Images of Old Hawaiʻi

by Peter T Young Leave a Comment

Crossing Anahulu Stream

When the Reverend John Emerson and his wife Ursula arrived in Hawai‘i in 1832, they were assigned to establish an American Protestant missionary station in Waialua. (Clark)

“[T]wo new houses are building which we shall occupy as soon as they are finished. Only a few rods from them is a fine spring of running water, which feeds a small river large enough for canoes.”

“This is the Anahulu which, bending and broadening, empties about a third of a mile away into Waialua Bay, where the ocean waves roll in upon a sandy beach.” “The home was known thereafter as ‘Waipuolo,’ ‘The Bubbling Spring.’” (Emerson)

“The Anahulu river (cave of the hulu – a kind of fish) is a narrow estuary averaging forty feet wide, which makes up from Waialua Bay a mile or more to the mouth of the Kawailoa stream.”

“On its opposite banks were two homes facing each other. On one side were the Gulicks, and on the other the Emersons. In each family there were seven boys and a younger sister, the Gulicks ranging three or four years older than the Emersons.” (Emerson)

Later it was found that a “need of the Waialua farmers was easier access to the Honolulu market, which could only be reached by a horse-trail leading through deep gulches and streams, or by small coasters that had to contend with currents and baffling winds.”

“Accordingly, after much urging, it was decided by the Government to develop the horse-trail into a road and bridge the streams. Of course this work required supervision. The only man at hand who could plan it and handle both native and white workmen, was my father, so he was asked to add to his other duties that of being the road supervisor of the district.”

“During the two years my father held this office, the road up and down the sides of five gulches was graded and made fit for carriages and oxcarts, and over the streams five bridges were built. Eighteen miles of roadway were constructed to connect with the road already built from Honolulu to Ewa.”

“Some of the time my father had a gang of fifty or more natives under him making the road, and several white carpenters at work building the bridges. When all was finished, business in Waialua began to boom.” (Emerson)

Later, “the law declares that vehicles weighing more than 15 tons shall not cross public bridges or traverse public roads … (Star Bulletin, July 22, 1915) The bridge crossing Anahulu Stream in Haleiwa was designed to carry horse-drawn carriages.  (Griffin)

Then, “traffic was stopped … when the Anahulu bridge between Waialua and Waialee collapsed under the weight of a twenty two ton plow tractor owned by the Waialua plantation.” (Hawaiian Gazette, July 20, 1915)

Around-the-island traffic stopped, “The Anahulu bridge, over the Anahulu stream at Waialua on the main road between Haleiwa and Kahuku; will be closed to traffic until further notice.” (Star Bulletin, July 20, 1915)

Then a new reinforced concrete bridge was planned across Anahulu Stream. George E Marshall was given a $62,000 contract to build the double arched span (each 80 feet long). (Advertiser, Aug 26, 1920)

During construction, the bridge was almost lost. “Working in the pouring rain from 9 o’clock Thursday night to 2 o’clock Friday morning, a gang of workmen directed by George e Marshall saved the new Haleiwa bridge, for which Marshall is the contractor, from probable destruction.”

“[T]he stream, usually low, became a raging torrent due to the kona storm, and was fully 100 yards wide and 10 feet deep. Masses of sugar cane, wooden flumes, boards and debris of various kinds were buried against the bridge by the storm waters and desperate work was necessary to keep the debris from backing up the flood.” (Star Bulletin, Dec 27, 1920)

The bridge later faced a different threat, “The old bridge channels through itself all the life around it. Spanning the Anahulu River, it pulls together the banks of Haleiwa.”

“It remembers the old and sees the new.  Its too-narrow arches funnel the tide of progress filtering through the town. ‘Slow down’ it says ‘look at me.’  Built in 1921 when Haleiwa was a sleepy town, the bridge tries to lessen the pace of the traffic it channels through the still sleepy town.”

“The bridge still hears the plop of boots through the taro patches and the lap of waves against the orange and white sampans. The shrill whistle of the cane train is gone, and the clanking rumble of the Tournahauler is fading.”

