where I lived, I thought of no more but to take the best chance I had, and if the captain have no objection, to take me as one of his own servants and to obey his word.”

“After supper the captain made some inquiry to see if we were willing to come to America; and soon I made a motion with my head that I was willing to go. This man was very agreeable, and his kindness was much delighted in my heart, as if I was his own son, and he was my own father. Thus I still continue thankful for his kindness towards me.”

“My parting with them (grandmother, aunt & uncle) was disagreeable to them and to me, but I was willing to leave all my relations, friends and acquaintance; expected to see them no more in this world.”

“We set out on our journey …” (ʻŌpūkahaʻia)

“Among these men I found a very desirable young man, by name Russell Hubbard, a son of Gen H of New Haven. This Mr Hubbard was a member of Yale College.”

“He was a friend of Christ. Christ was with him when I saw him, but I knew it not. ‘Happy is the man that put his trust in God!’ Mr Hubbard was very kind to me on our passage, and taught me the letters in English spelling-book.” (ʻŌpūkahaʻia)

After travelling to the American North West, then to China, they landed in New York in 1809. They continued to New Haven, Connecticut. ʻŌpūkahaʻia was eager to study and learn – seeking to be a student at Yale.

“In this place I become acquainted with many students belonging to the College. By these pious students I was told more about God than what I had heard before … Many times I wished to hear more about God, but find no body to interpret it to me.”

“I attended many meetings on the sabbath, but find difficulty to understand the minister. I could understand or speak, but very little of the English language.” (ʻŌpūkahaʻia)

ʻŌpūkahaʻia “was sitting on the steps of a Yale building, weeping. A solicitous student stopped to inquire what was wrong, and Obookiah (the spelling of his name, based on its sound) said, ‘No one will give me learning.’”

The student was Edwin Dwight, distant cousin of the college president. “(W)hen the question was put him, ‘Do you wish to learn?’ his countenance began to brighten and … he served it with eagerness.” (Haley)

ʻŌpūkahaʻia latched upon the Christian religion, converted to Christianity in 1815 and in 1817 became the first student at the Foreign Mission School established at Cornwall, by the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions.

Unfortunately, ʻŌpūkahaʻia died in 1818. A story of his life was written (“Memoirs of Henry Obookiah”.) This book was put together by Edwin Dwight (after ʻŌpūkahaʻia died.) It was an edited collection of ʻŌpūkahaʻia’s letters and journals/diaries. This book inspired the New England missionaries to volunteer to carry his message to the Sandwich Islands (Hawaiʻi.)

ʻŌpūkahaʻia is also associated with another book. It is believed ʻŌpūkahaʻia classmates (and future missionaries,) Samuel Ruggles and James Ely, after ʻŌpūkahaʻia’s death, went over his papers and began to prepare material on the Hawaiian language to be taken to Hawaiʻi and used in missionary work.

The work was written by Ruggles and assembled into a book – by Herman Daggett, principal of the Foreign Mission School – and credit for the work goes to ʻŌpūkahaʻia.

Just as Russell Hubbard used an English spelling book to start ʻŌpūkahaʻia with his studies aboard the Triumph, ʻŌpūkahaʻia’s “work served as the basis for the foreign language materials prepared by American and Hawaiian students at the Foreign Mission School in Cornwall, Connecticut, in the months prior to the departure of the first company of missionaries to Hawai’i in October 1819.” (Rumford)

In his journal, ʻŌpūkahaʻia first mentions grammar in his account of the summer of 1813: “A part of the time (I) was trying to translate a few verses of the Scriptures into my own language, and in making a kind of spelling-book, taking the English alphabet and giving different names and different sounds. I spent time in making a kind of spelling-book, dictionary, grammar.” (Schutz)

But his spelling was unique …

References to Webster’s ‘Spelling’ book appear in the accounts by folks at the New England mission school. As you know, English letters have different sounds for the same letter. For instance, the letter “a” has a different sound when used in words like: late, hall and father.

Noah Webster devised a method to help differentiate between the sounds and assigned numbers to various letter sounds – and used these in his Speller. (Webster did not substitute the numbers corresponding to a letter’s sound into words in his spelling or dictionary book; it was used as an explanation of the difference in the sounds of letters.)

The following is a chart for some of the letters related to the numbers assigned, depending on the sound they represent.

Long Vowels in English (Webster)
..1…..2…..3……4…….5……6……..7…….8
..a…..a…..a……e…….i…….o……..o…….u
late, ask, hall, here, sight, note, move, truth

It seems ʻŌpūkahaʻia used Noah Webster’s Speller in his writings and substituted the numbers assigned to the various sounds and incorporated them into the words of his grammar book (essentially putting the corresponding number into the spelling of the word.)

Some believe this manuscript is the first grammar book on the Hawaiian language. However, when reading the document, many of the words are not recognizable. Here’s a sampling of a few of the words: 3-o-le; k3-n3-k3; l8-n3 and; 8-8-k8.

“Once we know how the vowel letters and numbers were used, ʻŌpūkahaʻia’s short grammar becomes more than just a curiosity; it is a serious work that is probably the first example of the Hawaiian language recorded in a systematic way. Its alphabet is a good deal more consistent than those used by any of the explorers who attempted to record Hawaiian words.” (Schutz)

Using ʻŌpūkahaʻia’s odd-looking words mentioned above, we can decipher what they represent by substituting the code and pronounce the words accordingly (for the “3,” substitute with “a”(that sounds like “hall”) and replace the “8” with “u,” (that sounds like “truth”) – so, 3-o-le transforms to ʻaʻole (no;) k3-n3-k3 transforms to kanaka (man;); l8-n3 transforms to luna (upper) and 8-8-k8 transforms to ʻuʻuku (small.)

“It might be said that the first formal writing system for the Hawaiian language, meaning alphabet, spelling rules and grammar, was created in Connecticut by a Hawaiian named Henry ʻŌpūkahaʻia. He began work as early as 1814 and left much unfinished at his death in 1818.” (Rumford)

I encourage you to review the images in the folder; I had the opportunity to review and photograph the several pages of ʻŌpūkahaʻia’s grammar book. (Special thanks to the Hawaiian Mission Houses Historic Site and Archives and the Hawaiian Historical Society.)

Back to Russell Hubbard, who first taught ʻŌpūkahaʻia the letters … “in November or December, 1810, in his 27th year, (he was) lost at sea, with his next younger brother, on board the brig Triton, on a voyage from New Haven to the West Indies.” (Dexter, Yale)

© 2026 Hoʻokuleana LLC

by Peter T Young 4 Comments

Happy New Year!!!

I realize it is simply a change in the movement on the clock and the turning of the page on the calendar, but we still celebrate this change with anticipation and optimism.

Happy New Year, everyone!!!

(FYI – This begins the last year of these scheduled daily posts (it has been 15-years). I will continue to research and share what I learn, but the daily frequency will end at the end of this year.)