“The bridge heard the Big-City folk call its neighboring buildings ‘delapidated’  but only scoffed. ‘Old things are good things,’ it said. ‘They allow the old to remember and the young to learn.’

“The bridge feels the surge of the tide below and the stain of red mud on its once-white arches. It feels the weight of small boys jeering the long tour cars or quietly fishing.”

“As the new small boat harbor was carved into the earth at its side, the bridge watched in wonder. Man diverted its river.  Man cut off a chunk of the ocean for quiet waters. Man could easily have blown up the too-narrow bridge. Fortunately he didn’t.”

“Beautification once meant to the bridge a new coat of white paint. Now it may mean survival to the matron of Haleiwa, the guardian of the rotting buildings.”

“Like all structures the bridge once faced destruction in the face of bigger and more modern thoroughfares. But plans were changed. The new highway that will bring new faces in search of recreation will pass through Haleiwa nearer the mountains.”

“The old Kamehameha Highway will become a scenic route, a roadway of the past, if the young people of Haleiwa have their way.”

“The rebuilding and new construction in Haleiwa will take on a theme, so have decided the young men who once fished from the bridge. The most dominant scene will be the harbor, the sampans, the fishing village. The other scene, further up the river,  will be the taro patches, the small riverside vegetable farms.”

“The new life that grows up along the shores of the river and beaches will share the laziness and quiet of the old life. And standing as a guardian between the two scenes will be the bridge, listening, seeing, feeling.”  (Star Bulletin, Feb 14, 1967)

Due to its shape, it earned the name ‘Rainbow Bridge’ – a little more appealing that its technical name, ‘Kamehameha Highway Bridge #603.’  It is one of the most recognized symbols of Hale‘iwa. (Historic Hawai‘i Foundation)

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by Peter T Young Leave a Comment

Fur Desert

By the sixteenth century, dozens of bands of people lived in present-day Oregon, with concentrated populations along the Columbia River, in the western valleys, and around coastal estuaries and inlets. (Robbins)

Captain James Cook’s Third Voyage to the Pacific in the 1770s took him to the Pacific Northwest Coast. After Cook was killed in Hawai‘i, his associate George Vancouver continued to explore and chart the Northwest Coast.  Commercial traders soon followed, exchanging copper, weapons, liquor, and varied goods for sea otter pelts. (Barbour)

The fur trade was the earliest and longest-enduring economic enterprise in North America. It had an unbroken chain spanning three centuries. During the 1540s on the St. Lawrence River, Jacques Cartier traded European goods, such as axes, cloth, and glass beads, to Indians.

In 1670, King Charles II of England granted a royal charter to create the Hudson’s Bay Company (HBC), under the governorship of the king’s cousin Prince Rupert of the Rhine. According to the Charter, the HBC received rights to:

“The sole Trade and Commerce of all those Seas, Streights, Bays, Rivers, Lakes, Creeks, and Sounds, in whatsoever Latitude they shall be, that lie within the entrance of the Streights commonly called Hudson’s Streights …”

“together with all the Lands, Countries and Territories, upon the Coasts and Confines of the Seas, Streights, Bays, Lakes, Rivers, Creeks and Sounds, aforesaid, which are not now actually possessed by any of our Subjects, or by the Subjects of any other Christian Prince or State …”

“and that the said Land be from henceforth reckoned and reputed as one of our Plantations or Colonies in America, called Rupert’s Land.”

The Royal Charter of 1670 granted “the Governor and Company of Adventurers of England trading into Hudson Bay” exclusive trading rights over the entire Hudson Bay drainage system. It named the area Rupert’s Land in honor of Prince Rupert, cousin to King Charles II and HBC’s first Governor.

Native people provided furs and hides as well as food, equipment, interpreters, guides and protection in exchange for European, Asian, and American manufactures.  A primary object of the terrestrial fur trade was beaver, the soft underfur of which was turned into expensive and sought-after beaver hats.

In quest of “soft gold” (beaver, otter, and other lightweight and highly valuable fine furs), which created fortunes large and small for lucky entrepreneurs, the fur hunters’ rosters included capable explorers who expanded the fur trade’s theater of operations and also shed light on western geography. (Barbour)

Traders drafted many useful maps and wrote reports meant to help their governments secure geopolitical objectives. Similarly, by providing quarters, protection, and aid to scientists and artists at isolated trading posts, fur traders supported the study of Native Nations and natural history. (Barbour)

Later, the North American fur trade became the earliest global economic enterprise. The maritime fur trade focused on acquiring furs of sea otters, seals and other animals from the Pacific Northwest Coast and Alaska. The furs were to be mostly sold in China in exchange for tea, silks, porcelain and other Chinese goods to be sold in Europe and the US.

Europe’s interest in the North Pacific quickened in the last quarter of the eighteenth century, as Spanish, British, French, Russian, and eventually ships from the United States came into increasing contact with Native people in coastal estuaries. (Robbins)

Following the American Revolution, the new nation needed money and a vital surge in trade. In 1787, a group of Boston merchants decided to send two ships on a desperate mission around Cape Horn and into the Pacific Ocean, to establish new trade with China, settle an outpost on territory claimed by the Spanish and find the legendary Northwest Passage.

By the close of the eighteenth century, the Northwest Coast had become a place with an emerging global economy. (Robbins)  Needing supplies in their journey, the traders soon realized they could economically barter for provisions in Hawai‘i; for instance any type of iron, a common nail, chisel or knife, could fetch far more fresh fruit meat and water than a large sum of money would in other ports.

A triangular trade network emerged linking the Pacific Northwest coast, China and the Hawaiian Islands to Britain and the United States (especially New England).

The growing competition on the continent became concerning to the Hudson’s Bay Company and it sought to separate its land. The Oregon Country had not become important to the HBC until 1821, when the HBC merged with the rival North West Company.

The HBC accepted the inevitable loss of most of the region to the Americans and focused on retaining the area bounded by the Columbia River on the south and east, the Pacific Ocean on the west, and the forty-ninth parallel on the north, an area encompassing potential Puget Sound ports and the transportation route provided by the Columbia River.

The HBC developed the idea of clearing the Snake River Basin of beaver in order to create a fur desert, or buffer zone, that would discourage the westward flow of American trappers who began to reach the Northern Rockies in substantial numbers in the 1820s.

The fur desert policy began in response to a territorial dispute over the Oregon Country. The Americans sought control of the entire region. The HBC’s experiences across northern North America had taught a painful lesson: competition depleted beaver trapping grounds and, therefore, profits.

During a visit to the Columbia District to determine its usefulness to the HBC, HBC leader George Simpson carried the idea one step further. He wrote in an 1824 journal entry:

“If properly managed no question exists that it would yield handsome profits as we have convincing proof that the country is a rich preserve of Beaver and which for political reasons we should endeavor to destroy as fast as possible.” The fur desert policy had begun.

To protect its interest, between then and 1841, the Hudson’s Bay Company carried out what is known as the fur desert policy – a strategy of clearing the basin of beaver to keep encroaching Americans from coming west of the Continental Divide. (Ott)

The HBC assembled varied groups (brigades) of trappers to go into the Snake Country to trap in the region. Each chief trader who led the Snake Country expeditions during the most important years, from 1823 to 1841, worked under the pressure of the HBC’s expectations of good pelt returns, the exclusion of Americans from the region, and the trapper’s return in time to meet the annual supply ship.

During the critical years when the policy was in place, the HBC took approximately 35,000 beaver out of the region. The 1823 – 1824 brigade alone yielded 4,500 beaver. By 1834, the average annual yield was down to 665 beaver. (Ott)

If there remained any doubt that the trappers intended to “ruin” the rivers and streams, the journals clarify their goal for the area. At the Owhyhee River in 1826, Ogden added this comment to the end of his daily entry: “This day 11 Beaver 1 Otter we have now ruined this quarter we may prepare to Start.”

Two weeks later, at the Burnt River, Ogden wrote George Simpson: “the South side of the South branch of the Columbia [the Snake River] has been examined and now ascertained to be destitute of Beaver.” (Ott)

Through their use of efficient Snake Country trapping brigades, the HBC nearly eradicated beaver in the region and, in the process, redefined the physical space in which people would live.

“From the start, there is a sense that trapping exceeded the resilience of the local beaver population. As time passed, the ransacking done by the trappers produced a widespread effect. The effects of American and Indian trapping also contributed to the success of the fur desert policy.”  (Ott)

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by Peter T Young Leave a Comment

Kamokuʻakulikuli

Coral doesn’t grow in fresh water.  So, where a stream enters a coastal area, there is typically no coral growth at that point – and, as the freshwater runs out into the ocean, a coral-less channel is created.

In its natural state, thanks to Nuʻuanu Stream, Honolulu Harbor originally was a deep embayment formed by the outflow of Nuʻuanu Stream creating an opening in the shallow coral reef along the south shore of Oʻahu.

Honolulu Harbor (it was earlier known as Kuloloia) was entered by the first foreigner, Captain William Brown of the English ship Butterworth, in 1794.

They called the harbor “Fair Haven” which may be a rough translation of the Hawaiian name Honolulu (it was also sometimes called Brown’s Harbor.)  The name Honolulu (meaning “sheltered bay” – with numerous variations in spelling) soon came into use.

More sailors came.  Captain William Sumner arrived in the Islands in 1807.  Arriving first at Kaua‘i, Sumner jumped-ship and lived amongst the Hawaiians there.  Kaumuali‘i was the king of Kaua‘i at the time, and when he saw Sumner, he was entranced by this youth, and took him as a “keiki hoʻokama” (adopted him.)

In the Islands, Kamehameha I, who had been living at Waikiki, moved his Royal Residence to Pākākā at Honolulu Harbor in 1809. Sumner served as one of the captains on ships in this fleet.

Some foreigners, like Sumner who sailed ships for Kamehameha, Liholiho (Kamehameha II) and Kauikeaouli (Kamehameha III,) were awarded land grants for their services.

In 1819, Kamehameha I gave land to Sumner for services rendered.  This site was at the corner of today’s Hotel and Punchbowl Streets (near where the present Barracks are at ʻIolani Palace.)

Sumner was also awarded “… a fishery of the 647-Diamond Head acres of the reef lying between the Kalihi and Honolulu Harbor Channels.  The area carried the Hawaiian name of Kaholaloa (Koholaloa, Kahololoa, Kaholoa.)  The Ewa portion of this reef was designated Mokauea.”

Hawai‘i’s whaling era began in 1819 when two New England ships, the Balena out of New Bedford, and the Equator, out of Nantucket, became the first whaling ships to arrive in the Hawaiian Islands.

Rich whaling waters were discovered near Japan and soon hundreds of ships headed for the area.   The central location of the Hawaiian Islands between America and Japan brought many whaling ships to the Islands.

With increased whalers to the Islands, so did disease.  A law was passed noting, “All vessels having had contagious diseases on board … on arrival at Sandwich Islands, or at any port hereof, shall be entirely at the direction of the Board of Health … all vessels quarantined … shall keep constantly flying, during the day, a yellow flag at the main top.”  (Quarantine Laws, May 29, 1839)

The first efforts to deepen Honolulu Harbor were made in the 1840s. The idea to use the dredged material, composed of sand and crushed coral, to fill in low-lying lands was quickly adopted.   Some of the material was deposited on the fringing reef.

“In the year 1849 … the land of Kahololoa, was confirmed to William Sumner by Land Commission Award No, 153 … The title to these lands passed to JI Dowsett and John K Sumner, and from them to the Dowsett Company, Limited, and the Oahu Railway & Land Company.”

In 1872, the small island off Iwilei – “Kamokuʻakulikuli” – became the site of a quarantine station used to handle the influx of immigrant laborers drawn to the islands’ developing sugar plantations. The site is described as “little more than a raised platform of sand and pilings to house the station, with walkways leading to the harbor edge wharf, where a concrete sea wall had been constructed” and as “a low, swampy area on a reef in the harbor”.

Improvements were made.   “Looking seaward from the prison I noticed a building which had been erected upon the reef, and on enquiry found it to be a Quarantine Station. … (it was) used occasionally as a temporary accommodation for immigrants.”

Then, the arrival “of a vessel bringing twenty-five Chinese passengers, among whose crew small-pox had broken out, demonstrated the foresight of the Government in erecting this commodious building…”  (Bowser, 1880-1881; Maly)

More came.  “Over seven hundred Chinese immigrants, mostly men, who came here on the steamer Septima on the 13th of last month, were placed in quarantine on their arrival, on account of the existence of small pox among them. For nine days they were detained on board of the ship in the harbor, until the quarters were prepared for them on the quarantine island.”

“Those ill with small-pox were removed from among the others as soon as the disease appeared, and finally when about twenty days had passed since the last case had been removed the Board of Health allowed them to go as fast as they found employment; or as they found responsible persons who would become responsible to the Board of Immigration that they would not become vagrants or a charge on the community for their support.”  (Hawaiian Gazette, March 23, 1881)

By 1888, Kamokuʻākulikuli Island had been expanded and was known as “Quarantine Island.”  If vessels arrived at the harbor after 15 days at sea and contagious disease was aboard, quarantine and disinfecting procedures were required at Quarantine Island.  (Cultural Surveys)

“Upon annexation of the islands the United States took possession of Quarantine Island in the belief that the title to that land had been vested in the Hawaiian government. (Dowsett and OR&L filed suit.)”

In a compromise, “in 1902 the (Oʻahu Railway & Land Company) and the Dowsett Company turned over to the federal government 550-acres of what is now Quarantine Island and adjacent ground, and for themselves kept only 82-acres.  (They also retained wharfage privileges and rights to access the channel/harbor.)”  (Honolulu Star Bulleting, June 16, 1914)

Quarantine Island became the largest United States quarantine station of the period, accommodating 2,255-individuals.  This facility included two hospitals and a crematorium.  (Cultural Surveys)

Dredged materials from improvements to Honolulu harbor had enlarged Quarantine Island again and by 1906 the island was encircled by a seawall and was 38-acres.  By 1908 the Quarantine Station consisted of Quarantine Island and the reclaimed land of the Quarantine wharf (with a causeway connecting the two.)

On February 15, 1910, Honolulu Harbor Light station was built and the beacon went into service. Soon, with added filling and subsequent connection of the two emergent islands on the reef, the resulting single island took the name Sand Island.

In 1916, Sand Island Military Reservation was established on the reclaimed land of the quarantine station. Subsequent episodes of harbor improvements resulted in enlarging the island and, by 1925 the reef around Sand Island had been removed and the island was completely surrounded by water.  (Dye)

Following the bombing of Pearl Harbor and declaration of martial law on December 7, 1941, military authorities immediately rounded up Japanese and placed them in internment camps.  Those arrested on Oʻahu were initially crowded into the Honolulu Immigration Station pending a hearing or a short boat ride to Sand Island.

In May 1942, military authorities turned the quarantine station into the Sand Island Detention Center, complete with 10-foot-tall fences.  Other internment facilities were constructed in the Islands and on the continent.  By the end of the war, an estimated 1,440-people were detained or interned in Hawai’i at one of five locations on O’ahu, the Big Island, Maui and Kaua’i.

During the early-1940s, Sand Island became the headquarters of the Army Port and Service Command and in the early 1940s the island was further enlarged with fill materials from the dredging of the seaplane runway.  (Dye)

In 1959, the Department of the Army transferred Sand Island to the Territory of Hawaiʻi, and in 1963 ownership was transferred to the State of Hawaiʻi.  (Star Bulletin, March 12, 1991)  The island was once home to the Jaycee’s 50th State Fair.

Initial vehicular access was via a causeway; in April 1962, the Army Corps of Engineers completed the Lt John R Slattery Bridge (Slattery was the first Army Corps of Engineers Honolulu District Engineer in 1905.) The two-lane bascule bridge (draw bridge) originally could be raised and lowered to allow boat traffic to pass underneath.

In the late-1980s, though, the state permanently sealed the metal bridge and built a new concrete bridge alongside, creating four lanes to accommodate the growing commercial traffic on and off the island.

Several other names have been associated with Sand Island. Lot Kamehameha (Kamehameha V) gave the name Mauliola to the island in reference to the island’s use as a quarantine station. (Star Bulletin, April 28, 1969)  Older names for the island were Kamokuʻākulikuli or Kahaka‘aulana. Rainbow Island and ʻĀnuenue were names used in the 1970s. (Dye)

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by Peter T Young Leave a Comment

Twain and the Volcano

“Early in 1866, George Barnes invited [Mark Twain] to resign [his] reportership on his paper, the San Francisco Morning Call, and for some months thereafter, [he] was without money or work; then [he] had a pleasant turn of fortune.”

“The proprietors of the Sacramento Union, a great and influential daily journal, sent [Twain] to the Sandwich Islands to write four letters a month at twenty dollars a piece.”

He also wrote books about some of his travels (that included a visit to Hawai‘i) … one such, Roughing It.  Here are some of his comments about a visit to Kilauea Volcano – from that series, as well as his other writing.

“Monday morning we were close to the island of Hawaii.  Two of its high mountains were in view – Mauna Loa and Hualaiai. The latter is an imposing peak, but being only ten thousand feet high is seldom mentioned or heard of.”

“The rays of glittering snow and ice, that clasped [Maua Loa’s] summit like a claw, looked refreshing when viewed from the blistering climate we were in.”

“One could stand on that mountain (wrapped up in blankets and furs to keep warm), and while he nibbled a snowball or an icicle to quench his thirst he could look down the long sweep of its sides and see spots where plants are growing that grow only where the bitter cold of Winter prevails …”

“… lower down he could see sections devoted to production that thrive in the temperate zone alone; and at the bottom of the mountain he could see the home of the tufted cocoa-palms and other species of vegetation that grow only in the sultry atmosphere of eternal Summer.”

“He could see all the climes of the world at a single glance of the eye, and that glance would only pass over a distance of four or five miles as the bird flies!”

We “sailed down to Kau, where we disembarked and took final leave of the vessel.  Next day we bought horses and bent our way over the summer-clad mountain-terraces, toward the great volcano of Kilauea (Ke-low-way-ah).”

“We made nearly a two days’ journey of it, but that was on account of laziness.  Toward sunset on the second day, we reached an elevation of some four thousand feet above sea level, and as we picked our careful way through billowy wastes of lava long generations ago stricken dead and cold in the climax of its tossing fury …”

“… we began to come upon signs of the near presence of the volcano – signs in the nature of ragged fissures that discharged jets of sulphurous vapor into the air, hot from the molten ocean down in the bowels of the mountain.”

“I was disappointed when I saw the great volcano of Kilauea to‐day for the first time. It is a comfort to me to know that I fully expected to be disappointed, however, and so, in one sense at least, I was not disappointed.”

“I said to myself ‘Only a considerable hole in the ground ‐ nothing to Haleakala ‐ a wide, level, black plain in the bottom of it, and a few little sputtering jets of fire occupying a place about as large as an ordinary potato‐patch, up in one corner ‐ no smoke to amount to anything.’”

“I reflected that night was the proper time to view a volcano … I turned my eyes upon the volcano again (now, at night.)”

“Perched upon the edge of the crater, at the opposite end from where we stood, was a small look-out house – say three miles away.  It assisted us, by comparison, to comprehend and appreciate the great depth of the basin – it looked like a tiny martin-box clinging at the eaves of a cathedral.”

“Arrived at the little thatched look out house, we rested our elbows on the railing in front and looked abroad over the wide crater and down over the sheer precipice at the seething fires beneath us.”

“The view was a startling improvement on my daylight experience. I turned to see the effect on the balance of the company and found the reddest-faced set of men I almost ever saw.”

“In the strong light every countenance glowed like red-hot iron, every shoulder was suffused with crimson and shaded rearward into dingy, shapeless obscurity! The place below looked like the infernal regions and these men like half-cooled devils just come up on a furlough.

“I turned my eyes upon the volcano again.  The ‘cellar’ was tolerably well lighted up.  For a mile and a half in front of us and half a mile on either side, the floor of the abyss was magnificently illuminated …”

“You could imagine those lights the width of a continent away – and that hidden under the intervening darkness were hills, and winding rivers, and weary wastes of plain and desert – and even then the tremendous vista stretched on, and on, and on!–to the fires and far beyond!”

“You could not compass it – it was the idea of eternity made tangible – and the longest end of it made visible to the naked eye!”

“The greater part of the vast floor of the desert under us was as black as ink, and apparently smooth and level; but over a mile square of it was ringed and streaked and striped with a thousand branching streams of liquid and gorgeously brilliant fire!”

“It looked like a colossal railroad map of the State of Massachusetts done in chain lightning on a midnight sky.  Imagine it–imagine a coal-black sky shivered into a tangled net-work of angry fire!”

“Here and there were gleaming holes a hundred feet in diameter, broken in the dark crust, and in them the melted lava–the color a dazzling white just tinged with yellow–was boiling and surging furiously …”

“… and from these holes branched numberless bright torrents in many directions, like the spokes of a wheel, and kept a tolerably straight course for a while and then swept round in huge rainbow curves, or made a long succession of sharp worm-fence angles, which looked precisely like the fiercest jagged lightning.”

“These streams met other streams, and they mingled with and crossed and recrossed each other in every conceivable direction, like skate tracks on a popular skating ground.”

“Sometimes streams twenty or thirty feet wide flowed from the holes to some distance without dividing –and through the opera-glasses we could see that they ran down small, steep hills and were genuine cataracts of fire, white at their source, but soon cooling and turning to the richest red, grained with alternate lines of black and gold.”

“Some of the streams preferred to mingle together in a tangle of fantastic circles, and then they looked something like the confusion of ropes one sees on a ship’s deck when she has just taken in sail and dropped anchor–provided one can imagine those ropes on fire.”

“Through the glasses, the little fountains scattered about looked very beautiful.  They boiled, and coughed, and spluttered, and discharged sprays of stringy red fire–of about the consistency of mush, for instance–from ten to fifteen feet into the air, along with a shower of brilliant white sparks–a quaint and unnatural mingling of gouts of blood and snow-flakes!”

“We had circles and serpents and streaks of lightning all twined and wreathed and tied together, without a break throughout an area more than a mile square (that amount of ground was covered, though it was not strictly “square”) …”

“… and it was with a feeling of placid exultation that we reflected that many years had elapsed since any visitor had seen such a splendid display …”

“I forgot to say that the noise made by the bubbling lava is not great, heard as we heard it from our lofty perch.  It makes three distinct sounds–a rushing, a hissing, and a coughing or puffing sound …”

“… and if you stand on the brink and close your eyes it is no trick at all to imagine that you are sweeping down a river on a large low-pressure steamer, and that you hear the hissing of the steam about her boilers, the puffing from her escape-pipes and the churning rush of the water abaft her wheels.  The smell of sulphur is strong, but not unpleasant to a sinner.”

“We left the lookout house at ten o’clock in a half cooked condition, because of the heat from Pele’s furnaces, and wrapping up in blankets, for the night was cold, we returned to our Hotel.”

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by Peter T Young Leave a Comment

Richards Street

Some suggest it was named after missionary William Richards (later, advisor to King Kamehameha III – instructor in law, political economy and the administration of affairs generally;) others note it was named for a man selling luggage to tourists in his shop on that street.

One thing is certain, in looking at early maps of Honolulu, Richards Street was different.  Let’s look back.

Honolulu Harbor, also known as Kuloloia, was entered by the first foreigner, Captain William Brown of the English ship Butterworth, in 1794.  He named the harbor “Fair Haven.”  The name Honolulu (meaning “sheltered bay” – with numerous variations in spelling) soon came into use.

Hawaiʻi’s streets, for the most part, started out as trails that were widened and straightened, as horses, buggies and then transit became available.  In Honolulu, over time, trails headed mauka following and crossing the Nuʻuanu River, or headed southerly (to Kālia – Waikīkī) or easterly (toward Mānoa.)

Some of the present downtown Honolulu street alignments have origins dating back to 1809. It was about this time that Kamehameha the Great moved his capital from Waikīkī to what is now downtown Honolulu.

A large yam field (what is now much of the core of downtown Honolulu – what is now bounded by King, Nuʻuanu, Beretania and Alakea Streets) was planted to provide visiting ships with an easily-stored food supply for their voyages (supplying ships with food and water was a growing part of the Islands’ economy.)

On the continent or in the Islands, in the early-1800s there was limited private and public transportation and it was expensive. Thus, workers’ homes were always within two miles of downtown – less than an hour’s walk.   For these reasons cities of the mid-1800s were virtually all small, dense and on the water.

In 1825, Andrew Bloxam (naturalist aboard the HMS Blonde) noted in Honolulu that, “The streets are formed without order or regularity.  Some of the huts are surrounded by low fences or wooden stakes … As fires often happen the houses are all built apart from each other.  The streets or lanes are far from being clean …” (Clark, HJH)

In 1838, a major street improvement project was started. Honolulu was to be a planned town. Kinaʻu (Kuhina Nui Kaʻahumanu II) published the following proclamation: “I shall widen the streets in our city and break up some new places to make five streets on the length of the land, and six streets on the breadth of the land… .” She designated her husband, Governor Mataio Kekūanāoʻa, to head the project.

In 1845, Commander Charles Wilkes criticized the city by saying: “The streets, if so they may be called, have no regularity as to width, and are ankle-deep in light dust and sand … and in some places, offensive sink-holes strike the senses, in which are seen wallowing some old and corpulent hogs.”

It wasn’t until 1850 that streets received official names.  On August 30, 1850, the Privy Council first named Hawaiʻi’s streets; there were 35-streets that received official names that day (29 were in Downtown Honolulu, the others nearby.)

So, what was different about Richards Street?

Tradewinds blow from the Northeast; the channel into Honolulu Harbor has a northeasterly alignment.  Early ships calling to Honolulu were powered only by sails.

The entrance to the harbor was narrow and lined on either side with reefs.  Ships don’t sail into the wind.  Given all of this, Honolulu Harbor was difficult to enter.

Although Bloxam said Honolulu “streets are formed without order and regularity” and Wilkes confirmed they “had no regularity in width”, early mapping notes Richards was the exception.

Richards Street is, alone of Honolulu streets, in the combination of being straight, of even width and reaching to the water-front; also  it is in line with the edge of the reef bordering the harbor channel.  (Clark)

In the early years, boats either anchored off-shore, or they were pulled into the harbor (this was done with canoes (it might take eight double canoes with 16-20 men each)) or it meant men (different accounts give the number from 200 to 400.)

In 1816 (as stories suggest,) Richards Street alignment was the straight path used to pull ships through the narrow channel into the harbor, working in the pre-dawn calm when winds and currents were slow.

Effectively, the street was the inland tow path.

Later, Governor Kekūanāoʻa organized an ox-team to pull the larger vessels up the narrow channel into the harbor basin.

“The ox-team waited on the eastern point of the harbor entrance until connected by a hawser (rope) with the vessel anchored in the deep water outside. The hawser necessarily was very long because the shoal water extended outward for quite a distance.”

“When all was ready, the team walked along the channel reef but, as such towing must be in straight line, on reaching the beach the cattle could only proceed straight inland until the long hawser had drawn the vessel right into the basin.”  (In one account the team numbered twenty oxen.)  (Clark)

“… a rope of great length was used, and it was a never-to-be-forgotten sight to see yokes of oxen, teams of horses and natives tugging at the rope. A time was consumed in making a start, but when once in motion, it was a steady walk-away.”  (Brown)

In 1854 the first steam tug was used to pull sail-powered ships into dock against the prevailing tradewinds.  Captain Jacob Brown was captain of the towing tug “Pele.” The “Pele” was the first steam tug used in Hawaiʻi (screw tug with thirty-horse power.)

Its primary use was for towing vessels in and out of the harbor and replaced the use of men or animals to bring ships into the harbor against the prevailing northeast tradewinds.

In 1856, the Pele was also used to tow barges about the harbor in connection with the Honolulu Harbor dredging operations. Pele served, with short interruptions, as the sole tug for shipping at Honolulu until after 1882.

Piers were constructed at the base of Richards Street in 1896, at the site of Piers 17 and 18 in 1901 to accommodate sugar loading and at Piers 7 and 12 in 1907.

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